#pointing to and tapping the helmet
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leclercskiesahead · 4 months ago
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Carlos Sainz’s EPIC podium moment
from GQ México y Latinoamérica
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adhd-mode-activate · 2 years ago
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okay gentle helmet bonk kisses for Mandalorians who follow the Way
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sbnkalny · 2 years ago
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Near the entrance to the pit near the summit, there was an iron watchtower. On top of it sat a boy with red hair. He was gazing blankly at the sky covered with murky clouds.
I am trapped inside of an iron lung. I think someone in the Holy district is hiding his phone behind the Helmet, mobo had bright red hair that was cut into a mohawk, which gradually formed into a long time. The adult moth is covered with monsters
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screampied · 5 months ago
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#THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY. g. suguru
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☆ sum. the last thing you’d expect for a surprise birthday present by your friends was a visit to a men’s strip club. geto suguru—your dancer’s got it all. tall, handsome, and he wants waaay more than just thirty minutes with you.
wc. 6.9k (h.. haha)
warnings. fem! reader, stripper au, stripper! geto, unprotected, lap dancīng, dry humping, switch geto, lots of riding, 69, finishing too quick, choking, geto has nīpple piercings, hair pulling, spīt, dirty talk, he licks champagne off you, nīpple play, breedīng, praise, **** cameo :), petnames.
an. ty to the ppl who voted on my poll <3 kinda scared to post this LOL. this came on a whim ʅ(◞‿◟)ʃ
➤ kinktober mlist.
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“i understand your body wants it. i know your thoughts, oh you ‘bout it ‘bout it . . ”
the erotic lyrics that blared through the club’s abject speakers nearly deafened your ears the moment you stepped inside. you were flashed with a plethora of luminescent jade lights as you read a glowing sign near the bar that read ‘welcome to the vixxxen lounge.’ your friends, who decided to surprise you for your birthday with nothing more than a girls’ trip to a men’s strip club told you they’d be getting drinks if you need them. of course . . that was probably code for: going to spend time near the private rooms.
apparently, it’s ‘happy hour’ which meant countless discounts—and you’d already had your two individual sessions paid for by one of your friends. crisp aerating air waves from the air conditioner chills against your skin as you lean against the bronzy brick pillar. you gather your surroundings, eyeing the oily attractive glossed men that entertained the screaming crowds of thirsty women. the wide stage was spacey, and it almost looked like a concert—you started to wonder just who you were paired up with. but right as you’re pondering deep in thought, there’s a light tap on your shoulder.
“miss.”
you turn around to face probably the most attractive man you’ve laid your eyes upon. he’s tall with lengthy long hair — tangled black tresses of strands that reach just about past his shoulders. you couldn’t help but openly gawk a bit . . finding your eyes to leisurely trail down toward his skimpy attire. near his neck, he had a stained smooch of a lip stick mark that was a dark shaded red. you then noticed a few hundred dollar bills stuck in between his red thin straps.
this guy, it appeared he was dressed as some kind of firefighter. he had on the helmet along with the matching baggy yellow pants, but was completely topless. the only thing that went against his chiseled pecs was the skinny straps that attached onto the belts of his pants.
“heyy,” he waves a hand in your face, arching a brow.
“o- oh, sorry,” you bashfully murmur, mentally cursing yourself out for wandering off into space again. embarrassing, embarrassing. fishing for your vip pass that gave you direct access to one of the secluded private rooms—you dig it out your pocket, staring down at the assigned dancer and room number. “are you uh . . geto?”
“i am. but ah, suguru’s fine,” he murmurs, and he takes your pass, putting the temperature lanyard over your neck. geto’s fingers brush against your skin and you nearly shudder.
his touch.. it felt like sparks of electricity, and near the far distance by the crowded stage, your friends waved at you. with a throaty, “follow me, birthday girl,” he swiftly turns his heels and starts making a beeline toward the back of the club. you follow him, continuing to eye his costume.
but phew, he had quite the ass.
but anyway—that’s not the point.
it never really occurred to you how all the male strippers had specific costumes—you were far too entranced by geto. it was probably because of how halloween was only a mere few weeks away, so it’d make sense how they’d be ordered to get into the spirit of things.
“and imma let you do it how you wanna girl i’ll riiiide with it, riiiide with it . . ”
the lyrics of that catchy same song that resounded through the speakers of the club grew louder—and as he guided you inside the dimly red lit room, he makes you lie back against a cushioned sofa. there’s a few piles of money scattered near the front, and you didn’t count but that amount could make anyone filthy rich.
geto rubs the back of his neck, rolling it around to stretch before he glances down at you. you struggle to look him in the eye and a faint smile creases across his lips.
you’re new, and he could tell you weren’t used to such carnal provocative environments.
“relaaax, pretty girl,” his voice was low purr. the way he talked was soothing, a good amount of teasing and playfulness. right at his words, your shoulders slumped and you lean back.
the air around you seems to close in, getting thicker ‘n thicker before he makes you haul your arms over the edges of the couch. “comfy?” and he doesn’t do anything else until you give him a subtle complying nod. geto takes off his amber-colored helmet before putting it on your head. “lean back. just focus on me.”
“o . . okay,” you exhale, and your eyes finally meet his.
the fake firefighter helmet crooks, tilting a bit to the side over the crown of your head as you watch him starting to sway to the bass dropping beats. you gulp as he gets closer . . and closer, following the exact steps to his usual routine before he gets on your lap.
he’s so pretty, and now that his helmet was off of him, you got an even more view of his face. geto starts to slowly grind against you, one hand resting near back of the couch that’s next to your shoulder. he’s fully in sync with the song that booming blares in the background.
the friction. he was moving up against you, and you couldn’t help but glance down his glossy chest. his legs were huge, and you didn’t even notice the clamped silver piercings that stuck against his reddened nipples. “is this okay?” he whispers, and you already feel yourself starting to heat up. the a/c was blasting—and yet, you felt like it was over a hundred degrees.
“ ‘s okay,” you breathlessly say, feeling your facial expressions serene. geto swiftly gets off you, and he starts to rock and grind his hips against the floor.
he’s slow and precise—each movement matches the following before he sits up, flicking against the straps of his costume. fuck, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. you knew he was probably used to this . . seeing so many women at a time, giving them a thirty minute private dance and going on with his day.
geto had charisma and lots lots of it.
it was ironic because he didn’t even have to say anything. throughout the duration of his entire routine, he let his hips do the rest of the talking. speaking of hips, you’ve never seen a more a slutty waist.
it’s unapologetically snatched, and you start to envision seeing his face plastered on every cover of a a men’s vogue magazine. he’s gorgeous—and the second he’s back in your lap again, he leans into the crook of your neck. “hey,” he repeats, and his voice was a lot more pitched and lower. it’s a dirty kind of husky that makes you clench your thighs together. as he’s up close—you get a whiff of his cologne. it’s quite loud, and you’d guess the scent was something between bergamot and rich aromatic oak moss. “do you wanna touch me?”
a breath gets trapped in the back of your clogged throat at the question.
geto continues to gradually grind his hips into you as pretty black strands of his hair tickles near your shoulders. “y- yes,” and the words smoothly flow from your lips like smooth molasses of chocolate.
geto was patient, and he wanted to make you comfortable—that was his number one priority.
he speaks in a more rough yet sly tone. “ ‘m gonna grab your wrists okay? just feel me,” and you feel mentally prepare yourself. biting down on your bottom lip—you mouth a soft, ‘okay,’ and geto gently grabs your wrists.
he’s still slowly jerking his hips against you, matching each sultry beat of the song. the base of the chorus rang through your ears and the lyrics flowed through once ear ‘n out the other.
as you stare up at him, he makes you press your hands firmly against his shaven flexing chest. sheets of slicking sweat that covers the top part of his body coats on your hands and you cutely furrow your brows. “heh, oh sorry love. ‘m a bit sweaty, hope that doesn’t turn you off.”
“it’s f . . fine,” you utter, and he resumes to guide your hands. his chest was as hard as a brick, and you felt how his muscles would freely tense.
god, geto was a literal sculpture. you probably looked stupid with how you kept openly staring at his perfectly carved abs. an entire six pack - each section even more strenuously ripped than the first.
as you continue to gawk, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets—you feel him shifting his weight a bit so he wouldn’t crush you. your thumb snags against his pierced nipple and he grunts, breaking character for a second. he lets off a cute snarl. “sorry! i didn’t-”
“sweetheart, it’s okay,” he hums, releasing a low puff of air. so he was sensitive there, noted.
as he continues, he makes your hands reach lower. the thin straps of his costume glide against your plump fingertips before he stops at his fading raven-colored happy trail.
black ‘n bushy . . you could make out every single tiny speck of hair that stuck against the lower part of his abdomen if you squinted, and you did.
the rest was hiding underneath the upper hem part of his prop turnout pants. “now ‘m gonna let go of my hands,” he whispers, eyeing you intently.
it was so much lustful ardor in the air. the more you stared at the dancer, the more you started questioning why the hell you never visited a strip club sooner. a question that was probably gonna remain unanswered..
“ . . ‘n ‘m gonna let you do whatever you want while i finish.” he concludes his sentence, and as if his hands were attached to your own with adhesive velcro, geto slowly pulls away.
now, it’s just your two balmy palms pressing against his chest. you take it upon yourself to drag an invisible line down his flat sleek cheek with your fingers.
your hands then find themselves reaching for a few papery fifty dollar bills, tossing it at his glossed grinding body. geto sighs with a cunning simper, continuing to rock his slim hips into your lap. “that’s it, feel me princess. ‘m all yours.”
and in a way – he was.
it was only you two in the room, and yet it felt like you ‘n suguru were the only people on earth. the entire mood was sensual and you could almost smell the libido that radiated off his skin. it was a scent you couldn’t describe—but you didn’t want him to stop.
as your hands kept roaming down his puffed out chest, you stop right at the hem of his pants. poking out, his sharp carved-like ‘v’ shaped pelvis arches within each muscle he moves forward.
the crimson red lights that flicker every three seconds narrowly spotlights toward geto’s fit body. for a quick moment—you get a good glimpse of his face and he’s inches away from your shimmery twitching lips.
geto leans up to your ear and he hoarsely whispers. “birthday girllll,” and he huffs out a drawn breath, feeling you eagerly tug at his pants. a snicker leaves from him before he gets a nice smell of your citrusy perfume. “ah. is the pants gettin’ on your nerves?”
“a bit,” you murmur honestly, and you were already undressing him with your eyes. you were sure geto was most likely wearing a thong underneath but you imagined otherwise.
filthy - you couldn’t believe the thoughts you were having.
to think, if you hadn’t accepted this little ‘girls’ trip’ with your friends, you’d probably be sleeping the entire day away. after all, they did want you to get out more. especially for your special day. with a pout twisting across each part of your lips, you sigh. “can i—”
“what, undress me?” he tries to play coy, seeing your pouty expression increase. geto hums, amused as you lightly hook a finger underneath his hooked strap before he shrugs. “go ‘head, princess. knock y’rself out.”
geto found your hesitance cute. you didn’t wanna seed ‘needy’ but you were showing all signs of it. at the moment, you completely forgot you were at a strip club and he was just a dancer.
but fuck it.
you went slow as he still straddles your lap, slowly pulling down his loosely fitted pants. they were baggy.. a flashy color of yellow, and the more you tugged them down, the more you got a glance at his scanty thong.
it’s dark purple with his name embedded on the thin white strips.
from all sides, it spelled ‘s u g u r u,’ in bold lilac plum colors. he even had custom made thongs? as if you couldn’t get even more aroused—
yeah, you were aroused. leave it to your legs that remained glued together starting to swelter up with … stickiness.
not everyday did you have a man grind against your lap, and to be fucking frank you didn’t think you’d last.
“you’re so pretty,” you pant, watching him shimmy his pants down to where it flops down to his ankles. and oh, he had quite the bulge.
it looked almost painful—so swole and round, you just wanted to kiss it. it looked like at any second it was about to just burst through the cottony stretched fabric. the scenery grows more hedonic as the red lights dimmer. you could barely see his face anymore, just a silhouette that grinds against your lap at each beat of the song playing loudly.
as you nearly slip out a moan, you lean back before your heaving breaths start to accelerate. “suguru.”
“aw,” he coos, feeling your arms wrap around his slender waist. geto’s still swiftly grinding into you, feeling your cute nails claw into his back. the back of your brain kept chanting ‘more, more, more!’
you still have the helmet on, and with the way it’s crooked and could barely fit your head—he found that small detail adorable. as he remained seated on your squished thighs, it was embarrassing to think you were starting to feel yourself erratically throb.
leaning into your neck, he could loudly smell your sheer arousal and it makes him lowly chuckle against the soft shell of your ear. “not satisfied, yeah?” and he lets off a quiet bellowing grunt, feeling your hands trail down his sweaty body once more.
he’s so built, parallel to a literal tank.
geto’s rocking against you in rhythm with the same song that still trumpets through the speakers before whispering. “just say it ‘n i’ll give it to you.”
“you always come to the parties. to pluck the feathers off allll the biiiirds. . ”
the lengthy song continued to drag on—and the busted speakers in the private room sounded like it was about to break from the distortion. it was loud, but your panting breaths was even louder the more geto dances on you.
letting off a longing three second moan once a leg of yours voluntarily hooks around his slim waist, you mewl out a sweet, “i want you. suguru, fuck me.”
“oh. sounds like a demand, sweetheart,” he purrs, and he stills his hips against your lap.
geto’s got a plethora of rings on each of his fingers. pretty silver ‘n gold bands that would wrap around his digits. he had long fingers, thin and perfectly slender.
the more you stared, the more you thought how good they’d fit insi—
“eyes up here,” he cuts you off, and you shudder feeling his palms cup your face. your leg still wraps around his waist before another shortly follows.
he’s barely rocking into you now, and with a bumpy shimmy, you feel his bulge rub against you. “mhm,” geto grunts before meeting your needy gaze once more. as a thumb strokes your bottom lip, pulling it down gingerly, he whispers. “ask nicely. say pretty please.”
“you won’t … charge me extra?” you sheepishly say, beads of perspiring sweat trickling down all sides of your forehead.
geto smugly smiles, grumbling a subtle, ‘nah,’ before making you lean all the way back against the padded sofa. “okay,” you breathe, and you just didnt care anymore.
you wanted him – maybe even needed him..
geto’s hardened bulge that presses against his thong throbs harder before you sweetly murmur,“please, fuck me, suguru.”
“anythin’ for the birthday girl.”
and those words were the same exact words that ran through your mind as you now found yourself in . . quite the risqué position.
you’d be the one straddling geto now. he’s got you in a classic 69, and your pretty perked ass hovers over his face. right in front of you was his weighty fat cock, and it’s a pretty flushed pink with rosy-lime veins prodding from the sides.
you’re whimpering out sweet harmonic keynotes as his long pointed tongue slithers its through your inviting entrance, two broad arms clinging onto your hips. “fuuckk,” he’d groan, feeling you smear a thumb over his leaky mushroomy tip.
you’ve already got him sopping wet from the chin down thanks to your wet cunt – glossy pearly drool seeping from the sides of his dick.
geto’s shaft remains idle, and you wrap a hand around his base before pumping it, rotating your wrist – once, twice, thrice..
he was aching, and the entire time he was giving you a show he had a boner. it was rare, usually whenever he gave lap dances—he was one to never really crack, he was a trained professional and yet here you were.
“mmch,” his swollen puckered lips smack against your cunt as he eats you out entirely from the back.
your mouth drops, jaw dangling— goofily hanging open like a cartoon as he resumes to extends the length of his tongue inside the outskirts of your warm room-temperate-tastin’-pussy.
lolling it out all the way, he licks from top to bottom—stopping at your clenching hole. geto gives it a five second kiss, a sloppy one that glues a mixture of his spit and your slimy juices on his mouth. “sweetheaaart,” he rasps, biting back a greedy groan once he feels you starting to take him in your mouth.
your throat’s seraphic warmth draws a hot sharp breath out of him as he swats a hard palm against your ass for you to start. “when i say move your ass against my face, i fuckin’ mean it. move,” and you let off a candied whimper the second the temporary sting sends singles toward your weeping whiny clit.
feebly, you start to flop your ass up and down against his face and you hear a satisfy ‘hmm’ purr from his lips. you’re moaning, sinking his cock down your throat in the process before your sticky tongue swirls around his angered crownhead. “mmph,” and you take a few inches before you feel his tip swipe against the scaled roof of your mouth.
going back up, it loudly ‘pops!’ out as a bit of sheeny saliva trickles down your chin. you’re taking him deep within no time, and you let off a cute hiccup once his swollen sack paps near your jaw.
so full ‘n round…
you’re breathing through your nose, still shaking your ass against his face, swipin’ his nose occasionally like a credit card with your honeyed-slathered cunt.
his wide flat tongue felt so good that you felt your toes curling each time he playfully nibbles on your sensitive throbbing clit. his tastebuds felt each pulse and it was so hot. “sugu, fuck.”
“i know, i know,” he gruffly whispers against your runny folds. bringing a pair of long twinned fingers towards your pussy, geto strums it down the pulsating slit in a straight pillaring line.
with a bit of pressure—he spreads your lower lips apart, getting a front row seat view of your clit pumpin’ pumpin’ away.
you had such a pretty throb, the prettiest he’s ever seen.
“god, you’re pretty but you’re even prettier down here too,” and not only do you hear him swallow but you feel it too.
a long full gulp, and he’s making sure to savor as much of your sweet slick on his tongue as possible.
geto’s just nasty, and a proud eater. he zigzags his tongue everywhere until your vision’s murky and clouded. you’re left crossed eyed with puffed up cheeks, barely able to focus on his dick that’s laying flat on your tongue.
a hand of his squeezes against your ass before with a mean ‘whack!’ he spanks it again just to see the bouncy recoil. the way a ‘lil fat portion of your ass would jiggle all due to the hasty-rash contact of his palm makes him throb.
and you feel it right in your mouth.
as your head bobbles at a more quick yet languid pace, your tongue skims down one of the many veins that paint down his cock. your repeated moans become muffled, and geto groans at how sloppy you sound—from the front and from behind.
the more he slurps every syrupy drop that dribbles out from your gurgling pussy, his precisely-thorough licks turn into exaggerated four second sucks.
geto softly caresses a hand against the bare skin of your exposed flesh, tugging on your pulled up skirt. pulled to the side were your panties that had a pretty pink star imprinted on the back decorated with glimmery rhinestones. you moan as your back slowly arches inward ‘n out and your knees become to buck.
his tongue, he definitely knew how to eat.
“ ‘s good, juuuus’ like that princess,” he huffs, feeling minuscule dewdrops of your saliva pour down the sides of his cock, slicking all over his base.
your thumb traces a heart over his hefty sack, massaging his tender full testes before you hear geto whine out a sweet, “o- oooh shit,” he was tender there too, huh..
and the sound catches him completely off guard because he grunts, the swaying of his tongue gradually slowing down. geto’s pretty lashes flutter before he grunts, taking a second to breathe. “don’t . . stop, play with ‘em some more,”
“pf—” you pop your mouth off his dick again, wet slimy sounds following as you stroke him off with an closed palm. “are you sure?”
“yeah yeah, ‘m sure,” and there’s a bit of sass in his gruff tone.
geto’s getting flustered, and never in a million years would he admit that you playing with his balls made him feel so good but fuck, it did.
geto paws a hand against your ass before letting off a hurried breathless, “fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”
you went back to bobbling your head up ‘n down, pumping his fleshy pillar of length in your free hand before you start writhing your ass against his face even more quicker. geto moans, a surge of a trill nearly escaping out his gruff vocal chords before he grunts loudly. “mmp,” and your throat was so wet ‘n warm.
it enveloped him entirely, and as your cunt’s sitting over his slick lips—every so often rubbing against his nose and slick-streamed chin, he peppers it with a few kisses.
your hips were arched ‘n askew, and as your tongue occasionally darts down his sensitive slit you hear him grunt again. the burgundy colored sofa pathetically dips inward due to the stacked weight of both rutting bodies. geto’s eyes start to roll their way back as you continue, nearly sucking the soul out of him.
“fuck, baby. spit on it,” he groans, clasping his teeth at your needy clit.
he slides his tongue against your cute bulbous-shaped nub before sucking on it for the umpteenth time. you moan, still tossing your ass around for him in a slow meandering manner, feeling his tongue drag down the slope of your ass again.
geto’s pussy drunk entirely, and he didn’t care if this was against policy, having a customer touch him. when you tasted this divine, he couldn’t help devour your cunt like the starved, starved man he was..
at his words, you spat out translucent globs of saliva from your lips, pasting the slightly curved sides of his dick with your slick mess. “pff,” and you drench him from the base down, twisting his shaft with your wrist before hearing him groan.
geto’s about to finish and you could feel the vigorous pumps of his dick in your mouth growing weaker … and weaker – until, he cums.
geto’s jaw goes slack the moment his peak abnormally reaches, and growls out a husky ‘fuuuuuck,’ with the muscles in his neck tensing.
within a blink of an eye and a snap of a finger, the flat tip of your tongue’s now being sprayed with spritz of waxen cum. it’s a bittersweet taste that coats on your judgy tastebuds, and as you close your eyes with a humming moan departing from your lips, you hear him hiss. his body’s violently shaking, and his hips start to hungrily thrust into your mouth.
you wriggle your ass in face as he’s barely eating you out anymore, frantically heaving as he dumps his all down your pretty tight throat. “fuck, fuck, take it,” and his body still sporadically tremors.
as your mouth’s still full, geto gives your teary wet cunt it’s last few lapping licks before his head collapses back in lecherous defeat.
with cheeks still plumply puffed — his cock remains shoved inside. his aggravated red tip’s just swiping ‘n erupting near the roof of your mouth as you slurp him clean.
you swallow instantaneously, luxuriating in the mildly honey taste before feeling him shudder underneath you. “goddamn, so fuckin’ good. fuckin’ filthy, princess.”
with clammy palms, he turns you over and you lean in to kiss him. geto’s taken by surprise, and as you make him flop back against the velveteen cushion, you made your way on his lap. rough edges of teeth clash and roughly clatter against each other as each tongue plays a more salacious version twister.
geto reclines back, his hands moving toward your rocking waist as he grunts—tasting himself on your tongue. its bitter, but with the help of your lip gloss—it turns far more sweet within seconds. feverish breaths ghosts inside each mouth before you watch him reach near the side of him.
grabbing a half filled up bottle of mousseux, he flicks off the cork with a flick of his middle finger. geto’s eyes still closed as he’s delving his tongue right into your mouth.
the merciless smacking of lips grew louder before he pulls away, huffing breathlessly. “wan’ more of a taste real quick, princess,” and it sounds more like a needy plead. you see how flushed his face was, and geto’s eyes dart straight toward your bare chest. the top you wore was pulled down, clinging near the very bottom of your waist. “c’mere..”
and as you lean in, you watch as geto starts to pour down a small stream of champagne all down your chest. right between your tits, cupping underneath your tummy so none wouldn’t spill further down.
he makes sure a few glosses over your pretty round breasts before he grunts, closing the distance between your chest.
geto buries his face in between the valley of your tits, licking it right up. the bubbly fruity taste lingers on his tongue as he laps you up from top to bottom moaning at the spicy sweetness.
a mixture of your skin and champagne—better than any cocktail this club’s ever served.
“f- fuck,” he moans, lying his tongue flat. geto stares at you the entire time too, and his mouth gradually trails it way toward your damp neglected nipples. he cups his lips around the first nipple—slowly transitioning to the next before slurping the drink right off your body.
a tight breath gets caught in your throat as he continues to lick the rainy drops of sugary champagne off your body. geto groans, savoring the taste before with a loud ‘plop’, he pops your tender wet nipple out of his mouth.
there’s nothing but utter lust and infatuation in his eyes—and he then gets up to kiss you. the room’s nearly pitch dark without the help of the dim effulgent red lights that shined against you both. it added to the mood perfectly.
as tongues continue to try to assert dominance, you moan right in the dancer’s mouth, returning the gesture of swapping gauzy strings of gossamer spit.
abruptly though, you pull away, gently pushing geto back against the sofa.
with a raspy ‘ugh,’ geto lands on his back as you give him a light shove. he’s at your mercy, and you stand up from his lap, a wind of confidence coming out of nowhere and nearly pulling you forward.
he stares at you with hooded cunt-drunk eyes, watching you do a figure eight with your body.
“what’s . . this?” he huffs, burly arms stretching over each edge of the sofa. you looked so pretty, eyeing him up and down as he does the exact same to you.
the luminescent lights started to beam on you now, highlighting your curves and entire physique.
“lie back,” you murmur, slowly sashaying toward him. geto runs a hand through his hair, his dick twitching from the cool air wafting against it. you teasingly drag a finger down the scarred middle line of his bare-puffed chest, stopping at a hardened row of his brick-made abs. “i wanna try your little routine.”
“yeahh?” geto snickers, sucking in a sharp breath once you spin around, bending all the way over. the helmet that was still on your head—you put it back on him, watching him scoff at your audacity.
so you stole his profession now, great.
as you’re turned the other way, you slowly wriggle your ass in front of him, putting a hand over your sopping pussy and he kisses his teeth. “tch. don’t tease, sweetheart,” and geto’s allured stare fixates on you the entire time. his dilated irises frantically roamed around every and any part of your body like a laser. “fuck,” he grunts, watching you finally make your way on his lap.
geto’s all submissively underneath you—bare ‘n exposed with his poor tip flushed. its color was a sheeny carmine red that’s akin to a ripe cerise rose.
a few dried up splotches of cum stick near his weighty sides before he shudders. your ass sits on his flaccid dick before you start to move.
slowly,
you’re rutting into him—just like he was to you, grinding back and forth. geto looks so pretty though, underneath you. he’s still panting a bit, sweating bullets as you tease him with your crazed hips.
you weren’t at his level quite yet, but fuck could you move. geto groans, feeling your sloppy pussy rub off against his dick. you were so close to his tip that his foreskin would peel back a bit. “do you wanna touch me?”
touché..
geto narrows his eyes at you as you tease him, repeating his exact words from what he said to you earlier.
he doesn’t just touch you, he fucks you—
but in this case . . you fuck him.
geto holds back a moan as he’s watching his claret-colored cockhead disappear between your sappy folds. it’s like a magic trick, and with a ‘poof!’ half of length vanished within you.
you let off a soft shrilling whine, trying to writhe yourself around his length.
his dick was fat. ‘eyes-rolling-tongue-lolling-drag-your-nails-down-his back-’ type of fat.
and his girth only made things ten times more intense. you felt him rearranging your guts within each prolonged inch you took – literally.
you’re as slow as a snail with the way you try to take him wholly. even as you’re gingerly sinking your bare ass down with his cock snug ‘n deep inside you, he easily kisses against your g-spot.
it’s happening already, and you don’t even realize he’s fully in before a cooing whimper rawly snatches from the back of your dry esophagus. “oh fuck,” you huff, tossing your arms around the dark haired man.
geto’s got the same wide-eye-jaw-dropped reaction to you, and with one arm snaking around your waist—another’s tightly gripping onto your right ass cheek.
he spanks it, giving it a short squeeze afterward. your chest starts to heave in quickened intervals, and once he feels you starting to move it’s game fuckin’ over..
