#i accidentally licked my screen

[lillian1396]

Goddamn Marinelli

[beaversatemygrandma]

Oh. RIGHT. Florida is the Australia of the US. Right...

...came back from walking the dog and there was a spider a little bigger than my hand sitting on the wall right above my front door. UGH.

It was nice as winter and spring lasted. I remember why I hated being in non-town/city/beach FL. It's the spiders and the rattlers and the boar (which I haven't seen yet but can always somehow hear...)

[jamminvroomvroom]

busy.

ln x fem!reader

in which there’s a whole club of people waiting to celebrate the race winner, but he’s a bit busy…

hehehehe i’ve been cooking this one up since he won!! obsessed with this, it’s really not my best work in terms of literary masterpieces, but…. it’s horny self indulgence. enjoy, lemme know what you think, love you!!!

songs to set the mood: the alchemy by taylor swift, agora hills by doja cat, so high school by taylor swift, starboy by the weeknd

warnings: 18+!! minors dni i am so serious! this is just. porn without plot (with a lil plot) like this is peak feral needy lando, dom!lando, oral (f&m receiving), spanking, accidental voyeurism?, max verstappen, dry humping, unprotected sex (don’t do that!), touch of fluff as well, established relationship, crying, overstimulation

3.8k words

tears well in your eyes, the blurry screen telling you absolutely nothing, but it doesn’t matter anymore. he’s done it. the screams engulfing the garage seem to rattle all around you, the vibrations pushing your elation up another notch.

lando norris, formula 1 race winner.

your lando.

his voice floods your ears, so loud that the headphones seem to quiver as he screeches. a few tears roll thick down your face when he thanks his mum and dad, dedicates the win to his grandma, but then he says your name and you forget how to breathe.

“i’m nothing without you, baby.” his voice breaks, and your body is wracked with sobs.

various arms are slung over your shoulder, members of the team guiding you out of the garage and into parc ferme. the metal barrier digs into your ribs as you lean against it, desperate to catch a glimpse of him. his car rolls into position, the p1 marker sending another wave of emotion through you, and when he pulls himself out, he stands tall, proud, points to the sky.

you fall in love with him all over again.

he’s slapped on the back and passed around by the drivers but when he sets his sights on the sea of orange, nothing else exists. he’s flying over your head before you can even register it, elevated by the team and you watch him in awe. when he sees you, eyes locking with yours, a heart-melting, pantie-dropping grin spreads across his face and you can see the redness lining his eyes.

i love you he mouthes.

he’s lowered to the ground, spinning round to face you immediately. he tugs you as close as he can, the barrier definitely leaving it’s mark on both of you, and kisses you messily. all of the energy that he has left, all that he can muster, is put into the kiss, leaving you breathless, tugging on the fabric of his race suit like you’ll die if he gets taken away.

“‘m so proud of you.” you whisper against his lips, shivering as his thumbs graze your cheekbones.

“i love you so fucking much.” he beams, teeth clashing with yours when he kisses you with a smile.

“go get that trophy, mr norris.” you coo, and he winks, pressing his lips to your forehead. then, he’s gone.

champagne vapour leaves your skin sticky.

-

“lando, we gotta go.” you breathe, head rolling back to give him even more access to your strained neck, resting against the door of your shared hotel room.

you’re draped in orange satin, obviously, the short dress clinging to you deliciously, the one you always pack just in case. lando had been trying to convince you to stay in and let him have his way with you, and the second he walked out of the bathroom, still dripping from his shower, there was no way the pair of you were heading anywhere in a hurry.

“says who?” he grunts, his hips digging into yours.

“there’s a whole club waiting to celebrate with you-“

“the only person i want to celebrate with is you.” he punctuates his words with a harsh nip of his teeth.

“lando.” you whine in protest, not because you actually want him to stop, but because you don’t want to deprive him of a night out with his friends.

“try and convince me to go one more time, and i’ll edge you until you fucking cry.” he licks up your neck, tugging you from against the door, and guides you towards the bed. “and when you’re begging for me to make you cum, i’ll get you dressed up all pretty and we’ll go to the club with you dripping down your thighs.”

your lips quivers, caught between your teeth at his promise. you know he means it. his eyes darken when you nod quickening your pace until you’re stood at the foot of the bed. he’d only made it as far as putting his jeans on, so you rake your nails down his chest, watching as the tanned skin pales as you dig your fingertips in.

you teeter on your tip toes, leaning up to kiss him but he pulls back, smirking, holding you at arms length while he wiggles his jeans off and clambers onto the bed. you pout, watching him position himself up against the headboard, curling two fingers that beckon you forwards. you kick off your heels, crawling up the bed until you sit pretty on his lap, your dress riding up your thighs as you straddle him, leaving the lace of your panties flush against the cotton of his underwear.

you lean in to kiss him, but his fingers catch your chin, holding you back. you whine at the way he restrains you for a second time, wanting nothing more to melt into his frame while you lick into his mouth. he tuts, damp curls falling over his forehead.

“five minutes ago you wanted to go out.” lando tilts his head accusingly, a teasing lilt to his tone.

“changed my mind.” you hum, attempting to roll your hips. he slaps your thigh, light enough that it doesn’t hurt, hard enough that you sink into submission.

“you’re gonna have to prove that to me.” he sighs, feigning sympathy. you’re pulsing against him, and he can feel the damp heat of your cunt. “you’re gonna grind your little pussy on me until i can see how wet you are. gotta convince me, baby.” he grins at you, flashing his teeth. your jaw goes slack.

“lan.” you moan, eyes widening at his instruction.

“show me how bad you wanna congratulate me.” lando’s voice drops an octave, gravelly and direct, sending bolts of lightning down your spine.

you rock your hips over his bulge, slowly at first, tentative for the first couple of glides. you can feel how hard he is, your clit bumping the thick head of his cock as you grind down on him. your wetness begins to seep through the skimpy lace as you pick up the pace, revelling in the friction, the fire that you’ve lit between your two bodies.

lando makes no effort to help you, not at first, watching smugly as you slick him up. he can feel your warmth washing over him, the way you struggle to keep going as the pleasure builds. he focuses his eyes on the splotch growing on his crotch, honing in on the way your folds are slipping out of your quite frankly useless underwear. his lip catches between his teeth, pupils blown wide. his self restraint completely dissolves, one hand tangling in your hair, slotting his lips over yours, while his other flies to your waist forcing your hips backwards and forwards.

“wanna get my tongue on you, taste the mess you’ve made.” he mumbles against your lips. your thighs clench around his waist, rutting frantically on his lap. “‘n then i’m gonna get my fingers inside of you. it’ll be so easy, won’t it? can feel you dripping already. messy girl.”

“please.” you rasp. “lando, i need you.” you’re pleading, pushing his curls back and tugging hard at the chocolate strands.

“oh, honey,” he starts, flipping you onto your back. you gasp, smoothing your hands over the slope of his back, your nails raking between his shoulder blades. “i’m gonna have you exactly how i want you.”

he doesn’t have to work too hard to get you naked, peeling sodden lace down your thighs and shoving the satin of your dress over your tits, off of your frame. it cascades onto the floor, wrinkled in a heap, but you couldn’t possibly care less, not when he’s snaking down your body on a mission. his tongue drags over your clavicle, over the curve of your breast, stopping briefly to tease your nipple. he scrapes his teeth over the bud, continuing his trail over your abdomen, the plush skin of your belly.

“say please.” lando taunts, staring up at you through thick lashes. he rests his head against your hip bone, raising an eyebrow. you’re shaking already, in no mood to play games. if this is what he wants, you can’t deny him. he’s your race winner.

“please, baby. want your tongue on me.” you pant, softening your eyes in sheer desperation.

“where?” he coos, punctuating his borderline cruel question with soft kisses over your navel.

you smile coyly, keeping eye contact as your fingers dart between your spread thighs. you dip into your folds, splaying them open for him, tracing your clit a few times. you’re utterly soaked, impressed almost.

“right here.” you’re blushing, but you know just how he likes it, and your tactics are proven right when he groans, guttural and feral, pinning your thighs to the mattress.

your head thuds against the pillows at the sensation of the first swipe, his tongue dragging from your opening to your swollen clit. his face is submerged between your thighs, you can’t see him anymore, but you can certainly feel him. you can feel the slow glide of his tongue, tasting every little drop of you, can feel the vibration when he hums out in pure bliss.

it makes your head spin, the way most guys would expect you to drop to your knees, but lando gets his kicks on his, lost between your thighs. your eyes roll back every time he burrows himself deeper, slurping obscenely where you’re dripping.

“lando!” you grit your teeth, nearing the edge, and it spurs him on, two fingers running up the crease of your thigh, lathering through your wetness.

the digits glide inside of you seamlessly, casting an echo of noise that makes you blush. he groans against your clit - you’re utterly soaked - sending a buzz shooting up your spine.

“oh, baby.” he slurs, enticed, rutting against the mattress. you’re in an absolute state, and it’s all his fault.

two fingers curl, your feet kick out uncontrollably, and he laughs, laughs, into your cunt. you can’t help yourself, barrelling towards your release, unable to resist the rush of white hot pleasure. he fucks his fingers into you even faster, you scream, throat going raw as he scissors in and out of you. your foot finds his shoulder, trying to kick him away, teetering dangerously close to the brink of overstimulation. he doesn’t let it phase him, aside from the furrowing of his brows in annoyance, slinging your leg over his shoulder and splitting you open.

“my- oh god.” you choke, spasming up the mattress. he’s not even thrusting his fingers anymore, instead he’s grinding them against that one special spot, sucking hard at your clit.

you cum again, limp on the mattress, eyes squeezed shut. you’re slurring his name, babbling incoherently when he pulls off of you, sitting back on his knees. he looks proud of himself, too proud, smirking at your lifeless body. you feel like you’re part of the mattress, so sunken into it and exhausted. he’s covered in you, lips swollen maroon, fingers coated. every part of him that has touched you seems to shine in the dim light. his curls have dried now, fluffy and untamed, falling over his greying eyes.

“taste better than champagne.” he whispers, falling onto his forearms and caging you in.

your skin litters with goosebumps, his bare chest against yours, and you crane your head, lazily kissing him. you can taste yourself on his lips, mouthing down his jaw until you reach the sensitive skin below his ear. you scrape your teeth down his jugular, slow, sinking in softly to the bulk of his shoulder. he falters, shivering, collapsing his entire body weight onto you.

plump lips suck purple splotches onto the base of his neck, where no one will see.

you want him to lose control, ram into you and fuck you like he’ll die if he doesn’t, so you continue to tease, misbehave as you rake your teeth over his bronzed skin. his eyes are shut, thick lashes dusting his cheekbones as he succumbs to your torture. your hand skims his belly, muscles pulled taut under your fingertips, and you find the band of his boxers, dipping under the fabric. he registers your touch, and something within him snaps, his eyes flying open. he rolls off of you, finding his feet as he moves from the bed to the mini fridge.

“on your knees.” he grins at you, beckoning you to the carpeted floor.

you’re dazed, staring at the green bottle in his hands. condensation runs down the thick glass of the champagne bottle and you blank, utterly perplexed by what he’s about to do, your thighs involuntarily clenching. lando’s impatient, tutting as his hand wraps around your ankle, tugging you down the bed towards him. you’re shocked back to reality by his brazenness, scrambling from the mattress. you fall to your knees, licking your lips in anticipation, watching him through gleaming doe eyes. he softens, captivated by how ready you are for him, but it’s short-lived and the smirk returns.

“go on, baby. you know what to do.” lando strokes your cheek soothingly. your fingers curl into his waistband once again, and this time he lets you drag his boxers down. his cock springs free, hard and weeping, and your mouth fills with saliva, urgently taking him into your hand. “open wide.”

you look up at him just in time, watching how he raises the champagne bottle. he shakes it, once, twice, and your jaw drops as he pops the bottle. the liquid sprays, frothy and golden, dripping down your chest, over your tits, down your belly. you’re sticky, stickier, watching him in awe as the liquid pools around your knees. you notice how he’s glistening, the spray catching his abs, dripping south.

the noise he makes is carnal, a sigh of relief sounding when you lick over his hip bone, tracing your tongue over his pelvis until you reach the base of his cock. his hips stutter when you take him between your lips, the tip hitting the back of your throat as he immediately gives in to the warmth of your wet mouth. one of his hands works through your hair, bobbing you backwards and forwards, the other clasping tight around the neck of the bottle. he raises it to his parted lips, tipping his head back as he does, the liquid falling into his mouth. your eyes trace the curve of his neck, the swell of his lips, the way his knuckles have turned white contrasting the green glass. you wouldn’t be surprised if you were dripping onto the carpet.

“look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” lando grins dopily, his nails scratching over your scalp. the moan that emits, low and needy from the back of your throat, makes him shudder. “enough now.” he pulls you off of him, but he leaves you on your knees.

the hand in your hair travels to cup your jaw, his thumb flush against your reddened lips. he pulls them apart, bringing the bottle down to your level. you accept it, welcoming the fizzy burst of liquid, swallowing it down in gulps that make your head spin. there’s pride in his eyes when you keeps yours trained on him.

“so good for me, so well behaved.” he mumbles, more to himself it seems, but the praise still leaves you weak.

lando extends his hands, the bottle forgotten on the desk, and he pulls you to your feet, flush against him. you grab at him desperately, pawing at his lean body like he’ll disappear.

“you’re so pretty.” he whispers, nosing over your jaw. you flush, cheeks tinting deep and warm. “‘m so in love with you.” he purrs into your ear.

heat and raw emotion flood through your veins, and you’re shoving him backwards towards the bed, climbing on top of him. your knees bump his hips as you straddle him, your hair fanning his shoulders as you kiss him hard.

“love you. ‘m so proud. wanna show you.” your words come out frenzied, muffled as they get lost to his mouth. your teeth clash with his, his winning smile moulding against yours.

“yeah, baby? gonna show me?” lando’s eyes rake over your frame, his hands guiding your hips. you raise yourself up, your hands lining you up, and then…

“oh.”

“fuck.”

you sink down on him, filling yourself up slowly, the both of you panting already. the glide is slow, easy; he’s so big but you’re so wet.

“aren’t you glad we didn’t go out?” he hisses through gritted teeth, entranced by the way you feel, everywhere, all over him.

you nod, frantic in your agreement, your eyes rolling back in your head as you bottom out. it’s addictive, the stretch of him, your hands gliding over his abs as you try to find some balance. you rock your hips, revelling in the slow grind, up and down. your clit grazes his pubic bone with every rise and fall and you swallow hard, his body sticky under your fingertips.

“you did so good today, lan, so pretty up on that top step.” you pant, circling your hips. he groans, pulling you down so that you’re chest to chest, your lips centimetres apart, when the moment is stolen.

lando’s phone buzzes, over and over, max verstappen’s face filling the iphone screen. lando looks at the device on the bedside table, cursing under his breath.

“must be wondering where the race winner is.” you giggle, choosing to make light of the situation, rather than dwell on your ruined orgasm.

“he can wait.” lando grunts, fingers bruising your hips when he flips you onto your back, his cock staying buried so deep inside of you that you see stars when you hit the mattress.

your leg is thrown over his shoulder callously, a stoniness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. he’s determined to finish you off, show you just how bad he’s wanted you all day, remind you that you’re in bed with a someone who knows how to win. the angle change is jarring, it takes you a minute to adjust, not that he gives you the courtesy, fucking into you how you both like it as the call rings out through the room.

“baby- lando!” you yelp, your belly tight. the waves of pleasure swell in your core, his merciless antics send you barreling towards another orgasm. you’re teetering over the edge, his thumb flush against your clit, spasming at his manipulation, dangerously clos-

buzz buzz buzz buzz.

buzz buzz buzz buzz.

“for fuck sake!” lando swears, pulling out of you. you whine wantonly at the loss, pouting up at him.

he drags you to the edge of the bed until your legs hang over, flipping you angrily onto your belly. your cheek is pressed into the duvet, your toes barely graze the floor. his ringtone continues to sound out and he hastily grabs his phone. he hits the green button the same time he slides back into your cunt.

“what, max?” he spits, thrusting into you, so deep that you can’t help the screech that burns the back of your throat. it’s obscene, really, the way you gush around him at the knowledge that someone else is listening in, at the fact that lando takes pride in how good he makes you feel.

you try to muffle your cries, really, you do, but lando has other plans. he gathers your hair, winding it around his fingers so that he can pull your face out of the comforter. you sob, loud, the lewd squelch of where you’re joined with him more than audible.

“i’m busy. fuck off.” lando growls throwing the phone down onto the bed, conveniently right next to your head. the call is still in progress, but max is quick to hang up when he hears your shaky breath, poorly concealed squeals.

“you’re insane.” you manage to choke out. he laughs wetly, the sound making you dizzy.

lando shuffles the pair of you up the bed, propping you onto your knees, all the while hammering into you with that athletic stamina that makes your head spin. the pad of his index finger traces your thigh, finding home on your clit and the tears fall harder, blurring your vision. he pulls your back to his chest, beginning a deep grind that renders your speechless.

“you liked that, didn’t you? him hearing how good i make you feel.” lando’s breath fans the shell of your ear. you nod, mumbling something incoherent, too blissfully exhausted.

‘cuz you’re so good to me. so so good to me.

“thought about shoving your panties in your mouth to shut you up, but you ruined them, didn’t you baby?” lando circles your clit harder, tugging at your earlobe “remember? when you weren’t being a good for me? but you are now, aren’t you, honey? you’re my good girl, hm?”

you clamp down around him, heat licking down your spine. you’re clammy with sweat, glazed with champagne, at one with him. lando shudders as you tighten around him, holding you as close as he can get. you writhe against him when you hit your peak, slumping against him as you quiver. pearly whites sink into your flesh, hard enough to to ground you, not enough to hurt you. you love it, him, everything about this. you coax him into his orgasm, his thrusts turn sloppy and he cums, thick and hot.

it takes a solid five minutes before you can move, the pair of you crawling up the bed, stretching like two sun-kissed cats. you’re sweaty, stuck together tangled between white bedding that definitely needs changing.

“that was-“

“better than any race win.” lando sighs, languidly smiling against your hair line where he lays gentle kisses, his entire demeanour changed in a matter of minutes.

