#not hot enough not fun enough not cool enough not exciting enough

[teddylupin]

.

[theoldsports]

SHITHEAD.

Art Donaldson x Reader.

warnings: a lot of them. 18+, slapping, begging, major angst, brat!Art, an argument with make up sex. Art is really manipulative because… he is a bit and we all know it. [Y/N] is very ill-tempered too. it’s dirty.

can be a part ii to SPONTANEOUS, or read as a standalone. this is my favorite piece of writing i have published on this account.

The bed was empty beside [Y/N]. She stared at Art’s empty side of the bed. The soft green sheets and mix-matched pillowcases went unoccupied. Not because he wasn’t home, but because [Y/N] hated Art so he had to sleep downstairs on the couch.

It wasn’t that she really hated Art. She did hate him right now. Not in a funny way. Their drive home had been silent. Poor Art didn’t know how to facilitate conversation that wouldn’t worsen the situation. His sorrowful eyes, but honest eyes kept glancing from the road to where [Y/N] sat in the passenger seat. The real showdown had started between them something awful when the door to their house slammed shut.

See, Art cried when he got mad. Or sad. Or profoundly excited. Their wedding photos were two-thirds Art crying and trying not to show that he was crying.

Art hadn’t cried tonight yet. That pissed [Y/N] off. She was furious and he seemed to feel absolutely zero discernible feelings about that.

They argued all the time. It rarely lasted all too long.

It was different this time. When [Y/N] started to say something cruel or shout or weep, Art got a little smaller, but he alarmingly stood his ground. He averted his gaze and said “I respectfully disagree,” or “What the fuck do you know about how I feel?” in a dangerously level tone.

Fighting with Art about this wasn’t fun. He was too cool about. He knew he was right. [Y/N] wanted to yell and scream because Art was so relaxed and condescending in his tone. When the man who had spent his teenage years getting referred at competition after competition as literally Ice tonelessly said: “Jesus Christ, aren’t you bored yet? What, going to over-explain the same information to me again, or…?” Finally, that had made [Y/N] drag herself to bed and yank the door closed violently enough that she felt the metallic vibration run all the way up to her shoulder.

And she was still laying there, staring at Art’s side of the bed.

At the Zweig’s party that night, there were a few hot topics in the Donaldsons’ sphere:

1) Lots of congratulations from people that had known them grow up, but hadn’t seen them since the wedding or prior.

This was mostly very kind. It dragged that smirk up Art’s face and caused his fingers to dig tighter into [Y/N]’s waist. That look of pride and tenderness on his face was more than welcome.

2) Lots of questions about Patrick. His lack of attendance was felt.

Both Donaldsons dodged these question as much as they could. Art kept an eye on [Y/N]’s liquor consumption. He knew how embarrassed she would be if she said something she regretted in front of Patrick’s family. Patrick had hurt them both, but Art’s heart went out to [Y/N]. Her world had been built around Patrick’s from a young age. Art was trying to engineer his own world higher around her so she wouldn’t be able to see the old place and people that had burned her over the walls.

3) “You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

With Art keeping an eye on [Y/N]’s drinking, she hadn’t really been keeping an eye on him. She just assumed he would keep his shit together. Art drinking in public was never really a concern. He wasn’t a big drinker anyway. At this point, his career mattered more and he was approaching his mid-twenties which made him feel surely less young than he had once. He wasn’t a casual beer guy either. It was Patrick who liked beer and Art who would have a moledo or something sometimes. Art did like white girl drinks, though. Tequila and fruity stuff. He had been able to shoot shot after shot of vodka like a pro in college at a season-end celebration.

Art was a tight-lipped man, but he was a giggly drunk who he got pretty comfortable talking out of his ass from behind a glass with an umbrella in it. Art was rarely comfortable with anything, so a drink or two at a party was welcome to him.

Another important point of context is that the largest point of tension between Art and [Y/N] was starting a family. They desperately wanted a child together, but they disagree on when. [Y/N] felt like she was fresh out of college, so she figured they had plenty of time. Art felt that he was fresh out of college, so he figured they may as well get to it.

Their arguments about this were once semi-regular. In the last four months or so, Art timidly bowed out and hoped [Y/N] would tell him when she was ready (sooner rather than later). He got tired of the low-tier shouting matches. Instead, he would pick fights about things that were decidedly lower stakes when he was bored.

Art had let [Y/N] field comments about family planning throughout the night. Unfortunately, when Art was polishing off a second drink, he ran his mouth a little bit.

Knowing he was the designated driver that night, Art did go easy. Art was also, like, five pounds. While he could hold his liquor with grace, he always got giggly. He watched with heavy eyelids as [Y/N] walked away to collect another drink following the dinner portion of the evening. The paper placecards with their shared last name emblazoned on them rested comfortably in Art’s inner jacket pocket to be kept as a memory.

Some guy who sold boat insurance and liked to rub elbows with talent was talking Art’s ear off. Art couldn’t remember his name, but [Y/N] would know it.

This was the precise moment that got Art in trouble.

Because when the guy whose name Art was sure started with an R said: “So! You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

Art said:

“Any day now, I hope. Tomorrow. I’m good to go. [Y/N] thinks now’s not a great time for her.”

He had said it with a smirk and a stupid little laugh. It was basically locker room talk. Big deal. He would’ve said it to Patrick with [Y/N] present in the room. This guy wasn’t Patrick and he was technically speaking behind her back.

Art had forgotten how close they were standing to the bar. He had forgotten that the frequency of his pitchy tenor was known to carry. He had forgotten that he was well known to be an instigator of fights even though he never actually threw the first punch. He had forgotten that he hadn’t been whispering. He had forgotten that this guy… Richy? Ronnie? was pretty much a stranger who had no business knowing their business.

Now, Art was sleeping on the couch and his side of the bed was empty.

Jackass.

[Y/N] stared still at the empty bed and didn’t know how to articulate her upset to an Art who had seemingly yet to feel ashamed.

She had a headache and was tired. But sleep wasn’t going to come easy and all she had to look forward to was a hangover.

Art didn’t really snore, but he was a heavy breather when he slept. The lack of his white noise made the A/C blowing and the stairs creaking too loud. Maybe all of this was on [Y/N] for making Art uncomfortable, she dared to think.

Then she reminded herself that it was Art’s fault for talking too much and for drinking when he knew he was supposed to drive home.

[Y/N] rolled over to face away from Art’s spot. All she could think about is how his hands always sleepily pawed at her to pull her back when she got too far away from him before he fell asleep.

“So, what’d you do?” Patrick asked.

“She hates me.” Art replied. It was almost a question.

“I asked what you did, not what she feels. She already told us what she feels and it’s that she hates you.” Patrick stated. When Patrick had stopped through town for a match, he had come by for dinner with, well, his best friends. This had been right after they’d gotten engaged.

Art sniffled. He didn’t want to cry in front of Patrick. Art would sooner cry in front of his own father. Both men would have laughed in his face, but it would have stung more from Patrick. “We got into a fight yesterday. A big one. Like, the first, uh, big one. She’s worried about the f—“

“The future? Please,” Patrick said bitterly. He frowned and his jaw tightened, but he combatted it by tossing Art a smile before the other man noticed the tension. “Stupid. You’re gonna marry her. You’ll play tennis. She’ll do her… columns? Articles. I don’t get what it is that she does—“

“She writes for—“

“Sure, yeah. You’re gonna have two kids so you can each pick a favorite one. And she’s gonna be a pain in your ass forever. Don’t be a pussy.”

Art sniffled again and stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I didn’t think I did,” Art said meekly. “I don’t get it. She gets so mad sometimes. At me.” Patrick stared at him blankly. Art had to know that he was usually at least a little bit the problem.

“Did she do the thing where she calls you a—“

“Shithead bastard?”

“Shithead bastard.” Both boys said at the same time. Art dragged his hands through his hair and looked up at Patrick. Both of them quirked a smirk at the other.

“See,” Patrick started. “You’ll be fine. Fuckin’ go after her.”

“And say what!”

“Uh… ‘I’m sorry?’ You do that kinda shit. She’ll like that.”

It was impossible to know how long [Y/N] laid there. The clock was on Art’s side and she would get spitting mad if she rolled back over.

She could just go downstairs and tell Art to come back to bed. He was probably sleeping just fine.

“Hey, hon, you don’t hate me, right?” Art’s voice whispered in the darkness.

[Y/N] was fairly certain she had imagined it. She had not heard his sweaty feet on the stairs or his fingers against the doorknob. Quickly, [Y/N] whipped over to face the door behind her.

There was Art. His sweatpants sat low on his hips and his shirt was long gone. Clothing didn’t often survive the night on Art’s back.

Really, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had taken Art to work through coming upstairs so quietly. “Mm?” [Y/N] groaned in question.

Art rocked his right shoulder into the doorway to lean. His arms were crossed and his eyes straight ahead on her from what [Y/N] could tell in the glow of the hallway’s thermostat. “Please just tell me you don’t hate me and I’ll let you go back to sleep. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

With a sigh, [Y/N] sat up and rolled her cracking shoulders back. “I don’t hate you, Art.” Her heart melted a little bit. [Y/N] knew it was immature, but her special attack in arguments since childhood was to bandy around the word hate a lot. Not that she had said it to Art tonight, but she had no doubt said it before. More than once. More times than she could count, maybe.

She was surprised Art had never asked this before. That surprise hurt in an a way that was too complex to describe. “I could never hate you.” [Y/N] continued, voice hushed only because it was dark out.

Art’s posture relaxed slightly. “You promise you don’t?” Said Art’s evermore crippling lack of self-confidence.

“I promise.” [Y/N] replied calmly.

“Okay. Thank you.” Art said in a small voice.

“I love you, baby. I don’t hate you. You shouldn’t have to ask that. I’m sorry I made you feel like you even have to ask that.”

Art frowned sharply. “No, I’m the one that should be sorry. You told me nicely not to talk about—“

“Don’t play that. You have to know you don’t feel like you did anything wrong, so you don’t have to invent a situation where you’re some horrible person.”

Art was silent.

[Y/N] continued. “I’m pissed because you told Randy,” RANDY. His name was RANDY. That’s it. “Our business. My business, really. He’s an asshole. It’s fine. Well, not now, but eventually. But you kinda martyred yourself on it. You don’t have to do that and I don’t hate you. You know I don’t… Right?”

“I’m sorry.” Art said quickly. He was gifted at making every single minor problem his own fault. He knew he was a little bit of an awful person for that, but he would die before admitting it. Art would hide behind his martyring habit as long as his cross could hold him, though. [Y/N] hadn’t noticed before this moment, but she could see the shining of his eyes in the digital blue-green glow. Tears. This time, less than obvious waterworks. Aw.

“I’m sorry. I’m still pissed at you for running your mouth, but I’m sorry too.”

Art nodded, said nothing else and reached for the doorknob.

Here is a frustrating thing about Art.

He said he was going to leave for downstairs once [Y/N] said she didn’t hate him. He started to make good on that vow. If he says something, he’s going to do it, even though he doesn’t have to do it.

“Come on,” [Y/N] called louder than she’d been whispering. “Come here, pretty baby.”

Pretty Baby by Blondie had been their wedding song. She had been calling him that for almost as long as she had known him. Saying it, or hearing the song always made that stunning, small crooked smile stretch up beyond his sad puppy eyes all the way to his ears.

Art’s kryptonite was pretty baby. They both knew it.

He turned to look at her with a slight blush on his cheeks, almost visible in the dark. Art shifted one of his feet childishly over the other in apprehension.. “Don’t make me say it again. I don’t like to ask twice.” [Y/N] reminded him.

After a hasty nod, Art was in bed before he [Y/N] blinked. The blonde sat bolt upright beside [Y/N] with his eyes wide. Hesitant, but coyly so. He knew this pattern. The agony and shame from her brutality would only last so long. Housepets loved to cause trouble for treat.

Not to say that Art liked to start fights so he could play some low-status lapdog that got to feel his wife’s fingers comb through his hair the way he liked as a reward for an apology. The man bit his cheek to avoid a devious smirk. A part of him did like to do that sometimes, though.

He always got away with it. He was such a nice boy.

[Y/N] rolled her eyes and leaned back into the threadbare pillows. With a finger, she beckoned Art nearer. Hesitation eliminated, Art flopped slowly down beside [Y/N]; she on her back, he on his side, facing her. Delicately, Art’s fingers dragged down [Y/N]’s arm to curl in her fingers.

Not long after that, his plush mouth climbed down from her neck. Then shoulders and collarbones. Then bicep. Elbow. Forearm and wrist. Down her hand to her silver-studded ring finger. Each kiss with accompanied with an honest and dutiful I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He was sorry. Genuinely. Sorry for the upset he brought his wife, but not the cause. Art’s beautiful duel-colored eyes glanced up at [Y/N]’s blown pupils through her own fingers.

“I didn’t mean to talk about you like that… I just… I love you so much that I want more of you. That’s all, honey,” Art laid his head on [Y/N]’s upper chest and his mouth moved against the front of her throat. “I’m just a little stupid, huh…”

Under his lips, Art could feel the rumble of a laugh rip through [Y/N]’s throat. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair to hold him in place. “Do-don’t talk about yourself like that,” she mumbled and gave his hair a lovely tug with both hands. He whimpered. [Y/N] wanted to bottle that sound. Art would always remember what she said next and how she said it: “Only I get to talk about you like that… St-stupid.”

This was the version of [Y/N] he was going to remember when he thought of her every day for the rest of his life. That sentence, the way her hair hung from where he had pushed it away from her neck. The sting of the cold metal from her wedding ring on the back of his neck and the stone of her engagement ring pressing into where he reached his palm to place his hand over hers. There was just the wrong amount of clothes between them. Her eyes ringed smoky from the makeup smudges and the exhaustion.

“Say it again.” Art whispered, swinging a knee over [Y/N]’s thighs so he could stare down at her. His forehead pressed softly against [Y/N]’s.

[Y/N]’s mouth fell open slightly with a breathy exhalation. Holy shit. “What, pretty baby, you want me to tell you how stupid you are? You like that?” [Y/N] almost whispered into Art’s still lips. He was too shocked to kiss her back, but too turned on to pull away. Art whimpered louder than before. [Y/N] felt him nod.

So she didn’t hold back. “You think I need to punish you after you behaved like that today or something? You need to atone for what a moron you were, shithead?” [Y/N] kept her tone light enough to just about tease as her nose trailed along the side of his. Her objective was to belittle. Her nails slid down Art’s muscular, sturdy back.

They both knew Art was a masochist on his worst days. Did he get off on being degraded sometimes? Sure. But this series of events was ridiculously new and exciting for [Y/N]. And shockingly obviously for Art too.

His hips pressed into her pathetically. “What? Did you need help with something?” She asked innocently when she felt Art’s hard-on against her thigh. [Y/N] kissed him distractingly warmly for how she was treating him. Art’s head spun and he couldn’t seem to make sense of anything anymore. He had backed himself into the best kind of corner.

Across Art’s hips and side went [Y/N]’s left hand, to the front of his sweatpants. Humiliatingly, Art blinked tears out of his eyes and screwed them shut. His mouth opened and closed, but no intelligent sound came out. [Y/N] planted a kiss at the corner of his parted lips. His strong arms boxed [Y/N] protectively in from above, but she had him locked into place, really. “Baby, if you want something, you know you have to ask for it.”

“Nnh,” Art tried, eyes stuck shut. His attention was mostly spent hold himself up over his wife. His insanely gorgeous wife. [Y/N]’s other hand grabbed his jaw tenderly. He still didn’t look at her. Art was gathering his courage. “Yo-you already told me I couldn’t have what I wanted.”

With a sharp inhale, [Y/N] grip went from gentle to nonexistent. At the lack of contact, Art’s damp eyes crept open one at a time to see if his brattiness had overstepped the situation. His frightened eyes caught [Y/N]’s. She popped the side of his face sharply with an open palm. Art blinked and tipped his head to the side like a dog.

That was big trouble, huh?

“Fuck,” he said. Both of them panted in sync. “I’m sorry.” He meant it.

[Y/N] pulled Art’s face to hers and kissed him hard. “I love… you.” She said.

[coco-loco-nut]

Iconic

pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

summary: you make it your life goal to embarrass Oscar and annoy him, keeping things fun in his life

masterlist

———————————

“He’s so cute,” a girl sighs in the McLaren fan zone.

“He really is,” you smile, leaning against the barrier.

“Oh my god, hi!” the girl gasps, recognizing you from your boyfriend’s Instagram. You haven’t had social media since you were cyber bullied in middle school, so you were a mystery to his fans. It also let you go to fan zone and have fun with them. You also run a fan page for Oscar on Instagram.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind that I am standing here?” you say, holding a folded poster in one of your hand and an arm full of friendship bracelets that Oscar helped you make.

“Not at all, oh my god. Sorry, it’s just that you are so iconic,” the girl says and you quirk your eyebrow.

“How so?”

“You don’t have social media which is iconic, but all the fans know how nice you are, and you are always hanging out with us here,” one of her friends say, you nod along.

“Of course I would be here, I gotta support Papaya boys,” you smile. “Wanna help me embarrass Osc?” you ask the group around you.

“It would legit be our honor,” the one laughs, you laugh with her.

“Here,” you take off some friendship bracelets and exchange them with the girls.

“You are the best WAG,” another girl says and you blush a little, dutifully putting on each bracelet.

“I really do try. I even run a fan account for Osc,” you laugh, not revealing more than that.

“No way, that’s actually icon behavior,” the first girl says and you grin.

“Want to see the sign?” you ask, excited to show your latest sign off. Oscar tried to look but you refused to even work on it until he left the hotel.

“Yes!” you are quick to unfold the sign. Your neat handwriting carefully placed each letter just large enough so Oscar could read it.

“Omg, I can’t wait to see his reaction,” one of the fans say, the area is brimming full now, ready for the drivers to come out in a couple minutes.

“Make sure you get pictures of his reaction, he’s so cute when he’s embarrassed,” you giggle, getting ready to hold the sign in front of you as Lando walk onto the stage, excited to see what you wrote this time. He reads it and laughs, turning towards where Oscar is entering. You watch his brows furrow as he reads it. Oscar- I want to eat you up like a pastry :). The Australian’s face turns bright red as he laughs and winks at you, trying to hide his awkward embarrassment at the pickup line. It wasn’t your best, but it was the perfect amount of cringe. Lando gives you a thumbs up from the stage.

“You were right, his face was priceless,” the fan says as you watch Oscar push back his mousy brown hair before putting the hat back on. You swear you might be drooling while watching him, but you catch his gaze falling on you too.

“I LOVE YOU OSCAR!” you yell as he waves goodbye to the fans, giving you a wink. You make sure all of your friendship bracelets are given away before thanking the fans for being cool about you chilling with them. You head back to the paddock, scanning your pass, and beelining to the McLaren motorhome.

“Y/n, can I have that sign?” Lando asks and you happily hand it over.

“As long as you don’t use it to steal my man, have at it,” you chuckle as the Brit hugs you in thanks before walking away.

“Eat me like a pastry?” Oscar gives you an amused smile. “You do know my parents watch that, right?” His favorite thing about you his your playfulness, you can be serious when needed, but your teasing and jests keep his life fun.

“Oh, I know, your mom helped me with that one, the fans loved it too,” you laugh. “You did look so hot up there,” you slightly exaggerate checking him out.

“Why don’t we go back to my drivers room and you show me how you’d like to eat me?” Oscar whispers in your ear, trying to seduce you, but you resist.

“Oh, I’d probably start with the thighs, best muscle to fat ratio in my opinion. Hm, now I’m kinda hungry, what is in hospitality?” you ask, moving towards the food area. Oscar wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you back towards him as he picks you up to carry you to his room.

“Nope, don’t start things you can’t finish,” he says, clearly a little hot and bothered.

“Osc, I’m not a cannibal, I don’t actually eat humans,” you tease, not giving up on what you started. Oscar clearly had a different interpretation, maybe the right one, maybe not.

“Shut up before I make you shut up,” Oscar growls in your ear, quickly turning you on and making you drop the joke.

“Yes, Mister Piastri,” you say, knowing it’s affect on him as he drags you into his room, locking the door behind him. Oscar was a couple minutes late to his meeting, Lando holding back giggles as Oscar walks into the room.

“I see the fans aren’t the only ones who love Y/n,” Lando whispers to Oscar, who shoots him a glare. Meanwhile, you scroll Instagram using your fan page, laughing as some of them post the pic of you and the sign, the comments calling on your to reveal yourself via the fan page. You make a post about it as well just to blend in, thirsting over Oscar as well. You can’t imagine if he ever finds out about the account.

“Good luck, Osc. Drive safe,” you kiss him before he puts his helmet on.

“I am always safe,” he gives you his usual awkward smile, you smile back as he puts his helmet on. He squeezes your hand before walking over to the car. You take a seat in the garage, the headphones unflattering as always.

Your stomach drops as there is a crash late in the race, but you are instantly relieved when you realize that Oscar made in through and no one was hurt. He ends up in P2 for the race and you join the team in celebrating at the podium.

“Thank you for being my number one fan, even when you run a secret fan account,” Oscar hugs you in his drivers room.

“How? What?” you play if off but he just laughs, pulling out his phone.

“My private account follows you,” oscar laughs, and you just stare at him.

“That’s actually you? I thought it was a fan,” you quickly pull out your phone and request to follow his account, which he immediately accepts so that you can see all the cute posts he makes about you.

“Stop, Osc, you’re basically running a fan account for me,” you say, admiring his posts, including one from today of you holding the sign. You quickly type a comment that has the other drivers replying like crazy claiming that they found your secret account.

“You two decent?” Mark Weber’s voice says through the door, after a confirmation from Oscar, he lets himself in.

“Why wouldn’t we be decent, Mark?” you ask from the couch.

“I used to be a driver too, and after your fan zone sign nothing is off the table,” Mark shrugs causing you and Oscar to blush. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you great race, I will see you in a few days,” Mark tells Oscar before leaving the room again. You still aren’t sure how Oscar was able to bag the former F1 driver as his manager. Oscar yawns and you notice how tired he is, sleepy Oscar is your favorite version of Oscar.

“Alright, let’s get you back to the hotel, first loser,” you tease, helping him gather his things to leave.

“Hey,” he groans at the jab.

“You could be Lando NoWins, my love,” turning your jests onto his teammate.

“That is true,” Oscar yawns, holding your hand as he leads you to his chauffeured car.

“Osc, would you marry me if I was a worm?”

“Who said I’d marry you at all?”

“Alright, that’s it, I’m deleting your fan page,” you pull out your phone. Oscar basically tackles you in the back seat as he lunges for the phone.

“I take it back, I’ll marry you right now if you want,” Oscar pleads.

“Who said I wanted to marry you? Do I look like a worm?” you retort, putting your phone away. Oscar just sighs in defeat.

“God gives is strongest people his greatest challenges, I’m not strong enough for this,” he groans a few seconds later, the tiredness setting in.

“Sorry, baby, I promise you will get unlimited cuddles when we get back to the room,” you smile softly, holding his hand tight.