“god, pussy’s ‘ta die for,” he groans, eyes sexily rolling back until his sockets show nothing but white.
you had him whipped, and he can hear your cunt trying to have a word of its own, squelching out cute gargled squelches. you start to ride him at a mere hypnotic rhythm—and geto’s a lot more vocal now.
with his adam’s apple bobbing, both hands of his were now gripping onto your waist now. piles of money surround you too, a few sticking against his sweaty beefy thighs. “fuck me,” he grunts, and it’s more like he’s begging.
geto locks eyes with you, shaggy long bangs running past his eyes before he securely grabs your hips—trying to keep up pace with you. “mhm, thaaa’s it. ride it, ride . . the shit out of me, uuughhh.”
“ ‘m trying,” you moan, biting your lip each time his swollen cockhead plummets its way deep.
he’s just so big—you couldn’t wrap your head around how a guy could be so damn big.
the good kind of big, and each time he’d seep a single girthy inch into you, your stomach would churn like butter. he’s in sooo deep, your legs could barely support yourself anymore and he had to hold you steady.
as he pulls you all the way down, geto reaches waaay inside of your sloppy gripping cunt that’s oh-so desperate to wring him like a vice.
his thick cock greets your pretty fleshy cervix, mimicking a soft ‘knock’ before introducing itself with a welcoming pound.
he holds your hips, pumping himself into you again, and again, until your pussy remembered each stroke, each thrust, each fuckin’ letter of his name—front to last..
slow but fucking deep.
you gasp, clinging onto his neck before soft hurried pants of ‘yeah, yeah’ ‘s scurry past your glossed lips.
geto’s dewy eyes were half lidded and he’s never felt more pussy drunk in his life. trust—he’s had his fair share of women but oh, you were far different. it was something about you, and he just wanted more after each carnal second passed.
you’re so into his dick givin’ your pussy a fuck of a lifetime that you don’t even realize your hand was now wrapped around his thick neck. not too tight, but geto’s reaction time was slow also. once he realizes seconds after you did, he sheepishly scoffs before slyly humming.
“goddd, y’r so fuckin’ hot when you choke me,” he purrs, tugging at the panties that pull to the side of your thighs. of course he’d enjoy it, and as his dick’s still massaging your gummy walls, he moans. “harderrr.”
“don’t be greedy,” you mumble, burying your knees into his bulky thighs.
the way you rocked against him was hypnotic—and geto’s hands remain on your waist.
you nearly shudder, feeling the various cold bands of his rings run and tickle down your skin. he’s in love with your body, and even more in love with the way you feel from the inside.
leaning in close until you’re just inches away from his spit-slicked lips, your thumb runs its way down the bulging ball that lies inside his throat. “say ‘pretty pleaseee.’ ”
“tsk,” geto scowls, and even with a pout he’s effortlessly attractive. your hips continued to champion its way up ‘n down at a deranged pace as you moved, and his cock’s pumping you full over and over and over. with a vexed grunt, he utters. “pretty please, choke me harder.”
leaning in to kiss the side of his mouth, you whisper a crooning, “good boy,” and geto whines the moment you add a bit more pressure around his neck.
his hair’s all in his face, and your ass was just ruthless.
ferociously slamming down onto his stout cock, you’re drenching him from the base down with your syrup-coated slick. a bit of your own sloppy arousal glues against the pried apart crevices of your thighs—pasting against his as well.
it’s a mess, and with how close he was getting, he was about to create an even bigger one..
geto felt like he was ascending—and with how you were riding him, it didn’t take him long before he’s close again.
yet this time—so were you, and you could recognize the feeling all too well. geto’s cock stretched you to capacity, and he grabs the few dollar bills that scatter on the sofa, throwing it at your body whilst you rode him. he makes it rain on you, spanking your ass with a crumbled up hundred rubbing against your stung skin.
“fuck, ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum again,” he grunts in your ear, feeling your pace accelerate by a mile. you were draining him, preparing to milk him and the thought of him stuffing your cunt full made you pulse.
your tongue salivated at just imagining it..
the warmth, the stickiness, the way it’d spill between your thighs. you’re moaning out sweet noises yourself as you both rut into each other at a demented overzealous pace. geto’s thick thighs clench—and while you’re letting out cute blubs of his name on repeat until it’s the only syllables your dumb brain could register—he pulls you close. “ngh, same time, pretty girl. cum with me, let’s make a . . hah, mess together.”
“okay,” you mewl out, both hips pivoting in lascivious unison.
both sweaty mounds of flesh blissfully bounce into at other and each squelch makes you whimper out in ecstasy.
you cup geto’s pecs, smearing a thumb over his pierced nipples and he whines instantly. you lean in to suck against the bars that slash through his tender areola. geto leans back manspread, growling out husky, ‘fuuuuck!’ ‘s as you hum, giving both his nipples its few seconds of attention.
it lasts for seconds that felt like years, and one you pull away he lets out a cute blasé huff.
as your cunt’s in the midst of overflowing—your hips tremor once more time before within milliseconds, you both cum.
it’s quick..
and with your jaw dropping and geto’s shoulders fatally sagging after his big, heavy sigh—he starts to fill you up ounce after ounce.
it’s patching hot, and the second he’s beginning to spill ‘n dump out his perfect ivory ribbons of cum inside of you, you grunt out a melodic finishing, “fuuuck.”
swinish, weak hands grab at your ass as you come undone also—whimpering soft defeating babbles from the sensitive feeling of your cunt spasming right between your jittery numb legs.
you feel static … shock, electricity pulsing through your veins all at once. your entire body was turning haywire. as you start to grow limb right with geto underneath you—nirvana runs through each individual axon on your body before you hear a loud ‘pop.’
it’s more of a sopping squishing sound, and you were so dumbed down from his dick that you didn’t even realized how full you were..
peeking down, he filled you to the brim. wads and wads and wads of cum went inside of you and you moan, spreading your ass apart while craning your neck around just to see for yourself.
“ ‘m so full, suguru,” you pant, sliding a thumb down your sputtering cunt that’s plugged with both his cock and his thin oozing seed. you lick your lips before turning back towards geto and he’s absolutely fucked stupid.
you rode him so good to the point where he’s just stammering out inaudible whines. it’s cute, and you lean in to kiss him once more.
oh.. he was hooked.
he deepens with a few clingy hands feeling at your chest. the kiss gets more passionate rather than sloppy, and as he’s still buried inside of your cunt��he slowly starts to trail butterfly kisses down your neck. you moan, turning your head before you pull away. “shit, i almost f- forgot.”
“forgot what?” he hoarsely rasps, watching you unalign yourself, plopping down on the sofa with a big content sigh.
geto leans in, allowing his thumb to draw circles around your hips before you reach in for your purse, pulling out another decorated vip pass.
sheepishly, you utter. “my friends bought me two sessions with two dancers. so i have another one after you,” and you glance at the clock, squinting before you let off a bashful titter. “. . . oh, that was way past thirty minutes.”
“who? what dancer, sweetheart?” geto utters with a pout. he was still aching, already missing his you felt from the inside. he watches as you squint at your pass that reads the dancer’s stage name and / or full name on the back.
“uhh, it says t—”
“she means me,” and the both of you spin heads, ogling at the glittery red carpet and decorated pathway that was once covered up.
you could hear geto that laid beside you muttering out a jealous, ‘fuck,’ as you meet the other dancer’s gaze.
he’s wearing a leopard thong with an added on accessory of the most smuggest grin you’ve ever seen.
a slashed scar runs down the right side of his crooked curved lips and you spot bills sticking at both sides of his halfway on thong that nearly shows his sharp hips before he hums.
“name’s toji,” and you’re suddenly being lifted up by strong, tatted brawny arms before he turns around, winking at a very pissed of geto before trodding out the private room with you in his arms.
“i’ll take it from here,” and feral green eyes with an even more feral grin. “ain’t that right, birthday girlll?”
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dindjarindiaries · 3 months ago
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Clueless
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character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)
prompts: “Are you flirting with me?” “Have been for years, but thanks for noticing.”
main masterlist • prompt masterlist
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You tapped around the usual controls you could reach from the chair behind Din's as the cockpit of the Razor Crest groaned to life around you. "How's the hyperdrive looking?"
Din kept moving his gloved hands along the main console as he answered. "It's online." He gave his helmet a quick tilt as he pushed one more button above his head. "For now."
Din exhaled a heavy breath and wrapped his hands around the joysticks, giving them a squeeze before he maneuvered the gunship off the ground. The breath you let out was one of relief; the two of you had certainly been trapped on worse planets before, but you were glad to see the sight of it fading below you.
"Glad you're confident in your work." You failed to hide your growing smile as you relaxed and let Din take care of the rest.
"This isn't a confidence problem." Din spared a look at you over his shoulder before he lifted his hands to grasp the hyperspace levers. "The Crest just manages to surprise me from time to time."
With that, Din pulled back, and the stars stretched out before you. They then burst into the familiar plethora of blue and white swirling lights, beginning yet another long journey through hyperspace.
Hopefully one that you wouldn't get forcefully pulled out of. Again.
But you were still stuck on what Din had said: This isn't a confidence problem. That drew a pleased hum from you, one that you didn't bother to keep hidden from him. It wasn't like he'd get it, anyway. Not if he hadn't the other countless times you'd done it.
"I like that."
Din, now leaning back in his chair, swiveled in his seat to face you. His helmet was tilted in genuine confusion. "Like what?"
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you instead gestured to him with your chin. "The confidence."
Din shrugged. "Comes from experience."
You smirked and kept your arms crossed over your chest. "I'd like to see what kind of experience."
Din didn't move, but his tone spelled out all the confusion you likely would have seen on his face if it wasn't covered by his helmet. "Was getting pulled out of hyperspace hours ago not enough experience for you?"
That time, you really did let yourself roll your eyes as you laughed and stood to your feet. Honestly, the tally of your advances versus Din's own cluelessness was getting difficult to keep track of. "Fair point."
You stepped over to Din and set a hand on his armored shoulder.
"It's been a long day. I'd say it's time for some beauty sleep, but you've already got the first part covered." You gave his pauldron a squeeze and turned around. "And no, rest isn't an option this time."
You could only get a few steps away, however, when you suddenly heard Din stand up behind you. "Wait."
You froze in place and looked at him over your shoulder, lifting your brow as you awaited him to retaliate with some kind of meaningless yet humorous joke.
Instead, you saw him nervously shifting his weight between his feet. Even his gloved hands were pulling tight into fists before he asked a question you never thought you'd hear.
"Are you flirting with me?"
As surprised as you were to hear the words, you didn't miss a beat with your response. "Have been for years, but thanks for noticing." You flashed him a wink and started walking forward again, letting your sudden adrenaline carry you. "See you in a few hours."
You had only just started to cross the cockpit's threshold when Din found his voice again. "What?"
You laughed to yourself but didn't stop your stride as you stepped over the ladder towards the storage space you had claimed as your own private bunk. The door slid open for you, but before it could close, something—or someone—stood in the way.
"Hold on."
Din sounded out of breath, and when you turned around, you saw him leaning against the metal material of the storage room's threshold. His body was still rigid, the same way it looked when he was preparing to leap into battle.
"You can't just... after you..." Din gestured absently behind himself, to the open cockpit.
You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest again as you fully faced him. "I know this incredibly obvious revelation is somehow news to you, but it's not to me, and I'd really like to get some sleep."
Din just shook his helmet in pure disbelief. His modulated voice was lower than usual when he spoke again. "All this time?"
You huffed and looked down at your boots. "What did you think I was doing?"
Din's tone with thick with embarrassment. "Being nice."
You laughed again. You couldn't help it. "Of course you did." You reached forward and tapped your knuckles against his helmet. "Your skull must be as thick as your beskar."
You stood back where you were before and watched Din carefully. His visor was focused on the floor, and his gloved fingertips were fluttering thoughtfully on the hand he had propped up by his head.
You closed your eyes and sighed. His cluelessness was even worse than you thought it was.
"Listen, Din, you clearly need some rest. Just... go to sleep and we can talk about this later. Okay?"
Din's helmet snapped back up to you at that. "No. I'm sorry, let me just..."
He leaned off the threshold but continued to stand in it, keeping the door open for himself. His gloved hand palmed his helmet as his chest rose and fell with a frustrated breath.
"Kriff."
You chuckled and shook your head at him. "Din, it's really not that big of a deal."
Din stared at you before his armored shoulders deflated. "It isn't?"
You let out a softer breath as your chest squeezed. "I didn't mean..." Now you were the one palming your face. "Not like that. I just meant that I'm not offended or anything."
Din tilted his helmet. "Offended by what?"
You shrugged, too overcome by your newfound embarrassment to look at him as your stare returned to your boots. "You not reciprocating."
Din let out a sigh so heavy that you had no choice but to look up at him again. He had changed his position so that his hands were set on his hips as he shook his helmet.
"That's the thing." His visor found your gaze before he nodded. "I've been trying to."
Now, it was really your turn to be shocked. You blinked at him a few times as your heart somersaulted in your chest. All this time, you thought your flirting was just a vain effort to get the attention of a man who would never be open to you or what you had to offer. You were starting to wonder if you had somehow managed to miss something.
You found your voice, but it was only a squeak. "What?"
Din gestured with a gloved hand behind you. "I'm not good with words, so I tried to do things. Like helping you set up this room. And cleaning your weapons." The next part was a mumble you nearly missed. "And making you that blanket."
You whipped around, spotting the blanket—your favorite, by the way—that had just shown up one day on your makeshift bunk. You huffed in disbelief and turned back around to face him. "That was you?"
"Who else?"
It was Din's turn to laugh, though it was only a raspy chuckle for him. He even turned your own question back on you.
"What did you think I was doing?"
And your answer was nothing different. "Being nice."
Din let out the biggest sigh you'd ever heard from him, and you couldn't even blame him.
Oh, the irony of it all. Maybe you were actually the clueless one.
"So..." You clasped your hands behind your back and rocked on your heels. " What now?"
Din shrugged. "Hell if I know." He gestured with his helmet behind him. "I think I just proved I'm not the most qualified in this area."
You spared another glance at the blanket. "Clearly, I'm not much better."
Din looked off to the side the way he always did when he was planning something. After a few heartbeats, he nodded to himself and looked at you again. "I might have an idea."
You lifted your brow. "Yeah?"
Din nodded again. "We should switch."
"Switch what?"
Din shifted his weight and used his finger to gesture between the two of you. "Techniques?" The suggestion came out as a question. "I'll try words, and you try actions."
You hummed in consideration before ultimately nodding. "Okay, yeah. I like that idea." You smirked at him. "You first."
Din, for once in his life, stammered. "What? I—Well, I can't just..."
"You can." You took a step closer to him. "You have something to say to me. I know you do."
It was then that something overcame Din, and you could see it in the way his posture relaxed into something much more familiar and comfortable. His visor gave you a steady once-over as he took a smaller step closer to you.
"I have a lot of things I want to say to you."
You let yourself embrace the flustered feeling even as you let out an impressed whistle. "That was good, Djarin! You're learning." You gave his armored shoulder a pat.
Din gave his helmet a soft tilt. "Your turn."
You grinned, letting your hand fall from his shoulder to instead grasp his arm. You other hand rose to meet it, and gently, you pulled him further into the room, causing the door to slide shut behind him. Din looked back at it in surprise, but when he looked at you again, he didn't seem displeased.
"I'm offering you my bunk." You gestured back towards it. "Because I want you here, but also because I don't want you sleeping on that sorry excuse for a bed down in the hold anymore."
Din chuckled at that, the sound thick with both amusement and admiration as he nodded. "Fair enough."
You helped him get settled into the bunk with you, draping the blanket he had apparently made over both of you as the final touch. Your face was the closest it had ever been to his visor as you laid beside him. Surprisingly, he was the one to break the brief silence.
"This is a good start."
You smiled, humming once more before getting close enough to rest your face against his cowl. "I agree."
The gloved hand you felt on your back was enough evidence of the fact that he was just as comfortable, now, and not as clueless as you had thought him to be.
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thecoochiefairy · 2 months ago
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gamer girlz. onyankopon.
𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 4.6K word count. blackfem!reader, drabble, college football coded! onyankapon, grumpy!onyankapon, sweet!onyankapon, dominant!onyankapon, kinda sorta makeup sex?, couch sex , black woman, vaginal penetration, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, backshots, missionary, condomless sex, cumming on face, kissing, spanking, just a fine ass black man, minors aren’t welcome!
━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓���� 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ day 283737272 of liyah’s ovulation and faithful celibacy pact meaning she’s having the most nasty, egregious thoughts. please enjoy my black man fantasies. the links inspired this fic heavily, so enjoy those too.
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𝓐ᥫ᭡ :: onyankopon just wants to help you finish your game.
link. link. link. ony’s visuals.
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YOUR FINGERS SHOULD'VE HURT AT THIS POINT. Swiftly moving from button to button, they tap the controls as you’re on another level of the game you desperately wanted to beat.
You had some time off of studying, and this is how you wanted to spend it. Your boyfriend was at football practice—although a part of you just wanted to be swarmed up in his arms, your attention span also had you elsewhere—this damn game. You enjoyed the older games, replaying the hardest version of Batman: Arkham Asylum, your boredom peaking your interest back in the game you’d had since childhood. 
You didn’t even register that the door had opened, or maybe you didn’t just care enough. You knew who it was. You eye him dropping his keys against the counter, black hoodie over his head, sharp jaw grunting lightly from his sore muscles, scowl along his face—definitely had to do with practice. 
You pause the game for a second, turning your face to the side, fuzzy socks along your feet, his large jersey slung along your body as you greet him, “Hell, baby. What they’ do to you?” 
“Coach was on dick today. Had me running laps cause other niggas couldn’t catch the ball and I got mad,” he huffs, taking his helmet and slamming it on the counter next to him. He massages the nape of his neck, sighing deeply to himself. 
“Now you know coach don’t like all that cussing on his field,” you sigh, “He knows you're good. That’s why he’s on your ass.” 
“Nah. He just annoying as fuck. Can’t expect me to do everything.”
He’s like a child, grumpy and pouty. His tall frame comes closer, wanting your attention in response to his rough day at practice. 
“How’s my baby?” he says in your ear, wrapping his large muscular arms around your waist and gently biting your shoulder. His broad frame shadows under his hoodie, tat against his face shining under the lights of your shared apartment, full lips moisturized—you’d never let him leave the house otherwise. 
You give him a soft laugh, rubbing your fingers over his durag as you say, “I’m fine. Had some time off studying, tryna’ beat this game. I meant what I said, Ony. He doesn’t just give you a hard time because he’s bored. You’re his star player, gotta make sure he ain’t treating you like everybody else.” 
“Don’t tell me you on yo’ nerdy stuff. C’mon. I’m sore,” he groans, his grip around your waist tightens and he pushes himself against you. 
“Oh, is it nerdy shit when you’ screaming on the game playing 2K with your friends? I was gonna offer a little massage. Now you’ve lost your entry to that,” you say, trying to push him off of you, reaching for the controller in between your lap. 
He doesn’t budge. He holds firmly onto you, pressing sloppy kisses against your neck to distract you. 
“Don’t be like that. I was kidding, you know I like that shit,” he huffs, his breath against your neck as he presses his lips on the sensitive part of your skin, “Forgot to tell you, I got an away game coming up in a few weeks. So I’ll be gone for like, a week.”
Your head comes down a bit to look directly at him, “What? You’re not coming with me to my parents? You know the holidays are coming up, Onyankopon. I told them you’d be there.” 
“You know imma’ just be sitting around hiding behind you,” he murmurs against your skin, his hot breath tickling you. 
It’s not that he’s shy— rather, he just doesn’t enjoy the unnecessary attention. 
“How ‘bout we do our own Christmas, before I go?” 
He’s nuzzling himself against your neck now, his hands roaming all along your body. You press his body away from yours, standing up as you become annoyed. 
You then say, “I wouldn’t be going up to my parents place if you didn’t agree to come with me in the first place,” going into the kitchen, searching through the freezer. 
He runs a hand over his face, seeing how instantly irritated you became. He knew having his support for the holidays meant a lot to you, and he might’ve waited on telling you about the going away game to lessen your disappointment. 
“Mama,” he calls, watching you from the sofa. 
You turn, raising an eyebrow as you say, “Oh, so now I’m Mama, you love hitting me with that shit when you know I’m mad.” 
“You know I don’t like going to those family functions, I swear that house always stinks cause yo’ auntie cooks that nasty ass fish. A week ain’t no big deal. Let’s just have our own thing here.” 
“So which one is it? You don’t wanna go or you got your football shit?” You narrow your eyes, pulling the ice pack from the freezer, arms crossed as you come back closer to him.
He knows better than to lie, especially to you. 
��They got some NFL scouts coming to this game,” he mutters, scratching his temple. I’m sorry. But I’m tryna’ go pro, you know that.”
“Mhm.” 
You hand him the ice pack, “Put it on your knee. I know it’s been sore lately.”
He raises an eyebrow, “You’ not mad?”
“Did I say I was mad? You’ want the ice pack or not?” 
He takes the ice pack, wincing once the coldness hits his knee. He knew you were gonna give him a scolding if he didn’t.
“You’ got a bad ass attitude right now.” 
“I wonder why, Onyankopon? If we had plans to go back to your parents house for the holidays and at the last minute I told you I have exams and that I just didn’t wanna go, you’d be irritated too.”  
“Damn, you gon’ be on my ass about this for the next three weeks?” 
He didn’t like it when you were like this, cause instead of being pissed you were more disappointed, which was somehow a lot worse to him.
“I’m gonna be gone for a week.” 
You scratch your nails in between the baby blue orchid claw-clip that holds your curls. You dismiss him, “You need to go shower.” 
“What, you ain’t tryna’ join me?” he murmurs, a smirk on his lips, “Quit being mad. I’m tryna love on you. Wanna put on The Isley Brothers and give you a rub down.” 
“You’re playing too much right now,” you deadpan, “Bye Onyankopon.” 
“What’ you mean bye?” he says, his smirk turning into a frown.
“I’m finna’ go finish studying,” you’re already walking back towards the bedroom, ending the conversation off as that. 
When you finally hear him smack his lips and make his way into the shower, you glance over your notes, deciding you weren’t gonna let him ruin your previous plans. You’re now back on the sofa, eyes set onto the screen, trying to defeat the computer generated opponent. 
You switch over to the sound of the bathroom opening, seeing him re-tying his durag back on, basketball shorts baggy and house shoes on his feet. His tattoos all along his face, neck, chest and arms always had your attention—but not as much attention as you usually gave him at this moment. You sprawled along the furniture, elbow deep into the couch's pillow as one leg laid straight out, while the other bent itself over the top of the couch. 
He doesn’t like how you’re paying no attention to him. As stupid as it sounds, he’s always got to have your eyes on him. They were pretty. 
“You’ still mad? You for real ain’t finna’ give me a massage?” 
“I’m good,” you swiftly respond, “Just playing my game. You can massage yourself.” 
“Why you’ gotta be like this?” 
He sits down next to you, his large frame takes up a lot of the space. The couch becomes smaller somehow. His eyes watch the game intently before he decides to get comfortable. Lying back down on the sofa, he lets his head rest in your lap. Even with you being irritated, you let him lay there. 
You continue going up level by level, your focus intently on the game. The little argument between you and Onyankopon irritated you to say the least, but you didn’t have the energy to completely push him away. It’s unfortunate he was persuasive. You notice out the corner of your eye that he lifts his head a little, the warmth between your legs along the back of his neck, and that’s when he sees that you’re wearing nothing under his jersey.  
He takes the time to admire you, legs lazily hung open, his eyes staring directly against your pussy, scenting of vanilla on your legs, freshly shaven. One of his large hands comes to rest on the back of your thick thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb.
“What you’ got on?” he mutters.
“Had to wash clothes, didn’t have any underwear. That’s why I put on your jersey,” you tell him, eyes still not looking at his face, unable to see how his jaw clenched at the sight. 
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. In that moment his large hand rubs along the skin on your thigh, pushing the jersey up further.
“You look good as fuck in my shit,” He mumbles, a low rasp in his tone.
“Thank you,” you say in a softer tone, mainly because you’re distracted, buttons pressing harder against the controller. 
He can tell how focused you are—how your face scrunched up, the way your fingers move, even the way your thighs fall open on his head.
That’s when you feel him lean down, giving a gentle peck to your inner thigh. The feeling makes you tense a bit, but you still keep your eyes against the screen, huffing out a breath as your character is close to dying. This level was difficult. 
He’s giving small, light kisses along the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, taking small intervals to glance up to you as you keep your eyes against the screen. His hand moves higher up on your leg, slowly pushing the jersey up even more.
Your eyes go to him for a millisecond, seeing as his head is down, lips attached to your thighs, sucking ever so gently on your skin. You can almost feel a pressure building in your stomach, the slow ache of his movements almost purposeful, teasing you in a way. You press your glasses up against your face, huffing out a breath as you mutter, “Stupid ass level,” trying to come up with a reason as to why you sound so breathless. 
He grins as he’s laying there, hearing your breathing getting heavier. It’s obvious how hard you’re trying to focus on the game, but he’s working you up.
“You’ trying so hard, Mama,” He murmurs against your hot skin, his kisses trailing to the spot he knows is extra sensitive.
You shift your body, clearing your throat as you say, “Gotta restart,” adjusting your legs a bit, opening them up just a little more than before. 
He can tell how you’re slowly giving in, how you’re shifting your body around, legs opening just enough for him to move closer. He lets his free hand come to caress your stomach, rubbing against the skin under the fabric of the jersey. His lips are so close to you, his breath is hot against your skin. 
“Restart then,” He mutters, tongue now coming to flick out from his lips, gliding across your skin, hiding beneath the pillows of his lips as they begin sucking a dark red mark against you.
You narrow your eyes lightly as you restart the level you play, but your body is distracted by Onyankopon’s lips along it. You drag your teeth along your lip a bit, pressing your fingers harder into the controller, feeling his lips coming up higher. 
You could feel the arousal you had flooding in between the lips of your pussy, protecting your clit as it now begins to pool farther down, dampening the couch. His large fingers wrap along the outside of your thighs, using his thumbs to pull the skin on the inside apart, showing the dark pink of your pussy, squelching at his presence. Your body tenses even more as you feel his thumb meet with your clit, rubbing so softly against it, dropping his mouth down to press another kiss to your skin. The leg hiked up against the top of the sofa trembles a bit. 
“You’ winning?” You hear him murmur against your skin. 
You take a deep inhale, squeezing your fingers against the hooks of your controller as you softly reply, “No.”