“you’re just saying that.” you tease, drumming your fingers over his chest.

“no, ‘m not. i loved every moment of today, best day of my life,” he breathes, dazed. “but i love you more.”

-

max sips his drink, the dial tone sounding through his ears.

“just won a fucking race and he’s not here yet.” oscar laughs. typical lando.

the call goes to voicemail, but max is drunk, persistent, and quite frankly, feeling a little annoying.

“‘m gonna try him again.” max nods his head, tapping against his phone screen impatiently.

“did you consider the fact that he might be… busy?” charles smirks into his drink, slumping against the back of the booth.

it’s too late, the ferrari drivers suggestion falls on deaf ears. max has made the call, again, but this time he gets an answer.

“where the fuck are you?” max asks, but then his face pales.

“what?” oscar tilts his head, watching in confusion as max wrinkles his nose.

the phone goes flying from max’s hands, thudding against the cushioned seats, his jaw hanging agape. once the disbelief subsides, he’s giggling like a child.

“guess he was busy then, hm?” charles raises a knowing eyebrow.

“yeah,” max is red now, cackling. “something like that.”

-

hehe whoops

-

taglist

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[cyberteez]

size - s.mingi

pairing ⋆ s.mingi x afab!reader

genre ⋆ smut, fluff

wc ⋆ 1.7k

summary ⋆ mingi notices how small you are in comparison to him

warnings ⋆ cunnilingus, pinv, sex, no condom(don't do this), mingi is cheesy, he's a bit of a tease, lmk if there's anything else, not entirely proofread

it was a relaxing weekend for the both of you. with nothing planned, you both lazed around on the couch, eating snacks and watching movies. for the past half hour you haven’t been able to focus on the movie, mind unable to take in a fifth movie. you were warm, wrapped in mingi’s arms while the colors of sunset shone through your open window.

the air was cool but pleasant, enough chill to make you stay in his arms but not enough to require a blanket. he simply adored having you in his arms, all small and cute, head resting on his chest. you were wearing on of his t-shirts, the fabric resting on your bare thighs while he traced random lines across them. having lounged all day in one of his shirts, he couldn’t keep his thoughts away from you. subtle whiffs of your shampoo enter his nose. even though the two of you lived together, you each had distinct smells and he knew that his shirt would smell of you if he stole it back. that’s a big if, but he’d be willing to tussle for it.

you sighed in his arms, the notion that you two aren’t paying attention to the screen becoming more and more apparent.

“whatcha thinkin about, babe,” you asked, angling your neck upwards to face him.

“you, as always,” he replies with a cheesy grin, earning a playful slap on his chest.

“you’re so dumb.”

yours and his laughter fills the room, quickly settling into a calm atmosphere again. he hummed, his fingers absentmindedly tracing higher on your thigh. you couldn’t tell if he knew what he was doing—as he’d done it before and would feign innocence—or if he was accidentally drawing higher and higher, moving your shorts up your thighs.

“you fit right with me,” he says softly.

you don’t reply, but stare in his eyes as he looks down at you. a few short moments pass before he’s leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss.

“my sweet thing,” he whispers against your lips, securing his arms around you as you shift to be more comfortable.

your shorts have ridden up to your hips, but you’re too busy trying to breathe to care. his teeth tug at your bottom lip, a smirk forming on his face as he continues to lazily kiss you. a yelp squeaks its way past your lips into his as hands squeeze your ass. his grin only widens as he slips his tongue between your parted lips, deepening the kiss.

while this wasn’t what you had planned for the weekend, you certainly wouldn’t turn him down. his arms lock under your thighs as he stands, not breaking the kiss, but walking in the general direction of your bedroom. he fumbles with the door for a minute, ears turning red for not being seamlessly sexy, but your eye smile is enough to brush away the embarrassment. the plush bed greets your back quickly enveloping your body.

“I didn’t realize how small you were compared to me, love,” mingi comments before leaning in to kiss you again. “makes me feel like I have to hold you.”

he breaths a kiss on your cheek before sloppily making his way down your neck.

“look so pretty in my shirt. I like having what’s mine in my clothes.”

his hands drag his shirt up your sides, hand smoothing over the expanse of your stomach. he presses a kiss near your belly button, working his way up as he pulls his shirt over your head.

“I would keep you in my stuff all the time, but then I wouldn’t get to see all of you, now would I?” he asks to no one. he licks his lips when he's met with your bare chest.

“no bra? you cheeky little thing.”

before suckling your tit into his mouth, he presses open mouthed kisses to your chest. a whine leaves your mouth when he tugs your nipple between his teeth. his other hand comes to cup your other tit, two fingers coming to roll the neglected nipple in between them. the soft whines and breathy pants that leave your lips spur him on and he soon switches to the other side, leaving a trail of kisses between the valley of your breasts. however he’s not where you need him and every roll of his tongue has your hips involuntarily bucking up to meet his crotch. mingi’s hands leave your chest to still your hips, face coming to meet your own.

a smile graces his lips as he says, “I’ll get there eventually, you’re so impatient.”

your hands come to pull his shirt off before he’s slipping off your shorts, kneeling between your thighs at the edge of the bed. his presses a kiss to your clit through your underwear which elicits a whiny moan from you, a plea to hurry up. his index fingers hook the top of your underwear, dragging it down your thighs and to the floor, tossing it aside with the other clothing.

when your thighs close from the cool air hitting your pelvis, he wedges his hands between them, prying them apart for a look at you.

“you’re dripping already and all I’ve done is fondle you. you must really want me, huh?” he pauses for a moment before concluding, “or maybe it’s just that you need me.”

you don’t even need to look at his face to see his shit eating grin, you just know it’s there. you’re prepared to make a snarky retort but fail to do so when you feel his lips attach to your clit, sucking gently. your elbows shake a bit from holding you up as your head rolls back, enjoying the sensation of his mouth on you. when he moans against you, you feel electricity run down your legs and up your torso, goosebumps following soon after.

“fuck, mingi,” you moan, voice so light you weren’t sure he heard you.

his response comes in a form of a finger working its way inside you, beginning to stretch you out. a small gasp leaves your lips and your thighs clench around his shoulders as he works you open.

“so tight for me, aren’t you? always so tight for me even when you’re horny as hell. fuck, love, how do you manage to take my cock?”

you choke at his words, warmth spreading throughout your body and pooling in between your legs where he’s adding another finger. you can’t respond in anything other than breathy moans and curses at this point but he doesn’t seem to mind. he adds a third finger to help stretch you in preparation for him. when breathy moans that don't belong to you fill the room, your eyes quickly find mingi’s free hand wrapped tightly around his cock, stroking himself while finger fucking you open. his middle finger kneads your sweet spot which has your legs shaking as you feel your orgasm unexpectedly wash over you. a string of whines and curse words leave your mouth as you cum on his fingers, and through hooded eyes you see him take them into his mouth, sucking them clean.

at this point, he stands so you can see his cock. it twitches in the air as he grips your thighs, prying them open once more so he can line up with your entrance. as he pushes in, he lets out a lovely groan, eyebrows coming together. your slick cunt takes in every inch as if it had a mind of its own.

“fuck you’re so wet for me, baby,” he coos, fingers digging into your thighs when your walls clench around him. “relax, love, my cock won’t fit in you if you squeeze me so much...”

when his pelvis meets yours, you’re both breathing heavily. your thighs tremble as your walls struggle to adjust to his size, the overwhelming feeling of his cock touching every place inside of you has you reeling. he pulls out so just the tip is inside and snaps his hips back into you quickly, eliciting a moan from you. he sets up a steady rhythm, one hand gripping your thighs while the other rests next your head. you can tell he’s having a hard time not fucking you till you break as a sheen of sweat covers his torso, trailing down to his hips.

you can feel your climax starting to come close again, but he has other plans as he pulls out and flips you onto your knees, elbows pressed into the bed. your head falls heavily to the duvet. he has both hands on your hips, clawing bruises into them as his pace speeds up, unable to control himself any longer. one of your hands comes back to cup his side while your head moves to your free forearm, breath still unsteady as he fucks at a wild pace. you can tell he’s drawing close when his motions become uneven and sloppy, but he manages to work his fingers on your clit. he’s cumming soon after, still working you till you climax yourself. you can feel his hand slide on your back from the sweat and a breathy laugh leaves him.

“I went too hard, didn’t I?” mingi rolls off of you, back hitting the sheets as he stares up at the ceiling in a daze.

you’re shaking your head as you lay next to him, wiping the sweat from his forehead and placing a kiss on his temple. you don't stay down long, opting to start the shower for the both of you.

his hands smooth over your back in the shower, suds trailing down your spine as he washes you off. his fingertips gently trace the new bruises on your hips  and he lets out a sigh, apologizing for being so rough. you turn around and embrace him, saying to not apologize and that you liked when he was rough. your head rests on his chest as he continues to wash the both of you, enjoying the feeling of his hands running over your body. the warm water hitting you back makes you sleepy and he can see your eyes struggling to stay open. he hums softly, turning off the shower and pulling you out, drying you off and moving a towel through your hair. he places a kiss on your nose and leads you to your bed in a fresh shirt of his and where you easily fall asleep wrapped in his arms.

© cyberteez 2024

[bajicantspell]

Kodzuken in my DMs ❕

Summary: Kenma trying (and failing) to make a move  → Warnings: cursing (Fluff) 🎧 This is part one, although both can be read as a one shot Part two right here

Despite his dislike for being recognized in public and the inevitable social interactions that fame entails, he couldn't deny that it came with its advantages. For starters, living in a big house in his early twenties wasn’t something he could complain about. Sure, it might have been just a rental and not in Roppongi Hills, but that wasn't due to any financial constraints; he simply chose not to. Kenma couldn't complain, he loved helping his loved ones. Whether it was sponsoring his friend's volleyball career or paying off his parents' debt, it felt nice to be useful.

Honestly he never expected himself to get this far this early in his life. It really felt like one day he was streaming in his old room for the ten people that happened to join and the next day he’s a ceo of a company. 

However, one thing that Kenma anticipated to be much easier, but found it wasn't, was dealing with women. Its not like the requests weren’t piling up; it seemed like every hour there was a new girl in his requests offering him everything lewd imaginable.

 Sure, meaningless sex could be nice once in a while, but lately he’s been feeling very lonely. Kuroo was always working, his parents lived far away, Hinata was in fucking Brazil. Aside from calls with them and the occasional visits, tedious work meetings, and interactions in his stream chat, he had no contact with anyone. Kenma also considered that it might be FOMO, but the fact that he had never had a girlfriend didn't help. In high school, he avoided women at all costs. In college, he went on a few dates, but nothing serious came of them—just one okay-ish hookup. Then he went viral, and dating became harder, because it seemed every conversation ended up being about him and his internet presence. 

Kenma sighed while scrolling through another dating app. Everytime he matched with someone and the first message they’d sent was “OMFG ARE YOU KODZUKEN”  he wanted to smash the phone screen just a little more. Giving up, he sank deeper into his gaming chair, taking a few deep breaths. He needed to be relaxed for the stream he was about to start.

If you could tell your awkward-ugly-duckling middle school self that you would one day have nearly ten thousand Instagram followers just for being pretty, she would have laughed in your face. Though you were extremely grateful, it wasn't as if your life was substantially different from anyone else's. You don’t get payed for posting, you’re still a regular university student, and aside from the occasional scammy sponsorship offer that you always turned down (and the creepy men asking you to start an OnlyFans), there wasn’t anything outstandingly different about your life.One thing you did brag about to your friends, however, was that the famous streamer Kodzuken had been following you for a couple of months now.  Part of you was convinced it was accidental though, since he never watches any stories or interacts with any posts. Bummer, you thought he’s really cute. 

“I’m gonna buy a fucking gun and shoot myself” Kenma complained to Kuroo during their weekly call. 

“You say while wiping your tears with money” 

“Oh fuck off, I’m serious! I tried everything. I swear I’ll resort to just fucking my hand for the rest of my life” 

Kuroo snickered, then he started thinking of solutions for his lonely friend. “Okay, instead of being a drama queen in her fucking castle lets try to be reasonable. What have you tried so far?”

Kenma sighed, “Mostly dating apps to be honest. Ain’t working. Also checked my requests and they all sound like the plots to a bad porno.” 

“Seriously? Like what?” Kenma could hear Kuroo’s smug smile through the phone.

“Dude there was one where she offered to lick my toes. Not gonna lie it was tempting.” Kenma joked, earning a loud laugh from Kuroo. 

“Damn, living the dream. Anyway, have you tried making a move though? Cause what I’m getting from this is you expecting the woman of your dreams to fall from the sky.” 

“How could i even do that? Can’t go outside without a crowd following me around. Can’t imagine a girl who feels comfortable getting hit on by a dude with an army behind him.” Kenma sighed. 

“I didnt mean that dumbass, I know that. I mean like shooting your shot through social media or something. There must be at least one babe that cought your eye.” Kuroo reasoned. 

Kenma paused and thought for a moment, his cheeks flushing the slightest shade of pink.

“Well there is one…” 

“Oh yea? Who?” Kuroo smirked. 

“She’s not like, famous or anything, which I like. It’s @(youruser). Found her a couple of months ago. Physically she’s exactly my type, like everything is exactly what i like in a girl; face, body, hair, style, the whole shtick. Followed her a couple of months ago, didnt have the courage to say anything though.” Kenma nervously explained. 

“I say send her something, what’s the worst that can happen? Getting rejected? So what? Then you move on.” 

“I don’t know…I think she’s really pretty, shooting my shot and then messing up means it’d be weird to still follow her. Don’t wanna make her uncomfy. She doesn’t post anything crazy, just selfies and outfit inspo, but she’s so fucking cute in every pic and video, drives me crazy.” Kenma sheepishly smiled. 

“Even if she does turn you down if you’re nice about it I doubt she’ll be uncomfortable. I say do it.” 

Kenma sighed, knowing Kuroo was right. He opened Instagram and searched for your profile, keeping the call with Kuroo active in case you replied quickly. 

*ding* 

 You were in the middle of doing some coursework when your phone buzzed. Glancing at the screen, you expected it to be a new follower. Your eyes went wide when you realized the notification said ‘@kodzuken wants to send you a message’.

No fucking way, you thought. 

You anxiously unlocked your phone, your focus completely shifting from your studies. 

What you didnt know is that  an equally anxious Kenma was patiently waiting for at least a ‘seen’ with his best bud on the line. 

You opened the message. 

Kodzuken: Hey :) 

Your finger hovered over the keyboard of your phone for just a second before replying.

You: Hiiiii

You cringed at your reply, it seemed to childish and dry at the same time. 

Kenma didnt think so, he was too busy panicking over the fact that you replied. Maybe he never got over his social anxiety after all. 

“Dude she replied.” He said, not fully believing himself. 

“Damn, that was fast,’ Kuroo smirked, ‘I’ll leave you lovebirds alone, gotta catch up on some work stuff. Talk to you later!” 

“Wait Kuro don’t-” before Kenma could finish his sentence the call was over. 

He clicked his tongue in annoyance- “Asshole”, he mumbled.  

He stared at the screen, unable to muster the courage to type anything. It was then that he realized this might be the first time he truly liked a girl, due to the anxious feeling that had left him since high school. With trembling fingers unable to type anything, he sighed and set his phone down, promising himself he would reply in an hour. However, that hour stretched into several, and then two days passed. He felt insanely pathetic. 

Kenma was on call with Kuroo again, Kuroo couldn’t stop complaining about the shitty meeting he had the day before.

“He was such an asshole, fucking bastard rolled his eyes everytime my colleagues and I talked. Like shut the fuck up. If you hate your job this fucking much at least don’t bring misery into ours.” 

Kenma could only hum in response, preoccupied with setting up for his stream while his mind was flooded with self-critical thoughts.

Kuroo noticed the uncharacteristic response from his best friend- If there was one thing Kenma loved, it was shit talk, and Kuroo knew that all too well from years and years of friendship with him, and the countless brutalities that Kenma would throw at him and others he was comfortable with. He would point out things in such a monotone way, you couldn’t even be mad. Kenma was a hater to his core, so not hearing even a snicker from the other side of the line was concerning. 

“Hey man, are you okay?” He asked.

“Yea its whatever.” 

Kuroo suspected what this might be about. 

“So uh.. how did things with the girl go?” 

“They didn’t fucking go.” Kenma let out a huff of laughter through his nose, tinged with self-pity.

“Hm? How come?” 

“I panicked and left her on seen. And I highly doubt I can recover that now. Like what am I gonna say? Hi sorry I left you on seen even though I texted you first, I’m just too fucking high and mighty to reply.” 

“Well definitely don’t say that.” Kuroo joked. 

“I seriously fumbled. Fuck,” Kenma muttered just loud enough for Kuroo to hear, running a hand through his hair.

“It’s okay, man. These things happen,” Kuroo said empathetically, his voice gentle and reassuring. “Everyone fucks up sometimes. You just need to give yourself a break.”, though he didnt get a response from the overthinker. 

“You’re gonna start a stream soon yea?” Kuroo changed the subject, he knew that the best way to make Kenma feel better was to distract him or piss him off a little. The second part was coming later. 

“Yea, almost done setting up. Gonna start in five.” 

“I might stay and watch a little today, I’m off work for the weekend.”

“Kay, I’m gonna hang up now. ‘Bout to start.” 

You checked the chat a couple of times during those two days, though the bitter ‘seen’ never changed. You couldn’t lie, you were a little disappointed. You didnt know much about video games, but you enjoyed his streams once in a while. He was a bit of a celebrity crush for you. 

It was the weekend, and with not much to do, you mindlessly scrolled through Instagram stories to kill time. You stumbled upon Kodzuken’s story, it was a picture of his monitor, with the text “streaming” and a link to his twitch. Although you were disappointed with the outcome of your “conversation”, you thought it couldn’t hurt watching for a bit. 

You clicked the link, and as you entered the stream, the first thing you noticed was his not-so-happy expression. His chat was filled with messages asking if he was okay.

You watched for a little bit, nothing particularly special happening. 

As you were about to click off, Kenma snapped at his chat. "Guys, I'm fine! Please stop asking." The irritation in his voice was evident. Despite his words, the tone of his voice betrayed him, revealing a hint of underlying frustration or perhaps even distress.

