#queued for after black out

[every-sanji]

[victorluvsalice]

-->But oh shit – all that took long enough that it was 11:30 PM! AKA prime “Countdown to Midnight”-watching time! I couldn’t have the gang (in particular Smiler) miss it AGAIN after what happened at the dance party last time! So I quickly slapped a TV into the sitting room upstairs in the house, then had Victor and Smiler teleport there and Alice use her super speed to run up to meet (unfortunately, she can’t tunnel into actual buildings – and DEFINITELY not onto the second floor!). Fortunately, they all arrived in good time, and everyone got to witness the countdown to midnight and properly celebrate this time around. :) Alice gave Victor a kiss on the cheek, and Smiler gave them a hug, aww. :) Seriously glad they made it – I would have been sad if they’d missed out on that tradition AGAIN.

-->And with that, it was time to head home! Alice made some Italian meatballs as both she and Victor were feeling hungry; Victor checked on the greenhouse and took the cone off Kelly; and Smiler entertained the kittens before heading to the barn to make some computer chips and mechanisms. Victor and Alice then went to bed as the holiday ended on a successful note for all of them. And Kelly adorably batted at the knitting box in the seance room. XD Might as well end on a cute note, right? Next time -- well, I happen to have played the next session on Black Friday, so it only felt right to do the gang running their grocery store. XD We'll see you then!

[elliesmainhoe]

need ellie to take care of me drunk desperately

i love your writing 😭

Rescue Remedy

e.williams x fem!reader

summary: you call Ellie to come and rescue you from a bar after having a few too many drinks

warnings: alcohol, cigarettes, mentions of hangovers, slurred speech, drunk crying, fluff.

just realized this is basically a self insert vent post of a very similar situation I've been in LMAO

WC 1K

DAY 4 OF SAPPHIC SUMMER

you were relieved when the familiar beaten up Ford focus pulled up beside you. you'd been sitting on the curb for almost 15 minutes- tear stained cheeks, smudged glitter and mascara as your body shook and jittered from both the cold Seattle night and the mixture of cigarette smoke and alcohol causing the most humbling case of hiccups you think you've ever had.

"Ells!" you whined, a new flood of tears streaming from your eyes at the sight of your night in shining armour- your girlfriend.

"c'mon sweet girl" she huffed, hair thrown up messily in the usual half up, half down style, clad in red and black checkered pyjama pants, black hoodie that was splattered with paint topped off with the obnoxious lime green crocks you'd gotten her for her one Christmas, of course decked out in charms shed collected over the past few months.

before you could even process it you were sitting in the passenger seat, leather seats sticking to your sweat glazed skin, and sobs turning to hiccups.

this had been the worst night out you'd had since your 21st. and as soon as the car revved and moved down the road, Ellie's hand pressed firmly on your bare thigh, the fabric of your dress not long enough to cover the majority of your thigh.

"what happened sweet girl?" oh and by that one question, it's like Ellie had opened a flood gate.

firstly, you got to the club of choice after having to walk almost a mile from where your designated driver had parked, accompanied by a couple of friends. after queuing on the curb for almost thirty minutes, you reached the front of the queue and then promptly realized you had left you purse. with your id. in the car. a mile away.

so after you'd trekked all the way to the car, retrieving your purse and id, getting back to the club, queuing for another 30 minutes, on your own this time- as your friends who had not forgotten their id decided to go in and leave you to sort your shit out.

let's just say you were already a little pissed off.

secondly, you got in the club and it stunk. not just of sweat and booze, but piss. fucking piss. and to top that all off you couldn't find your friends so- you did what any other sane person would do and ordered shots.

shots that were actually doubles, but of course you hadnt realized that until way too late.

which leads into the final stage of the night, your head being deep in a grimy toilet bowl, knees bruised from having to kneel on tiles that were not grouted properly and pieces of them shot out and cut at your skin.

and by that point you had gotten out your phone, which was now on 7% charge because you had offers to use your GPS and it drained all your battery, and was a blubbering mess on call with your girlfriend.

you would later have to retell the story again, as apparently according to Ellie- she couldn't understand a word you were saying, just nodding along in a desperate attempt to keep you awake long enough to get a glass of water and a slice of toast down you.

it must have been during your tangent when you'd gotten home, as when you finally finished your incoherent mumbling you were sitting on the beat up leather couch of yours and Ellie's apartment, a couch you'd hated as soon as you moved in, but Ellie had a weird attachment to so it stayed in it's place, the first thing you saw when you entered the home.

Ellie was kneeling in front of you, sitting between your thighs and facing you, holding up a large glass of water,

"sip baby" she spoke softly, to which you groaned.

"do- do- I haveeeeeee to?" you whined, batting your eyelashes in an attempt to distract your girlfriend "jus' wan' sleep"

"you can sleep after you drink that." after another groan you took a sip of the glass of water- admittedly, it was refreshing, however you still gagged to prove a point.

"good girl" she purred, standing up and kissing your forehead, moving over to the cabinet to grab a packet of pills.

"fuck off"

she laughs, moving back with a small white pill in the palm of her hand, to which you begrudgingly take after Ellie promises to take you to get ice cream the day after.

you felt your eyelids droop once more, you couldn't tell if it was sleep, or just your false eyelashes becoming suddenly very heavy, you whine "'m tired ells..."

"alright I hear you, c'mon baby" she sighs, leaving a half eaten piece of toast on the coffee table, one arm supporting your back and the other under your knees as she made her way to your bedroom, plopping you on the mattress and you sigh, already drifting to sleep before you screech at the feeling of something wet in your face.

"hey- hey" Ellie laughs, "I'm just taking off your makeup baby, just taking off your makeup", she smiles, dragging a cotton pad across your skin, taking off the creams and powders you had applied previously, smudged mascara coming off with it.

Ellie was thankful you'd taken off your clothes as soon as you stepped foot into the apartment saying something which she thinks was "dresses like these are modern day torture devices"- but with the way you slur your words when drunk she could never be sure, leaving you just in your underwear, making her job a whole lot easier.

trying to maneuver you, who had now dropped on the mattress like a deadweight, would've been a too strenuous task for 3am.

after discarding the used wipes and pulling your hair back into a very messy ponytail, Ellie scooted in beside you, the mattress sinking as you unconsciously snuggle in closer, head nuzzling into the girls neck, her hand going around to caress your back, soothing you into an easy sleep.

the hangover tomorrow was going to be horrible.

••••••••••••••

The third time I've tried to write this, I almost gave up 🥰

[venuiscmind]

Please write some skin to skin with Ellie. I need a break from her strap!! 😮‍💨😪😫

I need rubbing pussies together and desperate fingering 😩!!!

<3

Skin. (Ellie Williams x reader smut) 18+

read this pls. and this too (info about the next strike.)

You and Ellie go out for a night on the town but things quickly get very heated.

W.C: 6.2K

Warnings: squirting (ellie squirts, i'll die on this hill), oral,semi public sex, tribbing, scissoring, fingering, multiple orgasms, getting called a good girl and a slut, spit play, tiny bit of anal, some sub dom dynamics (y'all are switches and like to change it up), small bit of exhibitionism, some degradation, praise, weed, smoking, alcohol.(please be responsible when you go out, do as I say not as I do.)

Genuinely think this is the nastiest fic I've ever written. I need to find god and touch grass.

Requests are open so keep giving me inspo cause it helps a lot.

Loved this request btw, I also got inspo from when I went out ooph.

</3.

You grinned at Ellie, looking at the girl exhale the carbon from your shared cigarette.  

"What." she inquired raising her eyebrows at you, her tone flat. She wasn't even looking at you, staring at a broad woman checking IDs of people queuing to get into the cities most favoured club. You didn't miss the furrow between them, a dead giveaway that she was not happy at that moment.  

You took the burning cigarette she held out for you. "Nothing." You smiled around the cigarette, taking a beat to look around at the streetlamps illuminating the dark pavements, letting you see the shutdown stores and closed cafes and restaurants, littered with girls strutting up and down them shivering much like you and Ellie were.

Smoke breaks were never warm but with Ellie's arm looped around you, and yours on her waist you didn't feel the cold as much.  

You loved your city at night. Filled with old streetlamps, the orange and yellow white light making you feel free and grounded at the same time. Especially with your auburn-haired girl in your arms.  

After weeks of rotting in the campus library you decided to go out, both of you dressing up for the occasion to make the most of the time you had with each other. Away from the textbooks and other students.  

"There's obviously something you'd like to say so c'mon, tell meeee." You whined at her, flicking ash off the cigarette before exhaling to the side.  

"All I'm saying is that bouncer didn't have to ask you to fuckin' smile to check your ID? The fuck was that even about." She mumbled looking off to the side at the bouncer who was doing her job checking the ID if some random girl trying to sneak in.  

You giggled and leant into Ellie's side more, putting the cigarette back between her lips, watching her inhale before holding it between her pointer finger and thumb. "Ignore her," you said, looping your now free hands around her waist, under her oversized leather jacket and dark flannel around her waist. "I'm here to get into your pants not hers." you said looking into her eyes accentuated by the smoked out black eyeliner you had given her, parting your glossed lips trying to soothe the girl's building anger.  

You took her jaw in your hand, angling it to face you before tilting it as if to ask if it was going to be an issue. She took the cigarette out of her mouth to take a breathe, never looking away.  

She looked down at your face for a moment before her full lips curved up. She brought the smoke back up to her lips inhaling deeply "You're trying to get into my pants baby?" You felt a bead of sweat drip right by your temple. You couldn't tear your eyes away from her green ones as she gripped you closer to her. Her lips were so close to yours that you could feel her breath on them, and she ran a hand down your face. 

"Maybe." 

She looked you over for a moment before giving you a peck and stepping away from you breaking the standstill moment. She gave you plenty of those, where all you could do was focus on her. The slight buzz the nicotine was giving you accentuating the feeling.  

"C'mon, before you freeze out her. Let's go back in." 

You nodded and she put threw the cigarette on the ground, stomping on it to put it out. She held out her hand to you, quickly flashing both yours and her ID to the bouncer who said a gruff "Go on." Maybe she had witnessed yours and Ellie's public display of affection and wasn't happy with it you thought.  

You hardly cared anymore. 

All you could feel was the excitement of feeling the bass in your boots as you shrugged off your coat, leaving you in your red leather, skirt and black top. Both of which hugged your curves, letting Ellie see all that you had.  

She did the same but took off her flannel too, leaving her in a black tank, jeans, docs brought out by a small chain and her rings. Fuck she looked good. Especially in the red, low lights of the club, with her smoked out eyeliner you had done for her before leaving the house. The black really brought out the green in her eyes, contrasting her pale freckled skin. You both stashed them behind some random couch of the room.  

"Drink?" You saw Ellie mouth at you, her voice drowned out by a thumping song which was begging you to dance. You nodded, watching her flag down a bartender to pour you shots of tequila. You did however sneak in your phone to tap against the card machine before she could.  

"My round!" You yelled into her ear, taking the shot from her smiling at her while raising the shot glass. She smiled and nodded, letting you pay for her this time. She always paid majority of the time, but you loved taking care of her too when you could. She raised her glass to clink against her before you both tilting your heads back to let the liquid go down your throats, burning slightly on the way. Ellie winced at the liquid while you grinned at her and said, "We have to dance!" 

Ellie laughed letting you pull her down onto the dancefloor packed with other bodies. She always said the shots went right your hips rather than your head, always begging her to dance with you after taking one. 

You slid right into the middle of it, taking her right under the lights. You hung your hands around her neck, placing your head right into the space between her neck and shoulder inhaling slightly. In turn she put her hands right on your hips. They burned into you as you both swayed to the beat of the song, slower one that you could slink against each other.  

You sighed into her. You really did love this girl, despite the occasional anger issue she had with anyone looking at you. In her eyes you were her pretty girl, and no one should be staring at you like that but her.  

The songs transitioned as the evening went on. You and Ellie had broken away from each other but were still tethered to each other by whenever your hands held onto each other, or you swayed together to the bass of the songs. You couldn't keep apart for very long, always wanting to touch the girl in front of you. You were both grinning, sweating and laughing under the red strobe lights as you danced together.  

Ellie was never a dancer but with you she tried, keeping pace but also wanting to watch you under the lights. You changed when you danced. Watching your hips roll in a way she could never outside of the bedroom or when you ran your hands up and down your body to tease her. Your instincts took over and you knew how to move. These were on of the few moments your body knew what to fully do.  

You loved dancing with Ellie because your body took over then too.  

You never broke apart for too long, letting her twirl you under the red hue or you'd rock your hips against hers. You held onto both her hands tightly as you stole a kiss from her. You melted, feeling your glossed lips push against hers and her hands slipped down from your hips to your ass covered by a leather skirt.  

You placed a hand on the middle if her chest as she deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue into your mouth but you pushed her back.  

She looked confused before grinning at what you had felt. She grabbed your hand pulling you in and whispering into your ear "smoke break?" to which you eagerly nodded.  

You both made your way deeper into the club, to find the smoking room. It was full of people who had either had enough of dancing or who had come to stand around here in the first place. You rubbed your ears as you could feel your eardrums re-adjusting to the lack of noise and easing into the chatter of the room.  

Ellie stroked your hand, keeping you grounded as you stumbled behind her. She led you to the outdoor area which had hardly anyone in there. A few people who you suspected had the same intentions as you, judging by the smell. 

You closed the door behind you, quickly joining your partner as she placed the joint she had rolled earlier and kept in her sport bra in case security patted her down and would confiscate from her in her lips. She cupped the end of it, sparking it with her silver reusable lighter patting the space next to her beckoning you to sit down so she could pass it to you.  

She blew the ash of the end of it before holding it for you to take. You hummed and slotted it between your manicured fingers before holding it up to your lips and inhaling the way you had been taught.  

"Still can't believe security didn't pat us down? Lucky fuckin' break ‘cause I didn't want my blunt going to that security guard." 

You giggled "Ellie, you have got to let that go." You brought the joint back up to inhale, the end if it lighting up as you breathed before passing it back to you.  

Now was smoking, drinking shots, and smoking a blunt the best idea? Maybe not. But you rarely went out and you figured why not? 

You felt so safe with Ellie. Her tolerance was far better than yours, and if anything should happen you felt right at home with her. You peered out past the railing keeping you near the building at all the twinkling lights. You felt Ellie come up behind you to sneak her hands around your waist. She placed her cheek on your shoulder grumbling.  

You laughed at her antics feeing her shake along with your laughter. You laughed even harder when you saw she was still holding out the blunt for you to take, it coming virtually out if nowhere but floating into your peripheral vision.  

Instead of taking it, you had Ellie keep holding onto it while you leant down and inhaled from it. Your lips brushed her long digits leaving a glittery, brownish pink, you shaped smudge on her fingers. 

She had straightened up at that point watching you, and you lifted your eyes to meet hers as you exhaled out the smoke.  

"Never." She said rubbing her thumb against your glossed lips.  

"That's a pretty colour, how come you've never worn this one?" 

"It's new baby, remember you bought it for me last week?" 

You kissed her hand, thanking her for her small, sweet gifts she always got you while out.  

Ellie couldn't stop her mind from drifting. Maybe it was the weed or the shots, but she wanted to feel your lips somewhere else. She wanted to see your lipstick and eyeliner smudged with from your actions.  

She coughed, clearing her throat and trying to keep herself grounded. She inhaled her last puff not wanting to overdo it and held it out to you in case you wanted more. 

You did the exact same thing, keeping your eyes trained on your girl, watching her breath hitch, her chain glinting in the moonlight as her breathing became uneasy.  

Distantly you wondered if people queuing outside the club could see you from down there, if people in their cars speeding down the streets could see you eye-fucking your girlfriend. You suspected the people in the apartments definitely could and the people in the smoking area absolutely cou- 

Well fuck.  

You definitely felt it.  

You giggled and looked down at the ground as you felt the high slowly creep up over your brain. It was a slow acting bud Ellie had gotten this week so it would take a while for the feeling to peak but you could feel your limbs become lighter and heavier at the same time.  

"You feelin' it pretty girl?" Ellie lifted your face to check on you. Your eyes had turned the tiniest shade of pink but were mostly still white. Your pupils had become a little big but not that noticeable unless someone were really looking for it.  

Ellie knew though, because she was feeling the exact same thing. You were both fucked, she thought laughing along with you. 

She felt you take her hands and hold them against your powdered cheeks and nuzzle into them.  

"C'mere." She said tugging you into her arms. You groaned into her chest. Your nose was practically shoved down her black sports bra. 

"You good down there pretty girl? Pretty sure motorboating is frowned upon in public spaces but I'm not gonna stop you." 

You laughed pushing her away from you and walking towards the door back into the club. "I need some water, you comin?" 

Ellie looked at you for a moment. Her eyes drifting up and down as she smushed the roach into the ashtray provided and joined you by your side walking into the club again. 

You pressed yourself up against the counter of the bar, slumping into it while you waited for a bartender to stop in front of you. Once you'd had them you walked over to where Ellie had sat down on the couch, near where you had hidden your jackets.  

You smiled down at her, gently handing her one of the glasses in your hands. You took a few sips looked her down, dark flannel, several buttons open, exposing her black sports bra underneath, and an expanse of pale freckled skin that you wanted to kiss right then and there. Her toned legs spread slightly open and although you knew you shouldn't, you sat down on one of them. 

She pulled you across her lap, fingers digging into your hips as you both set down your glasses of water. You both studied each other's faces, you held a hand to her face which she leant into while giving you a fulfilled look. You were sure you had the same one on your face.  

You were both pulled out of the moment by a song of both of yours playing on the dancefloor. You both grinned to each other as you got up and rushed back to the floor, dancing again. You both yelled out the lyrics, twirling each other and laughing together until the beat changed into something slower, something deeper more sensual.  

You moved closer to Ellie, dancing with you. She had your hands all over you and maybe the weed had made everything feel so much more intense, but you thought you could feel them everywhere. You turned around but kept close to her to you. You could feel her breath turn shaky, pressed up behind you as her breath came down on your shoulder. You swayed against her feeling her hands on your tummy keeping you close to her.  

You lowered your knees, keeping to the rhythm of the song to get closer to her centre and ran a hand through your hair in a way you knew would keep her eyes on you.  

You suddenly couldn't breathe when your ass came in contact with her crotch. She kissed your neck hard enough to bruise trying to keep herself grounded as she felt herself growing more and more warm and flush all over her body. 

You twirled back around, to take a look at your girlfriend which proved to be a massive mistake. The red lights had taken her, making her look more dangerous and devastatingly beautiful than ever. She looked at you, like she could take all of you then and there. 

You bit into your lip, before yelling into her ear "Bathroom?" 

Ellie nodded and tugged you, moving people gently out of the way so she could get you through them.  

She pushed open the heavy wooden door filled with multiple stalls in normal dim white light.  

You leant against the sink, taking yourself in for a moment. Skin flushed, eyes pink, hair dishevelled. Your eyes shifted as you laid them on Ellie, making eye contact with you.  

You turned taking her face into your hands. Full parted lips, parted to try to keep breathing even though she knew it was futile. She was always like this when it came to you. Always breathing her last breath, and never taking in enough oxygen because all that was on her mind was you. Freckles, flushed skin and green eyes that were focused on your lips. They had a pink hue to them, letting you know that she felt the high too.  

You leaned in to kiss her, pulling her jaw down to meet you in the middle. You groaned into the kiss, which had turned sloppy so quickly, or maybe you had taken your time with it but everything felt so fuzzy and warm you couldn't tell anymore. All you felt was the girl's lips gliding against yours, her tongue invading your mouth and all your senses. You moaned into her mouth, pressing yourself up against her to which she answered by letting her hands drifting under your skirt to your ass.  

"Fuck." Ellie groaned between kisses.  

"Are." Peck. "you." Peck. "trying to." Peck. "fucking kill me." Smooch. She turned your face to kiss every part of it causing you to giggle. 

"Maybe. But I just want to keep kissing you right now." You said brushing strands of her hair out of her face, which kept falling whenever she kissed you.  

Her hands were everywhere again but the touches more desperate than before. Under your shirt, under your skirt, squishing your cheeks to steal another kiss from you.  