He circles your clit with maddeningly light touches, barely grazing the swollen nub. At the same time, he’s still pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses, occasionally grazing his teeth. 
"You’ getting distracted. Wet ass pussy," Onyankopon murmurs appreciatively, feeling the slick evidence of your arousal coating his finger.
Your chest heaves a bit at his tone, but you don’t let up. You keep your eyes on the screen, but you seem to be losing. In both games. 
He spreads you even wider as he leans in closer, hot breath fanning over your slick folds. He pulls his thumb back as he replaces it with his mouth, giving you an innocent kiss against your clit. His beard captures your arousal, your fingers shuddering as you hear him groan, “Ooh, fuck, Mama. You’ wet for real.”
Without warning, he seals his lips around your clit and sucks, tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive bud. He releases it with a lewd pop before trailing open-mouthed kisses along your slit, lapping up your dripping arousal. Your eyebrows deepen into a frown, lips trembling as you give one more press to your controller, before you take your hand and reach it to the back of his head, getting a clutch against the knot of his durag. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, clasping your mouth shut as you whimper for him.
He delves his tongue deeper between your opened folds, dragging it up and down, lapping up to create more secretion. His hands grip your thick thighs, spreading you obscenely wide as he eats you out like a starving man.
"Mmmm, this a nigga favorite fuckin’ meal," he rumbles, voice muffled by your flesh. He alternates between slurping you up and flicking rapidly, determined to make you fall apart. One hand slides up to grope your ass roughly, kneading the plush flesh.
“O—Ony…” you gasp, voice small and high pitched, fingers squeezing harder against his head, dropping the controller out of your other hand, the object hitting the ground with a thud. The music of the battle within the game becomes something you hear, but not as loud as his mouth gulping you down, heavy tongue sopping against your pussy, drenching his beard so much that he could drown in you.
“Pretty ass voice,” he encourages huskily, the vibrations from his words sending shockwaves through your core. He dips two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your weeping cunt, pumping them slowly as he continues his relentless assault on your clit with his tongue. The wet sounds of him feasting on your pussy fill the room, mixing obscenely with the forgotten video game noises.
His free hand roams your curves possessively, groping and squeezing every inch of exposed skin he can reach—your ass, your thighs, the underside of your breasts. You’re lost in a haze of pleasure.
You were always so sensitive to his touch, the pleasure that you received from him kept you so kidnapped that it was hard to be mad at him. You grind your clit along his mouth that waits to catch it, voice ineffective of composure as you struggle, “Gonna cum soon, Ony…” 
“Yeah?” He grunts, head knocking up and down, your eyes only able to watch as his lower face disappears in between your legs, glistening a coat against his beard, “Where you wanna cum?” 
“On your dick, baby…” you whine softly, rotating your hips gently to match his moments, “Please…”
"You wanna cum on your dick, Mama?” He coos against you, the sound reverberating through your core, you’re whimpering with an urgent nod, “Mhm,” before he can even finish his sentence. 
He pulls himself back, already tugging his tip from beneath his basketball shorts, taking off the material as your eyes follow the curve, the vein in his dick, heavy against the stretch of his large palm. Tattoos spread against his pelvic, scriptures and inspirational quotes that didn’t belong in his blasphemous moment.
"Turn around, put that ass in the air for me.“
Your legs feel a bit numb, bringing yourself up as you know exactly how he wants you. Raising your left leg along the arm of the couch, you lean your breast over the top as your face hides beneath your arm, right knee digging into the seat of it. He places his fingers along the side of your neck, other hand digging into your thigh thrown over the furniture. He doesn’t have to tell you to look at him—you always give him your eyes, feline as they blank beneath his control. Your body trembles as he slams his palm against your ass, “Arch more,” your body following suit, deepening the valley your silhouette creates. 
He grips your hip with bruising force, using the leverage to grind the swollen head of his dick teasingly along your soaked slit. Up and down, he rubs himself through your slick folds, coating his length in your essence. Your hips tense as you feel the weight of his tip stretching open your pussy, sinking in that it makes your abdomen cramp, aching in a pleasure that has your entire body tighten. Your eyes are beginning to roll back, digging your nails into the sofa as you keep your eyes on his, he looks mad at you, slamming his palm against your ass again as he grunts, “Keep that fuckin’ arch.” 
Your chest is filled with oxygen, holding your breath to cure the slight discomfort you feel, but it’s also an agonizing pleasure, feeling so full from him. He’s slowly dragging himself halfway out, rolling his hips back in and going even deeper, your mouth dropping open as your eyes flutter shut, turning your head back towards him as you whimper, “Fuck, baby. You’re deep…” 
Silence goes in between the both of you, savoring the rush of pleasure that clutches the air as he drags his first couple of thrusts, so slow it felt like time wasn’t even passing. The sedated actions almost feel better than if he sped up, his eyes locking down as he sees you painting his tip, creaming on him. 
“I’m in your shit, huh?” he talks to you, it’s almost tortuous as he hilts himself fully inside, his heavy balls slapping against your throbbing clit. Your walls clench around him like a vice, your head tilting back as you completely tense. You whimper, “Ungh,” attempting to push him back to relieve the stimulation, jumping as he gives you a bruising spank, deep voice aggressive as he says, “Uh-uh, don’t do that. You know I don’t do that running shit.” 
His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he starts up at a carnal pace. The wet squelch of your pussy being split open echoes obscenely in the room, mixing with your deep whines, nodding your head, gently dropping your hips against his abdomen to meet his strokes.
“Keep riding that dick, goood fuckin’ girl,” each thrust is punishing and deep, stirring up your insides. The wet slap of skin on skin echoes obscenely as he rails into you, chasing your pleasure to insanity.
You always try to keep up, but you never could. All your organs feel tossed around by him, so blinded in your erotic state, your mouth opens as you give long moans, deeply gasping each time you need to catch your breath. He brings you to a point of saying things you’d never thought would leave your lips, mouth parted as you groan, “Yes, yes, baby. Agh, fuck, Ony. Deeper.”
"You want this dick deeper?" He growls, accentuating his question with a thrust that has your eyes rolling back farther. His grip on your hips tightens, surely leaving finger-shaped bruises on your toffee skin as he sets a merciless pace.
He’s back at palming his hand brutally against your ass, rushing it up to come around the front of your mouth, resting his fingers there as he grunts, "Take this fucking dick then," yanking your head back.
The new angle allows him to go even deeper, his hips slapping against your clit, “Finna’ tear this fuckin’ pussy open.” 
His filthy words mix with the lewd sounds of your bodies coming together, filling the room, it has you groaning through his fingers. 
“Love you so much,  baby—“ this was a regular routine, the affection you give him as he’s hitting that spot that only he could find, whines plummeting from your mouth, eyes to the back of your head as you reach back and grab onto his wrist that holds your hip, moaning louder each time he rolls his hips back to meet the weight of your ass matching his rhythm.
“What happened to you being mad?” He questions, going slow as he tugs you back into his dick, the echo of your skin bouncing off each other like a drug induced round of applause. 
You shake your head, “Not mad at you, Onyyy,  love you so much….”
He chuckles darkly, low and rumbling in his chest as he leans over you, pressing his muscular torso against your back. His hot breath fans across the shell of your ear as he murmurs, "I know you do, Mama. I love you too.” 
One large hand slides up from your hip, reaching around to splay across your stomach as the other now tangles in your hair, tugging your head back. He rolls his hips in a slow, deep grind, stirring you up from the inside, your mouth releasing broken shouts, your face hot, pleasured tears wanting to stroke along your face. 
"Fuckin’ love you, princess. Pussy was made for me,” He gives another sharp thrust, grinding against your cervix. "You’ getting tight as fuck—You’ cumming, Mama?”
“I’m….” You gasp, defeated in your inability to speak, taking your hand and reaching back to hold his face closer to yours, hips trembling as you dangerously moan in a cracked tone “I’m cumming, baby. I’m cumming. I’m—agh,  c—cumming…”
His chuckle is dark with lust as you flutter and clench around him erratically. He grips you harder, using the leverage to pound into you relentlessly, chasing his own release.
"Good job, baby. Biggg fuckin’ girl. Cum on this dick. Fuckin' soak it," he growls, his voice strained with pleasure. One hand moves from your hip to your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub as he continues his brutal pace.
Your whole body tenses and shakes as your orgasm crashes over you, a loud cry tearing from your throat. Your pussy spasms almost violently around his thick shaft, gushing against him so much it pushes him out of you, trying to milk the sensation for all it’s worth. 
“I’m finna’ bust, baby,” he warns, groaning in your ear, “Come eat this dick up.”
Your body feels numb as you turn yourself towards him, immediately wrapping your lips along his tip, enveloping the taste of your own arousal within the walls of your mouth, sucking him in to reach the heavens of your throat. He clasps your hair within his palm, bobbing yourself back and forth as you reach down, rubbing your clit as you still feel your orgasm rushing through your body. You moan around him, giving him those cat eyes, fluttering your dark extensions as you swirl your tongue against his tip, begging for a reaction.
He throws his head back with a deep, guttural moan as your warm mouth engulfs him. His grip on your hair tightens, guiding your movements as he starts to thrust shallowly into your throat.
“Shit—just like that. Eating that dick up good as fuckk," he pants, his abs flexing with each snap of his hips. The sight of you—eyes fluttering, cheeks hollowed, one hand buried between your thighs—it’s almost too much.
He pulls your mouth off him, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his glistening tip. With another smack to your ass, he flips you onto your back, settling between your spread legs. 
"I wanna see your face when I nut in this pretty ass pussy." 
He lines himself up and sinks back in with one smooth thrust, bottoming out instantly, clutching your throat, holding you down as your back arches up, clawing into his back at the visceral sensitivity.
He sets a hard, fast pace, the wet sounds of your joining filling the room. His intense gaze locks with yours, pupils blown wide with lust as he takes in every expression that crosses your face.
"That's it, baby. Gonna fill this pussy up real good," he grunts as you whimper with his talking, “Ba-by,” angling his hips to hit that special spot inside you. One hand slides under your thigh, pushing your leg up and back to change the angle, allowing him to go even deeper.
He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he continues to pound into you. His tongue dominates your mouth, swallowing your moans and cries of pleasure. Breaking the kiss, he buries his face in your neck, biting and sucking dark marks into your skin as he chases his release.
"Fuckk, finna’ cum soon. You want it in you, baby?”
“On my face baby, you say it’s pretty there,” you whimper, deepening your nails in his back, “Mmmph, c’mon, Ony. Please…” 
A grin spreads across his face at your pleas. Grabbing his throbbing tip, he positions himself at your face, smearing the leaking pre-cum across your cheek. He’s moaning, stroking himself rapidly, aiming his tip at your parted lips. His free hand grips your chin firmly, keeping you in place as his strokes become erratic. He then cums, painting your face—across your cheeks, over your lips, some even landing in your waiting mouth.
You stick your tongue out, running your tongue over your lips that darken in color, bruised as you dig your teeth into them with a sultry giggle. Heavy breathing fills the room as you keep your eyes up at him. 
He steps back as he says, “Hollon, baby,” going into the bathroom as he finds a towel, rubbing it along your face to clean you up. He then leans down, pulling you into a kiss as he grunts, “Gimme’ your mouth. I love you, Mama. I’m sorry.” 
You give him a kiss, holding his face in your hands, running your tongues together sloppily, passion filling your entire body from the previous actions. 
You say, “It’s okay. You’ want your massage now?”
He pulls his mouth back a bit, eyeing you before he chuckles. It makes you pout, “What’s funny?”
He laughs, shaking his head as he helps you stand, “Nothin’ Mama. Just thinkin' 'bout how quick you forgave me after I tore your ass up."
You roll your eyes, “I can always change my mind.” 
He runs a hand down your side, squeezing your hip possessively. "Chill out. I want that massage. You know I'm always ready for your magical hands."
He stretches languidly, his muscles rippling beneath his tattoos as he leads you towards the bedroom, “ And don’t be all stingy with the lotion. Do that lil’ thing I like if you feeling extra generous.” 
“You’ getting beside yourself. Do you need that?”
He turns, “Do you?”
You scrunch up your nose, “No. I want a massage next!”
“Exactly. C’mon, get that ass on the bed.”
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trumanbluee · 7 months ago
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you're the one that i want - deadpool / wade wilson
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minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!
please reblog if you like it! ᡣ𐭩
based on this request! <3
content: three words, baby! the honda odyssey!
word count: 2.5k
warnings: established relationship, no mention of condom (wrap it b4 u tap it!), petnames galore, deadpool is a warning in of himself lol.
a/n: the deadpool brainrot has been so strong recently so thank u guys so much for all ur requests! my return to my deadpool era couldn't have come at a worse time with my exams happening rn but i will try and write as much as i can! love you!
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You'd been sitting in the backseat of the "fuck-ass Honda Odyssey", as Wade had described it, arm resting on the centre console, your head propped up on your palm lamely as you turn it left to right, half-listening to Wade and Logan argue like you're at a tennis match.
You'd almost flown forward into the front of the car when it came to an abrupt stop, tyres screeching as you let out a soft yelp in surprise. Wade hears you, and wordlessly pushes you back softly. You'd heard something spat out from Logan, along the lines of "You'll never save the fucking world!", followed by Wade's voice saying, "I'm gonna fight you now." and then the sound of a sickening crunch as he punches Logan in the nose.
It's milliseconds before you see your boyfriend's arm reach back and open your door, gently ushering you out with a soft, "Why don't you go for a walk, pretty girl?"
You know better than to argue, especially with Logan seething in the front seat, so you hop out of the car, shutting the door behind you as you trudge off into the trees, half grateful for being kicked out of the car so you didn't have to listen to Logan's grumbles when you inevitably had to ask him to pull over so you could pee.
You could hear the yelling and grunting in the distance, shaking your head as you hear the faint shatter of glass, followed by a - less than masculine - squeal from your boyfriend. You laughed to yourself, not worried in the slightest as you hear the fighting between the two, Logan's growls echoing through the trees as he squelches his claws into your boyfriend's stomach.
You'd told Wade to give Logan a break, and that eventually he would find out about his 'educated wish', but he hadn't listened, instead continuing to push and push and push Logan until, expectedly, he reached his breaking point.
You wandered around amongst the trees for a while, before slumping against a tree not too far from the car, your eyes growing heavy as you listened to the soft rustle of the leaves above you.
You wake up groggily, looking around the room as you rub sleep from your eyes. You startle when a red suit appears in front of you, but it's not the Deadpool suit that you're all too familiar with.
"I'm Elektra, that's Gambit," the woman points to a man in a helmet, who's stood in the corner, playing with cards, "and that's Blade," she points over her shoulder with her thumb to the man in a long, leather trench-coat.
"I.. uhm.. Hi?" you say, taken aback by this sudden bombardment of strangers.
"We're helping you and your friends get out of the void." Elektra explains, offering her hand to help you stand up. You take it gratefully.
"...Oh, cool..." you say, still groggy from being asleep for so long. "..are.. are they around?"
Elektra nods, pointing outside with her head, "Yellow's by the fire, Red's... around here somewhere."
You nod, thanking her and smiling awkwardly at Blade and Gambit as you walk outside, the smoke from the fire consuming your nostrils as you step out. You spot Logan by the fire, but see that he's sitting with someone.
'She looks an awful lot like that X-23 girl we saw at the TVA.' you think, not ruling out the possibility that it is her with the level of weirdness that had already occurred during your short time in the void. You tread on, looking around before you spot the Honda Odyssey. You shake your head, rolling your eyes as you walk to the drivers door of the car, opening it to reveal your boyfriend in the back-seat, pulling his katana's out of the passenger's seat next to you as you plop into the driver's seat.
He looks up when he hears the car door open, and the white eyes of his mask visible soften as he sees you.
"Hey baby," he coos, scooching forward in the back-seat to press a soft kiss to your cheek through his mask as you sit in the driver's seat, peeking over the headrest to look back at him, "was wonderin' when you were gonna wake up, sleepy head."
You smile softly, before taking a moment to look around at the damage done to the car. Your eyes go wide and your hand flies to your mouth, the other reaching back to swat at Wade's shoulder.
"Wade! What the fuck did you two get up to in here? Jesus Christ!"
You hear a whisper of 'Baby Knife!' followed by a soft grunt as Wade pockets another one of his knives.
"Just some good ol' fashioned fightin', baby! I'm kinda sad you missed it, that shit got good!"
You tut, leaning around the driver's seat to look at him as he's hunched over, digging for another one of his knives beneath the seat.
You hear him mumble something along the lines of 'Hate this fuckin' car' before he shoots up, and you can sense his smile through the mask. He leans back in the seats that are in the very back of the car, right leg thrown over one seat, with his other leg spread, suit-clad knee pressing into the fabric of the other. His eyes sharpen as he looks at you, before groaning softly, throwing his head back in a circle, and sighing.
"Fuck, princess, that fightin's gotten me all worked up," he groans, chin pressed to the top of his chest as he looks at you, eyes narrowed.
You feel your thighs rub together at the way he looks at you, the manspreading the cherry on top of a very, very, delicious looking dessert. He chuckles, gesturing to your thighs with his head.
"Saw that, baby." He laughs to himself before he lifts his hand, beckoning you to him with two fingers, his other hand resting on the headrest of the seat in front of him, twiddling Baby Knife between his fingers.
You squirm in your seat before not so agilely climbing over the centre console, crawling over the seat and onto Wade’s lap. He pockets Baby Knife, bringing a hand up to pull the bottom of his mask up, the other settling on your ass as you straddle his waist. 
“Hey doll-face,” he murmurs, smiling and giving your ass a playful squeeze, pulling his mask fully off before placing his hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you into a kiss. 
You moan against his lips as you kiss back, his gloved hand giving your ass a firmer squeeze. Wade uses this opportunity to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips as you gasp into his mouth. Your hips grind down subconsciously and he pulls away from the kiss, both of your chests rising quickly as you both try and regain your breath from the heated kiss. 
Wade smirks up at you, moving both of his hands to your hips, squeezing softly, pulling a giggle from your lips before he’s engulfing them in another breathless kiss. He moves your hips with his hands, grinding you down on his boner as it tents in his suit, causing him to buck up absentmindedly as he groans into your mouth. Your breathy whimpers vibrate against his lips, and he pulls away, leaning his head back against the headrest behind him. 
“…Fuck, doll-face,” he groans, looking up at you, “ look what you're fuckin’ do to me, baby.” 
He nods down to his dick, almost bursting out of his suit, and your mouth nearly drops open. Wade thinks to himself that if you were in an animé, you’d have heart emojis bulging from your eyes. 
He takes his hands off your hips, crossing his arms behind his head in faux-laziness as he watches you undo the buckle of his belt, slapping the sides of his legs softly, signalling for him to lift his hips. 
“Watch it, doll-face.” Wade warns, half-joking, “Ask me nicely, please.” 
You groan, giving him your ‘are-you-fucking-serious-right-now’ glare as you tug at his belt. He’d been on the receiving end of this look many times in the past, so he’s unfazed as he chuckles dryly, planting his hips down.
 “I can wait, Princess.” 
You roll your eyes, huffing. “Please, Wade,” you glare at him, “Will you please lift your hips up so I can get your dick out?” 
You add a pout and a flutter of your lashes at the end, and his resolve noticeably crumbles. He huffs, lifting his hips up off the car seat just enough for you to pull down his pants slightly. You dip your hand into his underwear, giving his dick a soft tug before freeing it from the tight pants of his Deadpool suit. 
You gather some spit in your mouth, looking at your boyfriend through your lashes before spitting onto the tip of his cock, using your hand to spread it along his length, squeezing softly around the base. Wade groans from below you, his hips bucking into your hand.
“Fuck, hotstuff, ya’ killin’ me here.” 
Wade hisses as you squeeze a bit harder around his dick, the pretty ring he’d proposed to you with cold against his skin. 
He almost whines, stopping himself by biting his lip, “Oh, c’mon baby, what’d I do to deserve this teasin’, huh? I fought so valiantly against ol’ Wolvie, didn’t I, princess? Don’t I deserve to be treated nicely?” 
Something about the whiny-ness of his tone sends a pang to your heart, and pussy, and you grind down against his thigh absentmindedly before putting both your hands on his shoulders. 
“Help me out, would ya’, Wadey?” you ask sweetly, shimmying your hips slightly to gain his attention. 
His hands fly to your tights, tugging them down your thighs, lifting your legs softly, one by one, and peeling your pants off, leaving you hovering above him in your prettiest pair of panties. You’d been wearing them as a birthday surprise for him, but you’d both been snagged by the TVA before you could put them to good use… until now. 
Wade’s breath hitches from beneath you as his eyes land on your panties, his lower lip bitten between his teeth as his chest heaves. 
“Fuck, doll-face, what’re you all dressed up for?” he says, tracing a gloved hand over the lacy hem of your white panties, pressing a soft kiss to the little blue bow in the middle, before blowing a puff of cool air onto the damp spot beneath it. 
Your legs wobble softly and a shiver runs up your spine, leaving you grateful for your hands planted on your boyfriend's broad shoulders. 
You muster the breath to say, “They’re for you, baby… Well, they were for your birthday…”
He groans softly, pressing a soft kiss to your mound before pushing the thin fabric to the side, swiping a gloved finger through your slick. 
“Shit, baby.. Y’so wet f’me,” he says, voice breathless. “Fuck those stupid fucking day players, keeping my beautiful fiance, and her beautiful fucking panties from me on my birthday. What assholes, hey baby?” He says, pressing his thumb to your clit harshly as he blows another puff of air onto your slick pussy, causing your hips to buck into the air. 
You whine softly, bringing a hand to pump Wade’s cock once again, nodding mindlessly at his question that he knows you didn’t even hear. 
Wade chuckles, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest and shooting straight to your cunt, your thighs squeezing around his hand as he thumbs your clit lazily. 
You shuffle yourself forward on his lap, holding onto Wade’s strong shoulder with your hand, the other slowly pumping his cock as you lift yourself up, breathing hitching as you push yourself down onto the tip of Wade’s dick. 
His breath hitches beneath you, rubbing soothing circles on your hips through his gloves as you sink down onto him. His hands grip your hips tighter as he bottoms out, your eyes squeezed shut as you clamp down on his length. 
“Shit, baby, I could blow my load right now.” Wade gasps, head thrown back as his grip tightens on your hips, moving you up and down on his cock. You follow suit with his movements, digging your nails into the fabric of his suit as you leverage yourself on his shoulders, pushing yourself up and slamming yourself down on his cock, a moan slipping from your lips at every drag of his dick along your walls. 
Your hips stutter slightly, and Wade takes this as his cue, moving his hands from your hips to gain a strong grip on your ass, lifting you up and slamming his hips to meet yours. You whine softly, eyebrows knitting together and biting your lip as the soft squelch of your wetness reverberates around the car, your chest heaving with exertion, skin dewy with a thin sheen of sweat. 
You throw your head back, moaning wantonly, one hand coming off of Wade’s shoulder and pressing against the roof of the car. 
“...Shit…Wade!” you stammer as he moves one hand to your lower stomach, his thumb pressing harshly on your clit through his glove.
You slam your hips down to meet Wade's quicker, chasing your high as Wade slams his hips up to meet yours, his head thrown back against the head-rest behind him, eyes closed, as he groans softly.
"C'mon, doll-face," Wade grunts from beneath you, rubbing cruel circles on your clit as he bucks into you, "...y'gonna cum? Can feel you squeezing around me, princess."
You moan softly, babbling something like a 'uh-huh' as your eyebrows knit together, eyes shutting tight as you feel the coil building in your lower belly, threatening to snap any moment.
Wade feels you clamping around him, looking up and watching as you throw your head back, your grip on his shoulder tightening.
"That's it, baby," he groans from under you, pinching at your clit meanly causing you to whimper softly, your head coming forward, forehead resting against his as you grind down onto his cock.
"C'mon, hotstuff, give it to me..." he grunts, feeling his own orgasm coming as you clench down on him like a vice, a string of curse words sputtering from your lips as he feels you gush around him.
"...Shit, baby... Good girl," he coos, fucking you through your orgasm as he cums, soft grunts sounding in your ear as he bucks into you before stilling, stopping the movements of his thumb on your clit, as he lifts you up gently and pulls out. He pulls his hand away from your clit, but not before collecting a part of the mixture of yours and his cum on his gloved fingers, pushing it slowly back in to your drooling pussy. You whine, overstimulated, and he tuts, pushing your panties back into place and pulling your pants back up your legs, leaning back in the seat as you slump against his chest.
He smiles, giving your bum a soft pat and pressing a kiss to your hairline, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “I lied, doll-face, the Honda Odyssey fucks, hard.”
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©trumanbluee - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! but i do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied. thanks!
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slytherinboysvip · 6 months ago
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!Motorcycle rider bf¡ Theo Nott
(Nsfw! Your boyfriend Theo has a motorcycle now.. and a hot fucking helmet.) (helmet kink? lol idk) smut smut smut
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Your boyfriend Theo didn’t have many outlets to get away from his thoughts, before it was smoking which he’s attempting to slow down on for you, occasional journaling not that he’d ever let you see that, and now his newest and most favorite hobby riding his motorcycle.
To be completely honest at first the idea terrified you, an angry Theo driving around on a motorcycle going any speed he pleased “Starò bene amore mio, tu sei il mio portafortuna”(ill be fine my love youre my good luck charm). You’d also be lying to yourself if you didn’t say he looked damn fucking good in his helmet. So good in fact that you needed him to fuck you in it.
It’s like his whole demeanor changes when he puts it on, you can’t see his face yet you know his beautiful sleepy eyes are looking directly at you underneath, yet all you see is his fit body and it just did something to you. It didn’t matter what he was wearing as long as that helmet was on his head you were drenched.
𓆙𓆙
The first time you rode on the back of his motorcycle was amazing. He bought you your own helmet “I had to get it for you baby it screamed you, and it gave an excuse to finally make you ride with me. Not that you haven’t done that before” He winked while putting it over your head. You were glad it was on so he couldn’t make fun of your profuse blushing but who cares it’s because of your hot boyfriend.
He put his helmet on and you nearly fell to your knees he looked so fucking hot. Without saying anything he lifted you up and onto the back of the bike and got on in front of you. “Can you hear me principessa?” You jumped hearing his deep voice in your ear “Yeah? how can I hear you Teddy?” You were so confused “I got mics duh, had to be able to hear my baby. Now hold onto my waist we’re gonna get going don’t let go.” His voice was demanding and you did as he said.
Wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, he grabbed your left hand and kissed it before putting it back down and kicking off, You didn’t expect it but the bumpiness of the road was doing something to you. You tried forgetting about it, it wasn’t happening, you weren’t getting turned on, but you were.