Another autogenerated voiced question popped on the screen, something that happens with every donation. “Okay man! Whatever it is, don’t worry, we won’t nag you.” The robotic tone of the voice did little to mask the genuine concern behind the words.

 Kenma’s shoulders tensed for a moment before he forced a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks,” he muttered, the frustration in his voice easing slightly. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “I appreciate it, really. Let’s just focus on the game, okay?”

You decided to stay for just a little longer, puzzled at the unfamiliar demeanor of the famous streamer. 

A few minutes go by, and another donation followed by the familiar robotic voice  “@KUROROROTETSU : don’t mind him he fumbled the insta baddie” 

Your cheeks flushed for just a second though you were quickly brought back to reality by the man on the screen in front of you.

“Fucking kill yourself. Like I’m not even kidding I need you dead on my doorstep.” Kenma cursed to distract you the audience from his embarrassment, his eyebrows furrowed and a huge shit eating grin plastered on his face.

The chat started blowing up with laughs and ‘Kodzu’s back guys’

Kenma added, “before anyone cancels me that was my best friend of twenty years, don’t take the clip out of context.” He laughed.

Your favorite comment was someone saying “guys kodzu gets not bitches he’s just like me fr”, it made you let out a small giggle.

You debated with yourself, engaging in a mental monologue. ‘If I send him a message and it turns out to be about me, that’s the best case scenario. The worst case is completely humiliating myself in front of someone really famous,’ you reasoned.

You decided that a little embarrassment was a risk worth taking this time.

Kenma continued playing as usual, engaging and laughing with his audience. He felt his phone buzz and saw the screen light up beside him.

@(youruser) : for the record, I don’t think you fumbled me <3

He glanced at the screen, reading the notification, and immediately turned beet red. His heart raced as he processed the message. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to the camera, his expression a mix of surprise and embarrassment, as if he were looking directly at you through the screen.

“I uh.. hold on guys i need to reply to this for a second.” He said as he proceeded to pause metal gear solid. 

Your screen was still open to your chat, and a surge of excitement ran through you when you saw the telltale indicator that he was typing.

Kodzuken : holy shit I’m so sry, didn’t know you were watching 

(Youruser) : ahahah dw its fine

Kodzuken : can I text you after I’m done? Totally fine if u don’t wanna tho

Well it wasn’t totally fine, he really hoped you’d say yes.

(Youruser) : I’ll be waitiiiing :) 

Needless to say, that was the longest a stream had ever felt. He could hardly wait to finish so he could talk to you; properly this time.

𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕤 ↓。

part two right here , also i found these banners on Pinterest, if anyone knows who made these pls lmk so i can give credit

[luuknowsbetter]

RIDE. Bucky Barnes x reader

plot; You tease Bucky about riding him, but he takes it seriously.

trope; Bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings; smut. Inappropriate Language. and sex, a LOT of sex

I was lying on the sofa in the living room with Alpine on my lap, while watching an episode of Friends on TV, when suddenly I heard things being moved from the cupboard in the kitchen, I leaned over to see what it was about and I saw Bucky took out a glass to drink a whiskey, I shouted "make me one too babe!" and I settled down on the couch again. Bucky arrived within a few minutes, with two drinks in his hands, and sat next to me, handing me the glass, I thanked him with a soft kiss on the cheek and he put his arm around my shoulder,-

-What are we watching? -He asked, looking at the screen,

-Friends- I answered, without taking my eyes off the TV where Ross was covered in talcum powder from head to toe with his pants down while he was on a call with Joey. I laughed while watching the episode. Bucky smiled sideways when he heard me laugh, and placed his hand on my thigh, caressing it gently. I looked down at his hand and bit my lip slightly. Apparently he noticed because the next thing he did was start placing wet kisses on my neck. and my face, I gave a little chuckle and he pulled away with a little smile

-What? He asks smiling, not understanding what was happening.

-I think Alpine doesn't like this- I mention, and Bucky looks down at my lap to see the cat with a very unfriendly face, I laugh and pick her up to put her on the floor.

Bucky gives me a flirtatious look as he repositions his hand on my thigh. "Should we continue doll?" he asked with a smirk. We started kissing again, but this time it was more romantic. A few seconds later we separated in search of air.

-Are you okay doll? -He asks, caressing my face gently, and tucking my hair behind my ear. -Oh yes, just thinking about riding your face- I say with a light ironic laugh, he looks at me surprised, but he lets out a chuckle, denying it slightly. that sentence hits him, hard- his entire demeanor changes instantly into one full of cocky overconfidence- and he’s clearly trying to compose himself

-Oh yeah? he asks, voice low- think you can handle it?- he asks, voice low and rough. I chuckle at his comment

-I think so...- i lick my lips and I can see how his eyes darken once he sees me do this, he grins, eyes sparkling with playful mischief

-Come here then, doll. I approach, positioning myself on his lap with my legs on either side, he laughs, denying -No, doll…-I look at him with a raised eyebrow-ride my face, pretty girl...

Bucky sits on the floor to begin spreading kisses that go from my ankles to my inner thighs, where we made eye contact while he took off my small sports shorts and begins to kiss my intimate area above my panties. I let out a soft moan when I feel his kisses there, and I accidentally look away, causing Bucky to grab my face with his metal arm, forcing me to see him. -Keep your eyes on me, princess.

he says with a somewhat flirtatious tone, I nod and he immediately tears off my panties, tearing them on the spot, I let out a loud moan at the suddenness, James smiles maliciously when he hears me and bites his lip. seeing myself so vulnerable before him. Suddenly, Bucky picks me up in his arms, carries me on his shoulder

and he runs to the stairs where he takes me to our room, he gently leaves me on the bed and kisses me again, this time I have control and put him to bed. We both look at each other while I'm on top of him, and Bucky nods in approval, and I would even say a little excited.

I position myself over his mouth but without letting all my weight fall on him, so he begins to leave wet kisses all over my pussy, I let out small, low moans, his tongue is doing magic and I am enjoying the moment. until he stops, I open my mouth in protest and look down at my boyfriend, the soldier smirks and grabs my hips harder as he looks at me. -doll…when I tell you that You sit on my face, I mean it, don't just lean on it. fucking sit on it, sit like a chair. -I am surprised by his words, and possibly, at this point, I am totally blushing

-b-but I don't want to drown you- he interrupts me without letting me finish. -Don't ask if I can breathe, you sit down, and he lets me eat my lady's pussy.

I finally do what he asks, although a little unsure of it, but the moment I felt him directly inside me, licking and sucking my clit, god… I just couldn't stop moaning and moving back and forth. James continued licking and sometimes moaned which made me squirm with pleasure, until I couldn't take it anymore and finally I came all over his face. I got up from him quickly, totally embarrassed by it, Bucky had my juices all over his face, I covered my mouth with my hands -sorry! Seriously forgive me love, I didn't mean to- he laughs and kisses my forehead sweetly. -It's okay doll, I love it…" he says smiling softly, brushing the hair from my face to see me better.

-oh really? I mean, I stained everything, I really - he denies again -doll, this is an act of pure love from you towards me, the fact that you came for me means that you love me…or that I'm really good at it -he says something flirtatious, causing a blush on my part and making me hit his arm gently.

"I love you, princess…" he whispers -I love you more, soldier.

HELLO

okay so this is my 1st time writing smut so

i hope it was good

[urfavleo777]

What about Joost catches the reader reading a smut fanfiction about him! Needy fem reader please, and dirty talk and praise kink if you can please <3

warnings: unprotected sex, bad language, smut

joost klein smut

you wake up early in the morning. although to say it's early morning isn't entirely correct. the sun has not yet risen above the horizon, the sky is just starting to take on morning colors. a pleasant warmth envelopes your entire body, making you feel like you are in your own cocoon of comfort and security. you blink a few times to clear the haze of sleep from your eyes. your head rests on joost's hard chest. his chest moving steadily, his warm breath spreads down your neck, soft snores escaping from his nostrils and his strong arm wraps around your waist. his cheeks, covered with stubble, are slightly pink, and his full lips are parted. his blonde hair is messy and you find it extremely sexy.

a smile appears on your face at this lovely sight. 

you untangle your hand from under his head, quite carefully so that he doesn't wake up, and stroke his cheek with the palm of your hand. you don't want to make any noise so as not to accidentally wake him up, but you can't just force yourself to fall back asleep. making sure his eyes are still closed, you grab your phone from the nightstand and begin your guilty pleasure in peace. let's skip the fact that you almost get blinded when you unlock it.

reading fanfiction about your boyfriend makes you feel like you're committing some sort of crime. there are many book titles scrolling on the phone screen that aren't really about a cliché bad boy and good girl, where the biggest 'wow effect' is their kiss. sometimes authors are so carried away by fantasy that you choke on your own saliva while reading their works. 

it never even crossed your mind to tell joost what you do in your free time. and that's how it should stay. he certainly wouldn't be mad at you if he saw a fanfic on your phone in which his character was fucking another girl and readers were thirsting over it, but you yourself would feel extremely embarrassed. besides, why should he find out what thoughts are running through his girlfriend's imagination? well, it's called imagination for a reason.

finally, you find a book that interests you so much that you devote half an hour of your time to it. you giggle a few times while reading, but quickly cover your mouth so as not to wake joost. all in vain. you don't even realize when he's staring at your screen, a wide, lazy smile spreading across his face.

“you wrote it about me?” his morning voice brings you back to reality. an unexpected scream escapes your lips. you place your hand on joost's chest to stop him from grabbing your phone, but it's way too late. he is much faster and stronger. no matter how loudly you beg him to stop, he reads the words on the screen with a smirk on his face. “he sucked and licked every sensitive part of my neck until his lips reach my chest. i bit my lip. i know i was already wet. with joost’s body stapled on me, i just can't help but feel aroused.” he reads aloud, from time to time looking at your embarrassed face, which now you hide in your hands. “baby, why do you read such things when you have me here all for yourself?”

“i—i don't know. fuck, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

joost chuckles quietly while putting your phone back on the nightstand. then puts his head on the pillow and streches his arms out towards you. “c'mere.” coaxing you towards him as he gently pulls you by your hands onto his warm body again. he places your head on his chest and makes you listen to the steady beat of his heart. joost strokes your back with his hand, sending a pleasant shiver through your body. “how often do you read fanfiction about me?”

“not that ofte— everyday.” you answer honestly, closing your eyes from embarrassment. “whenever you're not looking.”

“and you just read? or..?” he murmurs, tracing his hands over your ass.

“both. uhm, i’m doing both.” a short, throaty laugh escapes his lips as amusement appears on his face at the same time.

“desperate for my dick even at six am.”

“i— please, kiss me, joost.” not a millisecond passes and he already obliges. shoving your tongue into one another's mouths before slowly exchanging slow, messy pecks. the sounds get louder and louder as you hum into each other's lips. as you do this, the thin area of ​​your panties rubs against his legs. grinding the bare flesh of his thighs. whatever you need at the moment, he will make it happen. slowly but surely, you work yourself into a frenzy, whimpering into his ear.. that's when he notices these gentle cries as well.

“isn't this better? now you can finally feel my touch, not only imagine it. my naughty girl.”

he starts rubbing furious circles, and you suddenly feel a hard slap against your right bum cheek. you whine as pleasure and pain intermingle, making you squirm around. his breath tickles your ear. “you love it when i'm rough like this, don't you?”

you nod, desperately humping faster to find your release.

“joost, can i ride you, please?” he just chuckles at how desperate and gone you are for him.

all but pleading to climb atop his dick. “of course, beautiful. here.” so without a moment more of hesitation, you take off your pants. easing down gently, you acclimate to his shape almost immediately and the both of you release loud gasps. 

“joost...i—oh fuck..”

“just keep going, baby. you're so pretty like this.”

“joost,” you whine and reach between your bodies to rub your fingers against your sensitive bud. you title your head back, losing yourself in the sensation, and he begins to trail kisses up your chest and to your neck. mouth searching for yours as your hips match his pace.

“so fucking perfect. that feel good, yeah? that what you like?” he questions, perhaps with double meaning.

as you try to speak, you have trouble choosing words. thus, all you can do is nod emphatically. you feel him chuckle against your throat at your nonverbal response. clearly, he's enjoying himself as much as you are.

“this messy little cunt's fuckin' gushin' all over me. think you're ruinin' the sheets, pet,” he teases.

“joost, ‘m so close,” you moan and he begins to encourage you between kisses. 

it is an ecstasy you've never experienced before. your head is buzzing and it's as if the whole world disappears around you as the orgasm takes over, coursing through you in violent waves as joost continues to worship you. you repeat his name like an old prayer you once knew; over and over with conviction.

“sweetheart, where do you want it?”

“fill me,” you plead, his seed coating your walls as he groanes your name.

the two of you still, his labored breaths warm along your chest and you look at him with a wide smile. his cheeks blossom a bright pink. eyes hooded and body spent.

so beautifully human.

he helps you off his lap but keeps you close, holding you next to him as you lay on the bed. your legs slotted between his, long nails grazing along his chest as he presses kisses to your forehead. “next time you're feeling horny, just come to me, schatje.”

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter six ⭐︎ Secrets I have held in my heart

Warnings: weed consumption, mentions of death, mentions of sex, allusions to smut. this is mostly written from reader's pov, Steve's pov is only at the ending

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You step into a new territory and test the waters that Steve had already been dragged into.

Word count: 5k

Author's note: @hellfire--cult I know you're sick of me constantly saying this BUT thanks for working on this series with me hehe

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter

♡

The lights that hang above the shelves in the living room illuminate the darkened room, casting a soft yellow glow on everything. The TV screen lights up brightly as the killer in the movie shows up dramatically again. The sound is low and no one is paying attention to the horror movie that you have all seen multiple times already. The rain paddles against the windows and the lightning crashes through the sky every few seconds or so, though no thunder has rumbled yet, making you feel relieved. The room smells like takeout and weed, dirty plates litter the coffee table but no one cares about that yet. 

A big cloud of smoke lingers in the room as Eddie and Robin pass the joint back and forth, the latter talking his ear off about the date she had gone on with Vickie the night before, while your eyes are stuck on Michael Myers on the screen, taking the joint from Eddie when he offers it to you, you place it between your lips, squinting your eyes as you take a drag and inhale it deeply. 

You can feel his eyes on you, you can feel them everywhere, on your face, on your upper body, on your bare legs, they’re burning into your skin and you’re now not as blind as you were days back when you thought that you were imagining things, that every slightest glance and touch from his were feeding you lies – that his touches were accidental and his glances meant nothing. But you were wrong, so very wrong. 

For days, your mind has been plaguing you with thoughts about him, and it’s nothing new, really, but it was different than usual. Because before the dinner at Joyce’s and Hopper’s place, he had never given you anything to overthink about, to make yourself feel delusional over. Steve had never touched you before, at least not like that. He had never placed his hand on your waist, he had never brushed his knuckles against yours, he had never looked at you the way he did that night and he certainly never commented on the clothes you wear. 

It drove you crazy, and it made you believe that he somehow figured you out, that he found out about your feelings and decided to torture you by teasing you with touches that he knew you wished had a deeper meaning. But he wouldn’t do that, especially not after your conversation weeks ago, not when he was doing everything to keep the peace. He wouldn’t do that – maybe King Steve would’ve done something like this, but not this Steve – not even when he still holds hatred for you. 

Steve teased you, not accidentally, not unintended. He did it openly, because he wanted to for whatever reason and you only realized it today, when you walked through his front door behind Eddie who held the bags of takeout, you were met with the same teasing look in Steve’s eyes you saw that night. He licked his lips and let his eyes run up and down your body so shamelessly that it almost threw you off because where was this all coming from? 

When did he go from hating your guts, from arguing every chance he got to whatever this is. 

Not only did he look at you like he was ready to flirt, he also placed his hand on your lower back when he led you into the living room earlier – and as though that wasn’t enough to make you crumble, he also leaned in to whisper ‘cute skirt, Blondie.’ 

Cute skirt!? His husky voice and those words kept repeating themselves like a broken record ever since they fell from his lips, they made you think so hard that you dissociated while eating the fries that you’ve been craving all day, missing the conversation between your friends and half of the movie that you watched before Eddie put on Halloween. Only the touch of Steve’s hand pulled you back into reality, you almost jumped from your seat when you felt his hand on your knee when he very obviously pretended to reach over you to grab the bottle of ketchup with a smirk on his face. That was evidence enough for you to realize that all his touches were intended and he did want to tease you, but not for the reason you thought. 

Why? You still don’t know. 

You’re pretty sure that he isn’t attracted to you, at least not in the way you are to him. 

But if he wants to play this game, then you certainly won’t pass up on the opportunity to tease him back a little, though testing the waters first – because you absolutely won’t make a fool of yourself in front of him. 

You have to take it slow until you’re completely sure that he is doing what you think he’s doing. 

You glance at Eddie, his eyes are rimmed with redness, a lazy smile plays on his lips, his eyes are stuck on the screen but he is so far gone in his mind, he is not paying attention to anything anymore, not Robin’s rambling, not the movie and certainly not to you and Steve. 

Robin’s hair is sprawled across the pillow, she looks up at the ceiling, the joint now back between her lips but she’s still rambling. 

They won’t notice anything. 

You take a sip of your drink, eying Steve from the side, and he is already looking at you, he is looking at you in a way that would drive your teenage self up the wall – you’d be a blushing and giddy mess thinking about it for the rest of the day, daydreaming about things that would never even happen. But you’re not a teenager anymore, his glances and touches still make you blush – but you’re not stupid and you certainly don’t daydream about things that aren’t even there. 

You still don’t know why is he looking at you that way but the little sweet voice in your head is telling you that he might have harbored a tiny little crush after seeing you in a stupid dress while the other voice is telling you that Steve Harrington wants to fuck you. These voices might belong to the ghosts of Chrissy and Billy because in no way would you ever think that Steve could ever feel anything more than hatred for you. 

How will he react if you tease him back a little? 

You don’t even have to make it obvious, you can play it off, you can play anything off. 

“Do you guys want something sweet?” Steve asks, “I got ice cream in the freezer.” 

“What else do you have?” Eddie slurs, something that makes Robin giggle.