You didn't exactly remember whose idea it was to move into a stall, but you do remember walking backwards against the door of one and Ellie following you in with a predatory gaze.  

She cornered you against the wall of the bathroom stall, kissing down your body murmuring pleas against the skin. You huffed out, letting your head fall back against the cool cement walls, as you felt her hot breath on your skin. You raked a hand through her short hair, stroking her cheeks as she pushed up your skirt to your tummy and pulled down your underwear, letting you step out of them before pocketing them.  

"I hope you plan on giving me those back later Els..." you whined out. 

"Wouldn't count on it." she said and finally ran a finger along your folds.  

You took a sharp inhale as you felt her moving your slick, running it along your clit before dropping them as far as your opening. You shivered, "Els?" you huffed out.  

She only responded with a soft "Hm?" appearing too busy with continuing your torment. "Please Els? Can you touch me properly?" You begged the girl, your knees buckling slightly as you tried to keep yourself upright while she touched you. 

Ellie held your thigh, keeping you upright as well as keeping your legs open that buckles and shut slightly every time she moved.  

"Dunno." She replied, casually as if nothing was wrong.  

You groaned, knowing what the girl wanted and you couldn't deny her anymore. Not like this anyways.  

"Keep 'em." 

"Sorry I'm gonna need you to say that again. Didn't catch that." 

"You can keep them Els, just fuckin' do something please." 

"Keep what baby?" She said looking up at you as she slipped her middle finger inside of you.  

You grabbed onto her shoulder to steady yourself as you felt her reaching inside of you, gently fucking into you, finding the spot that had you squirming away and simultaneously rolling your hips against her tattooed hand. 

"Keep the panties, El, they're yours just don' stop." You sighed out, head facing the ceiling as you breathed out your words. 

"Good girl." She rewarded your generosity by inching her face closer, to your pussy, and kissing your clit before latching her lips to suck gently on you. 

"Oh, fuck Ellie." You sobbed out trying to stay quiet, grabbing gently onto her head to try and get her impossibly closer to your sopping folds.  

The girl trailed her tongue down to your opening before shoving the muscle inside of you. At that point, you shut your eyes tightly, held your breath in an attempt to keep quiet and couldn't focus on anything except the feeling of Ellie inside of you, and her nose bumping against your clit. 

It wasn't long before you came, riding out your high with the girl tucked between your thighs and you practically humping her face, trying to get her tongue and face as deep inside you as possible.  

Ellie was trying to taste as much of you as she could, slurping and licking every bit of sensitive skin you exposed for her. When she spelled away you could see all the efforts of both your actions on her face, which was covered in slick, on her cheeks, lips, jaw and nose.  

There was still a string attaching you to her lips. 

"Oh." You said holding your hands up to your mouth, trying not to giggle. 

"What?" Ellie said, furrowing her brows at you, wiping at her chin as she looked at you. 

"What do you mean what? You have me all over your face Ellie." You said trying you help her clean herself off laughing softly.  

"What can I say I got lost in the sauce." She grinned. 

Your jaw dropped as you smacked her on her shoulder.  

She laughed, rubbing at her face getting most of if off but missing spots on her chin. 

"Here." You said taking her chin in your hands and kissing it off.  

She looked back at you with glazed pink eyes, before kissing you again. 

Fuck, you thought to yourself. This had been a bad idea. All you could think about was tasting her now. Your hands gently reached for the zipper if her pants as she took your wrist and said, "You don' have to if you don' want to you know?" She always got shy like this whenever you wanted to reciprocate.  

"I know but I really want to Els. Will you please let me?" You blinked at her with doe eyes you knew would always work. She looked as you nuzzled your cheeks near the zipper of her pants, face brushing against her clit as you whimpered against the fabric, wanting to touch her. She ran her hands against your lip and nodded after searching into your pink eyes.  

She stood up and let you unbuckle her belt, pull down her pants and boxes in one go. She was a mess, dripping onto her thighs, and all over her folds.  

You plunged your head between her thighs and licked, slurped and sucked. 

"Wanna fuck you again when we get home Ellie, can I?” You murmured against her clit. 

"Oh, fuck you're really feeling it aren't you? So fuckin' needy,” she said taking your jaw in her hands to stare into your reddish eyes. You had reached the peak of your and wanted more and more of her. As much as she could possibly give you that night. 

She lifted your face closer to hers and once she was beside your ear she said, "Open up for me." and she then proceeded to spit on your awaiting tongue, and you whimpered as you swallowed her.  

You felt your legs getting soaked again as you grinded against nothing.  

"That's my good girl" she sighed as you nuzzled your face against her thighs, nose brushing her pubic mound and clit. 

You went back to tasting her when she grabbed the back of your neck and pushed you against her folds. You moaned into her, feeling her slick seep onto your tongue as you suck on her lips, clit and slipped your tongue inside of her. 

She shivered at the sensation, looking down at you pushing into her thighs and entrance as she grabbed the back of your head pulling you in closer. "So fuckin' good. You love getting slutted out like this don't you baby hm?" 

All you could do was nod against her. You pulled back to speak and look up at her before going back in for more of her. "Uh-huh. Love you els, love you so much."  

"Love you too pretty girl-fuck." 

Ellie whimpered as she came on your lips and gently pushed you away once she came so as not to get too overstimulated too fast.  

She watched as you wiped your face off, licking off whatever was left off her on your hands on your tongue.  

She knelt down to press a messy kiss against your lips. "So fuckin' nasty for me baby." She kissed you over and over before murmuring "You wanna get out of here pretty girl? Promise I'll make you feel so good when we get home." She groaned into your neck.  

You nodded against her, letting her pull you onto your feet before dressing the both of you and making sure you looked presentable.  

"Ellie my underwear, you gotta give 'em back." You pleaded with her.  

She turned you around to look at your ass, pulled your skirt down and you squeaked at the sudden groping and quick smack she gave you.  

"Nah, don't think so. You'll be fine it's just a 10-minute walk back to the apartment. C'mon I'll keep an eye on you." She said ushering you out of the stall, as you both washed your hands and cleaned your faces properly in the mirror.  

You walked to collect, your jackets from the couch putting them on and walking back out to the street, Ellie keeping her hands on your waist. Unbeknownst to you, she looked back at the security guard who was watching you both strut down the street and smirked at her, watching as her mouth fell into a hard straight line.  

She grinned and kissed your hands, trying to keep them warm.  

Both your cheeks were pink from the cold, as you breathed into the air watching the air in your body turn to mist in the night sky as Ellie shoved the key to your shared apartment into the keyhole. You hopped around trying to stay warm till Ellie pulled you into the apartment. helped you take off your coat and pulled you in for a kiss.  

You gasped and whimpered as she pulled your hair into a tight makeshift ponytail and tugged, causing your mouth to pry open as you felt her gaze on you. You looked up at her as she said "You gonna be good for me, pretty girl?"  

You nodded, biting into your lip and humming an affirmative. She let go and smacked your ass telling you to "Get upstairs. I'll be with you in a minute." She said before pecking you on the cheek. 

You giggled and ran up the stairs, following the girls demands as she pulled off her jacket and sighed. She took out the pack of cigarettes and lit one quickly while she walked over to the tap and got two glasses of water for you and her to drink. She sat down on a kitchen chair with an ashtray next to her. She heard a thump upstairs and frowned. She wondered what you could be getting up to there.  

She took a last puff of it before she stubbed out her cigarette, took the two glasses of water in her hands and marched up the stairs to see what you were doing.  

She was met with you, sitting at the edge of the bed, looking up at her and naked. That thump she had heard was the sound of you dropping your boots on the floor as you stripped off and had thrown your clothes on the floor. She shook her head grinning and said "Here." handing over the glass of water to you. 

You took it and sipped from it before she took it back and placed it on the nightstand.  

She took off her rings too placing them on the wooden surface. 

She took your cheeks in hand, squeezing them together and kissed you. "You okay if I get a little rough with you?" she whispered in your ear, "Wanna make you feel it." She palmed your tits, groping and squeezing them making you whimper under her.  

You kissed her back and said, "It's what I wanted in the first place, please Els."  

She took this chance to push you back onto the bed and climb between the space of your legs, letting you hook them around her waist. She looked at you splayed out under her, tits bouncing from the push, hiding nothing from her. She slapped your tits, swatting one then the other, watching as you whined under her from the hit and groaned. Ellie leaned in to latch onto your nipples, sucking on them gently, rolling your nipples in your mouth with her tongue, and pulling on them with her teeth,  

You moaned at this, carding your hands through her hair pulling her closer to you, your legs tightening your grip on her waist, grinding your sensitive exposed pussy against her, wetting the front of her jeans as she humped your back. 

"What are you, a bunny or somethin' humping me like that? Fuckin' nasty slut." She groaned into your tits.  

You loved when she degraded you like this. Made you get so much wetter which you were sure she could feel too. 

She moved her hands down to your soaked entrance, rubbing around your juices before plunging her fingers into you again. You shrieked at this, arching your back against her as her middle and ring finger scissored in and out of you, letting you see her tattoo flex as she moved. You could feel your slick slip past your entrance dripping further down. 

She kissed down your stomach, slurping again at your clit, then your entrance then- 

Oh fuck. 

She kept moving further and further spreading your juices with her tongue and fingers down to your asshole. She pulled back, spitting on the entrance before continuing licking and tasting you, pushing your knees back as you moved trying to escape the sensations. 

"Mm, tastes so good all over, pretty girl." She hummed pulling back, before letting go and pulling back. She took off her flannel and jeans, leaving her in her black sports bra, silver chain and boxers. 

She thumbed at your clit watching you squirm again under her.  

"Wanna get on top pretty girl? Didn't you wanna fuck me? Make me feel good again when we get home?" She drawled, smiling at you under her. 

She gently slapped your cunt, prompting you to give her an answer when you sobbed at her "Yes, Ellie wanna fuck you please?" 

She stood up, pulling off her sports bra over her head, and slipping her soaked boxers, down her legs.  

She sighed lying down on the bed, watching as you clambered up on her body. You ran your hands down her body, watching her nipples stiffen from being exposed to the air, her abs rising and falling as she took in unsteady breaths, watching you take over.  

You hooked your leg over her hip, allowing you to straddle her. You took her chain under your finger tugging and pulling her up to meet her lips again. 

You felt powerful on top of her seeing her under you, waiting for what you were going to do.  

You shuffled upwards, deciding to plant yourself over her abs, sitting your wet pussy down onto it, moaning at the crevices and bumps as they brushed against your clit.  

"Fuck." You groaned out, your eyes fluttering shut as your head fell back and you could see the white of your ceiling.  

Ellie shuddered under you, feeling the wetness of you gather on her stomach, making the sloppiest mess she had ever seen from you. She loved watching you ride her like this. Something about seeing you take control of her like this, using her made her want to submit to your forever.  

She huffed out, "Please move down baby I can't take it." She really couldn't. She was soaked wet, exposed with no friction or anything to ease the heat building up between her legs.  

"Should've thought about that before you stole my underwear baby." 

"'m sorry, okay? I'll buy you a fuck ton of new pairs just please do something y/n 'm dying here." 

You looked at your girl under you, flushed and gasping, nails digging into your hips, and she clung on for dear life. 

You hummed before moving down and grinding against her pubic mound. Fuck, you were gonna get another noise complaint but fuck that because this felt too good to give up.  

Elle couldn't think or speak, feeling only white noise slip into her ears, as her eyes rolled into the back of her head, feeling you slip and slide against her pussy. She could feel the strands of slick from both of you, keeping each of you tethered to the other.  

She felt her soul leave her body as you kissed her, slipping your tongue in your mouth to silence the girl under you but that didn't work. So, you pulled away listening to her sob for a moment while you kept watching her moan out before slipping your pointer and middle finger into her mouth.  

"Gonna h-have to keep you -fuck- quiet somehow." You grinned at her, voice breaking from your moans. Ellie suckled on your fingers but ever the brat she was, she decided she wasn't going to take so easily. 

She slipped her hands behind you before sliding a finger inside of your asshole, making you lean back and almost fall off of the girl.  

You felt Ellie suckle harder on your fingers, keeping you somewhat grounded as you continued to bounce and slide on her clit. Soon you were both groaning out each other's names, creaming and cumming against each other.  

You watched Elle ride out her orgasm, nails making crescents on your hips which would last and bruise, letting you re-live this for days whenever you saw them. Her face was leaning back into the pillows, mouth hanging open as soft moans escaped it with her eyes squeezed shut. Her silver chain glinting in the soft light of your bedroom with each breathe she took. 

She rocked your hips back and forth pro-longing both your respective climaxes till you lifted off her, sitting on her thigh as you pressed your body against her, till you were close enough that she could feel your lashes against her face.  

She pried open her eyes, laughing at how close you were. 

"Can I help you? You're so fuckin’ close. Jesus. "  

You giggled, kissing her cheek. "Can you give me another?" 

Ellie raised her brows, at your question "Think so, what've you got in mi-" 

She was cut off as she felt you slide a finger into her.  

"Fuck me-oh my god!" She groaned as you picked a brutal pace to fuck into her, adding another digit, fingers hitting the spot that had been sensitive all night. She could feel a pressure building and thought about warning you about what was happening but couldn't get the words out.  

All she could do was take it and whimper and hold onto your hip and free hand.  

"Feeling good baby?" You murmured against her lip, echoing the words she had asked you earlier that evening when she had been tormenting you.  

She fucked herself back against your hands, groaning a series of "Yes-fuck- yes so good."  

You bent down to lick at her clit and moaned around her. "Can taste the both of us here Ellie, you taste so good with me like this." 

She felt herself clenching around your fingers at your words and the sensations, as a clear liquid came from her as you continued pumping into her, draining her of all that she had. Ellie had soaked, your fingers, bedsheets and herself as you had planned for her to.  

You pulled out of her gently, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, until she grabbed the back of your neck pulling you in for a proper kiss. 

You kissed her quickly before getting up and getting her a cloth to clean her with, before handing her an oversized shirt to sleep in. You repeated the process for yourself after handing her the glass of water she had procured for the both of you earlier. 

You helped her up to guide her to the sink to wash her face and brush her teeth and go to the bathroom. As you brushed together you thought about doing this with her forever, loving her, taking care of her, going out with her for the rest of your lives together. 

As you slid under the covers together, and pressed your foreheads against each other, you knew she had the same thought.  

"Love you, Ellie." You whispered to her squeezing her hand. 

She squeezed back before wrapping her arm around you, pulling you closer to her, as she whispered back, "Love you more, pretty girl." pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

[papiliotao]

・❥・IN CLASSROOM 143

♡ — Reader: GN

♡ — Characters: Aether, Albedo, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Xiao

♡ — Synopsis: what is it like sitting next to them in class?

♡ — Content: fluff, high school AU, modern AU

♡ — A/N: classes were just better when I sat next to silly people. That's probably where I got the inspiration for this from. Have fun reading!

AETHER is the living definition of overcommitment. He's quite popular among your peers, so it's only natural that people are queuing up to ask him to join their clubs. Unfortunately, he's a bit people pleaser, so he can never find the heart to turn them down. From music to volleyball, Aether is involved in almost every extracurricular that the school has to offer, and as his desk partner in history class, you begin to notice the toll it’s taking on him.

It shows in the way he's always late and gasping for air as he sits down beside you. It shows in the way he turns to you and tiredly waves at you each class, offering you a weak smile that makes your heart skip a beat. And it shows in the way his honeyed eyes droop as he fights the temptation of slumber, all while your elderly teacher's droning voice lulls him into a state of tranquility.

He's fighting a losing battle, and he knows it. Each time the boy gives in to his weariness and lays his head on his desk to inevitably drift into the realm of dreams, his expression softens. He looks so content. You can never muster the willpower to wake him up, so instead, you leave him be and diligently take notes to share with him once class ends. After all, even someone as busy as Aether needs to set aside some time to rest in their strenuous schedule. The dark circles under his eyes tell you all you need to know about the amount of sleep he gets.

But there's no way the frigid surface of the table he uses as a makeshift pillow is comfortable, so one day, on an impulsive whim, you offer up your shoulder as a headrest instead. Aether agrees gratefully, and from then on, the sweet boy leans against you as he rests. His warm breath sends tingles down your spine, and his soft hair tickles your skin, and although his proximity makes it harder for you to take notes, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

ALBEDO, the boy who sits next to you in chemistry, is studious yet eccentric. He’s known for achieving nearly perfect grades by utilizing his unrivalled intellect, and he’s always the first person his peers go to for help with their schoolwork despite the fact that he’s rather introverted. As a result of his reserved demeanour, he almost never offers his aid to others first, but you’re the exception. 

Whenever you look as though you’re struggling, Albedo won’t hesitate to assist you. He almost appears a little too excited to talk to you, giving advice anytime he sees an opportunity to. It's gotten to the point where even your classmates have picked up on his eagerness to speak to you, and they have started speculating that the bright boy is infatuated with you. You can't deny the fact that the thought causes your heart to flutter, but you try your best not to get your hopes up, just in case your peers are mistaken. Besides, Albedo is rather difficult to understand anyway, so it wouldn't come as a shock if it turned out that his intentions were simply being misinterpreted.

One example of said contradictory behaviour on Albedo's part has to do with his participation during lessons. Despite his stellar academic performance, he has a habit of zoning out whenever a topic doesn’t interest him. In those instances, you notice that he pulls out a sketchbook and flips to a page half-filled with doodles and begins to meticulously scrawl on the paper. Soon, snowy white is dyed shades of grey and black, undergoing a metamorphosis that transforms it into the finest of portraits. You’re always curious as to what Albedo is drawing, but you’re never able to catch a clear glimpse. Whenever you look his way, he hastily shuts the book, concealing its contents as if he is guilty of a crime.

Unbeknownst to you, the ocean-eyed boy beside you is doodling the one he is infatuated with: you. His feelings ebb into his sketchbook, and his art captures every dip and curve of your face, encapsulating all your radiance with immaculate precision. And yet, he never overlooks your imperfections either — with his pencil acting as a catalyst, he records them in great detail. Albedo is in love with every single aspect of you, even your flaws, which arguably garner more adoration from the boy than any of your other features because they make you distinct — the brightest star in a galaxy full of wonders. Perhaps one day, he will be able to show you his works, but for now, he is more than content with silently admiring you.

Peculiarity is a trait best embodied by KAEDEHARA KAZUHA, the boy who sits next to you in English class. On the surface, he seems normal enough — although one could argue that he is abnormally pretty with his snowy white hair and eyes the colour of autumnal maple leaves. However, he is also strange in other ways. Six months of conversing with Kazuha have led you to the conclusion that he is most definitely odd, but not necessarily in a bad way.

Unlike most of your peers, Kazuha often appears to have his head in the clouds, daydreaming in a world that he has made entirely his own. There are times where he stares out the window, sighing wistfully as he gazes at the vivid azure sky overhead. On other occasions, he writes poems in the worn notebook he always carries around, hardly minding the way you look over his shoulder to get a glimpse of what he's writing. Most puzzling of all, however, is his tendency to absentmindedly stare at you in the middle of class. He doesn’t even have the shame to look away when you glance back at him. He just maintains eye contact and smiles at you, causing you to avert your gaze first.

Despite the fact that Kazuha is rather odd, he is still a polite and compassionate person. Whenever you allow him to proofread your assignments, he compliments your work in embellished words that bloom with praise, and he offers advice in a way that feels warm and genuine. You feel at ease with him — unafraid of being judged. However, sometimes guilt gnaws at you when you ask for Kazuha's help because he's always the one assisting you. He has nothing to gain, but he continues assisting you out of the kindness of his own heart.

That's why when Kazuha asks you to read over some of his poetry for the first time, you agree without hesitation. A quick scan of the page Kazuha directs you to causes you to raise your eyebrows. It's a love poem that is cryptically addressed to ‘the one I adore’. You can feel the affection Kazuha harbors toward the person mentioned in the poem just by reading it. When you ask Kazuha who it's for, he simply chuckles and asks if you like his poetry, effectively dodging your question. You decide to let him off easy and give him a half-hearted answer, pretending that you aren’t jealous of the person he likes.