“I love you,” he whispers, his beautiful brown eyes gazing into your eyes.

“I love you too.”

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Paring Joel Miller x Reader  

Summary The tenderness and nerves of spending the night at Joel’s for the first time, and the sweet moments that follow in the morning light [1.2k]

A/N This is a snippet into the lives of Joel and reader from the moments in between. Reading that fic is not a necessity because you’ll get the vibes either way. But fun news—right after this fic is posted, they will be receiving their own masterlist where I will post more glimpses into their lives in Jackson!

When yellowed lamplight no longer fills Joel’s room, there’s a brief period of rustling as the two of you settle beneath striped linen sheets in the dark. His bed is small enough that you can feel each other’s proximity, but spacious enough that you don’t have to touch. But you want to. It was your first time spending the night, and enjoying his company in the hours prior had awakened a selfishness you’d never known.

Maybe it was because he gave to you so freely nowadays. His presence, his thoughts, those smiles he no longer fought so hard to hide. It was hardly your fault that all you wanted to do was take, and take, and take. His supply never seemed to dwindle when it came to you. 

As a stillness settles, you extend a hand his way that no sooner meets the softness of his bare stomach. Caught off guard, Joel briefly sucks it in before relaxing again. He’d peeled off his shirt before climbing into bed, claiming to run hot during the night. Your touch is just light enough to tickle as your fingers drift upwards, catching the dusting of hair splayed across his chest. 

Swallowing, Joel takes hold of your hand and brings it to his lips to kiss, his facial hair scratching gently against your skin. 

“Sorry,” you murmur, worried it was his way of asking you to stop. 

“You’re okay, sweetheart.” He sounds gruff. “Just trying not to lose my mind.” He huffs out an amused sound that’s a little breathless. 

There’s a flutter in your chest as you laugh a little. “Just wanted to feel you.”

Joel guides your palm to rest over his heart. “You feel that?”

It beats steadily, elevated just so. You’re glad it’s too dark for him to see the smile that pulls across your face. He scoots closer, his own hand reaching down to grace the skin of your thigh just beneath the hem of your shorts. There’s always a sureness to his touch. Everything Joel does carries a sense of intentionality. From picking up the cool steel of a rifle to caressing the delicateness of your skin. 

As his fingers continue their gentle passes, it’s more dizzying than you’d expected, and you understand what he meant about losing his mind. Leaning in, he presses a kiss to the bridge of your nose, then your forehead, letting his lips linger as if to leave their invisible mark. An overwhelming sense of comfort melts down your body as he pulls away, so thick and heavy that you exhale and let your eyes slip closed. 

•••

The press of your lips is so soft that Joel almost doesn’t feel them. Almost thinks it’s something sweet he’s dreaming up, especially now that he doesn't have nightmares anymore. His eyes open in an eventual flutter, blinking slowly until it becomes clear that you’re really laying by his side. Your lips peppering pert kisses over his freckled shoulder. Being seen in the morning light makes you pull away as if you’d been caught doing something wrong. Joel just continues blinking at you with the softest look in his dark eyes. Like he’d let you get away with anything forever. 

You study him, the way his cheek looks pressed into the pillow, how his hair looks fluffier and disheveled from a good night’s rest. Both his hands are tucked beneath his pillow as he lays on his stomach. The nervous air of excitement that clouded the room last night has lifted, leaving behind a quiet sense of ease. It’s in the steadiness of your breathing, the quiet acknowledgement of the other that doesn’t need the help of words. 

When you shift, a golden ray of sunlight hits Joel’s eyes, making it clear that it’s later in the morning and that you hadn’t shut the curtains all the way. His eyes appear as more of a caramel brown as he squints with a small disgruntled sound. You settle back into your original position with an apologetic smile. 

No matter how much he tried, Joel still couldn’t grasp the luck that brought you to him. It sprung up out of nowhere at a time he least expected. A time when he’d grown to accept the possibility that the rest of his life would largely revolve around Ellie and being whoever she needed him to be. He’d already let too many people slip from between his fingers to welcome another. 

Back in Spring when they arrived in Jackson, and Tommy introduced you two at the Tipsy Bison, he was terrified because he’d never met someone as kind and intriguing as you. Not before the world fell and certainly not afterward. He convinced himself that if he never opened up or let you in, it would at least mean getting to experience you in bits and pieces. This was before he realized how torturous it was to keep restricting and denying himself. 

When the sound of Ellie’s footsteps arises from downstairs, Joel stretches his legs with a groan. “Kid’s got us beat this morning,” he says. The two of you are usually the early risers.

“Mmmm,” you hum, more interested in the rasp of his low drawl. “And what else?” Joel chuckles as you comb a loving hand through his hair. 

He gets a shy look about him, but indulges you. “Means we gotta get up,” he says. “Breakfast’s started at the pavilion by now.” 

Scooting closer, you hook a leg over his. There’s something about the warmth of him, the musky scent of his skin that makes your eyes close all over again as you inhale. Joel just lays there and lets you. Breakfast could wait a little while longer. 

Later, there’s a weight to your gaze as he stands at the sink brushing his teeth. You don’t mean for him to feel it, but he does, peeking back at you from over his broad shoulders. Freckles and moles alike are dotted across his back, but it’s the scars that evoke that deeper sense of wonder.

As he finishes up, there’s something so painfully intimate about watching the way he wipes his mouth with a towel and begins running his hands through his hair to fix it. Your window of opportunity comes as his arms are lifted, and he doesn’t complain as you hug him from behind. 

“She lives,” he lightly teases, hands coming to rest over yours. In the mirror, he can hardly see you from around his strong frame. 

“You left me cold and alone,” you accuse in a murmur against his skin. He shivers when you deliver a punishing nip along his spine and follow it up with a few lazy kisses. 

“I know. That was real awful of me.” 

You tuck your nose into his warmth, murmuring, “Unforgivable." Then you’re quiet for a moment, enjoying the feel of him. “Maybe a kiss could change my mind.” 

Joel can’t help a fond chuckle as he turns around in your arms.

-

Thanks for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think. 

From Here On Out Masterlist

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[dropsnectar]

Fawning Rose: Vine Monster x GN!Reader

The Adventures of an Elven Herbalist Part One

NSFW or NSFT

This is my first time writing anything in 6 years so keep that in mind. Also my first smut fic. Or monster fic. I literally learned about the sexual parts of plants for this fic. Don't know how I got here but this was fun! btw if you don't like oviposition, I marked the parts with three !!! before and after that scene, so you can skip it if you want.

WORD COUNT: 3167, or 7 pages on Docs

It had been a long journey from your home country, having to cross an entire sea to get to the sleepy elven town of Hairevick. An Herbalist, you could craft pills to treat a human flu, create a poultice for a dwarves sore, work-tired limbs; even brew potions to help a beastmen ease out of a mating season-- but it was still lonely. Their were no elves about, except for the rogue eccentric nomad. 

Feeling as you had fully mastered your craft in that area, and curious about your kind, you set forth in hopes of bettering yourself. However, when introducing yourself to your neighbors, you found everyone to be polite, but detached. As far as elves went, you were quite young, and the people of Hairevick were elder and not so trusting of outsiders. But worse of all, everyone here seemed to have an excellent knowledge of the local flora and fauna, and their uses in maintaining health. There was no need for an herbalist, especially one so unfamiliar with their lands. 

You spent the entire week mourning your state over glasses and pints of botanical alcohol-- The local tavern drinks were amazing!-- until you finally met a sympathetic face. 

He had long silver hair and the wisp of a ginger beard around his sharp jaw; a peculiar trait. He greeted you friendly enough, asking how you were settling in. It turned out that he owned a store in town, selling odds and ends. He even had a little apothecary in the corner, where those who couldn’t be bothered to make a forest run would buy herbs and tinctures. 

Starved for companionship, you bombarded him with questions about clients, and local herbalism. He was jovial, and after quite a few dregs of honey yarrow grog, offered you a book on the local flora. After some midnight bonding over stories of patients, he gave you a proposition. 

He was having some issues procuring some materials from a special plant, a Fawning Rose. It had incredible healing properties, but a bad habit of uprooting itself and fleeing from anyone who wasn’t a youth. If you could lure it out and bring back anything, be it petals, roots, greens, he would pay you handsomely. Maybe even give you some lessons on how to work with local plant life.

It was for this reason that you found yourself two days into a trip to the heart of the Haire Wilds bordering town. It was not going well. 

***

The cool air caressed your skin as you entered the grove. You had caught a peculiar sweet smell, somehow floral and buttery at the same time, and had followed it with hope filling your heart. The scent had gotten so thick you could taste it, strong as a tea on your tongue. Blue wildflowers covered the ground, interrupted by the common tree route or vine. 

Your eyes followed the vines or small roots, colored a sage with a speckled gradient to midnight blue. They traveled up into the middle of the grove. Sunlight, so rare this far into the Wilds, fell down in large delicious specks from the trees. They refracted off a large flower, almost two yards in width. Its petals were raspberry pink, turning blood red in the middle. Vines from its base led upwards and rested on the low boughs of the nearest trees, framing the flower and its various young buds like some sort of ethereal art study. 

You grew excited, feet tripping over roots as you ran forward, losing a shoe. You lost balance again and landed face first into the crook of a particularly large vine and hit your head. Hard. 

Hot pain crashed through you, making you curse as you steadied yourself. You tried to get up but the heat struck your temple like lightning as you moved upwards. Alright. Best to stay down then. 

As you waited, you were able to see past the stars in your eyes and notice a slight powdery substance on the vines. It, too, was pink. 

Maybe it was the thrill of finally finding the damn thing, or the head injury, but you felt different. You could hear your heart pumping hard in your chest, pleasantly tight. Your breath was ragged, the air pushing a hard, chilling heat through you. 

Like a particularly good run, your mind registered. A high. 

Your limbs started to tingle at the tips.

The rose’s perfume felt more like a mist now. You were only a few feet away from the base flower, and the scent had turned heady. Your hunger from a missed meal seemed to be surfacing, goaded on by the delectable smell the plant was giving off. While the pain eased and the stars disappeared from your eyes, you noticed that the lightheaded fuzzy feeling stayed.

Uh oh. Not a concussion.

You had to work hard to bring the fear into your mind. There was very little anyone could do to help you out here. The best you could do was not move around too much, and hoped the Fawning Rose would cooperate.

Suddenly, you notice some movement from the roots under your palms. 

No no no not now! Please, I haven’t harvested you yet! You thought as you tried to scramble up. 

The roots moved upwards with you, shoving you onto your side. Sliding around your feet, one took your other shoe with it as it slithered about under you. Another seemed to upend itself and squeeze cooly between your toes. You jumped a bit, but your gaze and mind were slow.

Something thick gilded itself on your shoulder making you look up. Vines, three, four, five of them descended and started rubbing themselves against you like cats. The movement was kicking up clouds of the pink pollen, making you sneeze as you wiggled against the plants outer limbs.

A part of you was horrified, thinking that perhaps you had scared the thing off. After all, you had been warned that this type of rose was particularly skittish. But the plant did not seem to be gathering itself to run away, rather it was pulling you closer to itself, the dragging tearing at the underside of your clothes.

Try as you might, you couldn't seem to think. Foggy, fuzzy, your mind was like cotton. The tingling in your fingertips has spread through your body, and an embarrassed part of your brain noticed your lower body was starting to awaken too. A warmth was beginning to pool in your gut, slow and lazy. Tingly. Fuzzy, like your head.

The vines continue to rub against your body, tearing the rest of your clothes away until only skin remains. They were relentless, cool against your hot skin. Their outer layers were textured but still smooth; a foreign sensation but extremely exciting. It felt almost like something was licking you, the powder giving a wet feel as it spread itself all over. Liquid heat glazed the innermost parts of you, much to your embarrassment. 

Aphrodisiac. You finally registered. You started to curse out that damned store keeper. 

You’d been played. 

You were now at the base of the flower, with even more roots and vines cradling and moving over your body. You were… pushed? Pulled? A foot into the air, close enough so that some of the smaller buds were leaning over you, as if they were getting a good look at you. You felt a knowing, a presence from this plant now. It really was looking at you.

Some desperate part of your mind, far far back in your mind, tries to set off danger bells. That you needed to get up and run.

Ooze started to secrete from the smaller buds, and the already overpowering scent of floral butteriness seemed to multiply. It dripped out onto your belly, warm and tingling, then your chest, your inner thigh, even a bit on your cheek.

The syrup dribbled down into the planes of your mouth as you wriggled under the vines. A particularly mischievous one pushes through the plush cheeks of your ass and moves up, poking at your entrance, causing you to gasp. 

The liquid touches your tongue. It tastes just as it smells, deliriously delicious. Sweet. Hot. It was divine compared to the little rations you’ve been eating the last few days. Like youd been starving and had sudden.ly been given free reign of a pastry shoppe. But no pastry could top this silky butteriness

What little heat that had kindled inside you was now a roaring flame, putting your past arousal to shame. You groan, and pull your head up, sticking your tongue out for more. A part of you is screaming to stop and run, but it is a stupid part that is buried instantly under your sudden overwhelming need. You are desperately horny, and you deserve to feel good after all the trouble you've been through lately.  

Still sticking out your tongue, you start to moan even louder as the vine messages your entrance with its thick girth. At the same time, one of the buds above your face seems to notice your desperation, and leans down to your lips.You lick at its plush petals and sweet sweet nectar seeps into your mouth. It tastes much like a floral pastry and you suck greedily as it pushes itself deeper in. 

The petals are so soft, yet still firm in your mouth as a river of nectar floods your throat. You giggled around it as it started to take its full effect. You felt light as air, so good. 

The vines had moved over to allow a bud to circle itself around your most sensitive part. You gasped out as it started to suck you, making stars flood your already glistening eyes. Your wet lashes fluttered as it began to suck wave after wave of pleasure out of your body.You had never felt so good, you noted somewhere in your sex drunk mind.  The whole time, the bud leaked nectar, completely soaking all parts of your groin.

The nectar left your skin feeling sensitive,  and completely soaked. This seemed to please the vines, which continued to massage the oil about you, then finally push in. You cried out at the sensation. Drool started to pool out of your mouth, mixing with the nectar.

 The vines rubbed lazy curving lines around your walls, making your hips jerk and shake. They seemed to know what they were doing as they started out slow for a time, then sped up their pace, thrashing about inside you. You clench around them, overwhelmed by the unyielding sensation. The pooling heat in you was building high, and you could tell the walls were about to break.

A rogue, mischievous bud had decided to examine your hole, tracing around your entrance in lazy circles. The petals were so soft, softer than skin. The texture made you feel desperate. As if to read your mind, the bud stopped. It must have been blooming because you felt little feelers, probably stamans, tracing about your genitals, wet with its lovely, delicious pollen.

 You swore and whined and pleaded for more as the vines fucked you through it, voice garbled by nectar. Another, thicker vine veined in indigo added itself to its companions and you finally came. The rush was like being tossed in the ocean, a shock that completely enveloped your entire body in cold, pulsing ecstasy. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, your juices spilled down on the forest floor below. 

The echoes of the waves of pleasure were still rocking through you when the vines surrounded your body started to move you upwards again. The vines were slow and delicate as they handled you, as if you were precious cargo. You were brought upwards, almost as if they were about to set you on your feet. Your neck was out, as you were still suckling the addicting flower liquid. 

You noticed through your long damp hair that you were positioned just over the center of the Fawning Roses main flower. A drop of nectar slipped out from inside you and dribbled down and onto the flower's green pistil. The stigma was thick, with four fat lumps at the top. The stamen surrounding it swayed, almost as if there was a breeze. Their magenta anthers rained down more pollen, causing a beautiful gradient against the deep red at the middle of the large petals. It was a truly breathtaking sight. 

A single vine wiggled towards your face and pushed back your hair. You found the gesture almost sweet, leaning into its touch. You remained like that for a time, before the vines started to lower you on to the stigma. 

No no no, you tried to whisper, some understanding dawning; but the bud was being aggressive with its feeding, pushing further in your mouth. It had a job, and its job was to make you so desperately horny and stupid, you’d let this flower breed you. 

The stigma was a hard fit at first. Its lumpy texture felt so good rubbing against you, you couldn’t help but hump back into it. The vines around you squeezing your skin, tilting your hips this way in that, trying to make the fit. The surrounding stamen started to rub their anthers against you, two started focusing on your nipples. You continued to hump the stigma, smearing the nectars from your groin all over it. Then, finally, finally, You were able to squeeze it in. 

The vines had taken over the humping for you now, pushing you down harder and harder onto the pistil. The lumps dragged against your walls in such a beautiful way, that you screamed out babbling whines. Your skin was covered in nectar and bright pink pollen. Every part of you was being squeezed, rubbed, oozed upon with tingling liquid, that you weren’t even sure you had a body anymore, just pleasure. After you came for the fourth time, you started to feel a pulsing within the pistil.  It was like the thing seemed to grow within you.

! ! !

Ridges started to squeeze against your entrance, rubbing against your walls. They moved up, up, up, into the deepest parts of you. There was a sudden burst of warmth, then something small and squishy. You marveled at the texture, as the flower continued to lower you down on the pistil, now at a slower pace, in smaller movements. You ached so badly, but the new sensation of the objects and warmth inside you made you wanna keen louder. They felt sort of like eggs.

Seedpods. You registered lazily. You were being turned into a seedbed. 

This realization only seemed to turn you on even more. They felt so good, rolling about inside your walls. The warmth they brought rivaled the cool temperature of the pistil, a delightful duality. 

You moaned with every bulge, push, then pop of warmth and heaviness. It was getting to the point now where the vines were pulling you up off the pistil to make more room for the seeds. 

! ! !

You were cumming so much now you lost count. It was getting to the point that you were just continuously orgasming, as the seeds and the pistil dragged against your most sensitive parts. 

You may have been like that for hours, days even, the nectar kept you so dizzy you couldn’t tell time. But at some point you were so full that the pistil seemed satisfied. The wriggling stamen around you stilled, and the vines carefully lifted you off the pistil, giving one last drag within your walls.

The bloom inside your mouth slowly dragged itself out, making you whine in protest. The vines carefully laid you down at the foot of their roots, arranging your body in a comfortable position. The vines slowly retreated from your body. They lazily moved about, sometimes knocking into each other in a way that was almost comical. Their movements seemed lazy, almost like it too was spent. 

As the last vine left your skin, it caressed your cheek. Within you some affection of your own seemed to bloom. The haze that was in your mind was starting to dull, and replaced itself with the need to rest. Your heavy eyes closed and you gave into sleep.

***

You awoke without opening your eyes. You could feel that the curving mound of roots you’d been sleeping on had been replaced with fluffy grass and soil. The smell of freshly tilled earth flooded your nose, and you jolted upright, eyes wide.

The grove was quiet, and empty of the Fawning Rose. All that was left behind was you, the upturned soil it had left behind, and light dusting of pink pollen on the trees. Even the sweet pastry-like smell had left the grove.

You looked down at your naked, sore body and groaned. You could see a trail of bruises from where the vines had gripped you, along with dried out nectar and tons of pink pollen. Your stomach puffed out a bit more than normal, meaning all of this had NOT been a dream. Much to your surprise, nothing hurt though. Your body felt great, healthily spent like you had just run a marathon. Considering how hard you had been working there should have been some pain, but there wasn’t. Just the pleasant pressure of the seedpods against your insides.You recall the conversation with the shop owner at the tavern. Looks like this is the flower's healing abilities at work.

You continued to search around the grove. Your clothes were still in shreds on the forest floor, but your bag was safely tucked under one of the trees the flower had rested its vines in. With some effort, you managed to get yourself off the ground to pick it up, waddling the whole way. 

The pollen was still working its magic on you, but you guessed you had been exposed to it long enough to build a slight tolerance. Or maybe the growing rage within you was doing the trick. You pulled out one of the many glass bottles, and a silver knife. You went to work, scraping the dried nectar and pollen off your body, into the jars.

I’m gonna charge that asshole so much money, his kids will be poor. You seethed as you spent hours getting your money's worth off of every plane of your body. You’d have to birth those seed pods later too. Your insides grew warm at the thought. 

You tried not to think about how you were going to have to walk home naked, where you’d been and what you’d been doing laid bare upon your skin. It’d be free advertising tho, you tried to reason. 

You'd make a killing. Aphrodisiacs were rare, and extremely expensive, especially to a crowd of immortals. I think I'll sell these seed pods on my own though. You smiled. 

You’d make sure to be properly prepared the next time you went into the wilds.

Might do a part two, maybe with slimes next time? Also sorry about any switching of tenses, I have a hard time with that! Hope you guys enjoyed!

[wttcsms]

diesel is desire (we were playing with fire) ; sebastian sallow

pairing sebastian sallow x f!reader word count 4k synopsis sebastian sallow is a good friend. so good, in fact, that when you find yourself under the ungodly influence of a lust potion, he's willing to help give you some relief. content contains seventh year au, dubcon (under the influence of lust potion), darker take on seb's character lol <3, breeding kink, creampie, possessive!sebastian, possessive sex, virginity loss, babytrapping

“Why did you go out of your way to avoid me?” 

An accusatory voice momentarily breaks you free from the overwhelming feelings you were struggling to deal with, but the voice is too familiar.

The source? Sebastian Sallow — a very disappointed Sebastian Sallow, which after two years of friendship (and the lingering what-if of becoming something more), you’re able to identify as a Sebastian that you would much rather not be dealing with. Particularly because, try as hard as he might, he’s rather prone to saying harsh things and treating you unkindly whenever he gets into one of his moods. The hurt expression on his face is barely concealed by the scowl that mars his otherwise handsome features. 

Don’t think about how handsome he is!

Instead of replying to him, you’re quick to turn your head to the side, trying to focus on the curtain that separates your cot from the others in the infirmary. It’ll do no good to engage with Sebastian right now — not whenever the reason you’ve been compelled to check yourself in to the school nurse is purely because you’re not sure if you have enough self-control to stop yourself from literally ripping his robes off of him.

But it’s not like you can tell him all that. Lying would be preferable, if only Sebastian wasn’t so attuned to you and every single one of your tells. If you attempted lying to him, who knows what more damage you would cause? Then again, blatantly ignoring him also seems equally dangerous, especially with how quick to irritate he’s been lately. Ever since you witnessed him literally murdering his uncle, the relationship between the two of you has grown stronger — being practically partners in crime will do that to a friendship — but also more… volatile. The charming fifth-year you met on your first day of school still remains, but you have long since realized that there’s more to him than meets the eye.

On the surface, he’s nothing but affable. Maybe a bit of a rebellious streak, but it’s all in good nature. In the beginning, it was fun being with him. Exciting, even. Then you started following him on the dark path he paved all by himself, and before you could realize that you were in too deep, it had already been too late to turn around. Now, the seventh-year boy standing by your cot seems so different from the one who lives on only in your memories.

“Don’t ignore me.” He means to make the words come out sharp, irritated. It resembles more of a plea than anything, and you shut your eyes, willing him to leave. It must be all in your head, but you swear you can smell the familiar scent of him: cool mint mixed with the light musk of whatever cologne he’s been favoring since the fifth year. 