“Uh, M&M’s, Reese’s, Sour gummies,” Steve mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he looks up, thinking of what else he got in his cabinet, “I got some chips too.”

Eddie looks at Steve, pointing at him with his ringed finger, “I want it all.” 

Steve snorts at him and at the dazed look on his face, “alright. I’m just gonna clean this up first,” he points to the mess on the table. 

Perfect.

“I’ll help.” 

His eyes meet yours, a slight smirk tugs at his lips, “you sure you wanna get your hands dirty, Blondie?” 

“Oh, I don’t mind getting my hands dirty,” you smirk and break eye contact, rising up from the seat and swallowing down the nervousness. 

The space between the coffee table and the couch isn’t exactly big, and it gives you the perfect opportunity to make the first little step. With an innocent look on your face, you glance at him one more time, before you turn your back to him, bending over in front of him to pick up the dirty plates. Your heart is pounding and your cheeks are already burning but you pay no mind to that. 

Steve sucks in a sharp breath, you can hear it.

Should you even be surprised? His eyes almost bulged out of his skull when your skirt rode up after you just sat down earlier, his eyes were glued on your bare thighs the whole goddamn time and you saw it and yet your heart skips a beat at his reaction just now. 

You’re aware of how short your skirt is and that all it takes is for you to bend down a slight bit more for him to see more than just your thighs, a little further down and he will be able to see your ass and your panties. 

You bite back the smirk as you stack up the dirty plates, taking your sweet time with it. You can feel his eyes on your body and it takes everything in you not to turn around to look at his face but your little plan backfires when you suddenly feel his hands on your hips and his breath on your shoulder. You freeze. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your ear, “it’s so tight in here.”

Blood rushes to your face and your stomach fills with butterflies. His touch and his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

This is bad. This is so very bad. 

You heard the mischief in his voice and his touch still lingers, he doesn’t need to take that long to squeeze past you. 

You don’t know what’s gotten into him or you, it might be the weed in your system or just the spur of the moment but as you pick up all the plates, you take a step back and press yourself against him, only for a one… or two seconds but long enough for you to feel the warmth of his body against yours, long enough to feel his hand squeezing your hip for a single second, long enough to hear him sucking in another sharp breath. 

And then, you step away from him like nothing happened, with innocence in your eyes, you look over your shoulder, “you’re right, it is really tight.” 

You see the way his lips part a little, the way his eyes darken and the way he clenches his jaw. He is angry that you are not falling for his teasing, that you are doing the same to him that he does to you. 

You walk into the kitchen and carrying the dishes over to the sink, you put them down and place your hands on the counter, taking a deep breath as you close your eyes, only now noticing how fast your heart is beating and how clammy your hands are, you give yourself a moment to calm down before you reach for the dish soap and the sponge after you turn on the water.

Flirting is nothing new to you and you’re certainly not shy about it, not anymore. 

Billy was your best friend, and if there’s something he was good at, then it was flirting and taking home girls. He taught you how to be more confident, how to embrace your sensuality and he taught you how to flirt. 

Losing your best friend took a toll on you and you couldn’t stand to be in Hawkins when every place you had gone to, reminded you of him, so you left for a little while. You spent two months in Indianapolis and stayed with your sister. You started going out, parties your sister had dragged you to, clubs and downtown bars and you had fun. For the first time in your life, you were approached by men, they flirted with you and that felt… good. You let your guard down when you were with them, you didn’t feel the need to hide yourself from them, they wouldn’t stay in your life for longer than a night, you didn’t have to fear them leaving or hurting you, there was no attachment, no connection or anything deeper between you than lust, you could be yourself in those few hours you spend with them. 

They made you feel something other than grief, sadness and heartbreak. They were nothing but strangers to you but you felt something in those nights you spent in their beds, their touches brought you back to life… even if only temporarily. 

You are used to flirting, you are used to teasing, it’s an easy game to you… with strangers. But Steve Harrington? He makes you nervous, he makes your heart race like crazy, he burns you with only his glances, and his touches make you feel like you have been kissed by something out of this world. He is different, he is no meaningless man in your life, he is not someone you would kick out of your bed after taking from him what you wanted, he is not someone you could easily leave behind and never look back to again. No, Steve holds your heart in the palm of his hand, he left a tear in your soul, he is the someone you would do anything for and that changes everything. You can’t treat him like you treated them because he is special, every little interaction with him, sets your heart on fire. 

“Jesus, Blondie!” Steve’s voice sounds through the kitchen, making you flinch in surprise, “use less dish soap, one drop is enough!” 

With furrowed brows you look down at all the foam in the sink. It’s not even bad. 

You turn around, glaring at the man and the tone in his voice. 

He shakes his head at you, crossing his arms over his chest as he walks towards you. 

“Are you washing the dishes or me!?” You growl at him, ignoring the tension that still lingers between the two of you. 

Steve chuckles as he stops beside you, raising his hands up in surrender, “you didn’t have to do it, don’t blame it on me.”

You turn back to the plate you were washing, scraping the sponge against it harshly as you try not to look at him, which turns out to be just another challenge – he inches closer to you, breathing down your neck and staring at you. You throw the sponge down and reach for the lever, not noticing the way his eyes widen a little or how he reaches his hand out. 

“Wait careful with t–” he gets cut off by the water that starts streaming from the broken lever. 

“Fuck!” You curse loudly, followed by a gasp when the cold water sprinkles all over your neck and your chest, you throw the plate into the sink and reach for the lever again but Steve grabs your hand, not letting you turn it off the way you want to, he is trying to move to it into a different direction, it only confuses you even more and his touch doesn’t help either.

“Hold still!” Steve snaps at you. 

Your whole chest is already wet from all the water you have been hit with and his angry voice irritates you. 

“Why don’t you get drenched huh!?” 

With a loud sigh, he lets go and you almost start raging. You lean forward, grabbing the lever with both hands when you suddenly feel him behind you, his chest against your back, his whole body pressed against yours as he reaches his arms around you, placing his both hands on top of yours, the water now getting all over the both of you as his now wet fingers handle the broken lever. 

You hear his groan as the water hits him in the face when he leans over your shoulder and he grips your hand tighter. 

And then, the water stops sprinkling and the only sound that continues to fill the room is the rain that still rolls down the windows and your heavy breathing. 

Your chest is rising up and down heavily and so is his, you can feel it against your back, and you can feel his breath on your neck and your shoulder, and you now feel it all by tenfold, thanks to your wet skin, it sends chills all over. You can still feel his hands on top of yours, his much bigger hands that cover yours fully. Your eyes are glued on them and the way their fingers trace your own for a very short moment. 

Your heart is beating so wildly in your chest that you fear that he might hear it. 

You can feel the water dripping down your shoulder, not the one from your hair but the water from his face. 

Despite the nervousness in your chest, you slowly pull your hands away and turn around to face him, only for a gasp threatening to fall from your lips when you notice how close he actually is, how close he had never been before, not even in Joyce’s kitchen, last week. Your chest is almost pressed against his, his face only inches away, lips so close that you can feel his breath on yours. You’re surprised when he doesn’t move his hands away, letting them fall on the counter and your sides. 

His hazel eyes stare into yours so intensely that it almost knocks the breath out of you, the look in them making you feel hot all over your body that you don’t even feel the cold water seeping through your white shirt any longer. 

Strands of his hair hang in front of his eyes, water dripping from them and rolling down his cheek, your eyes follow the drops that lead to his lips, making you gulp when you catch yourself wondering what it would feel like to kiss him or even just to touch his lips with your fingers – you dig your nails into your wet palms.

You don’t even notice how Steve grips the edges of the counter so tightly to the point that his knuckles turn white, but you notice the way his eyes move down to your chest and to your now see-through shirt, the lacy black bra being on full display now… almost. 

You are both breathing heavily, still, whether it’s because of the shock or something else now – you feel the tension, it’s so heavy, heavier than before and it’s making your insides churn in a way that weakens you. 

Neither of you say anything, you are too busy staring at each other, you are too busy wanting him more and more. 

This is not enough. 

How could this ever be enough? 

You have always wanted this, to be this close, to feel his touch, to find out what it’s like to kiss him, to feel him. 

This isn’t fair… This isn’t fair to you. Because this is only making things so much harder for you.

You know you have to snap out of it, even when he makes no move to pull away, to stop staring, to let go of the counter and step away from your body. 

You have to snap out of it or else you will do something that you will regret for the rest of your life. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, you ignore the beating of your heart, you ignore the shakiness in your hands and you blink as you tilt your head up, looking back into his eyes again.

“Lego head,” you whisper shakily, “the water stopped.”

He snaps out of his stupor, blinking and clearing his throat as he averts his gaze. 

He steps away and you make a move to escape this, to escape him but neither of you have noticed just how messy the situation has actually gotten – the water didn’t just sprinkle all over the both of you, it soaked the ground beneath your feet, making the tiles slippery enough for you to lose control and almost take the fall. Almost. 

A gasp tears from your lips when Steve’s hand grabs at your waist and the other reaches for the counter behind you again. Out of instinct, you lift your hand and grab his arm to hold onto him, steadying him as well as he slipped too. He lets go of your waist, gripping the counter with both hands just like he did seconds ago, caging you in completely. He isn’t only close anymore, he is pressed against you completely – his chest flush against yours, his nose bumping into yours causing you to let out another soft gasp. 

And then, you both freeze again. 

You blink. He blinks. Neither of you make a move. 

He looks down at your lips, causing your heart to skip so strongly that you feel it in your whole chest and even your throat. 

“Shit, Blondie.” 

His voice is so low and deep that it makes you shudder, your blood rushing to more than just your face now. 

“I didn’t know you were such a clutz,” he murmurs, shakily as his eyes get stuck on your chest again. 

He is nervous, just like you are, you can tell by the sound of his voice. 

You stare at him, struggling to find your words.

How can you when he looks at you that way? 

As you stand there, caged in by his strong arms, staring up at the man that is much taller and bigger than you, something that makes him all the more attractive, you feel yourself not only longing for his heart but also his body… on top of yours. His much bigger hands on your bare body, his lips on your skin, him inside of you… You are fucked. You are so utterly and completely fucked. 

Steve Harrington could do anything with you, and he is not even aware of the powers he holds over you. 

Footsteps echo through the hallway, causing yours and his eyes to widen and he quickly pulls away from you, careful not to slip again. You pull your hands back, now holding onto the counter yourself. 

Eddie and Robin come rushing into the room just as Steve steps far enough away from you. 

They both halt in their tracks, gasping at the sight of the two of you all soaked from the water. They stare with wide eyes before they turn to look at each other, holding back only for two seconds before they burst into laughter. 

You’re not sure if the sight is really that funny or if they’re just high enough to laugh about anything. 

Eddie bends over, holding his stomach as he continues laughing while pointing between the two of you, Robin holding onto his shoulder as her giggles sound through the kitchen. 

You press your lips together and clench your jaw as you look over at Steve, who nods at the both of them with an annoyed look on his face. 

“What the hell happened!?” Eddie asks through his laughter. 

His voice snaps you out from the daze you were just in… and thank god. 

With a glare, you keep your eyes on Steve, “this fucker didn’t tell me that his sink was jammed and that a little bit of a force can break the lever.”

Steve groans, though not looking at you, he wipes his face as he steps away, “right, blame it on me for your sudden force.” 

He walks out of the kitchen, brushing past Eddie and Robin who stop laughing when he gives them a deadly glare, the one you’re throwing at his back as he leaves to go upstairs, probably to get changed while you stand there with your soaked shirt. 

You carefully step away from the puddle of water in front of you, making your way over to the kitchen island to grab some of the napkins. You dry your face off first, not even bothering with your shirt. 

Despite their amused faces, your friends walk over to you, wanting to help. 

“Damn,” Eddie mumbles as he grabs a napkin, he gives you a smirk, “who got you this wet, Sweetheart?” 

You raise your head up, glaring at your best friend who starts chuckling again. 

“This is porn material right there,” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you as he points at your white shirt, but he is not even looking, even though your bra is very visible through the material now – what a gentleman. 

Robin chuckles, “should’ve kept the bra off, babe.” 

Your jaw drops as you stare at them with a stunned expression on your face, “pervs!” 

Robin keeps on chuckling as she walks over the cabinets, searching for clean kitchen towels. Eddie steps closer to you, patting your face dry with the napkins, which only makes you giggle when his brows knit together in concentration. 

Eddie’s eyes flash with amusement as he keeps pressing the napkin against your cheek, shaking his head at your laughter. 

“What’s so funny, smiley?” 

You snort at the nickname, and open your mouth to reply when Steve walks back into the room, his face now dry, hair still wet but no longer dripping. He’s wearing a different shirt now and he holds towels and a sweater in his hands, halting in his tracks, he looks between you and Eddie – his eyes flash with something that you can’t read, his face hardens and he clenches his jaw, you don’t know why but the expression causes your laughter to die down.

“Here,” Steve mumbles, tearing his gaze away from the both of you, he looks at the ground as he makes his way over to you, ���those napkins won’t do much.” 

He hands you the towels and then his sweater. 

“And take your shirt off, Blondie,” he orders, “you can wear my sweater.” 

Your chest warms at his words and your heart flutters, and it only makes you feel irritated – this means nothing, this isn’t special, you aren’t special. He’d give his sweater to anyone under these circumstances. 

“Thanks,” you mumble as you put the sweater on the counter, using the soft white towel to dry yourself off first. 

Eddie steps away from you, throwing the napkin into the trash before he makes his way over to Steve’s snack drawer, completely ignoring the puddle of water. 

“Dude, you could clean this up,” Robin mumbles, pointing at the mess on the floor. 

Eddie scrunches his nose up, “why don’t you clean it up?” 

Steve rolls his eyes at them, “I got this, I’ll clean it up.” 

Eddie starts rummaging through the drawer, picking out snacks as Robin turns around to look at you, and at Steve who stares at you with his hands on his hips. 

The shirt sticks to your body uncomfortably, goosebumps litter your skin from the cold water that seeps through the thin material, you want it off immediately. 

You take the sweater, still holding the towel close against your chest, you look up at Steve, “I’m gonna go change…” 

He nods, “yeah, you can uh… use the bathroom downstairs or mine, whatever you want.” 

You ignore the burning in your cheeks, the pounding in your heart as you brush past him and leave the kitchen, making your way into the bathroom. Your friend’s chatter fades away as you close the door behind you, locking it, a shaky sigh falls from your lips as you press your back against it. You close your eyes, giving yourself a moment to just breathe. 

What the hell just happened? 

With shaky legs, you walk towards the sink, dropping the towel and the sweater on the counter before you finally take a look in the mirror, only to gasp when you see just how much you can actually see through your shirt. You grow flustered knowing that Steve could see you like this. 

You groan in embarrassment, reaching for the hem of your shirt, you peel it off your body, replacing it with his sweater – something that fills you with warmth the moment the soft material touches your skin, your heart skips a beat when you look back at your reflection, taking in the sight of his sweater on your body.

You swallow the lump in your throat, distracting yourself by fixing your hair – you won’t let your mind go there, you won’t let yourself think too deeply about anything. This is just a sweater. And yet, your heart won’t stop racing and you can’t deny how such a small thing can make you feel so… comforted. 

When you return into the kitchen, you find it empty, the water puddle on the floor already gone but the dirty plates are still in the sink – you surely won’t risk getting wet again. You turn around and make your way over into the living room, where Eddie and Robin are back in their previous positions, snacking on Doritos. 

Steve is lying on the couch with his arm behind his back, the remote in his hand as he flips through the channels. 

You tug at the sleeves of his sweater, suddenly feeling shy as you walk into the room, wearing something of his. 

You don’t look at him as you walk past him, you also don’t look at him as you sit down on the couch, all that you’re focused on is the pounding in your heart and the nervousness that you still feel after everything that happened minutes ago.

You don’t notice the way he freezes when he takes a look at you, the way he stops flipping through the channels, the way his cheeks flush red when he looks at the sweater on your body – he knows that the only thing underneath the blue sweater of his, is a black, lacy bra and it makes him feel… flustered.

He sees the way you tug at the hem of his sweater when it rides up, pulling your short skirt along, he sees the way you bite down on your lip, he sees the way you glance at him nervously and suddenly Steve feels his blood rushing south. 

He swore to himself that he would never do what he did last week, and he really tried to resist you.

But how can he? 

How can he resist when you so clearly are doing it too now? 

Or is he reading the signs wrong? 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore

[n0tamused]

Hello! If requests are open, I would love yo request something

Would you be willing to write about Ratio comforting his s/o who's mental health is not the greatest (by which I mean awful)

Head canons, a little drabble, whatever you're most comfortable with

- 🦐

Contents: Dr. Ratio x GN reader, angst, turns to fluff, overworked and stressed reader, depression. Hope you enjoy this shrimp anon!<3

Words: 2275

Rises of the moon

‘I will not come in today, I’m sorry. I am still not well enough for work, but hopefully tomorrow I will be.’ 

You stared at the message yet to be sent, the phone feeling like a brick instead with the weight of it pulling you down into the ground and into the abyss. Talking was exhausting, yet sending the message seemed like an even more arduous task to complete. Your reputation waited, and you’d throw it away simply because you couldn’t type out a sentence good enough to send, a sentence that could save you some questioning and some dignity? 

Like a trap door your mind opened beneath you, your worst critic and the source of the distress. You felt like you were falling endlessly and hitting rock bottom all at once, making days and hours converge together until nothing but dust blinded you alongside your tears. 

‘I will not come in today. I am still not well enough for work, hopefully tomorrow I will be.’

The letters stared back at you.

‘Good morning, I will not be coming in this morning either, my health is not yet improved for the work environment. With kind regards- (Y/n)(L/n)’

Send, just send it, send. 

Before you can look at the message once more your hand grips the phone hard enough to press into the button at the side, making the screen go dark and after that you don't try to turn it on. Instead, you curled up on your side, your bed feeling like spare traces of comfort you could still grasp on with your phone getting lost amidst the blankets and pillows you hoarded up around you. Sleep had evaded you this night as well, overtaken by more important tasks of weeping over imperfect papers and reports. It’s been three days, today is the fourth. How much longer will they take that sorry excuse before they bring your integrity into question? You didn’t want to know.