Your hands mindlessly wandered down onto your boyfriend’s crotch, rubbing slightly yet acting oblivious. “What do you think you’re doing there, hm?”. You almost forgot your boyfriend could hear you, “Nothingg, just resting my hands duh” You added some pressure and heard a small groan turning you on even more than before.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish doll” One of his hands came down and stopped your hands forcefully, a small moan escaping your mouth unwillingly. “My cute slut” He chuckled pulling your hands back up and going back to both hands steering.
𓆙𓆙
It has been long enough and you needed him to fuck you in the helmet. At this point all you had to do was tell him, of course he’d do it he does anything for you but the act of having to ask is so embarrassing, but its what has to be done for your own sake.
Reluctantly walking over to your boyfriend you quickly somewhat quietly expressed your feelings “Ireallyreallyneedyoutofuckmeinyourhelmetorilldie”. He looked at you with a confused look “Say that again but in actual words this time” He placed both hands onto your shoulders looking deep into your eyes, yet another weakness of yours. “I want you to fuck me in your helmet” You mumbled just enough for him to understand, trying to look away .
He chuckled before pulling your face to look him in the eyes again “il tuo desiderio è il mio comando, principessa” (your wish is my command princess). He got up and turned you around, “Keep those pretty little eyes of yours closed for a second”. You heard him walking away and did as he said before feeling a tap on your shoulder, “Turn around doll.”. Doing as he said you were greeted by a helmeted Theo, “Holy fuck you’re so hot”
“You know what you asked for, don’t waste time get on the bed for me slut”. You just nodded quickly before running for the bed and undressing. “Good girl, know just what to do for me. Get my pants down for me”. Pulling them down as much as you could you grabbed his growing dick and putting it into your mouth looking up at him from the bed, this entire view and situation made your pussy fucking drip.
You could hear his low groans coming from underneath the helmet and it was making you want more, “Please fuck me Teddy, please I fucking need it” You were looking up to your own reflection and seeing yourself covered in saliva because of this and made you feel something you never felt, you just wanted more. “Lay back then, I want you to fucking watch me.” He removed his shirt and holy shit he everything became even better. You definitely weren’t protesting this.
His rock hard abs, his throbbing big fucking dick and his helmeted head. He was like a god. Lining himself up to you he rammed deep inside making you give out a loud moan, his pace was immediately picking up hitting all the right places. His right hand came up to your pussy and he easily found your swollen clit begging for attention, he began swift circles over your clit with his thumb moving it side to side occasionally, It was already making you go over the edge. Everything about this moment was everything you needed.
Your pussy began clenching around his dick, your orgasm nearing and moans increasing, he kept his pace and underneath the helmet he was a mess, moaning and cursing because of how good your pussy felt. “è una bella merda, tesoro” (thats that good shit baby) He moaned deeply. Even though your legs were shaking and you couldn’t control your moans he kept going. Pace now increasing and still not leaving your clit alone. You were being so overstimulated but it never felt so fucking good.
He pulled out but before you could even say anything you were roughly flipped over onto your stomach and pulled back, legs reaching the floor lifting your ass up and slamming right back into your pussy. Screaming moan leaving your mouth “FUCK THEO MM”. Your screams only encouraging his behavior making him go even harder, hitting far and deep you were a mess and he was going feral.
He reached his hand forward grabbing onto your jaw shoving two of his fingers into your mouth yanking you back forcing you to arch, he leaned forward his helmet barley in view but enough for you to get turned on some more, his dick was driving you insane. “You’re so wet mm” he moaned “Fuck im gonna cum again Theo!!” You announced as you collapsed back down to the bed, nothing changing but him holding your hips up to continue fucking.
Your eyes were rolling back and you were feeling nothing but numb pleasure going dumb. “Cum for me good girl, mm fuck” “I love your pussy..” He stroked deeply “..and i love how much of a needy whore you are for me” He stroked harder and quicker “..and mm I fucking love.. filling you up” He moaned his last words feeling his cum shoot deep into your pussy unexpectedly making you moan. “Fuck theoo”.
He gently pulled out and spread your pussy lips watching intently as his thick white cum dripped out. Finally walking over to the side table and getting tissues to clean you off. “Now to take this off and get you properly cleaned up” He removed the helmet and he was sweating underneath which was also attractive to you. “Fuck it was hot in there but fuck that was hot” He laughed and you laughed along “That was definitely fucking hot. We need to do it again sometimee” You laughed again.
He lifted you off the bed and brought you into the bathroom sitting you down onto the toilet and starting up a warm bath “Any of your cute soaps today love?” He asked while looking through your box of bath bombs “Hmm, surprise me” You smiled at him and he went to looking. “This one’s perfect” He plopped in the only all black one that is definitely going to stain the tub.
He helped you into the bath and got into the shower next to you, being able to see him was funny but it’s just from the stomach up so it’s not much of a show. You sat there relaxing watching the water drip down his muscled back and felt content after that entire thing. This was most definitely needed.
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Hopefully you enjoyed that<33 I know i’ve been gone for a bit but writes block LOL anywho im not sure how this is so lmk!!!
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zyhkoo · 7 months ago
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☆ I need a doctor, oh! batboys x medic!reader
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fluff, gn!reader
they surprise you while you work
a/n: i was inspired by this one tiktok that says “my husband thought he could escape me so i made an appointment “ i thought it was so cute haha
Bruce Wayne
Breaktime, finally. You sighed and leaned into a chair in your personal break room. You loved your job as a medic, but the problem is it was just so tiring. You closed your eyes, your body relaxing to the comfortable silence around you.
Being a Vigilante by night and a doctor by day was a very tiring job.
Sleep was almost non-existent on work days, the most you got was three to six hours. You looked like an ill patient instead of a doctor at this point. But the hospital wasn’t busy today, so you went to the break room to relax.
Tap tap tap.
There was something tapping on the window, but you didn’t care to check whatever it was, so you continued to close your eyes.
Tap tap tap tap tap tap!
“…”
The tapping sounded more aggressive now, you groaned and turned your chair to the window.
“Oh my god..”
And there he was, in his signature bat suit and with that grim look on his face. You immediately walked up and opened the window. You helped Bruce sit on a chair as he tries not to fall on you.
He removed his helmet and there were a series of injuries and bruises on his poor face.
“What happened? I thought you didn’t have any patrols till later?” you frowned, your hands holding his face so you view him better.
He replied back with his gruff and clearly intimidating voice “Duty calls.” yeah of course.
You sighed, “Well.. you stay here okay? I’ll find something to patch you up, I’ll lock the door so no one sees you.” Bruce gently holds the hand that was touching his face.
“Thank you.”
Jason Todd
You had just finished patching up a patient in the emergency room, you wiped the sweat off your forehead and stretched. Today was a busy day, but it was normal. There are patients getting admitted left to right and your job was to tend to them.
“Um, doc..” one of the nurses approached you, you looked at her “Yes? What’s the matter?” you asked.
She fidgeted “Uh, we have a patient and he told us he specifically wanted to be treated by you..?”
Your brow raised “Me specifically? Do I know who they are?” you asked, your tone was skeptical.
The nurses led you to the room this mysterious patient was in. You opened the door to see Jason with his full suit on with injuries all over. As well as flowers on his left hand…
Your eyes widened as you immediately locked the door.
“Hi, Doc.” Jason greets casually “Jason why are you here? Hold on, let me take a look.” you said as you took a good look at his scars.
“Nearest safe house was 2 kilometers away and this was way near.” he replied, for a moment you blankly stared at the flowers on his hand. “What are these for?”
Jason looked at the flowers then at you “I thought I could give you a gift on the way.” he shrugs.
Dick Grayson
“Here's the next patient doc, they’re in your office.” the nurse gives you the details about your next patient. You smiled and took the folder “Thank you.”
You loved your job as a vet, you got along well with your sweet co-workers and you had this passion with animals.
As you read the document in your hands, you found all of this strangely familiar. You opened the door to the room and yep you're right.
There he was, with his signature goofy grin and the adorable dog in his arms.
“Hey Doc, looking good as always.” he slyly says, Haley barked clearly excited to see you as well. You scoffed, but you can’t help but smile as well.
You know for a fact Haley is definitely well, you and Dick had just strolled her around the park a day ago. You did the checkup anyway and nothing was wrong.
“She could use a vaccine, she needs her rabies shots.” Dick says, you put your stethoscope down and nodded. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” you said.
But Dick was not satisfied. “Hey, hey, hey, miss, vet, doc?” you stopped your tracks and turned to him “No kiss? What is this?” you sighed as you walked back to him and kissed him on the cheek.
“See you in a minute doc.” he grins, you said nothing and quickly walked away.
The nurses and staff snickered and teased you all day, you couldn’t do anything but flush at their attempts of teasing you.
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no-144444 · 3 months ago
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nothing has to change- o.piastri
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your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.
pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader
warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist, mentions of crashes and injuries.
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten
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You were the World Driver’s Champion, as of 4pm that day. Yes, that could change in the next few races, half the season was still left, but you were proud. 
And so was Oscar. 
He stood at the very front of the barricade, a bright smile on his face as you ran over, wrapping your arms around him and the rest of his family. 
“You did it,” he whispered. “You’re amazing.”
You smiled, pulling your helmet off. “I did it.”
You felt proud of yourself. Proud that you could still excel in a team that didn’t want you. Proud that you had given them the points. Proud that you had let Oscar into your life. Proud that you had proved yourself worthy of RedBull, and much more. 
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You sat beside Oscar and Nicole at the dinner, across from Lando and Zak (who had invited themselves, much to Oscar’s chagrin). You quietly chatted to Nicole as Oscar made pleasant conversation with Zak and Lando. She noticed how you weren’t really… there. You kept looking at Lando, or Zak, or another team member. You were uncomfortable, nothing like the headstrong, loud girl she’d met yesterday. You were shy, reserved, and a little on edge. 
When you left the table to go to the bathroom, she tapped her son. “Get her out of here.”
He shrugged, sighing. “She won’t want to be rude-”
“Oscar, she’ll do anything you ask her to. Go.” 
He nodded, following you with your bag and jacket in hand. Kids these days. 
“Going to fuck her?” Lando scoffed, too drunk for his own good. A lot of the table stopped and gasped. Lando had never been so… vulgar. Oscar was disgusted. Just because neither you or Oscar worshipped the ground he walked on, didn’t mean he had to make the both of you miserable.
“What is your problem?” Oscar finally couldn’t take it. It was bullshit, Lando was an asshole. 
“It’s clear you’re in love with her,” he chuckled. 
“Fuck off Lando,” he shouted. “You’re such a dick! You’re so self-absorbed you wouldn’t even recognise someone interesting if they actually slapped you in the face. You don’t understand Y/n, and for her sake I hope you never get close enough to. You are a shallow, shitty, infuriatingly untalented asshole, with an ego the size of England. Maybe I’m in love with her, but at least I don’t act like she’s not there to feed my own tiny ego.”
And he turned around to see you standing there, a shocked expression on your face. You looked slightly terrified too, but he just decided to blame the shock. 
“Y/n I-“ he started but you cut him off by grabbing your things from his hands, and turning tail. The entire room was silent for a moment. “Fuck!” Oscar groaned, running out after you. 
He couldn’t have, he didn’t. He didn’t fuck this up. Lando didn’t fuck this up for him. He didn’t. 
He better not have. 
He raced through the streets of a city he didn’t really know, pleading that he’d find you. When he did, it was from a distance. You were sitting in a park. Your head in your hands. 
Lando had fucked it up for him. Slowly, he walked closer, too cautious to startle you. 
“I’m sorry about… back there-” he whispered. 
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” you sighed. “I just… it’s a lot, yeah? I don't exactly see myself as the poster-girl for romance.”
He looked at you. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve never really done this before. And I’m awkward and weird, and I’m rude to you-” 
“I don’t mind if you’re rude to me-” 
“You should,” you told him. 
You were both quiet for a moment, and he understood that this was a fork in the road. He could either push you too far, or he’d ruin everything if you felt the same by not speaking up now. The air was charged with an uncertain electricity, and he wasn’t perfectly sure what to do. Oscar was a man of logic, but love was illogical. He liked facts and numbers and a set of rules to follow. He didn’t like feeling uncertain. 
But he was happy to feel uncertain if it meant he kept you. 
“This doesn’t have to change anything,” he told you. “If you don’t want it to, we don’t have to do anything about it. I’m happy to be your friend. I’m not expecting anything.”
You looked at him, and when he saw the unshed tears in your eyes, his heart hurt. He gently reached a hand up and cupped your cheek, carefully wiping them away. 
“I don’t want anything to change,” you admitted. “I really like having you around Oscar.” 
He smiled, though he was slightly disappointed. Rejection from the pretty girl he was in love with was going to sting either way, even if she’d just told him that she actually enjoyed his presence. “That’s fine with me,” he whispered. 
You stared at him, silently asking for reassurance, and he nodded. 
“I’m sorry I can’t be-”
“Don’t apologise,” he reminded you. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“I think I do,” you said, looking down again. “I just… I’m not in the headspace to be in a relationship. McLaren is really… it’s a lot for me.”
So you did like him back? He couldn’t really decipher what that meant, but he’d work on it another time. 
“That’s alright,” he smiled. 
You couldn’t be more shocked by his behaviour. Yes, Oscar was the nicest man you knew, but you assumed he’d be mad, or at least a little bit annoyed at you. But he was just the same, kind, caring, lovely Oscar that he always was. 
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After he walked you back to your hotel room, you stewed over your decision for a few hours. Maybe you did want Oscar like that. Maybe you were just self-sabotaging yourself as always. Maybe you were just being more cautious than you needed to be. 
But then you reminded yourself that this was Oscar that you were talking about. The only person in the entire world who supported you. You couldn’t let him get too close, lest he see all of you, and then you were sure he’d be gone for good.
You couldn't lose him. 
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seungfl0wer · 2 months ago
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*𝐵𝒶𝓇 𝐵𝑒𝒶𝓊𝓉𝓎*
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Pairing: Biker!Minho x Reader (Fem)
Genre: Smut
Warnings: Mentions of cheating, Oral (M), Outdoors Sex, Unprotected, Pull out game (wow not a Creampie? What is this?) think that’s it. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings
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-🖤
Minho was a regular at your bar, he always came in sitting away from everyone. He kept to himself however always flirted with you. It was cute, he was cute. However you were in a relationship.
“So gonna let me take you for a ride beautiful?” He’d ask.
“I don’t know, let me ask my boyfriend” you’d tease back.
This is how it always went, he never pressured you. Never did anything to make it feel weird. He was always respectful. Today when he came in he asked you like normal but when you responded he was taken back.
“So you ready for that ride today?” He’d said wiggling his eyebrows.
“I get off in 30” you said smiling but acting like you were cleaning the counter.
He looked at you puzzled for a second “wait really?” He asked.
“Yeah, unless you’re to chicken now since I said yes” you’d teased.
“What about your boyfriend?” He asked.
You pointed to a booth, a man who was tongue deep with a woman. “Looks like I don’t have one anymore” you shrugged.
His eyes went wide “I’ll kick his ass that little-“ he started as he got up.
“Don’t bother, he’s not even worth it. He’s dumb enough to come here. Out of all places” you laughed.
Minho was almost confused on how much you didn’t care. Maybe it was something that was coming for a long time. Or maybe it was the fact after seeing this you lost any feeling you had for him when you saw him cheating. Either way Minho wasn’t gonna waste the opportunity. Not when he’s found you attractive for so long.
He stayed at the bar like normal staring at you a little harder than he normally did. When your shift was up he handed you his helmet telling you he’d rather have you protected than him. When you walked out with him your ex got up realizing you were here today. “Y/n!” He yelled. He ran outside after the two of you as you got on the back of Minhos bike.
“What the hell are you doing!” He said walking towards you.
“Sorry I don’t date cheaters” you say with a wave as Minho revved his engine. You wrapped your arms around him giving him butterflies. Before you knew it he was speeding off. It felt freeing. You’d missed so many opportunities to do this and for what? A cheater?
You held onto Minho tightly as he tuned to pull off into a gas station. He tapped your head to take off the helmet. “I gotta give you a little run down real quick.” When you nodded he continued. “So turns you gotta move your body with mine ok? Gotta move the weight with the bike. You can hold onto the small handles on the back too. Also if you keep squeezing me like that we are gonna have a problem” he said his tone teasing with that last part.
You blushed a bit but everything right now felt exciting. You were definitely gonna test the waters. When you got back in the road you let your hands slip lower. Letting them rest on thighs. You felt his body tense a bit before relaxing into your touch. You took it as a sign moving them up more until they were inches away from his crotch.
You couldn’t hear anything but he let out a sigh his cock growing harder by the minute. He saw a sign for a hiking trail turning onto the road knowing no one would be there at this time. When he pulled in you were a bit confused taking off your helmet to look at him. “You gonna murder me out here?” You joked.
“Oh totally, definitely didn’t pull off cause of someone’s hands.” He teased back.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you said innocently.
He turned your body on the bike making sure you wouldn’t fall. Putting the stand down before pulling your body to his. You could feel how hard he was against you. “I told you we’d have a problem didn’t I?” He said with a smirk.
He put his hand under your chin your faces inches away from one another’s. Neither of you moved for a few seconds before you broke the silence “you gonna kiss me or just keep staring” you said. The smirk that spread across his face was enough to make you wet. God was he ever so hot. He wrapped your legs around him as he kissed you deeply. His lips were as soft as they looked, they felt like little pillows. He tasted like the alcohol he was drinking with a hint of mint from his gum.
His hand came down to your waist as he grinned his cock into you. You let out a soft moan into the kiss letting his tongue slide in. He kissed you with such need before pulling away slightly “god I’ve wanted you for so long” he said almost desperately.
“I’ve actually had a- recurring dream of you” you admitted.
“Yeah? Tell me”
“You sat on your bike while use my mouth” you said a bit shyly.
He stared at you like you just said the hottest thing in the world to him “let’s make it a reality then” he said moving away from you to get into position. He slipped his pants down a small bit letting his painfully hard cock finally spring forward. Your mouth almost watered at the sight of him.
You inched yourself closer to him kissing the tip of his cock. Slowly licking it before taking him back your throat. His hands gripped at your head before pushing back as far as he could. “Gonna let me use this pretty mouth of yours?” He asked. You nodded looking up at him with soft eyes. Ugh how were you so fucking hot he thought to himself. He fucked your mouth slowly quickly getting lost in the feeling. “Fuck you’re taking me so well beautiful” he groaned. He was using your mouth like a flesh light. Fucking into it a little rougher now “fuck- fuck-“ he moaned pulling himself from you.
“Come here” he said positioning you on his bike. He had you bent over the seat. He slipped your pants down just enough. Before moving the tip of his cock up and down your now soaked folds. “All this for me?”
“Yes- all for you” you groaned.
He wasted no time before slowly pushing into you. His body almost trembled at the feeling of your warm walls sucking him in. He gripped at your thighs as he pushed into you fully cock hitting your most sensitive spots. “Y/n fuck- you- ah- feel so good” he moaned out.
You gripped at the bike as he pounded into you the sounds of sex and moans filing the woods that surrounded you. His hand left your hip coming around to play with your clit. He rubbed circles around it, it was like he knew your body already. “Beautiful I’m sorry- I’m not gonna last- ah- fuck-“ he moaned out.
“It’s ok- ah- I’m- I’m close too” you moaned back.
“Cum with me- please- shit I’m- I’m so close” he said his thrust becoming sloppier and sloppier.
His fingers found your weak spot moving over it making your body shake. “I’m- cumming!” You screamed your orgasm creeping up on you faster than expected. Your walls tightened as you came making him pull out cumming on the ground below him. “Fuck- fuck-“ he moaned.
He pulled your body to his holding you tightly against him. “Are you ok?” He asked breathily.
“Mhm. Just. A little cold” you said back.
With no hesitation he took off his leather jacket wrapping it around you. “How about we go back to my place? We can.. cuddle” he said with a shy smile.
“That sounds perfect”
After that day Minho came to pick you up from work every night. Finally making it official after a week. He even scared your ex away that tried showing up at the bar after you blocked him. You wished you did this way sooner but he was finally yours now and he wouldn’t let you go even if you wanted.
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💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵
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xiaq · 4 months ago
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Did you ever work in customer service? You give off been-in-the-trenches-and-are-better-for-it vibes.
Hi, this is slightly unhinged, but thank you!!
Now you're going to get the story of how I was offered a job on the spot for the first ever position I ever interviewed for (which was, indeed, customer service).
Okay, so, I'm 15, my birthday is in two days, and HEB (Texas grocery store) is hiring baggers for $7 an hour and cashiers for a whole whopping $10 an hour. Cashiers have to have prior experience OR have to work as a bagger for a year first. But I am full of teenage verve and I want that cashier position. I want it now.
I show up on my motorcycle, so I'm in my "professional" outfit but carrying my helmet when I enter the hiring manager's office, which really sets the tone for how things proceed.
The interviewer is like, "how old are you?" and babyface mcgee me, five foot tall and all of 90lbs says, "Fifteen. But I'm sixteen in two days."
And he's like, "...we can't hire you if you're fifteen."
And I'm like, "bet, but you can get the paperwork started now, yeah?"
And he says, "wait, how did you drive a motorcycle here if you're 15?"
So the first 5 minutes of the interview turn into me showing him my license, explaining DMV rules re 15-yr-olds and permitted engine size for motorcycles and pointing out my bike in the parking lot.
"Okay," he says, clearly trying to rally. "So you have a method of transportation, that's great, but we can't consider you for the cashier job if you don't have experience. We can only consider you as a bagger."
I'm prepared for this. I lay out my most recent report card, as well as copies of the sports and academic awards I've achieved in the last year. I give my "I'm a fast learner, I'm a hard worker, and you'll benefit more from me working as a cashier, interacting with customers, than a bagger" speech. I've been buying groceries at this store my whole life, so I know that cashiers are ranked by how many 'Item of the Week' they manage to hawk at checkout (typically batteries or soda or chips). "I'll be top of the ranking for Item of the week, just you wait."
I think he is reluctantly charmed by my bull-headedness. "Okay,” he says, reaching for the can of coke on his desk. "Fine. Sell this to me, then. Right now."
This man is mid-forties. He has bad handmade artwork hung up on his office wall.
"Do you have kids?" I ask, already knowing the answer.
"Two," he says. "Boy and a girl. The girl is just a year younger than you, actually."
"Ah," I say, "is it getting harder and harder to connect with her? Monosyllabic answers? Spends all her time in her room."
"...yes," he says.
“I was the same,” I say somberly. “Until, one afternoon, my dad came into my room and handed me a Coke.”
I tap my fingers on the Coke in front of me.
“He told me to come share a drink with him while he grilled on the back porch and that once I’d finished my Coke I could crawl, hissing, back to my room, but he wanted company until then. And see, I did, actually, want to spend time with my dad. I just didn’t know how to initiate it, and my teenage hormones made it difficult for me to express that. So I took the Coke and stomped my way outside but once I was there, I drank it slowly. And I answered his questions about school and cheerleading and asked him about work and we planned a weekend father-daughter motorcycle trip into the hill country. And ever since then, every few days, he’ll come to my room and offer me a Coke, and I’ll spend half an hour drinking it in his company.”
I slide the coke across the desk to him. “Might be an approach to try with your daughter, what do you think?”
He catches the Coke automatically. He sighs.
"Yeah, alright," he says. "Cashier job is yours. Come back in two days when you're actually sixteen and we'll get your paperwork sorted out." I worked there for the rest of high school and I was, typically, top of the rankings for selling Items of the Week the entire duration.
Entirely unrelated, I hate coke. I don’t drink soda, and the only beverage my dad has ever shared with me on the back porch is a margarita. But he didn’t need to know that.
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00valentina-writes00 · 2 months ago
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On and Off the Ice
Synopsis: Dating Violet had always felt like a whirlwind—an exhilarating mix of confidence, chaos, and heart-stopping tenderness. As the star hockey player of Piltover High, she’s used to being the center of attention, both on and off the rink. But beneath her cocky grin and varsity jacket is someone fiercely protective, painfully loyal, and quietly vulnerable—someone who surprises you every day. From stolen moments in the locker room to after-hours skating dates under dim lights, being with Vi means navigating the highs and lows of teenage love: defending each other from bullies, learning t o trust in moments of vulnerability, and realizing that love isn’t just about grand gestures—it’s about the quiet ways you hold each other up when no one else will.
Warnings:
• Mild violence (fistfights, hockey injuries, tense confrontations)
• Flirting from third parties and minor jealousy themes
• Brief language (Vi has a mouth on her)
• Lots of softness hidden under layers of teen angst
• Sexual content
(Note: This story includes fluff, a pinch of angst, and a whole lot of protective girlfriend energy.)
•||——————————————————————||•
The roar of the crowd is deafening as you sit perched on the edge of your seat, your hands clenched around a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Piltover High’s rink is alive tonight—students packed shoulder to shoulder in the stands, stomping and chanting Vi’s name like it’s the only word they’ve ever known.
And there she is.
Violet. Your Violet.
She’s a blur of magenta hair, sharp turns, and calculated aggression as she skates past two opposing players, juking them out so hard one of them stumbles and eats ice. The puck is a silver streak as it sails from her stick and past the goalie’s outstretched glove, slamming into the back of the net.
GOAL.
The crowd loses it. The band strikes up the school fight song. Vi skates backward with her hands raised, smirking up at the stands until her eyes lock on yours. She points at you with her stick, then taps the tattooed “VI” on her cheek for emphasis. Your cheeks burn, and you’re grateful for the chaos masking how flustered she always makes you.
“She’s so damn cocky,” a voice mutters next to you, but it’s laced with admiration.
You glance over to find one of her teammates’ sisters sitting nearby, shaking her head with a grin. “Tell me about it,” you reply, but you can’t help smiling. She’s earned it.
When the game ends in a crushing victory for Piltover High, you find yourself waiting by the locker room doors, holding a paper bag of her favorite post-game snack: a massive soft pretzel covered in salt and cheese. It’s something you’d started bringing her after her first win during your relationship, and now, it’s practically sacred.
The door swings open, and Vi is the first one out, still in her pads but missing her helmet. Her grin stretches from ear to ear, damp strands of magenta hair sticking to her forehead.
“There’s my good luck charm,” she says as soon as she spots you.
“Good luck? Please. You were already a badass,” you tease, handing her the bag.
She takes it and immediately pulls out the pretzel, ripping a bite with her teeth. “Badass or not, I play better when I know you’re watching.”
Her teammates file out behind her, laughing and jostling each other, but their teasing stops when they see the two of you.
“Aw, Vi’s got her snack date,” one of the guys calls out.
“Careful, she might actually start smiling like a normal human,” another chimes in.
Vi flips them off without missing a beat, her mouth still full of pretzel. “Jealous much? Your girl bring you a snack? Oh wait.” She feigns an exaggerated look around before smirking at the teammate who’d made the comment.
The guy groans, waving her off, and they all shuffle away, leaving the two of you alone.
You and Vi walk home together, her arm draped loosely over your shoulders. She’s still buzzing from the game, recounting every play in vivid detail, her energy practically radiating off her.