Over the remainder of the year, Kazuha continues showing you his poetry and requesting input from you. Each time you read his impeccably-crafted works, you feel your heart race. His poems are spun from the stuff of dreams — sweeter than the cotton candy clouds that hang in the sky outside the classroom window.

Sometimes you like to entertain the idea that they could be for you, but you always shut the notion down before it can grow into a fully-developed thought, too insecure to believe someone as handsome and thoughtful as Kazuha could ever hold such feelings for you. 

When it comes time for the final English class of the year, you swear that you’ve read almost every form of poem in existence from sonnets to haikus to odes. On that particular day, you notice something different about Kazuha. He seems more fidgety than usual, and he has entirely lost his ability to zone out, instead becoming hyperaware of his surroundings. The smallest movements you make cause him to whip his head around to steal a glance at you.

You discover the reason behind his atypical behaviour at the end of class when he hands you a simple white envelope. When you open it, you find pages upon pages of poetry, causing you to experience a sudden epiphany.

The one he loved was you all along.

Raiden Kunikuzushi — more commonly known as SCARAMOUCHE — is living proof that pretty privilege exists. At least, that’s what you believe.

He’s infuriating. No matter how abhorrent you find the way he treats his friends (who are honestly more akin to acquaintances), they never stand up to him. They simply allow Scaramouche to walk all over them. It's like he's put them in a trance with his breathtaking eyes, which are filled with starlight and tinted an indigo reminiscent of the awe-inspiring night sky.

But despite the fact that he is admired by many, his relationships are purely superficial. To his peers, he is nothing more than a sight for sore eyes, and that is what keeps the bitterness of envious sentiments from swallowing you whole. You’ll never be jealous of Scaramouche because his popularity stems solely from his looks. 

His situation evokes a feeling of pity within the depths of your soul. The notion of your contempt for the boy still remains ingrained in your mind, but you also can’t help but pity him.

Perhaps that is what pushes you to sit beside him in your physics class on the first day of school when you notice that he is all alone. You have your reservations, but the way Scaramouche is scowling makes you think he’ll explode out of sheer rage if you don't take action.

Things start off slowly. He doesn't speak to you at first. You simply see him glancing suspiciously at you in your peripheral vision, as if he believes you have ulterior motives. However, the awkward tension becomes too much for you far too quickly, so on a typical day of classes, you decide to take your chances and pass him a note in the middle of a lesson, asking him how his day was.

When Scaramouche first sees your note, he frowns. It almost appears as though he's in disbelief because someone has taken an interest in him rather than his looks. Nonetheless, he decides to entertain you and promptly responds to you, writing a reply underneath your message in impressively neat handwriting. This sparks a conversation. One instance of the two of you passing notes in class turns to two — and two to three until you and Scaramouche are discreetly conversing each class.

Your inconspicuous discussions with Scaramouche lead you to learn more about him as a person. Whereas before you thought he was just a shallow pretty boy, now you know that he’s both cunning and witty. He never fails to make you laugh with his sarcastic comments, and despite the fact that he seems rather mean-spirited at times, you discover that once he opens up, he is more than capable of caring for others. Case in point: on days where you're feeling down, he (attempts) to tell you jokes to make you feel better, and he gives you the candy that his mother packs for him, claiming that he "doesn't like sweets anyway."

If only other people could take the time to get to know the real him. Underneath the veil of entrancing vanity and mystery that surrounds him, Scaramouche is a surprisingly entertaining and contemplative person.

However, for now, it seems that Scaramouche is more than content with the relationship he has with you. He doesn't care for any of his two-faced "friends." The only one he needs is you.

Fate has rather unconventional methods of bringing people together. There are times where you believe it is sentient, cutting, weaving, and pulling on the delicate threads that bind humans together with its steady hands.

Fate must be alive and working its magical because there is no other plausible explanation for how things ended up this way. All that is to say, some otherworldly force must have noticed your desperation to get closer to your longtime crush, XIAO, and finally decided to take pity on you.

It's crazy to think that one minuscule decision can shape the course of your entire relationship with someone, but your own experiences are indicating to you that there is some merit to the claim. After all, your computer science teacher's spontaneous choice to seat you next to Xiao is what kindles the first sparks of your relationship with him.

It all starts with music. At first, Xiao doesn’t attempt to converse with you. He seems adamant on retaining his introverted ways. It's not that he doesn't want to talk to you; he's just inexperienced when it comes to socialization. So instead of making an effort to talk to you, he simply grabs a pair of earbuds and listens to his favourite songs whenever the teacher gives the class time to work.

This all changes when you muster the courage to ask him what he’s listening to. The way his eyes widen that fateful day, gazing at you with surprise evident in his pools of amber, is something you’ll never forget.

After all the silence on his end, you still want to talk to him? He is touched by your resolve, but he is also afraid of being too blunt, so instead of giving you an overly-verbose response, he asks you if you want to listen with him, offering you one of his earbuds. Xiao's heart jumps when you accept with an endearing smile. From then on, the two of you bond over music, and Xiao begins feeling comfortable enough to speak to you.

Gradually, years of distance and rigid formality vanish. Hushed conversations at the back of a sunlit classroom, shy waves from across cramped hallways, and accidental touches of his hands to yours replace the barriers that once separated the two of you. A once hopeless situation gives way to a radiant future as you finally begin getting closer to the boy you've pined over for as long as you can remember.

Sorry if there are mistakes. I feel like I'm making this worse each time I edit it :( Either way, thank you for reading and have a fantastic day/night!

[nerdofspades]

Bruce looked at the pop-up on the Batcomputer's screen.

"Explain," he growled, glancing down at Tim.

"Not much to explain," Tim answered, pulling up lines of code. "It showed up ten seconds ago."

"I'm starting a full diagnostic," Barbara said, voice filtering through the speakers. "So far, I'm not seeing anything."

"And yet..." Time trailed off glancing at the window again. It had a video queued up to play and the words "IMPORTANT: PLEASE WATCH. DO NOT DELETE" in large text at the top.

"There's a new folder labeled 'a gift for Batman,'" Tim said. "Not something any of us made."

"Clearly."

"I'm still not finding any viruses, corrupted files, or spyware," Oracle said. "The new folder was programmed to stay in a hidden partition for a few days after it was placed. Then, obviously, the pop-up to catch our attention."

"Folder also has a text file named 'security notes,'" Tim said. "Maybe our new hacker is friendly?"

"It's starting to look like it," Oracle agreed. "The video is clean. It should be safe to watch."

Bruce sighed. "Then let's see what they've got for us."

-

The video opened with a dark room. The background hidden in shadows, while the foreground was well lit, letting them clearly see the tired teen in the center of the frame as he took a heavy swig from his mug before putting it down.

"Pulling up facial recognition."

He ran a hand through his messy black hair and then down his face, pinching his nose and hiding the bags under his blues eyes for a moment before he dropped his hand and finally looked at the camera.

"I really don't want to do this," he said, "but you need it." He glanced longingly off screen in the direction of the mug he'd put down.

"First of all, I think I should apologize for hacking you. Or asking my friend to, technically. I just. You need to know about this and I didn't know of another way to get it to you that would be secure.

"I did at least make him promise to make a record of how he got in so you can patch that.

"That out of the way... to business? I'm Danny Fenton, for the last year or so I have also been the hero Phantom in Amity Park. My parents are Jack and Maddie Fenton. They are ectobiologists and ghost hunters. While extremely biased and not actually that good at catching ghosts, their tech is easily the best in the business."

"That's a positive match."

"Running a search on Phantom."

"I- fucking shit." Danny put his head in his hands again, running them back through his hair before leaning back, almost collapsing into the chair.

"This kid has... gotten into some shit."

"Everyone knows you're the League's strategist, Batman. And. I'm strong enough. I can handle my problems, that's not what I'm worried about.

"It's been about a year and I've already been mind controlled once." Danny laughed. A dry, broken, almost desperate laugh. "And that was just some lowlife that wanted to rob jewelry stores. I'm still not worried about. It's not why I'm sending you this. The magic relic he used is broken and gone now."

"Well that explains one of his problems."

"The others?"

"An attempted kidnapping and fairly standard property damage. I want to see some footage of those fights before passing judgement."

"Even more standard given he doesn't seem to have a mentor. Batman, he was fourteen."

"No. I. I've seen a version of the future. One where I go mad. Where I snap. And the Justice League can't stop me.

"I don't know if I- he kills everyone. I don't know who, if anyone, makes it out. But it's not anyone that could really do much. I... I saw ten years after he- I snapped. Earth was little more than rubble and ash. Only one city was left holding out and it was about to fall- was falling when I got there.

"I've managed to change the time line. What broke him didn't happen here. But. I can't guarantee nothing ever could.

"So. Yeah. Next best thing is making sure you're prepared. All my powers. All my weaknesses. Everything I know of that could possibly hurt me. Schematics and blue prints for anything you could need to fight me, track me, keep me out, keep me contained. All nice and giftwrapped for your convenience.

"Uh... that's everything. Why is it always so awkward to end a video? Hopefully we never see each other? I guess? Pretty sure us actually meeting is gonna be a bad sign.

"You know what. I'm gonna turn this thing off now before I say something stupid."

-

"Batman, who's 'Phantom'?" Superman asked, glancing up from the Watchtower computer he was working at. "Aren't we supposed to vote on new members?"

Batman grunted. "He's not a member, just someone who understands the need for contingencies."

"You know what, I'm not gonna even ask."

"Probably for the best."

[keerysfreckles]

ok, so I saw your Newsies smau and I was thinking...

Reader plays Eurydice on Hadestown and a while back she broke up with her toxic ex. But then she meets one of the drivers (u can choose which one) at a show one day and yk they fall in love. Inspired by the song All I've Ever Known from Hadestown.

This is hyper specific and u can ignore this, I'm just rambling here

all i've ever known — LN4

pairing: lando norris x bway!reader

warnings: slight smut, allusions to smut, not proofread

a/n: sorry not sorry but ive never listened to the hadestown soundtrack SO going off the vibes of the show and what i know of it from tiktok 🤞🤞

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

for the past three months oscar has been begging lando to go to a broadway show with him. every time the brit is asked, he argues that lily should go with oscar. which he denies, explaining lily's hate towards musicals.

yes, maybe oscar was trying to set up one of his closest friends with his teammate. what could be so bad about him trying to be a good wing man?

after asking non stop during the weekend, lando finally agreed to fly to new york with oscar.

on the plane, oscar tried his best to explain the musical to lando. lando however only got more confused as oscar kept talking, so he opted to look it up on google instead.

"why are you so insistent with me going with you anyway? there's 18 other drivers to pick from," lando asks as he and oscar walk through the streets of new york, on their way to the theater. oscar kept looking down at his phone at google maps, displaying the directions to the address.

"first off, you're the closest friend i have on the grid. and second, there's someone i want you to meet."

lando chuckles, "so this was just to set me up?" oscar simply nods. "does my love life seem that depressing to you?"

oscar doesn't answer as they arrive at the theater, already having a large line queued. the mclaren drivers wait in line, signing things and taking pictures here and there as the line continues moving.

both men are handed a playbill at the entrance, to which lando immediately flips through as oscar leads them to their seats.

oscar points out to lando his friend, y/n, in the small booklet. her black and white picture is at the top of the second page, along with a male, who lando could only guess was the other lead in the show.

"your friend is the lead?" lando asks in shock.

oscar laughs, "yeah, she's actually going to school for musical theater at nyu."

lando whistles and looks through the cast again, now noticing a certain celebrity who's playing the male lead.

"jordan fisher?"

oscar only laughs again at his over enthusiastic friend. "you know, for someone who kept saying no, you seem pretty excited to be here."

before lando could come up with a proper comeback, the lights started dimming in the theater, hushing the crowd.

oscar kept stealing glances towards lando throughout the whole show. he couldn't help but smile as his face lit up as y/n first stepped out on stage.

lando looked like a kid in a candy store. his cheeks flushed and eyes wide, with a smile adorning his features.

at intermission lando immediately started praising y/n towards oscar, telling him how she was made for the stage.

"why don't you tell her that?"

lando only furrowed his eyebrows in response.

"at the end of the show people wait by the stage door to hopefully meet the cast. y/n promised she'd meet us out there."

the two continued talking. oscar answering any questions lando had about the show so far.

the second act of the show went the same as the first, lando being in awe of y/n and oscar smiling at his friend because of his actions.

intentional or not, oscar could tell lando already thought highly of y/n. now the australian could only hope they'd get along once they met.

as soon as the lights dimmed on stage, the audience roared in applause and cheers.

oscar and lando cheered louder when y/n stepped forward, there was no surprise there.

now the duo was waiting outside the theater, their arms wrapped around themselves to try and keep them warm in the chilly new york wind.

"you alright? you seem kind of nervous," oscar states, noticing lando swaying more then usual. a nervous habit he's picked up on over the past year or so.

lando simply shrugs. he was not about to share with oscar how he might've just fallen in love with girl on stage. he never believed in love at first sight before, but now his mind has been changed.

the stage doors opened, revealing y/n and her costar jordan fisher. both were eager to meet the fans who waited, and signed pictures and other items, as well as take pictures with the fans and answer any questions they had.

as y/n was finishing signing a picture for a fan, oscar called her over.

"oscar!" y/n giggled as she jogged towards him and lando.

oscar hugged and congratulated her, lando doing the same.

"so you're the famous lando he keeps talking about," y/n smiles up at him, taking in his features for the first time.

lando laughed before looking at oscar, "what on earth have you told her about me?"

"nothing bad don't worry," oscar pats his shoulder, as y/n simply chuckles.

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

three weeks have passed since y/n and lando met. they were lucky enough to get each other's phone numbers before departing on the night they met. the two haven't stopped talking since.

lando told y/n he'd be back in new york with his close friend max.

y/n couldn't help but grow excited at the news, counting down the few days until lando would be back in the states.

to add to the surprise of lando showing up, he was currently waiting outside the stage door, just like last time when he was here.

he made sure to keep the secret of being in the audience tonight, knowing how happy it would make y/n once she saw him there.

just like every other night, y/n was talking with the fans, simply going down the line taking pictures and signing items.

it was when she turned, "lando!" she laughed, finally noticing the brit standing off to the side.

she ran towards him, jumping against him to tackle him in a hug. he held his arms out, prepared for impact as he spun her around once.

"i thought you were getting here tomorrow," y/n holds onto his biceps as he sets her down, his hands never leaving her waist.

"i convinced my friend to leave a day early. mainly 'cause you had a show tonight."

"lan, that is so sweet," the nickname fell right off her tongue. lando couldn't help but feel his cheeks warm as she said it.

"only issue is he's still getting here tomorrow," lando frowns slightly, "he was busy filming a video for quadrant."

y/n nods in understanding, then an idea hits her. "well if you don't have a hotel already, you could stay at my apartment?"

lando chooses to ignore the feeling in his chest as she asked, simply nodding.

"great! my cars just parked in the garage behind the theater," y/n boldly grabs a hold of his hand, not that he'd complain for one second about it.

"sorry it's not as fancy as your many mclarens," y/n laughs as the two get in the small car.

"it suits you," lando smiles, sending a shiver down y/n's spine.

the continue continue talking on the way to y/n's apartment. the conversation flowing from lando's hobbies, to y/n's least favorite food, and to what they like to do on their free time.

"it might be a bit messy," y/n states as she unlocks the door.

lando looks around after stepping inside. the walls of the living room are decorated just as he imagined, colorful yet collected. everything went together.

"are you hungry? or just tired?" y/n asks.

"i'm insanely jet lagged, but was worth it staying up to see you perform again," he smiled, watching as a blush made it ways to y/n's cheeks.

"are you okay with the couch?"

lando nods, watching the girl get two blankets and a pillow from somewhere in a room down the hallway. lando guessed it was from her own room.

y/n now noticed lando was still wearing jeans, knowing their not the most comfortable item to sleep in.

after finding a pair of extra large sweatpants and a larger shirt for lando, the two exchanged goodnight. y/n closed her door as she heard the netflix app loading on her living room tv.

what both y/n and lando weren't aware of, is how they couldn't get the other out of their heads.

lando thought about how close he and y/n have gotten in the past month. he only wanted to know more about her.

y/n was in the same boat in her room, as she kept tossing and turning, messing up her sheets more and more. of course she would admit she likes lando, just never to his face.

she loved when he was around, and only wished he was around whenever the two were apart.

five minutes pass as y/n's done contemplating about the ordeal. 'now or never' she tells herself while getting out of her bed. she takes a deep breath before opening her bedroom door.

"lan?"

lando was stood in front of her, equally as startled. she notices his hand raised slightly, she could only guess he was going to knock on her door.

lando's gaze flickers between y/n's eyes, before silently pulling her face towards his. her hands immediately fall to his waist while their lips collide.

he simply pushes forward, guiding them into her room as the kiss only grows more heated.

y/n moans into lando's mouth as his teeth graze her bottom lip. the two's lips stay connected as y/n's legs hit her bed.

their heavy panted breaths mix as y/n brings lando's shirt over his head. she can't help but stare at his toned body, blushing as he catches her in the act.

lando helps her lean back onto her bed, kissing down her exposed neck, his pants growing tighter at the feeling of her fingers gripping onto his curls.

"lan," y/n mumbles, "lando," she calls again.

he looks down at her, his pupils wide and breathing jagged. "yeah?"

"do you want this? like really want this?" y/n asks, not wanting to force anything on him.

lando quickly nods, "y/n i've never been more sure of anything."

he leans down to kiss her, this one being slower than before. a silent agreement between the two, both knowing how they needed this.

[midnightfictionlibrary]

You're the One - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

You’re the One - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

Content : best friends to lovers, angst, fluff

Word Count : 1.3k

Summary : Two Times Jamie Tartt realized you were the one, and the one time he did something about it. 

A/N : A stand alone fic while I work on the next chapter of the Jamie/Roy/Reader love triangle fic. This idea popped into my head after listening to You’re the One by the Black Keys. As always, please like and reblog if you enjoy! <333

1. After the Broken Engagement

The rain pattered softly against the windows, and Jamie sat contentedly on his couch, the blue glow from the television playing over that week’s best football highlights. It was an uneventful week it seemed, but he still insisted on catching up. Just as he’s about to switch the channel, he hears a knock at the door. 

Brows furrowed, he stands up and pulls his hoodie sleeves down over his hands. God knows his hands were always cold. When he opens the door, he’s greeted by you. Well, a soaking wet, sobbing, you. 

“Fuck, babe, what’s wrong?” He says, immediately concerned, his heart wrenching for you. He doesn’t care that you were soaking wet, he gathers you in his arms as the most heartbreaking cries leave your lips. He didn’t even care that he accidentally called you babe. 

“L-Leo…h-he-” you gasp, “in our bed.” You cry, wrenching the ring off of your left hand violently and dropping it on Jamie’s front porch. Suddenly, the puzzle pieces fall into place for Jamie, and he takes your face in his hands and forces you to look at him. 

“Listen t’me. You…” He pauses, trying to find the right words. You stare at him, comforted immensely by his presence already. His warmth radiates into your own body, making you feel safe. That was how Jamie made you feel, and he knew it, too. “You deserve better than that prick, yeah? Too fuckin’ pretty and smart and kind to be crying over a prick like that.” He says, pulling you in to hold you. And you let him. 

The feeling of you against his body, calming already from his presence made Jamie realize you were the one he adored. He didn’t need anybody else. Even if you were engaged to someone that wasn’t him, he was always going to be there for you. Just like he was now. And he didn’t think anything could change that. 

Later, he lets you sleep in his bed, promising to go with you to your flat the next day to grab your belongings while that prick Leo was at work. He’s about to leave when your slender hand reaches out to intertwine your fingers together. “Please stay.” You whisper, and Jamie’s heart skips a beat, lying next to you. You rest your head on his chest, still sniffling slightly. 

As he kisses the top of your head affectionately, he knows he’s done for. You had burrowed your way into his affections from the moment he met you, three years ago. 