Tomorrow, you told yourself. Tomorrow will be better (I’ll pretend).

After what felt like hours of laying in your bed, hoping to outlive the rumbling of your stomach, you finally dragged yourself out and roamed your home for some more, glancing at the trash can full of crumpled papers and the broken glass cup you accidentally pushed off the table the night before. Opening your fridge you could only relish in the cold breeze that licked up your neck and face, but the food held within looked no more appetizing than the night before. You stood there for a while longer, waiting if suddenly, by some chance, you may get a craving for a slice of cheese or perhaps a pepper instead.

Around half an hour later your ears were grated by the sudden ring of the bell, which snapped you out of whatever damp thought you had at the time. You weren’t expecting anyone - matter of fact, you told your close ones you needed space and time to heal from the ‘fever’ you told them about. 

Yet when your heavy feet delivered you to the door, you couldn’t say you were surprised by who was behind them. Greeted by the sight of damp purple hair and coral eyes, heavy with intent to get dry, you could only clear your throat before Veritas spoke up for you.

“I got your messages this morning. Quite late to send such notices for work, wouldn’t you say?”

“..What?” you blinked owlishly at him, completely lost for words. 

“Hm, what? You sent me messages you were feeling unwell, multiple of the same as well.. I thought it would do us both well to check in on you” Veritas stood looking down at you, letting all the cool air in as you remained glued to the door like a statue, heavy lidded eyes and ears struggling to process what he had said. You were sending the messages to your boss - but in your anguished stupor you have sent them all to him instead. The malicious feeling came back underneath your ribs and stabbed right up, and you could see Veritas’ eyes widen upon seeing your face morph into a frown-pout. 

“Here, let me in, will you? You don’t want to get even more sick, or get me sick as well?” he tried to urge as gently as he could, walking in when you stepped aside and putting down a grocery bag for just enough that it took him to take off his shoes. His umbrella was put in the corner, sopping wet and letting you know it was still raining. You stood stiff in the hall, shoulders wanting to push up to your cheeks while your hands crossed at the wrists down in front of you. You sighed quietly, watching him as he straightened up, looking over at you.

With a step he closed the distance between you, his hand reaching up already as he said “Come here..” and his palm pushed gently against your forehead. His touch was warm, and from how close he stood you could smell the damp smell of rain and autumn leaves. It was refreshing.

It was a quiet moment as he assessed you in the entry hallway. “Doesn’t appear you have a heightened temperature at all, but we’ll confirm that in a bit with a thermometer, just to be sure. Hmm.. you do look pale though. Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Not yet, I was just about to make something” You smoothly lied, not wishing to bring more shame by allowing him to look sad or worried or angry at you if you told the truth.

“Good. I’ll make you something. Now, don’t just stand in the hallway, come inside. You act more of a guest in your home than I do..” he motioned with his hand while taking a step to the side to let you through, urging you to come by, and when you did his hand found its spot at your lower back as if to guide you in. He hummed something softly in his throat, no certain melody but it was a small sign of his focus, and perhaps the liberty he found in your home. “Would you like to sit down here, or be with me in the kitchen?” he asked and you can’t help but gawk a little with the way he addressed you so gently, warmly, all while you felt slimy and ready to crawl out of your skin.

“With you, I’d like to be with you in the kitchen”

He nodded, his eyes mellowing further as he motioned for you to come with him, his grocery bag rustling as he lifted it up to set it on the counter. You slipped into a high chair at the kitchen island, watching as he pulled out a whole chicken, celery, onions and carrots. In his orderly fashion he sorted them out in a line before him, and by now he was quite familiar with the placements of things within your home and had no trouble finding the plates, the cutting boards and the rest of the ingredients. He washed his hands before handling the ingredients directly. 

“Can I do something to help?” you muttered after the lump in your throat felt so huge, nearly about to pop out of your mouth. Sitting idle did more harm than good, it showed in your shoulders and eyes. Veritas looked your way and shook his head, coming a bit closer until he could lean down and plant his lips to your forehead warmly, letting his lips linger a moment longer. 

“You can sit there and relax, I got this” he told you in a softened tone, going back to his cutting board. 

Veritas was no fool, he never  was, and especially not with you. He knew this was no fever, even if he did end up making you stay still as he handed you the thermometer to check again after he let the chicken cook in a pot along with the vegetables and herbs, standing next to you until that fateful beep sounded over the simmering and bubbling water.  No fever.

While the chicken was cooking, making the smell waft in the air in delicious waves, Veritas opened you up to conservation, small talk mostly until you relaxed further, distracted by the endless flow of words. He told you about what happened in the time of your absence, and what he has been up to with the Guild and what shenanigans his student did too. The last topic got a giggle out of you, and Veritas seemed to glow at the sound. He smiled too, along with you.

Hunger seemed more natural and welcome now as a bit more life returned to your joints and you rose from your seat to pace around the kitchen, still tired but more.. alive, just that - alive. Alive and comfortable. You would occasionally glance into the pot, narrowly missing the gust of steam that jumped up from the pot. 

“Should be done about now.. let me see... hmm” Veritas nudged against you over the stove, wearing kitchen mittens and removing the pot off the heat, and you promptly turned it off  and watched what he did. 

Veritas had made this recipe once before, when you really did have a fever. ‘Healing chicken vegetable soup’ - he said it was called, a recipe he seemed to recall from younger years of his childhood. You wanted to learn to make it and try to make it, but it would seem he never got sick or that he let you do it. This dish was his in truth. 

What came of his meticulous work was a delicious plate of soup with cut chicken meat, not a bone in sight. It was soft on the throat, although you ended up adding a bit more seasoning for your own tongue while Veritas dined on the soup as it was. He was slow with it, bent on observing you eat. 

“I assume that it is to your liking?”

You nodded, mouth full to respond. 

“Good. I am glad of it. Sometimes you have to take the back seat to get the joy of life, no matter how long you remain in that station it will be well worth it once you get back into the driver’s seat” He told you, hoping to get to you without addressing the matter directly, knowing it may result in more harm than good and your mood was just beginning to look up.

“Yeah… I know, Veritas. Yet having spent so much time at the head of it all, taking the back seat feels like a punishment” you managed to say after nearly scalding your throat with how eagerly you swallowed your bite, wanting to converse with him.  

“It is not a punishment, especially not when you know you need such a change in perspective. You’re doing yourself a misdeed by rooting yourself to the place that drained you in the first place” 

“Speaking from experience?”

“Pft- now, don’t be so brazen with me after letting me see you so wilted” he bit back quickly, but he held no actual malice, only wasn’t prepared for your rebuttal. He cleared his throat and took a sip of the tea he prepared for you both. Veritas was human too, and you knew of his own trials and errors more than anyone else - of course he felt the same, but you didn’t need to force him to admit it.

You smiled at his jab, scooping up more soup. 

“Wilted? I have to thank you for the nourishment then, I am already feeling more.. revitalized” you told him and your look softened his own when you looked up at him. Color seeps back into your cheeks, and you don't wobble in your step or stumble. Your bones felt like bones again, not air. 

“I will take your thanks properly once you really feel better.. until then, I’d prefer if you ate well and actually took some of the advice I gave you.. I may have not said it but your message did worry me greatly..”

The words made you slow down in your motions and you looked at him in silent apology now, but he once again beat you to speaking. “Imagine - I had to cancel my classes. What will my students think now?”

“They must be thinking it’s the end of the world”

“Hah” His pearly whites show as he grins at your words and you nearly imitate him, but you smile regardless with what energy you got back. He is leaning back in his seat, arms crossed in an almost boyishly fashion, relaxed. “Perhaps, but I can easily make up for a missed class. Let them think what they will.. May this even get their mind spinning a little bit more if my absence is so heatedly understood”. 

By the time you were done sharing jabs and words, you had eaten more than you expected. The warmth of the tea and soup brings sleep to pull at your eyelids, beckoning you to close them. Veritas noticed you nearly nodding off at the table and was quick enough to come up to your side, hand on the opposite shoulder from where he stood. 

“It is time you go get to bed”

Had you had any more strength, you would have said you needed to get to working on those papers, but the memory of the same was lost in the night before, and all you could think of how comfortable the pillow will be when your heads falls onto it, and how warm Veritas’ arms will be when he lays down next to you.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

A/n: the recipe is actually a greek recipe ehehhehee, I wanted a little easter egg

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇…

hello! sorry for not posting anything in a while, I haven't had any motivation but this is an idea I've been thinking of for about a year now! I hope you all enjoy it.

summary - it's your first day working for the famous weatherman ari levinson, it turned out a lot better than you expected.

warning - smut, voyeurism, recording, daddy kink, choking, fingering, creampie, swearing, degrading, slut shaming, semi-public sex, powerplay.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You walk into the building, excitement building with each step. Your knee-length skirt rests tightly on your hips, cupping your arse wonderfully and your tucked-in, light purple blouse hugs your figure, barely containing your breasts from spilling out. Your heels click against the tile, and your heart squeezes inside your chest as you near the room. Your hand shook slightly as you reached for the handle, pushing the door open, your eyes widening as you took in the hustle. Everyone was moving fast, ensuring everything was getting done in time. 

Your breath catches in your throat when your eyes land on the infamous weatherman. The man every woman has wet dreams about, the man they’d happily get up early for just to see him on their screen. You watched as women fluttered around him, refreshing his make-up, to make him look perfect for the TV but that was impossible, he was already perfect enough. You felt your knickers dampen, slick gathering between your thighs, cunt throbbing as your eyes connected with his. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, you swear you were on the verge of a panic attack when he smirked, his eyes moving up and down your body slowly before he licked his lips. Ari Levinson was going to be the death of you and all womankind.

“Miss?” You blink, breaking eye contact with a god and shyly look at another man trying to get your attention. “Mr Levinson is ready for you. You will be training alongside him, so he said to meet him in the weather section.” You nod, happily but shyly follow along, keeping your head down so you don’t accidentally catch his eye again. The man stops in the area and shows you where you will be standing. A table is wheeled in and you grow confused, never seeing a table in this part of the news before. 

“What is the table for, if it’s not too much to ask?” You stare at it curiously, tilting your head to the side. 

The man shrugs before his hand flies to the earphone connected to his ear and he speaks to the person on the other side. He looks at you. “Mr Levinson will be here in a few seconds.” That’s all he says as he turns and leaves you to stand there by yourself. You look around, standing with your hands interlocked in front of you. 

You are so busy looking down at your shoes, getting lost in your own world that you don’t notice the man himself has made his way over. His navy blue suit hugged his figure perfectly, his shoes shined, and his medium-length hair was combed and pushed out of his face. “Good morning, Miss L/N” You jump, looking up with wide eyes as you notice he’s neared, standing so close that you can practically smell his cologne. “It’s a pleasure to have you here.” He reaches forward, expecting a handshake.

You stumble, quickly slipping your hand into his, feeling a shiver rush through your body as you make contact, his hand so warm and large. “G–good morning, Mr Levinson! It’s a pleasure to be working with you!” You stutter, spurting out words as you peer up at him through your lashes. Your chest heaving as his blue eyes stare down at you. “I–uh…” You look between him and the table. “May I ask what the table is for? I’ve never seen you use it in one of your reports.” You gulp, hoping that you haven’t disappointed him immediately. 

Ari smirks, his hand comes around and rests on your lower back, leading you over to the table in speaking. “I have something special planned for this one. You, my little costar. Will be my special guest.” He smiles down at you, something darker behind his eyes. You didn’t know, but the moment Ari had seen you in the interview, he knew he needed to have you any way he could and he planned something so naughty, so sexual that the whole world would talk about it. “You don’t mind, do you, sweetness?”

“N–no! I don’t mind at all, Mr Levinson! I am just honoured to be working with you! You see, I am a big fan!” You blink up at him, wondering how he could be even more perfect up close. “I will do anything to make this perfect!” Ari’s grin widens, and you shift as he continues to stare. “I–is there something on my face, Mister?” 

Ari shakes his head and moves away from you, he runs his hand through his hair and gets in position. “No, sweetness. Now, be a good girl and stand behind the table for me.” He gestures, watching with lustful eyes as you obey immediately. He holds back a groan as his gaze falls to your arse, loving how the skirt hugs it so perfectly. Ari blinks and his face becomes straight, his eyes move from your plump arse to the cameraman, and he gives a slight nod, showing that he is ready. Once he gets the signal, he begins. “Good morning everyone! I am your weatherman Ari Levinson and I have a special guest with me today! Please welcome, Miss Y/n L/n!” 

You smile shyly, giving a small wave and you feel your body heat up as Ari takes a step closer to you, brushing up against you. “H–hi!” You clear your throat and straighten your back, wanting to be seen as a professional instead of some shy little girl. 

Ari’s hand brushes against your hip, and you swallow down the whimper that threatens to escape. A giddy geek by the name of Jake Jensen stands behind the camera, anticipating what's to come. He was amazed at how Ari could work his looks and money, being able to persuade everyone in the building to leave to let him do the weather announcement without them. He trusts his good friend to stream this live video to the house filled with the other group of friends. All the men gather around the couch, waiting for his friend to bless them with a good show. 

Ari presses against you, his bulge resting between your plump cheeks and you let out a small whine. “Why don’t you tell our audience what the weather will be like today, okay, sweetness?” You gulp, blinking a few times as you try and pull yourself back from the fuzziness. His hand comes up and he strokes your cheek with his knuckles, “You there, sweetness?” 

You nod, sighing softly. “Y–yes, I’m here. Uh, the weather today is said to be cloudy with a–a…” You stop, eyes widening when you feel Ari begin to grind against you, his hand sliding to the front of you, slowly pulling your skirt up. 

He leans forward, whispering in your ear. “Keep going, You wouldn’t want to lose your job on your first day, now would you?” 

You immediately shake your head, continuing as he connects with your bare cunt, groaning when he realises you’ve been walking around wearing nothing underneath. “With a chance of rain…” You clear your throat, biting hard on your bottom lip when his finger brushes against your soft, glistening cunt. A squeal escapes you when you are suddenly bent forward, your chest flush against the cold table, nipples hardening and slick gathers between your thighs. “W–what, what are you doing, Mr Levinson?” You whimper, feeling him grind into you.

“Shh, sweetness. This is what’s so special about this one. You should’ve known that I wouldn’t let someone like you slip from my grasp. I had to have you, and so do my friends.” He leans over you, your body practically disappearing with his large build, and Ari looks directly into the camera. “Say hi to them sweetness.” His other hand slides up and tightens around your throat, squeezing when you don’t obey. “I said, say hi to them. Don’t be a disobedient slut.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, a whine passing your lips as he continues to rub your swollen clit. “H–hi, Mr Levinson’s friends!” Your mind felt cloudy, never having felt this much pleasure before. “W–what are you going to do, Mr Levinson?” Your arse pushes back against him as his fingers slip into your hole, pumping fast and hard, curling them into that sweet spot you’ve never been able to reach. 

“Call me Daddy, sweetness, and don’t even worry your pretty little head about what I’m going to do.” His cock throbs in his slacks, hardening and straining against the material. Ari presses harder against you, fucking you with his fingers and groaning as you tighten around them. You whine as Ari pulls his fingers out of you, and your orgasm which had been close to the edge, fades away. “You don’t get to cum, sweetness, unless it’s around my cock. You wanna cum on Daddy’s cock?” 

You nod rapidly, grinding yourself against him, wanting him buried deep inside of you. “Yes! Please, Daddy, I wanna cum on your cock!” You gasp as his hand moves from your throat, his thumb rests on your plump bottom lip and a groan slips from Ari as you immediately wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking and licking, eyes dazed as his taste fills your mouth. 

Ari lifts the fingers that were inside you to his face and sticks them into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. “Taste so good, sweetness. I can’t wait to be buried between these thighs.” He reaches down, slowly pulling out his thickened cock, smirking as you whine and wiggle in anticipation. “But, I won’t today. I’ll save that for another day. For now, sweetness. You need to be patient, I’ll fuck you in a second.” He growls, smacking your arse, and his cock twitches as he watches it jiggle. 

“P–please, Daddy! I’ll be good, please fuck me!” You whimper, pushing your arse against his throbbing cock, and your skirt now rests above your hips. Ari slowly strokes his cock, tapping his leaking tip against your glistening folds, rubbing it through until his head gets caught on your entrance. 

“It’s okay, sweetness. Daddy will fuck you now.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head and a strained moan escapes you when he begins to push in, stretching your walls. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, sweetness. I’m never letting you go after this, oh– You’re squeezing my cock so well.” Ari grunts, thrusting fully into your cunt, gripping your hips as he begins to fuck you hard and fast, becoming feral the more his cock drives into you. “Feel good, sweetness?” 

“Uh huh, uh huh! So good, so full!” You scream, gripping the table as your body moves up and down with each thrust. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” Your moans echo throughout the room, your walls tighten around his thick member, and for the first time in your life, your toes curl. The men watching groan, pants tightened as their cocks strain against them. Your knuckles grow white as you grip harder, feeling your walls pulsate around Ari.

“Jesus, fuck! Sweetness, if you continue to squeeze me like that, I’ll finish inside you.” Ari groans as you squeeze him tighter at his words, the thought of him pumping you full causes your whole body to go crazy. “You’re such a slut, sweetness. Your first day on the job and you are already sleeping with your boss while his friends watch. You know how much of a whore that makes you? I bet you want them to be here, passing you around and using you.” You let out a pornographic moan at the thought, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as his cock begins to pound into your sweet spot. 

“Daddy, I’m cumming! Please let me cum! Can I cum, please?!” You cry out, thrusting your hips back against him, wanting to feel him deeper. Your head feels fuzzy, eyes cloudy and the core inside of you tightens. “Please, please!” 

Ari grips your hips tightly, pounding faster and harder, feeling his orgasm approaching rapidly. “Cum for me, sweetness. Milk my cock.” He growls in your ear as he leans forward, fucking you deeper. “C’mon be a good girl and show my friends how well you obey orders.” Your mouth falls open into a silent scream, your walls pulsate like crazy and your juices squirt out of you, coating Ari’s cock with white cream. You sigh, planting your face onto the table as he continues to fuck you. “Fuck, that was so fucking hot, sweetness!” 