“Sebastian, I’m not feeling very well.” You mumble, hoping it’ll be enough to get him to leave you alone. It’s not a lie. You aren’t feeling great whatsoever. Not even the nurse, bless her heart, can figure out what’s become of you. She gave you a pitying look and an almost amused smile as she explained that — in her words — sexual urges are very normal for girls your age. 

If your body wasn’t already overheating, you’re certain your cheeks would have instantly turned hot from sheer embarrassment. 

“Well, why wouldn’t you tell me that instead of abandoning me the whole entire day?” Sebastian is many things with different people. With you, he is both guarded and vulnerable. Some days, when you’re not feeling your best, his emotions versus his actions can give you whiplash. He has the audacity to say something like that all the while, he sounds absolutely tortured over the fact that he had to go eight hours without your presence. 

As if realizing the harshness of his attitude, he softens his tone as he asks, “Are you feeling any better?”

You had gone to the Great Hall before him because you needed to review your History of Magic notes before the test today. All you had was a bit of pumpkin juice and toast, and all had been well until you started feeling warm underneath your robes and sweater. As the heat began to travel through your body, you found it hard to concentrate on your notes. Not because of the heat, but because of the many thoughts swirling around in your head. Flashes of Sebastian that started innocently enough and quickly morphed into daydreams of him without his uniform. Sebastian with his hair messed up from the way your fingers tugged at the strands as he satiated his thirst with the juices flooding between your legs. Sebastian who would prioritize your pleasure over his and could make you cum multiple times before even thinking about getting his dick wet. Sebastian—

—who you share most of your classes with! 

You knew right then and there that something had to be wrong with you. Sure, you’ve thought about him sometimes, but never to that degree. And certainly never at seven in the morning over breakfast and history notes. 

That’s how you ended up lying in a cot in the infirmary, trying your hardest to ignore the intrusive thoughts of Sebastian fucking you ‘til you can’t walk anymore. 

“No.” You practically moan out the word, and you’re hoping to play it off as just you being a baby about being “sick”. 

You don’t expect him to turn your head so that you’re staring up at the ceiling, and you certainly don’t expect him to press the back of his hand against your forehead. His hands are cold, but surprisingly enough, it brings you some sort of relief from the fever that has seemingly overtaken your body. You bite back another moan. 

“You’re burning up.” Gone is his attitude. Instead, it’s been replaced by your favorite Sebastian — the kind, caring one. The one that resembles the boy you first met. Sometimes, his care can be suffocating, but when you find yourself craving nothing but him and his touch, you don’t mind his invasion of your personal space at all. “Are there any other side effects? Does your throat hurt? Stomach? Tell me what’s the matter.” 

You know how Sebastian must feel when it comes to people he cares about falling ill. His sister has only made him more paranoid about the severity of sickness and curses, and the concern and fear etched upon his face makes your hardened resolve of keeping the sordid details of your affliction to yourself melt away.

“Don’t laugh…” You warn him, but your voice seems so small and maybe even a little scared that his expression turns even more serious.

“Never.”

“I think… I think something happened to me. A charm…” You’re careful to dance around the word curse, lest Sebastian accidentally blows up the whole entire infirmary due to his emotional state. “I just feel very hot. And, um, I think the only relief would be to—”

You can’t even say it. You can barely even explain it since you don’t really know what’s happening either. 

“I’mfeelingverysexuallyfrustratedandIhavenomeansofrelief!” 

The two of you know that you’re never going to repeat that phrase ever again, and you’re practically near tears after that little confession. 

“Oh.” He says, as if this is nothing more than a simple, casual conversation and not the most humiliating situation ever. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

“Be-because it’s embarrassing!” Has he really no shame? Who would willingly admit that out loud? 

“You know, I’ve heard rumors of some sixth-years trying to pull pranks by spiking the juices with love potions. Just really gimmicky concoctions, truly. Nothing too severe. Hmm… You must have a sensitivity to it, though.” Sebastian’s musings do nothing to bring you reassurance. If anything, it just makes you want to hide. If the universe is truly kind, a sinkhole will emerge from nowhere and swallow you whole. Yes, that sounds lovely right now. 

Instead, the universe is sick, because what else could explain Sebastian telling you, 

“If it’s relief you need, I’d be happy to help.” 

Sebastian is many things to you — a dear friend, a confidant, a literal partner in crime — but none of those things involve him having sex with you, even if the offer only came from some odd sense of duty. 

And that’s what this is, isn’t it? He probably feels indebted to you since the fifth-year. Maybe even anxious, too. You could expose him at any given moment, and maybe that’s why he’s been so keen on attaching himself to your side ever since. This is a humiliating predicament to be in, and Sebastian doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell — considering that you don’t even know the names of girls he’s been with before is evidence. 

Besides, you’re only feeling incredibly needy for one person. You can accept his offer, but you’re certainly not going to let him know the truth: that only he is the one who can help you. 

“Don’t be embarrassed.” His cool hand is now cupping your face, thumb brushing against your cheekbone in an almost gentle manner. Sweet Sebastian is making an appearance, perhaps to try to put you at ease. You like this Sebastian. “Just let me take care of you.” 

When the haze of lust clears from your sex-addled mind, the rush of consequences will burden and crush your very conscience. 

Fortunatenly enough, consequences are clearly the last thing on your mind.

It would appear that the only thing you can truly focus on is Sebastian and what his idea of ‘taking care of you’ is. 

The Sebastian staring greedily at you is an unfamiliar Sebastian. You’ve become accustomed to the many variations of himself: Angry Sebastian, who says the most vile things out of spite and usually misguided anger; Remorseful Sebastian, who is quick to grovel (he’s quite good at groveling, really) and wants nothing more than to be back in your good graces; Happy Sebastian, although there are variations upon this very variation — the trick to seeing whether he’s pseudo-happy or not is all in his smile (the fake one is eerily perfect, the real one is crooked and a rarity). This Sebastian, though…

Hungry. 

The word doesn’t quite explain the dark glint in his eyes or the way his hands are almost reverently stroking your body. Your skin felt so, so hot just a few minutes ago — then again, just a few minutes ago, you still had your school jumper and blouse neatly intact. Now, you’re laid practically bare, prey to Sebastian’s more-than predatory gaze. 

If the two of you weren’t such great friends, you might have had enough sense to be scared.

The only articles of clothing left to protect your dignity and shield you from his eyes are your skirt (which is already riding up to expose your thighs due to his wandering hands), your white cotton panties, and the matching bra. 

“How do you feel now?” He asks, and you want to tell him you’re still feeling embarrassed, but his hands feel surprisingly nice on your skin, and you can’t help but hunger for more. Perhaps the look in his eyes, the one you couldn’t quite find a proper name for, is the same look you’re giving him. 

“More.” You whimper out, not caring if you sound selfish or impatient. This is awful. The two of you should put a stop to… To whatever the hell this is! This is a horribly unbecoming, unsavory situation you are in, and if things progress like how you think they are going to (how you want them to), then you’re both dead once all the adults find out. Professor Weasley would probably force the two of you to be wedded within the next day of her finding out, not to mention that the headmaster would probably have the both of your heads on sticks.

But you don’t tell him to stop because your rational thought is slipping, much like your bra. You’re viewing everything almost as if in a trance, almost as if this is happening to someone else and not you. But it is very much you; it’s your nipples hardening after being exposed to the cool air of the infirmary. It’s your bra that Sebastian tosses to the side. He’s licking his lips, eyeing the expanse of skin that has been revealed to him. In ordinary circumstances, you’re certain you would make all attempts to cover yourself up and try to regain some sense of modesty.

In these circumstances, you practically arch your back and mewl out for more, more, more.

More touching. More skin-to-skin contact. More of Sebastian. You want him. All of him. Every part of him. You want his cock ramming into your cunt, you want his hands wrapped around your throat, his mouth spewing out words of filth right into your ear. Most importantly, even though all you can seemingly focus on is having him ravish you, you can’t help but to be greedy and dare to hunger for more. You want his secrets — all of them. You want to know the nightmares that plague him, and whether he’s full of regrets, just like you. You want to have a claim to his soul, just like how he already has a claim to yours. You want to know that when his heart beats, it is calling out for you. 

“I’m going to kiss you now.” He announces, like he’s waiting for you to protest. He’s not directly asking, but the question is still there, as is the warning. Can I kiss you? If you let me, there’s no going back. 

“Please.” You whimper, completely and entirely at his mercy.

“Say it.” Sebastian swallows hard, almost as if he’s also nervous and too charged up with desire. His fingers are loosening his tie. He has already shrugged off his robes. 

He doesn’t tell you want to say, but you already know what he wants to hear. The words have been resting on the tip of your tongue this whole entire time, anyway. 

“I want you to— to kiss me, and more…” You look into his eyes. The lights in the infirmary make them appear a lighter color than usual. “I want more. I want you, Sebastian.”

The moment the last confession slips from your soft lips, Sebastian’s mouth descends upon your own. His body is angled awkwardly, trying not to crush you with his weight, but you can feel the heat emanating from him all the same, even despite the layers of his clothing that separates the two of you. 

You think the world stops spinning when his lips slot against yours. He tastes like the pumpkin juice from this morning, sweet and refreshing. There’s a lingering taste of spearmint toothpaste. You want to keep kissing him forever. You want him to kiss you everywhere else. When breathing becomes a necessary thing, he stops. You frown. You didn’t want him to stop. Oxygen is overrated, anyway. 

He lays a hand against the pillow you’re resting on, staring down at you, want clearly displayed on his visage; desire is etched onto every facial feature, and his eyes are gazing so intently into yours, you wonder if he’s a Legilimens. 

“Promise me you won’t regret this. Swear that you truly do want this.” 

He must not be a Legilimens, then. It’s so clear you’ve been in… It feels odd to admit it. Wrong, even. But it’s the truth—

—you’ve been in love with him since the fifth year.

You don’t keep someone’s secrets, their crimes, to yourself when you don’t love them. You let him perform Cruciatus on you, and you forgave him. No — you didn’t. Because you asked him to. There was nothing to forgive. You would endure it, over and over and over again, just for him, only him. And to think, you’re flooding your panties just at some simple fantasies of him, and he has the nerve to believe you don’t want this? Don’t want him?

“I promise. I swear it to you. I want this entirely.” And maybe liquid courage had been slipped into the juice you’ve consumed as well because you find yourself admitting, “I’ve always wanted to do this with you. If it… If it had to be done the first time around, I would always dream of you doing it to me.” 

He stops breathing, just for a moment. Gapes at you, even. 

“Y-you’re a virgin?” 

You wonder if you’ve gone off and ruined the mood. You wonder if you should take it back, say you were just joking, but before you can, his lips are pressing against yours once again. This kiss is even hungrier than the last, and you’re not quite sure how that’s even possible. It’s almost as if he wants to devour you whole. 

“Thank you.” He gasps out, so close to you that his breath tickles your nose. “Thank you for entrusting me with this, love. I promise I’ll make it good for you, just as you deserve.” 

And suddenly Sebastian is just everywhere. His sweater is discarded on the floor, right next to your bra and his tie. His belt is unclasped; he hasn’t even bothered to remove it entirely, just displaced it enough to where he can unbutton his trousers, and he’s pulling it down — his pants, that is. And the briefs. He hasn’t entirely disposed of everything, just partially. Meticulous Sebastian Sallow who is now so far gone into lust and depravity that he cannot even handle wasting another second by removing himself entirely of his clothes. You have made a man into a beast.

But you see the way he’s eyeing you — all dark hair and sharp teeth. He flips your skirt up, exposing your damp panties to him, and he licks his lips again, and you realize — perhaps too late, or perhaps you’ve known all this time — that Sebastian has always been a bit of a beast. A wolf only coyly imitating domesticity. 

“You’re so wet.” He brushes a finger against your cotton-covered folds, and you shiver. 

Yes! Your body seems to cry out. More, more, more! Your back arches, keening, craving his touch. You’re soaking through the fabric, making it practically translucent. You’ve never been this wet before in your life. You’ve never wanted his touch more badly than you do now. 

“For me.” He mutters, but in the silence of the infirmary, you hear him all too clearly. “Is this all for me, love? Have you been like this all day?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to form coherent sentences. Even if he’s not staring at your head, far too fixated at what’s between your legs, he hums his approval. 

“Don’t worry, my love. I’ll make it all better.” 

He’s kissing you. He’s got your panties only pulled to one side, and you think he’s muttering apologies against your saliva-coated lips. Something that sounds awfully like sorry, so sorry, but I can’t wait, and I don’t think you can, either. You barely catch a glimpse of his cock before you can feel the sharp heat of his length against your inner thigh. You would have thought that there would be some preparation, especially since this will be your first, but you’re thoroughly soaked. You’re aching for a sensation you have never felt before, but the animal inside of your brain is telling you, instinctually, to seek Sebastian out. That Sebastian will make it all better. That’s what he said he’ll do, and he’s kissing you, and he’s apologizing, and—

—and the world stops spinning.

No. There’s some slight resistance at first, your poor cunt protesting at the intrusion. A second later, and he’s slipping in half of his length with considerably more ease. A few inches more, and his hips are pressed against yours, and oh— Oh, it’s like you’re made for him. There is no resistance. There is no pain. There’s just you and him, and your body is welcoming him home. Where has he been? It seems to ask. Please don’t ever leave again. 

“Fuuuuck.” He hisses it out, and his teeth are gritted, and he’s admiring you. His eyes flicker to your face, down to your breasts, down down down right to where the two of you are connected. The word comes out broken, and yet, drawn out. As if he’s struggling to speak. 

Then he starts thrusting, and suddenly you realize that the world hasn’t ceased its spinning. No — now it’s moving entirely too fast. It must be off its axis. You feel otherworldly. You feel like this pleasure, this overwhelming, absolutely delicious pleasure, cannot simply exist on earth. It should be impossible. It should be impossible to find comfort and rapture in the way the tip of his cock seemingly kisses your cervix. You expect pain. 

You only find mindnumbing, earth shattering pleasure.

You feel stretched beyond your limits. You hear his pants and his groans, and you’re moaning, too. Calling out his name, which is so silly, he’s right there, he’s right there. There, at that special spot, at the spot you’ve never been able to discover on your own. You now know why adults advise so heavily against these type of relations — it’s simply addicting. You don’t think you can stop; you don’t think you want to stop.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so good f’me. Such a good girl. My good girl, aren’t you?” He’s rambling. His thrusts are considerably sloppier, and you feel his thumb brush against your clit, and you arch your back some more, practically screaming out his name. The stimulation is too much — it’s not enough — and you will always crave him. “Tell me. Tell me that you’re mine.”

There’s something so, so addicting about his possession. About being treated like his possession. 

“Yours. M’yours, Seb. All—” You can’t finish your sentence. The pleasure is becoming too much, and you’re too sensitive, and he’s doing this thing, this absolutely amazing thing, where he rubs circles on your clit in tandem with his harsh thrusts, and you’re cumming. You don’t ever want to come down. 

He feels you cum, sees your juices drench his cock as he pulls out, only to push right back in, relishing in the feeling of your contracting walls. He leans down, biting on your neck, and you take a hand to grip his dark hair, still cumming, and now he is, too. Spurts of his cum are flooding into you, painting your walls, successfully staking his unrivaled claim on you. You have been compromised. If anyone were to find the two of you out, you would have no other choice but to take his hand, his ring, his family name, him. You would have to take it all.

Coming down from his high, he has enough kindness left in him to lick at the wound he’s left on your neck. Your eyes are fluttering close, the intensity of it all thoroughly exhausting you. You don’t know the thoughts swirling in his mind. You don’t sense the longing behind him stroking your stomach, wondering if the Felix Felicis — his bottled Liquid Luck he’s spent forever brewing — has done its job. It would surely be very lucky, indeed, if his seed takes this first time around. 

Your breathing slows, and he feels your heartbeat even out. You’re exhausted, poor thing. Perhaps he had been too rough.

He’ll apologize, he decides, by doing something that’ll benefit the both of you. He ought to clean you up, get you tucked in, and when you wake, he’ll go down on you. He bets you taste so sweet, so innocent. He had known, of course, that he was your first — that he was always going to be your first. Your only. 

He wonders if the effects of the lust potion will still linger in your system even after you wake up. Probably so — he did it brew it quite strongly.

But the adoration, the love, in your eyes is something no amount of skilled potioneering can create. No; your feelings for him are real. You just needed to lower your inhibitions to get to the confessional stage.

And now that you have confessed… 

Sebastian Sallow can rest well after confirming what he’s known ever since he first laid eyes on you:

You’re his.

[blushweddinggowns]

Eddie threw an arm over Steve's shoulder, bringing him into a half-hug, “So, what did you guys think?”

“It was great!” Steve said quickly, relaxing into Eddie’s side, “You guys killed it, dude!”

“He’s right,” Robin agreed, “It was awesome! Super, duper fun and we’re so glad we got to see it. But actually, we kinda got to go-”

Eddie frowned, the loose grip he had over Steve’s shoulder tightening on it’s own accord, “Go where? Don’t tell me you guys are tired already?”

For some reason, Robin didn’t look at him after he asked the question. Instead she looked to Steve, a brow raised as she waited for something. But then Steve was giving her a subtle nod, her queue to start talking again. She leaned in closer, whispering as loud as she could in the noisy environment, “So… you’re like cool, right? Steve said you were cool.”

Eddie cocked his head at her, beyond confused, “I-yes? I guess?”

“About the thing?” She pressed, jerking her head his direction, “Steve’s thing?”

“Oh!” Eddie blurted, finally catching on. But he still didn’t get what Steve being gay had to do with them ditching. He nodded quickly, “Very cool with it. Have zero issues.”

It was almost true. Whatever issues Eddie had with Steve’s sexuality involved his own bullshit more than anything else. Plus, his answer had Robin smiling. Gesturing for Eddie to lean in closer, “Good. Because we, um. Share the affliction if you catch my drift.”

“That’s fine,” Eddie said, not missing a beat. He had kind of figured that out along the way. Considering the process of elimination on who could have possibly talked Steve through his queer thoughts. Not that Eddie cared, “No problem here.”

“Good!” She said with a grin, “Then you know just how limited our options are where we live. And according to an insanely pretty girl, there is an honest to god gay bar, like a few blocks away!”

Eddie swallowed, discomfort suddenly settling in at the suggestion, “T-That’s where you guys are going?”

“Yeah!” She said excitedly, setting her sights back onto Steve, “It’s time for someone to realize that we are hot enough to flirt and be flirted with! Closets don’t matter when you’re hours away from home.”

“We share the exact same closet,” Steve groaned, “Don’t start preaching to me.”

“And tonight we can escape from it!” Robin argued, “Come on! Eddie’s going to be busy with his friends and groupies anyway. What else are we doing-”

“I’m actually not that busy,” Eddie interrupted, trying his damndest to keep his voice calm. Suddenly, he felt nauseous again. He didn’t-He knew Steve could handle himself. He did. B-But creeps were everywhere! And he wasn’t used to being around guys who only wanted one thing and Robin would be distracted with girls a-and Eddie was really struggling with this idea.

Though Steve seemed to disagree. The next thing he knew, Steve was smiling back at her. Letting out a good-natured sigh, “Fine, fine! We can go. Someone has to make sure you don’t get kidnapped.”

“Oh my god, yes!” Robin nearly squealed, bouncing a little in her seat, “This is gonna be so fun!”

Eddie’s heart squeezed uncomfortably in his his chest at the excitement, dread starting to fill him. He opened his mouth, words escaping before he could even think of it, “Sounds like you two might need a D.D. I can do it.”

It was probably the first time Eddie had ever invited himself to something he clearly wasn’t a part of. But he had to give himself some credit for how smoothly it came out. 

Robin looked up at him, clearly surprised, “Really? It’s not exactly your scene.”

Eddie shrugged, “It could be. I like George Michael.”

Steve snorted next to him, “That is the one true gay litmus test. You got us there.”

“Seriously though,” Eddie pressed, refusing to let it go, “Then you can both drink, dance, have fun. And not worry about how you’re getting back to the hotel.”

“But don’t you want to stay here?” Steve asked, “Robin wasn’t kidding about the groupies. You should have heard what some of them were saying.”

“You could definitely get laid,” Robin added. She was staring at him now, looking at Eddie in a way that seemed a little past confused. Like she was examining him. Testing him. Or maybe that was just in his head. 

Eddie held firm, “Maybe, but I’d rather hang out with you two vs playing wingman to the boys. What do you say?”

“If you really don’t mind…” Steve said, trailing off. But Eddie could tell that he was happy. He could barely keep his smile to himself as he looked to the side, biting his lip in a way that Eddie fucking knew other people would notice. How could they not? 

from the next chapter of this fic

[milkloafy]

wait..... this is hella cute!!! <3<3<3<3<3<3<3 if ur free to do reqs could you do hsr boys summer headcanons? im not sure if theyre open so it's fine if u dont thx!!! 🩷🩷

SUMMER SUN; SUMMER FUN — AVENTURINE, DAN HENG, JING YUAN

⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: ty anon for the request!! :> yes they are open so request awayyy ! i love summer sm best season fr so this was such a fun vibe to write :3 i hope u enjoy! i wasn’t sure which hsr guys u wanted so i just picked my current favs AHDKSLDK 

𝜗𝜚 — AVENTURINE

aventurine would love going to the beach with you 

building sand castles, picking seashells, jumping over the shallow waves along the shore

it all feels fun and refreshing to him. something he did not have the luxury to feel when he was younger

at your encouragement, he signs the two of you up for surf lessons one day

aventurine is…not a natural 

you’re both falling off the boards and needing the instructor to come and fish you out of the waves

after a few too many close calls, aventurine decides he never wants to go surfing again 

when the sun sets and golden hour hits, you take one million photos of aventurine, at minimum 

he models and poses for you, enjoying your excitement whenever you get a good shot 

once you’d had your fill, aventurine sneaks a few photos of you as well

he shows you his favorite beach pic of you with a smile

“you’re prettier than the sunset” 

aventurine ends the day off by buying ice cream for the two of you as you head home <3 

𝜗𝜚 — DAN HENG

while dan heng likes the warmth, he is not a fan of the summer heat

he prefers staying indoors during the summer, at the library or in museum with minimal walking around outside during the day

however, he does like sitting underneath the shade of a tree and reading a book 

some days, he’ll set up a hammock between two trees and ask you to join him 

when the heat cools down and the darkness graces the earth, dan heng likes to walk around and go stargazing 

the temperature is perfect at night—not too hot but also not cold enough to need anything other than a long sleeve shirt or a light jacket

dan heng has read about all the constellations you can see in the summer 

he’s disappointed there’s too much light pollution in most places, but for the stars he can see, he points it out to you and explains the story behind it

what constellation it’s part of, what planet is next to it, is that a space vehicle or a cosmo? 

he would definitely go on one of those websites that sell you a star lmao and “buy” one for you

even though he’s aware it’s a scam, he know you’d find it cute. dan heng shows you the certificate of your new star ownership and the two of you look for the coordinates in the night sky together <3

“you deserve the universe, but for now i got you a star”

𝜗𝜚 — JING YUAN

jing yuan thinks going to an amusement park is the peak summertime activity 

doesn’t matter if you are sweating buckets waiting in the long lines surround by body heat. jing yuan comes prepared. he has a hat, a battery-powered fan with a built-in mist spray, and water bottles with ice 

of course, he shares all that with you once you get tired of using your foldable fan

jing yuan is an amusement park snack afficionado. a salty pretzel? yes. a sweet treat? yes. a whole ass turkey leg? also yes. 

you are never hungry during your outing since jing yuan has you covered 

when you want photos taken of you, you show jing yuan exactly how you want it—angle and zoom and everything

yet when he takes the photo, it comes out off

crooked. blurry. you’re half cut off…

the only good photo he took of you is one where you weren’t prepared and have a horrendously silly look on your face 

“jing yuan… delete that right now.” 