“—and then did you see that block? I thought that asshole was gonna nail me into the boards, but nope! Too slow. And the look on his face when I scored after? Priceless.”
You laugh, tucking yourself closer to her side as the wind picks up. “I saw, Vi. You were amazing.”
“‘Course I was.” She winks, but there’s a soft blush on her cheeks that has nothing to do with the cold.
As you pass under the glow of a flickering streetlamp, she notices the way you shiver, your jacket pulled tight but still not enough to fight the chill.
“Shit,” she mutters, stopping in her tracks. Before you can ask what’s wrong, she shrugs off her varsity jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.
“Vi, you’ll freeze,” you protest, though you don’t try to give it back.
“Please,” she scoffs, flexing her arms with a smirk. “You think these guns can’t handle a little cold? I’m fine. You, on the other hand, look like you’re about to become a popsicle.”
You roll your eyes, but the truth is, the jacket smells like her—a mix of leather, sweat, and the faintest hint of mint gum. You can’t help but pull it tighter around yourself, and Vi grins like she knows exactly what’s going through your head.
“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter, shaking your head.
“And you’re adorable,” she shoots back without missing a beat, leaning in just enough to make your breath hitch. “But you knew that already.”
The walk back to your place is filled with banter, her teasing keeping the mood light. As you reach your door, she leans casually against the frame, her tank top clinging to her skin from the cold.
“You gonna invite me in, or do I have to freeze out here?” she asks, a playful lilt in her voice.
“You’re the one who gave up your jacket,” you point out, unlocking the door.
“Yeah, because I’m chivalrous like that,” she says, stepping inside after you. “And because I can’t let my girl turn into an icicle. Can’t have that on my conscience.”
Inside, she collapses onto your couch, sprawling out like she owns the place. Her long legs stretch across the cushions, and she watches you with that same cocky grin as you set her pretzel bag on the coffee table.
“You’re way too comfortable here,” you tease, plopping down next to her.
“Should be. It’s basically my second home,” she says, pulling you into her lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Her arms wrap around your waist, her hands resting on your hips. “And you… you’re my favorite part of it.”
Her tone is playful, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in her eyes—a softness she rarely lets anyone see.
“Wow, that was almost romantic,” you tease, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.
“Almost?” she asks, her voice dropping an octave as she leans closer.
“Yeah, you’re gonna have to try harder if you wanna impress me.”
“Oh, I’ll impress you,” she murmurs, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I’m already planning on scoring my next goal—you just tell me what the prize is gonna be.”
Her words send a shiver down your spine, but you roll your eyes, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a blush. “How about bragging rights?”
“Bragging rights?” she repeats, mock-offended. “Nah. I want something better. Maybe a kiss. Or two. Or ten.”
Her hands slide down to your thighs, her touch firm yet gentle as she gazes up at you with a crooked grin. “What do you say, babe? Think you can handle rewarding me properly?”
You bite back a laugh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re stuck with me,” she counters, leaning in to press her lips to yours, soft but insistent.
~~~
The cafeteria at midday was a zoo. The roar of chattering students echoed off the linoleum floors, and the acrid smell of reheated spaghetti filled the air. You navigated the crowd carefully, tray balanced precariously in your hands. Across the room, Vi lounged in her usual spot—a corner table near the window where the hockey team had claimed dominion. She looked every bit the queen of her domain, legs sprawled out under the table and arms slung casually over the back of her chair. Her magenta hair was still damp from her morning workout, strands sticking up in unruly spikes.
Her laugh carried over the din, a low, rich sound that always made your stomach flip. You caught her smirking at something one of her teammates said, the sharp edge of her tattoo catching the sunlight streaming through the window. As you approached, Vi’s light gray eyes locked on you, her grin spreading wide.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite distraction,” she drawled, scooting over and patting the empty space beside her on the bench.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “That’s one way to greet your girlfriend.”
Vi leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I could think of other ways, but I’m trying to behave. For now.”
You huffed a laugh, nudging her with your elbow as you set your tray down.
The moment you sat, one of Vi’s teammates—some freshman you couldn’t remember the name of—leaned forward, blatantly checking you out.
“Damn, Vi, how’d you snag someone like that?” they asked, flashing a toothy grin that made your skin crawl.
Vi’s smirk dropped instantly. Her sharp gaze shifted to the offending teammate, and her voice cut through the air like a blade. “Careful, rook. That’s my girl you’re talking about.”
The freshman raised their hands in mock surrender, laughing nervously. “Alright, alright. No harm meant.”
Vi didn’t respond, but her arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer. The possessiveness in the gesture was clear, but there was also a quiet reassurance in the way her fingers traced idle patterns on your hip.
You glanced up at her, catching the flicker of irritation still simmering in her eyes. “You know you don’t have to defend me every time someone’s an idiot, right?” you murmured.
Her lips quirked into a softer smile, but her voice was firm. “Yeah, well, I don’t like idiots thinking they can talk to you like that.”
You sighed but leaned into her touch anyway, letting her protectiveness wrap around you like a shield.
Later, as you were walking to class, another girl—a sophomore with a reputation almost as bold as Vi’s—sidled up to her.
“Hey, Vi,” the girl cooed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “You coming to the party on Friday? I heard you’re single again.”
Vi didn’t even break stride, her hand finding the small of your back as she guided you through the hallway.
“Not single,” she said, her voice clipped but polite. “And not interested.”
The girl blinked, clearly taken aback. “Oh. Well, if you ever change your mind…”
Vi cut her off with a sharp laugh, glancing down at you with a wink. “Not happening. I’ve got everything I need right here.”
The girl scowled, muttering something under her breath before stalking off.
You raised an eyebrow at Vi. “Everything you need, huh?”
“Damn right,” she said, grinning as she leaned down to brush her lips against your ear. “Though, if you wanted to sweeten the deal later, I wouldn’t complain.”
You shoved her playfully, but your cheeks burned all the same.
The tension hit its peak during lunch a few days later. You were sitting beside Vi, absentmindedly picking at your food, when a particularly smug classmate decided to make their move.
“Hey, Vi,” they called out from the next table over. “Didn’t know you were into charity cases.”
The words hung in the air like a slap. Your stomach twisted, and you felt the heat rising in your cheeks. Before you could even process what was happening, Vi was on her feet, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.
“What the fuck did you just say?” she snarled, stalking toward the classmate.
The smirk on their face faltered, but they held their ground. “Relax, it was a joke.”
Vi didn’t relax. If anything, her shoulders squared, and her hands curled into fists at her sides. “Say that shit again, and I’ll make sure you’re eating lunch through a straw.”
“Vi!” you hissed, grabbing her arm. “It’s not worth it.”
Her jaw clenched, but she allowed you to pull her back, the fire in her eyes still blazing.
The classmate muttered something under their breath, but they didn’t push their luck any further.
By the time the final bell rang, Vi was in detention, and you were still fuming. When she showed up at your house that evening, her usual cocky demeanor was noticeably absent.
You opened the door to find her standing there, one hand clutching a hastily assembled bouquet of wildflowers and the other holding a pack of your favorite candy.
“Before you say anything,” she started, her voice unusually soft, “I know I fucked up.”
You crossed your arms, trying to ignore the way your heart softened at the sight of her sheepish expression. “Vi…”
She held up the bouquet like a peace offering, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at her lips. “Look, I know I shouldn’t have lost my temper, but they were talking shit about you. I couldn’t just stand there.”
You sighed, stepping aside to let her in. “It’s not about standing up for me. It’s about knowing when to pick your battles.”
She nodded, setting the flowers and candy on the kitchen counter. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”
Her sincerity was written all over her face, and it was impossible to stay mad at her.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, a small smile breaking through your stern expression.
Vi’s grin returned in full force. “Damn right I am.”
She closed the distance between you in a few quick strides, her hands finding your hips as she leaned down to kiss you. The kiss was slow and deliberate, a silent promise of her devotion.
When she finally pulled back, her gray eyes were warm and full of mischief. “So… am I forgiven? Or do I need to beg a little more?”
You laughed, swatting her shoulder. “You’re forgiven. For now.”
“Good,” she said, scooping you up into her arms with ease. “Because I’ve got a lot of making up to do.”
As she carried you to the couch, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the wild, fiercely loyal girl who’d stolen your heart.
~~~
The faint hum of your desk lamp cast a warm glow over the cluttered surface of your bedroom, illuminating a scattered array of hockey gear, notebooks, and half-written essays. Vi sat cross-legged in your chair, a pen stuck behind her ear, and her signature smirk plastered on her face like she wasn’t teetering on the edge of failing her English class.
You leaned over her shoulder, scanning the barely legible sentences she had scrawled out in her rough, jagged handwriting. The title at the top of the page read: The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzjerald. You bit back a groan at the misspelling and turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow.
“Fitzjerald?” you teased, your lips twitching into a grin. “I know English isn’t your strong suit, but come on, Vi. You literally had the book right there to copy from.”
She shrugged, leaning back in the chair and propping her feet on your desk with zero shame. “Hey, close enough, right? My teacher’s too busy drinking coffee to notice shit like that. Besides, it’s not like I’m writing the damn thing for an award.”
“You’re writing it to pass,” you reminded her, plucking the pen from behind her ear and playfully tapping it against her forehead. “And if you fail, you’re benched for the next game. You really wanna sit there while Ryan screws up every shot?”
Vi winced at that, letting out a groan of protest. “Ugh, don’t remind me. The last time she tried to take a slap shot, she nearly took out the water cooler.”
“Exactly,” you said, shoving her feet off your desk and sliding into her lap without a second thought. Vi raised an eyebrow at your bold move, her hands instinctively landing on your hips.
“You know,” she began, her voice dropping into that familiar low, teasing tone, “I think this is the kind of motivation I needed. Keep sitting like this, and I might actually start paying attention to what a metaphor is.”
You rolled your eyes, even as your cheeks warmed. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“And yet, you like me anyway,” she shot back, leaning in close enough for her breath to tickle your neck.
You tried to ignore the way her lips brushed against your ear as you refocused on her paper. Her handwriting was a mess, but you managed to decipher enough of it to see where she had gone wrong. “Okay,” you said, shifting your focus to the task at hand. “First of all, it’s ‘Gatsby,’ not ‘Gaspy.’ Second, your entire first paragraph is just you ranting about how you think Daisy is annoying. That’s not exactly analysis, Vi.”
“But she is annoying,” Vi argued, her hands tightening on your waist as she tilted her head back to look at you. “Seriously, she spends the whole book whining about how hard her life is.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at her blunt honesty, shaking your head. “Fair point, but you still need to back it up with evidence from the text.”
“Evidence, huh?” Vi’s gray eyes sparkled mischievously as her fingers started to trail up your sides, dangerously close to distracting territory. “Maybe I need some hands-on tutoring to really get the hang of it.”
“Vi,” you warned, though your voice came out more amused than stern.
“What?” she asked innocently, her lips ghosting over your jawline. “I’m just saying, you’re really good at motivating me. It’s practically a public service.”
You tried to keep your composure, but it was a losing battle. Vi knew exactly how to get under your skin—literally and figuratively. Her hands slipped down to your thighs, squeezing gently as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear.
“Vi,” you repeated, your tone a mix of exasperation and affection. “We’re supposed to be working on your paper, not—”
“Not this?” she interrupted, her voice a low murmur as her lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
You let out a shaky breath, your resolve wavering as her hands slid under the hem of your shirt, her touch warm and teasing. “You’re such a distraction,” you muttered, though you made no move to stop her.
“And you love it,” she shot back, her lips curling into a smirk against your skin.
Her hands drifted lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants with a confidence that sent a shiver down your spine. You tried to focus on the stack of notes in front of you, but Vi’s touch was impossible to ignore.
“Vi, seriously,” you said, though your voice lacked any real conviction. “If you fail this paper, I’m not bailing you out.”
“Relax,” she said, her tone laced with amusement. “I’ve got this under control.”
You raised an eyebrow at her, clearly unconvinced. “Oh really? What’s a symbol, then?”
Vi paused, her lips hovering just above your collarbone as she considered your question. “Uh… like… a thing that stands for another thing?”
You groaned, smacking her lightly on the shoulder. “You’re hopeless.”
“Hopelessly into you,” she countered with a grin, earning herself another playful smack.
Despite her antics, you couldn’t help but smile at her. Vi might have been a pain in the ass sometimes, but she had a way of making even the most mundane moments feel electric.
“Alright, fine,” you said, leaning back just enough to look her in the eye. “If you can write a halfway decent paragraph about Gatsby’s green light, I’ll consider forgiving you for being such a pain.”
Vi’s eyes lit up with determination, and she reached for the pen you had been holding. “Deal. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook either,” she added, her voice dropping into a playful growl as she pressed a kiss to your jaw.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, unable to keep the grin off your face.
As Vi turned her attention back to her paper, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection for her. Sure, she was a handful, but she was your handful—and that made all the difference.
~~~
The hallway is loud and alive with the buzz of students between classes—shouts of friends across lockers, laughter, and the occasional clatter of someone dropping their books. You’re standing at your locker, minding your own business, when it starts.
“Hey, heard you’re dating Vi,” a sharp voice cuts through the noise.
You glance over your shoulder to see them—three of them, to be exact. The self-proclaimed queens of drama, all armed with smirks and matching sneers. You feel the tension in your shoulders immediately, a gut feeling telling you this won’t end well.
“Is that even a thing? You know, dating Vi?” another one pipes up, twirling a strand of overly straightened hair.
You roll your eyes, shutting your locker with a deliberate slam. “What do you want?”
The tallest one steps forward, crossing her arms. “Just trying to understand what’s going on. She’s not exactly… girlfriend material, is she? More like someone you hook up with and then pretend didn’t happen.”
The others laugh like it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever heard, and your hands curl into fists at your sides. You know Vi’s reputation precedes her—a bad girl, a player, a bit of a hothead—but they don’t know her like you do.
“Maybe you should keep her on a leash,” another one snickers, leaning against the lockers like she owns the place. “You know, so she doesn’t find someone else to mess around with.”
“Say that again,” you snap before you can stop yourself, voice sharp and full of anger.
“What’s going on here?”
The voice behind you makes your heart drop and rise all at once. Vi steps into view, her presence like a thundercloud rolling into a sunny day. She’s wearing her hockey jacket, the collar popped, hands stuffed in her pockets like she’s daring someone to test her patience. Her gray eyes are locked on the group in front of you, a dangerous glint sparking to life.
“Oh, look, it’s Vi,” the tall one says, her smirk faltering for a second before she doubles down. “What, here to play hero for your little—”
“Finish that sentence, and I swear to god, you’ll regret it,” Vi growls, stepping closer.
The girls shift uncomfortably, glancing between each other, but their leader doesn’t back down. “What? You’re gonna hit me? Right here, in front of everyone?”
Vi’s jaw tightens, and you can see the way her hands twitch in her pockets, itching to do something. “Maybe I will. Might finally shut you up.”
“Vi,” you say softly, reaching out to touch her arm. She doesn’t look at you, her eyes locked on the group like a predator stalking prey.
The leader rolls her eyes, feigning confidence. “What’s your problem, anyway? We were just talking to your little plaything here.”
And that’s the moment. That’s when Vi snaps.
She pulls her hand from her pocket and slams her fist into the locker next to the girl’s head. The sound is deafening, metal denting under the force, and the entire hallway goes silent. Gasps ripple through the crowd that’s gathered to watch, and the girls stumble back, faces pale.
“Next time you say something like that,” Vi says, her voice low and full of venom, “it won’t be the locker.”
“Alright, alright!” one of them stammers, grabbing the leader’s arm and tugging her away. “We’re going!”
As they scurry off, you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The hallway slowly returns to normal, students whispering and casting glances your way as they disperse.
Vi turns to you, her hand still clenched into a fist, her knuckles already swelling. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” you say, voice softer than you mean it to be.
She nods, her jaw still tight, and you know better than to push her right now. “Let’s get out of here.”
Back at her place, the tension in the air is thick. Vi’s pacing, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides, while you sit on her bed with the first aid kit open beside you.
“Sit,” you say firmly, and she finally stops, collapsing onto the edge of the bed with a frustrated groan.
She doesn’t look at you as you take her hand, turning it over to inspect the damage. Her knuckles are red and raw, already bruising, and you can’t help but wince.
“You’re lucky you didn’t break anything,” you mutter, grabbing a clean cloth and some antiseptic.
“Don’t care,” she mumbles, staring at the floor.
“Clearly,” you shoot back, dabbing at her knuckles gently. She hisses but doesn’t pull away.
The silence stretches between you, heavy and awkward, until she finally speaks. “I’m sorry.”
You pause, looking up at her. “For what?”
“For… losing it. For embarrassing you. For not being able to keep my shit together,” she says, her voice low and full of guilt. “I just… I can’t stand it when people talk about you like that.”
You set the cloth down and cup her face, forcing her to meet your eyes. “Vi, you didn’t embarrass me. And I’m not mad at you. I’m… I’m grateful, okay? For standing up for me.”
Her eyes soften, the storm inside them calming just a little. “I just hate that they think they can say shit like that. About you. About us.”
“Let them talk,” you say with a shrug. “They don’t matter. You do.”
Her lips twitch into a small smile, and she leans into your touch, her forehead resting against yours. “You’re too good for me, you know that?”
“And yet, here I am,” you tease, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.
Her hands slide around your waist, pulling you closer until you’re practically in her lap. “You’re the only good thing I’ve got.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” you say with a laugh, but your heart flutters at her words.
“Not dramatic,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against your neck. “Just honest.”
Your breath catches as her hands wander, and for a moment, all the tension, the anger, the hurt—it all melts away, leaving just the two of you and the quiet promise of better days ahead.
~~~
The faint hum of fluorescent lights buzzes overhead as Vi leads you through the back entrance of the rink. You’re not sure what you expected when she showed up at your place with that crooked grin and her car idling in the driveway, but the last thing on your mind was this.
The arena is quiet, a far cry from the deafening chaos of game nights. The chill in the air seeps through your jacket, making you shiver as Vi flips on a row of lights, flooding the empty rink with a soft, golden glow. The ice glimmers, smooth and untouched.
Vi turns to you, her hands jammed into the pockets of her oversized hoodie. “Figured you’d get a kick outta this,” she says, her voice casual, though you catch the flicker of nervousness in her eyes. “It’s kinda my second home, y’know? Thought I’d share it with you.”
You blink at her, a little caught off guard by the gesture. “You broke us into the hockey rink? Is this supposed to be romantic or just mildly illegal?”
She smirks, that signature cocky expression slipping easily onto her face. “Why can’t it be both?”
“Fair point,” you concede, fighting the grin tugging at your lips.
She bends down, pulling out a pair of skates from a duffel bag she’d brought along. “Hope you’re ready to bust your ass, though,” she teases, tossing you a pair of skates. “You can skate, right?”
You hesitate, holding the skates like they might bite you. “Define ‘can.’ If it involves flailing around like a baby deer on a frozen pond, then sure, I’m a pro.”
Vi barks a laugh, the sound echoing in the empty arena. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll catch you if you fall.” She winks, her gray eyes sparkling with mischief, and your stomach does a little flip despite yourself.
Minutes later, you’re on the ice, and you weren’t kidding—you’re terrible.
Your legs wobble uncontrollably, your arms flailing as you try to stay upright. Vi skates backward in front of you, one hand on your hip, the other gripping your hand firmly to keep you steady. Her movements are fluid and effortless, the years of practice evident in the way she glides across the ice like she was born to it.
“Relax,” she says, her voice low and soothing, a stark contrast to the usual cocky tone you’re used to. “You’re too stiff.”
“I’m on ice, Vi,” you snap, though the panic in your voice undermines the bite. “Being stiff is the only thing keeping me alive right now.”
She laughs again, the sound warm and rich, and it annoys you how much you love it. “You’re fine. Just trust me.”
You shoot her a dubious look, but her grip is steady, her touch grounding. Slowly, reluctantly, you let her guide you, her hands shifting as she maneuvers you across the ice.
“See? Not so bad,” she murmurs after a while, her breath puffing out in little clouds in the cold air.
You’re about to argue when your skate catches on something, and you stumble forward, yelping. True to her word, Vi catches you, her arms wrapping around your waist as she steadies you.
“Careful there, Bambi,” she teases, her breath warm against your ear.
You groan, mortified, as you clutch at her shoulders. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” she counters, her grin smug. “You love me.”
She says it like a joke, but there’s something in her tone that makes your heart skip. You look up at her, and for a moment, the teasing fades. Her gray eyes are soft, her usual bravado tempered by something quieter, something vulnerable.
Your breath catches, and suddenly, you’re very aware of how close you are, the heat of her body a stark contrast to the chill in the air.
“Vi…”
“C’mon,” she says quickly, breaking the moment. She takes your hands again, pulling you back upright. “Let’s try that again, yeah?”
By the time you’re done, your legs feel like jelly, and you’re pretty sure you’ve pulled muscles you didn’t even know you had. Vi helps you off the ice, her arm slung casually around your shoulders as you hobble toward the bench.
“You didn’t do too bad for a newbie,” she says, handing you a water bottle.
You glare at her, still catching your breath. “I fell six times.”
“Yeah, but you only face-planted twice. That’s improvement.”
You snort despite yourself, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”
She grins, leaning back against the bench. “You love it.”
You roll your eyes but don’t deny it.
For a while, you sit in comfortable silence, the stillness of the rink wrapping around you like a cocoon. Vi leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees, and you catch her glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.
“What?” you ask, your brow arching.
“Nothing,” she says, but there’s a faint flush creeping up her neck, barely visible under the golden light.
You tilt your head, studying her. It’s rare to see Vi flustered—usually, she’s all cocky smirks and bold one-liners. The sight of her like this, vulnerable and uncertain, tugs at something deep inside you.
“Vi,” you say softly, scooting closer to her. “What’s going on?”
She exhales, running a hand through her magenta hair. “Look, I know I can be…a lot,” she admits, her voice quieter than usual. “But I—” She stops, her jaw tightening like she’s struggling to find the right words.
You reach out, your hand covering hers. “Hey,” you say gently. “Take your time.”
Her eyes meet yours, and for a moment, she looks like she’s about to bolt. But then she sighs, leaning back against the bench.
“I just…I really like you, okay?” she blurts out, her cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. “And not in the ‘hey, you’re hot, let’s make out’ kind of way—though, you know, I wouldn’t say no to that either.” She smirks, though it’s more nervous than cocky. “But, like…you’re different. You make me wanna be better, y’know?”
Your heart swells, and you have to fight the urge to tackle her right then and there. Instead, you lean in, resting your forehead against hers.
“Vi,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I like you too. A lot.”
She blinks, clearly surprised, and you can’t help but laugh at the expression on her face.
“What? Did you think I’d come out here in the middle of the night and risk breaking my ass on the ice for just anyone?”
Her grin returns, brighter than ever, and she closes the distance between you, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s equal parts sweet and electric.
When you finally pull away, you’re both grinning like idiots, the world outside the rink forgotten.
The moment Vi’s front door slams shut behind you, her hands are on you, pulling you in with a hungry, primal urgency. Her lips crash against yours, and the taste of mint gum and adrenaline courses through your mouth. Her teeth graze your bottom lip—a small tease that sends a shiver down your spine. You stumble backward, but she steadies you, her strong arms wrapping around your waist as she deepens the kiss.
“Christ, you’re fucking addictive,” she mutters against your lips, her voice low and rough like gravel. Her hands slide up your back, fingers fumbling with the clasp of your bra. She growls in frustration when it doesn’t give way immediately, and you can’t help but laugh into her mouth.
“Impatient much?” you tease, tugging lightly at the silver hoop in her ear.
She pulls back just enough to flash you that signature cocky grin, her light gray eyes glinting with mischief. “You try being patient when you’ve got this in front of you.” Her hands drop to grip your hips, squeezing possessively. “Now, come on, upstairs before I lose my damn mind.”
You don’t argue. Not when she’s looking at you like that—like she wants to devour you whole. The two of you barely make it up the stairs without tripping over each other, her lips finding yours again halfway up. By the time you reach her bedroom, your shirt is already off, tossed somewhere behind you, and her hands are working on your jeans.
Vi kicks her bedroom door shut with her foot, the lock clicking into place. Her room is exactly what you’d expect from her—messy, chaotic, and full of personality. Hockey sticks lean against the wall, mismatched socks litter the floor, and posters of bands you’ve never heard of cover the walls. But you barely have time to take it all in before she’s pushing you backward onto her bed.
Her hands are everywhere now, tracing the curves of your body with a kind of reverence that makes your breath hitch. She straddles you, leaning down to capture your lips again, her kisses softer this time but no less intense. Her tongue slips into your mouth, teasing and exploring, and you moan softly into her, your hands gripping the fabric of her tank top.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” she murmurs, pulling away just long enough to yank her own shirt off and toss it aside. Her muscles ripple under her skin, the tattoos and scars telling stories of battles fought and won. You run your fingers along the dark gray ‘VI’ on her cheek, and she smirks, catching your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm.
“Like what you see?” she asks, her voice dripping with confidence.
“You know I do,” you reply, arching an eyebrow. “But aren’t you supposed to be doing something about it?”
Vi chuckles—a low, throaty sound that reverberates through you. “Oh, I��m gonna do plenty about it.” Her hands move to your chest, cupping your breasts through your bra before finally freeing them from the flimsy fabric. She leans down, her lips brushing against your collarbone, then lower, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When she takes one nipple into her mouth, sucking gently, you let out a shaky breath, your fingers tangling in her choppy magenta hair.
“Fuck, Vi…”
She hums appreciatively, switching to the other breast. Her tongue flicks over your nipple, and you squirm beneath her, the heat between your legs growing more insistent. Her hands slide down your sides, stopping at the waistband of your jeans. With practiced ease, she unbuttons them and yanks them down, tossing them onto the floor with the rest of your clothes.
You’re completely exposed now, and her gaze rakes over you hungrily. “Jesus Christ,” she breathes, her voice cracking slightly. “You’re perfect.”
Before you can respond, she’s kissing her way down your stomach, her lips soft yet demanding. Each press of her mouth leaves a lingering warmth, and by the time she reaches the edge of your panties, you’re trembling with anticipation. She hooks her fingers under the fabric, dragging them down slowly, and you lift your hips to help her.
And then she’s there, her breath hot against your most sensitive spot. Her eyes meet yours, and there’s a wicked gleam in them that makes your heart skip a beat. “You ready for me?” she asks, her voice husky.
“Yes,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.
That’s all the encouragement she needs. Her tongue drags through your folds in one slow, deliberate stroke, and you gasp, your head falling back against the pillows. She repeats the motion, each lick sending sparks shooting through your veins. When she circles your clit, flicking it with the tip of her tongue, you whimper, your fingers gripping the sheets.