Ari holds you tighter, hard enough to leave bruises on your soft flesh. “I’m going to pump you full, sweetness, and then carry you home to my friends so they can all have a turn with your sweet body.” He whispers into your ear, grunting as he feels his balls tighten, cock twitching and throbbing before thick spurts of cum shoot out of his thick mushroom tip and into you, filling you to the brim, coating your walls. “Jesus, you feel so good, sweetness. Let’s see how pretty your cunt looks filled with my cum.” Ari groans and you whine as he slowly pulls his softened cock out of your used hole, and squats down. “Oh, sweetness. She’s so beautiful!” 

You whimper as his finger connects with your puffy clit, rubbing it gently before he moves down and spreads your lips apart. A groan slips from his lips as he watches his cum slowly begin to leak out of your hole. You gasp as Ari slowly pushes a finger into your hole, pushing his cum back into you, deeper. “You know what the best part of this will be, sweetness?”

You hum, too fucked out to understand. “The fact that you aren’t wearing any knickers, means you’ll be walking out of here with my cum dripping down your thigh.” You let out a little whine, wiggling against him as he continues to finger his cum back into you. Ari stands, straightening his back as he tucks himself back into his slacks and ensures his suit looks perfect. “I hope you had a good show, boys. Now, sweetness. Let’s get you dressed so that I can introduce you to my friends.” 

“I’m so tired…” You mumble, nuzzling your face into his neck when he stands you up and spins you around, giving everyone a view of your arse before Jake turns the camera off. Ari grins, pulling your skirt down gently to cover your gorgeous legs. One hand rests on your hip while the other comes up and fixes your shirt. You slowly pull away from his neck and blink tiredly up at him, feeling all tingly and sore between your legs, having never taken someone so large before. “So pretty.” 

Ari smiles, tucking a strand of hair that’s come loose behind your ear. “Thank you, sweetness. You’re the most beautiful woman that’s walked this Earth.” His eyes fall to your plump lips, wondering what it would feel like to feel them against his. This man had taken you, yet not once had he stolen a kiss. Your eyes follow suit, flickering down to his lips, willing him to kiss you. A gasp leaves your lips when Ari leans down, holding your chin between his thumb and finger and kisses you, swallowing the soft sounds that escape you. Your hands clutch onto his suit jacket, holding him close to you as your lips move in unison, his taste is so delicious and magical.

You whimper when he pulls away, his and your eyes flutter open and you stare at each other for a short while before you stumble, your mind cloudy from the kiss and legs feel like jelly and Ari smirks. “Why don’t I carry you out, sweetness? It looks like I did a good job, just wait until you get to my house.” You whine at the thought of being filled by multiple different cocks. Ari leans slightly and grabs your thighs, he lifts you and wraps your legs around his hips. “Are you ready, sweetness?”

You nod, nuzzling into him more. “I’m ready.” 

With those words, you are off. He carries you out to your new future, one where you will no longer have to work and be worshipped by many men. Fate had a funny way of getting you to meet your soulmates, and a certain cameraman by the name of Jake Jensen was known as a geek, being smart enough to know everything about tech. Except today, he had been so invested in you and your beauty that he didn’t notice he accidentally switched the live recording to broadcast to the world instead of just his buddies.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[punkshort]

I was thinking about Swept Away (like always) and an idea came to my mind... What if... IF... Joel was like, watching 🌽 and reader wanted to ask him something and just open the door.

Alright let's talk about it. Smut (18+ MDNI) ahead!

You were supposed to be at the spa for the afternoon. Before you left, you even told him you wouldn't be back until closer to dinner. That was fine with him. He could get some work done in quiet. But when you had breezed through the living room, accidentally dropping your bag on the floor, you leaned over to pick up your things. He was fairly certain you didn't do it on purpose, but when you bent over he caught a glimpse of your underwear. Lacy. Lavender colored. Barely any coverage.

He recognized them. La Perla. His assistant spent thousands there before your trip, picking out bags and bags of lingerie for you.

Did it need to be La Perla? No. Of course not. He didn't even think he would ever see them on you. But he wanted to give you all the finest things, and if it made you feel good, then it was money well spent.

Were you wearing the matching bra? He remembered it. It was see through lace with some decorative trim. What color were your nipples? He would be able to tell through that bra, no question.

You straightened up and he averted his eyes, swallowing thickly as he stared blankly at his laptop.

"Can I get you anything while I'm out?"

He glanced back up at you right as you were fixing the strap on your dress that had fallen off your shoulder, revealing a quick flash of your bra strap. Fuck, you were wearing it.

He shook his head, unable to answer, and you disappeared out the door.

He wrestled with a hard on for the next fucking hour. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop thinking of you in that lingerie, what you would look like all sprawled out on his bed while he sucked at your nipples through the thin, delicate fabric.

Work was slow. Fuck it.

He clicked out of his email program and slammed the computer shut before storming off to his bedroom, adjusting himself through his shorts as he moved.

Turning the television on, he scrolled through the channels until he found Playboy TV, Hustlers, Penthouse.

He leaned back in bed and picked one, just looking to let off some steam and not expecting after two minutes to see a girl who bore a striking resemblance to you pop up on the screen.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath while he watched the girl fall to her knees before some guy. She ran her hands up and down his thighs and looked up at him, making sure he was watching when she took him in her mouth.

She moaned around his cock and her eyelids futtered closed like it was the best thing she had ever tasted and he quickly tugged his shorts and boxers down, gripping his own cock in his fist.

Her breasts were fake, he could tell that a mile away, but she had similar facial features. Same length and color hair, same color eyes, same beautifully shaped lips. Skin that looked so soft, skin that he yearned to touch and lick and pinch and bite. He stroked his dick, imagining you on your knees for him with your perfect lips wrapped around him, gazing up at him like you were fucking thankful for it.

There was a cut scene then the girl in the video was bent over a couch. She gasped sharply, which turned into a deep moan when the man in the video slowly entered her from behind. Joel could see the enjoyment on her face. The pure bliss at the feeling of being stretched open and filled. Fuck, he wanted to do that to you. He wanted to see what your face would look like when he first stuffed you full of him. He wanted to hear the noises you would make when he began to fuck you, when he sucked on your tits and when he smacked your ass. He wanted to see what you would look like when you came. The sounds you would make. He wanted to hear his name from your lips when he made you come. Would you scream it? Or would you whisper it in his ear?

Shit, he was close. He was too wound up. He spent too much time being fucking hard, wishing it would go away, and now his pleasure would come to a very quick end.

He groaned loudly into the room when he felt that heat build at the base of his spine. His stomach tightened and he groaned again, his eyes squeezing shut while he pretended the noises coming from the television were actually coming from you.

And then it all happened at the same time.

He couldn't hear anything. He was too far gone, his excitement too unmanageable. He only opened his eyes right when he came, when he shot thick, white ropes of his seed all over his hand, but at the same time, at the exact same fucking time, he saw movement by his door.

He had imagined you were saying his name, but it turned out, you really were. Just not in the same way he had pictured.

His door slammed shut while his cock was still dribbling the lasts bits of spend from the tip, his hips pathetically rocking upwards from the mattress to fuck his hand.

"Oh, shit," he gasped, in both pleasure and pain. How much did you see? This was bad. This was worse than you walking in on him changing, but the damage was already done, so he took his time. He turned off the television and cleaned himself up slowly while his mind cleared and the seriousness of what just happened began to settle in.

He gripped the bathroom sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror, his chest still heaving ever so slightly from his climax. He needed to get you out of his fucking head before he did something really stupid. Something he couldn't take back. Something that couldn't be explained away.

The way he saw it, he had two choices: he could leave there and pretend like it never happened, like it was no big deal, and wave away your apologies.

Or.

Or he could tell you the truth. He could use it as an opportunity to come clean. To be honest. To tell you he wanted you so fucking bad that it hurt. That he tried to deny himself, he tried to be a gentleman, but it was impossible. Your allure was too much. It drew him in and fucked with his head, twisted him up and made him feel all crazy and out of control.

He knew what he had to do. He took a deep breath and stepped out of his room, his eyes landing on your bedroom door, and raised his hand to knock.

[nymphbnny]

brat in pink II

────── toji fushiguro

⤷ mom’s bf!toji who catches you masturbating on facetime and decides to show you (both) who’s your real daddy.

tw: age gap (20s ; 40s) , toji is dating your mom (step cest??), slight masturbation, corruption kink, daddy kink, starts as hcs, oral sex (m. receiving), voyeurism (gojo on ft), ass fingering (lol), spanking, toji being mean and a perv, slight biting, breeding kink, squirting, reader goes dumb (hihi) MDNI (also wrote this at work so not proof read)

part I - part II

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ mom’s bf!toji who enjoys his time with you and your mother. he’s getting the best of both worlds, corrupting you to the fullest so you’d only beg him to fuck you. and you did.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ mom’s bf!toji who suddenly stops making advances to you, growing a liking to your mother. part of him still wanted to fuck your little cunt but your mother was taking all of his time and he wasn’t complaining. as evil and mean as he could get, he would make you hear your mother cry out his name as he fucked her in the next door bedroom.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ mom’s bf’toji who grows tired of your mom in a few weeks, his fondness of her being nothing more but an attraction to her lingerie, deciding to send you nasty pictures of his dick coated with precum. you’d clench your legs when you’d receive them, your clit throbbing at the thought of having him inside you.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ mom’s bf!toji who realizes that despite your desperate attraction to his you still went for gojo out of pettiness. you also made sure he’d hear how good he was making you feel when your mom wasn’t home. he’d scold you but you’d simply say: “you’re not my daddy. i can fuck whoever i want.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ mom’s bf!toji who starts to grow annoyed at your mother’s clinginess and hints of marriage when all he wanted to do was breed your princess cunt.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ mom’s bf!toji who would grab your ass and even go as far as spanking it whenever he’d walk past you. you cute pink shorts were visibly showing the outline of your cunt and your cheeks.

he would slam his hips against your ass whenever you bent over to grab something, just to make you feel his hard cock pressing against his shorts. the scar on his lip would turn almost automatically when the dark spot between your short would begin to form.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ mom’s bf!toji who once woke up with his dick in your mouth while your mother was sleeping by his side, just to prove to him you were ready to risk it all just for a taste. she’s so corrupt, he’d think while pushing your head further down to take his dick down your throat.

“come to my room daddy,” you whispered giving his swollen mushroom tip kitten licks. your fingers wrapped around his shaft slowly squeezing him and dragging your hand up and down to tease him. toji’s face turned red as he thrusted his hips one last time, his dick hitting the back of your throat before dragging you to your room, muffling your moans and yelps with your pillows.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ mom’s bf!toji who accidentally walks in on you showering, catching you laid out in your bathtub, your legs hanging by its edges while you hold your phone up, clearly on face time with someone, your other hand playing with your pussy, ….

“you nasty bitch,” toji spat, picking you up easily, the water splashing everywhere. “trying to make me jealous?” he prompted you on your sink, gojo’s voice confused on the other end of the screen.

“t-toji what are you-“ you gasp once he pulls his pants down, his cock erect and pushing past your ring of muscles.

“yo what the fuck?!” gojo yells, clearly surprised that you were being fucked by the older man. toji pulled your thighs to his hips, pressing them firmly around him as he bullied his cock into you, whines and whimpers filling the bathroom.

“watch her, watch how drunk she gets on daddy’s cock,” he smirked holding the phone up against your shampoo bottle so gojo could witness everything.

you try to hide yourself by putting your face into the crook of his neck, but he wouldn’t let you, he pulled you by your jaw, his hands firmly, grabbing your chin and making you look at the camera as he fucked into you. you were blissful your eyes rolling back and your tongue lulling out of your mouth as his cock rubbed against your walls.

“daddy, ngh, stop,” you attempted to reach your hand to hold the phone and end the call, but deed down you didn’t want him to stop. you were quite quite that he was fucking you in front of gojo would couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, his hand making its way to his dick as he lied back and stroked his girth.

toji laughed and snickered as he looked at the boy at the end of the phone amused by how he was getting off to the sight of you going dumb and limp, your fingers digging into his toned back as you held onto him as much as you could. “like what you seeing huh?” toji groaned as he hit your cervix, your head thrown back against the mirror, “guess you don’t even know how to fuck her like this for you to be so turned on,” this was filthy, you were being humiliated in front of them, gojo’s perverted hand going faster on his cock.

toji pulled out, your hands instantly trying to grab his cock to put him back in but your request was denied. “so nasty, open baby,” he squeezed your cheeks together, your tongue out as he spat, watching you swallow his saliva like a good girl.

“that’s my princess. were you trying to get back at me for fucking your mom huh?” he chuckled, holding you up before bending you down, slapping his tip on your puffy lips. you wiggled your hips, trying to get rid of the emptiness you were feeling but instead toji sent a hard smack on your ass making you yelp. “that’s for fucking that boy. does he know you cum just from sucking my dick baby? look at him and tell him, tell him who makes you cum and squirt like a whore,” he held your head up by twisting his hand in your hair, holding the phone up so gojo could see your reflection in the mirror.

you were trembling, your hand fondling your breast. “you do daddy, want you so bad please, want your cum in my tummy,” you cried, your words making both of them groan. it didn’t take toji too long to push his dick back into you holding your hips as he fucked you relentlessly. he looked over at the phone a few times just to catch gojo coming undone, his cum spilling on his phone as he groaned and whimpering like a bitch. “and i thought i was the pervert,” toji muttered then hung up the phone, not letting him watch you any longer his moves slowing as he blocked his number.

“listen to daddy baby,” he bit your shoulder making you focus back on him. he stared at you through the mirror. “if i ever catch you talking to that boy again, i’m gonna have to fuck you in front of your whole college friends and colleagues. hear me?”

“yes daddy, p-please, ahh, daddy, wanna cum,” he pushed you down, your head almost touching the sink as he sped up his thrusts his heavy balls hitting your ass as he pushed himself deeper into you. his hand wrapped around you to play with your engorged clit, your legs shaking as you were about to fall from the stimulation.

toji kissed and sucked your neck, leaving dark purple marks down your back, knowing that everyone will see them because of your slutty revealing clothes.

“such a brat,” he chuckled, his thumb going over your other hole, your head shooting up in alarm. “no, n-no,” you shook your head, knowing that if he slightly teased your hole you’d make a mess.

“c’mon baby, you can handle a finger,” he grunted his dick buried inside you as he pushed his thumb in, your eyes rolling back as you came all over the floor, the cabinet and his legs wet from your orgasm. “already baby? if i knew you liked this i would’ve done that a long time ago,” he pushed his thumb in and out, his thrusts becoming sloppier.

“wanna breed you so bad, gonna fuck your pretty ass with my cock next time, fhuck,” toji exhaled by your ear. you were like putty, letting him do whatever he wanted with you, the feeling of his cum warming your insides. “shit baby, holy fuck,” he cussed as he emptied his heavy load inside you, his cum sliding down your leg. “nuh uh, no waste.” he gathered them with his fingers before pushing them in your mouth, making you suck them clean. your mind was so cloudy and overstimulated, you were sure you were going to black out.

“you’re lucky your mother wasn’t here to hear you,” he pulled out of you, then pushed his finger inside your abused cunt to feel his cum in your gummy walls. “next time i’ll make sure she does though.”

[imagine-shenanigans]

Hands on my knees.

Now I'm thinking of an au because of the nasty coworker soap hidden camera thing. AU where some prick you slept with left a hidden camera in your apartment for a live stream on the dark web (shut up i know its cliche let me live) and its a 24/7 stream of your bedroom with audio.

And one of the boys is a frequent viewer, watches a stupid amount of the time they're on leave. Eats dinner while watching their favorite show, etc etc.

(Dark stuff and NSFW ahead warning.)

Soap is the one who is the most impulsive about it. He's the one who feels guilty about it until he covers his own hand in his cum while watching you play a game on your phone. It's an insatiable need at this point. Can't cum without thinking of the bonnie little thing on his computer screen. You said the word Soap out loud once while talking to a friend on the phone or going through a list and he came so hard he saw stars. Went back and clipped the audio, he has it saved on his phone with other words, just so he can hear you say his callsign. He feels just a little guilty after he cums to you doing stretches.

But that's the allure of it, the taboo, knowing he's a fucking freak but doing it anyway. And god does he love it. Honestly the guilt fades REALLY quickly when he realizes how long the camera has been there, bordering on months. Such a poor thing you are, so vulnerable, so sweet. You just need someone to protect you from the nasty men in this world. Need someone even nastier to do it.

He makes the impulsive decision to go to the pub you mention on the phone with a friend. He waits until you're just a little drunk and "accidentally" bumps into you. Makes himself as charming as possible, smiles and laughs with you, until youre bringing him into your home. He positions you just right so the camera can see (he's recording the stream at home) and makes you as loud as possible, tongue laving over your inner thighs, leaving searing bites anywhere he can reach like he's claiming you.

(He is.)

He makes sure the camera gets a perfect shot of him cumming inside of you without protection. Hooks his fingers into your mouth so you can't stop the sounds you're making. He licks the drool from your chin and up into your mouth. Spends hours making you cum your brains out when he's not using you, well past the point of overstimulation by the time he settles, leaving you a hiccupping and sobbing mess as he rubs soothing cream over you, cuddling you to his chest so that this time, the camera can't see you at all.

He gives a peace sign to the camera after you fall asleep, and says "Alright ye bloody animals, shows over." before breaking the thing. Shoves it in the middle of your kitchen garbage before washing his hands and crawling back into bed with you. He sets up a new camera by the next morning, this one just for himself.

(and, if he releases clips of you two fucking online, that's between him and the rest of the god forsaken fucks on there.)

//

Price is shameless about watching you.

He knows he's going to hell, what's one more sin along the way? He indulges himself far more than any of the others. The silence gets to him when he's on leave, and what better way to fill it than with a pretty/handsome thing going about their life? He spends pretty much every waking and sleeping minute with his laptop open to your feed, watching you go about your day. It's mostly mundane, really, sick in nature but not a sexual thing for the most part. Of course, he gives his cock slow, languid strokes when he watches your hips eagerly buck into the vibrating toy you're using, whimpers falling from your pretty lips that John just wants to swallow whole. Too impatient for your own good, you need to be held down and edged for a good hour.