2.After The First Match Using Total Football

Jamie was out with the team, the owners, and quite a few friends at Sam’s restaurant as a celebration for their victory that afternoon. But, he still hadn’t seen you. As the team’s social media manager, he knew you were probably editing posts and queuing them up for the next day, but he still wished you were there. 

Roy pretended not to notice how Jamie kept glancing around for you. 

Keeley pretended she had no idea where you were. 

In reality, you were just running a bit behind, but you wanted Jamie to be surprised when he realized you, his best friend, were wearing his number. He had mentioned to you that no one close ever came to his matches sporting his kit, and you had decided to change that. 

When you walk into Ola’s, you catch Sam’s eye and wave profusely, running up to hug him, giving him a few pecks on the cheek. “Sam!” You pause. “Oh my gosh, this place is amazing.” 

Before Sam can answer you, you feel a tap on the shoulder. You turn around, seeing a flustered and blushing Jamie. 

“Wh..what are ya wearin’?” He asks, seeming to choke on his words slightly, and you grin at him brightly, pleased at how surprised and touched he seemed. 

“Oh this? Just the number of my favorite Richmond player.” You say, nonchalantly, giggling at the way Jamie’s cheeks tinge pink for a moment. 

Jamie doesn’t respond for a moment, instead wrapping his arms around your waist and crushing you into a hug. “Thank you.” He whispers, and when he pulls back you smile tenderly at him, pushing a few strands of hair from his forehead.

“Nothing to it, Tartt. You’ll always be my favorite.” You wink, looping your arm through his. “Now, can a tired social media manager get a drink around here?” 

He chuckles, leading you to the bar, and while he watches you order, he can’t help but just stare at you. Roy pretends not to notice again, and Jamie is thankful. He thought it was more than obvious that he adored you, but it didn’t seem like you were picking up on that. He takes a sip of his beer, looking away from you when you turn your attention back to him. 

“I’m really proud of you, Jamie.” You say, leaning in to kiss his cheek. 

“Nah, you ain’t got nothin’ to praise me for. Just playin’ the game like always.” God, he thought if his face got any more heated he’d have to excuse himself for some air. You tsk, poking his side before moving to speak to Keeley and Rebecca. The number 9 on your back burned itself into Jamie’s mind, and he swore that day he fell even more in love. If that was possible. 

3.After Amsterdam

It was late, and you flipped a page of your book, putting your cat-themed bookmark in when you realized you’ve reached the end of the chapter. Setting the book down on your coffee table, you move to the kitchen to start preparing your favorite nighttime tea. Your orange cat, Gizmo, purrs loudly at your feet, and you stoop down to give him a few scratches behind his ears.

You’re just finishing preparing your tea, stirring your tiny teaspoon in your mug when you hear a series of frantic knocks at the door. You leave the spoon in your mug, taking a glance through the peephole before you open the door. 

“Jamie?” You ask, “Did you just get back from Amsterdam?” 

“I saw a windmill.” He says, breathlessly, like he had run to your flat. 

“What?” 

“I- sorry. S’not the point. Realized I had t’come and tell you that I fuckin’ adore ya, yeah? I can’t take it anymore. I’m losing me mind thinkin’ about ya all the time. ‘M in love with you.” 

You stand there, utterly speechless. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. Here he was, Jamie Tartt, your best friend, admitting that he thought about you all the time. 

Jamie steps into your flat, taking your hand. “Please say somethin’.” 

“I..I love you, too.” You whisper. 

“Yeah?” He asks, almost as if he can’t believe it. 

“Ever since you took care of me that night I threw my ring down on your front porch.” 

Jamie can’t take it anymore, he cradles your face and kisses you passionately. “Want” he says “to give you a ring of my own” through small sweet kisses to your lips. 

Your mug of tea sits forgotten as you pull Jamie close, stumbling clumsily into your bedroom. You both collapse on your bed, him on top of you. “You’re the one, Jamie.” You whisper, and he grins at you before capturing you in a kiss that has your head reeling. 

Gizmo meows lightly, curling up on the couch as it starts to rain, his owner relishing in a love with his other favorite human. 

The two of you stay in bed until late the next morning, unable to get enough of each other. 

[toomuchracket]

dancing like she way out (george daniel x reader smut)

shag the dj shag the dj shag the dj, or whatever the smiths said. basically - a night out takes a turn for the better when you hook up with the hot dj. won't lie, there's use of the d word in here. and choking, because we've all seen that man's hands. enjoy <3

all your friends are wasted, and you hate this club.

no, really - three of them are currently spewing their guts up in the toilets after going too hard on the tequila rose, while the rest flail wildly on the dancefloor in between queuing at the bar to buy yet another round of overpriced jagerbombs. meanwhile, you're doing your best to dodge the extremely persistent man you first swerved about an hour ago, some palm angels-clad twat with shit hair and an inability to take no for an answer, and also doing your best not to spill your vodka cranberry all over yourself in the process.

in short, you're having a shitter of a night.

at least the dj's fit, though. really fit. and, to be fair, he’s spinning some decent stuff. the one saving grace of the night, you'd say.

you watch him from the edge of the dancefloor, empty cup in hand. he's quite focused, more so than some of the wankers you've been dragged to see in this club in the past, only looking up to signal to the bar staff that he needs a refill and to check the vibe of the room. he has pretty eyes, you notice, sharp and dark and clear; eyes that could definitely get you to commit a multitude of sins, quite frankly.

and now? they're looking right at you.

looking isn't a strong enough word, actually. they drag slowly down your body - locking with your own, then travel to your pouty, brown-lined lips, and shamelessly over the curves of your body onto your legs - leaving a trail of thrill-induced goosebumps across your skin in their wake. suddenly, they flick back up to your face, and one closes in a wink. you smirk, and the dj does too.

interesting.

one of your more sober friends nudges you, handing you another vodka. you accept it without breaking eye contact with the dj, wrapping your lips around the straw and smiling with it between your teeth. he raises his eyebrows, still smirking, and you wink; your friend notices, and leans round so you can see her. “are you eye-fucking the dj?”

“maybe,” you reluctantly tear your eyes from him to look at her. “in my defence, he started eye-fucking me first.”

she laughs, tugging you onto the floor and motioning for you to dance. “i think we should keep him looking at you, then.”

“alright,” you down your drink and set down the cup. “let's dance.”

and so, you do, pulling out all the stops. your hair flows behind you as you swing your hips, body twisting and turning and stretching as you lose yourself under the lights and amidst the beat, and you laugh excitedly with your friend as she twirls you. the dancefloor is so empty that you can spin to your heart's content, but that doesn't bother you at all - it means there's less for the object of your efforts to be distracted by, more chance that his attention is on you.

it seems to be completely on you, actually; every time you catch a glimpse of him, his eyes are on you again, and your friend attests to that in your ear as she pulls you in for a hug. “he hasn't stopped looking at you, for even a second. that man wants you, babe.”

you angle your body towards the deck so you can see him. the club lighting is simultaneously sheering out his black shirt and throwing both his stubbled face and tattooed arms into focus - fuck, his arms. 

and he's still looking at you.

“i think you might be right,” you turn back to your friend so she can hear you, deliberately leaning forward and shaking your ass slightly in his direction. “and i want him too.”

she shoves you towards the deck. “go and get him, then.”

with a giggle, you set off, swinging your hips as you all but skip towards the extremely sexy man behind the music. unfortunately for you, some arsey man in too-tight chinos gets to the deck first; folding your arms, you stand behind him, miffed, and wait your turn to speak.

luckily, you only have to do that for a couple of seconds. the guy isn't particularly drunk, but he's annoying. “hey, bro,” he says to the dj, whose handsome face is set in an expression full of what can only be described as ennui. you assume he sees this kind of thing all the time. “can you play some, like, chainsmokers? that would be so sound of you.”

chainsmokers? christ.

clearly, your distaste is showing, because the dj's face slips into a tiny smirk as he looks at you out of the corner of his eye; it disappears, though, before he replies. “‘fraid not, mate…”

his fucking voice. dear god. who is this man, and where has he been all your life?

“...i don't take requests.”

you believe it. everything about the dj screams control, and with every passing second your want to submit to that control is growing. it's not want you have for him any more, but sheer fucking need.

the other guy shrugs and wanders off, and the attention is all on you again. leaning over the mixing board towards you, the dj smirks again. “you, however, can ask me for anything you like.”

fuck. keep it together, bitch.

“anything?” you smile, saccharine, carefully leaning on the side of the deck in such a way that it pushes your boobs up. “even cascada?”

he rolls his eyes. “and here i thought you had taste.”

“whatever made you think that?”

“you picked out that dress to wear tonight, yeah?”

christ. “yeah. you like it?”

he nods, taking a sip of his drink. “it's gorgeous on you. but i think most things would be.”

you blush, revelling in the compliment before shooting your shot. “present company included?”

“jesus,” he shakes his head, and for the briefest of moments you worry that you've lost him. but then he looks up, hunger in those fucking eyes of his, and smirks again. “is that what you want, angel? to go somewhere together and find out?”

the ease with which the pet name falls from his lips is staggering, so much so that you can merely nod. that's not good enough for him, though - “need you to talk to me, beautiful.”

“sorry, sorry,” you compose yourself (with great difficulty). “yes, that's what i want.”

“s'reciprocated,” he smiles, genuinely. “i’m george, by the way.”

you smile in response, and introduce yourself. george says your name, slowly, and you fear that your legs might give way. “pretty,” he replies. “i like how you feel on my tongue.”

the words practically shoot straight into the scrap of fabric you call panties, and your jaw drops. george giggles. “you're cute when you're flustered, angel.”

“shame. i don't tend to make a habit of that.”

“hmmm,”  he clicks his tongue. “i'll need to work on that, then.”

you smile, radiant. “promise?”

“promise,” george smiles. he checks his watch, and you try not to drool at the way his arms flex. or his hands - god, look at his hands! “s'almost closing time. meet me back here in half an hour?”

“looking forward to it,” you blow him a kiss, preening at the way he blushes. “see you in a bit, gorgeous.”

he winks again. you turn and walk back to your friends, who have gathered along the edge of the dancefloor to watch your exchange with the dj. they huddle around you like a rugby scrum when you near them, a cacophony of slurred voices asking what and where and who and when and how; you gesture for them to follow you to the smoking area, where - to much excitement - you relay the details to them in the breaks between nicotine hits, and hug them all goodnight before you have to go back inside, them to the cloakroom and you to the dj.

your wingwoman friend is the last one you bid farewell to - she links arms with you to walk back into the sweaty club, doing the pre-prepared spiel you give each other when you pull. “have fun, but don't be stupid. if it's his place you end up at, then send me your location. i'll phone you in the morning, alright?”

“yeah,” you kiss her cheek. “thanks for all your help.”

“no problem. stay safe, have the best time,” she grins. “and i want details at the pub quiz on tuesday.”

“noted,” you hug her again as you reach the place to part ways. “love you. goodnight.”

“get it, bitch!” she shouts after you; you turn to salute her and giggle, and then she's gone. with a deep breath and a shake of your hair, you dart past the people starting to head towards the cloakroom, butterflies starting to emerge again as you get closer to george.

he smiles when he sees you, eyes raking over your body once again. “you know,” he says, as you reach the deck. “you really are beautiful.”

“i'm already leaving with you, george, you can drop the flattery,” you roll your eyes, then beam at him. “thank you, though.”

“just stating facts,” george turns some sort of dial, and the music fades to silence. as the club staff usher everyone from the room, he sighs happily. “been waiting to do that since you came up to me earlier.”

“really?”

“yeah,” he unplugs his laptop from the deck, sliding it into a backpack. “you're very distracting, you know, looking so good and dancing like that.”

“well, i try,” you hold out a hand. “ready to go?”

george nods, stepping down beside you - you gawk at the the height of him, towering over you. “fuck me, you're tall.”

he laughs, taking your hand in his. again, the size difference is insane, and you find yourself momentarily nervous to get into bed with him; that soon passes in favour of excitement, though. “don't worry, i'll even out the height thing by getting on my knees soon enough.”

the speed with which you tug him toward the exit at that is almost comical. george only giggles and lets you drag him to the door - he stops when you’re out in the cold air, though. “hold on, angel, i need a cig.”

you nod, standing on the step beside the door while he moves down a few to light his cigarette in peace. his hands, so big, are surprisingly nimble as he pulls a fag from the packet and flicks the lighter on; again, it does something to your core, and you lean against the brick wall to keep yourself steady.

after a few (erotic) drags of the cig, george holds it out to you. wordlessly, you accept, holding eye contact as you take a drag and exhale it in his direction. george's eyes flick to your lips, then back to your own - suddenly, he's kissing you, a hand in your hair and one on the small of your back, your arms looped around his neck. it's not a polite kiss, by any means; george kisses like he’s trying to devour you in the best possible way, stealing all the air from your lungs and inhibitions from your brain, tongue and teeth working against your mouth to get you to give in to him.

like you need any convincing.

a trail of spit connects you as he breaks the sloppy kiss, forehead resting against yours as you both breathe deeply. “fuck, angel,” george sighs, kissing you quickly again. “your place or mine?”

“we can be at my flat in five minutes if we walk quickly.”

“shit. lead the way.”

***

your front door hasn't even fully closed behind you before george is pressing you up against it, grabbing handfuls of your ass and lifting you so he can kiss your lips and neck while he grinds into you. every time his hips meet yours, you feel your eyes roll back into your head and the need for him inside you growing. his teeth meet the skin of your collarbone, and you swear you see stars. “george.”

his head shoots up immediately. “no marks?”

“no, leave as many as you want. it's just,” you whimper as he sucks a bruise into your skin. “i really want you to take me to bed. please?”

he groans at that, peeling you off the wall as he turns. “where…?”

“second door on the left.”

no sooner than the words have left your lips, george is kicking your bedroom door open and all but throwing you onto your bed. hands shaking, you do your best to undo your heels and throw them into a corner as george rids himself of backpack and shirt; you mewl at the sight of him, muscles hardened in the moonlight, and sit up on your knees to clumsily undo his belt.

he shakes his head, moving your hands from him. “you first, angel. arms up, come on, let's get that pathetic excuse for a dress off you.”

“i thought you liked this dress?” you frown, even as you oblige and let him peel the dress up your body.

“i do, but - oh, fuck,” george moans as your almost-bare body is revealed to him. “it was doing an awful job of stopping me thinking about you like this.”

his gaze on you is almost predatory, so much so that it makes you sink back onto your knees in submission, legs slightly open and chest forward. “do i live up to your daydreams, sir? no, wait,” you squint, assessing george to see if you can figure him out. “do i live up to your daydreams, daddy?”

you've hit the nail on the head; george’s eyes close as he swears and undoes his belt, kicking his trousers and shoes off before climbing onto the bed, onto you. he pulls you slowly onto his lap, and rocks you back and forth even more slowly. “does this answer your question, baby?” he murmurs, the gravel in his voice liquifying your insides and sending them straight into your underwear. the friction against his hardness is incredible, and all you can do is whine as you look into those obsidian eyes - again, that's not good enough for george, who delivers a sharp smack to your ass. “words, angel. tell daddy what you think.”

“i - ooh,” you whimper, as george changes angle to one that manages to catch your clit with every grind. “i think i live up to them, yes, daddy. think you wanna fuck me, and - shit - i want that too.”

“my smart girl,” he kisses you again, another head-melter that has you moaning into his mouth. “what else do you want, hmmm? want me to go down on you?”

as tempting as having that mouth between your legs sounds… that isn’t what you want right now. “wake me up like that tomorrow, please,” you savour the way george whines into your neck at the thought. “but right now, i just need you to fill me up, daddy.”

“well, i did say you could ask me for anything you liked,” he grins against you, kissing you quickly before softly laying you down. “fuck, look at you, angel, so fucking beautiful. where have they been keeping you from me all this time?” 

your cheeks burn at the way he bites his lip, trailing his hands over your bare chest and all the way down to your panties. “i mean, seriously,” he hums. “i've never wanted to fuck someone more in my life.”

“so do it. please,” you open your legs, showing him the surely-visible wet patch on your silky underwear. “need you inside me, daddy.”

“alright, alright,” george huffs out a laugh, one of disbelief, as he trails a finger up your clothed slit. “jesus, you’re soaked already. can i take these off?”

“please.”

he smiles, dragging the material down your legs and his fingers through your wetness; evilly, he slides the same hand beneath his boxers to palm himself, groaning. when you protest, he laughs. “just making sure we're both ready, baby. speaking of… protection?”

you say nothing, and just reach across to grab your pill packet from the bedside table and wave it at him.

“noted,” he leans forward to kiss you, before moving back onto his knees to slide his boxers off. as the fabric drops, so does your jaw: you knew from the feeling of him under you that you weren't dealing with something compact, here, but george is fucking huge. like, slightly terror-inducing huge. that said, though, you begin to salivate at the sight of him - he notices this, and giggles. “like what you see?”

“yeah,” wide eyed, you look up at his face, your own breaking into an anticipated smile; tentatively, you reach out to touch his cock, both of you gasping in tandem when you wrap your hand (as best you can) around him, manicured thumb flicking over the pre-cum soaked tip. neither of you break eye contact as you pump him a few times, the sexual tension in the room too magnetic to do so, and when you speak it comes out in a whisper. “how do you want me?”

“how don’t i want you?” george smirks, tapping your wrist to make you let go of him. he shuffles forward, big hands meeting your chest and squeezing gently, and beams when you whine. “fucking love that sound. lie back for me, angel, wanna watch these tits while i make you feel good. that alright?”

“mhmm,” you do as asked, fanning your hair across the pillow and spreading your legs - george can't seem to decide where to look, eyes darting between your face and chest and glistening cunt, and it makes you feel incredible. “like this, daddy?”

he nods. “perfect,” his lips find yours again  as he settles above you, resting his weight on one hand while the other slides between your thighs again. two long fingers tentatively dip into your cunt, and george groans while you gasp at the fullness. christ, if this is how you react to his fingers, then what on earth will it be like when he's actually fucking you? “jesus, baby, you're so fucking tight,” he hisses, eyes heavy as he looks down into yours. “want me to get you off with my hand first, before you take my cock? i mean, you're wet enough that you should be alright, but… i want you to feel good. comfortable. s'all about you, angel.”

shit. you have a sneaking suspicion that this man might genuinely be the death of you. but at least you'll die happy, yeah?

smiling, slightly dazed, you shake your head. “just want you to fuck me, daddy. need it, needed your cock all night.”

“you're sure?” george caresses your cheek.

“i'm sure,” you nod, humming happily as you watch him pump himself and drag his length through your wetness. “put it in, please.”

“sweet girl,” he kisses you, deep and slow, and pushes into you, the same. “oh my god.”

you're speechless, breathless, completely fucking brainless - all you can think about is the utterly delicious way george is stretching you out. nobody you've ever fucked before has really made you relate to the metaphor “rearranging your guts”, but with him it's crystal clear; he's so gentle and you're so turned on that it isn't painful, but he's definitely ruined any other man for you already and he's - you look down to check - not even fully inside you yet.

you giggle, slightly delirious, at that realisation. george smiles at you, groaning as he bottoms out and stills inside you. “feeling good?”

“so fucking good,” you lean up to kiss him, whining against his lips at the slight change in angle. fuck, he’s deep. “fuck me, please.”

he smirks. “magic word?”

“fuck me, please,” you kiss him again, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip then pulling back and whispering. “daddy.”

“good girl,” george pulls your legs around his waist, slowly sliding out of you and back in; you both moan in harmony as he does. “jesus, you feel incredible.”

you preen, beaming up at him - the smile is knocked from your face as he speeds up, though, in favour of your jaw dropping in pleasure. “yeah, that's it. fucking me so good, don't stop, please.”

“not stopping until i get you off, angel, don't worry,” he shifts slightly again, his next thrust hitting a spot inside you that you didn't think existed; when he does, you whimper, the contact sending another gush to your core and shockwaves throughout your body. “oh, you liked that, didn't you, sweet girl? shall i do it again? yeah, i think i will.”

he does, ripping a cry from your throat in the process. your legs quiver around his waist, the repeated hits to the area sparking them into movement, and you clutch desperately at his forearm beside your head. “daddy…”

“what is it, angel?” george leans down to kiss you, still fucking you relentlessly. “tell me what you want.”

your brain is growing hazier by the second, dopamine and serotonin and god knows what else overpowering all your motor functions, but you still manage to oblige. “want - fuck - want you to choke me.”