“You taste so fucking good,” she groans, her words muffled against you. Her hands grip your thighs, holding you open as she works you relentlessly. Her tongue is skilled and relentless, alternating between gentle licks and firm pressure until you’re writhing beneath her, desperate for release.
“Vi… please…”
She hums again, the vibration making you cry out. Her pace quickens, her tongue swirling around your clit as her fingers slide inside you, pumping steadily. The combination is overwhelming, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.
“Come for me,” she orders, her voice rough and commanding. And just like that, you shatter, your body convulsing as pleasure floods through you. She doesn’t stop, drawing out every last wave of ecstasy until you’re boneless and spent.
When she finally pulls away, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she looks up at you with a smug smirk. “Told you I’d ruin you.”
You laugh breathlessly, still trying to catch your breath. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get cocky.”
She crawls back up the bed, hovering over you with a playful glint in her eye. “Who, me? Never.” Her lips find yours again, and you can taste yourself on her tongue—a fact that only makes you want her more.
“Your turn,” you murmur against her lips, your hands sliding down her toned abdomen, pausing at the waistband of her shorts. “Let me—”
She catches your wrist, her smirk widening. “Uh-uh. I’m not done with you yet.”
Her hand slides between your legs, fingers grazing your slick heat once more. You gasp, arching into her touch as she teases you, circling your clit with a maddening lightness. “Thought I told you—I’m going to ruin you tonight.”
“Vi—”
~~~
You wake up slowly, the warmth of Vi’s bicep under your head a comforting weight. It’s the kind of peaceful moment you hadn’t realized you needed. The kind where time feels like it’s been put on pause, just for a few minutes, so you can breathe. You feel her chest rise and fall beneath you, the rhythmic pulse of her heart, steady and strong. You know she’s awake; you can feel her body slightly tensing, but she doesn’t move.
Vi never moves when you’re comfortable, even if she’s stuck. Even if her arm is trapped under your weight, and her body is probably begging for a shift. She won’t wake you. Not until you stir.
Her grip on you isn’t tight, but it’s firm, like she’s making sure you’re there, as if she might lose you the second she blinks. You never thought you’d be the kind of person to fall for someone like Vi. But here you are, head on her arm, wrapped in the warmth of her embrace.
You smile to yourself, stretching your legs out lazily, feeling the way her muscles shift beneath you as you move. She doesn’t flinch, just hums quietly, her voice low and rough from sleep.
“D’you know how cute you look when you’re all cuddled up?” she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep, and a little playful. “I could just… y’know, keep you here forever.”
You chuckle softly, your breath tickling her skin as you shift, just enough to meet her eyes. Vi has the kind of look that makes you want to stay forever, too. Her hair is messy, some strands falling into her eyes, and she’s too stubborn to bother fixing it. She looks so damn unbothered, so… Vi. And it’s perfect.
“You’re not gonna wake me up just to stare at me, are you?” you tease, smirking.
Vi raises an eyebrow, her lips curling into that half-grin that always makes your stomach flip. The one she wears when she knows she’s about to say something that’ll have you questioning whether you’re about to get flirted with or threatened.
“You make it sound like I only stare at you when I’m about to do something mean,” she says, her grin turning mischievous. “I just like watching you when you look like you’re about to drift off into a world of dreams. Makes me think maybe I’ve got some kind of power over you.”
“Right,” you snort, rolling your eyes, but there’s a smile playing on your lips. You’ve never felt safer, more secure in someone’s arms. “If you have ‘power’ over me, I’m in trouble.”
Vi’s laughter is a deep sound, the kind that vibrates through your chest as she pulls you closer. Her arm slides under you, coaxing you to snuggle closer to her side, her hand gently cupping the back of your head. Her fingers thread through your hair, absentmindedly tugging at the strands. It’s a gesture so simple, but it sends a thrill through you every time.
“You’re always in trouble with me, baby,” she says, her tone low, teasing. “But I’m okay with that. You’re worth the trouble.”
Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you’re at a loss for words. You’ve heard Vi joke about her feelings before, but something about the way she says it now—so easy, so sure—hits you like a freight train. She’s not joking. She means it. She’s always been the kind of person to keep her feelings close to her chest, to make jokes out of everything to hide her vulnerability. But right now? She’s open. She’s letting you in.
“You know, you’re not so bad when you’re not causing chaos,” you tease, poking her in the side. Vi’s grin widens, but there’s a softness in her eyes that you’ve never seen before, a quiet kind of affection.
She shifts slightly, making sure you’re tucked comfortably against her side, not letting you slip away. Her hand rests on your hip, fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin. “Maybe I’m not so bad when I’ve got the right company.”
You shift again, this time to look her fully in the face. Vi’s eyes meet yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. That mischievous glint is still there, but it’s softened, replaced with something deeper. Something you’ve seen before but never this raw, never this obvious.
“I’m serious,” she says, her voice barely a whisper. “I never thought I’d get to… feel this way, you know? I’m not the type for this mushy stuff, but when you’re around, it’s like everything else fades. Just you and me.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, your chest tight, emotions swirling in your stomach. Vi never says things like that. Not unless she means them.
“You’re hopeless,” you whisper, your voice thick with affection. “Completely in love with me, huh?”
Vi smirks, her lips brushing your forehead in a soft kiss. “You wish, babe.”
But even as she says it, there’s no hiding the truth behind her eyes. The way her hand tightens around you, almost protective, like she’s afraid to let go. And it hits you then, all at once—Vi’s completely, utterly in love with you. And for the first time, you realize it’s not just the kind of love that comes from adrenaline and rough edges. It’s not the kind that fades after a week or a few laughs. It’s real. The kind of love that sticks.
You reach up and cup her cheek gently, tilting her face towards yours. She doesn’t protest, just lets you guide her, her eyes softening, pupils dilating.
“You know, you can’t hide that from me forever,” you tease, grinning as she shifts uncomfortably under your gaze. “I’m pretty sure you’re head over heels.”
Vi scoffs but there’s no bite to it. She pulls you closer instead, her lips hovering near yours. “Fine. Maybe I’m hopeless. Maybe I’ve been completely wrapped up in you for longer than I want to admit.” She pauses, her eyes searching yours as if looking for something. “But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna be all sappy about it.”
You laugh softly, pressing your lips to hers in a slow, tender kiss. The kind of kiss that makes the world outside feel like it doesn’t exist. Like there’s only Vi, and there’s only you, and nothing else matters.
When you pull back, Vi’s expression is unreadable for a moment, like she’s trying to figure out what just happened. Her hand slips from your waist to the back of your neck, pulling you into another kiss, a little deeper this time. She’s not shy with her affection, not with you.
“Maybe you’ve got a point,” she mutters against your lips. “Maybe I am in love with you.”
You smile against her mouth, letting her kiss you for as long as she wants, before you pull back, eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. “I thought you said you weren’t sappy.”
She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Shut up, smartass. I don’t do mushy, alright?”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, tough girl,” you tease, your voice dripping with amusement. “But you know you’re stuck with me, right?”
Vi smiles, a genuine, soft smile that makes your heart melt. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The moment lingers between you two, quiet and intimate, as if the world outside has ceased to exist. For once, everything feels right. You’re exactly where you need to be. And, for the first time in a long while, Vi’s walls are down. She’s not hiding, not pretending. She’s giving you all of her, every piece of her, and there’s no going back.
You’re not just in love with her. You’re both growing, changing, and figuring out just what it means to be together, and you know one thing for sure: No matter what comes next, you’re not going anywhere.
And neither is she.
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tojisun · 1 year ago
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the first time that biker!simon suggested that he drives you around on his bike, you were terrified to the point of declining his offer.
“i can’t,” you mumbled, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater, your lips downturned in genuine disappointment. “‘m sorry.”
you couldn’t meet his eyes, nervous that perhaps you’ve made him upset, but simon just took your hands on his – your small palms fitting snuggly against his gloved ones – and squeezed gently.
“you don’t have to apologize for anything, sweetheart,” simon replied, pulling you close until you were forced to tilt your head up to finally meet his gaze. you rove your eyes over his features, taking in the dimple of his cheeks as he gave you a smile, all boyish and breathtaking.
“don’t worry about it, yeah?” he asked before wrapping you in an embrace after seeing your hesitant nod.
he’s right, you know that. you shouldn’t have worried about it at all, but simon had always loved his bike. had always loved the thrill of the ride; the way the wind whipped against his skin or how the sounds of the road are intensified even with his helmet. you knew it was an irreplaceable experience so of course you truly couldn’t let go of his request.
it sat there on your mind every time he picked you up in his car, his harley tucked in the garage for the day. it curled around the crevices of your heart whenever simon kissed your temple before going out for a night ride with the boys.
“take care, okay?” you would say.
“always,” he would reply, kissing you on the lips again as though sealing his promise before pulling his helmet on and hopping onto his bike. he’d kiss the edges of his gloved knuckles where your initials lay then drive off.
it sat there in the pit of your stomach until one friday afternoon, you tugged onto his sleeve and whispered, “can i hitch a ride?”
the smile on simon’s lips was blinding and you couldn’t help the swoop of giddiness that filled you up when he snatched you from you stood, lifting you up before twirling you around the room.
“you sure you want this?” he asks now, blinking down at you as you fiddle with the zippers of your leather jacket. you look at simon, watching as he twirls your helmet in his hands, and even through his balaclava you can see how his face is pinched in doubt.
(you still can’t believe how simon had stowed away your very own helmet, murmuring how he got it as a valentines gift but decided to hide it when he saw just how hesitant you were when he made the offer.
“i was scared that if you saw i got you y’r own helmet, you would’ve felt pressured to agree to ride with me,” simon whispered, rubbing a thumb at the visor before shooting you a small smile. “stop pouting, love. i know you well, after all.”)
“never surer,” you say with a giggle before showing yourself off to him.
simon hums appreciatively, beautiful eyes narrowing in muted desire. “should see you in leather more, sweet girl. look how beautiful you are.”
you playfully swat at his arm in your embarrassment before standing still when simon lifts the helmet in his hands with a quiet beckoning. you let him fit it on you, your hair gathered in one of his hands and the other gently sliding the helmet on your head. all throughout, you watch the way his eyes crinkle in delight, his touch so reverent, and it makes you choke on the intensity of your love for this beautiful man.
he taps at the top of your visor when he is done, then he is stepping away to prep himself for the ride.
“c’mere, sweetheart,” he says when he is done. “y’got nothin’ to worry about, not w’me here.”
his words burn you, filling you up with encompassing warmth that tickles your cheeks and dips into your neck. you giggle as you shake off the last of your nerves before stepping close, hovering beside his harley, waiting for his instructions.
it wasn’t long or complicated by any chance, but you can see simon’s cautiousness shining through and that eases up your own worries.
there are things for you to remember, he says, things that would ensure your safety and his. and you take him seriously, nodding when he points at his bike and tells you where to prop your feet up, where to sit, where to hold. then, he holds your hands and says that you call all the shots; that if you want to stop, to squeeze his shoulder three times and he’s pulling over.
“this is all about you havin’ fun so don’t push y’rself, alright baby?” simon murmurs, ending his tirade.
then, he takes you for that promised ride.
you two planned to go to the park, just somewhere that’s far enough from your place but still within the expansive stretch of the city road’s smooth asphalt. he asked if you would’ve preferred the beach, but that was a two hour ride and you truly couldn’t handle anything that long. when you told him so, he laughed and kissed the top of your head and said, “then i’ve got the perfect place for you.”
the purr of the machine between your legs is unusual, if not a little bit weird. your grip on simon’s waist must be painful but you don’t have it in you to loosen up, especially not when the speed kicks up to match the traffic. you bite down a squeal when he makes a turn towards the highway, your stomach flipping when you physically feel the bike leaning to your side, almost like it’d fall anytime soon.
of course it doesn’t because simon’s a damn good driver but the adrenaline is coursing through you in waves, surprisingly dousing the fires of your anxiety and replacing it instead with a pooling elation because this feels so fucking good.
you don’t even realize that your hands have loosened their hold onto simon, gripping just enough not to fall. you lift your head from where it’s pressed on his back, tilting just enough to see past his bulk and to take in the dizzying colours of the trickling dawn. the wind is cool even with your jacket, and even though your helmet and visor is obscuring your nose, you take a deep inhale.
fuck. you might just get addicted to this.
the next time that simon swerves to exit the highway, you no longer bite down your squeal, letting it instead rumble from your throat and into the air. simon’s shoulders shake and you realize that he’s laughing, high from your reaction. you couldn’t help it but giggles flutter from your lips, full of the thrill of this experience.
the park comes to view soon and you pout, wanting to keep the drive going. but simon pulls over, parks, and only when the engine stops do you feel the numbness spreading through your legs.
“you doin’ okay over there, sweetheart?” simon asks, remaining seated, unable to stand with you still holding onto him.
“mhmm!” you reply. “i can’t stand up though.”
he barks out a laugh. “oh yeah. that might take a while.” he reaches behind him to rub at the sides of your thighs, massaging whatever he can reach.
you hum, rubbing your hand on his abdomen. “s’fine. ‘m not rushing.” you nuzzle your helmet on his back, falling into silence as you feel yourself unravel from the short experience. you breathe in deeply, the air fogging your visor, and say, “i loved that, si. thank you so much.”
simon’s hold on your thighs gain strength, squeezing gently. “of course, sweetheart.” you hear the happiness in his voice, breathless from his own rush of dopamine. “thank you for trusting me.”
“always, baby,” you reply, squeezing him again, muffling your giggles when you heard his surprised wheeze at the action. “i’ll always trust you.”
(ext.01) (ext.03) // mlist!
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sparklingblu · 6 months ago
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Eroverse
Pt.5 - Eclipse
ft. Chaewon
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The nightmares won't stop.
Ever since your return from the underworld, you always find yourself back in the gloomy land of the death in your sleep. The unnerving faces of the skeletal warriors haunt your dreams and sometimes even the three headed beast. The drawbacks of being chosen by the Mark of Asmodeus are just as powerful as its upsides.
These horrible dreams are just one of your numerous problems and it's not even the worst one. There's the fact that you have become the underworld's most wanted and you don't want to think about what will happen if Hades found out you have banged his wife and stolen his helmet. In a way, she's the one who started it all but you doubt you can reason with an angry god. You might have just booked a guaranteed spot in the fields of punishment. Or even somewhere worse. Dying is the last thing on your mind right now and that's speaking from experience.
Having the mark seems like a blessing at first but you are starting to feel the consequences of bearing such power. Sure, it helps you screw angels and godesses but on the other hand, those are all the glamours to hide one single truth. You are just a servant of Eros. Maybe not like the cherubims but you have to carry out his so called quests and that blonde brat doesn't even explain the reasons behind all this. A god stealing another's god possesion doesn't really seem like a good prank. Or maybe Eros thinks it is.
After going through the quest and bearly coming back alive, you seriously start to reconsider the choice you have made. Eros have given you the life any mortal would wish for - one where you no longer need to worry about surviving everday and making ends meets. You don't even need to jerk yourself off anymore if you get horny. You can just call Lisa to do your bidding. Now, they don't really seem like a fair compensation for the job you have to do. You might sound like an ungrateful bastard but after dying, resurrecting and losing sleep for a week straight, anyone would start to get agitated. The feathery bed isn't much help and neither are Lisa's blowjobs. You even start to get tired of waking up to your dick shoved in the angel's throat and that's a lot coming from a pervert like you.
As you wake up in cold sweat from the usual torment of your dreams one afternoon, you decide you have suffered enough and set out to find a way; anyway to fix your problem. You would have asked Eros for help if he has not been missing for over a week since you return from the quest. (Fuck you, Eros) None of his angels have any idea where he is. Not even Kazuha. The only contact you have had so far is that message about 'taking the virginity of a goddess'. Frankly, you are not in the mood to use your lightsaber dick again. The helm of darkness you have stolen is nowhere to be found either. Your best guess is that Eros took it with him.
As if to mock your suffering, a storm have been raging outside forever. The building might shift from one place to another but the weather doesn't seem to be getting better anytime soon. The rhythm of raindrops splattering the glass along with the roar of thunder make an ugly backdrop as you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up.
Looking at the mirror, you find yourself looking like a ghoul - sunken eyes and ghostly pale. The insomnia have taken quite a toll and you wouldn't be surprised if your heart just stop beating at some point. Even the mark can't save you from that.
You let the cold tap water wash away the drowsiness though you know it will eventually return at some point. Still, it's better than nothing. You desperately need some kind of escape. Something to stop you from being a dead man walking. The jacuzzi might help except the fact that you are too tired to set everything up. The television is just as useless, playing rom-coms or lovesick songs in every channel. (Fuck you, Eros)
There's your phone too, which might have just become the most useless gadget after Eros have restored it. Apart from the lovey dovey wallpapers that change without your consent, the connection is awful here. A literal god owns this place and he can't even afford a decent wifi. Totally ironic. Maybe Eros can live off watching Titanic everyday but he can't seriously expect others to have the same horrible taste as him. (Fuck you, Eros)
With the lack of entertainment, you are left with the only choice to wander around the building. So far, you have discovered a corridor in the hall that leads to a sauna and another to an art gallery full of paintings by different renowned artists. There's even the Mona Lisa which looks too real for a replica. You wonder how Eros manages to get his hands on that one. However, all the doors that line the wall apart from your room's are locked tight and they are all diffetent designs and colours. There's even a vault door. The strangest thing, however, is the fact that even though the building easily looks more than ten storey tall, you can't find a way to go to the other floors. There are no stairs nor elevator. When you asked Kazuha about it, she simply shrugs.
Speaking of Kazuha, you have found a couple other angels apart from her and Lisa. Obviosuly they are all in the forms of idols from different gens. You even saw a few first gen ones. Most of them tend to stay away from you like some sort of infectious disease and you are ok with that. You have had your fair share of experience with their kind who wants you dead and you are not ready to relive the experience. So far, Kazuha is the only one you can communicate with and for Lisa, she uses her mouth in other tasks.
After freshening up, you put on one of those designer shirts and khakis in your wardrobe and exit the room. There's no need to lock the door because there isn't even a doorknob. It swing opens when you get near. Just another thing that doesn't make any sense around here. The marble statue of Eros in the hall with that smug grin on his face gets you even more riled up. You already have enough reason to hate the god and adding another to the list doesn't exactly help.
You turn the narrow corridor into the main room, where you have first landed on your arrival. The room is eerily quiet — the silence only penetrated by the ocassional crackling of thunder. All the lights have been turned off —the flashes of lightning momentarily illuminating the room, derived of its usual cheerful atomosphere now replaced by a dreaful one. The whole thing reminds you of the gloom of the underworld and the thought makes your stomach churns.
Near the glass wall, you spot a dark figure with its back turned, peering over the landscape of ancient Pompeii with the volcano that brought the city's demise looming in the distance. Turns out the building can teleport to lost civilizations too. Arcs of electricity flare through the dark sky and the brief glow reveals the figure as Kazuha.
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In her white sport tops that display her figure perfectly and the raven hair flowing over her back, she really does look like an angel. In normal circumstances, you would have gotten hard seeing her tight ass in those jeans but currently, your hazy mind won't allow you the pleasure.
"You are awake" Kazuha says without turning her back, the sudden intrusion catching you off guard.
"I doubt you can call me that" you reply, pouring yourself a glass of water from the jar on the kitchen counter. Hopefully, it isn't sweet like the rest of Eros's snacks here.
"Still having nightmares?" Kazuhas asks, though her tone lacks the sympathy.
"They won't stop since my return from the underworld" you admit. "I just wanna die"
"Trust me, there are worst things waiting for you after death. You won't really be the most welcomed soul in the underworld"
"I guess so" You take a sip from the glass. Thankfully, the water tastes normal.
"What you have done have serious consequences" Kazuha turns around, arms folded. In the dim light, her expression is unreadable. "You have stolen the power symbol of a god. That's like putting pineapples in a pizza. You have insulted him"
Kazuha's serious tone makes you hold back the protest about your opinion on pineapple pizza. You don't want to get smitten. "Hey, it's not my fault.That was all Eros's idea"
"It might be his idea but you are still the one who did the deed. You will be pointed out as the culprit regardless if you intend it or not"
"Wonderful" you sneer. "I'm starting to hate this 'apostle' job even more. It should have been called 'errand boy' "
"Think positive. Not many people gets to fuck the queen of the underworld"
If Kazuha is trying to comfort you, it's not helping. "Sure because it turns out great. I shouldn't have taken this job in the first place. Congrats! You have the mark of Asmodeus! Now you can go around banging gods and stealing things for me!"
Kazuha doesn't flinch at your sarcastic remark. If it's possible, the darkness of the room looks thicker around her. "It's too late to back out now. And it's still your first real quest. Eros still have many plans for you"
You snicker. "Let me guess. More quests that involves burgling? Won't be surprised if I have to steal the holy grail next. Anyway, where's Eros?"
"No idea" Kazuha replies, furrowing her brows. "He said he's out to plan the next part of your quest but I haven't got any contact from him"
"Would be great if he never comes back"
"Watch your words" Kazuha scowls and thunder roars, lighting up the sky. "The gods are angry. They are searching for you in every corner of the earth. You would be dead already if you are in any other place"
"Should I be honoured?" Yet another saracstic remark. At this point, you don't even care anymore.
"Are you kidding me? We are in serious trouble right now. Gosh, that idiot Eros. If he gets caught somehow......" Kazuha drifts off and the fear in her voice gives birth to a strange sense of distress within you. If an angle is panicking, you are in even more trouble then you initially thought and even that's a shit ton of trouble already.
"Hold on. Are you actually worried about Eros right now? That dick?" It's no way to address your boss but it's not like he's around. On one hand, perhaps he is. Afterall, he's a god. He might have super hearing or something. You push the thought aside. No use cramming your brain with one more dreadful thought.
"You don't get it" Kazuha exhales, her stoic face softening just a notch lower. "Sure, he's not exactly the boss of the year but it's not like I have a choice. Being an angel is not all rainbows and sunshines like you mortals think. Especially not when you have to serve a god who's always finding new ways to brew up trouble. If the gods find out Eros is behind all this.... ." Kazuha pauses, conisdering her choice of words. "Let's just say it will have dire consequences on me too"
"What do you want me to do then?" You ask, being rational for once.
"Obviously try not to get you killed. Without you Eros's big plan will go up in smoke-" Kazuha quickly stops, realizing she has slipped her tongue but it's too late.
"What plan?" You ask. You are already sick and tired of this mysterious game Eros's playing. If you are gonna be a part of it, at least you need to know your role in it clearly.
"Look, it doesn't matter. What's important is that you stay alive and complete your quests with the help of your mark. Everything will be revealed at the right time"
"So what? Am I just some kind of-" Your complaint is cut short as the whole building shakes as if an earthquake has come out of nowhere. You would have fallen face first if you haven't hold onto the kitchen counter. Kazuha isn't so lucky. The angel is thrown off balance and land with her back onto the hard marble floor. Seeing the wince on her face, it seems like angels are no different from humans when it comes to tolerating pain.
"Fuck" Kazuha curses as she gets up, rubbing her back. "They are here"
Without a doubt, you know 'They' could be nothing but trouble. Anything that brought an earthquake along with their entrance couldn't be anything pleasant. But you ask the question anyway. "They?"
Kazuha must have been thinking the same thing because her expression shifts between uncertainty and panic, finally settling on fear. "The Hunters. They-" The building shakes again and this time, the power cuts off. Every single source of light dies out, leaving you surrounded by darkness in every corner. Strangely, the experience reminds you off the darkness that comes before you pass out when you use the 'Ero' app. You can't decide whether it is a good thing you are not losing your consciousness this time.
"Stay still" You hear Kazuha's voice from somewhere in front of you. It's hard to say where exactly because even the flashes of lightning can't seem to penetrate the murk. Sensing Kazuha's the best chance in whatever is happening, you obey without questioning.
"Don't go anywhere. I'll be back" This time the voice comes from behind, sounding more and more distant as Kazuha leaves the room. You are left alone in the dark room with nothing to do but stare at the skyline of Pompei beyond the glass wall. Your terror is nothing compared to what those citizen might have felt when they saw lava raining down on their city. Still, you are barely containing the urge to run after Kazuha.
A minute passes, then two, then a couple more. The silence is deafening, only interrupted by the splatter of raindrops and the ocassional claps of thunder. As you start wondering what's taking Kazuha so long, the building trembles once again and you, deep in thought, isn't able to react fast enough this time and go sprawling across the floor. Luckily, you land on your knees and the fall isn't too painful though it leaves your legs feeling like jelly.
Somewhere far away, you hear something explode followed by the clashing sound of metal against metal. As you lift yourself off the floor, battle cries flood into the room as if a battle is taking place right at this moment. The corridor is light up by a momentary burst of white light and what you see in that split second confirm your thoughts.
Kazuha has her gladius pressed against the blade of a female dressed in black, the flickers of light dancing around them whenever their weapons clash. It's hard to say who's winning because all your eyes can catch are bits and pieces of the duel. But it doesn't seem to be the only one because farther behind, you can catch glimpes of numerous colourful gleams that vanish as quick as they disappear. If you are doubting before, you know now. The place is under attack.
And what do the chosen one with the mark of Asmodeus do? Stand and watch, of course. It's not like you can just activate the mark anytime. And even if it does activate, you doubt you can fuck your way out of this. At this instant, you really wish the mark provides you with some sort of power apart from being a universal impregnator.
The gleams from the clashes scattered around the building becomes more frequent. From time to time, you would see white humanoid shapes of light combusts with a sound like a thousand firrworks exploding at once. Light means angels and if they are blowing up, it's deifinitely not good news.
Kazuha's still locked in clash with the warrior dressed in black. Their duel is moving dangerously close to where you are standing and you back off until you are pressed against the glass wall. Kazuha's opponent doesn't give her any time to think, bringing down strikes after strikes which Kazuha's barely managing to block with her own weapon. With the glow that Kazuha's gladius continuously cast, you finally manage to make out the features of the warrior. She looks no older than 25 with bob hair that sways with each of her fluid movements. After seeing the cheetah like facial features with another glow, you have no doubt. It's Chaewon, the leader of Le Sserafim, trying to kill her own member. You know both of them are obviously not the real idols but still, it's pretty fucked up.
You have no time to make the whole thing make sense because Kazuha's getting closer and closer to the glass wall with every second. Chaewon doesn't waver, each strike of her sword precise and deadly. On the other hand, Kazuha's momvements are growing sluggish. Any moment now, she's gonna be impaled by Chaewon's sword.
Sensing the impending doom, you do the stupidest thing possible. "Hey" you call and Chaewon, oblivious of your presence in the dark, turns her head just for a split second. Kazuha seizes the opportunity, kneeling Chaewon in the stomach, the force throwing her off-balance and down to the floor. Kazuha raises her gladius for the finishing strike until-
"Enough!" A woman's voice booms and the whole building flood with light. Not from the overhead lighting though. It is as if the place has been enveloped in a silvery cocoon of light; warm and pale.