“why? i believe it is called a ‘candid’ by the young folks. very popular.” 

you may not have come out with good photos of yourself, but at least you and jing yuan had fun and will treasure these memories forever. no matter how bad the photo to capture it is. 

[theostrophywife]

heat wave.

pairing: azriel x reader x cassian.

request: Hi I don’t know if your requests are open but if so would u write something with reader x cassian x Azriel maybe smutty little bit ( I feel like cass would have a size kink and Az a corruption one anyway🤷🏻‍♀️😂)

author's note: size kink cassian 🤝 corruption kink azriel. i swear i haven't forgotten about the bat boys, i'm just deep in the slytherin boys brain rot rn.

Summer swept through the city of starlight with a sweltering heat wave. The blistering sun left you feeling hot, damp, and sticky as sweat dripped down your back. The only relief to be found was in the sugary sweet cone of strawberry ice cream that Azriel had brought back for you from his trip to the market square. The shadowsinger kissed your temple before sauntering into the training pit to come face-to-face with Cassian.

The Illyrian warlord raised an amused brow. "So that's why you were late." Cassian mused, sending you a conspiratorial wink from your place underneath the shade. "You spoil her, Az."

"You're just jealous he didn't buy you a cone too, Cassie."

Cassian grinned. "You're the only sweet treat worth indulging in, and I'll have my taste of you soon enough, pretty girl." The suggestive words made your body buzz with excitement. "Right after I kick Azriel's ass for making me wait."

The shadowsinger chuckled before disappearing in a dark blur. He reemerged seconds later with twin blades in his hands and a mischievous grin. "Show me what you've got, Cassie."

You leaned back in your lounge chair, enjoying the cool relief of the sweet treat. It would've been cooler inside the house, but nothing, not even the thick muggy air could stop you from watching the two males spar.

By nature, Azriel and Cassian were competitive males.

The Illyrian warriors were opposite sides of the same coin—Cassian with his boldness and passion and heat; Azriel with his mystery and brooding and seduction. You always thought of them as fire and ice. The best of both worlds.

While the competition between them was fierce — whether in fighting or drinking or fucking, you found that Azriel and Cassian worked best in tandem.

More specifically, when they worked you in tandem.

At first, you were skeptical about the dynamic, but the more the three of you explored, the more comfortable you became with one another. It didn’t hurt that you had Cassian and Azriel completely wrapped around your finger. They would do anything for their sweet, innocent little priestess. Though the thoughts running through your mind as you watched them train were far from virtuous. If anything, they were downright sinful.

Underneath the sweltering summer sun, Cassian and Azriel moved swiftly, shedding their leathers to reveal planes of smooth, hard muscles that flexed with each movement as they darted across the red sand. Mirroring the treat in your hand, you were reduced to a sticky pool of desire as you shamelessly ogled your two favorite males.

Azriel glanced at you, a knowing smile gracing his handsome face. “Better lick it up fast, angel. You wouldn’t want to make a mess.”

Strawberry ice cream dripped all over your fingers and while you did your best to lap up the melted liquid, the heat was working against you. Besides, you were too distracted by their glistening bodies, golden brown and sweat slicked and all too tempting. You licked your lips, indulging in the lingering sweetness of strawberries and cream and wishing it was the taste of a set of deliciously sinful abs instead.

“I think she’d rather lick something else up, Az.”

You flushed, suddenly feeling hot all over despite your refuge in the shade. Cassian was a shameless flirt, but it was all in good fun. Teasing was his favorite part of this little game of yours, but in the end he always gave in. At your core, the two of you were absolute hedonists. Both too impatient to deny each other gratification.

Azriel, on the other hand, wasn’t as self indulgent. The shadowsinger could hold out for hours. Make both you and Cassian really beg for it. This time, you decided to get ahead of the game.

You shot a sly glance at Cassian while the shadowsinger had his back turned, urging him to play along. The Illyrian warlord grinned like a devil and discretely nodded before pivoting so that Azriel was facing you.

With a saccharine smile, you licked long, deliberate stripes along the cone while holding the shadowsinger’s heated gaze. “I was wondering,” you pondered as you wrapped your lips around the scoop rather suggestively. “If it feels as good for males as it does for females.”

Azriel cocked his head, intrigued. shadows twisted through his dark wings. “If what feels as good, angel?”

“Pleasuring someone with your mouth.” The shadowsinger stilled. Behind him, Cassian’s mouth dropped open. “I’ve never done it before, but I’d like to try. Maybe you could teach me, Az.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched as he inhaled deeply. Hook, line, and sinker. “Then you and Cas could both confirm my theory.”

Moments later, you found yourself crammed into the shower between Cassian and Azriel. The Illyrian warlord spread out on the built in marble bench, water dripping down his shoulders as his unbound hair formed a dark curtain around his face. He looked like the god of war, all lean muscle and rugged beauty.

Warm, honey eyes tracked your movements as you discarded your dress and stepped underneath the steady stream of water. The shadowsinger's gaze hungrily raked over your naked body as he tucked his wings in close.

"Get on your knees for me, angel."

You followed azriel’s instructions and knelt in front of Cassian. When you looked up, you found nothing but dark pools of lust staring back at you. Cassian suppressed a shiver at the sight of you on your knees, watching and waiting. Hanging onto every word.

Azriel brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. “Open your mouth, baby. Go slow at first. Treat it like the ice cream. Lick from the shaft to the tip.”

You did as you were told and gave tentative little licks along the underside of his cock. Cassian was warm velvet in your mouth. “That’s it, angel. You’re doing so well.”

Cassian moaned in agreement while the shadowsinger gathered your hair into a ponytail. “Now, hold your breath and take him as far as you can.”

You obliged, slightly gagging as Cassian settled in the back of your throat. Azriel knelt behind you, pressing encouraging kisses behind your ear. Sharp teeth grazed the column of your throat and you moaned, which elicited a hum of pleasure from the male above you. Peering through your lashes, you waited for Azriel’s instructions. he smirked, knowing he was in full control.

“Bob your head up and down. Make it messy, my love.” Cassian groaned as you picked up the pace, his dark lashes kissing the tops of his cheekbones while the back of his head rested against the marble tile. He gripped the edges of the bench so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

Azriel chuckled darkly. He caressed your cheek, stroking over where Cassian was slotted in your mouth. “Our perfect little whore. So good at following instructions when you want to, yeah?”

You groaned as Azriel pushed your head down. Cassian hit the back of your throat, making you gag on his cock. His head fell back, mouth opening to release a filthy moan.

“That’s my good girl. Do you see what you’re doing to poor little Cassie? You’re unraveling him, angel. I bet he’s close to coming. Aren’t you, Cas?”

Cassian shuddered, his wings flexing behind him in confirmation. “Gods, don’t stop. Your mouth is perfect. Feels too fucking good.”

"Use both hands, love." Azriel instructed as he helped you get a firm grip on cassian. Water trickled through his perfectly sculpted abs, clenching as his release came closer and closer.

"Fuck, Y/N," Cassian growled. His hazel eyes burned as he watched you take all of him. Rough, calloused fingers caressed the hollow of your throat. He could feel you gag around him as he fucked your pretty mouth. You were so tiny and delicate, but absolutely fucking filthy too. Cassian was obsessed. "You're so pretty when you suck my cock."

You hummed in response, making the winged male buck against you. He gripped the back of your head and thrusted in and out as you moaned your approval. "Oh gods, Y/N. I'm so fucking close."

The shadowsinger grazed your earlobe with his teeth. "Swallow, baby. Every single drop. Do you understand?"

You nodded as Cassian shot hot ribbons into your mouth. The Illyrian warrior shuddered as you milked him dry, savoring the salt and musk of him hitting the back of your throat. He pulled you under the running water, droplets catching in your lashes as Cassian pressed you against the cold tile.

A mischevious grin curled against his lips as he caged you in. You startled at the way he completely enveloped you, the cover of his wings blocking out the light as his lips met yours. Cassian loved towering over you like this, his large hands roaming your body as he gripped your hips and lifted you up with ease.

You groaned as he wrapped your legs around his waist, his gruff movements making you feel as light as a rag doll as he kissed you fervently. He tasted like cinnamon and whiskey, an intoxicating combination that you chased with your tongue as you pulled at his hair. Cassian returned the favor by biting down on your bottom lip, chuckling darkly as your stiffened peaks pressed against the hard planes of his chest.

"Feisty little doll, aren't you?" He growled against your ear. Cassian hiked you up, letting you feel the effect of the kiss poking against your inner thigh. "I could take you right here and then without even breaking a sweat, sweetheart. You're such a tiny little thing, but you take cock so well, don't you?"

You responded with a whimper. Cassian bit into your neck, hard enough to leave a mark. "Cas, please."

The desperation in your voice was enough to make Cassian's cock twitch against your leg. You knew that with the right combination of pleading eyes and trembling lips, Cassian would be putty in your hands. You rolled your hips against him and he moaned against your neck. When his gaze met yours, his pupils were nothing but dark depths of desire.

"I need you, Cassian."

"Cauldron fucking boil me," he muttered. "Have me then, pretty girl."

You smirked, satisfied with your little victory until Azriel hovered behind Cassian's wings.

"Now who's spoiling her, Cas?" He nudged his brother aside and pulled you back down. Cassian smiled sheepishly, knowing full well that he would've fully given into you if the shadowsinger hadn't stepped in.

Azriel's smile was a cruel slant. "You're a devious little minx," he said. "You may be the perfect picture of innocence, but you're nothing but a filthy little slut, aren't you? It's too bad that I know all your tricks, angel. Seeing as how I’m the one who taught them to you."

You grinned. "It just means you're a great teacher, Az." The shadowsinger raised a brow as you snaked your arms around his neck. "You should be proud."

Azriel chuckled darkly before peeling you off of him. A dark curl clung to his cheek, covering the mischievous glint in his golden eyes. "I'll be proud after I make you squirt in my mouth two or three times." He nodded back to the marble bench. "Now be a good girl and lie down. You’re about to reap the consequences of your actions. I don't take kindly to being teased, my love."

The shadowsinger briefly glanced at Cassian. "You too, Cas. Hold her hips down. I don't want her squirming away before she's learned her lesson."

Cassian winked before settling onto the marble bench. Azriel instructed you to lie back against his brother's chest before kneeling between your legs. You swallowed thickly as the shadowsinger spread your thighs apart.

Azriel smirked as he secured your ankles around his neck. "You're dripping, angel." His seductive laugh skittered up your spine. "You like being a tease, don't you? Do you enjoy bringing Cassian and I to our knees?"

"Only because I love the view," you said with a smile. "But not as much as I love the both of you."

Cassian chuckled and wrapped you up in his arms. "We love you too, sweetheart, but Az is going to make you pay like he promised. Can't save you from him now, baby doll."

The shadowsinger kissed the inside of your knee and smiled. His warm breath fanned against your overheated core as he licked a teasing strip along your folds. You instantly arched into him, your body begging for more. Azriel signaled to Cassian, who shook his head and held your hips down.

"Don't let her up, Cassian." Azriel said. "Not until she begs."

Cassian only nodded and kept you firmly pressed against him as Azriel went to work. His tongue explored every inch of you, licking and sucking as though you were the strawberry cone from earlier. You nearly cried when he teased two fingers in, his mouth working in tandem to push you over the edge. The sensations were overwhelming and the combination of his mouth and fingers was enough to make you want to weep.

As always, Azriel set a punishing pace. It was like he was gauging how far he could push you until you completely lost your grip on reality. Your first orgasm felt like an explosion. Stars flooded your vision as though you were witnessing the demise of a dying star. A supernova.

The second time Azriel made you cum, you thought you were going to pass out from the intensity of the pleasure. When the third rolled around, you couldn't even remember your name.

"Az please," you cried. "I can't take any more."

Azriel glanced up at you, a damp curl clinging to his cheek as his mouth glistened with your arousal. He looked like a lion after devouring a fresh kill. Dark, lethal, and utterly dangerous. And you fucking loved him for it.

"You've got one more in you, darling. Doesn't she, Cas?"

Cassian smirked, his rough hands biting into your hips. "Maybe she needs a little motivation."

"Oh?" The smirk on Azriel's lips spelled nothing but trouble. He licked his lips, gathering the juices with his tongue. "Come and taste her on me, then. That should inspire her to ride another one out."

You swallowed thickly as Cassian kissed Azriel hungrily. The shadowsinger's scarred fingers snaked through Cassian's hair possessively, claiming him with his tongue and his touch. You groaned, whining until Azriel shot you a glare. He wasn't going to let you join in on the fun.

Cassian pulled away, looking dazed and disoriented. "You taste like heaven, doll." He kissed your cheek and chuckled as you tried to turn and catch his lips instead. "Be good and give Azriel one more, sweetheart. Then you can get all the kisses you want."

You pouted, but did as you were told. Azriel disappeared between your thighs again. Despite how overstimulated you felt, release found you in record time. Before you knew it, you were writhing against Azriel's mouth and coming for the fourth time.

It felt like both heaven and hell. Heaven because the pleasure was unlike any other. Hell because receiving that many orgasms back to back had you utterly spent even though you would've begged for more if you had the energy to speak.

"What did you learn today, angel?"

"Don't interrupt training." Azriel nodded in satisfaction. "And—"

The shadowsinger raised a brow. "There's an and?"

"And you eat pussy like a god," you stated matter-of-factly.

That earned you an amused smile. "Hear that, Cas? I think I might get a plaque made to put in my office."

Cassian only rolled his eyes. "She's only saying that because I haven't worked my magic yet." He brushed through your hair and kissed your temple. "I'll prove myself soon enough, but for now, you should get some rest pretty girl."

You nodded in agreement. "Cuddles?"

"Cuddles," Cassian confirmed.

After you cleaned up and dried off, you settled into bed. Sometimes the three of you slept in Cassian's room. Other times at Azriel's. But since your bed was the biggest, the three of you tended to prefer sleeping in your room most nights.

Your eyes felt heavy as Azriel snuggled behind you, smiling gently as Cassian tucked you underneath the blankets. You threw your leg over his, giggling as he complained about your cold feet.

"Shut up, you love it."

With the moonlight glistening against Cassian and Azriel's shirtless torsos as they snuggled up on either side, you couldn't help but feel like the luckiest female in the realm. The shadowsinger leaned over to kiss both of you good night.

“The next time you two conspire against me like that, I won’t be as nice. Do you understand?”

You and Cassian nodded, but the moment that Azriel looked away, you smirked at each other.

There would definitely be a next time.

You two never learned.

[tremendum]

Mr. Miller’s House 

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)    

rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)      

word count: 7.6k  requested: yes  summary: “Joel was a mean, mean man. and you eat it up like a woman starved for months.” warnings: mentions of food/eating, drinking alcohol, age gap (unspecified), Jackson era, Ellie gets a splinter, Joel is honestly rude to Ellie in this and reader is judgy about Joel’s parenting practices lol. but really,  this is just filthy smut (PiV, unprotected), dirty talk, sir kink, use of the word slut a LOT, one use of the word bitch, humiliation/degradation, hints of masochism, choking, exhibitionism, public smut, rough sex, dom!Joel, mean joel, lots of fighting/anger, cumplay, dirty talk, ass spanking, pussy spanking, mentions of blood (reader gets scraped knees), throat/facefucking, rough oral (m!receiving), overstimulation, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms. lmk if i missed any please lmfao

notes: okay jesus fucking christ!!! i wrote this so fasst lol but it was fun and highly requested. hope yall like it.  as always reblogs/asks/comments are always great motivations :’) this is not reread because as i have said before im lazy and INSANE! 

[this is a sequel to Mr Miller.    part three   other Joel fics:     fever       landmines  ]

★  

this was a mistake. you shouldn't have done this....this was a terrible idea. 

fuck. 

the chair is stiff beneath you. there's a hard coolness about it that is welcomed on the skin of your bare legs, the shorts you wear helpful in the heat of summer but futile against the slick of sweat that sheens your skin. the chair is hard, but yet still strong, sturdy.

 you swallow dryly, heart beating fast. it's the same chair you sat at just a few weeks ago, signing the log with Joel leaning over your shoulder, before he-

you look away, around, anywhere in order to avoid the memories, hot and boiling and clawing at your mind and suffocating you until you stop breathing- and then your eyes settle, they glue themselves across the kitchen table. 

they glue themselves to him. 

fuck. 

Joel's already staring at you; his lips are downturned in that permanent grimace he always sports, the muscles of his torso rigid with immobility - perhaps he thinks if he's still enough, the ground will just swallow him whole and he won't have to do this. 

you yearn for that escape as much as he does. 

then, out of the silence; "see, this isn't so bad." 

speak for yourself, Ellie. 

both heads in the room turn to the speaker slowly, the girl watching between the two of you, more than willing to ignore the obvious disdain in the air. she's grinning like a damn devil. 

this girl's going to kill you. 

it is that bad, contrary to Ellie's statement. 

it'd been days of her begging you, with a tug on the hand, a punch to the shoulder, and countless pleads and threats until you finally caved in and accepted her proposal to have her and Joel over for dinner. 

no matter how much you detest her guardian, you just can't resist those big puppy-dog eyes, or that gigantic, youthful smile. 

for the last few months, Ellie has grown to be quite the little farmhand for you; though you like to keep to yourself on your days in the gardens, it was nice to have the girl buzzing around you and the other gardeners, pollinating each person she sees with questions like what really happens in germination and is this ripe? can I pull it? 

it's cute, how excited she is to show Joel all of the crops you've grown with her in the last few months. but what isn't cute, is that it's him that has to be here. of all people, why did Joel have to be the one Ellie chose as her father? 

because.... things weren't okay between you and Joel. 

you're not sure if you were childish for expecting for him to warm up to you after - well, after the time he bent you on this table and fucked you stupid - but you hadn't been prepared for the coldest shoulder you've ever gotten in your measly life for the last few weeks. 

it didn't help that the summer was kicking up and you needed more crops than ever for the commune; your patrolling had dwindled into maybe one or two every week or so, usually with Maria - so you didn't have to face Joel, really, at all. 

but he avoided you like the plague when in town or on your street (though, he did that with everyone) and even at the Tipsy Bison, where your presence would clean him from the room before a drop of condensation could even slide down his glass of whiskey. 

hell, maybe he even put a word in with Maria and Tommy that the last patrol together didn't go as planned; you'd even considered doing it at one point. you're not sure, but it just made you all the more irritated when you'd catch glimpses of their porch in the afternoons, Joel holding a guitar around Ellie's chest, chuckling as she strummed horribly. as if everything was okay. like you didn’t exist. 

the anger and hatred grew awful. 

it festered, grew when Maria mentioned off-handedly to Tommy that some woman, Dahlia, had taken a liking to Joel. you'd nearly shattered the glass you were holding in your fist at that; Joel, with Dahlia? that grumpy piece of shit, taking a liking to someone sweet and kind like her? 

you ought to punch his fucking face. 

you're zoned out when Ellie suddenly comes into your line of sight; reaching over your chest to grab a slice of the fresh bread you'd picked up earlier that day. you blink back into reality as Joel grunts, "E-Ellie, hey." he's shaking his head as he gestures to her arm, "use your manners." 

he sounds almost embarrassed; annoyed. your mind betrays you as it whirls back; when Joel had you pinned down on this very table, commanding you in a different way, his eyes dark with delight as you cried and writhed for him. 

but at his chastising, you send Ellie a sneaky look, rolling your eyes when Joel's looking down. the girl chuckles at that and an untrusting Joel stares daggers between the two of you. Ellie clears her throat with a smirk,  "sorry. can you please pass me the bread?" 

you grin, "why, yes, ma'am." you hand her the basket, "thank you for asking." you add to the girl on your right, your eyes on Joel's. he stares back harshly, hand grabbing for the glass of wine that sits in front of him. 

another few moments of tension before Elie decided to take it upon herself to introduce as much of the food that sits on the table in front of you as she can remember. 

peas, spinach, lentil and cabbage stew, beet salad, goat cheese and roasted carrots, cauliflower mash. fresh bread.

proteins from animals are scarce and are typically served in only the dining hall, so you decided to skip the meat and serve roasted artichoke instead. Joel doesn't look too thrilled about that as Ellie explains. you hide your scoff behind a sip of your dark wine. 

"-and, look, I planted these beets." Ellie points to the bowl on the table which houses arugula and beet salad; you smirk down at the plate as Joel hums as if interested. his eyes flicker to yours from across the table as Ellie delves in on a tangent about how bloody beets look, those dark pupils flickering over your face before flitting back to the young girl. his eyes were swimming with something else, something.... seductive. 

a shiver runs down your spine.

does he ever think about it? 

you do. you think about it every night - how his hands felt, rough, unforgiving; the look on his face, that dark smirk when he'd made you beg for him to ruin you... the frenzy in his eyes when he'd ‘taught you some goddamn manners,’ when he'd taken you apart brutally and quick. Joel was a mean, mean man. and you eat it up like a woman starved for months. 

your name calls you back to Ellie, whose eyes are wide and tracing over a rough, splintered notch in your table, "the hell is this from, is it-" her fingers jolt away at the rugged piece that slides into her skin, "shit!" she yelps, shaking her hand. 

your brows furrow, rising to help her as Joel pulls her hand towards him.  "I have tweezers." you mutter, disappearing into your bathroom to pull out your tweezers, returning to see Ellie smiling in embarrassment and Joel sitting with his arms crossed, amused irritation lacing his face. his beard is growing in more recently - you can hear the noise of the short bristles scratching his hand as he rubs his knuckles over his jawline. 

nodding, pleased that Ellie's discomfort has subsided, you set your tweezers on your right, spearing some salad on your fork as silence cradles you three yet again. 

it’s only tense and silent for a moment. then Ellie speaks, and it’s just tense.

"why is there a notch like that in your table?" she finally wheezes, as if she'd been summoned to be silent until she couldn't handle her curiosity anymore. 

you don't have to look up to know that a pair of dark eyes pin you to your chair, daring you to say something about it. 

your throat dries as you swallow your mouthful of salad, coughing a bit. 

a rip in your flannel, the grazing of your soft skin with the blade. a hand pulling hard to dislodge the knife from its home against you; the thick slide of Joel as he drags his length through your destroyed, spent core. 