“fuck,” george’s eyes roll back slightly. “you're sure?”

you nod, stomach contracting in ecstasy. “need it, need you.”

“you're so fucking cute,” he grins, incongruous with the way his big hand wraps around your neck and presses, just enough for you to sigh happily and clench around him. “think you really might be an angel, by the way,” he pants out, never letting the rhythm of his hips drop. “you feel like heaven. look like it, too. and trust me, later on,” he kisses your neck, dragging his tongue up so he can whisper in your ear. “i am going to get on my knees and worship you for hours.”

okay, it's settled - he's perfect. you can never fuck anyone else ever again. “please.”

“‘please’ what, sweet girl? please do that?” he coos, sucking another mark just under your jaw. “or please make you cum?”

“cum,” you choke out from under his hand, legs practically thrashing from how good you feel. “please, daddy.”

“gonna be a good girl and help me, then?” george looks you straight in the eye, his almost completely shut in pleasure. “touch yourself for me. show me what you're gonna do every time you think about this, about me.”

christ alive. you obey (you're not sure that you'd be unable to resist that voice even if you wanted to), grabbing one of your tits in one hand and sliding the other between your bodies to your clit. as soon as you touch the bundle of nerves, the shockwaves pulsing through your body increase tenfold; if not for george above you, grounding you, you reckon you'd have shot off the mattress by now. through a quivering jaw, you talk to him. “m'so close, so fucking close.”

“me too, angel,” george’s eyelids flutter as he talks. “don't fight it - cum for me, my good girl, cum on my fucking cock.”

your body does as it’s told, a final surge of pleasure flowing through your body so strongly that you actually black out for a second; your fuse is relit by george groaning, gravel and guttural, in your ear, imminent climax signalled by his hips falling out of rhythm for the first time so far and his hand slackening on your neck. “oh, fuck, i'm there. can i… inside?”

“yeah,” you breathe out. “fill me up, daddy.”

“shit!”

with a moan of your name, george buries himself to the hilt inside you one final time, thrusting shallow and kissing you fiercely as he paints your insides white. once he’s done, he carefully lies down on top of you and rests his head in the crook of your neck, still inside you as you both catch your breath. despite finishing last, he’s the first to speak, moving to hover over you and kiss you again. “i'm so glad you decided to go out tonight.”

“me too,” you giggle. “same again next week?”

“absolutely. i'll be the one waiting by the speakers.”

[senp1i]

GYM BRO’s? GYM HOES!

(SNSD Choi Sooyoung x Male reader) rewritten!! WC: 3440 + also if u previously read it then read after the keep reading, from then on ive added and changed the story

Sooyoung stumbled into the brightly lit 24-hour gym at stupid o'clock in the morning, unable to stay still in her apartment . With SNSD’s big summer/late-summer comeback announced, her schedule was absolutely shit lately between vocal training, choreography bootcamp hell, and a new diet that had her craving carbs 24/7. 

Call her crazy, but a good workout sounded way more appealing than yet another hour tossing and turning in bed. 

The location near their dorm was usually blissfully empty at ass o’clock in the morning too - perfect for looking like a disgusting post-workout mess without judgment. She swiped her membership card at the empty front desk, earbuds already queued up with a stupid EDM mix. 

Rounding the corner towards the cardio equipment though, Sooyoung came to an abrupt halt. 

Wait a damn minute...was that...a guy? 

Working out alone in the free weights corner? Well crap, so much for having the place to herself, she thought.

Squinting across the room, she vaguely recognized him - one of their fan-sites maybe? He seemed just as startled to no longer be alone, nearly dropping the dumbbell in his hand with a awkward fumble. 

“Oh shit! Sooyoung-ssi?” His eyes bugged wide, literally about to pop out, “Shit, sorry, I didn’t think anyone else would be here this late...” 

Sooyoung snorted, shifting her gym bag higher on one shoulder. “You and me both, dude.” An awkward silence passed of them just standing there staring. *sigh* no use being a bitch about it, she decided. Gym’s open 24/7 to members, even nosy fanboys. 

Tossing him a casual chin jerk goodbye, she headed towards the treadmills. 

“Well don’t let me mess up your sesh or anything,” she called over one shoulder, queueing up her go-to cardio playlist. Setting her phone on the ledge, Sooyoung hopped up on the belt and started jogging.

The familiar burn soon had her zoning out - eyes fixed on her reflection in the big wall of mirrors, volume cranked enough to drown out any other noise. 

Including the sound of fumbling weights behind her...as the same flustered fanboy now seemed incapable of  looking away from Sooyoung's sweaty reflection. His eyes tracked her bouncing boobs barely contained in the old Nike sports bra, and down to those leggings leaving nothing to imagination with each pounding step. 

((a/n: so for the sake of my sanity we’ll all pretend this is a treadmill and that the fila is a Nike, alright? Good.🫡))

Sooyoung noticed the attention after a few minutes, torn between rolling her eyes or biting back a smug grin. Fan service was part of the job after all - but she also knew damn well what she looked like working out in minimal fabrics. Didn’t mean she enjoyed feeling ogled like a piece of meat, but the ego boost was kinda nice. 

Nearly 45 minutes and 5 miles later however, tiredness sank in as Sooyoung began cooling down to a walk. 

Her leg muscles felt more like limp udon noodles at this point, chest heaving to gulp oxygen. Risking a glance behind her, she noted the fan seemed to be wrapping up his own workout now too - re-racking an impressive set of heavy dumbbells across the open floor space.

Sooyoung slid her feet to a stop on the treadmill, skin sticky with sweat. She bent down to stretch her quads and muscles briefly, back to the weight area. 

When she straightened up from touching her toes, the guy was much closer than expected - openly staring with those wide dark eyes.

"Feeling pretty bold over here aren't we?" Sooyoung arched an eyebrow, unflustered. His mouth snapped shut audibly, face and neck flushing darker.

"S-sorry noona!" he stammered, glancing away and raking a hand through his messy black hair. "I just uh...wanted to say nice workout? You really seem like you know what you're doing..." His awkward compliment trailed off into uncertainty, still avoiding direct eye contact.

Sooyoung couldn't help chuckling internally at just how shy this random fan was at interacting with her one-on-one, especially with so much exposed skin on display. She had to admit she didn't exactly mind the shy flattery. After over a decade pressure-cooking in the entertainment industry, it was actually sort of refreshing.

"I thought maintaining stamina is important for those long music show rehearsal hours," she replied easily, straightening up with a slight groan as her abdomen muscles protest. 

Noticing the guy's eyes follow the flex of her defined abs, she had to hide another smirk. Too easy.

"But clearly you know what you're doing too," Sooyoung continued with a glance at the impressive set of free weights he had been using earlier

"I don't usually see guys your age lifting that heavy without a spotter."

Pink still dusted his sharp cheekbones, but he met her gaze now without the prior dose of awkwardness at the indirect praise. 

Rubbing the back of his neck almost shyly, his lips quirked upwards.

"I try to hit the gym pretty consistently. Can't let you idol types have all the good bodies, you know." Y/N murmurs with a smirk, a smile.. somewhere in between

Was he...flirting back now? Sooyoung thought as she cocked her head, curiosity piqued by this boost of confidence in him, 

She noted that he really was very good looking, with feline eyes and a sharp jawline that complemented the defined muscles under his sweaty workout t-shirt. No wedding ring either she observed.

"Oh really now?" she challenged, arms crossing under her boobs subtly. Enjoying the way his dark, definitely interested gaze automatically tracked and traced her tits, she took a half step closer.

"Maybe you could...give me some tips then?" Batting her lashes innocently, Sooyoung gestured one manicured hand at the bench press station nearby. "My upper body strength is definitely my weakness in dance practice lately." She says, 

Y/N looks momentarily caught off guard by the bold invitation, his adams apple visibly bobbing in a hard swallow. But then he regains his confidence, lips quirking in a smirk again.

"It would be my pleasure to help demonstrate, Sooyoung-ssi” he says with his eyebrows raised and the smirk plastered on

Sooyoung watched with interest as the handsome fan confidently adjusted the bench press bar to a heavy weight for her petite frame. Clearly trying to impress her. Smirking slightly as he patted the black vinyl meaningfully in invitation, she walked closer. Intentionally lingering longer than necessary in his personal space before fluidly getting into position on her back.

The barely there bra did nothing to save her from the cold of the bench against her mostly bare skin. Goosebumps rising, Sooyoung tilted her chin up towards her impromptu trainer hovering near her.

"Well show me what you've got Mr. Gym Rat," she prompted cheekily. 

His appreciative gaze flicked down to where her nipples had peeked almost visibly through the sweat-damp bra barely covering them. 

Clearing his throat, Y/N carefully guided her hands into position holding the loaded barbell now held above only inches from her breast . 

Sooyoung noticed how his fingers lingered, thumbs sweeping the inside of her wrists.

"Right uh, form is pretty important obviously..." Y/N started out slightly unevenly. As he began explaining proper technique, one large hand pressed unnecessarily against her toned stomach - supposedly to demonstrate using her core muscles.

"Make sense?" he asked, unconsciously stroking along her defined abs with his thumb distractedly. 

"Mmhmm..." Sooyong managed, hoping she didn't sound as breathless to his ears as her own thudding pulse. She chalked it up to a normal physiological reaction - an undeniably hot guy was freely running his big hands all over her pretty much naked skin. It had been awhile since she got this type of casual intimacy with her crazy schedule and long-term even busier relationship. 

Noticing her physical response, Y/N's lips curved slyly. He leaned down close, caging her under the heavy bench bar. "Why don't we start with a set, see how you handle it?" The intentionally lowered voice raised involuntary goosebumps on her skin,

Swallowing, Sooyoung tried focusing on proper breathing and form as she guided the weight smoothly down. But with him hovering so intimately close, she became hyper aware of every inch of bare skin exposed to the gym air and his wandering gaze. 

Each brush of his fingers igniting sparks over her nerves. 

Biceps burning from exertion, she carefully guided the barbell back into its holders. Breath coming shorter, she couldn't resist looking sideways up at him through her lashes. 

Heart kicking faster seeing pure lust in his hooded eyes. She should tell him to back off, that she wasn't some groupie to take advantage of. Should remind him she had a whole career, a boyfriend even - a goddamn celebrity boyfriend none the less. But the words died on her lips as his palm smoothed down her stomach again.

"I think you need another set baby..." 

The risky nickname from his mouth sent a new flood of wetness between her clenched thighs. Recklessly she arched up into his arm, just enough to make her stiff nipples touch across his wrist. His low hum is satisfying to her ears.

Maybe she could blame it on the adrenaline crash later she thought, Or the fact that she hasn’t gotten laid properly in weeks thanks to her and Jung Kyung-ho’s overlapping schedules . 

But right now, feeling so desired and drowning in endorphins was exactly what Sooyoung needed after endless brutal days of smiling through every nonsense using her idol-persona as a shield

So here and now, Sooyoung threw caution fully out the window. Grabbing a fistful of her Y/N’s sweaty shirt, she yanked him down insistently, crushing their mouths together. He responded immediately, large hand pulling too-roughly in her messy ponytail to angle her head for better access. 

She bit and pulled at his lower lip sharply. "What's your name anyway?" Sooyoung asked against his mouth, just realising she had no clue who this fan who felt so good pinning her down was,

"Y/N..." he managed, kissing wetly down her throat. Hearing the breathless need filling his voice sent another slob of wetness straight between her legs. 

"Hmm Y/N-yah..." Testing his name on her tongue earned a responding groan. His hands slid boldly up from her shaking stomach to cover her neglected tits, kneading roughly through the thin cloth of her sports bra. White burst behind Sooyoung's shut eyelids, back arching off the vinyl bench. 

"Oh fuck..." she moaned out. The vulgarness is a stark contrast from her idol act coming out unfiltered. 

Y/N’s dark chuckle against her hammering pulse made her inner muscles clench on nothing. 

"That's it baby, tell me what you want," he murmured , thick fingers tweaking her hard nipples for emphasis.  

"Ahh!" Sooyoung whimpered as the sensation went straight to her clit, hands flying down to roughly shove down the band of her leggings and underwear before she peeled her sweaty bra over her head. Tossing it carelessly to show her gorgeous bare tits with stiffen nipples. His pulse racing double time seeing literal fantasy material come to life right in front of him. "Holy fucking shit..."  Y/N mutters,  staring open-jawed,

"Like what you see?" Sooyoung purred, noting his stunned expression. Inching closer she took his shaky hands, guiding them onto her exposed tits. Hot soft skin filled his palms and Y/N groaned at finally living out countless fever dreams.

"Fuck yes... You're even sexier without clothes noona."

He tested their size and weight gently. Watching with wide crazed eyes as she bit her kiss-swollen lower lip on a moan when he thumbed over her nipples teasingly, properly now that her bra is off.

"Been wanting to get my hands on these perfect tits for years..." he rasped before ducking down to capture one of the brown peaks in his mouth.

"Oh god!" Sooyoung's shocked cry as he lavished attention on her breasts with lips, tongue and a hint of teeth. He smirked around a mouthful of her boobs.

"Sensitive here huh?" Tweaking her spit-slick nipple sharply in emphasis.

"Yes! Fuck..." Grinding against his thigh slotted between hers searchingly, Sooyoung fisted a hand almost too-tight in his hair. Urging him to give equal attention to her other needy tit.

The power rush left Y/N lightheaded. Never in a million years did he imagine his long-time celebrity crush would be practically humping his leg whining for more. He needed to be inside her like five minutes ago.

With urgency he flipped Sooyoung, bending her over the bench. Groaning reverently at the sight of her flawless bare ass and soaked panties.

"Fuck you have no idea how many times I've jerked off imagining this perfect ass up in the air for me." He emphasised the filthy words with a sharp open-palmed spank to one plump asscheek. Her answering moan urged him on. Gripping her slim hips bruisingly tight, he dragged his still covered dick along her slit.

"Please Y/N-aah... Want to feel you inside..." Hearing Korea's darling beg so prettily to be fucked sent Y/N into overdrive. With shaking hands he shoved down his boxers, dick springing free and almost smacking her ass. Groaning at the first glide of his angry red dick through slick soaked folds.

"Tell me how bad you need this cock baby..."  He asks as he teases them both - rubbing his swollen purple head along  her pussy but refusing to enter. 

Sooyoung whined, circling her hips urgently. "Please, feel so empty... Fuck me oppa!"

That was all the permission he needed. Tightening his hold on her hips,, Y/N thrust forward - plunging into her  incredibly tight velvet heat in one relentless slide. Balls slapping harshly against her clit. 

"Holy shit!" They both choked out. Frozen for a second, from just pure bliss

Then Y/N was fucking into her hard and fast - years of suppressed longing fueling his brutal pace. The lewd slick sound of their smacking flesh filled the empty gym. Her sharp cries urged him deeper.

Draped over her arched back, he slid a hand down her shaky stomach. Through the neat patch of pubes to circle her clit in firm strokes.

"Don't stop, please...I'm so fucking close!" Sooyoung whined, sharply circling her hips with his still imperceptibly swelling dick nestled deep inside her. Y/N starts fingering her clit in fast strokes, wanting to push her over the edge,

"Be a good girl and cum on oppa's cock," he rasped directly into her ear. Licking along the line of her throat when she tossed her head back, mewling.

"Oh god, fuck yes I'm cumming!" Sooyoung wailed, vision white as she orgasms hard - cunt spamming erratically around him. Milking every last drop of cum from his buried dick as she shook through endless waves of dizzying twitches.

Y/N fucked her slowly through the intense aftershocks until her limbs went limp, slumping forward. Soft puffs of breath hitting the bench under her flushed cheek. Holy hell she looked completely fucked out like this - hair, a wild mess, his release leaking steadily from her well used pussy.

Unable to resist, he carefully pulled out his sensitive dick free with a wet sound and her whimper, making him groan again as even more juices dripped freely down her soppy cunt in globs now coating her thighs. Gripping her ass cheeks, he spread them eagerly - her slick puffy folds still shaking, twitching.

Ducking down without hesitation, Y/N licked broadly up the entire crease. Tasting the salty-bitterness of her orgasm mixed with his semen.

"Ohhh fuck..." Sooyoung jerked, overstimulated nerves clearly on fire. But he just hummed directly against her, the vibrations making her squirm as he straightened his tongue. Spearing deep into her pussy to taste everything,

He gripped her hips again to hold her trembling body still, continuing to spear his tongue relentlessly into Sooyoung's oversensitive canal "Oh god, oh fuck!" Sooyoung whimpered and gasped as the intense sensations crashed over her overloaded nerves. The lewd, slick sounds of his sucking filling the empty gym.

Just when her thighs started really shaking from the stimulation, he finally let up. Pulling back to admire his handiwork once more with a satisfied groan.

But he isnt done with his bias yet,, he pressed two thick fingers back inside her velvet heat. Smirking when she jerked and whined at that light penetration.

"Mmm , you'll take a little more for your fan ,right?" He purred slyly even as she shuddered through another weak orgasm.

Not giving her a chance to recover, he quickly lined himself back up. Nudging just barely inside once more.

Sooyoung blinked sluggishly up at him, lips parted and slick with spit, eyes filled with tears even. "Ohhh f-fuck I can't..." Sooyoung whined, still shaking through the aftershocks. But despite her pleas she eagerly pushed her ass back for more of Y/N's thrusting fingers.

"Mmm yes you will," he growled. "Gonna make you cum all night..."

The lewd sound of his fingers pumping her soaked pussy echoed around the empty gym. Her broken whimpers urging him on.

"Oppa wants that sloppy cunt nice and wet before you take this dick again."

Adding a third finger, he twisted them until she bucked sharply - abusing her g-spot mercilessly. "Oh shit! Oh shit don't stop..." Sooyoung babbled, rocking her hips desperately to get those thick fingers deeper.

Y/N chuckled darkly at how needy she was for it already. His free hand cracked down hard on one jiggling ass cheek, making her yelp.

"Fuck yourself on oppa's fingers just like that. Let me see you cum again."

Arching sharply, Sooyoung braced her hands properly - shamelessly riding his thrusting fingers now. The lewd sound of her soaked pussy sucking them in greedily echoed with her pitched cries.

Right on the edge, Y/N suddenly ripped his hands away - ignoring her scream. Gripping her hips tight enough to bruise, he rammed balls-deep into her still-spasming cunt. Bottoming out so deep she saw stars.

"OH FUCK yesyesyes!" Sooyoung babbled mindlessly.

Y/N set a brutal pace instantly - their slick bodies slapping together loudly. Obscene squelching noises coming from where their juices dripped down her trembling inner thighs.

"Yeah? Oppa's cock feels good pounding this tight pussy?" He rasped filthily against her ear. Her constant and almost musical 'ah-ah-ah's with every deep thrust said it all.

Flipping her easily onto her back not the nth time, Y/N hooked one slim leg over his shoulder - driving himself impossibly deeper. Loud smack of balls against her ass echoing.

Sooyoung's next orgasm crashed through her violently - back bowing off the bench as she wailed his name. Cunt spasming erratically, trying to milk his cock.

Not nearly done with her, Y/N manhandled her limp body into his lap , as he sat down on the gym’s vinyl flooring next - spearing up into her dripping hole once more. Sharp cries ringing out as he bounced her roughly on his dick by the hips.

"Yes yes fuck! Shit I can't..." Sooyoung babbled, still cum drunk and now full on crying. But her petite yet tall  body continued riding him eagerly. Tits jiggling wildly with the force of it.

Reaching around, Y/N's thick fingers found her throbbing clit again. Rubbing messy circles as she squeezed almost painfully a fourth time. Her rhythmic contractions pushed him closer to the edge too.

But he still wasn't done using her gorgeous body yet.

Pulling out abruptly mid-orgasm, he smirked at her wrecked wail. Manhandling her to knees, he fisted himself rapidly - aimed right at her sweat-slick back curved so beautifully before him.