Before you can process what's happening, a sharp cold edge press onto your throat. Chaewon gives you a wistful smile, moving her blade father up your chin. Your eyes dart to her feet, where Kazuha lays sprawled out. As she begins to get up, Chaewon points the gladius in her other hand at Kazuha. In this millisecond, she has managed to tackle Kazuha and seizes her weapon. How she did it, you have no idea. "Follow me" she orders. "Both of you"
Left with no choice, you oblige, walking along the narrow corridor into the circular hall with Kazuha as Chaewon follows closely behind. You wonder why Kazuha can't just snap her fingers and teleport both of you out of here. Afterall, she's a fucking angel. But seeing her worn out face and her slumped shoulder, you doubt she can even summons a spark.
The whole hall smells like someone have forgortten to turn off the stove. Multiple bodies of unconscious idols aka angels, scatter the floor. Inky scorch marks imrpinted on the floor where they lay. You cough, trying to eject the smoky smell that enters your lungs. The statue of Eros in the center has been sliced in half so it now looks more like a mixture of amputated legs and a wing. This might just be the only benefit this whole destruction brings. To you, at least.
The strangest sight, however, are the warriors. There's at least 10 of them, postioned around the disfigured statue of Eros, swords strapped to their backs. All of them wear the same outfit as Chaewon; black crop tops and jeans. Then you realize it's not just their clothes that match. Everything about them does. In other words, all of them are Chaewon. Each one a perfect replica of the other.
There's one that stands out though. She's also Chaewon but in a different outfit; an emerald green mesh top and a leather skirt. A chain necklace dangles over the opening at the upper part of her top. She doesn't have any weapon but that doesn't make her any less intimidating. You can feel the pure energy radiating off her, making your skin tingle. Instantly, you realizes she's the one who has stopped the battle with the slivery glow. Beside her kneels none other than your boss, Eros, his toga ragged and dirty. His once beautiful face is now full of cuts and his blonde hair a tangled mess. A golden chain bind his hands to his back. Nevertheless, the god gives you a smug grin as soon as he spots you like this is a very normal occurence.
"My Lady" The Chaewon holding you hostage walks forward and kneel before the different Chaewon. "I have brought him"
The green top Chaewon moves forward, her eyes fixed on your exhausted form. "So, you are the infamous one" she muses. Much to your surprise her voice comes out deep and cold, different from the warrior Chaewon. "You give us quite a lot of troubles upstairs, you know. Not gonna lie, I was kinda impressed. Coming back from the death is one thing but raping a goddess and stealing a possession of a god? That's pretty badass"
You don't know if she's praising you or being saracsstic. It's hard to tell with that stoic expression on her face.
"Hey, don't give him all the credits! I did most of the work" Eros calls from behind. This guy is still cracking jokes in a life or death situation. You wish you have that kind of courage.
Chaewon gives him a glance and the corner of her lips nearly curves into a smile but she quickly sheathes it. "Sure, you do. If you haven't sneaked up to my dimension with that little helmet of yours, it would have taken me longer to find Michael here. Thank you"
"You are welcome" Eros replies, his face showing no sign of fear or anger. "Maybe you can get me out of these chains, if you are actually thankful"
Chaewon ignores him and continues. "It would be such a shame to get rid of someone so powerful. But the mark brings nothing but trouble. This time is no different from the last"
"What do you mean?" You ask, confused.
"You are not the first one to possess the mark. The one before you..." she trails off. "Nevermind. It's not like you need to know. You are going to die anyway"
Your tongue loses the ability to speak. Normally, you would have begged or try to strike a deal. But this time it's different. Chaewon isn't like all those otherworldly beings you have met before. She shows no signs of hostility yet you know she will stay true to her words. A moment of silence passes before you gather your thoughts again and ask.
"Who are you?" The first question that comes to your mind. You are not even sure if you have the permission to ask someone as powerful as her. Nevertheless, curiousity killed the cat.
"Artemis" Kazuha interrupts before Chaewon can answer your question. "Goddess of the hunt"
"And the moon" Chaewon adds. "Very good, dear. You did your homework"
Not the first goddess you have met but you feel like this is the first one who lives up to her status. The last one you have met is pretty powerless apart from being able to summon some plants. Artemis is a stark contrast compared to Persephone.
"And them?" You ask, gesturing at all the other Chaewons in the hall.
"They are my hunters" Kazuha explained . "My soldiers and my sisters"
If she means sisters literally, you absolutely believe it because they look no different from each other.
"You speak too highly of your group of virgins" Eros voice appears once again. Chaewon shoots him a sharp glare and you realize Eros have struck a nerve there.
"Don't you dare speak ill of our pure maidenhood" The fury in Chaewon's voice makes you take a step back. If she starts doing whatever a goddess do when she gets mad, you don't want to be in the line of fire.
"Oh, come on. Where's the fun in living for milleniums and not getting laid even once? I get you hate men and all but you don't need to go this far" Eros pushes on and Chaewon's brows creases into an icy stare.
"We are hundred percent better than you filthy men" Chaewon snaps. "All of you are no different from pests compared to us. Fragile and weak. You, a minor god, have no right to question my choice"
What Chaewon's saying is starting to sound more and more like a feminism lecture. And if she's a goddess, that means she might be the oldest feminist in existence. An alpha feminist? The idea wrecks your brain cells.
"Oh, really? Hmmm...let's see. The first person to walk on the moon is a man. So is the one who invented electricity. Not to mention every single president of the United States are men. What else?"
For the first time, Eros words doesn't have any of his usual mischief. Hearing how he retaliates Chaewon (or Artemis, whatever) insults factually, you feel a tinge of admiration for the guy. Maybe even a bit of respect.
Chaewon's face turns a deadly hue of red, clearly not expecting a sensible retort from Eros. "I should have finished you long ago. You talk too much for your own good" Chaewon extends her arm and out of thin air, a faint silvery glow starts to manifest, soon taking the form of a recurve bow; curved out of what you guess is a mixture of bronze and gold. She holds the grip tight and pulls the string, summoning a glowing arrow of light along the path.
Chaewon has resort to violence, not being able to make a comeback from Eros's argument. She aims the luminous tip of the arrow right at Ero's chest, ready to strike down at any moment. Anyone would be terrified out of their wits if they were at arrowpoint but apparently, it's not the case for Eros, who's still smiling like a madman.
"Aren't gods like...immortal or something?" You whisper to Kazuha.
"They are" Kazuha replies. "That is....until someone take them down with the sufficient force"
"Must suck"
You are beginning to see the true nature of those otherworldly beings more clearly. Angels and gods; the figures of power are just as fragile as any mortal.
"Seriously, Artemis? You bring a weapon to a debate? Come on" Eros whines and Chaewon pulls the bowstring so taut it threatens to snap in half.
"Spare me your nonesense, Eros. Your job here is done. You are no longer needed" With those final words, Chaewon prepares to strike Eros down until-
"Woah woah woah. Hold on" Eros falters, his tone no longer mocking though it still has a mischevious edge. "How about we make a bet?"
Chaewon scoffs. "You can stall all you want Eros. I have all the time in the world"
"Look, we both have our opinions and views. Let's see who can prove their point"
If Eros is blabbering more gibberish to delay the inevitable, it works because Chaewon lowers ber bow. "Go on"
"Let Michael participate in your tribunal games" Eros says. "And if he can defeat your hunters, you have to let us go"
Chaewon is speechless for a moment then breaks into laughter. Even some of her hunters join in. "Eros, I know you are an idiot but this is beyond madness"
Eros ignores the insult. "Michael is a male so if he can defeat your hunters, that will prove my point. If he's defeated, then I will admit you are right"
You feel like a toddler in the middle of adult talk. As usual, you have absolutely no idea what they are talking about. They might as well be speaking in a foreign tongue.
"Hold up. I have no idea-"
"Think again Eros" Your interruption is reinterrupted by Chaewon. "I can give Michael a painless death here. If he's in the games, well, not so much"
"Scared?"Eros questions, tilting his head.
An expression somewhere between annoyance and amusement flashes across Chaewon's face. "Your little friend Michael is the one who should be scared. You are sending him to a place of no return"
With each word of the conversation, your panic level rises. Whatever place they are talking about, you are certain it's not an amusement park.
"Why don't we just get to the point? Yes or No?"
"Alright, if you are that eager let's do it" Chaewon instantly shoots back.
"I hope you keep your words, Artemis"
"Speak for yourself"
"Oh, I'm a man of my words" Eros says it like something so obvious.
Chaewon raises her arm. "Alright, I will-"
"Wait!" Eros calls. "There's one condition"
"What is it again?" Chaewon glares, the frustration evident in her tone.
"Michael will be up against ten of your hunters and you, a goddess. Don't you think it's a bit unfair?"
"It has always been the way" Chaewon answers. "And it will always be"
"But Michael isn't like the rest of your tributes right? He's not a rapist nor a cheater" Eros complains.
"Yeah, like he didn't rape a fucking goddess"
You hear Chaewon swears for the first time and for a moment, you almost want to chuckle. The sound of a curse on the ever well mannered goddess's tongue comes out so odd.
"Yeah but it's not completely his fault" Eros inists. "And don't you have beef with Persephone or something?"
Chaewon thinks for a moment. "It's not like I like that snobby underground goddess anyway. Fine, Michael can choose a partner. If there's a partner for him to choose that is, and obviously not you, Eros"
You are surprised at how quickly Chaewon changes her mind. It's like Eros knows just the right keys to turn to bend people's well. Maybe it's a part of being a love god.
"Fine by me" Eros replies. "Since you murdered all my angels except one, Kazuha, you accompany Michael in the games"
Is that fear you see in Kazuha's eyes? You can't be sure but there's no denying what's up ahead can't be anything pleasant.
"What's happening?" You ask Kazuha but she just purses her lips as if muffling a scream. Not a good sign at all.
"Don't worry, Michael. Kazuha will explain it to you once you are in the games. For now, goodbye. Don't die"
With that last message, Eros turns his eyes down to the floor.
"Alright" Chaewon turns towards you. "Let's begin"
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
After a week, you finally get to be in some place other than the shifting alive penthhouse of Eros.
With a snap of her finger, Chaewon blurs the surroundings and when your eyes come back into focus, you find yourself in a different place.
The first thing, you notice is the silence. So silent that it's deafening. It doesn't sit quite right with the forest that looms all around you. Dark wouldn't be the right word to describe the place despite the fact that not a spot of sunlight penetrates the violet leaves of pine-like trees that rises to the sky. The entangled branches reminds you of old withered hands. It doesn't make the place any less creepy.
A dim glow like the one back in Eros's place envelopes the whole place, casting faint shadows here and there. The air is cool but not pleasantly so. It's the kind of cool that gives you the chills before something disastrous happens. The air smells like a mixture of freshly baked cookies and toast. Compensation for the whole haunted atmosphere of this place, perhaps. You look down and find yourself knees deep in the tall grass that covers every single inch of ground. Thankfully, you didn't choose to wear shorts.
"Over here" Kazuha voice snaps you out of your thoughts. She stands, propped by a tree nearby. Her eyes dart around as if a predator will emerge at any moment and that can possibly be the case. You make your way towards her, which is not really easy with all the grass brushing against your legs.
"Alright. I'm sure this isn't where Artemis send people for vacation. Can I get some explanation now?" You demands. If you are going to be a part of whatever game Eros made you play, you are gonna need answers.
Kazuha looks around like she's checking for anyone eavesdropping. "We don't have much time so listen carefully" she begins. "As you already know, Artemis is a maiden goddess which means she vows never to give up her virginity"
You remember Eros's message about taking the virginity of a goddess. Did he mean Artemis?
"So are her hunters. They vow their absolute loyalty to Artemis and to preserve their maidenhood. In return, they gain eternal youth and immortality"
"Does being turned into Chaewon comes with the package?"
"I don't know. Ask them next time" Kazuha shrugs off your question. "In the old days, when a man commits a crime against a woman; say a rapist or a cheater, Artemis makes them play her tribunal games"
"Is that like the ancient vesion of hunger games?"
You can swear Kazuha almost smiles. "In a way, yes. She takes them into her 'verse' and-"
"Hold on. Verse?" You ask.
"Dimensions created by the gods. Remember the places you get taken by the 'Ero' app? They are the verses of Eros. Or Eroverses, like he calls them. This place, is a verse of Artemis"
"Ok, get it"
Seriously, Eros should take notes from Artemis how to actually create a verse that's not a tiny room or a boxing ring with a deadly angel.
"So, here's how the tribunal games work" Kazuha continues. "Artemis takes her chosen prey into her verse and her and her hunters hunt down the unlucky guy"
"Great, how do we beat it?"
"That's the problem. We don't. The game ends when the guy dies"
"Wonderful" you remark in saracsm. "So we just wait till they kill me?"
"Don't be rudiculous. We need to keep moving. At least until we find out what to do. Afterall, you are the chosen one"
Right. Chosen one, you think. The chosen one with a magic dick that's pretty useless most of the time.
"Aren't you an angel? Can't you just get us out like you did when Yeji tries to kill me?"
"I can't" Kazuha answers. "This verse has its own rules set by Artemis. Apparently, they don't favour angels. And even if I can get you out of here, I won't. Because then Artemis will kill us all"
"Well...let's take a walk" You stride ahead into the forest, trying to enjoy nature for perhaps, the last time ever.
"Wait up" Kazuha calls, running after you. You stop to turn around.
"This whole place is full of traps. One wrong step and you are doomed. After me" Kazuha walks past, each of her steps slow and calculated. You follow her pattern as you wander deeper into this deadly playground of Artemis.
After a few minutes, you notice the place isn't completely silent like you thought before. The faintest rustle of grass would emerge evert few seconds. Earlier, you haven't noticed it but now with the air eerie with the threat of making one wrong move, it's as clear as ever.
"What's that sound?" you whisper to Kazuha.
"Shhh" She brings her index to her lips, gesturing you to shut up. "Just keep moving"
A few more minutes go on. There still isn't a change in scenery. The place stays cold and haunted with the gloom the pines cast. The silvery light a reminder of Artemis's absolute power.
Despite the cool of the place, you start sweating. Maybe it's the fear. The fear of not knowing what to fear. You still haven't run into anything dangerous or lethal till now and you feel like your luck is going to run out anytime.
After a few more minutes, your whole body is drenched with sweat. Your feet feels like they are on fire. "Can we stop for a while? It's getting.....tedious" you pant. Kazuha gives you a look that means seriously?
"Fine, we can rest. But just a few minutes" Kazuha plops down at the base of a tree, her eyes still scanning the surroundings. Even now, she's still as alert as ever.
You follow suit, taking your place beside her. You blow out a puff of hot air. "Why aren't they grouping up on us yet?" you ask.
"The hunters? Oh, Artemis likes to take her time. Waits for her victims to feel safe enough. She strikes when they least expect it. That's why I'm keeping my eyes and ears open" Kazuha answers and you can't help but notice the fatigue in her voice. She's tired too. She just hides it better.
"So does Artemis hate men in general or is there a specific reason?"
"No idea" Kazuha's eyes land on you. You know it's not the time but you can't help but admire her gorgeous facial features. And her exposed tummy.... "All I know is she rejoices in proving herself better than your kind in quite.....brutal ways"
"Forget I ask" Then you suddenly remember what Artemis have said. "Artemis said I'm not the first one to possess the mark. Is it true?"
A solemn expression loom over Kazuha's face. Her fingers toy with the grass covering the ground. "It's better if you don't know. Trust me"
Just then a cold breeze brush your face. The feeling is pleasant, almost soothing enough to make you forget about the danger you are in. Not a second apart, a sound similar to a boiling kettle emerges.
"Duck!" Kazuha yells.
A silvery arrow cuts through the air with alarming speed and if you were just a nano second late, it wouldn't be the tree's trunk the lethal tip impales in.
"Kazuha, you are an angel" you praises.
"Run!" Before you know it, Kazuha is sprinting ahead and you have to use every ounce of strength left to match her speed. It doesn't help that more arrows are heading your way and it's getting harder and harder to avoid them.
Your speed wavers and another flock of arrows rain down on top of you. You embraces yourself for the pain but with a shimmer, all of them go up in flames. No doubt the work of Kazuha.
"Kazuha, you are an..."
"Shut the fuck up" Kazuha catches an arrow in mid air and snaps it in half. "Keep moving!"
You don't stop running. Neither do the arrows which keeps chasing you down. One grazes your shoulder and you stumbles from the stinging pain. Nevertheless,Kazuha grabs you from the arms and keep you moving.
Your lungs are on fire. Your legs are on the verge of giving out. The will to survive is the only thing that keeps you going and even that's starting to fade. Surprisingly, you find yourself wishing for the mark of Asmodeus to emerge. Not for sexual purpose but rather for protection.
Suddenly, Kazuha halts and you run straight into her back, sending you sprawling on the grass.
"Why do you-"
Your question is cut short when you realize why Kazuha has stopped. Right in front of her, standing on a small hill is none other than the goddess Artemis herself.
"At last" she makes her way slowly towards you. "Eros's little pet is cornered"
You get back to your feet and when you turn around, you find out she's right. The hunters have formed a ring around you, their bows drawn.
"So much for Eros's talk about men being superior" Chaewon flicks her wrists and silvery light dance between her fingers. "Such weaklings"
You search Kazuha's face for any sort of reassurance. But there's no hope. She has already told you she's pretty much powerless here. Is this finally the end for the great one?
"Finish the angel first" Chaewon orders. "I will take care of our little Michael here"
The hunters act instantly. All of them draw their blades and charge towards Kazuha. Amidst the chaos, you can't help but wish for the mark to emerge. You are at the brink of death once again, why has it not shown itself?
Kazuha summons a blazing sword of light in an attempt to reflect the rapid strikes of the hunter but even she can't hold out against ten angry feminists. One slash cuts across her arm and another graze her abdomen. Golden blood pours out from the wounds.
Meanwhile, Chaewon is making her way towards you gracefully, taking her time. In her hand, she twirls a double edged sword. Her gaze icy cold, a hint of amusement within them.
"You know, I thought it would be harder" Chaewon muses. "With your mark and all"
Yeah, the mark. The blessing which betrays you in most desperate time.
"Where's your little mark, hmm? Or is it too scared to make its appearance?"
"You are not playing fair" you replies. Nearby, a hunter kneels Kazuha in the ribs and she stumbles.
"Who said anything about playing fair?" Chaewon steps slow as the distance between you narrows. "If you want to blame, blame Eros"
She stops and studies you like a predator capturing its prey last moment. Then with a flick of her fingers, she sends you flying upwards.
Your back meets the trunk of a tree with a loud thud and you land with your face on the cushion of grass. You feel like every single bones in your body have turned to powder. A shar pain creep up your legs and you groan in agony.
"What's wrong chosen one? We are just getting started"
You lift yourself up wearily at Chaewon's challenge. You can't feel your legs but you manage to stand up. A few feet away, Chaewon stands, her hands on her hips. She gives you an exaggerated smile.
"You are not already giving up, are you?"
"You little-"
You are not able to finish your words because once again, Chaewon lifts a finger and an invisible force drags you backward until you crush into another tree.
You stumble, kneels shaking and your face graze the grass. Your mind is a jumble of anger and fear. But it is soon overwhelmed by the pain that leaves your mind blank.
"Get up"
For some reason, Chaewon's voice seems distant. You use the last bit of your strength to lift your face off the ground and your eyes catch a blurry sight of Chaewon and the sword in her hand. Your eyes move further back and your heart twitches painfully.
Kazuha has been overwhelmed by the hunters. Golden blood is pouring out of even more wounds all across her body and her gladius has scattered off away. Her only futile attempts to keep alive are the blasts of light she often summons to drive away her enemies. But it is obvious that shes going to fall victim to their razor sharp blades very soon.
Maybe it's the power of friendship. Maybe you are just scared out of your wits. Neverthless, you feel the all familiar burning sensation that originates from your pelvis and spreads through your whole body. However, this time, lust isn't the only thing that accompany the mark's wake. There's another feeling that you can't quite put a finger on. All you know is that it's ancient and have been buried deep inside you for god knows how long. Now, it's finally making its presence known and you happily welcomes its emergence.
All the pain in your body have been washed away. Every broken bone and raptured vessels heal. You bring yourself back to your feet and crack your neck. Strangely, it gives you a sense of contentment.
"What's this madness...?" Chaewon mutters, her pupils wide like a deer in the headlights.
You look at yourself and mutter the same thing. The warm golden glow that envelopes you is there. A reminder of the invulnerability the mark offers. It's a sight you have grown accustomed to. However, there's an addition to the package this time. Every single vein in your body is glowing and humming with power. You can see the tiny rivers of gold that wound all over you. In this moment, nothing else matters except the fact that you have become one of the most powerful beings in existence. You feel invisible, untouchable. You feel like a.....god.
Chaewon spreads her palms, shooting out silvery tendrils towards your direction but they quickly diminish once they reach a few feets away from you. She tries to summon her bow and launch a volley of arrows but they follow the same fate as her earlier attempt to harm you.
"Don't waste your efforts. We both know it's not gonna work" You muse as you slowly close your distance to Chaewon.
The hunters attacking Chaewon has frozen with shock; all of them staring at the scene unfolding before them. How dangerous are they now if even their mistress is powerless against you?
"What are you staring at? Charge!" Chaewon's order break the hunters out of their trance and all of them charge at you at once, their blades drawn.
A voice inside you orders and you clasp your hands, sending out a radiant wave of red that wash over the hunters. For a moment, everything is still. Then, the hunters start acting in the craziest way possible.
Their faces flush a deep shade of red like those caught comitting a deed they are not supposed to. Their legs start trembling. "Fuck. No. What-" One of them mummur as she tries to stop her legs from quivering like crazy. Another cover her mouth with her hands to muffle a moan. Much to your surprise, a wet stain is growing at the crotch of all their jeans.
Not a moment later, all of the hunters have collaspe onto the ground, desperately pulling off their jeans. Some even rip the fabric apart. Thats when you see your handiwork. All of their pussies are wet and glistening; clenching around nothing as if asking for something to fill them up. Some of them start to dig a finger or two into their wet holes, pumping to compensate for the pleasure that only a cock can bring. The others are still trying to hold on to their dignity but it's clear as day that they are fighting a losing batttle. Without a single movement, a geyser of squirt erupts from a hunter and she lets out the most primordial scream. The less composed ones even start to make out with each other; their bodies pressed together and their fingers digging deep into each other aching cunts.
You feel like you are in the wet dream of a Chaewon stan. Not a single Chaewon but ten are giving you a free webshow. All of their dignity have been thrown out of the window. The only thing that matters now is to satisfy the need their pussies demand. In this moment, those hunters are no different from camgirls.
"You fool! What have you done?" No matter how much she tries to mask it, the panic in Chaewon's voice is crystal clear.
You shrug. "I don't know either but it seems like your hunters are horny"
Her face twitches in anger. "I will kill you" She unfolds her palms, sending out tendrils of blinding light in your direction. You close your eyes to avoid getting blinded and when you reopen them, nothing have changed except the fact that Chaewon stands, dazed.
"What- what the fuck?" Chaewon swears and you almost want to laugh but you gotta assert your dominance.
"Well, I thought you already know. The mark makes me invisible"
"It's not possible. The last time I-"
'The last time'. Once again, you can't help but wonder what she means by that.
"Last time?" You ask for the second time. This time, Chaewon doesn't brush off your question. Instead, she stutters.
"No...no...it can't be. That power. It's impossible.."
"Well, as you can see, it's not"
Wasting no time, you advance on Chaewon slowly, each step calculated and measured. There's no need to rush. It's clear who's the victor here.
It doesn't take long for Chaewon to realize her disadvantage. Wasting no time, she pulls out a dagger from her belt and lunge at you with inhuman speed. That's her mistake.
As soon as she reaches a few feet away, she's thrown off balance like an invisible barrier has stopped her. The mark doing its job very well.
"For someone who knows a lot about the mark, you are pretty stupid" You say as you hover over her limp form that lies on the ground.
"Stay away from me, you filthy animal!" The goddess threatens but both of you know it has no real bite to it.
You hear a loud moan and your eyes dart to where Artemis's hunters are having the craziest orgy. A couple is scissoring, their pussies rubbing against each other in a frantic and almost animalistic way. Their faces distorted like bitches in heat. One Chaewon is eating out the other who lays sprawled on the grass while another take a seat on her face. And one lays propped to the tree, her fingers deep in her pink hole and squirting a fountain with ever pump. It's a sight to behold.
Further back, Kazuha sits under a tree, panting. You feel a pang of worry after seeing all her bloody wounds but at least she will live. And you have another task to focus here.
Chaewon takes your distraction as an opportunity and throws a jab from down below but you quickly grab her waist and pin her hand to the ground.
"I must say, I do admire your persistence"
"Let go of me!"
Her voice is so desperate, so demanding you almost let out a chuckle.
"What is it you say again? Men are filthy? Well, now that filthy man is going to take away your precious virginity"
The reality of your intention dawns on Chaewon and her pupils contract with fear. No more is the triumph, cocky goddess. What lies beneath you is nothing but another immortal who has fallen victim to your power.
"You can't be serious"
"Oh, I am" You touch her top with a single finger and in no time, it burns to ashes, leaving her upper body bare. You can get a clear view of her pink perky nipples that seems to be demanding your mouth on them. But that can wait.
"Stop it!" Chaewon's free hand strikes you again but you repeat your earlier motion and pins it down to the ground. Now, both of her hands are trapped. She spits in your face but you couldn't care less.
"Snappy, are we?" You take one of her now erect nipples into your mouth and bite down with just the slightest force, eliciting a mewl from her.
"I swear I will - mmph" Chaewon's protests are silenced as your teeth sinks once again, this time a bit more harder. Your tongue swipes across the pink bud then around her aerola.
"You little - fuck!" Your mouth makes its way to her other nipple, which is no less stiff than the other. For someone who's being all defiant, her tits are telling a different story. You take your tine tasting every inch of Chaewon's nipple before finally pulling back after a particularly forceful bite.
Chaewon's face no longer have the initial fury. Instead, it has been clouded by a lust filled haze. She pant, beads of sweat trickling down her temple. Her mouth has been parted slightly but her vocal cords betray no sound.
"How is it, hmm? To be used by a man?"
You ask, closing your indexes and thumbs around her nipples before giving them another pinch. Her body jerks upward, legs trembling.
"You....you...have no idea....what you are..."
Her voice is so low it can be mistaken for a breath. Her chest heaves with each word, as if talking has become the hardest task in her life. Her lips part again but before she can mutter more nonsense, you shut her up with your own lips.
"Mmmmph" Chaewon's words get slurred, reduced into nothing but jumbles of muffles and moans when your tongue invades her oral hole. Your tongue explore, tracing every inch of her warm wet hole before it finally found its mate; her very own tongue. Your muscles interwined, greedily lapping up anything Chaewon can offer: the drool, the warmth, the whole squelching wet mess.