"um- I-I" perhaps it's your panic, of the knowledge that his eyes are glued to you, but soon your eyes meet his; unwavering. "well. someone likes to threaten people when they can't find patrol logs." 

"Joel!" Ellie hisses, smacking his arm, "you fucking stabbed her table and didn’t do anything about it?” she’s grinning. 

"yeah, Joel," you smirk, swirling with desire as his hawkish gaze pins you to your chair, "you really should use your manners. you've ruined my table." 

"shut the hell up right now." he snaps at you, hand slamming his fork down harshly onto the plate. you and Ellie both jump at the sternness in his voice. 

you listen, for once. 

and honestly, ten minutes ago feels like heaven compared to the tenseness of this silence. 

several minutes go by, the sounds of scraping forks and knives and the meager attempts by you and Ellie to salvage a decent dinner conversation ringing soft in your kitchen. 

at least you and her are trying. 

you ignore the notch from the knife like a wildfire and pretend Joel isn't even with you; Ellie is more than enough life and laughter for you, and your playful disposition matches hers perfectly despite the joy-damper of a man sat across from you. 

he's stewing. arms crossed, chewing on food here and then, mostly listening and sighing, brushing off Ellie's jabs or playful questions or stories. he won't do anything except eat and glare at you. 

the wine bottle is nearly gone and you're not sure if it's his fault or yours. probably both. 

you snap when he just outright ignores Ellie, shaking his head with a sigh and taking another bite. the audacity. 

"-she asked you a question, Miller." you snap, fed up with his dissociative disposition. you don't even intend to say it; even Ellie looks up at your words, surprised. 

his head turns to face you too slow to be safe. his eyes are fucking furious as he mutters, "excuse me?" 

"hey, guys-" Ellie's hands are out in front of her, but you can't take your eyes off him. 

"I'm just saying, you could at least try to pay attention." you spit, crossing your arms defensively, "we made this dinner, we're just trying to have a conversation, the least you could do-" 

"you don't tell me what to do." he states, calm and cool, pointing at you. his nose flares as he breaths heavy, your own breath quickening. arousal rushes to your center and you shift on your seat. 

"-listen, maybe this was a bad idea. I knew you weren't the best of friends, but this is-" Ellie starts again, eyes flickering between you both. "this is too awkward." 

"no, Ellie, I'm sorry-" you start to say, breaking. 

you don't want her to be caught in the cross-fire of your problems with Joel; it's unfair. the further this goes, the more she'll be put in a position of mediator, so you figure it should just end now. 

"Ellie, go home." 

Joel growls the demand, eyes looking to her, his hand falling gently to her shoulder. her eyes widen, as if asking him if he's serious. 

"what?" she asks, "no! you'll-you’ll fucking stab each other or something." 

yeah, you think. you might. 

Joel's shaken off her shoulder but he's resilient, "go on, go see the kids for the movie. I'll come later. we just need to sort something out." he mutters, eyes falling to you at the tail end of his sentence. 

shivers roll down your spine; fuck, fuck - a flood of arousal hits you again, and you swallow, willing the feelings to go the fuck away. 

Ellie's scowling, but still has the decency to thank you for dinner before slamming the door hard on her way out of the threshold. 

Joel's eyes stay locked with yours until her footsteps are gone. 

it’s silent for a moment before he speaks. 

"do not fuckin' disrespect me like that in front of her again." he snaps. 

you narrow your eyes, "you're concerned that I- what, I undermined you in front of your girl?" you hiss incredulously. "come on, that's pathetic." 

"I don't like you." he snaps, shoving his plate away from him in an almost childish act of defiance. it’s shocking, the immaturity of his words so sudden. barely prompted. 

it's clear he intends to continue this little confessional of his, but you have no intention of allowing that. 

you roll your eyes, "big fucking deal. what do you want me to say?" you hiss, "sorry that I was rude, Mr. Miller! let me just cook you fucking dinner and invite you over to make up for it." 

his nostrils flare, "never wanted to do this in the first place." he mutters. 

you nearly rip out your hair in frustration. "obviously you didn't! christ, why do you always act like everything you do is a goddamn chore?" you snap, "Ellie wanted to have a nice night and show you what we've been doing- what she's been doing for this community. and all you can do is sit here and act like a fucking asshole because you don't know how to enjoy anything. it's a miracle she's still around with you, when you treat her like that." 

his jaw clicks in anger, "you have no fuckin' clue what we've been through together." his voice is close to a yell, "you don't know how much that girl means to me." 

"then why won't you show her!?" you yell. 

it quiets the room for a moment and a fleeting feeling of pride is squashed when he speaks again. 

his brows raise, a look of realization creeping onto his face. he nods his head, "I see what this is," he lets out a bitter, mocking laugh. "you want me to tell you how much I love your food? y'trying to prove to me that you're not a bad influence on her, after all?" 

you stare at him, anger clouding your sight; are there tears of frustration rimming your eyes? you hope he doesn't notice. 

"-newsflash, darlin', I don't fucking care about you." he finishes, scowl dark. "you're a nuisance. don' know why Tommy took you in, anyways. you're a foul-mouthed, untrustworthy, pathetic little slut- and jus' because you can't stop thinking about my cock doesn't mean I owe anything to you. no dinner, no fuckin- cordial neighborly attitude, nothing." 

thinking about- what?

oh, fuck him. your face burns; your jaw unhinges. of course he thinks this is about you and him. your eyes spare a quick, fleeting glance to the notch in the table before you glare, "well I don't fucking care about you either, Miller. don't be so fucking conceited." 

he laughs, shaking his head as he downs the remainder of his wine before slamming the glass down, but you're not finished. you can't let him think he's won. 

"you’re delusional. I haven't thought of it once." you spit, aflame at his accusation. you feel flustered, still caught off-guard. if anything, it was him who was obsessed with it - you see the way his eyes can't leave you; the way he adjusted his jeans earlier when you leaned over to pull a bowl from your cabinet. 

"really?" he spits, brows raised. his chest moves with the exertion of your yelling and you resist the urge to hit him or stomp your foot or anything. "yes, really." you defend, face heating up under the scrutiny of his knowing gaze. 

"anyone ever tell you you're an awful liar, sweetheart?" he drawls, raising his brows at you. 

you fume, standing up, pointing to the door, "get the fuck out, Joel." 

his eyes light ablaze with the same anger that rages in your heart as he stands, throwing his napkin on his plate, "gladly. food was great." he spits, storming out of the house with no other words. 

-- 

your scowl doesn't leave your face for the entire rest of the night. what- what the fuck was that? how dare Joel assume so much about you- he doesn't know you, at all. 

your eyes fall to the bottle in your hands.

ellie left her water canteen at your place. you were so angry, so mad earlier, that you hadn’t realized she’d left it until a few minutes ago. 

she doesn't need it, right? she could get it next time she comes round. yeah. she'll get it next time, you don't have to go over. right?

no. 

you have to go over. 

the anger within you festers just as much as the slick that plagues the apex of your thighs in the aftermath of your spat with Joel; it's a vicious cycle where you think about his tone, how condescending it was and then you get mad - but some sick part of you wants it to consume you; wants him to consume you. 

you’re fucking obsessed with him. you hate him. 

you need to hear him yell at you again- if-if anything, to get your ten cents in on the argument, and also maybe to get some good content for your wet dreams tonight. jesus christ. 

god, you're so fucked up. 

christ. 

so once you finish cleaning from the remnants of the meal, your legs are carrying you over to his house with Ellie's canteen in your hand before you can second-guess it. 

what the fuck are you doing? 

you're standing on their porch in mere seconds, your breath heavy with wrath. what if Ellie opens the door? well- you suppose, if she does, you'll give her the canteen and talk to her. probably apologize for acting the way you did. no business with Joel, then. yeah.  that’s... that’s fine. 

fuck. why do you want Joel to answer so terribly? 

you know where the answer lies - a coiling beast of arousal, consuming and muddling your mind, just at the apex of your thighs. 

Joel is a fucking asshole. you need him. now. 

your knuckles slam so hard and unforgiving against their door that there is no possibility of them assuming it's anybody else but you at their porch. their light is flickering and dim above you as you stand, canteen in hand, eyes trained forward in determination.  

the door swings open in an air of irritation. 

your face jerks back as Joel Miller stands, staring at you with the disdain of a thousand lifetimes swirling around his eyes. 

"y'here for more?" he snarks. 

your momentary hesitation melts away when his words drip from his lips. a glare pierces him through the eyes when you shove the canteen into his hands, "I'm here for Ellie. she left this." you spit. 

he lets out a chuckle, humor absent from the ring as he scratches his nose, "right." he mutters. "well she ain't home. went to the movie in town." he clips, setting the canteen on the table just inside the house. "y'need me to pass any more of your words of wisdom on to her?" he asks, voice clipped and prickled with sarcasm. 

you glare. "yeah. just do me a favor, tell her I'm sorry her dad is being a hypocritical, neglecting asshole." you snark, sending a false smile up at him as he leans with his arms crossed at the doorway.

you don't miss how he leans into it, how he's not slamming the door on your face. he wants to argue, too. "-and you can suck a dick, Mr. Miller." you add, intending to whirl away on your heel. 

he scoffs, a deep and condescending noise. "thanks for comin' all the way over to return a little canteen. g'night, darlin', hope you don't make too much'a mess when you cum all over that table again tonight thinkin' of how much I hate you. glad y'got your ten cents in." 

your face burns hot in embarrassment, and at the irony of him using the same phrase you’d thought. 

the door moves quick to shut, but your arm moves quicker. 

your hand wedges is just before it shuts, leaving you far too close to Joel than you'd like - gunpowder, pine, and dark amber whiskey surround your senses. again. 

so you shoot another fist forward, aiming for his left jaw; aiming for it to hurt.

he’s going to fucking hurt.  

it doesn't make contact with the warm skin, though: no, his hand has caught your wrist in an iron-tight grip, wrenching your arm down hard. 

you let out a gasp of surprise as he shoves you off of the door and away from him before you can blink. 

but instead of the door slamming in your face, his rough hands are pushing you hard up against the side of his garage. the door behind him remains ajar as he pushes himself into your space, growling at you as your mouth falls open in shock. 

"did you just try to hit me, girl?" he whispers, voice deadly serious. you swallow, arousal rushing down to your heat; you swear you can feel your heartbeat in your pussy as he stares hard at you, but your eyes trail down to his jeans.

you hide your smirk as you take in the stretch of the rough denim, the outline of his own arousal evident even in the dim light. he’s hard because you were going to hit him. 

your body aches as you remember the stretch of him inside you, splitting you open. your eyes flicker back up to his where he breathes heavily, expecting a response. 

you give him one. 

"yes, but you already knew that." you smirk, cocking your head as you boldly gyrate your hips forward slightly, your clothed cunt clenching in desire as you graze his hard-on. "or are you not hard right now, Mr. Miller?" you purr, your voice laced with seduction. 

his rough hand shoves your hips hard back against the wall, a growl slipping his throat. "y'got a dirty fuckin' mouth on you." his breath hits your cheeks in a warm reminder of the wine you'd both had for dinner. 

"so it wasn't because of that?" you ask, blinking in a false sense of innocence, watching as his eyes swim with an animalistic hunger. you've got him right where you want him. "was it from thinking about me touching myself? or, from remembering the last time we were together in my house?" 

his momentary lapse in recovery allows for you to go in for the final kill, "Mr. Miller,” you coo, “do you think of my pussy when you fuck Dahlia? d'you wish it was me?" you spit, smirking up at him as red splatters his furious features, "you can talk all you want, Mr. Miller, but I know you're just a greedy, desperate man who loves to pretend you have any power over me." you whisper into the shell of his ear, palm roughly grabbing the outline of his cock boldly. 

his next movements take your breath away: the shock of his fists slamming hard against the wall on either side of your head makes you jump, and his hawkish, angry eyes bore into yours. 

"get your fuckin' hands off of me. now." 

his voice is... scary. 

the blood leaves your head as your damp spot of your pants floods with desire, the fear spiking a real excitement in you. you are smart enough to follow his orders; the look in his eyes suggests you do so. 

your hands shakily fly back from his crotch to hang by your sides as you stare up at him - nervous. excited, ready. 

his eyes are narrowed, stern as his brows are furrowed low. the permanent scowl on his lips is intimidating as he holds your gaze with fierce intent. "you're gonna be real fuckin' honest with me, now. okay?" 

you swallow dryly, staring up at his face, how he's boxed you in with arms on either side of your head. you feel cornered, small; prey, hunted by predator. 

you nod smally, startled into silence, unable to speak as the ache between your legs becomes unbearable. your legs clench, searching for relief only to be disappointed at the dull sensation. 

he stares at you for a few moments, unmoving except for the flaring of his nostrils and the rising of his chest as he breathes just as heavy as you. 

"are you wet?" 

your face flushes with heat. christ, Joel is going to kill you. (if you don't kill him first). your legs feel weak, desire driving your heart rate up as you nod meekly, voice cracking out. "y-yes." 

he nods, seemingly pleased with your honesty. 

"how long have you been walkin' round with ruined panties?" his head tilts down slightly, angled down at you as if chastising you. you flush in shame, genuinely taking a moment to remember the exact moment you first noticed your underwear dampen. 

you can't admit to him that you woke up this morning with his name on your lips and a wet patch on the seat of your sleep shorts, can you? (and certainly not that it happens every day.) 

"s-since-" you take a sharp inhale, glaring at him for humiliating you like this - outside, no less. anybody could walk past or look out their window and see Joel and you like this. "dinner." 

his brows raise, the look darkening on his face. you can tell, he loves the beginning - the teasing, the arguing, the embarrassment - just as much as the end. "dinner? s'like, two hours." his frown immodest, tempting. judging. 

you nod, biting back a snide comment about Joel being an excellent time-teller, your face burning in embarrassment as you break eye contact, staring at your feet. 

"d’you like being a slut?" he asks, then. you nearly whimper at his words, the aching in your cunt burning, pulsing and clenching around nothing as you stare at him in desire. fuck Joel Miller. 

"'m not a slut." you say, but the defiant words come out more as a whine than a sharp argument. one hand falls from the wall on your left to grip onto your jaw, holding your cheeks hard as he forces your eyes back up to him. 

his nails dig into the soft flesh of your cheeks as you gasp, your own hands in fists as you resist pulling him into you. 

"that's not what I fuckin' asked, now, is it?" he sneers. you blink up at him, shaking your head after a moment of contemplation. "no, sir." you whisper meekly. you don't miss the tightening of his grip at the honorific as it falls sultry from your lips. he hums. 

"do you want me to touch you?" he asks next. you can't even have the decency to stop your whine as you nod, "yes, please." 

his other hand falls from the wall, eyes just as angry and unforgiving as he undoes the button on your shorts single-handedly. "good. don't you fuckin' look away from my eyes, y'hear me? hands down, eyes up." 

this is twice now that he hasn't let you touch him - your brows furrow, but just as he snaps in front of your face, you let the thought melt away. 

"y-yes, sir." you nod, your palms sweaty, heart thundering as he shoves his hand down the front of your shorts, breaching your underwear easily as fingers slide through the deft curls that lie just above your heat. 

"gotta warm y'up for me this time," he mutters, eyes sharp as he watches yours, ensuring they don't do as much as blink. 

it's delicious, almost too much as two of his thick fingers part the seam of your lips, your wetness spilling and coating his fingers immediately. you burn in shame, thighs starting to close over his hand. 

one ruddy, thick thigh slides to kick your leg to the side, widening your stance as he shoves you harder up against the side of the house. the tip of his finger prods at your aching hole, leaking with desperation for him. 

there are crickets outside, a steady but low staccato of music filling the summer Jackson air as one finger slowly slides into you, curling unforgivingly as you gasp, rising on your toes as he stretches you. "fuck," you whimper, throwing your head back against the wall behind you. 

the thud is dull, but it echoes around the street and it calls your attention to the very public space you're in. 

"hey." Joel snaps, one hand swatting your cheek lightly as your eyes close, "don't look away." 

you blink back at him as he pumps lazily for a few moments, watching your every micro-expression, the way your chest stutters with his motions. the noise of your arousal is humiliating against the pleasant summer breeze. 

you can't help the low moan of his name when he adds a second finger. the stretch is nothing like when it's his cock inside of you, but the strokes, the curl of his fingers start to coax a simmering coil in you that you know will explode soon. 

your eyes are still on his obediently when you nearly whisper it. 

he hears it, though, and smirks, "what was that, darlin’?" 

you groan in irritation but it splinters into a sharp moan when his fingers pick up their pace, fucking into you as you lie slack against the wall, legs trembling. 

"just- fuck me. fuck me now." you wheeze, the desire a burning snake that coils around your chest and squeezes at your heart. 

"no." he decides, eyes glaring, "can't have y'whining like a bitch again, darlin'. gotta open you up on my fingers first." the sting of his words are cushioned by the lust that swirls around his voice, the languid was his thick fingers pump up into you, holding you up against the frame of the house with a dark smirk. 

you nod, hissing in stimulation when one finger slides to start rubbing your neglected clit with just enough pressure to curl your toes; your chest is slick with sweat, fingernails digging painfully into the meat of your palm as you hum, lips sealed tight to avoid yelping out. 

your eyes flicker from his once more, scanning the street just feet away from you, paranoid of the possibility of a neighbor seeing you. 

Joel notices, of course. "what, baby, don' want the neighbors to see?" he hums, eyes cutting into you as your face flushes with heat, "y'seemed to want everybody to hear me fucking you stupid last time, didn't 'ya?" 

you groan, "fuck you, Joel." 

his hand stops its ministrations just as cold ice pours down your spine. oh, shit. 

his hand slides out of your pants, face furious. 

you shake your head, eyes welling with tears; you hadn't meant for it to slip out like that. "n-no, wait, 'm sorry, didn't mean it." you whimper, voice choked with the loss of his hand. 

he just huffs a cold chuckle, wiping his hand over his face, the other one glistening with your juices under the light of the porch. 

your panicked, desperate babble of apologies is stopped with one look from him. 

"get on your goddamn knees now." 

you shiver with excitement, tears drying slightly as you swallow, complying quickly. the cement is rough and cold under your bare knees, your hands held still together on your thighs as you stare up at him in wait. he stands tall before you; the shroud of the flickering porch light emboldening him, making him look like a god - an unforgiving one, at that - as he pulls his thick, pulsing cock from his jeans. 

your mouth waters as he starts to pump it languidly, the tip a red color from arousal, leaking precum. 

he doesn’t have to ask you to open your mouth for him, your own desire to taste him spurring you to stick your tongue out flat in wait for his dick. 

"I'm going to ask you again." he says, tapping your tongue with the weight of his length, the slapping noise flooding your underwear as you ache to feel him again. "do you like being a slut?" 

you swallow, tongue sliding along the bottom of his head as you do, muttering a slight, "yes, sir." 

"'s right. you love being my slut." he nods, your mouth open and ready for him as he thrusts his whole length into your wet, warm mouth; you gag almost immediately, his hips unforgiving as he immediately starts to fuck into your throat. you try your best to breathe through your nose, gagging as his tip pokes the back of your throat - you know there'll be a bruise that will make it painful to eat, drink, speak - you fucking love it. 

he lets out a grunt of arousal, nodding as his hands gather your hair from your face, gripping your cheeks and pushing your head back against the side of the house. 

two thrusts, a few tears from your eyes as you choke, your lungs burning for air. 

he pulls away, you suck in air with a strangled gasp. your saliva links you to his heavy cock, a chain that holds you in his grasp. "tell me you love being my slut." 

you burn at his words and in your brief hesitation, his cock is slapping at your mouth, his impatience bleeding through his actions. 

"I-" your voice is wrecked after only a few seconds of him in your mouth, but you swallow as you gasp for air, "I l-love being your slut." 

he slides himself through your slick lips again, hips a punishing pace as he fills up your mouth, your throat tight and wet. his groan echoes through the street; in the corner of your eye, you swear you see a light turn on in a bedroom window. shivers of desire run through you as you resist the urge to touch yourself. 

you can't breathe; your nose brushes against the course hair at the base of his shaft, the scent of him surrounding you as his hips try to smash you against the side of the house. 

he holds you there, hands rough on your cheeks, slapping your right cheek as it bulges with his length. you choke, gagging as you try your hardest to keep eye contact. his face is harsh, his sneer cold as he stares at you, "'s right, choke on your fuckin' words, darlin'." his hips press forward slightly and you cough around him, it's too much - tears slide down your cheeks as you try not to gag more. 

"you gonna disrespect me again?" he asks, tilting his head as spit trails down your chin, tears meeting the trail of saliva as it drips down onto your chest. 

you can only hum a nuh-uh around his cock, hoping it's enough to satisfy him. you feel yourself throb and fucking burn with need, your knees sore from the cement under you. 

you cough and sputter when he pulls himself away from you, mouth sore, jaw aching and throat wrecked. his eyes flicker over to the house across the street before he grips your shoulder, tugging you in your aroused, dazed state up to your legs. 

"oh, darlin', you're bleedin'." he coos at you, thumb swiping your cheek as you stand up. he's right: your knees are just scratched enough to speckle the skin with dark splotches of blood. you feel a tingling sensation of arousal as he hums, "let's get you inside, hm?" 

you stumble to keep up as he storms through the threshold of the house, the door swinging shut after your shaking frame falls inside. it's dark; there is only one lamp turned on in the other room. 

Joel is almost a shadow as he surrounds you, your hands falling onto his large, stiff shoulders as he pushes you against the door frame. 

your legs give out from desire soon and the two of you tumble to the ground, a mess of grunts and shoves, tearing at clothes as you whimper in desire, his own lustful groans echoing the empty house. as his pants are shucked off and your shorts are thrown across the room, your hips are shoved and flipped over until you're ass-up for him, one of his large hands moving roughly to grab a handful of your plush behind. 

your hands and knees ache, but you wiggle your ass slightly in need, not daring to speak to him. the anger that radiates from the two of you is a grenade; you can feel the tension bubbling behind your desire and so you just move back until you brush against his hard length, the fabric of your panties completely soaked as you grind against him. 

his moan echoes as a hand falls hard to slap against the skin of your ass. you let out a strangled yell, the pain stinging through you as you keen forward. you know there will be a handprint branded into you, you know it'll be sore to sit and you'll have to think of him each time. he'll consume you for days. 

you love it. 

his fingers tease the wet material that's glued to your pussy with desire, tracing over your lips lightly over the fabric. "pretty cunt, just for me." he mutters; you shake with desire when you realize it was more a mutter for him than an intentional phrase for you to hear.

"think you're ready for me, baby?" he grunts, his fingers pulling your underwear to the side, exposing your puffy, glistening cunt to him. 