"Look so fucking good on your knees noona... Now tell oppa what you need," he gritted out, squeezing the life out of his own dick,

Whining and grinding her ass back desperately, Sooyoung glanced over one shoulder. Eyes glazed and burned into his.

"P-please...want you to cum all over me oppa," she begged prettily, pink tongue swiping across her swollen bottom lip. "Mark me as yours..."

"Fuck!" Y/N roared, fist flying rapidly over his slick dick. Her nasty plea instantly triggered his release. He painted her back and ass cheeks in endless ropes of white hot semen - marking SNSD's lead dancer Sooyoung as claimed, way more claimed then her man could ever mark her.

Chests heaving, he eventually tugged her fucked-out body upright against him. She mewled weakly feeling their mixed cum and her juices now dripping freely out of her loose fucked out vagina and down her thighs and his.

"Let's get you cleaned up hm?"

Scooping her up easily, Y/N carried his pliant bias towards the locker room showers....... [A/N: lol pt2 coming out soon , i might finally surpass 5 if not 7k words, it'll be a personal milestone, took down the previous one cause i noticed typos and added bs, i didnt spellcheck it or even read through it prior to posting like an idiot, anyway req: @snsdyb]

[victorluvsalice]

As you can see, somewhat spooky -- I probably should have gone for something a little more dramatic around the eaves. XD But the fence bunting is good, and I like the decals I used to mark the pumpkin carving stations (yes, two -- Smiler brought theirs with them when they moved in because I figured having two was better for a three-person household for fulfilling traditions). A bit low-key, but it gets the point across!

Anyway, as it had finally stopped raining for ten seconds, I decided to send Alice on a feral run across the countryside while Victor worked on upgrading their shower and Smiler fixed their radio and the downstairs bathroom sink. And, as I was admiring her progress through Henford-on-Bagley’s New Old Henford, I spotted the communal garden spot -- with produce to grab! Yes, in addition to the Mysteriously Floating strawberries, the planters contained verdant mushrooms, green beans, and raspberries. And as Victor needed more fruits, veggies, and mushrooms to round out some of his planters, I had Alice stop there and grab some samples before heading back home.

Aaand it promptly began storming again. -.- Poor Alice’s umbrella (and arm) breaking as she dashed across the bridge back to their lot proved to be the final straw for me, and I invested some of their money into an important purchase -- Dr. June’s Weather Control Device! I set it out by the greenhouse and had Alice use it to clear the skies -- which, fortunately was successful. It did take a minute for the weather to transition from “constant thunderstorms” to “sunny afternoon,” though, so the trio hung out together in the kitchen and chatted a bit, allowing me to take a few self-indulgent pictures of the three of them being cute. XD But eventually it did clear up. . .

[slayagami]

wedding day with izuku, katsuki, & shoto !

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° m.list ! ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° mha m.list ! ┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° enjoy !

i. midoriya

ִֶ𓂃⊹ ִֶָ izuku 100% could not sleep the night before

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ would arrive to the venue with you extra early to help decorate and prepare

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his groomsmen were bakugo, todoroki, shinsou, and iida

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ best man was def todoroki

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he got ready with his groomsmen, ranting anxiously to ida and shinsou, hoping that the wedding today would go to plan and be everything you wished for

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ right before the ceremony, he stood tall and proud with his back towards you, hands fumbling as he waited for the reveal. you stood behind him, wedding dress shining under the natural sunlight and giving you an ethereal glow

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you patted his shoulder, giving him the 'ok' to turn around. nervously, he spun his body and locked eyes with yours, green orbs tracing your face that wore natural makeup, down to the beautiful dress you picked months prior after your engagement

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his eyes grew teary, hugging you tightly and crying into the crook of your neck. hands glided down your back, feeling the silky material, mumbling how gorgeous you looked and how lucky he was to be marrying you today

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your eyes watered, hugging your soon-to-be husband back and a hand to trace his fluffy locks. you kissed the side of his head, pulling him to look at you. your hand caressed his face, smiling stupidly in love

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ izuku wore a dark green tuxedo. it was almost black in normal lighting, but once the sun engulfed his figure, the tuxedo shone in a marvelous dark green, almost emerald color that brought out his features. his broach on his chest was a pink carnation, and his pin to his tie was silver.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he looked so handsome to you, your heart growing warm and in awe. your sweet boy, was finally going to be (officially) the love of your life. through thick and thin, hell and back, in sickness and in health, life and death. your last name was now going to be midoriya

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ not far off, the groomsmen and bridesmaids watched from a distance, taking pictures and videos, bottom lips puckered out from the cute scene

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you both read your vows in secret, saving you both the tears from your conjoined family and friends in the room. with the say from the marriage officiant, you both shared your kiss as people cheered and cried, clapping to celebrate

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your first dance was to 'make you feel my love' by adele, you both singing to each other like you were the only ones in the room, crying softly in the lyrics

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‘i could hold you for a million years, to make you feel my love’

k. bakugo

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ katsuki is the type to keep a calm face but be so fucking anxious on the inside

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ constantly checks himself out in the mirror to make sure nothing is out of place, black suit hugging his broad shoulders and small waist nicely

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his groomsmen consists of kirishima as his best man (obviously), kaminari, and sero. maybe midoriya, if it was later in the years and he actually came to terms with him, but i don’t think he would go out of his way and ask

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he promised he wouldn’t cry, not wanting to be embarrassed in front of quite literally everyone.. but as soon as your song queued the moment you walked in, wedding dress enveloping you in a warm hug with a bright smile on your face, his eyes immediately glossed over

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ of course, he’d try to blink them away and use this time that all eyes were on you to be rid of his water works.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his voice was shaky saying the ‘i do’s, but nobody else could tell besides you. i mean, he is your husband (finally)

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ kissing in front of the venue was the least of his worries, he could kiss you all day if he wanted, no matter who was looking. definitely held your waist tightly and pulled you to him, a passionate yet loving kiss being shared between the two of you

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your first dance was to ‘the only exception’ by paramore, one of the first intimate songs that played in the car at midnight after your date in high school, feeling a strong hold and connection to this song

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he held you close, swaying to the song with his face in your shoulder, humming softly along the words with you. tears slowly streamed from your face, while a huge and dorky smile was on his. though, he used your shoulder to cover it from his friends ad family, leaving it only for you to see

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you both had your fair share with love problems. you felt used by others and unappreciated, choosing that being alone was better than trying so hard at love when it never worked

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ and bakugo’s young childhood never gave him the correct sense of love, only deprivation of it. he swore he didnt need to be loved, that he was all he needed

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ until your second year at u.a. when you were paired for a class project, slowly falling into each other’s presence and being. until the trips to his house lasted long after the project, becoming familiar with his family

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you allowed yourself to try and be loved again, knowing full well that this would be katsuki’s first time, and might not know how he’d react in the long run. but loving him was too easy not to try

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he tried hard for you. never raising his voice, refusing to let you open any door, bringing you food when he cooked or leftovers he knew you loved. he’d walk you to school, and walk you home, 100% attentive.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ sure, some acts took longer than others, but you never pushed him to do those things. they were all his choice, his timing, when he was ready and wanted to do so

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your wedding cake was non-traditional, and you both opted for cake pop to pass around, putting one in each others mouth

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ ‘you are the only exception’

s. todoroki

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ another ‘calm face, malfunctioning brain’ type of guy

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ wore a plain white tuxedo, his undershirt a wine red. his flower combination on his chest being a red and white dahlia

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ his groomsmen were midoriya, kirishima, iida, bakugo, and kaminari

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ almost didn't invite his dad, though you persuaded him to let endeavor come anyways

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ as you walked into the venue, his eyes never left yours. walking down the aisle make him smile warmly, sporadic heart calming down. it felt to him like you two were the only ones on the planet

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he held yours hands at the front, repeating back whatever the minister had said, thumbs running across your knuckles to calm your nerves

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ a little.. a LOT embarrassed to kiss you in front of everyone, moving to stand in front of you and block the view (except from the bridesmaids and groomsmen)

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ cheeks were flushed pink as you shared your vows in private, tears flowing down on your end. he held your ands lovingly and kissed your temple, reading his to you with a wobble in his voice

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your first dance was to ‘merry-go-round of life’ from howl’s moving castle. a movie you both favorited. the same movie from your first date where you both laid in the same bed watching from your room

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ you two ball-room danced, smiling at each other like fools at the different music choice that held so much emotion and memories

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he refused to leave your side the whole night, holding your hands wherever you went and telling you (whispering) how much he loved you

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ he reminded you how gorgeous you looked, eyes never leaving your figure in your dress. he was in complete awe, jokingly asking you to wear it everyday from now on

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your wedding bands were luxury diamonds custom made, a pink diamonds heart in the center with his silver band matching and complimenting yours (the inside was engraved with your marriage date)

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ your wedding cake is a red velvet cake with white frosting, a cute mini-figure of the two of you at the top and faux flowers at the base

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ shoto dances with his mother in a mother-son dance

[intothegenshinworld]

Fate’s Destiny ~ Chapter 11 || Four people, one destiny

You somehow, not being able to explain it, had fallen into the Genshin world you know oh-so-well. You were no new player and had explored most of the nooks and crannies of the world. When you first had woken up in Windrise you wondered; it might be a dream, after all, you were behind your screen usually, and now- here? It made no sense, and the world was keen on keeping it that way.

Warnings: Spoilers for main story.

Word count: 2.7k+

Auteurs note: My health is worsening. This chapter has been prewritten and queued in advance because of it. I hope you can enjoy it

↺ PREVIOUS CHAPTER || ↻ NEXT CHAPTER || MASTERLIST

A resounding crash jolts you from your slumber. It’s not a sound you’d expect to hear in the middle of the night, nor is it something you can pass on to your imagination, and so it plunges your mind into a primal fight-or-flight.

Without a second thought, your body jumps up from the sleeping bag, ready to combat the suspecting intruder. When the moment passes, you realize there never was one. Silence fills the night once more until you hear Lumine call your name, gentle concern lingering in her voice. 

You blink your eyes to adjust to the darkness. A few meters ahead of camp, you see branches stacked in a pyramid formation, set ablaze to keep its company safe and warm. Around it, comfortably on the grass, sits Lumine. She faces camp, and although the shadows obscure her expression, her body is visibly relaxed.  

“Are you alright,” Lumine’s voice, a mere whisper, breaks the night's silence. “Did you have a nightmare?”

You look around the area. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. The world is quiet aside from the occasional winds brushing against the ruins and trees. Even the nocturnal animals and insects seemed absent in this moment.

As you remain unsure of what had awoken you, the person next to Lumine causes concern. “Who is that?”

The stranger is facing away from you and towards the fire. He has to turn his upper body to look at you. Once he does, you‘re able to make out his blonde hair and dark clothes. Half of his face remains hidden—an eyepatch, maybe? And the only thing that stands out is his cape full of shimmering stars. 

While an unsuspecting party member isn’t your favorite way of waking up, Lumine’s relaxed composure makes you feel safe. You move to sit upright more comfortably in the sleeping bag.

“I apologize if either of us stirred you.” Lumine turns her head to the stranger, gesturing at him. “We happened to run into each other and we decided to catch up.”

The stranger lightly nods his head in your direction, now turning around to properly face you. “My name is Dainsleif. We have met before.” 

Your first memories in Windrise appear vividly in your mind. The soft zephyr brushing against your cheeks, the crystal butterflies, Dainsleif.

Then, in Mondstadt, another muddled memory. You recall talking with him, but the topic of conversation is no longer clear to you. He appears to be more focused this time. His eyebrows furrow together and his lips are pulled in a thin line, leaving you to guess how he felt at that moment. 

Another memory breaks free. You remember the cape on his shoulders, and trying to dip your hands into the fabric, wanting to break the stars free. You recall how safe it made you feel when the world started to turn dark, unlike the night, and more like nothingness.

Dainsleif turns his head away from you. With his new position, you only see the back of his head and the black side of his cape. Your mind leaps from side to side, making sense out of nothing and confusing the things that once made sense. Up is down, down is up, under is right, up is wrong. 

You furrow your eyebrows. 

“Who?”

Lumine turns her head to the male next to her. She lifts her shoulders before they fall again. The night hides her face but you notice the change in her expression. She normally seems so neutral, calm, and put-together—but now her eyes seem to scream at you.

You hear the male, Dainsleif–why is that name so familiar—whisper something before Lumine replies in the same hushed manner. Then, the stranger stands up. Without a goodbye, the mysterious man walks away. The further he goes, the more he blends in with the darkness of the night. 

You look at Lumine.

Her voice is gentle as ever, “Try to get some more sleep,” but her eyes scream louder and louder. Something is telling you to run. “I’ll protect you throughout the night,” she says.

You move your eyes towards the darkness once more. 

What had awoken you again?

You decided to listen to Lumine. 

Peacefully, you let your world succumb to the same darkness that swallowed you whole so many times before. The distant crackling of the fire lulls you to sleep and casts a protective warmth over you, though, it might have been Lumine who made you feel this safe—even with the increasing darkness.

Sunlight cuts through the white clouds in the blue sky and paints the ground with warm hues. Yesterday, the start of your journey to Mondstadt started with your departure from Liyue’s main city. You had set out towards Guili Plains, but with your current pace, and the fact you’d been avoiding the main roads, it’d take a few more days before your arrival. 

Right now, you are making the final preparations for your second day on the roads. Up till now you hadn’t encountered anything noteworthy. Hilllichurl camps seemed sparse, there were little to none adventurers present in the wilderness, and the animals seemed more absent-minded—not bothering to run when Lumine had been hunting for dinner.

Perhaps it was a stroke of good luck after misfortune. Perhaps it was the calm before the storm.

You weren’t going to wait to find out which of the two it’d be.

“Good morning!” Paimon greets you with a warm smile, only to cross her arms right after. “Wait a minute, Paimon thinks you look tired. Did you get any sleep?” 

She accusingly points at you, which makes you laugh in the process. “Really? I slept like a rock. It’s as if I caught up to all those restless nights from before, I’m feeling better than ever.”

Paimon hums, not attempting to argue back. You sling your bag over your shoulders as you stand up. Without a mirror it’s hard to check your appearance, however, you don’t doubt that the little pixie began to see what you’ve been seeing the past few weeks. Even at this very moment when you stretch out your bare hands, you seem to fade away. 

You pull your cloak over your head, turning to look at the pixie. “Have you seen Lumine yet?” 

She makes a stressed sound. “She went out to check the surroundings, to make sure everything is safe for Paimon and you, but… she hasn’t returned yet.” 

The little pixie turns her head towards the treeline, whispering below her breath how it shouldn’t take much longer, no doubt a bit worried about Lumine’s delay.

“Oh, Paimon forgot to ask.” She turns her body back to you, “Did you end up reading the book that Paimon and Lumine bought for you in Liyue?”

The bag begins to feel heavier at the mention of the book. Your hand instinctively moves over, and when you graze over the fabric, you feel the item within. When you fish it out, a heavy book yells out the contents of the story through a title. 

‘The Divine Creator’s Demise & the End of Teyvat’

Paimon’s smile falls into an agonized frown, her eyes casted onto the cover. The picture appears to represent the Creator, you, with a star-hilted sword in the back. It gives you an unsettling feeling.

You are quick to force it back into the bag, safe and out of view. “I don’t think I’ve read it yet. It’s been quite hectic, even when it was just me and the gnosis in the inn.”

“Paimon understands. When you first asked for a book, Paimon and Lumine were surprised to only find such a dark one. They should make happier stories for The Creator, y’know!”

You try to recall the moment when you asked for a book. However, nothing comes to mind.

You get ready to defend your past actions but you are interrupted by a familiar voice calling out both your and Paimon’s name. From the treeline, Lumine appears with a stranger by her side. When the two stop in front of you, Paimon puts her arms on her hips. The pixie is quick to recognize the man, calling him by his name, to which he responds with a curt greeting. When Paimon doesn’t further react to it, you realize that they must be well acquainted. 

Your eyes inspect the stranger whom Paimon called ‘Dainsleif’. 

His outfit consists of a black jacket with blue details, a grey vest, and black pants. He seems to be wearing black armored gloves and boots, but you’re not too sure about that since the right side of his outfit was laced with a blue veiny pattern. And while his outfit already made him an easily recognizable figure, his cape seemed to catch all your attention. The stranger’s black cape had a beautiful starry, space-patterned interior that seemed to reflect the night sky, shimmering and dancing behind him. 

Something like that, you’re bound to remember. The way the small stars shimmer and fade, even with the daylight blinding them, has you mesmerized. After a small moment you look over at Lumine for guidance.

“This is Dainsleif,” when Lumine mentions his name, the male offers another nod in your direction. “He felt your aura. That’s how we encountered each other. He offered to join us while we head towards Mondstadt, but only if you’re okay with it.”

An uncanny sense of familiarity wafts over you. “Join us?” 

Paimon floats closer and clings to your arm. “Dainsleif might not seem approachable at first, but Paimon knows we can trust him. After all, he helped us with finding the Adepti.” she quickly adds to it, “Plus, he knows a looot of things. He might be helpful to you as well!”

You take another look at him. He appears a bit stiff, but not in a threatening way. He genuinely seems to have no idea what to say or do. An understandable thing, considering you were The Creator. “I’m pleased to finally make your acquaintance in this world.” 

“As am I,” you reply. You’re surprised at how easy the words fall out of your mouth. While you’re not thrilled to have a stranger join you on your journeys, you put your trust in Lumine and Paimon’s judgment. “So we’re all going to Mondstadt together?”

Lumine puts one of her hands on her hip while shifting her weight onto one foot. “With the help of Dainsleif, we could once again use the main roads. If you’re exposed to people who are unable to sense your aura we might land in a troubling situation, but considering how slow our current journey has been, I’m willing to take a chance.”

“Paimon thinks it’s a great idea. We can travel on the road during the day, and set camp further away!” The pixie exclaims her idea with pride. 

You think about the proposition. The gnosis concealed by your cloak is no longer a cause for worry. Ever since you set out towards Mondstadt, it stopped glowing. While its lack of power caused concern, you no longer needed to worry about someone seeing the light it usually radiated. 

Furthermore, on multiple occasions, your cloak had proven sufficient capability of hiding your face. With Dainsleif traveling alongside you, your group had grown big enough for everyone to feel confident with your current camouflage. Unless another aura-sensitive person showed up, you’d go unnoticed.

You can’t help the way your lips curl upwards with excitement. “Sounds like a plan.”

Paimon cheers, floating a little higher as she kicks her feet in the air. While both Lumine and Dainsleif remained neutral, you sensed something different from the latter. He kept looking around him as if he was busy with something else and absent from the conversation. 

You’ve only known him for a few minutes, so you’re unsure if this is another part of his ‘not approachable’ appearance. Thus, you decide to not comment on it. 

When his eyes land on yours, you notice the star-shaped pupil. 

It reminds you of Kaeya.

Paimon’s snores during her evening nap are enough to keep you distracted from your book. 

When you finally decide to stand up for a fresh breath of air outside of camp, you’re met with the sight of Dainsleif well on his way to start a fire. He sits on a fallen tree trunk, having found the perfect spot for everyone to sit once Lumine returns with dinner. 

While sitting, he throws another log onto the pyramid of already burning ones, carefully nurturing the fire until it crackles loudly and has enough fuel to last the entire night. 

He is clearly a step ahead of you and Paimon. The latter had fallen asleep once you finished setting camp with her, and then yourself, gazing in stupor at the new companion with a book in hand.

For a moment longer, you observe his actions. 

His cape flutters behind him onto the grass, the stars within fluttering with each movement he makes. For the first time, he averts his attention from the fire. You instinctively follow his gaze. 

Dainsleif’s blue eyes turn from the treelines, towards the open field with the makeshift camp, until they land on you. Eye to eye, you stand still in your place until you decide to give him a wave. He hesitates but ultimately sends an equally awkward wave back into your direction. 

While the interaction could’ve gone better, it’d be even more embarrassing if you were to turn back to camp, so you approach him.

“Can I sit next to you? Paimon fell asleep after we finished making camp and she snores too loud for me to read.” You lift the item in your hand as you approach him, the cover shining brightly; ‘The Divine Creator: world walker’.