Your hands aren't mandatory either. A single touch with your index on her pants and much like her top, it burns away to crisp. As much as this new ability of yours is handy, you really wish it wouldn't be activated all the time. You don't want to end up stripping someone acciidentally.
As soon as her lower body is bare, your fingers snake their way along her inner thighs - tracing the supple path of skin on your way to her core. It doesn't take long for you to find her unprotected pussy despite your lack of vision. The wetness and these smooth folds are unmistakable.
You stop the finger fucking, just to imprint Chaewon's expression in memory before you fuck her up in all the right ways. The goddess is left panting like a bitch, lips parted and drool spilling. Not a trace of pride left in those silvery irises.
Your middle and ring fingers dig into her folds and even before you get their whole lengths in, Chaewon's already moaning like it's your cock which has entered her virgin hole. Perhaps this is a sample of what she will be like when you actually pound her to oblivion; screaming your name, begging and begging until she can't anymore.
It's the perfect revenge.
"For someone who hate cocks, you are already leaking like a faucet"
You mock before pulling your fingers back and ramming them back into her hole, earning another mewl from her.
"Cat got your tongue?"
Another thrust and thsi time, she actually speaks.
"Stop....stop....I..."
"Can't hear you"
And with that, your fingers go back to work, pumping her hole steady and in rhythm. Her pussy really lives up to its reputation of being a forbidden treasure to man. It's apparent in the way its tighteness engulf your fingers in a deadly grip.
The first few thrusts are tedious, her walls blocking the way with their millenial old tighteness. But after a few more pumps, all the protection crumbles and her hole becomes nothing but a playground for your fingers. And perhaps, for the first time, start spilling her womanly fluid.
You add your index, now fucking her with three fingers and it produces the most sinful of gasps and breaths from that shrewd tongue. Her cheeks are red; not a blush but rather an indicator of the heat you are pumping into her with every thrust of your fingers.
You allow your eyes to waver your attention from Chaewon's slut face just a moment and see the strangest scene unfolding. All of Artemis's hunters; all the Chaewons, who are acting like whores just a moment ago has now reached a new level of ecstasty. All of them lay sprawled out on the grass, their moans combining into a orchestra of lewdest sounds. Their legs are spread open and every moment or so, a geyser of squirt would erupt from their dripping pussies.
Wanting to test something, you abruptly stop the finger action on Chaewon. Then everything go still. The hunters stop being the rowdy ones they were just a few moments ago. The panting is still there but no more squirting. You almost burst out laughing.
Just as Artemis has said, they are really 'sisters'. They are 'one'. Not like you are a psychologist but you recognize they have a hive mind, which helps them coordinate their attacks perfectly. But the downside is, it also works when one of them is getting treated like a slut. If their mistress gets fingered, so will they. A brilliant flaw for you to utilize.
Eager to try out this new feature, you waste no time digging your fingers back into Chaewon's soaking cunt, instantly producing groans and moans from her hunters. Meanwhile, their mistress is far gone - pupils dilated and mouth hanging open like a fish on land. Even when your thrusts increase with each second, all the reaction you can get out of her are the momentary jerks and writhes of her legs. You have completely broken this goddess.
Nonetheless, you don't need anymore sign to realize that she's teetering on the edge. Her pulsing walls, the increased quaking of her thighs - all give the approaching end away. It doesn't take long for you to finally give her the release she so desperately seeks. With one last pump of your fingers, you make her crumble.
It seems to never end - the shower of juice erupting from her wet depths. It gets all over your clothes and your hair. But you just stand there, smiling like a madman as you take in the view of another goddess becoming prey to her own pleasure. Just another day for the chosen one.
When her orgasm finally subsides, Chaewon is left a mess - chest heaving and eyes rolled up. Her body is slick with sweat, glistening despite the misty haze of this place. Further back, her hunters has followed the same route. Their bare bodies lay limp on the grass, spent. You admire your handiwork for a moment before you move on to the next step.
If anyone thinks you are finished here, they would be wrong. This is just the prologue to your grand plan of deflowering the goddess. And even if she weren't a virgin, you would have still done the same. Because the mark of Asmodeus is hungry. And the lust it has brewed up in you needs to be satisfied.
And the mark knows it too. Because with a single will, all the clothes on your body shimmer in a blinding light and disappear. And that's when you see it; your cock, which has become the hardest material in the world. All your throbbing veins have become visible, glowing plae gold and enveloped by a faint halo. Not to mention the mark, burning a deep shade of scarlet. This is no longer a male sexual organ. This is the weapon of a god.
Triumphantly, your fingers entangle in the goddess's raven hair, bringing her face close to yours. Is that a slither of resistance you see in her eyes? It doesn't matter. This is your hunting ground and she is the prey.
"Tired already? We are just getting started dear"
Chaewon mutters something that sounds like something between a moan and a huff. It's hard to say with her broken voice.
"Say something bitch"
You spit in her face, a revenge for earlier. Still, the goddess is silent except for incoherent raspy gasps. She just stays there, her pupils dilated like a lifeless doll.
You should be proud of the job you have done. How thoroughly you have ruined Chaewon with your fingers alone. But seeing her this broken ruins your mood. Sure, you are still gonna fuck her. But where's the fun when the only reaction you can get out of deflowering her are bits and pieces of sound. It's a complete turn off.
And then there it comes again. The voice inside you. No. A tug would be more suitable - an urge that manifests so suddenly. Without thinking, you touch Chaewon's forehead with your index finger.
Much to your horror, a line of red starts to burn just below her neck. It wounds into a circle on her skin then trace a straight line across it. After a while, you realize. The mark of Asmodeus is being carved on her skin - the very mark on your plevis.
After the imprinting is complete, the mark flares to life. But unlike yours, it doesn't glow scarlet. Instead, it shines a brilliant blue. Chaewon's eyes open and for a moment, you panick.
Have you acidentally transferred your mark to Chaewon?
"Master"
The words that leave Chaewon's lips leave you confused. It's like the goddess have become a different person. She kneels, looking up at you with eyes full of life. The silver of them replaced by blue.
"How can I serve you?"
That's when you understand what this new mark actually does. It has turned the goddess into a slut by completely altering her will. Just how powerful have you become?
You decided to leave the question for later, focusing on your new servant instead.
"You can start by putting that mouth of yours to good use"
"As you wish, master"
Chaewon's fists close on your cock, starting off with a full fingers handjob. She pumps your pole slowly, admiring all those veins glittering gold. The pace is slow and yet, you find her touch addictive. Maybe this is what a goddess's handjob feels like.
"Master cock is so big....so beautiful..."
With that praise, she brings her face a sucking distance from your cock. Her lips are hovering just above your tip and you can feel her warm breath that tickles your length. If this is foreplay, it's doing its job very well. After a couple more languid stroke and tantalizing breaths, you can't take it any more.
"I think I told you to suck me off"
"Sorry master"
Her soft lips finally closes in around your tip and there isn't any words to describe how heavenly the feeling is. The way those pink things drag along your tip only to pull it back in - it's the emboidment of ecstasy. You could have just let her focus solely on your tip and blow a load into her mouth. That's how good it is.
But Chaewon have different plans. Her mouth suddenly takes more than half of your length in one swift bob. The action causes her hair to fall in strands around her face but she looks even more beautiful that way. Messy face, all her assests exposed and mouth stuffed by your pole. This is your favorite form of art.
"Fuck, Chaewon. Don't stop"
A moan reasonates around your cock - the vibration sending a shiver down your spine. You don't know if it was a muffled sound of graitude or a planned act but you enjoy it nonetheless. If not, you want her to do it again.
You take a moment to study your surroundings as Chaewon works her magic. Among the tall grass, propped by the pines are the hunters, who have been now tied up with translucent lassos. Not like it's necessary. They are too horny to even lift a finger.
The work is, without a doubt, done by Kazuha. And speaking of Kazuha, she nows sit on the ground, looking no less ragged than before. At least the bleeding have stopped. Her eyes are fixed on the scene of Chaewon blowing your cock. No sign of shame or embarassment on that cold face. The same face she has wore when you fucked her fellow angel Yeji.
You turn away from your audience back to the slutty goddess who's worshipping your cock. Her blowjob has become a total mess all this while - spit bubblig and drool spilling. Ever so often, a gag would comes out distorted whenver your cock hits the back of her throat. You look into those watery eyes and praise.
"Look at you, Artemis. All whiny about being allergic to man before and now you are letting a man shove his cock down your mouth. You must be the biggest liar ever"
Chaewon doesn't seem to understand any of your words so she just keeo bobbing her head. She has been brainwashed into a whore whose only will is to serve your cock. And you can live with that happily.
Chaewon doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. She just keeps impaling her hole on your cock again and again and again. Gag reflex seems a million light years away. Is this another perk of being a goddess?
You are becoming too consumed by Chaewon's sloppy head. It's filthy, wet and messy. A perfect brew of your darkest desires. If she keeps on with it, her pussy wouldn't be the place you are storing your load in.
It'd be so easy to get lost in the bliss her skillful tongue is providing but you have other holes to take care of. A s much as it's difficult, you grab a fistful of Chaewon's hair and stops her.
She looks up, chin drenched in her own drool. She almost looks disappointed about the abrupt halt.
"Let's take a look at that tight virgin hole, shall we?"
You ask and Chaewon nods in return.
"Is master gonna take my virginity? Finally fill my pussy with his hot load?"
If the Artemis in the distant past can see the brainless whore she hae become, she wouldn't have even tried to touch you. But now, it's too late.
"That's the plan. Turn around. Show me that ass"
"I can't wait for your cock to stuff me full, master"
And with that she turns, getting on all fours to display those pale cheeks. Her back is slick with sweat and it only gets you pumped up even more. You have no time for foreplay. Not with how drunk on arousal you are. You need to pound her cunt. Hard and fast.
"Ohhhhh fuckkkkk"
Chaewon lets out a carnal groan as soon as your tip part her lips, easing its way in inch by inch. Despite all the juices she has wet herself with earlier, you are surprised to find the grip of her pussy still unyielding. Her walls clench on you in a vice grip and if it's not for the mark, the pressure would have been unbearable.
You start off with a few slow thrusts, getting accustomed to the topography of her unused hole. It doesn't take long until your dick mold her insides to its shape. Getting the first taste of a man's dick, her pussy has already become addicted to the rigid foreign body stretching her out. Her walls are pulsing as if begging you to go deeper.
"Master. I need you to fill me up. Make me so full...nghhh"
You cut off Chaewon's breath by inserting another extra inch to suffice the goddess's thirst for your cock. The fingering earlier has done its job well to coat her walls with a natural lube. Her juice slicken walls allow you to ease in inch by inch.
The initial tighteness was no more. All it's left to do is stretch open the rest of her uncharted depths. You are in no rush. The only thing better than being the first time of someone is being the first time of a goddess.
The goddess who just tried to kill you.
It's sick but the thought is an unbearble turn on that gets your cock throbbing even more. All her daggers and arrows and blades are useless against your cock, opening her up like a gift.
"More. Give me more. Yes, stretch my cunt. Yes yes yessss"
Chaewon's past the point of saving. Cock drunk would be the only word to describe this new toy of yours. She won't stop begging even when she's getting impregnated by the gloriest cock to exist.
And the needy mewls go on when you finally bury your whole length to the hilt. You hold there, balls deep. A second passes. Then two. New status of Artemis: deflowered.
"You are filling me up so well master. I can feel you getting even harder. Are you gonna paint my insides? Put a baby in me? I-"
"Shut up, slut"
The constant nagging of Chaewon's get on your nerves in a twisted way, urging you to show no mercy to this goddess whose holes are the only use she will ever had. With a tight grip on her bangs, you pull her face up, looking into those rolled up bedroom eyes as you pound her hole without mercy.
The verse opf Artemis has become nothing but a backdrop for your impudent act - squelches of your pelvis against her cheeks echoing in every direction. It becomes even more harmonious combined with the raw unfiltered sounds Chaewon's producing.
So this is what it's like to ruin a goddess, you think. Taking Persephone anally was one hell of a ride(quite literally) but it's nothing compared to this. Artemis is a completely different breed. And this time, you don't have to worried about getting caught. You have all the time in the world. And you will spend it wisely.
Your tip kisses Chaewon's cunt as you ram your length into her with increasing force if that's even possible. Her cheeks jiggle like jelly each time you make contact and you can't resist the urge to spank that pale ass.
"Fuck!"
Chaewon mewls as soon as the first slap of many to come lands on her right cheek quickly followed by another to the left. You are memorized by the way her flesh ripples, which leads your palm to work relentlessly. Left, right, left, right and left, right until her round ass has turned scarlet - the proof of your ownership imprinted on her.
Getting pretty bored of her ass, you stop of a moment to turns her around in a missionary position. You give each of her tits a harsh slap before you ram your cock back into her snug cavern again.
"Yesssssss"
Eyes rolled up and tongue hanging out in a perfect ahaego face, Chaewon is no different from a cheap slut anyone can pound with a few bucks. That's how much she has come to love your rigid mamba violating her cherished hole in every way possible. And the best part is, she's loving it.
"Master. I'm gonna...."
You grip her thighs and opens her legs even wider to put yourself in a mating press position. This way, you can spear into Chaewon as deep as you could. When you start pistoning your hips, Chaewon shows her gratitude by spilling her juices for the second time.
You fuck her through her orgasm, not giving her a single moment to catch her breath. Afterall, she's your toy. And toys are supposed to stay there and be used whatever way their owner likes. And Chaewon is a perfect example.
You can feel the mark growing hoter, its red glow bathing Chaewon in a vermillion veil. As if in response, the blue mark on her chest shimmers even brighter. The sight of those two marks; an unbreakable connection pushes you over the edge.
If this isn't ecstasy, you don't know what is. You can feel the adrenaline inside you reaching the peak for a final time as you pump her cunt full of your hot, sticky cum. The first few spurts go straight to her womb soon followed by the remaining seeds in your balls, which are perfectly smeared all over her midriff and tits.
"Master's cum. So hot..."
Artemis mutters dreamily as you spill the few last drops on her face. Her fingers dig into her loose hole, digging out your cum before bringing it into her mouth.
"Mhmm. Delicious"
She collects more of your fluid all over her body, tating it like her favorite meal. On second thought, its no surpirse a slut like her can live on your cum.
You can feel the power already draining out from your body. The mark dims and fades until not a single trace of it is left on your skin. Then comes the fatigue, which hits you like a truck.
The world does a 360 degree around you and you have to hold yourself up on your palms. You could have just lied there and never woke up again. The mark has done its job and leaft you weak and frail.
Surprisingly, the mark have faded on Chaewon too. Her chest is back to the smooth canvas it once was. A stream of cum leaks out of her used hole as she lays there, heaving.
The scenery around you starts to shift. The wood has gone lifeless. The cold calm it once held has been replaced by an uncanny lifelessness. It makes your skin crawl.
Then cracks start to appear out of thin air like glass walls being fractured. The ground rumbles and a loud wail rises up from it. You panick, desperately seeking for something to hold onto.
"Hold there"
Kazuha's voice splits through the air.
"It will be over soon"
Who are you gonna trust if you don't trust an angel?
So you obey, trying not to scream as the whole place starts to crumble. More cracks have appeared and soon the world around you is covered by messy fractures.
Then the rumbling stops and with a sound like glass breaking, the scenery around you shatters to pieces.
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
You blink and you are back to the hall of Eros.
"I would have clapped if my hands weren't tied you know"
Eros is still there, not an inch moved fron his position before with hands bound. That stupid grin has beem plastered on his face - displaying his pearly whites.
"You are welcome"
You retort before realizing you are butt naked and instinctively cover your manhood with your hands.
"Kazuha gets to watch but I don't? No fair"
You would have punched Eros in the face if you don't feel like you are gonna pass out any moment. The audacity of this little fucker to joke around after putting your life on the line.
"Kazuha? What are you doing? Get me out of these"
Kazuha looks like she would have left Eros that way if he doesn't speak up. Reluctantly, she brings down her arms in a wide arc and slash through the chain.
"Thank you"
Eros's tone sound almost mocking as he stands and stretches his arms. After cracking his neck, he looks straight at you with those brilliant blue eyes.
"Well done, Michael! You have accomplished what I exactly hoped for"
"What? Fucking another goddess?"
"Her? Shush. No way"
He gestures to the right and that's when you see Artemis and all her hunters, sprawled out all across the hall with their bodies bare. None of them seems to be conscious.
"Do you know the reason I get caught? Because I intended to"
Another flex. Typical fucking Eros.
"Can you just get to the point? I can't promise you my mind and body will be in contact after a few minutes"
"You always skip the good parts Michael" He sounds almost regretful. "The thing is I enter Artemis's verse with the helm of darkness on purpose to lure her here"
"Wh-"
"Why? You may ask. Because I want her to kill you"
You are really starting to hate that habit of Eros that always seems to refuse giving a straight up answer. The god has to get a little 'creative'.
"Wh-"
"Why? To awaken the mark fully. To bring out its full potential. And you saw it didn't you? All the pain is worth it. It's a small price to pay for absolute power"
You hate yourself for believing the same thing. You would gladly traded all the blood you spilled to unlock the mark's secrets. Only you know what that power, that total certainity was like. It's like nothing else.
"So.....all the torturing Artemis did help the mark to reach its full power?"
"Exactly" Eros snaps his fingers.
"What about the helm of darkness then? Don't tell me you lost it"
"Oh no" Eros spreads his palm and the power symbol of Hades manifests with smoky tendrils. "I gave her a decoy"
Did what Eros said explain everything?
Not at all. This love god looks all jolly and easy going on the outside but sometimes, his action reminds you that you have no idea how twisted he actually is deep down. He has helped you obtained all this power and for what? And also something Artemis had said about someone else possessing the mark before you.....
"Why-"
Your question is interrupted by a loud chime reasonating around the hall. You have absolutely no idea this place has door bells.
"Who......"
Eros trails off before his eyes fix on a single door of many that circles the hall. This one is a set of tall marble doors with numerous designs of flowers and swans engraved on its surface. Seems like something Eros would absolutely love. But the god doesn't look so happy right now.
"Oh...shit"
The doors swung open and bright rays of light flood the room. You have to put up your arms to shield your eyes. The glow finally subsides to reveal a figure, standing with arms crossed.
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Anger lines are eteched onto Karina's face - offering a strak contrast to its otherworldly beauty. The leader of Aespa looks like she's going to explode any moment.
"Eros!" She grumbles. "What are you doing?"
The usual carefree look on Eros's face is no more. All you can see is fear and dread.
His lips part and seal rapidly like a seabass, unable to make a sound. After a while, realization dawns on his face that he can't escape this. And that's when he speaks.
"Mom?"
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
(This has been in my drafts for so long and I'm just too lazy to finish it. Might have gone a bit overboard with the word count. This is probably the longest fic I have written lol. Enjoy)
703 notes · View notes
sturnsdarling · 5 months ago
Text
gloves off
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Hockeyplayer!Matt is on the ice, and a guy from the other team says something about his girl, so Matt deals with him
vibe check: based of this edit, violence, fighting descriptions, blood, fluff at the end, lowkey pick me vibes from reader but i don't actually care i love being cringe
1.7k words
A/N: I got a req for hockey matt and didn't see it until i saw that edit... I know some people don't like it but angry!matt makes my coochie tingle
love and cigs, merc
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It was weekly occurrence, coming to watch Matt play hockey. Sometimes you were just watching him practice, others you were watching actual games. Today was the latter, his team was playing against the rival college, a game everyone had been waiting for for months.
They had spent weeks working their way up the leagues to finally get into the final stretch against each other, the school rivalry going back decades and either side being riddled with personal beef, some petty, some slightly more serious.
It was half way through the match, Matt had already been given multiple penalties for violent behaviour, slamming kids into the ice and barriers, sometimes because they deserved it, mostly because it was fun.
There was one specific kid on the other team, Josh Anderson, and Matt fucking hated him. They went through all of school together, playing hockey against each other since they could hold a stick. Anderson had always been bigger than Matt, until he had his growth spurt, and he made it his personal mission to make Matts life a living hell purely because he could. They hadn't played against each other in nearly three years, and Matt knew he had to come down hard on him.
They spent the whole first half of the game tormenting each other, pissing each other off in every way possible. Matt had already broken a stick, whacking his first one off the barrier after Anderson got him a penalty for something ridiculous. He was by the sidelines, standing with you as you taped his new stick for him, a tradition you had started even before you started dating.
"I'm gonna fuckin' bury him" Matt said, eyes trained on Anderson as he rubbed small circles on your arm.
You were taping the stick with green tape, your favourite colour, and just letting Matt rant, "he's irrelevant, my love, don't let him get under your skin" you cooed, knowing it would go in one ear and out the other.
"I dunno who he thinks he is, fuckin' pussy always coming after me like I wont break his jaw" Matt wasn't listening to you, but you didn't mind, you knew what he was like when he got in the zone for hockey, especially when he was pissed off.
You finished taping up his stick, scanning it with a satisfied hum and handing it to him, catching his attention. He looked to you with a clenched jaw that relaxed the moment he looked in your soft eyes.
"thanks, baby" Matt smiled, leaning over the barriers slightly to kiss you before pulling his helmet over his head properly and putting in his mouth guard.
He pushed away, skating across the ice to take his place, waiting for the second half buzzer to go off. As it did, he pointed to you, followed by a double tap on his chest plate, one for every year you'd been together.
The game began, and they didn't hold back at all. Matt was angrier than ever, and knowing that only made Anderson more eager to piss him off. They played for about ten minutes before the score shifted in the other teams favour. Anderson skated across the ice, celebrating a goal he didn't even score and b-lined for Matt, skating past him and maintaining eye contact through their helmets.
"Yo, Sturniolo, when we win, tell your girl I want her on her knees for me in the locker rooms as my trophy" Anderson said, his tone smug as a sly grin formed on his face.
A hot rage flooded through Matt, every once of anger boiling to the surface as he watched Anderson skate around him, taunting him to do something. His jaw clenched tight, and he saw red.
Matt threw his stick on the ice, bounding over to Anderson and pushing him backwards, sending him flying back onto the ice. Everyone in the stadium gasped in sync, and you immediately stood to your feet.
"you wanna say shit about my girl? huh? say it again, I fuckin' dare you" Matt spat, pulling out his mouth guard and standing over Anderson on the ice.
Anderson just laughed, pushing himself to his feet and pulling his mouth guard out.
"still that same angry little kid, aren't you Sturniolo?" He grinned, pressing his tongue to his teeth.
"yeah, I am, and you're still the same fuckin' loser you were back then, so come on, Anderson, say something about my girl again" Matt said, squaring up to the boy, who was once double his height, that he was now eye to eye with.
Everyone in the stadium had stopped, time standing still as the whole room watched the disaster in front of them unfold, not even the ref was getting involved, knowing from the events of the first half that the boys clearly had something to sort out.
"ion' want your bum ass girl, Sturns, she's probably been passed around the whole team" Anderson chuckled, looking to the boys all standing round in anticipation.
That was all it took, before Anderson could look back, Matts gloves were off, and his fist was connected with the plastic of Andersons helmet, sending it flying across the ice as Matts knuckles connected with Andersons jaw.
Matt sent him flying onto the ice, crawling on top of him and pummelling into him relentlessly. The whole room erupted, people screaming to get Matt off him, Matts team cheering him on and Andersons team berating the ref for not stopping it. No one even tried to get involved, all slightly terrified by the sight of Matt denting the ice with the back of Andersons skull. You on the other hand, were begging security to let you on the ice, moving in a flash the moment you saw Matt take his gloves off
Matt was relentless, and Anderson was just as bad, hitting Matt back the best he could. There was a split second where Anderson was on top of Matt, laying into him and cracking the plastic face shield off the bridge of his nose. Matt simply smiled with blood covered teeth, just before cocking his head forward, head butting Anderson with the plastic of his helmet, and the next thing you knew, Matt was back on top of him, punching him over and over again.
You finally got onto the ice, struggling to walk straight as you screamed Matts name over and over again. He couldn't hear you, he was in a world of his own, laying into the nearly unconscious boy beneath him.
"Matt!" You screamed, grabbing his arm as he raised it once more to hit Anderson with a final blow.
Your touch brought Matt back to reality, his attention snapping to you immediately. His eyes were bloodshot, a bruise already forming on his definitely broken nose as bright red blood began to dry on the lower half of his face. The look of pleading on your face, the tears pricking in your eyes and your grip on Matts wrist, made all the muscles in his body relax.
"stop, please" you said, softly.
Matt looked up at you, brows flinching slightly before he looked down to Andersons groaning, stuttering body on the ice, and then back to you. You lowered your head slightly, looking at Matt through your lashes with pleading eyes. He couldn't help but crumble, getting up off the ice and near enough melting into your arms.
Your hands round his shoulders, his arms round your waist and head buried in your neck, you just stood their on the ice for what felt like forever, rubbing Matts back with slow touches as everyone began to tend to Anderson.
"lets go, yeah?" you muttered to Matt, and he nodded into your neck.
In the locker rooms,
Matt sat on the bench opposite you, his broken helmet next to him as you perched on the bench, patting the blood from his face with a damp, warm towel. He hissed with every touch, and you apologised softly nearly every time.
"that was really fucking stupid, Matt" You said, looking at his bloodied features intently.
Matt sighed, "I know" He scanned over your face as you gently cared for him.
"you could get kicked from the team" You said, shaking your head slightly
Matt hissed as you brushed his bruised and blooded nose with the towel, "I know" he repeated.
"so then why did you do it?" You asked, only a small once of judgement in your tone.
"he said shit about you" Matt admitted
You stopped your movements, pulling your eyes from Matts nose to lock eyes with him. He was already looking at you, eyes sad like a puppy. You sighed, shaking your head as an uncontrollable half smile formed on your face.
Matts bloodied hand came to your jaw, cupping your cheek in his big hand as his thumb rubbed the soft skin there.
"he started speaking about you, and - and I just lost it" Matt said, his tone soft.
You leaned into his touch, brows furrowed slightly as your eyes poured into his bright blue ones, flitting between them.
"the kid has basically bullied me my whole life, and now I'm finally just as big as he is, I jus-" Matt sighed, "I needed a reason to batter him, and he gave me one"
"me?" you questioned with tight knit brows
Matt nodded, pressing his thumb into your skin with more pressure, "you're the most important thing in my life, more than any stupid place on the team or petty childhood beef, n' I can handle him comin' for me, I don't give a fuck, but he came for you and-" frustrated tears started to form in his eyes, so he stopped talking.
You practically melted at the sight, pressing a long kiss into Matts palm,
"I love you" you said, softly.
Matt smiled slightly, despite the pain it caused him and brought your head to his lips, pressing a short kiss onto your forehead.
"I love you more" Matt replied.
Normally, you would have gotten into a twenty minute long back and forth about who loved who more, but today, Matt had earned rights to that title, and even though the way he handled the situation wasn't ideal, at least you knew you never had to doubt his love for you.
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