It's that thought that sends him spiraling.

How much better oof you'd be if you just had him to take care of you. Such a shame a nasty, terrible man put a camera in your room - he'll fix that.

He ends up moving into the flat/house next to yours when it mysteriously comes available. He really wants a cute little spouse to come home to - really wants to sit them on his cock until theyre crying and begging him to move. (And if he can get them to call him daddy, well, wouldn't that be a sight?)

He takes the longest out of all the boys, ends up being the model neighbor, coaxes you out like a feral little animal until you're spending more time in his place than your own. He hates that so many people (mainly men, his main issue is the men) can see you at any given time. Can take what should be his. So he waits until you're out for work one day and he uses the spare key you gave him (so trustingly, honey you shouldn't give things to strange men like him. He'll bend you over his knee until you learn your lesson.) and he sneaks into your room and moves the camera just a bit after disabling it. Just enough so its more noticeable in the light.

(If he steals a pair of panties, well... he does.)

And when you come crying and shaking to his doorstep later, he breaks the thing in his hand, and chucks it before he ushers you into his place and coos at you as he fingers you in his lap, edging you as you work through all those big emotions :( Poor baby, he's got you now, no need to be so scared, he'll get you nice and needy and then fuck you until you're brainlessly drooling into his pillow. He'll even be so kind as to slip his ring on your finger too, just to make sure you know he's not going to let anyone else have you anymore. That he'll make sure you're safe from now on, isn't that nice pumpkin?

//

Gaz I'm still trying to figure out how to write but I think he'd see the stream by accident, he's not gone looking for it, and he feels sharp revulsion when he figures out what it is while looking for some other information. And he's taking note of all of the things in the room, desperately trying to piece together where you live so he can do the right thing and figure out how to tell you about the stream. Definitely not because he's interested, and sure it's taking him a few days and repeated visits and- well, okay, you have this cute thing you do and- okay he's not... well he knows he's being a creep, but he's doing it for the right reasons. Totally. He's not... he's not being weird for no reason like some of these other creeps. And yeah, okay, he jacks off to you now and then, it's not that big of a deal, he's a little lonely and he's a little desperate okay?

He tells himself he's gonna quit, that he's not going to do anything, but then suddenly he's in your town on his leave, and he's putting himself in your path at every given opportunity. Of course, by then he's long since accepted he's being a real fucking freak by what he's doing, but doesn't he deserve something nice? Don't you?

And sure, okay, it's a huge ego boost when you do look at him and flush, when you try to collect your thoughts when you hear his voice. He smiles prettily at you and it all sort of spirals from there, until he's well and truly charmed you. He drops hints about the camera, but nothing directly implied. He finds a story on the news app on his phone about something similar and cringes, pretending like he isn't STILL watching the live feed of your apartment when he's in his own. Says something about how only a real freak would put a camera in someone's house. Good thing you've never done that to his place and he laughs, because he's never been to yours yet so you take it as a joke.

Weeks later, when you're doing a clean of your apartment, you find the camera and call him, and he comes over and hugs you, coos that it's probably not even plugged in, just some dick trying to scare you. He helps you run through who it could possibly be that did it, until he's given the dude's full name and address online.

He gives the camera a shit eating grin over your shoulder, looking directly into it even though you haven't pointed it out yet.

He presses a kiss to your forehead and offers you stay at his place for the night (when he really means forever.) He makes sure there's no cameras around you ever again.

//

Ghost is... the worst of them. In his own special way.

Assuming he isn't the one who put the damn thing in your room, he's definitely a regular on some of the grossest sites known to man, half out of sheer morbid curiosity, and half because he sometimes does end up finding things he likes. Your stream isn't the first he's watched, but it is the first he stays for. There's something about you that mesmerizes him. He ends up visiting the stream more and more until he's pieced together where you live and what your general schedule is. It takes a few months, but he wants you for himself - nothing else will do.

There's no preamble, no game that's played like the others. He forges a passport and documents and gets everything set up, and you don't even know that you're about to go tumbling into his net. He's quick about it, when he gets into your apartment. Ends up tying you up nice and neat, arms behind your back and ankles to your thighs while you sleep. Leaves the gag for last, just for the thrill of you screaming (so he can punish you) when you wake up. He blindfolds you, and moves the camera for a better view before flicking the lights on. He wakes you up with a slap to your ass, feeling himself grow hard as you panic. He cuts your clothes off with a knife, tells you not to squirm, and when you do and he knicks you, he just tuts and tells you that you shoulda known better.

Licks the blood from your skin with his mask rolled up before he pulls it back down (just a plain balaclava). He ends up hoisting you up so you're on your knees, positions you perfect for the camera to see, and fingerfucks you nice and fast, one hand on your throat to keep you upright, the other pitoning in and out of your hole. He makes sure to hit your g-spot/prostate every single time when he finds it, sets an absolutely brutal pace that has your tears leaking through the blindfold. When you get close, he bullies your clit/cock, moving fast and hard until you're screaming and you collapse. He tells you this is your fault, for trusting some prick and not even checking your own home.

Lines his cock up with you and doesn't prep you any further, only one orgasm and a little bit of finger fucking not nearly enough to prep you for what he's packing. He ends up fucking you hard, and fast, and brutal, still pumping your cock/rubbing your clit through the whole thing, not caring for anything but how you cry and squeeze so tight around his cock. He lets you heave sobs when he finally cums inside, no protection, and he pinches your nipples painfully hard to get your attention. When he's sure he's got it, he warns you not to let him drip out of you. Never tells you to stop crying, but tells you if you scream or try and get away, you will not like the punishment. He takes the gag out and you try to wriggle away, so he puts the gag back in while you try and apologize, ask for a second chance, and he just puts you on the floor, angles the camera just so, and takes the blindfold off. He tells you exactly how long he's been watching, how many people he sees in the stream at any given time, and then he ties a vibrator to your clit/cock and sets it on the highest setting it can go. He tells you to give the boys a good show before you retire from your acting career, and presses a kiss to your forehead through the mask.

He gives you an hour alone with your fans while he packs your stuff into the boot of his rental car.

[cubffections]

𑁥౿ 𝓅𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝒽𝑜𝓇𝒾𝓏𝑜𝓃 — argenti.

ּ 𓂅⋆ cw. nsfw, 18+ ! fem, sub! reader. use of nicknames, mutual masturbation, so uh . . video call sex with argenti (∩∩⸝⸝)՞ veri selfship inspired . . runz

“your camera,,” argenti huffed, his fist tightening around his cock as his opposite hand adjusted his phone’s slipping position. “it pains me to interrupt you, but could you wipe it darling?”

with one hand occupied with your aching cunt, you grabbed the discarded shirt that laid beside you on your messy sheets. your face flushed as you scooted near the camera to clean the lens. “is that better?” you asked, your voice soft and unsteady as you curled the two fingers that sunk inside your folds. your desire for the knight currently on call was reaching unbearable heights as you watched your lover push back his hair while pumping into his grip. his twinkling eyes holding his stare with the phone screen. “perfect per usual angel, spoiling me with such a sight.”

your arm covered your eyes momentarily as you felt yourself heat up from his praise, bucking into your fingers as you ogled at his cock. “wish you were here ‘genti, my fingers are n’vr enough. yours ‘s soo much bigger.” you whined, thumb circling your clit as you pouted at the camera. “your cock as well . .”

the knight's cheeks flushed at your blunt words, his eyes squeezing shut to control himself from releasing at your words alone. “such praise . . i too also wish to be reunited with you as soon as possible.” he admits, his tongue licking his dry lips. “my yearning can’t be satisfied from this alone.” he finished, a groan escaping his throat as he pressed his thumb against his tip.

the arousing sight of him stroking his cock made shivers crawl down your spine, you shifting on your butt as your cunt suddenly felt unbearably empty. “you need me there, don't you?” you tease, slowing the pace of your fingers. “need me bouncing on your lap, stretched out with your cum? it’s too bad i’m many planets away. .” you ended with a moan, massaging your cunt as you watched his cock twitch.

with amused breath, the crimson haired man nodded in agreement with your last statement. he took the phone in his hand, positioning at a high angle. “you're talking quite big princess. but if my memory serves me correctly, you struggle just sinking down on me no?” argenti tilted the phone down to his leaking cock, tapping it against his abdomen. “perhaps you need me there to remind you?”

an shocked squeal leaves your lips, looking away from the device when your freehand accidentally whacked your phone face down on your bed as you felt your ears burn. "when did you learn to speak like that rose?!" you squeaked, the embarrassment finally catching up to you.

“aha, who else princess?” the cheery voice on the phone spoke, snapping your attention back to your knocked over device. you picked up the phone, once again face to face with your knight, “oops . .” you sighed bashfully, your opposite hand still buried in your crying cunt that was sadly being edged once more.

a soft chuckle left argenti’s lips, staring at you with love that you could feel stars away. “don't be troubled dear." he reassured gently, before positioning his phone again with a lick of his lips. "now, let's try this again.”

[shadesslut]

omg you wrote brotherly love so good tysm for taking my request!

what abt part.2 where they all gather at y/n's apartment the next month for a movie night. (y/n is kind of forced to stay friends with richie because he is in the same friendgroup as her and he can be nice sometimes to HER)

y/n is seated between ethan and richie, the older one tries to makes moves on her, talks to her abt the movie and brags abt his life she is not really responsive.

ethan notices and decides to touch her under the blanket they have, and she tries hard to make it seem like everything is okay while talking to richie.

in the end ethan could look at richie, licking his finger to let him know he just fingered his older brother crush.

Help I loved this

brotherly love, pt 2

MINORS DNI

Pairing: (Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader)

Content Includes: (Smut, Voyeurism)

Summary: Ethan has fun with Y/N while pissing off his brother.

(a/n: help im bad at making summaries)

✮

✮

✮

Ever since the night of Richie’s party, Ethan hadn’t heard a peep from him. No threats, no nagging, nothing. He thanks Y/N for that. They’ve been together for a few weeks now; devastating to Richie. Ethan was the happiest he had ever been. He was with a beautiful girl, and his brother stopped tormenting him. Sometimes even Ethan teased Richie.

Ethan was sitting next to Y/N on her couch in her apartment, with the rest of her friends; including Richie. Despite being a complete ass, Y/N still invited Richie to their hangouts, being the sweet and naive person she was.

Ethan, was not that.

On the other side of Y/N, Richie sat comfortably next to her, mindlessly whispering things to her about the movie they were watching. The room was dark, with the exception of the soft glow from the TV that played some 80’s horror movie. Richie had been keeping Y/N’s attention the entire time, and Ethan was sick of it. 

Thankful, for the blanket that covered him and Y/N, his brain sparked an idea. 

“This part they used chewed up bubblegum for the guts,” Richie whispered to Y/N, keeping his eyes on the screen. Y/N nodded, not paying attention to his words. She felt Ethan’s hand shift towards her under the blanket, so she reached over and held his hand.

Ethan huffed at her action, taking his hand out of hers, he grazed his hand to her bare leg. She glanced at him and looked back at the TV, nodding once again at something Richie commented. Ethan scooted himself closer as he smiled to himself. He creeped his hand closer to her inner thigh, but was stopped by her hand. He looked at her face, where she gave him a warning with her eyes. She flung his hand away and turned her attention back towards the movie.

Ethan’s eyes darkened, and he grabbed her thigh harshly. She almost let out a gasp at him, jerking her head towards him. Before she could say anything, he leaned over to her ear.

“Fucking stop me again, and I won’t let you touch me for weeks.” 

She gulped as his hot breath hit her neck and slowly nodded at him. 

Ethan regained his position, while Richie whispered to her, again. Ethan slid his fingers in the waistband of her pajama shorts. She hitched her breath at the touch of his cold fingers. He lowered his fingers, and he reached under her pair of lacy panties. She leaned her head back on the sofa cushion as he inched closer and closer to her clit.

Richie was saying something, but everything was incoherent to her, everything but Ethan’s soft whispers. 

“You going to be a good girl for me?”

“You’re so wet already, is it because of my voice?”

“Fuck, I can smell you.” 

It was driving her insane. She wanted to rip all of his clothes off and suck him off right then and there. Ethan’s fingers played with her folds, going from fingering to rubbing around her sensitive clit. She could feel herself getting closer, slowly reaching the edge step by step. She felt Ethan curl his fingers inside of her and accidentally let out a soft whine.

Richie turned his head towards her. “You okay?” he asked with concern, lacing his tone. 

She swiftly nodded and avoided eye contact from him. “Yup.”

He nodded, but didn’t believe her. Ethan was pumping his fingers in and out faster now; trying to get her to moan. He wanted Richie to know what he was doing, that his baby brother was knuckles deep inside the girl he wanted. Y/N tightly closed her eyes, and she roughly grabbed Ethan’s arm, squeezing harshly. She slightly bucked her hips up as he moved faster, making her reach her high. She bit onto his shoulder as she came around his fingers. Ethan looked at her with satisfaction spread across his face. He wiped her hair back before whispering, “That’s my fucking girl,”

She panted as he took his fingers out of her pants, and he looked at Richie, who was already staring at him with a jealous expression.

Ethan smiled at him, and licked his fingers.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Accidental Targ

Scene III: i told you to hold my hand! | Masterlist

Daemon Targaryen x Modern!Reader

Summary: After coming to terms with the fact you were in King's Landing some two thousand years before your birth, you get reunited with your friend and try to manifest your way back to the present. For the meantime, Harwin Strong is your bodyguard.

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: fem!reader, time travel au, descriptions of reader's hair, incestuous gremlin!daemon, very sus and innappropriate boss-employee dynamics, low key sugar daddy!otto hightower vibes, crackfic, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS I DID IT. I FINISHED IT 😫 Also, its come to my attention that perhaps the way i planned out everything geographically is ??? bad but no its not just roll with it AND!! remember yall voted for him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i have a feeling you didnt read the prompt fully but whatever HAHAHAA i honestly have no idea where i meant to take this fic, so ???? enjoy?? HAHHAAH

Shoot me if I ever say it again, but for now: gods bless capitalism, specifically for it desecrating a national landmark.

Where once I was one of the people who protested against the building of the High Garden Centre, girl, was I thankful that the old ruins of the fucking Red Keep laid there as a little ol' artsy featurette.

"What's that sound?" Daemon asks as we stand from our spot.

I turn to my side, never before so relieved to hear and see, no more than two blocks away, a rave spilling out of a club, the very one Libby and I were at before we got into this shit show. "That, my prince, is called EDM."

I hurriedly run to Libby's side to pick her up, but Daemon does that himself. He get down and pulls the blue haired woman on his back, and I help him. At the same time, I feel a buzz from my satchel.

My phone!

Daemon watches me as I frantically claw for my device. The amount of texts and call notifications that pop up on my screen is overwhelming. I decide to just let it go off and grab Daemon's arm, "come on."

We walk down from the ruins, shifting through the shrubs and foliage around it. I catch the sight a mall cop and feel agitated when he looks over. He couldn't care less though, the site was open to the public after all, and with a literal club being right there, we were the least of his worries.

We pass the rusty chain fence surrounding it, and draw near Harrenhal (the club). Once we're there, a bunch of men hoot and holler at me. I ignore them as they say something about my 'Targaryen' hair and it dawns on me they were probably calling me princess and lady because I was still in a fucking Targaryen era dress.

Still, I ignore the stupid fucks as they ask to see my pretty skirt, opting to walk faster instead. I was horrified by how loud and violent Daemon's scream was.

He shouted so gutturally that I couldn't understand a lick of The High Valyrian flaming out of his mouth. The vein on his neck popped out and I literally had to hold him back from charging and dropping Libby.

"Daemon, please!" I whimper, heart racing, "Libby's still on you-"

"Grab her and I'll fucking ram steel down- COME OVER HERE AND SAY THAT AGAIN. SAY THAT-"

Steel? I look to his belt. Fucking seven hells, he brought Dark Sister?

I look back at him with wide eyes, feeling nauseous now that I've caught how maddened he looked.

In a panic, I gently pat his face while pulling his arm back, "Daemon, please."

He doesn't look at me.

My voice gets softer and my eyes water, "Daemon, I beg you."

He huffs and clenches his jaw, still not sparing me a glance.

"We don't have time for them," I whisper and keep my hand on his cheek, "I'm just going to connect to the club's wifi from here, then I'll can call us an Ubor."

Daemon does not tear his gaze from the men, who eventually waddle away to whatever sewer they came from, still hollering bullshit as they did.

"Kesan daor nārhēdegon naejot nyetodha aōha irosh," Daemon mutters. I will not forget to slit your throats.

The relief that washed over me was unparalleled when I booked an Ubor set to arrive in 3 minutes. I whimper and rub my eyes, "okay, not long now."

Daemon finally looks at me, still visibly pissed, and adjusts Libby on his back.

I wipe my face, "we're just going to get in the c-" Fuck... I should probably prepare him for the car.

"Okay," I raise my hands, "we're going to get in a metal..." I motion to the space, "... there's going to be a- a- carriage? But with no horse... but and when I get in, you just get in with me, okay?"

Daemon's expression is now one of confusion.

I sigh and place a hand on his shoulder, "it's going to be okay."

His lips curl, "... OK."

I screw my eyes shut and shake my head rapidly, "I mean alright. Alright! ALRIGHT!"

Daemon takes in my visible frustration and nods slowly, "OK."

To be honest, Daemon was a pretty good Ubor passenger, save for the fact his sword nearly cut me, Libby, him and the fucking car seats when he tried to sit without removing his scabbard first. We were lucky the driver seemed to be used to... ren fair people.

He also seemed to be used to driving people to the ER. I was too relieved to think realize how fucked up that kinda is in the moment. Needless to say, I gave him 5 stars and an extra tip.

With Dark Sister in my grip and Libby in Daemon's arms, we finally made it to Lannister Medical Center.

The moment we get there, I run inside the ER and break down at the first nurse I see. I infodump everything, how Libby got attacked, how Harwin lost her, how some maesters tried to help us, how she lost a lot of blood, how I'm afraid she's going to die, how Daemon ended up carrying her, and I just keep going up until I saw Libby's blue hair scattered on a stretcher and the nurse told me to sit down.

I didn't have much fight in me left to argue, so I sit myself down on the bench. But then I see the nurse speaking to Daemon, who, seemed to be explaining what had happened, and I panic all over again.