"An interesting title. I did not expect that ‘The Creator’ would read stories about themselves, much less any praising ones." His tone remains the same but his words seem to silently tease you, acting as if he’d known you for a longer time. You smile, sitting yourself next to him at a comfortable distance. You’re close enough for it to seem friendly but far enough for it not to be awkward. 

"It's a study read. I can't sit idle while everyone is working hard to regain my memories. And who knows? I might look like a self-centered god but maybe the book will have answers," you respond.

His eyes stay focused on you. "What makes you confident that the contents are all factual and not made up?" 

When he sees you raise an eyebrow and open your mouth to defend yourself, he adds, "Here is another question. How can you be certain that you are, in fact, 'The Creator' without any memories to support it? Have you ever entertained the idea that ‘The Creator’, as a concept, never existed prior to your arrival?”

Despite the outlandish question, you find yourself trying to answer his questions. After all, your lack of memories have been raising doubts. A troubled sigh leaves your lips when you realize that they have from the moment you entered Mondstadt, up till this very moment. And while he was right on the fact that you’d never be able to confirm anything without your memories, it’d be absurd to doubt the many people who do have memories of you, right?

The fire in front of you dances as thin strands of smoke twirl around. Above the horizon, the sunset was slowly merging from bright colors into a solid dark blue. You’d lose the light to read fast, but you feel like you’ll get more answers from Dainsleif than anywhere else. And thus, you entertain his thoughts.

"If the creator didn't exist before my arrival, it's another thing I won't be able to confirm without my memories. Regardless of what is and what is not true, I have to continue forward—trying to find my memories as I do." You look at Dainsleif, resolve filling your mind as you grow more confident about your past choices. "I will go to Mondstadt, and I will find out the truth. Furthermore, I’ll accept that truth as it is, with or without me being ‘The Creator’."

Dainsleif's lips curl upward for a split second. The moment is so fleeting that you doubt it ever happened at all. You do notice how his shoulder relaxes. Dainsleif lets out a breath that feels like a burden he'd been carrying for a while. Then he turns to the fire once more, poking the stick in his hands against the charred ones. 

He speaks to you, "Then it'll be my pleasure to accompany you once more, so-called creator of ours."

If you liked this chapter and think I deserve a comment, please leave one behind! I appreciate it a lot and it'll make me more motivated to write in the future ♡

© intothegenshinworld. Do not copy, repost, translate or take heavy inspiration from my content. Thanks for reading.

[kydrogendragon]

Five times Dream failed at being a normal human around Hob and the one time Hob learned why (by Fall Out Boy)

Relationship: Dream/Hob Rating: Teen Words: 5641 Warnings: None Ao3 Link

For square A2 of the Dreamling Bingo. Masterlist can be found here.

1

Upon entering the cafe, Dream is met with two realizations. One, this place is, by far, the coziest place with reviews that promise excellent coffee in walking distance of his flat. The second, that Dream is never going to set foot in this building again due to the sheer beauty of the man behind the counter.

The man moves with well-worn grace, pulling shots of espresso and chatting with customers with ease. His longer chestnut hair is pulled up into a quintessential messy bun, a few strands stick out and frame his face from where they escaped confinement. Then, there is his smile, rich and wide, with lines and crows-feet at his eyes that give away how often he uses it. And when his honey eyes swipe across Dream, he can feel his heart stop in his chest.

His body moves on autopilot, queuing up in the ever-growing line as it would be socially unacceptable to leave as soon as one entered, after all. He has at least a handful of people in front of him. It gives him time to gradually coax his brain back into something functional rather than something that only revolves around rapidly growing fantasies of the man whose name he does not even know.

He watches, enraptured, as hands and arms, dusted with lovely dark hair, reaches into the case of pastries and plucks a delicate, golden-brown croissant from the shelf. There is strength in his build, yet tenderness in his touch. This does nothing but fuel images of how this man’s hands might feel upon his own skin instead. How he might wrap Dream tight in his arms, yet cradle his face with the delicacy of a freshly baked pastry.

“—can I get you?”

Dream blinks. He is standing in front of the counter and the man that now occupies every fantasy in his mind stares down at him with a friendly smile. There is a shadow of hair upon his jaw and chin and Dream wonders how it might feel brushed against the side of his face. He takes a breath. Dream was supposed to have more time to pull himself together. He swears there were more people ahead of him, when did they all leave?

He doesn’t even know what he wants. He has been spending far too long gazing at the man, who is even more enticing up close. The soft, golden lighting in the cafe reflects in the depths of his eyes and Dream feels himself falling into the pools of earth and warmth inside of them.

Then the man raises his brows in question and his smile falters. And Dream realizes he has yet to speak and this is where he is supposed to order something rather than gawk at the man like some infatuated teen.

“Black coffee,” he says.

Why the fuck did he say black coffee?

“Sure thing! What size for you?” The smile returns as his hand hovers over the stacks of paper cups of alternating sizes. Dream’s eyes are drawn to the movement like a moth to fire. Not an unfitting metaphor given how he feels he is close to burning up in the man’s presence.

“Medium.”

That is better than him saying large, at least.

“Perfect! I’ll get that right out for you. That’ll be two pounds even.” The man says, fingers lifting a cup off of the stack. His voice is, perhaps, even more charming than the rest of him. It sings, happiness in each note. And perhaps it is simply that the man is excellent at customer service, but Dream likes to believe that it is also just how the man is.

He blinks and fishes through his pockets for the cash to hand over to the man. He sets the coins in his outstretched palms and fails spectacularly at not cataloging how the pads of this man’s fingers feels against his palm.

“Name?”

“Pardon?”

“Name for the order? There’s a few black coffees so far,” the man says with another easy smile.

Again. Why did he order a black coffee? He hates black coffee.

“Dream,” he says and his heart flutters as the man smiles so wide his eyes crinkle.

“Dream,” his voice says, honey sweet. And now Dream knows how his name sounds on the man’s lips. “I like it. Well Dream, should be just a tick and it’ll be ready down at the end!”

Dream nods and slowly makes his way towards the back wall near the end of the counter and takes a breath for the first time since the encounter. His hands shake, even with their placement in the pockets of his trousers. He has, he thinks, not completely ruined that transaction. Not with the way the man smiled at him. He’d even…even said he liked Dream’s name. The only thing that would make it better is if he’d been cognizant enough to catch the man’s name.

Dream plays back the interaction in his mind when he’s dragged out of his thoughts by the sound of his name upon the man’s lips once more. He looks up and sees the man smile as he sets down his drink onto the counter before flitting back towards the nearly empty queue.

He smiles, grabs his drink and takes a sip.

And immediately spits it back into the cup. Why. Why did he order black coffee? Why couldn’t his brain panic and say literally any other drink?

Dream looks up and sees the man looking at him with concern in his eyes.

His blood runs cold as he stares back, wide eyed. Surely the man must hate him now. He’d wasted a perfectly good drink, insulted it even, and insulted him.

Dream rushes out, drink abandoned on the counter.

He can never come back here again.

~~***~~

2

It’s two weeks later before Dream dares to venture back to the White Horse Cafe again. Two weeks too soon, he thinks, as he steps through the doors. This time, for better or worse, there isn’t a line. There are a few patrons scattered in the mismatched, but charming seating. Most with either a book in hand from their own collection or freshly bought from the adjoining book store, or tapping away at laptops or tablets alike.

Dream takes a steady breath in before stepping up to the counter. The man’s back is to him at the moment, arms moving in gentle motions as he works on another’s drink. He takes this time to both mentally prepare himself to order something that’s not black coffee as well as to take in the sight of the man’s form. His clothes are dark this time around. A simple black tee is all that covers his upper body with sleeves loose over his biceps.

His breath hitches as he notices a grouping of small, black lines peaking out from both the collar of the man’s shirt as well as out of the sleeve of his left arm. The man is inked as well. It truly is as if he was plucked straight from Dream’s deepest fantasies. The universe is cruel.

Honey brown eyes meet his and part of Dream prays that he does not recognize him. But of course, he does.

“Hey, good to see you again! Decided to give us another shot?” the man calls to him with a smile. He places a lid on the cup he’d been working on and sets it on the counter before meeting Dream at the register.

“I—” He was unprepared for such a question. He’d prepared himself for what he would drink or what he may eat, yet somehow he hadn’t prepared himself for the man joking around with him. He’d thought he would have been viewed with bare minimum politeness, not…this. “No.”

No?

The man cocks his head. “No?”

“No! I mean—” Dream panics. Nothing good comes from him panicking and yet…“—Yes, just not with regular coffee.”

“Mm, that bad?” There is still a smile on his face. That is a good sign.

“Yes.”

Yes!?

“Ouch, brutal honestly. Refreshing, though. Most people just suffer through it if they don’t like it then tell me it was great. Doesn’t help me out much, though. What didn’t you like about it?” the man laughs. Dream’s eyes dart down away from the cheery gaze that’s aimed at him. Then he spots the mysterious nametag he’d missed the first time.

Hob.

The man’s name is Hob. It is a name he has not heard before, though he is not one to judge. Suddenly, he now has a name to the face that has featured in 65% of his waking thoughts and 90% of his dreaming ones. This is both a curse as well as a blessing.

“Hob,” he whispers. Which only draws the man’s attention to him. And then he panics, yet again. “Black coffee is an excellent choice to establish a baseline of quality for a business. It is hard to achieve a truly exceptional one.”

“And ours definitely didn’t meet your standards, I take it?”

“No.”

Why does he keep talking? It is not as if he is an expert in coffee. He comes more for the rush of sugar rather than caffeine. Now Hob is surely going to think he is some sort of coffee snob like his sister. Why does he do this to himself.

The man taps his fingers on the counter top in thought. “Well, any suggestions on how to improve it? Maybe a better coffee bean distributor or roastery? Or maybe you’ve some good tips on the preparation—”

“There is nothing you could do that would end in a cup of black coffee I would enjoy.” He should never speak again. While he wasn’t incorrect, it is for no fault of Hob’s nor any roastery or individual coffee bean. He is tempted to race out of the building right this instant, especially as the easy smile falls completely from Hob’s face. He has ruined this. He had come back, intending to fix things and he ruined it.

“Right,” Dream tries not to die on the spot at how the cheerful tone in Hob’s voice vanishes. “Well, anything that’s not coffee that I can offer you?”

Dream swallows against the lump in his throat. “A small vanilla latte.”

Hob nods. “Coming right up.”

Dream is never coming back here again.

~~***~~

3

Dream is back at the White Horse Cafe, though not by his own will this time. His sister insisted upon catching up—something he is not disinclined to—but she picked the location this time and chose here, due to it’s proximity to his own flat. Kind of her, in theory, though disastrous in truth. Dream could have, theoretically, asked that they meet elsewhere, but he knows his sister. Telute would not have dropped the subject as to why Dream didn’t want to meet there and then he’d be forced to explain the disaster that is his interactions with Hob. And there is no way that he is doing that. So he steps into the cafe and hopes that his sister is already there.

The cafe is empty of her presence and Dream can feel his shoulders tense. Slowly, he turns his eyes towards the counter and sighs out in relief at the lack of the handsome man. Instead, a woman with short curly hair stands in his place. Dream approaches the counter and manages to order his usual large (not small) caramel (not vanilla) latte from the woman he now knows as Peggy. The drink doesn’t take long and he grabs it from the counter once it’s ready and finds a seat, tucked back into the corner, away from the crowd and view of the register.

He waits, sipping at his drink as he stares at the screen of his phone, waiting for his sister’s arrival. Then, a few minutes later, her face appears beside a text.

Dream, so sry, work got craaazy! Raincheck? <3 — T

He sighs and rests his head against the top of his phone. He has risked yet another terrible incident (far too soon for Hob to forget Dream’s existence, at that) and for nothing.

Dream looks down at his bag and considers, given that his drink is still full and the place is currently Hob-less, that it would, perhaps, be safe to stay here for a time and work. That had been his initial plan when he’d first come here, after all. The atmosphere of a cafe, especially a quaint and quiet one such as this, is unbeatable for his productivity. Words fly from him with ease that he struggles to achieve in many other places. And, as he looks around, there is even an outlet beside this table. Such a perfect opportunity may never present itself again.

So, Dream retrieves his laptop and charger from his bag, plugs himself in, and opens his word document and the words fly.

He’s pulled forth from the world spawned to life with fingers and keyboard by the sound of a mug on his table and a shadow falling across his face. Dream looks up and freezes when he sees familiar chestnut hair and warm eyes.

Hob stands beside him, hands now resting in the back pockets of the denim he wears. His hair is set free, the longer locks falling in front of his face as he smiles. Saliva pools in his mouth (he’ll blame it on the smell of pastries later). Looking up at him at this angle was one he was wholly unprepared for. He has imagined such angles before, though in manners he is certain Hob would ban him from the premise for mentioning aloud. He hates that he knows this knowledge will feature heavily in his imaginings tonight.

"Sorry for interrupting,“ Hob says, nodding towards the newly made drink. ”Just wanted to say I was glad you gave us another shot. And to give you a refill, on the house, as a thanks. I know we're still new so if there's anything you think needs changing, let me know!"

Dream’s gaze finds it cannot move from the sight of Hob standing over him. The way the light shines behind him, casting a near halo around his head. He is bathed in the now late afternoon glow that shines in from the front windows. He is truly beautiful here. The fact that Hob works here is more than enough (if only Dream was capable of being normal then he would be a regular here), so there is very little he could imagine changing.

Though…

The thought of Hob changing, specifically how he would shed his shirt, tacky with sweat built up by working in the heat and steam of pastries and coffee, is one Dream has no problem imagining. How his hair would look splayed out on the dark sheets of Dream’s bed, how his stomach would flex under his hands. How Hob would beg for more as Dream slowly eases his jeans down further and further. Yes…the only things Dream wishes to change is—

“You.”

Fuck.

Hob’s jaw tenses and Dream can watch in real time as his face closes. This smile, this new smile, is one he has witnessed on many underworked retail workers. It is impersonal, disingenuous, and as Desire often describes, dead inside. And Dream has placed it there with his inability to be a functional human.

He is a disgrace.

Dream watches, frozen in place, as Hob simply nods and walks off without another word. If he had not ruined things before, he most certainly has now. No longer would there be a chance to fix things. No longer would he be welcome in these walls. Hob surely thinks Dream hates him. If only he knew…

He slowly turns back towards his laptop. He saves his document, turns it off, and packs his bag. He gives a look back to the offering Hob had given him. It is still warm in the ceramic mug, and wafts with scents of caramel and cinnamon and topped with a dollop of whipped cream. It looks heavenly. Dream’s stomach churns.

He slings his bag over his shoulder and leaves, vowing that this time, he will never return.

~~***~~

4

Dream is beginning to think the universe is out to spite him personally as he stands in line at the White Horse Cafe yet again.

This was, once again, not by his own choice. Rather, Lucienne had insisted upon grabbing a drink during their lunch break and claimed she knew of a lovely spot a few blocks down. By the time they turned on this street, Dream knew where she was taking them, but it was too late to suggest anything else. He spent the few sparse minutes he had left before the walked through the doors to prepare himself.

He determined—given that any other reaction would result in him needing to explain the issue to Lucienne which, like his sister, was unacceptable—that he would simply ignore Hob to the best of his abilities. It was hard, not following the man as he worked with efficiency behind the counter alongside Peggy, but he willed himself to focus on what Lucienne was saying to him instead.

He felt proud for catching 75% of what she said.

But now, they stand just two people away in the queue from the register and Hob has been primarily handling transactions thus far. This means Dream will have to speak with him. And order. And not mess things up yet again. All the while, not cluing Lucienne into his constant internal debate he’s had going since about two blocks down from here.

“—should expect to have a new shipment in by tomorrow. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind dropping by and signing a few copies on the shelves?” Dream blinks away from where his eyes were latched onto the pastry case and definitely not Hob’s backside.

“Mm.”

“You’ve been quieter than you usually are. Are you alright?”

Dream sighs and turns towards his friend. “I am fine, Lucienne. I am simply…tired.”

She gives him a soft smile as she looks up at the sprawling drink board. “Well, caffeine will do you some good, then. What are you getting? My treat as a congratulations for signing that contract.” As much as he does not wish for her to spend her money on him, Dream is glad that this means he will not need to order the drink himself.

“A large caramel latte.” He turns his gaze towards the floor. “Please,” he tacks on to the end.

It does not take them long to reach the front. Hob is there; he hears his voice directed toward Lucienne. Dream purposefully stands off to the side of her and clenches his teeth lest his mouth betray him for a fourth time in front of this man. It is a unique form of torture, forced to listen to the sound of Hob’s voice and knowing he is not allowed to see him. If Hob sees him, if Dream meets his eyes, then he will be forced to see the hatred that surely lies inside. And he cannot handle that. It is bad enough he is here in the cafe, thankfully he has Lucienne as a buffer, but the next time she asks if he wishes for a coffee, he will have to ensure this is not a repeated destination.

The order is complete and Hob directs them towards the counter as usual, though Lucienne steers them towards a table first and Dream’s heart sinks. He should have known they would stay here to drink. Part of him is tempted to ask Lucienne if she would prefer a table outside, though she would see right through him. He has never been one for outdoor dining in any form.

It doesn’t take too long before their drinks are ready. Dream stays seated as Lucienne stands and fetches them. He wants to look up, to see where Hob is, if he’s ignoring Dream’s presence as well, but he knows he shouldn’t. It would only torment them both.

And yet.

Dream looks up from the table to see Hob cheerfully taking orders as if nothing is wrong. And there isn’t, he supposes. There is only something wrong with him. Then Hob looks over. And their eyes meet. And Dream’s breath stops and Hob holds his gaze for seconds longer than normal, but he does not smile. Hob breaks contact first, looking down before turning away.

Dream feels sick. He should not have come. He should have insisted that they meet elsewhere and save Hob the trouble that is Dream’s existence. But all that is left is to get through their time here and then he will leave Hob alone in peace. As he deserves.

~~***~~

5

His sister insists he is an idiot.

This is not news to Dream. He is well aware of his faults and failures as a functioning human, but he tries. And, after listening to her hour lecture followed by constant quips at his expense for the rest of the night, Telute successfully convinces Dream that, at the least, he should go and apologize to Hob so the poor man does not think he is hated for no reason. So, after having sworn he would not go back to the White Horse for the fourth time, he finds himself inside the White Horse yet again.

There is a decent queue already, which surprises him for how late in the evening it is. With a sigh, he lines up, mentally rehearsing the apology he would give Hob. He will explain…well, maybe not why he has been as rude as he has to the man (as that would entail explaining how Hob’s charm and attractiveness has removed any shred of normalcy and logic from Dream’s mind), but he would explain how poor he is with social functions in general. And that, while he does not expect Hob to forgive him, he hopes Hob will understand.

Peggy, he notes, is here again as well as another employee. This place is growing. Or, perhaps, this employee has always been here and this is simply the first time Dream has seen her. It is not as if Dream is a regular, after all. As much as he had initially planned on being such.

The queue moves quickly. Hob handles the register while the other two handle the drinks and food. It is efficient and, much to Dream’s dismay, makes the line move faster than he wishes. Before he knows it, he is standing in front of Hob for the fifth time.

Hob gives him a weak smile—not a standard service smile, nor the bright ones he had first received from the man, but rather something close to pained or tired—and speaks. “What can I get you?”

To which Dream eloquently replies with, “I—your coffee is decent.”

Hob’s lips quiver as the weak smile he’d worn threatens to grow. "Going to attempt a black coffee again? We've changed our distributor since then and lots of people said they like the stuff better.”

"No. The black was disgusting.” Hob's smile falls once more and Dream winces. This is not going as he had planned.

"Right. No black. Your usual then?”

"I…yes…Yes, just the usual.” Dream digs for his card as Hob rings him up. The words he wants to say feel trapped behind his teeth, all mixed up and wrong. He clamps them down tight, afraid of what terrible concoction would be released if he dared speak. All that waiting and rehearsing, nothing but a waste. He cannot even apologize correctly. He should have never listened to his sister. He should have stayed far away from Hob and the White Horse. He does nothing but cause hurt.