"I'm so re-ready sir, please, fuck me." you beg, reduced yet again to nothing but a writhing mess for the worst man you know. 

he gives no warning, no teasing - he breaches you swiftly and rough. you scream. 

it cracks, it echoes, it's painful as you yell out, his cock heavy and huge and aching as he slides into you, sheathing you fully within a few seconds. Joel's moan reverberates on your skin as his hands grip so hard at your ass you think his fingers will remain there for days. 

he immediately sets a pace that has you squirming under him, breath choking up in your chest as you slide against the hardwood. the smell of the house is Joel - sandalwood, whiskey, pine. sex. 

your arms are tugged roughly. 

panic rises in you when you think you're about to slam your face against the floor, but as Joel pounds hard into you, he pulls your hands tight to your back, holding you up to you're suspended with just his cock working you open can keep you from falling. 

it's bliss. it's sharp, this angle; he hits into that spongy spot inside you as his cock drags against your pulsing walls, your hands clenching as your breath leaves you. 

one hand sneaks over your front, grasping at your tits as he reaches up into you deeply. then it snakes lower, rocking you forward as he swats at your clit, the sharp smack of his palm causing you to squeeeeeze around him, trapping him in your aching desire. he lets out a grunt, "fuckin'- jesus christ, girl, you're s-so tight."

the noises of your arousal swallowing his dick echo around the room in a sickening chorus. 

"dumb girl, lovin' it when I yell at her," he mutters to himself, chasing your high as he feels it spasming close around him. "gonna be o-obedient and thank me for each orgasm, 'kay?" his accent is thick in the throes of passion, you notice. 

you nod, unable to speak, unable to think as you feel the crest of something incredibly blissful; you let out a wheeze of ecstasy. "y-yes, s-sir," you choke, your voice croaking from the remnants of his dick wrecking you. 

you barely realize you're cumming until you’re screaming, a white-hot, searing arousal streaking your vision. tears are resurfacing on your eyes as he hums, "say it." 

you swallow, shakily squirming as he pounds into you, unforgiving in tone and pace. "than-thank you." 

it only takes a few more minutes and his thick hand squeezing your throat before you cum for a second time, your hands pulling at his hips, trying to escape the overstimulation of his long, dragging thrusts. the floor is slick with your juices, and so is his pubic bone. 

"thank you, s-sir." you slur out, his hand holding you by the throat against his chest, his heartbeat slamming just as fast as yours. 

soon he drops your arms, their shaky muscles barely stopping you as you fall to the floor. his chest follows you until he's smothering you, thrusts becoming weak with his own nearing orgasm. you cry, the overstimulation causing you to shake. "'s too much, too much." 

he hums, "you want me to stop?" 

"no!" you scream it, wail it; no, christ, don't stop. never stop. 

he chuckles; a dark, brooding noise. "an' you wonder why I think you're such a bad influence." he mutters into the shell of your ear as he pushes further, deeper into you; "lettin' an old man fuck you into the floor. lovin' it." 

he chuckles as you let out a whine, eyes screwing shut at the bursts of pleasure coursing through you. your knees ache.

"'s dirty, isn't it? and you love it, pretty girl." 

you let your cheek drop onto the hardwood at his ministrations, spent from your previous orgasms; the pet name makes you flush, arching your hips back. he's so deep, you feel him in your throat. each thrust pushes his tip into your cervix, a dull ache with a swirl of pleasure and ecstasy. you let out a groan, "love it, love it s'much. love it, sir, thank you." you whimper, your brain empty except for Joel Joel JoelJoel-

"good m-manners, sweet girl." he hums, pressing a hot kiss to your spine. goosebumps form in his wake, his words echoing in your brain. sweet girl. 

"you're gonna cum one more time." he orders, the thrusts of his hips grinding you down, melting you, tearing you. you nod, "yes, yes-yes, fuck, gonna-gonna cum again." you whimper, the painful overstimulation of his cock drilling through your spent, swollen folds. 

your third orgasm has you wailing, shaking your head as you convulse in pleasure, his strong grip holding your hips down as he hits your spot repeatedly, the noise of him fucking into you echoing through the foyer. 

there's tears on the floor as you shake, colors exploding behind your eyes as he whispers things you cannot hear into your ear. 

when you come to, he's still ravaging your body. 

you're limp, ecstasy flowing through your very being as his cock spears through you, hands smacking you, gripping you, grunts leaving his mouth as he nears his own orgasm, having pulled three from you. 

"where are your manners?" he whispers into your ear. you let out a broken half-laugh, half-gasp. "fuck- thank you, Joel, thank you." 

he hums in satisfaction and you swear you feel his cock twitch inside you as you utter his first name. 

he's back in your ear in seconds, surrounding you, swallowing you whole. you love it. 

"this is my pussy. mine." he grunts, "never think 'bout any other pussy. jus' this one. always." his voice is laced with desperation as he swats your ass, thrusting into you a few more times as you squirm, sobbing, throat raw. 

yours, you whimper in a chorus, body limp as he uses you; his thrusts are sloppy. he's so close- 

and he cums just as he's pulling out of you; you gasp at the loss but also as his cum shoots hot spurts across the plush curve of your ass, a bit onto your spine - most of it over your ruined pussy, streaking you in white. 

you pulse around nothing, shaking as your legs give out. he groans a deep thing, fingers falling to spread you open, the lewd noise soft and slick.

you jolt and he shushes you with a soft caress of your back. "jus' wanna see it, baby. wanna see how I ruined you." 

you swallow dryly at that, nodding as you tilt your hips, eager to feel his eyes over you, over all of you; eager for him. 

a finger smears his spend over your juices, pressing lightly at your puckered hole, pushing some of his cum back into you. "fuckin' christ, girl." 

you set out a laugh that turns into a cough of pain at the ragged state of your throat. 

he stands and leaves you on the cold floor, covered in sweat. you try not to let your heart deflate when he’s gone. 

but he returns with a rag and hands it to you before shucking his jeans on; you pull your underwear back on with shaky hands once you’ve wiped yourself clean, your body exhausted. 

you sigh. even the thought of making the trek just a few houses down to your own place is daunting as your eyes flutter. something in his eyes glint in understanding when your gazes meet each other, and he seems to get it. 

so if Joel gathers you in his arms with a grunt and a short complaint, you don't think too much about it. 

(you hate him. he hates you.)

and if he holds your head to his chest as he starts the walk back to your house, it’s not a big deal to you. 

when brings you up into your bedroom instead of leaving you at your front door as he finally carries you to your house, you chalk it up to you being nearly asleep. you must be delirious when he tucks you into your mattress and pulls your blankets up. you swear he mutters something about dinner and nice and good job. 

(what a cocky asshole.) 

it's probably a dream, when a hand caresses the sweaty skin of your forehead, brushing hair away gently before footsteps disappear through the doorway. 

. part three .

requests open

. 

[gibberishfangirl]

WIND BREAKER | zoo date

Synopsis ✰ head cannons about how a zoo date would go between you and the boys

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw! just cute content of the boys being happy boyfriends

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 the zoo date was your idea but you were pleasantly surprised to see Sakura agree to it

𝜗𝜚 he’s secretly really excited about it, it’s his first time going but doesn’t tell you

𝜗𝜚 he LOVES it, is incredibly fascinated in the cutest way

𝜗𝜚 the day you two went happened to be incredible hot but it’s okay, neither of you complained

𝜗𝜚 one of the first exhibits you went to go see were the pandas

𝜗𝜚 “AWH! look Sakura! it’s us!” you giggled pointing to the two cuddling panda bears, he blushes at the comparison

𝜗𝜚 “hey, now that i think about it, you kinda do remind me of panda bears.” you murmured thinking aloud to yourself. “s-shut up! no i don’t!” he stammers with a furious blush as you giggle at him

𝜗𝜚 his second favorite animal to see were actually the giraffes he thought they were so cool for some reason, he stood there mesmerized for a moment

𝜗𝜚 his first favorite animal to see were the orangutans and apes, he seemed like a little kid in awe with his face up against the glass trying to get a better look

𝜗𝜚 you figured out after some time that this had to be his first time there

𝜗𝜚 in order to make the day extra special you went out of his way purchase him a panda plushie as a surprise and told him “i had to buy a plush animal that was as cute as you!”

𝜗𝜚 he grumbles a bit at the gift but accepts it and offers a small “thank you” with a light blush -> panda officially becomes his cuddle buddy after this day

𝜗𝜚 at the end of the day you two got sun burnt since both of you forgot to apply sunscreen

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 boy scout mode activated!

𝜗𝜚 he literally had every necessary item packed for the two of you

𝜗𝜚 once he found out you forgot to apply sunscreen before leaving the house he has you sit on a rock and applied the sunscreen on your legs and arms for you

𝜗𝜚 you struggled to catch up to him the whole day since his legs were so long, not to mention the steps he kept taking were massive

𝜗𝜚 you were exhausted the entire day by trying to keep up with him

𝜗𝜚 you took multiple pit stops in shady areas Ume found for you

𝜗𝜚 he was incredibly energetic the entire day as his pace never gave up, however, he did slow down after realizing you were struggling to keep up

𝜗𝜚 he offers you a piggy back ride which you happily accept

𝜗𝜚 thanks to his ability to carry you throughout most of the day you managed to get through the whole park

𝜗𝜚 you both saw every animal they had

𝜗𝜚 once he notices your face getting a little red, he takes off his hat and places it on yours

𝜗𝜚 he buys you water throughout the day to ensure you aren’t dehydrated

𝜗𝜚 you guys loved to do some window shopping at the end of the day

𝜗𝜚 he purchased a key chain and small animal plush for you

𝜗𝜚 funny enough you purchased the same key chain for him so the two of you had matching ones

𝜗𝜚 “this was fun, what should we do next time?” he asks at the end of the day before softly kissing your cheek

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 a complete gentleman the entire day

𝜗𝜚 he makes sure you have sunscreen applied before you two start walking in the hot sun

𝜗𝜚 he makes sure to walk at your pace and not leave you behind

𝜗𝜚 he ensures your hydrated the entire day by always providing cold water and drinks for you

𝜗𝜚 he buys you a plush of your favorite animal

𝜗𝜚 you two gushed over the cuteness of the koalas that happened to be sleeping

𝜗𝜚 you took so many photos with him

𝜗𝜚 you guys spent about half an hour in the photo booth taking photos

𝜗𝜚 he blushes when you refer to your plush as “our baby”

𝜗𝜚 “ah look so cute our baby looks!” you gushed as you put a hair clip on the stuffed animal

𝜗𝜚 “you know you can never leave me now right? i don’t want to be a single mother and you can’t become a dead beat father.” you said out of no where making him laugh “what a silly thought, i would never leave you.”

𝜗𝜚 you two actually ate at one of the restaurants to try it out

𝜗𝜚 it was both of your first times going to the zoo

𝜗𝜚 unfortunately you two didn’t see all the animals or get to cover a lot of the park

𝜗𝜚 “oh no suo, we didn’t see all the animals.” you pouted at him a little sad in all honesty

𝜗𝜚 he offers a hug and simply replies with “it’s okay, we’ll get to see them next time.” your heart fluttered at those last two words

𝜗𝜚 ofc he was already planning another date in his head from the first moment this one started

Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 you guys were getting lost all day

𝜗𝜚 both of you kept getting confused by the map

𝜗𝜚 if you said go right he’ll go left, if he says go left you go right

𝜗𝜚 at least the two of you were getting lost together

𝜗𝜚 you both have fun regardless

𝜗𝜚 despite getting lost you guys would stumble across some of the animal exhibits

𝜗𝜚 one of the biggest highlights of the day was finding the petting zoo

𝜗𝜚 you both gushed over the cute animals

𝜗𝜚 “look we can feed them!!” you yelled in excitement after noticing there was food you can purchase for the animals

𝜗𝜚 Nirei couldn’t help but smile and take photos of your cute self feeding the animals

𝜗𝜚 until one of the animals starting nibbling on your sweater

𝜗𝜚 your sweater had a chunk get bitten off, “no this was my favorite sweater!” you whined

𝜗𝜚 not to mention the day you two went on happened to be chilly so you were cold without it

𝜗𝜚 after seeing you shivering Nirei took off his jacket and put it on you

𝜗𝜚 “can’t have my pretty girl getting a cold”

𝜗𝜚 you held hands all day and had so much fun watching all the animals

𝜗𝜚 whenever Nirei got cold you helped him out by cuddling him and giving him warm hugs

𝜗𝜚 you two happened to make your way back to the entrance around closing time

𝜗𝜚 you both were in shock when you realized you managed to get see everything in the entire park

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 fortunately enough, you both were slow paced and kept up with each other

𝜗𝜚 you spent the whole day at the zoo being in no rush

𝜗𝜚 you guys took your time to explore

𝜗𝜚 despite it being so hot Togame kept holding your hand all day

𝜗𝜚 he would pout whenever you stopped holding his hand to wipe off your sweaty palm

𝜗𝜚 puts you on his shoulder so you can get a closer look at the animals

𝜗𝜚 he can’t help but smile whenever you’re in awe, “how cute” he would think

𝜗𝜚 he spent the whole day looking at you more than the animals his heart fluttering each time you smiled brightly

𝜗𝜚 “awh isn’t this so cute?!” you gushed talking about the sleeping koalas that happened to be cuddling. “yeah, very cute.” he smiled not even taking his eyes off of you

𝜗𝜚 to Togame there was no better view than you

𝜗𝜚 Togame had ice creams on hand throughout the whole day for the two of you to cool off

𝜗𝜚 he hadn’t realized how much concern he held for you until he saw you getting too close to some of the cages

𝜗𝜚 “wait! be careful, not too close.” he scolded out of pure concern, pulling you back into his chest by your waist

𝜗𝜚 “relax, i’ll be okay.” you pouted each time he pulled you back. “i just want to make sure.” he would say with a small frown

𝜗𝜚 Togame was on edge whenever it regarded your safety

𝜗𝜚 goodluck trying to convince him to let you feed the animals at the petting zoo

𝜗𝜚 would guard the bathroom doors whenever you were in there

𝜗𝜚 incredibly paranoid whenever you went too far

𝜗𝜚 “don’t go too far, what if i lose you?”

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

𝜗𝜚 the zoo date was actually a surprise date that Choji planned himself

𝜗𝜚 he had the entire day planned out

𝜗𝜚 he knew exactly how the two of you would spend the entire day

𝜗𝜚 he also planned out the date to be on a day with the perfect weather

𝜗𝜚 he wanted everything to be perfect for you

𝜗𝜚 he was a ray of sunshine all day smiling and laughing at your cuteness and whenever you pointed something out about the animals

𝜗𝜚 you had so much fun! you both walked hand in hand all day swaying your hands back and forth with huge smiles

𝜗𝜚 he ensures that your hydrated by offering water to you all day, “you sure you’re fine? drink a little more water just in case.”

𝜗𝜚 he would steal glances at you being happy rather than looking at the animals

𝜗𝜚 whenever you were stuck in a trance of awe he would come hug you from behind and plant soft kisses on your shoulder

𝜗𝜚 the soft touch of his lips against your bare shoulder always made you blush madly

𝜗𝜚 “ah Choji this was so much fun! I loved it.” you squealed as you embraced him in a huge hug

𝜗𝜚 he would respond to your hug by picking you up and spinning you around causing the two of you to giggle

𝜗𝜚 “thank you for the perfect date Choji, it was perfect.” you said softly at the end of the date kissing his cheek

𝜗𝜚 he would blush at your praise and cup your cheeks before placing a soft kiss on your lips, “anything for you.”

[buldakcorn]

Bask In The Glory

LOONA/LOOSSEMBLE Vivi x Male Characters

Genre : Gloryhole, Facial, Breeding, BBC, Cum-swallowing

5831 words

The scorching sun of Los Angeles kissed the pavement, making it almost too hot to touch. Vivi's bare legs stuck to the sticky sidewalk as she sauntered down the bustling street, her white tanktop clinging to her damp skin. Her skirt, short and flirty, danced with each step she took, revealing a hint of the black lace panties she had chosen for the day. Her long, wavy hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, showcasing her slender neck and delicate shoulders. The fabric of her top was thin enough to leave nothing to the imagination, showing her nipples as she didn't bother to wear a bra. The catcalls grew louder as she approached a construction site, the burly men pausing their work to appreciate the view she willingly provided. She reveled in the attention, a sly smile playing on her full lips as she tossed her hair back, her eyes sparkling with mischief. The sound of hammering and whistles grew into a symphony of male desire, and Vivi felt a thrill run through her. This was her game, and she played it well.

Turning a corner, Vivi's eyes locked onto a nondescript building that was almost invisible amidst the urban sprawl. Her heart quickened at the sight of it. This was where the real fun began. With a practiced twirl of her hips, she slipped through the shadowed alley at the back and approached the unassuming metal door, a stark contrast to the vibrant street life behind her. The back door, known to only a select few, was her secret passage into the world she craved. She took a deep breath, her chest rising and her nipples tightening further against the fabric of her tanktop. The anticipation was palpable. With a gentle push, the door swung open, revealing a dimly lit staircase that beckoned her with the promise of what awaited above.

The coolness of the stale air inside the building was a stark contrast to the heat outside, sending a shiver down Vivi's spine. She scanned the dimly lit corridor, her eyes adjusting to the shadows as the sounds of the city outside faded. The walls were lined with a series of stalls, each with a small, square opening at the bottom half, the very essence of anonymity. Her heart pounded in her chest as she approached the empty stall at the end of the hall, the 'Vacant' sign hanging askew. With a silent click, she locked the door behind her, the final barrier between her and the thrill she sought. The cramped space was a stark contrast to the grandiose stage she had walked earlier, but it was here she truly felt alive. She peeled off her skirt, revealing her wet black panties, and pulled her tanktop over her head, freeing her perky breasts. Vivi stepped out of her shoes and slid the lacy underwear down her legs, leaving them in a pile at her feet. She was now naked, ready to embrace the darkness and the unknown that awaited on the other side of the wall.

The moment the warm, firm flesh of the anonymous cock pushed through the opening, Vivi's breath hitched with excitement. Her delicate hand wrapped around the base, stroking it with a gentle, yet eager, touch. The cock was already thick and engorged, a silent testament to the power of her allure. She leaned closer, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum, her eyes fixed on the pulsing member. With the tip glistening in the faint light, she brought it to her lips and began to lick. From the velvety base to the sensitive, bulbous head, her tongue danced a sensual tango, tracing every vein and ridge. A soft groan echoed from the other side of the stall, spurring her on. The taste of pre-cum grew stronger as she worked her way back up, savoring the salty tang. With a devilish grin, she opened her mouth wide and took him in, her tongue swirling around the tip before she began to suck, the sound of her wet, hungry mouth filling the small space. Her other hand found her own dripping wet pussy, her fingers slipping inside with ease, matching the rhythm of her oral exploration. The anonymity of the act only served to heighten the thrill, the mystery man's desperate moans driving her closer to the edge of ecstasy.

With practiced ease, Vivi switched gears, her technique evolving from slow and sensual to fast and furious. Her hand gripped the shaft tighter as she quickened her pace, her head bobbing up and down with an urgency that made the stranger's hips buck against the wall. The wet sounds of her mouth grew louder, echoing through the alley as if to announce her expertise to the world outside. She pulled back, a string of saliva connecting her lips to the cock, and then plunged back down, taking him deep into her throat. The stranger's hands gripped the edges of the opening, his knuckles turning white as he fought to hold back his growing release. Vivi looked up, her eyes meeting his through the small gap, her pupils dilated with desire. She spat on the velvety head, watching as her saliva trickled down the shaft, mixing with the precum to form a glistening trail. A smirk played on her lips as she leaned in again, her mouth wide and eager, and took him back in, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked with renewed vigor. Strands of saliva fell from her mouth, painting her tits with a wet sheen that glistened in the dim light. The man's groans grew louder, his body tensing as he approached the brink of climax. Vivi's own pleasure mounted as she felt the pressure of his cock swelling within her mouth, her own juices coating her fingertips as she worked her clit in time with her sucking.

Vivi felt the anonymous cock throb in her mouth, a clear signal of the impending climax. Her pace quickened, her cheeks hollowing as she greedily sucked, eager to taste the sweet release she had coaxed from the stranger. With a muffled roar, he reached his peak, and she was met with the first hot spurt of cum that shot straight down her throat. She swallowed reflexively, the salty taste flooding her mouth as she took his entire load, feeling his cock pulse with every spasm. Some of the cum overflowed her mouth and painted her face and chest, the warmth of it making her nipples peak even more. With a final, powerful thrust, the man emptied himself into her willing throat, his hands now gripping the wall for support as his body shuddered with pleasure. Vivi pulled back, a trail of semen connecting her mouth to the now softening member, and let the remaining cum dribble out onto her tongue. She closed her eyes, savoring the flavor before opening her mouth, allowing the sticky strands to fall onto her heaving chest. The sound of his ragged breaths filled the small stall as he slowly regained his composure. She felt a sense of power, knowing that she had brought this stranger to the edge of pleasure, her own orgasm building steadily as she listened to the symphony of his aftermath.

As the hours ticked by, Vivi's body grew sticky with the remnants of countless encounters. The walls of the stall were a canvas of lust, painted with the evidence of her handiwork. Her jaw muscles had begun to ache from the relentless sucking, but she pushed through the fatigue, fueled by the adrenaline rush of each new anonymous cock that found its way through the opening. The current man was tall and thick, his girth stretching her lips and filling her mouth to the brim. Despite her jaw's protest, she maintained her rhythm, her hand still working her clit as if it had a life of its own. The taste of cum had become a familiar one, a flavor that grew more intoxicating with every passing minute. Each new groan, each new spurt of seed, brought her closer to her own climax. Her breasts, smeared with the sticky evidence of past conquests, heaved with every breath she took. The scent of sex permeated the stall, a heady mix of sweat, semen, and arousal that made her head spin. And yet, she was insatiable. With a glint in her eye and a hunger that never wavered, she continued to serve the endless parade of men, eager for each new mouthful of their desire. Her throat tightened around the cock in her mouth, her body trembling as the orgasm she had been chasing for hours finally crashed over her, sending waves of pleasure rippling through her core. The man grunted, his hips bucking as he too found release, adding to the sticky mess that coated her.

Vivi's eyes gleamed with a mix of satisfaction and hunger as she pulled back, her mouth open and inviting. His hips thrust forward, and she could feel his climax approaching like a freight train. With a wicked smile, she stroked him faster, her hand a blur as it glided up and down the shaft. His body tensed, and she knew the moment was upon them. The first hot spurt of cum shot from the tip of his cock, painting the inside of her mouth with a warm, salty stream. She reveled in the sensation, her eyes locked onto his cock as she opened her mouth to allow the rest of his load to spray onto her face, the warmth of it splattering across her cheeks and nose. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of his cum on her skin, her tongue darting out to catch any rogue droplets that had escaped. The man groaned with satisfaction, his hand relaxing its grip on the stall's opening as he finished. Vivi swallowed with a gulp, her throat constricting around the last bit of cum, and then leaned back against the wall, her breathing heavy and her body thrumming with the aftershocks of her own orgasm. She felt alive, her skin tingling with the excitement of the anonymous encounter, and she knew she was far from finished for the night.

"Who's next?"