Before I could stand though, another nurse was there to accommodate me. He did a checkup on me, asked me how I was feeling, and asked if I needed anything to calm down.

I told him I was fine and proceeded to answer his other questions. Daemon eventually came to my side and eyed him.

The nurse gives me a nod and offers a smile, "you seem to be physically well. Just let yourself relax. The doctors have your friend; they'll do their best to help her."

"Thank you."

The nurse nods again. He gives me and Daemon one last look before walking off.

I grab Daemon's hand once it's just the two of us. I look up and shudder, "we did it."

He looks down at me, violet eyes solemn. He brings a hand to my cheek and swipes at my cheek, "ȳdra daor limagon."

"I don't know what that means," I mumble.

"I said don't cry, pretty girl," he kneels in front of me, "worrying will not save your friend."

I stare at him, feeling my heart race and belly roll because of the look he had. He brushes my silver hair back behind my shoulders, only intensifying the flurry in my stomach. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, suddenly, my stomach growls. Oh.

Daemon turns his eyes to my belly as I clutch it.

"You want something to eat... prince?"

Daemon reaches a hand out, "lead the way."

I take his hand, grab Dark Sister, and hand it to him. He fastens his scabbard as we exit the ER and I go through my satchel, fishing for my wallet. Just before I get it, I remember that I blew most of my money on the Ubor.

"Fuck," I curse and turn to Daemon, "I don't have enough money."

Daemon rests his hand on his sword and simply stairs.

"I don't have coin," I clarify. I look around the road and figure our chances of riding a bus at this hour was nonexistent. I give him a look, "do you mind walking home with me?"

Daemon raises a brow, "as opposed to swimming home with you?"

I raise my brows and sigh, "Daemon-"

"Lead the way," he nods and points, "I am not one to tire easily."

I nod and slice through air to drive a point, "okay. No matter what happens," I reach out to him, "you have to hold my hand, okay?"

He looks at my hand then my face, his violet eyes sparkle with amusement. He chuckles but he links his fingers between mine (overkill if you ask me). I'm glad goosebumps don't form.

Daemon smiles softly, "you take me for a child, riña?"

"This child knows how to cross the street," I squeeze his hand harder than necessary and begin to walk off, "I'm not sure you do, kekepa." Grandfather.

Daemon laughs, full-on throwing his head back, "how hard is it to cross? You jus-"

His words go dry when an empty school bus passes us. He was so stunned by the yellow contraption, I had to tug his arm to continue walking.

Just then, a Megatron looking-ass truck drives down the street. I hiss and curse the 14 wheeler for emitting such horrible smoke, eyeing it as it drives away.

Meanwhile, I catch the prince's stunned reaction and almost feel bad for finding it funny. Almost.

We arrive at my apartment about 20 minutes later.

I press the elevator button and turn to Daemon, "don't put your arm between the door, okay?"

Daemon gives me a look.

The elevator opens and we step inside. Daemon gives me a look, "we have lifts you know."

I pull my head back, "you do?"

"At the wall," Daemon retorts as the elevator door closes.

"The wall?" I think for a moment, "ahh. You're right."

A beat.

I knit my brows, "wait, you've been to the wall?"

"Of course I've been to the wall."

The moment we get to my place, relief washes over me. I take my shoes off and scoop my hair in front, "fucking rip this dress off me."

Without a single thought between his brows, Daemon's reaches out to undo the ties at the back of my dress.

Just before he does this, I hear him walk in with his boots and nearly have a heart attack when he passes my threshold.

"OH, ABSOLUTELY NOT!" I turn and shove him back, "take your crusty boots off now!"

Daemon looks at me in bewilderment but walks back and doesn't protest as he removes his shoes. He places his shoes on the rack along with mine.

Not wasting time, he catches my arm and yanks me towards him. He spins me around and immediately undoes the back of my dress. I hastily begin to tug my dress down once I can.

He chuckles, "eager girl."

I rather literally jump out of my dress when I can. Pent-up rage overcomes me. I turn around and start kicking the dress away, releasing all my frustration and anger out on the thing. I curse 8th century Westeros and the Red Keep in particular and assault the object until I'm out of breath.

I proceed to jump onto my sofa and allow exhaustion to finally take over my being.

A second later, I catch Daemon's expression and realize, he probably thought he was going to get lucky when I asked him to basically strip me naked.

"Ahh," I get back on my feet, "sorry about," I point to the dress, "that."

Daemon says nothing as he steps closer. He reaches out for my hip and I swat his hand away. I shake my head, "this is my house."

He chuckles as I evade him on my way to the kitchen, which was not nearly as far as it should have been. The prince eyes the space, "yes. An impressive little room you've got." He follows after me, "I'd love to see the rest of it."

I look at him as I reach my fridge and open the door.

Daemon squints at the light that radiates on me. I cuss at the fact I only had cereal (no milk) and some vegetables that have gone bad. I grab the paper box and hand it to him. He blankly stares at it as I discard the vegetables.

Daemon's brows contort at he box, "it's cold."

I wash my hands, "yeah, refrigerators do that."

"Gra'-nola," he reads.

"Granola," I correct as I dry my hands on my shift.

I'm suddenly struck with the realization his grubby has have never seen antibacterial soap. I snatch the box from him and motion to the sink, "wash your hands."

Daemon turns to the sink and purses his lips.

For a second, I debate if he'd melt if he uses something antiseptic, but then figure I should still take my chances.

I prop the cereal on the counter and exemplify him how to wash his hands. Daemon, with slight reluctance, pumps some hand wash on his palm, opens the sink, and rinses.

I excitedly applaud him once he was done.

"A hand towel," he raises his dripping hands.

I look around even though I didn't have a hand towel. I shrug, "I usually just use my pants."

Daemon shakes his hands by the sink, "your pants?"

"Yeah. They're like clothes that you put on your-"

He grabs my shift and pulls me closer. He wipes his hands on it, "I know what pants are, princess."

I push him off and smirks as he dodges. I make a face, "well, I do so beg your pardon, your majesty."

The prince lets out a low laugh, "don't get too brazen, or I'll have you begging till you weep."

I quickly change the subject, "get that damned sword off your hip." I shoo him and rummage through my kitchen cabinets.

Daemon watches this and chuckles again. He tilts his head as he eyes my legs. He undoes his scabbard, sets it on my dining table, and pulls out a chair. He sits down just as I find a can of Sbam. Huzzah!

I grab a chopping board and open the can. A small smile spreads on the prince's lips as stares. But then, his expression drops when I shake, or try to shake, the processed meat out of the can.

I huff once I've succeeded, and I begin to cut the Sbam chunk, "you know this was in created during the war," I slice a piece, "it saved a lot of people from starvation."

"Which war?"

I freeze when he says this. I open my mouth then close it, unsure if recounting the details of world wars to him was a good idea, "you know what, never mind that."

Once I was done with the Sbam, I got a pan and heat it up. I get a plate and a loaf of bread, then place it on the table.

I click my tongue at the sight of his sword, "off the table!"

Daemon watches as I take Dark Sister and replace it with the plate and bread. I place the sword by the shoes and he takes the plastic wrapped bread. He feels the material and opens it, "what is this?"

"Bread," I retort, going back to my pan.

"No, I know that, but what's it wrapped with?"

I give him a quick look, "oh, plastic," I begin to cook the Sbam, "it's made of carbon... I think- I dunno- don't quote me on that."

Daemon opens the bag and takes a slice of bread. He pulls his had back, "it's sliced."

I beam and jump excitedly, "it is! It's sliced bread! Betty White is older than sliced bread! And so are you!"

Daemon ignores this as he sniffs the piece in his hand. He takes a bite then and makes a face, "why does it taste like that?"

"Like what?"

His brows knit and his eyes narrow, "like a pretender."

I burst into a laugh. I flip over the Sbam with a spatula, "imitation bread?"

"It wants so earnest to be bread," he pushes the loaf away and shakes his head, "but it clearly isn't."

I laugh even harder.

He snorts at my reaction. He smiles as leans back on his chair. A few moments later, he grows serious, "you ought to dismiss your royal baker."

Oh. My lips twitch and I chuckle under my breath, "ah, yes. My royal baker. Yes, I will dismiss my royal baker for making horrible sliced bread. Yes."

The Sbam was now cooked. I present it to him on a plate, "bon app-- ... I hope you like it."

Daemon leans forward to scrutinize the dish.

I press my lips into a line as I sit down next to him. I take a slice of imitation bread and fold in a slice of Sbam. I realize just how hungry I was after taking a bite. Through half-full mouth, I mutter, "it's good."

Daemon watches me and follows suit. He takes some bread and Sbam, then chomps.

I stop chewing. Wait, what if he gets an instant heart attack because his living fossil-self can't handle processed food?

He licks his lips and chews. I begin to grow more agitated as he makes a face.

"It's delicious," Daemon says, going in for another bite.

My agitation turns into shock, "really?!"

"Well, it's no roasted pork, but it'll suffice," he mutter between chews.

I let out a soft laugh and nod, "I'm glad it's enough for the prince."

"I'm honored the princess herself made it for me."

Aw, fuck. Who's gonna tell him?

There is a knock on my door. At the same time, my phone rings.

Daemon is alerted by the sound and I dash away to finally answer my phone.

"What is that?" the prince asks.

"It's my phone. Remember? You can call people with it."

Daemon narrows his eyes as I rummage my bag for my device. The knocking on the door gets louder.

I turn to the door, "just a minute."

I find my phone and feel my stomach drop at the caller ID. The banging on the door persists.

I answer the phone and head for the door, "hello?"

"Fucking hells!" the voice is worn and apparently worried, "where the fuck have you bee-"

"It's not you outside, is it?" I cut him off as I head for the door.

"What?! No! I'm in the fucking North, dammit! Your friends have been calling me nonstop, since fucking Sunday! -"

I open the door and my face falls. Standing before me is a man in a dark teal suit; his tie was loose, his stubble was thick, and he held what looked like a dozen bags in his hands.

"- You and Libby have been fucking missing for days! Where-"

"Mr. Hightower," I lower my phone as the man on the other end continues to chastise me.

Otto Hightower looks me up and down, then sighs, "out of the way."

Without another thought, I step back to let him in. He expertly slips out of his leather shoes then heads towards my sofa. He places all the bags on the coffee table. I follow after him.

I hear my name being shouted from my phone. I close the door and follow after Otto.

I listen in on the call again and I hiss when the voice pierces my ear drum, "Jon, calm down."

"CALM DOWN!? HOW CAN I BE CALM WHEN YOU WON'T TELL ME ANYTHING!?"

I begin to panic when Daemon walks over.

"Who is that?" Otto asks me. He notices Daemon, then makes a face, "who are you?"

I look at Otto, then Daemon, and dash over to the prince, grabbing his hand. I watch in real time the recognition and disbelief that floods the Targaryen's features as he watches the other slowly remove his tie.

"Libby and I got stuck in the ren-fair!" I reply to my phone.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU FUCKING CALL?!"

"MY PHONE DIED, JON!" I shout back a lie.

Otto's brow raises. He looks at me and mouths, "Jon?"

I ignore that and groan "LOOK! I'm fine! Libby's-- ... Libby's," I whisper softly, "in the ER-"

"THE ER-"

"I'M TAKING CARE OF HER!"

"WHY THE FUCK IS SHE IN THE ER?!"

"Libby's in the ER?" Otto mutters.

I raise a finger to answer my phone, "Jon, please. I'll explain everything tomorrow."

He screams my name and I have to rip my phone away from my ear again. I vaguely hear him rant about how I should explain why his sister is in the fucking ER.

"Jon, Jon, I love you but I have to go," I quip and immediately end the call. I turn on airplane mode and throw my phone on to the couch.

I release a breath and find myself pulling a smile as the man in the suit eyes me. He's about to speak, but Daemon beats him to it.

"What was that?" the prince asks, pulling me by the arm to face him.

I turn to him and make a face. It's Otto that answers for me, "her ex boyfriend."

I turn to Otto as he tilts his head and raises a brow, as if daring me to correct him.

I do, "my best friend's brother."

Daemon eyes Otto; the latter makes a face, "who used to your lover," he crosses his arms, "I'm offended you take his calls but not mine."

"And who are you?" Daemon hisses, stepping towards him.

Without missing a beat, Otto meets his gaze and scoffs, "who are you?"

Daemon's pulls his chin back and chuckles dryly. His expression screamed FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT.

I jump in front of him, my back presses his chest. I give a nervous laugh, "Mr. High- Director- Mr. Director- sir. This is Daemon."

Otto watches as I grip Daemon's hands behind me.

"And Daemon," I barely look at him over my shoulder, "this is... my... employe-"

"Otto Hightower," he cuts me off, bringing his hand into his breast pocket, "Director and CFO of King's Landing Holdings."

I wince, fuck.

"King's Landing?!" Daemon laughs out loud.

Otto produces a business card.

"It's a company!" I turn around and wave my hands, "it's a company! An establishment!"

Daemon does not tear his eyes away from him.

"He's my employer!" I explain.

Otto offers a piece of paper between his fingers.

The prince looks at it and slightly pushes me away, "what's he doing here then?"

"That's hardly any of your business," Otto retorts, tucking his business card back into his pocket.

Daemon laughs and finally turns to me. He mutters something in High Valyrian along the lines of 'let me do something' and 'stabbing'. I frantically shake my hand and push him back.

He thankfully relents and I sit him back down on my dining table.

My relief is fleeting when I realize the only reason Daemon didn't refute was because Otto was trailing right after me. My stomach drops when I feel a hand on my back.

Otto is right behind me. He places a few of the paper bags he brought on the table. He opens them, "I bought you dinner."

I turn to him, intent to tell him he shouldn't have.

"Amongst other things," he adds.

Daemon barks, "we have dinner."

"How did you even know I was home?" I say at the same time.

Otto's eyes flick to him, to the plate of Sbam on the table. His face is blank as looks back to me. He decides to remove his coat jacket, "I suppose you'd-" eyes Daemon, "-also think a candle equal to a campfire."

"Mister Hightower," I helplessly mutter.

He hangs his jacket on the backrest. He turns to me, "and you were missing--"

My expression sours.

"-- what did you expect me to do? I obviously utilized my connections. I'm offended you'd ask me such a thing."

Daemon mutters something in High Valyrian again.

"Of course, I had come see you myself," he looks at me through his lashes as rolls up his sleeves. My eyes dart to his sleeve tattoos and arm veins. When I begin to scrutinize the hairs on his skin, I realize I've stared to long.

In a panicked frenzy, I begin to unpack one of the paper bags. He, himself, brings out a stack of food containers and places them on the table.

The smell alone makes my stomach grumble.

Otto steps away and comes back with plates and cutlery. He places one plate in front of me, and has a prolonged stare at Daemon before placing the other in front of Daemon. He says, "I would hate for prince Daemon to be reduced to eating Sbam for dinner."

My expression drops. Daemon does not move an inch.

Otto turns to me and pulls out the chair. I take a moment before sitting down, because, really, did I have any other choice?

Otto opens the containers one by one and my mouth waters as I see lobster, lamb, and lemon cakes. He serves me meat and veggies, "I would assume you're not hurt like your friend."

I watch as he places food on my plate. I gulp before responding, "I'm just... tired."

"Then, I would also assume you'll not be attending work tomorrow," he takes my hand, putting the utensils in them. He scrapes a chair to my side and sits down next to me, urging me to eat with a motion.

I look at Mr. Hightower, "oh no- I will! I will-"

"You won't," he raises a hand, "see to it you're well rested."

I turn to my plate, feeling a flurry in my stomach over his words.

"Are you not going to serve your prince?" Daemon cuts in, raising his brows.

The lamb I was about to eat drops back to my plate.

The two glare, as if willing the other to spontaneously combust.

Before anything else could happen, I stand and reach out to Daemon's plate. I squeak when both grab me by the wrist.

My throat tightens.

My heart races when Daemon stands, "release her."

Otto raises his brows and tilts his head, "sit back down."

I rip my wrists out of their grips. Thankfully, neither put up a fight.

They stare at each other for what felt like ages. My agitation rockets when I see my boss begin to fidget with his hands the way he did when he was annoyed and ready to do something drastic.

I give Daemon a panicked look and grab his wrist, "kostilus." Please.

Daemon clenches his fist.

I continue to beg him until he sits.

I squeak when he grabs my chair by the seat and pulls me towards him. He mutters, "kesan daor emagon ao va bona run." I will not have you near that thing.

I turn to Director Hightower; I could see his annoyance building.

Fuck.

"Miste-" "Enjoy your meal then," he speaks as he stands. He grabs his coat and points, "I've bought some first aid things. I'm sure your friend can help you put that away."

I move to stand but Daemon stops me. He looks up at Otto in disgust, "do mind the steel contraptions on your way out."

I snap at Daemon, eyeing him hotly. He places a hand over my legs, ensuring I do not evade him. I watch as Mr. Hightower heads for the door, and in a split second decision, I turn to the prince and kiss him on the lips.

He is evidently taken aback, but it only takes him another second to get into it. Once he's put his guard down, I rip away from him and chase after my boss just as he exits my apartment.

"MR. HIGHTOWER!"

Otto turns around. I huff as I meet him just outside my door, "I'm really sorry about him. He's... he's just like that."

"You're not responsible for the actions of others," he retorts, nonchalant.

"I know. But still-"

"You are responsible for the company you keep," he adds.

I brush my silver hair back, "and you're not responsible for my well-being."

He snorts and shakes his head, "I'm your superior."

I press my lips into a thin line, deciding not to get into this conversation right now, "that, you are, Director."

We stare at each other for a moment. I examine his well-ironed suit, noticing how he didn't bother to fix his tie or buttons any more.

"I'll-"

"Is he not-" Daemon kicks the door open.

My eyes widen, "DAEMON-"

"-fucking gone yet?!" he points Dark Sister in an offensive stance. I yelp when he swings his weapon and scratches the door.

Otto's fight or flight instincts kick in and he takes flight down the hall.

"DAEMON-" I scream. I duck down and grab him by the torso, "STOP IT!"

Daemon screams out in High Valyrian. He laughs and lowers his sword, "yeah, you better run."