Her eyes widened as a thick ebony monster filled the hole before her, the largest cock she had ever laid eyes on. It was a behemoth, a testament to nature's ability to create something so powerful and alluring. Her shock was only momentary, though, as the thrill of the challenge surged through her. The head was like a dark plum, veins pulsing along the length of the shaft, and it was glistening with anticipation. Vivi's hand hovered for a second, unsure of where to begin, before she wrapped her fingers around its base. It was so wide she could barely get a grip, but she was determined to conquer this beast. She took a deep breath, licked her lips, and leaned in, her heart racing like a caged animal ready to be unleashed. The stranger's cock twitched at her touch, and she felt a sense of triumph knowing she had this giant at her mercy. With a wicked smirk, she began her slow, deliberate descent, her mouth stretching to accommodate the girth as she took inch after inch of velvety heat. The man on the other side of the wall groaned, a deep rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very core of the building, and she knew she had him hooked. This was going to be a ride she would never forget.

Vivi's eyes watered as she fought to take in the massive length that stretched before her. It was a challenge she hadn't anticipated, one that sent a thrill through her body as she wrapped both hands around the base of the thick, dark shaft. Her jaw protested, but she was determined to conquer this new peak of pleasure. The man on the other side of the stall grunted his impatience, his hand guiding her movements with a roughness that only made her want to prove herself. She gagged slightly as the head of his cock pushed against the back of her throat, but she didn't pull back. Instead, she relaxed, letting the intrusion fill her completely, her hands working in unison with her mouth to create a symphony of sensation. Despite her best efforts, the cock remained unyielding, demanding more from her. She could feel his frustration as she struggled to deep-throat him, his hips pushing against the barrier that separated them, desperate for a deeper connection. Her eyes watered more, her throat strained, but she was unfazed. The thrill of the struggle, the raw, unbridled power of the situation had her pulse racing and her pussy dripping. The stranger's complaints only fueled her determination to satisfy him, to make him see just how skilled she truly was. And with a sudden surge of adrenaline, she managed to take him all in, her throat convulsing around his length as she swallowed his entire cock. His grip tightened, his moans grew more urgent, and she knew she had him where she wanted him. The battle was far from over, but she had claimed the first victory, her body buzzing with excitement at the prospect of what was to come.

After minutes have passed, the powerful climax washed over her like a storm, the man's cock jerking and pulsing as rope after rope of cum shot into her mouth and spattered across her face. She felt the warmth of his release coat her cheeks, her nose, and dribble down her chin as she struggled to keep up with the deluge. Her eyes watered uncontrollably, not just from the effort of taking such a massive cock but also from the intense satisfaction of watching the man lose control. With a final shudder, the anonymous cock retreated from the opening, leaving Vivi gasping for air, her face a sticky mess of cum. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a smile of triumph playing on her lips as she watched the last of him disappear from the stall. The man's ragged breaths slowly returned to normal, and she knew he was gone, leaving her to bask in the aftermath of their shared ecstasy. Vivi took a moment to catch her breath, her chest heaving, before the thrill of the unknown once again drew her eyes to the next opening in the wall, her body craving the next encounter. She licked her lips, her heart racing with excitement as she leaned in to see what, or who, awaited her next.

Suddenly, the locks of the doorknob was being pressured. The door to Vivi's stall swung open with a harsh creak, and there he stood, the very man whose monstrous cock she had just managed to conquer. His eyes were like embers in the dark, burning with a hunger that seemed insatiable even after his powerful release. He stepped into the cramped space, his muscular frame filling the room, the scent of their combined arousal thick in the air. Despite the sticky mess covering her, Vivi felt a fresh surge of excitement at the sight of his towering figure and his already-erect member. The thrill of the unexpected invaded her, mixing with the lingering taste of cum in her mouth. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and desire, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as she took in the sheer size of him. He reached out a hand, and without a word, she took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. The stranger's gaze never left hers as he stepped closer, his cock standing tall and proud, begging for her attention. Vivi's legs quivered slightly, but she didn't resist, instead leaning back against the cold wall, her breasts heaving with anticipation. The man leaned in, his breath hot against her neck, and whispered,

"You're not done yet, are you, little one?" His voice was a low, gravelly rumble that sent shivers down her spine, and she felt the unmistakable throb of her pussy in response. Her eyes never left his as she whispered back, "No, not even close."

With surprising strength, the man spun her around so that her back was pressed against his broad chest, her face mere inches from the cold, unyielding wall. His hands were everywhere, leaving a trail of fire across her skin. He squeezed one of her breasts, his rough fingers pinching her nipple and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. The sharp pleasure of his touch made her gasp, her eyes fluttering shut. At the same time, his other hand found her ass, and with a smack that echoed in the small stall, he slapped her firmly, leaving a red handprint that stung with the promise of more to come. His cock, still rock-hard and slick with the evidence of their earlier encounter, pressed against her folds. His breath was hot on her neck as he whispered, "You're going to take it all, aren't you?" His voice was a dark promise, a question that didn't require an answer. Vivi's body quivered with anticipation, her breathing shallow as she nodded, unable to find the words to express her eagerness.

With a grin that spoke of his dominance, the stranger lined up his cock with Vivi's soaking wet pussy. His grip on her hips was firm as he began to push forward, inch by agonizing inch. Her eyes squeezed shut, and a silent scream tore from her throat as she felt herself stretching to accommodate his massive length. The head of his cock nudged against her inner walls, and she bit her bottom lip, trying to hold back the sounds of pleasure that threatened to spill out. Her body resisted at first, unaccustomed to being filled so completely, but she was determined to take every last inch of him. He paused, giving her a moment to adjust before he continued his relentless invasion, each push sending waves of painful pleasure through her body. The sensation was overwhelming, her walls clenching around him as if trying to keep him out while simultaneously pulling him deeper. Her breasts flattened against the cold wall and his scorching hot skin making her skin tingle. His cock was a beast that demanded submission, and she was more than willing to give it what it craved.

Vivi's eyes widened with a mix of pleasure and pain as she felt the man's thick, velvet-covered steel fill her completely. The wall was cold and unforgiving against her breasts as she pushed back into him, her body moving in a dance of submission to the rhythm he dictated. Her pussy was stretched to the limits, the friction of his movements setting her nerves alight as she moaned deeply. His grip on her ponytail tightened, pulling her head back to expose her neck, and he took the opportunity to kiss and nibble at her sensitive flesh. Each slap of her ass against his thighs echoed through the stall, the sound a testament to his power and her willingness to take everything he had to give. Her hands clawed at the wall, leaving trails in the sticky residue of past encounters, as she held on for dear life. His strokes grew faster, more punishing, and she could feel her orgasm building again, a crescendo of sensation that threatened to drown her in its intensity. The stranger's breaths grew heavier, his grip tightened, and Vivi knew that she was close to reaching the pinnacle of pleasure she had been chasing all night.

The stranger whispered harsh, degrading comments into Vivi's ear, his voice a seductive taunt that sent shivers down her spine. "You're just a whore, aren't you?" he growled. "A dirty, cum-hungry slut who'll take any cock that comes your way." His words were like a dark symphony, each note striking a chord within her that made her wetter, more desperate for his touch. Instead of being repulsed, she found herself responding in kind, her own voice thick with lust as she murmured,

"Yes, I'm your whore. Your dirty, little slut. Use me, fill me up. Make me take it all." His grunts grew louder, his hips moving with more force, as she eagerly embraced her depraved role. The sound of their slapping flesh and her whimpers of pleasure grew to a crescendo, the alley outside forgotten in the throes of their carnivorous desire. With each thrust, he claimed her, marking her as his own, and she reveled in the filth of it all, her voice a siren's call of depravity that seemed to fuel his lust even more. "I'm nothing but your cumdumpster," she panted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Your cock is so big, so perfect, I can't get enough." His response was a feral groan as he drove into her harder, his hands digging into her flesh as if trying to claim her very soul. The degradation only served to amplify the intensity of their union, each word a drop of gasoline thrown onto the fire of their passion.

Vivi had never felt so alive, so wanted, so utterly used, and she craved more, her voice growing stronger as she begged for his release. "Fuck me like you own me," she cried, her nails raking down the wall. "Cum inside me, fill me up like the slut I am!" His grip on her hips tightened, and she knew he was close, his cock swelling even further within her, the pressure building as they both raced toward the edge of oblivion.

Vivi's body convulsed with the intensity of her orgasm, her pussy clenching around the stranger's thick shaft, milking him for every ounce of pleasure he had to give. Her legs trembled uncontrollably, her knees threatening to buckle beneath the weight of her ecstasy. The sound of her wetness filled the stall as her juices dripped down her thighs, mixing with the sticky mess of cum that already coated them. The man's breath grew ragged in her ear, his own climax approaching like a freight train. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, his cock swelling even further within her tight, clenching walls. Vivi felt the warmth of his cum flood her pussy, filling her to the brim, as his grip on her hips tightened, his body shuddering with the force of his release. His growl of satisfaction was a vibration that resonated through her, sending aftershocks of pleasure rippling through her core. She could feel him pulsing inside her, the warmth of his cum painting her inner walls. The sensation was almost too much to handle, and she leaned back against his broad chest, her body limp and trembling from the overwhelming experience. For a brief moment, the only sounds were their mingled breaths and the faint echoes of their passion that seemed to hang in the air like a tangible presence. Then, with a shudder, the stranger pulled out, leaving Vivi gasping and spent, her pussy gaping open, still quivering from the sheer size of the cock that had just ravished her.

The stranger's touch was firm, yet gentle, as he laid her down on the grimy stall floor, her sticky skin sliding against the cold, hard surface. Vivi's legs felt like jelly, but she eagerly complied as he lifted one of her legs, exposing her to the chill of the air. The tip of his cock, still slick from her pussy, nudged at her entrance, and she bit her lip, bracing for the next round of pleasure. He slammed into her from behind with a ferocity that took her breath away, filling her completely once more. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she felt his massive cock stretch her to the limits, his length sliding in and out with a rhythm that was both punishing and deliciously satisfying. Vivi's hand found her clit, her fingers working in time with his thrusts as she chased the high that had only just begun to fade. The friction was exquisite, the sound of their bodies slapping together a symphony of lust that seemed to resonate through the very walls of the alley. She could feel her orgasm building again, a coil of pleasure tightening in her belly, demanding release. The stranger's grip on her leg was unyielding, his hips pistoning as he claimed her from behind, his deep grunts of pleasure a constant reminder of who was in control. The world outside had faded away, and all that remained was the two of them, lost in the dark embrace of the stall, their bodies joined in a dance of pure, unbridled desire.

"Oh, fuck!" Vivi screamed, her voice bouncing off the walls of the stall. "I'm gonna cum again!" Her words were a desperate plea, a declaration of the unbearable pleasure that was building within her. Her fingers danced over her clit with a frenzied passion, the stranger's relentless pounding pushing her closer and closer to the edge. The man's hand wasn't idle as he squeeze her boobs. She could feel her pussy clenching around his cock, her walls pulsing in time with her racing heartbeat. The alley outside might as well have ceased to exist, as the only reality was the one they had created in this cramped, sticky space. The smell of sex and sweat was thick in the air, a heady scent that seemed to drive them both to new heights of ecstasy. "Yes, baby," the man grunted, his voice a low, guttural rumble. "Cum for me, you filthy little whore. Show me how much you love this dick." His words were like a final nudge, and Vivi's orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, her body arching off the floor, her toes curling, her nails digging into the concrete as she was consumed by the intensity of it all. She came hard, her pussy spasming around his thick length, her juices mixing with his previous collection of cum to create a deliciously depraved mess. The stranger didn't stop, though, his thrusts growing even more frenzied as he chased his own release, her cries of pleasure only serving to push him further. Vivi's climax seemed to last an eternity, her body trembling uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

"I'm not done yet, baby," the man chuckled darkly, his voice a seductive rumble that seemed to resonate within Vivi's very core. He released himself from her body and laid flat on the cold, sticky floor of the stall, his towering black cock standing tall and proud, a testament to his unquenchable desire. Despite her exhaustion, Vivi felt a fresh wave of excitement wash over her at the sight. His instruction was clear: she was to straddle him, to take charge of her own pleasure. She hovered over his impressive length, her pussy still pulsing from the relentless pounding she had endured, and took a moment to admire the sheer size of him from this new angle. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached down, her fingertips ghosting over the velvety head of his cock, tracing the veins that stood out like roads on a map to bliss.

"You're going to ride me now," he told her, his eyes never leaving hers. "Take every inch, let me ruin your tight little cunt." The words were a challenge, a promise of pleasure and pain intertwined, and she found herself eager to accept. With a smirk that spoke of her own brand of power, she lowered herself onto him, feeling the head of his cock nudge against her entrance, which was still stretched and sensitive from their earlier escapade. "Are you gonna strech my pussy hard? You're going to breed me full of cum?" she asked, her voice a sultry purr. "Fuck yes," he growled, his eyes blazing with a hunger that seemed to match her own. "I'm going to fill you up with so much cum, you'll feel it leaking out of you for days." The thought sent a delicious shiver down her spine, and she didn't need any more encouragement. With a gasp, she sank down onto him, her body enveloping his cock once more, the feeling of fullness making her eyes roll back in her head.

Vivi straddled the stranger, her legs shaking with the effort of taking his massive cock once more. Her pussy felt stretched to its limits, a feeling she found oddly satisfying as she began to ride him with all the passion of a wild stallion. Her boobs bounced with each bounce, and she watched in the dim light as they danced before her, covered in a mix of sweat and cum. The man's eyes were glued to them, his hands reaching up to cup and squeeze the soft flesh, his thumbs flicking over her sensitive nipples. The sensation was electrifying, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her clit as she began to move faster, her wetness making the whole act slick and obscene. She leaned back, her hands on his muscular thighs for balance, her body moving in a wanton rhythm that seemed to drive him wild. The sound of their flesh slapping together grew louder, echoing through the stall, as she took him deeper with every bounce. His grip on her tits tightened, his fingers digging into the flesh, and she could feel the beginnings of another orgasm building, her pussy contracting around his thick shaft. She threw her head back, her hair cascading down her back like a dark waterfall, her mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy as she felt herself being stretched and filled like never before. Each movement sent waves of pleasure through her, making her moan and grind down on him harder. She was in heaven, her body a vessel for his desires, and she didn't care who heard them.

"Oh, fuck, you're so big," Vivi gasped, her eyes wide with amazement as she felt him fill her completely, his cock touching places she didn't even know existed. "You're so deep inside me," she moaned, her voice thick with lust. She bounced up and down on his massive shaft, her walls stretching and clenching around him, the sensation bordering on pain but oh-so-deliciously pleasurable. His size was overwhelming, and she reveled in the feeling of being so utterly filled, so completely owned by his cock. She threw her head back, her hair brushing against the grimy stall wall, and let out a guttural moan that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul. Her breasts jiggled with each movement, and she watched in the dim light as his hands roamed over her body, his fingers pinching her sensitive nipples, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. The stranger's eyes never left hers, a dark, primal hunger in their depths that only served to drive her wild. "You like that, don't you?" he grunted, his voice deep and commanding. "You like feeling this big black cock in your tight, little pussy?" Vivi could only nod, her breaths coming in short, sharp pants as she rode him harder, eager to feel every inch of his length. His girth was unyielding, stretching her in a way she never thought possible, and she knew she would be sore tomorrow. But in this moment, all she cared about was the here and now, the raw, unbridled passion that was consuming them both in the sticky embrace of the alley's shadows.

"Oh God, yes!" Vivi exclaimed as the stranger's hands slid from her breasts to her ass, cupping and squeezing her cheeks as he used them to pull her down onto his thick, pulsing cock. The change in angle sent bolts of pleasure shooting through her, and she knew she was seconds away from another mind-shattering orgasm. "Fuck me harder!" she begged, her voice a desperate whine that seemed to spur him on. His grip tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he began to slam into her with a ferocity that had her vision swimming. Each thrust hit her g-spot with unerring precision, her pussy spasming around him, her juices dripping down his shaft to mix with the cum that already coated her thighs. The head of his cock was a brand of fire inside her, stretching her tight channel and filling her with a pressure that was both painful and exquisite. She felt herself tightening, her body preparing for the inevitable explosion of ecstasy that was about to consume her. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!" she screamed, the words echoing through the stall like a battle cry. The man's eyes bore into hers, a primal hunger that seemed to feed on her desperation. His hips bucked up to meet her, his thrusts growing even more powerful, as if he too could feel her orgasm building. "Come for me, slut," he grunted, his voice a guttural growl that seemed to resonate through her very soul. And with that, she did. Her body arched, her back bowed, as a scream was ripped from her throat, the force of her climax sending her hurtling over the edge. Her pussy clamped down around his cock, her muscles rippling with the intensity of her release, and she felt him tense beneath her, his cock swelling even further as he reached his peak. With a roar, he emptied himself into her, filling her to the brim with his hot, sticky cum, his hips jerking as he pumped her full of his seed. Vivi's body went limp, her pussy still spasming around his shaft, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she rode the waves of pleasure that crashed over her. For a moment, she could do nothing but lay there, her body a trembling mess, as she reveled in the aftermath of their depraved union.

Vivi collapsed onto the man's broad chest, her body boneless and slick with sweat and cum. She could feel his heart racing beneath her, a rhythm that matched the erratic beat of her own. His cock slipped from her, leaving a warm trail of his seed to trickle down her thighs, pooling on the cold, sticky floor. The sound of his labored breaths filled her ears, his chest rising and falling in a testament to the exertion of their encounter. She lay there, panting and trembling, her body still quivering with the aftershocks of the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced. The stranger's hands slid up her body, caressing her sweat-drenched skin as she lay sprawled across him, her pussy still pulsing from the relentless pounding it had endured. They remained in this intimate embrace, basking in the afterglow of their shared pleasure, until the world outside slowly began to creep back in. And as Vivi's breathing steadied, she knew that she would never forget the feel of his massive cock inside her, the way he had claimed her so completely, and the power she had wielded in return.

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First time posting on Tumblr. I still don't know how this works honestly.

[little-diable]

DIABLE. I feel your lack of inspiration deep within my soul as I, too, have been struggling.

That being said, I'm back on my Cillian Murphy bullshit and would love to see some domestic Tommy, maybe after a really long day of blood and gore he comes home to a plush world of softness and love and consideration and he can turn it all off.

My darling, thank you for sending this in, it definitely inspired me! I hope you enjoy this little drabble. <3

Summary: Tommy will always do what his wife asks of him, especially when he needs a few calm moments himself.

Warnings: nothing, just nudity, full on fluff and fun

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (about 800 words)

Somewhat of a follow up Drabble

It was a mild August evening, a day that had been too hot for (y/n)’s liking which had passed all too slowly. Perhaps it had been the fault of all the running around she had done – whatever it was, the second the kids had been put to sleep, she had told their staff to leave for the night, desperate for a few hours of silence.

The second she had been left alone, (y/n) had hurried outside, shoes long forgotten as she dragged the old, ceramic tub through the garden. Sweat had pooled on her forehead, forming pearly drops that dripped down to the ground, but she had been determined, set on cooling off while watching the sunset.

She had run back and forth to fill the tub, arms and legs begging her to slow down and rest for a minute or two. But (y/n) hadn’t stopped moving until the tub had been filled to her liking. And with a satisfied grin glued to her lips, she had shuffled out of her dress, underwear following moments later.

Her squeals had echoed through the evening as she had sunken into the cold water, unable to stop her laughter from clawing through her. She had been grateful that nobody else was around, they surely would have called her a hysteric madwoman, calling the doctors on her for the childish glee the cold water had shot through her veins.

(Y/n) was too focused on the sunset to hear the call of her name, she was also too distracted to pick up on the confused expression tugging on Tommy’s features as he spotted her through the windows. With a cigarette between his lips, he slowly stepped outside, undoing the buttons of his jacket as he moved closer.

“What a nice view to come home to, eh?” She jerked in surprise as Tommy spoke up, forcing her wide eyes towards her grinning husband. Tommy’s gaze wandered down her throat, watching the water drops stick to her soft skin. The water was clear enough to expose every inch of her body, leaving Tommy groaning as he dipped his head down to kiss her. “Tell me, how did that tub end up right here?”

“Well, what do you think? I doubt the faeries miraculously carried it over here.” A deep rumble of laughter vibrated through Tommy, momentarily reminded of the stories he had read to their children the night prior, feeding their obsession with faeries and mystical creatures. “Will you just stand there or join me like a good husband would?”

Tommy watched her for another moment before he threw his cigarette to the ground and began to shrug out of his clothes, exposing his body inch by inch. (Y/n) pulled her knees to her chest to make room behind herself, grinning in excitement as he began to step into the tub.

“Fucking hell, do you want me to freeze my cock off?” His curses left her giggling, eyes sparkling with mischief. But Tommy kept on moving with curses rolling off his tongue, till he finally got into a seated position. He pulled her against his chest with a hum, pressing a kiss to her cold cheek. 

“How was your day?” (Y/n) murmured her words, eyes closed, head resting against Tommy’s shoulder. He interlaced his fingers with hers, letting his thumb run over the back of her hand with slow movements. 

“Exhausting, sometimes I wonder if I’m still made for this life. I’m getting old, eh?” She froze in his grasp, let her eyes shoot open and slowly turned towards him. Her eyes wandered over Tommy’s exhausted features, instantly able to pick up on the hurt flushing through him, the anger he couldn’t shake, and the greedy desperation he had never been able to feed well enough. 

(Y/n) cupped his cheek, she pressed a kiss to his lips before she began to speak up, “You’re anything but old, dear husband of mine. And trust me, if I’d feel like you’re getting old, I’d instantly sell you to the faeries.” 

Loud laughter rumbled through him, a sound so carefree, (y/n) hadn’t heard it in a long time. And with a widening grin stuck to her lips, (y/n) pressed another kiss to Tommy's lips, knowing that their evening together was just about to get exciting.

[berriwritertingz]

the summer i wrote | one

content: future smut, fluff, angst, basically all of it

pairing: milo manheim x afab!reader & ross lynch x afab!reader

summary: every summer, you travel to dahlia's beach to reunite with your mother's closest friend and her son. but this year he unexpectedly brings a friend along. caught in the gentle waves of affection and longing, you find yourself navigating uncharted waters where the boundaries of friendship blur.

notes: this is loosely based on the summer i turned pretty. i just watched the second season and lawwwd i wanted to make a ff soo bad. plus milo and ross have absolutely none anywhere.

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You loved Dahlia's beach. It always smelled salty with a hint of expensive barbeque if you were in the city. But near the countryside there was the sweet smell of honeysuckle. That's where you would rather be, where the tall grass met the sandy dunes. The sounds of hooves on pavement and bustle around the farmers market on a hot weekend afternoon.

This summer was no different. Your stomach churned, rumbling in excitement as you neared the beach house. It was huge. Five bedrooms with enough bathrooms. Too many patios surrounding it. Turquoise colored pool with a small waterfall. The house was a blueish gray color with white accents. Calm and minimalistic, much unlike the other grand colorful houses on the street. It sat like a diamond around other stones in a non normal way. The most priceless of them all. Placed directly in front of the beach but not close enough to tourist spots so it was always quiet. It was always such an amazing way to spend the three months in between school. You looked forward to it every year.

But that wasn't all you looked forward to.

Your mom honked as you guys entered the driveway. A wide smile plastered on her face. Your mom seemed to love this place more than she loved you, even if she denied it when you asked. You knew the truth. Summers at the beach house were the only time she got to see her best friend, Camryn.

"Hey!" A voice squealed from the porch. You shuffled out of the car, legs aching after a long 5 hours. As you stretched you were met with Cam, arms spread jumping for joy. Practically knocking you over. They were best friends from high school. Going to college together and even sharing a dorm room. With how they acted every time they met, you were convinced they had separation anxiety. They didn't get to see each other throughout the year. Other than here of course. For they lived states apart, Dahlia's being a quiet beach town that was located in the middle.

Camryn engulfed you in a bear hug first, gushing about how pretty you are. Making you do a spin in your dress. Once she pulled away she did the same to your mom whose high pitched voice could be heard from the beach. As they talked about how ‘different’ each other looked. You watched as they walked inside hand in hand when your eyes met his.

Milo.

He radiantly smiled as he trotted over to you. The classic hands in pockets, ruffled hair, and expensive glasses. It was like he had a glow up every year whether it was him dressing better or maybe getting a bit taller.

"Hi" He cooed embracing you in a tight hug. The smell of his overpriced cologne filled your nose. It reminded you of sugary trees and cool waves. Much like the beach house. He was another reason you loved the beach house so much. Without him you were stuck with two middle aged ladies whose celebrity crush was Liam Neeson and only watched tv shows made by Shonda Rhimes. He was fun. He never made you feel left out or alone. He was everything any girl could wish for. Tall, smart, rich, and incredibly good eye candy.

"Hello, Milo." You smiled as he let you go.

He ran a hand threw his hair looking down at you. Eyes trailing down your body strangely. His expression was unrecognizable. Your face heated up turning your head to avoid his gaze. He touched the bottom of your dress. Yanking the fabric gently.

"This is a little short isn't it?" He questioned eyes meeting yours. Lips curled up in a sly smile. Rolling your eyes you scoffed slapping his hand away. He acted like a big brother sometimes. Especially with your clothes. Every summer complaining about how short your shorts were or how revealing your bathing suit was.

"Oh shut up you do this every-" The sight of someone else on the porch caught your eye. "Who's that?" You questioned raising an eyebrow.

Milo turned around and nodded in acknowledgement as the boy made his way down the stairs. Bleached blond hair slightly overgrown and wide smile on display as he made his way towards you two.

"Y/N this is Ross, Ross Y/N. He's staying the summer with us this year." Ross reached his hand out to you. Clad in silver rings that looked a bit out of your price range. Does Milo have any Middle Class friends? It was unusual. No one ever came to the beach house from back home. It was like a unsaid rule between everyone. Written in big red letters 'No Strangers'. The dads didn't even bother coming even though Milo's paid for it.

"Nice to meet you." He looked you up and down a tongue swiping over his lips. "Milo didn't tell me how pretty you are."

"Dude!" Milo exclaimed punching his shoulder rolling his eyes.

"Thank you." You beamed softening your voice. Milo scoffed walking towards the trunk slightly bumping into Ross. But he didn't seem to mind, hazel eyes still trained on you.

"So where are you fr-" Ross was cut off by a slightly pissed off Milo. "Are you guys serious? C'mon Ross help me with these bags." Ross walked away backwards eyes still focused on you with that addicting smile of his.

"See you inside?" He whispered loud enough for you to hear him.

You didn't respond. Only nodding as you strolled inside.

a/n: soooo what do you guys think? im still trying to figure out this tumblr writing stuff im so used to just reading ive never written and posted anything on here lololol. pls be patient with me! a few tips and tricks would be greatly appreciated!!

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[hunkpossession0]

From Park to Penthouse: My Life as a Bear Hunk

I was just a regular guy, trying to make ends meet and get through life. My days consisted of the usual routine: wake up, work a mundane job, come home, rinse, and repeat. Nothing exciting ever really happened to me. But all of that changed on a cool, crisp morning in the park.

I usually took early morning walks just to clear my mind. The park was quiet at that time, the only sounds being birds chirping and the occasional jogger’s footsteps echoing through the trees. That’s when I saw him—*the* guy everyone always seemed to notice, the bear hunk who owned the park every time he stepped foot in it.

He was the kind of guy who commanded attention without even trying. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a perfect layer of muscle covering every inch of his frame. His chest and arms bulged as he did his push-ups effortlessly, and even his sweat seemed to gleam like it had a purpose. His beard was thick, well-groomed, and his face was one of those ruggedly handsome ones you’d expect to see in some magazine cover.

I envied him—his body, his confidence, the way people looked at him with a mix of admiration and lust. It wasn’t fair. Why did he get to live such a charmed life while I was stuck being an average nobody?

As I walked closer, I saw something strange lying near a bench—an old, weathered medallion with strange symbols carved into it. It looked ancient, almost mystical. I don’t know what compelled me to pick it up, but as soon as I did, I felt a surge of energy pulse through my body. It was like electricity, but not painful—more like a powerful vibration that filled every cell in my body.

Then, without warning, everything went black.

---

When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the grass, staring up at the sky. I sat up, feeling oddly different. My body felt... heavier, stronger. I looked down and nearly jumped out of my skin. My once-skinny arms were now thick and muscular, covered in a light dusting of hair. My clothes were straining against my newly massive frame.

I reached up to feel my face, and instead of the usual smoothness, my hand met a thick, rugged beard. I scrambled to my feet, stumbling slightly as I tried to adjust to the new weight and power in my legs. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in a nearby pond, and my breath caught in my throat.

I was *him*. The bear hunk.

Somehow, that medallion had switched our bodies. I was no longer the average guy who blended into the background. I was the man everyone noticed—the man everyone *wanted*.

---

It took a few days to get used to my new life, but I quickly adapted. As it turned out, the bear hunk wasn’t just a regular gym-goer; he was wealthy beyond belief. His penthouse apartment overlooked the city, and his wardrobe was filled with designer clothes that clung perfectly to my new body. Everywhere I went, people stared, admired, and envied me.

But I wasn’t satisfied with just looking good and being rich. I had a new plan—one that involved indulging in all the pleasures that my new life had to offer. I booked a luxurious vacation to a private resort, a place where the elite went to unwind and let loose. And, of course, where the hot twinks flocked to for a chance at living the good life, even if just for a weekend.

The resort was everything I could have hoped for. The sun was warm, the drinks were cold, and the pool was filled with gorgeous guys who couldn’t take their eyes off me. I’d catch their stares as I lounged by the water, flexing my muscles just enough to make them bite their lips in desire.

At night, the real fun began. The clubs were filled with twinks looking for someone just like me—someone who could take control and show them a good time. And I was more than happy to oblige. I could see the way their eyes lit up when I approached them, how they practically melted under my touch.

This was the life I’d always wanted, the life I deserved. No more being overlooked or ignored. Now, I was the one in control, the one who got to choose.

The medallion was now a distant memory, tucked away in the back of a drawer in my penthouse. I had no intention of going back to my old life. This was who I was now, and I wasn’t about to give it up. Not when there were so many more adventures to be had, so many more twinks to seduce.

As I stood on the beach, looking out at the endless ocean, I couldn’t help but smile. Life as a bear hunk was everything I had dreamed of and more. And it was just getting started.

[moonchild9350]

Sign The Dotted Line (Chapter One)

Series Summary: You are an ordinary person, working an ordinary job, nothing too special until you come across an ad for an application to become the new company assignment girlfriend of Lee Minho. You take the chance to apply and what happens next changes your life forever.

Pairing: idol Minho x fab reader

Genre (series as a whole): fluff, angst, smut-18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings (this chapter): none

Notes: Welcome to the Sign the Dotted Line series! I'm super excited to release the first chapter! Don't worry, Minho makes an appearance but it'll be much later in the chapters.

New Chapters will be released on Saturdays at 1pm CST.

If you'd like to join the tag list (for this series or general) let me know! (age must be in bio or pinned to be added).

If you like this fic, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

Next | Series Masterlist

You remember exactly where you were the day you got the email, what you were doing, how it felt outside. You remember exactly how you were feeling the day your life changed forever.

“Hmmm what should I wear to tonight?” You asked your friend Lexi. You were having a tough time picking out an outfit, both you and your friend planning to go out tonight. You both had a tough week at work, deadlines were approaching to secure a major deal and tensions were high. Now it was Friday, Lexi suggesting you both go out to take your minds off work. Of course you agreed, needing any type of distraction you could get.

“Wear that crop top with your leather skirt,” Lexi said, pulling out the clothes from your closet.

You took the outfit, agreeing with her choice. Slipping it on, you stopped in front of the mirror, making sure everything was in place. Lexi made her way to you, phone in hand.

“Selfie time!” Lexi shouted, you covering your ears at her outburst. You giggled and posed, Lexi taking multiple pictures of the two of you. Lexi’s phone dinged, notifying her that the ride share was here. You grabbed your phone and bag and followed your friend out the door, walking to and sliding into the car.

The night was filled with fun. You both danced the night away, work completely forgotten. You did have a drink or two…or four, your head fuzzy but not enough to not know where you were or make a fool of yourself. Your feet were started to hurt, the combination of hours of non-stop dancing and heels taking its toll on your poor feet. You both decided to finish dancing to the song playing and then leave.

Lexi ordered another ride share, both of you waiting outside. The fresh air was refreshing, a slight breeze blowing to cool you off. You browsed your phone, clearing out your notifications. As you were waiting, you visited your favorite band Stray Kids website, looking for any new updates. There was one new notice, asking for applications to be considered to become Lee Minho’s girlfriend. You blinked your eyes once, twice, and then read the notice again, in disbelief at the ad. This was a prank. Yes, most definitely a prank played by the company.

Tapping Lexi’s shoulder, you showed her the ad. “What?! Is this real?” She shrieked.

“Looks like it,” you said, a frown on your face. You loved Minho, he was your bias after all. How cool would it be to become his girlfriend? It’s not like you haven’t imagined this exact scenario in your dreams.

Lexi was scrolling through the notice before handing you back your phone. “You need to apply!” She said while winking at you.

“Hell no!” You said. “I’d never be picked. I mean look at me! Why would THE Lee Minho want to date me?”

“Because you’re hot as fuck,” Lexi responded laughing. “It won’t hurt. Worst case scenario is you’d never hear back from them.”

You considered your friend’s statement. She was right. Why not take the leap of faith and apply. It would be a dream come true after all. “Ok, I’ll do it,” you said right as the ride share pulled up.

“That’s my girl,” Lexi said getting in the car before you. You looked out the window the whole ride back to your place, thinking about what you were about to do. Once inside, you changed into some more comfy clothes and slipped into bed, Lexi following suit as she was staying over. You pulled up the notice once more, reading it over.

“What is it asking for?” Lexi asked, leaning over your shoulder to get a closer look.

“Besides basic information like name, birthday, they want to know my occupation, family history, of course where I live, and a background check. They’re asking more information too. It’s like they want my whole life story,” you said nervously chuckling.

“Well makes sense doesn’t it?” Lexi said yawning. “They have to make sure whoever they pick isn’t a pyscho.”

It did make sense. I’m sure they only wanted the best for Minho. Someone who could withstand dating an idol, but also probably for Minho’s safety too. You started filling out the information they wanted, hoping even just a little that you would be considered. It took you a little over an hour to finish the application in its entirety. You let out a breath after submitting the application. You looked over at Lexi to let her know you were done, but noticed she was passed out, little snores coming from her mouth as she slept.

You set your phone on its charger and turned out the lights, settling in for the night. There’s no way they would choose you let alone consider you. Right?

You felt something hit your nose again and again. You scrunched up your nose, eyes fluttering open to identify what had disturbed you from your slumber…or more so who had disturbed you. You opened your eyes to see Lexi hovering above you, booping your nose with her finger.

“Wake up,” she said as she kept booping your nose.

“Ok, ok I’m up. “ you groaned, swiping her hand away and rubbing your eyes. You sat up in bed, letting out a yawn. Lexi handed you a cup of coffee fixed exactly how you liked it. You graciously grabbed the cup, taking a sip before cradling it in your hands.

“So, did you submit the application? Am I looking at the girlfriend of Lee Minho?” She asked smirking.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not going to be Minho’s girlfriend. There’s so many other people out there that would be better for him.”

Lexi scoffed, “please, you’d be perfect for him. Don’t put yourself down.”

You just shrugged, getting out of bed to get ready for the day. After getting dressed, you took your cup and went to sit in the living room. You checked your email, looking for any word from the company. You were trying not to get your hopes up. There’s no way they would choose you. Not in a million years.

The rest of the weekend passed, your days spent at home relaxing, and preparing yourself for another hell week at work. You hated this job with a passion, sitting at your desk all day, discussing projects and sitting in meetings. You wanted to quit, but the pay was great, allowing you to live in a decent area in town. But if someone offered you another position, you would take it in a heart beat, getting away from the constant stress and toxic workplace.

The beginning of the week came and went by quickly, your days spent at work, just to come home, eat, and pass out from exhaustion. You only had to get through one more day and then you were off. You had been checking your email daily, multiple times per day at that, looking to see if you had any emails in regard to the little application you submitted over the weekend. Each time you checked however, your hopes were squashed, your email only being filled with spam.

You made dinner, and sat in the couch propping your feet up. You let out a sigh before digging in. You went back to your phone, scrolling through social media. After eating, you sat down your plate and settled in to watch tv. The night went on, you dozing off after a hard day.

You woke up with a start, looking around to see where you were before realizing you were safe at home. Rubbing your eyes, you got up from the couch and walked to your bedroom and got into bed. you checked your phone before setting it down for the night and noticed you had a new email. The title was in Korean and your breath hitched a little. Clicking on the email, you held your breath as you read the words in front of you.

They wanted to interview you tomorrow if possible before advancing you further in the process. Looking at the time they requested would be right toward the end of your work day. You’d have to step away for the video chat. You were more than happy to do so. You replied with a yes and set your phone down, closing your eyes to sleep and dream of the possibilities in your future .

The next morning, Lexi stopped by, coffee in hand so you could go to work together. You were giddy, practically bouncing on your feet, as you scampered through your apartment to finish getting ready for work. Your friend noticed something was up. You were never this happy to go to work or this happy in the morning period.

“Ok, what gives? Why are you so happy?” Your friend asked you, watching as you turned away to hide your face. You continued fixing your lunch, a smile on your face.

“So I checked my email last night before bed and um I got an email from the company asking to do a video interview today. “ you continued to prep your lunch, waiting for your friend’s reaction.

“Holy shit really?” She said, clapping her hands in excitement. “See I told you! You’re a catch, I knew they’d be interested.” You turned to face Lexi, a huge grin on your face.

“What time is the interview?”

“8am Korea time so 6pm our time. I’ll be working late today, so I’ll have to find somewhere to sit for the interview.”

Lexi nodded, “well you could always use the conference room. It’ll be empty by then.”

You shook your head in agreement. Making sure you had all your stuff for the day, you looked at friend and said, “ready?”

Lexi sighed, “no not really, but don’t have a choice do I?”

You grinned, grabbing your keys, “nope!”

Work was hell per usual, your day filled with answering calls and working on projections. You were stressed, every client you dealt with today must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, because everyone was pissy. But, the hours dragged on, the office buzzing as everyone worked on their various projects.

It was getting closer to 6pm so you grabbed your laptop and pulled up the video invite, making sure everything was ready for when the time comes. Satisfied, you picked up the laptop and made your way to the conference room, shutting the door behind you. You took a seat and made sure everything looked ok around you as well as made sure your outfit was fixed, wanting to make a good impression. At least you could look good if nothing else.

You logged in and waited for whoever to enter the meeting room. At exactly 6pm, someone popped up on screen. She was really pretty, long black hair cascading down past her shoulders, with light makeup on to accentuate her features. She smiled at you before speaking in Korean. Shit, you thought, you didn’t know anything in Korean besides hello and I love you.

You felt stupid as you politely stopped her before saying, “Im sorry, I don’t speak Korean.”

She looked taken aback for a moment. Great, you thought. She’s probably thinking why would you apply for this if you couldn’t even speak the language. You felt your face getting hot, embarrassed at this setback. However, the woman just smiled and apologized, this time in English. You let out a breath, happy that she didn’t think you were crazy…at least she didn’t show it.

Despite the little hiccup in the beginning, the rest of the interview went well. She asked you a ton of questions about yourself and your personality. She also inquired about your job and asked about details for that. You felt exposed, sharing things that even your best friend would most likely not know. She also asked you how you deal with pressure, which you answered to the best of your ability. You had some experience with how to deal with pressure in your current job, so it was helpful when you came up with a response for her. She also ran through scenarios with you, such as what would you do if people spoke not so kindly about you online or what would you do if paparazzi came up to you and started asking questions about Stray Kids. Of course you had no experience with this type of situation, so you just came up with the best answer you could, answering as truthfully as you could.

For over an hour, you sat there and answered question after question. At the end of the interview, she informed you they would run a thorough background check on you and would notify you if they want you to proceed. You thanked her for her time and said goodbye, shutting your laptop and leaning back in your chair. You took a deep breath and let it out, happy that was over with. That was more nerve wracking than the interview you had for your current job.

You gathered your stuff and exited the conference room, making your way back to your cubicle. Lexi was sitting in your chair waiting for you, no doubt ready to ask you how the interview went. You shook your head indicating not here and packed up your stuff to go home. Lexi got the hint and nodded, leaving to go pack her stuff up as well. You both left the building, making your way to the subway.

After walking a while you told Lexi all that occurred during the interview, how you were asked lots of questions and what she told you before ending the call.

“Whew, that’s a lot y/n. I get it though. She has to know your whole life story if you’re going to go on to date an idol.”

You nodded, agreeing with your friend. You secretly hoped you would get to the next step, but only time would tell. You parted ways with Lexi once you got to your stop, saying goodbye. You were happy it was the weekend as you were more than ready to do nothing and just rot on the couch.

Once back home, you got ready for bed, snuggling into your blankets, happy to be home. You closed your eyes and dreamed of sweet dates with a man, holding hands while walking down the street, going on picnics with him. The man was Minho, your mind already keen on the idea of dating him. You slept soundly that night, content with your dreams.

The weekend passed quickly, as they often do. It was Sunday night once again, and you were cleaning up your apartment, when you got a notification on your phone. You picked up your phone to check it, thinking it was probably Lexi, but you noticed it was a new email. You opened up the notification, quickly skimming over the contents of said email. What you read made you drop the towel you were holding. You read and then reread the email.

They picked you. You were to be Minho’s girlfriend. You were in shock, but also super happy. You did a little dance around your apartment, too happy to stay still. After a mini celebration, you called Lexi to share the good news. She was ecstatic for you, joining in on your celebration.

“So what’s next? What do you have to do?” Lexi asked once you both calmed down some.

“It looks like I have to fly out to Korea in 2 weeks to officially start my role…” your voice fading out with the realization how soon that would be. You would have to put your notice in for your job tomorrow and start packing up your stuff. It was definitely going to be a busy two weeks.

“Well you know I’ll help you. Damn, that means you’ll be in a whole other country.” Lexi said. “I’ll miss my bestie.”

“I’ll miss you too! But we can always talk and video chat!”

Lexi agreed, “you better!”

You chatted with your friend for a little longer before hanging up to get ready for bed. It was a normal workday tomorrow after all. You could hardly sleep though that night, your brain stuck on the fact that your life was about to drastically change in the next few weeks.

The day had arrived for your flight to Korea. Lexi went with you to the airport to see you off. You gave her a big hug. You were going to miss your friend, but would try to fly her out so she could visit once you were settled.

“Let me know when you land ok?” Lexi said. Her eyes were glossy and you could tell she was trying not to cry. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“Me too,” you said, trying not to cry yourself.

Right then, an announcement overhead announced that your flight would be boarding soon. You sighed, giving your friend one last big hug, before grabbing your bags and walking to the gate to board. Once your ticket was scanned, you looked at your friend once more and gave her a wave before walking down ramp to get to the plane. This is it. You were really going to Korea to date an idol. You settled in your seat for a long flight.

You slept most of the way, exhaustion from the last few days catching up to you. You had landed a while ago and had retrieved your suitcase. You made your way outside, looking for the company car that had been sent to fetch you. Locating the car, you slid in looking out the window at the unfamiliar city around you. It was busy, the workday having just started.

The car brought you to the company building, pulling up to the curb. The driver got out to help you out of the car. You thanked the man before walking through the front door. You showed your email to the security guard at the front desk. He nodded and made a call, presumably to the manager of Stray Kids. He motioned for you to sit, which you did.

A few minutes later, the same woman who interviewed you walked toward you, extending her hand out to shake yours.

“Y/n,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you in person. Was your flight ok?”

“Nice to meet you,” you responded. “It was a nice flight, thank you.”

She smiled at you before gesturing toward the elevators. “Shall we?”

You nodded and grabbed your bag before following her to the elevators. She punched the number five and stepped back, the both of you standing in silence as the elevator ascended. Once on the floor, she motioned for you to follow her.

“So you can drop your stuff in my office. We’ll go over some logistics. Have you look over and sign the contract and then you can meet Minho.”

You were taking in the halls around you, while trying to listen. “Ok, sounds good,” you said. You both came to a door, before she pushed it open, allowing you to step into the room first. She pointed to a chair in front of a desk. You took a seat and waited for her to speak. She briefed you on your role, which was to be the company appointed girlfriend to Lee Minho, one of the members to Stray Kids. You were to serve your role for a minimum of two years and at that time the contract could be extended or terminated. She went over some other things as well, before handing you the contract to sign.

You took the paper and pen she handed to you, took a deep breath and signed your name on the line. It was official, you were Minho’s girlfriend….at least on paper.

“Well are you ready to meet Minho?” She asked you.

You swallowed before meekly saying yes, your nerves getting the best of you. What if you made a fool of yourself? What if he laughed at you and thought you a joke? Your mind went through a million questions, not noticing that the manager had left.

A few minutes later, she walked back into the office, a man in tow. He had on gray sweat pants and a white t-shirt on. In all his glory, Minho stood before you. You were speechless.

The manager looked between you two before saying, “Minho this is y/n. She will be your company appointed girlfriend. I’ll leave you for a moment to get acquainted.”

You watched as she walked out the door, softly closing it behind her. You looked from the door to Minho, his eyes trained on you and…was that a scowl? He didn’t look happy to see you, but that couldn’t be it right? He didn’t know you enough to hate you right?

Taking a breath, you decided to suck it up and introduce yourself. “Hi Minho, I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you! I hope we’ll get along well.” You said with a smile on your face. Minho just looked at you, his eyes hardened. The man was glaring at you and it was making you uncomfortable. You had no clue what to do or say. Despite this, you were not prepared for the words that would come out of his mouth as he continued to glare at you.

“I don’t need you, you should go back home.”

You watched as he turned on his heels and walked out the door, leaving you standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

Well shit, you thought. This is going to be fun….not.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @thesilvernight0wl @armystay89