When Hob hands him back his card, rather than a polite “thanks” his brain decides to say, “You are not disgusting,” and he proceeds to die inside.

Thankfully, Hob looks more confused instead of being offended further. “...thanks? I think. Um…your order should be ready at the end of the bar here shortly.”

So, Dream goes. He waits diligently for his order. He watches Hob smile and chat with the other customers in line and lets himself pretend that is him that Hob talks to. He watches, and catalogs, and when his drink is ready, he leaves with a final glance behind him at the White Horse.

And then is immediately greeted by the heavens opening up the moment he steps outside the door.

Thunder rolls in the dark clouds up above. Rain slams into the pavement and the chill in the air slices him to the bone. Had this been literally anywhere else, Dream would go back inside and wait the storm out. But he knows he cannot. He should not. So instead, he sits at one of the tables sheltered away from the rain by the canopy above him and sighs. At least his drink is warm.

~~***~~

+1

Hob wipes his hands off on a paper towel and tosses it into the trash. Sweat still gleams on his forehead and his legs ache from standing so long, but he’s glad to finally be off for the day. As much as he enjoys owning this place, it can get really fucking tiring.

He sighs as he exits the employee bathroom and nods towards Peggy and Jo who are currently manning the cafe. He’s grateful that Jo agreed to help part-time. Lately, they’ve been getting busier and busier and as much as Hob loves the extra business, it was getting to the point that he and Peggy couldn’t keep up. Eventually, he predicts, he’ll need to hire someone else full-time. Maybe a designated baker. He’d do it himself, but he loves chatting with the customers too much to give that up. Well, save a few. And save a very specific man who he’d unfortunately seen again today.

Dream.

Hob has no idea what he did to anger the man so much, but the contempt he’s got for Hob is plain to see. Christ, and that glare of his. Downright bone-chilling at times. And he doesn’t treat Peggy that way, either. He’d asked. When Hob had seen him in the line, he was tempted to swap out with Peggy for a bit just so he wouldn’t have to deal with whatever insult the man would spit back at him. But today wasn’t an insult…he didn’t think. He was, apparently, “not disgusting.” Which, maybe for Dream, is a compliment.

With a sigh, Hob steps out and is greeted by both a massive downpour of rain as well as the man that’s been haunting his working life for the past four months. There Dream sits, back turned to the cafe, with his hands curled around his coffee like a life-preserver of warmth in this chilly weather. He’s shaking, even. Christ, the man ordered almost an hour ago. Has he really been here the whole time? Why the hell didn’t he come inside?

He moves before his brain can think and sits himself in the chair across from Dream. He folds his hands atop the table and stares at him. Clearly Dream didn’t hear the door open over the thunder and the rain as his eyes are wide as they stare back. Fuck, he looks cold. There’s barely a hint of red in his face. Was being even in the same building as Hob so terrible?

"Did I do something to you?“ he asks, brows furrowed. ”You keep coming back so clearly it's not the place or the coffee that you hate, it's just me, so…" Hob bites his lower lip and shakes his head as he trails off. He doubts the man would even give him an answer. Probably just huff and ignore him like he had last time he was in.

Instead, Dream flounders, opening and shutting his mouth like a fish out of water. It’s so far from the stiff, almost regal air he always carried with him before that it takes Hob aback. Maybe the man’s brain was going from the chill.

He sighs as his face falls, hiding behind the drink in his hands. Hob has to strain to hear the quiet words over the sound of rain, but he does manage to catch, “It…is not you. I am…bad. With people.“ Hob blinks. “I am…sorry. For the—for everything.”

Suddenly, each past interaction flashes through Hob’s mind with haunting clarity as the missing piece of the puzzle slots into place. Christ, it’s obvious now. The man was clearly just shite at interacting with people. And knowing Hob and his overly personal manner of service, he’d probably made it ten times worse on accident. And then proceeded to worry over it, thinking it was something more personal than it was.

"Fuck,“ he says, his head collapsing into his hands. ”I'm sorry. I just…I've been trying to figure out what it was I did so I wouldn't annoy you in the future. Got so wound up in myself I didn't even think…and now I'm accosting you while you're just trying to enjoy your coffee. Christ, I'm sorry. I'll leave—"

"No!" Hob blinks in surprise. "I mean…I…" Hob raises a brow, but waits, trying to give time for Dream to speak. He gives the man a smile, hoping maybe it’ll ease any fears. Dream takes a breath before speaking again. "I would. Enjoy your company. If—if I have not made you hate me."

Hob chuckles and lets himself relax. "Not at all. Why don't we start over, huh?“ He holds out his hand and smiles. ”Nice to meet you. I'm Robert Gadling. Friends call me Hob."

Dream stares at his outreached hand, but Hob waits and is rewarded by Dream reaching out to shake it in return. “My name is Morpheus Endless. My friends call me Dream.”

“Nice to meet you, Dream.”

“It is nice to meet you as well, Hob.”

“What do you say we go back inside where it’s warm, yeah?”

Dream smiles—actually smiles—and then stands. “I would like that.”

~~***~~

+2

A year later

“Here you go, dove,” Hob says, setting his boyfriend’s favorite mug—black with rainbow speckles like stars—beside his computer, next to the half-eaten pain au chocolate. He’s since perfected the recipe after Dream had, lovingly, critiqued that the croissant suffered from not raising as much as others due to it’s fillings. Now, it’s equally as fluffy (and buttery) and filled with perfectly melted chocolate. They’re his favorites and he’s been told a few times since that they’re the best ones in the neighborhood by other customers. He may or may not have added the croissant and caramel latte to the menu as a “Dream Special” as well, in Dream’s honor. Dream pretends he hates it, but Hob has learned to read his expressions by now.

“Thank you,” Dream says, leaning up for a kiss which Hob indulges him in. It’s rather strange to think that over a year ago, Hob thought Dream had hated him, though he’s since learned that it wasn’t simply Dream’s anxiety with strangers that caused him to be as brusque as he was. No, Hob learned the truth behind their early interactions.

Apparently, and much to Hob’s chagrin, Dream had been too busy drooling over Hob to form any sort of polite response. It was a fact he lorded over his poor boyfriend for a good few weeks after, but he feels he earned it. After all, Dream made him question their interactions for days after each one. He’d earned a bit of retribution.

Now, it’s just a thought that makes him smile every time he catches Dream’s intense gaze on him as he works. And if he wears a bit tighter shirts on warm days, or makes sure to flex his muscles when he knows Dream’s watching, well, it doesn’t hurt anyone, right? And if he enjoys knowing that his boyfriend used to jack off to the idea of kneeling before Hob when he’d brought over that free refill all those months ago because he learned what Hob looked like from that angle, well…okay. Hob’s just a man. He might tease him about that a bit more than Dream really deserves, but it’s incredibly flattering, okay? Can you really blame him?

“How’s the next book going?” Hob asks, peering down (and maybe purposefully pressing his chest against Dream’s ear) at the laptop. Dream’s finger’s twitch above the keys. He hears his lover takes a deep breath and Hob can’t help but smile.

“It…is going well. I am nearly finished with the first round of edits.”

“That’s incredible, love. So proud of you.” Dream hums and leans against Hob. His eyes flutter close and Hob wonders how he manged to get so lucky as to keep this ridiculous creature.

“Does this mean,” Dream says, tilting his head up to peer into Hob’s eyes. “That I have earned a reward?”

Hob smirks. “What kind of reward were you thinking?”

Dream’s eyes narrow in that predatory fashion that gets Hob’s blood racing. “Perhaps…dinner. At the Italian place we like. And then…dessert at home?”

“Mmm, sure you don’t want dessert first?” Hob teases. He watches as Dream’s eyes darken and he thinks to himself that it’s a bloody good thing that he owns the place and can cart Dream away into the storage closet with him because he’s not sure if he’ll make it through his shift.

“Perhaps we can be indulgent and have dessert twice?” He feels Dream’s hand reach up the back of his thigh and squeezes the globe of his arse. Christ, he’s definitely going to need that storage closet.

“For you love? Anything.”

[gomzwrites]

Its 7am atm but my brain won’t shut up about this idea I have

Just thinking about their reactions to reader struggling with clothes - too tight or too loose

Not proofread, apologies for the errors

Tags: xgn!reader, suggestive tones(18+ mdni), I suppose this is also like pervy!cod members in some sense xD, mentioned of injury, possessive, musk kink(?), markings, tattoo

John Price

Everyone was given a new pair of military gears and outfits today, you had placed and wrote down the size you wanted previously

And yet still somehow they messed it up and your pants came in smaller than your regular size

You decided to try it on anyways because you can’t do much

That was a mistake

You pulled the pants, trying and skipping around as it gets caught around your ass, you gave another few more try before ultimately giving up, realizing that you might tore the fabric in the process

And so you push it back down, only to realize it wont budge

Great

You lay down on the floor, hands splayed on the floor as you let out a loud defeated sigh

“You alright there?” Price came by as he heard your voice, halting as he sees you on the floor

“I give up” you say as you craned your neck to look at him and pointed your pants

“Cant fit and cant remove it” you said before frowning and gestured your pants

He laughs slightly before kneeling before you

“Let me help”

He said as he gives those pants a tug, and it doesnt budge

He grumbles slightly as he lower down the zipper slightly, thank god you had a black tight pants on(like those swimmer type idk the type wheeze but just know you’re not in undies)

He tries again but it didnt move, so he held your knees up slightly, “close your legs” he said before shifting slightly

With a harder grip, he yanks the pants and this time it finally moved, but you also moved along side with it due to his strength, slapping his knee-thigh area with your ass

You blush slightly as you propped yourself up with your elbow, but Price didn’t say anything as he gives another tug

He continues doing that and each time your skin would come in contact with him, making a small slap sound every time, you can’t help but felt like you’re in quite a suggestive situation, and the grunts and curses he lets out only made things worse

Bit by bit he managed to pull it out until your knees, where you wiggle the rest of it out without much struggle

There were a few red marks on your thighs by the time the pants was removed, he traced one of it with his thumb and whispered

“Does it hurt?”

It took you a second to register his question before you shake your head, he gives a nod as his fingers lingered for awhile, before clearing his throat as he leaves, you missed the warmth of his fingers

“I’ll get you a new pair” “okay”

You slapped your cheeks after he left to hopefully set your mind straight, get a grip, he’s your captain ffs! you thought to yourself

Little did you know, Price was fighting his own struggles as he watch your thighs jiggle with every tug, and your skin was so soft and the way you stared up at him with those eyes of yours made him go crazy inside

He knows he shouldn’t be having these thoughts, but man oh man

How would it feel like having them littered with bite marks and hickies? How would it feel like if he were to use those squishy thigh to slide his hard-

He prayed you didn’t catch on his thoughts when he stood up, an bulge forming in his pants

Kyle Gaz Garrick

You queued up at a clothing shop, excited to try on one of those compression shirt that you’ve been wanting to get since you seen them online, and it just so happened that this specific black one is on sale

But you know how it is with items that are on sale, they often come in sizes that are either too big or too small

In your case, too small

You tried it on regardless, wedging it through your head with a few grunts

Eventually you got it on, and you looked good, the shirt clearly hugging onto your figure and showing off your features

But you can barely breathe

“Sweetheart ye done?” Your boyfriend Kyle asked as he knocks your door gently

You adjusted yourself better and held your breath as you open the door and grin

His eyes widen as he takes in your form, hands already on you as he praises and smirk back at you

“Holy damn- look at you, my sexy thing~”

He gave you a lil turn until he realized your breath were strained, and you were using your neck muscles more, not to mention each breath you took was shorter and more frequent

He instantly pulled the shirt around your chest a little, then frowning as he stared back at you with nothing but concerns in his eyes

“Hey its too tight isnt it?” He whispered softly as he rest his warm hands on your waist

“Yeah but, I look good though”

“Nuh uh, that doesn’t matter if you can’t breathe baby”

“But its on sale!”

“We can go other outlet to check it”

“Thats so much trouble though”

“Its not I promise, lets get these out okay?”

He gave a kiss on your head as he slowly raised em up, until it was around your chest

“Jesus…” he mutters in a whisper as he takes a look at you through the mirror, the shirt did looked hella good on you, but seeing your skin exposed like this? Mmm that’s a better view

You watched as he slowly kneel down and trace his lips around your hips, you squirmed slightly as you nudge his head

“K-kyle, we cant-“

“Shh”

He shushed before kissing on your skin, nibbling it as he left them everywhere, then giving a hard suck just above your V line all of the sudden as you let out a choked sob

He lets go and lick his lips as he looks up at you with a devilish grin

“I’ll wait outside, yeah?”

He whispered when he stood up and left the changing room, you contemplated if you seriously needed that compression shirt as you look at the mark he left you, god does he knows just how to rile you up

Simon Ghost Riley

You hissed out with a suppressed groan as you lay against the couch with a bandage over your abdomen, without painkillers the dull aching pain was getting to you

You had a stab wound at the very last moment during the mission and Ghost had to settled it hastily with the med kit, bringing you to a safe house nearby

You didnt even realize you had goosebumps all over your arm as you shiver slightly, your shirt was torn in the process and some of it were used as a makeshift tourniquet to cut off the blood supply, now only having a pillow covering your chest

“Here”

You heard a gruff voice behind you as something was tossed over your head, you quickly picked it up and realize it was one of his spare t shirt

You complied and wore it, realizing it was HUGE, the hem of the shirt extended until your thighs and the sleeves were covering until your forearm

You let out a hum of amusement as you whispered back a small “thanks” as you slide back to the couch

It smelled like him, and its warm and rather cozy, and that gave you a some comfort

You closed your eyes as you pulled up the shirt slightly so that the neckline was covering your nose, inhaling it and breathing slowly until eventually you dozed off

It will take a few hours before help can arrive anyways

Ghost had been watching from the side, and seeing how his clothe draped over your form has definitely awaken something in him

He slowly, and quietly kneel down beside you, careful not to stir you awake as he observes and look at you closely

God, he’d never realize how good you looked in something that was his

He wonders how you would look like with nothing but his big t shirt

It felt like he was marking you in some ways, showing off(albeit theres no one else) to everyone that you’re his(even though you’re not……yet)

What really made him clenched his jaw was how you were inhaling his smell, did you liked his scent that much? Mmm if only…

If only he could take you and cover you in his musk, rubbing it off on yours, letting everyone knows just who claimed you

John Soap MacTavish

You were training with him today to improve your hand-to-hand combat skills

One thing about Soap is that he will never go easy on you

So he would flip you, get you into a headlock, knocked you over with every chance he get

“Come on, yer need to faster rookie”

You huff and glare back at him as you take your stance, muscles already aching as you tug your pants

You regretted wearing this one

For some reason, you couldn’t find any regular pants you wear and so you dug out this old pants, but it was much bigger and it was falling every few seconds

You would’ve worn a belt, you should’ve worn a belt but you were rushing and didn’t thought about it

As you get distracted, Soap lunged on you as you barely avoided his fist, but he was fast as he gave a kick on your feet, tumbling you down for probably the 20th time on this session as you yelped

He grin and lets out a victorious laugh as he looked down on you, then stops as he notice just a small part of your undies revealing, along with a tattoo that was around your back, oh

You were on the ground, with your face towards the floor and ass towards him as you groan, panting out a few breaths as you try to lift yourself up slowly

“Giving up already?” He tuts as he comes closer and squat down, taking a better look at your backside with half-lidded eyes

He never knew you had tattoo, and it’s one of those tramp stamp nonetheless, which was really hot in his opinion. You had a small symmetrical wings with some thorns beside it as a design

But what really caught his attention was the hem of your undies, black, nothing crazy but still, it clearly distracts him enough that he didnt realize you were watching him stare at you

“Enjoying the view, Sarge?”

You wiggle your ass as he snapped out of his trance and cleared his throat, looking away with a blush.

“Ah-sorry, didnt mean to stare”

“You can stare”

He looked back at you with a frown as you flash him a grin, arching your back slightly as you wiggle your ass again

“Yer gonna be the death of me” he said with a laugh as he slaps your ass slightly, making you yelp as you giggled and tries to sit up, only to be yanked by your leg as he spins you around

Your legs were now beside his waist as he pulls you close, grinding on you as you blush

“Lets get on with a few private lessons…yeah?”

a/n: im updating Gaz's color with pink instead of yellow bcuz my friend mentioned it was hard to see if someone uses light mode tumblr :]

[captain-hawks]

JUST ONE LOOK

♡ — keigo takami x f!reader

Your mysterious shopping bag of lingerie can only go unmentioned and unworn for so long before Keigo’s nosiness wins out. Naturally, he takes matters into his own hands…and finds out a thing or two about himself along the way.

18+ ONLY

wc — 2.5k

prompt — oral fixation, lingerie, praise

additional content —  established relationship, smut, masturbation, panty kink, light voyeurism, allusion to unprotected p in v + creampie, cum eating, needy/horny keigo

╰┈➤ kinktober masterlist

Keigo shifts from where he’s seated uncomfortably on the couch for what might be the hundredth time in the past ten minutes. Thousandth, even.

He’s fairly certain that he’s on the verge of losing his mind—if the continuous tremor of anticipation rippling through his feathers is anything to go by. He’s accidentally sent no less than eight of them zipping across the room today without warning, much to the chagrin of your cat. 

So maybe he’s just a little on edge.

Two weeks ago, you cheerfully walked through the front door of your shared apartment, kicking off your shoes as you attempted to maneuver your way through the entry hall with a large assortment of shopping bags clutched in your hands. Keigo had kissed you on the forehead and swiftly took the cumbersome bags from you, ushering you off to where takeout and a movie were already queued up in the living room waiting for your arrival. 

He’d preened a bit as you twirled back around, stealing a kiss from his lips before bounding off toward the smell of food. Meanwhile, Keigo nearly dropped the bags himself moments later when he tried to get them all through your bedroom door at the same time, one of them ultimately falling to the floor in the process.

After stowing the rest of them away in the corner, he turned around for the lone fallen soldier—a small, nondescript black bag with matching tissue paper. But as he went to pick it up to add it to your pile that you’d inevitably sift through tomorrow morning, he froze in place, eyes catching sight of a flash of bright red lace peeking out from the wrappings. Like a beacon. 

While he knew better than to pry—he’d learned his lesson after he was feeling particularly nosey one Christmas Eve—he couldn’t help the wolfish grin that spread across his face as he tucked the bag away with the rest. No matter the article of clothing, Keigo had a thing for seeing you in red. 

A very, very big thing.

A “sorry for popping a boner in the middle of the restaurant, but your red lipstick is distracting me” thing.

A “sorry, I know we just got to the gala, but you’re in a little red dress, and I think I might come in my pants before they start bringing the hors d’oeuvres out if we don’t go fuck in the bathroom” kind of thing.

And it’s not that you didn’t already have any red lingerie, because you certainly did. Keigo had ruined and ripped more of them than he could count. But the thought that you’d discreetly brought something new home to surprise him? Well, that had a bolt of arousal shooting straight to his groin, cock jumping excitedly in his sweatpants without an ounce of shame. 

But it’s been fifteen and a half days now, not that he’s counting. 

Fifteen and half days of waiting for you to reveal your little surprise to him, his dick now sore from constantly being half hard with anticipation every second that he’s around you.

Valentine’s Day, your birthday, his birthday, your anniversary—it’s not close enough to any significant date that he can think of that perhaps you’d be waiting for. So the fact that you might just come strutting into the bedroom after a shower suddenly wearing them any old night of the week? 

Keigo knows he can be a little dramatic sometimes. 

(Really, he’s well aware.)

(He thinks it makes him a bit more charming and endearing—or at least that’s what you’ve told him.)

And maybe he has a tendency to over exaggerate his needs a bit, like when he texts you in the middle of the work day and says he’s going to die if he can’t come steal you for a quickie on your lunch break. 

(Not that you mind one bit.)

But he’s definitely not exaggerating when he decides in the bathroom that he’s completely and totally lost it past the point of no return now, because his goddamn dick is too hard to even take a piss. He’s been toying with the idea of just outright telling you he saw them, offering you pleading eyes and a little flutter of his wings as he coyly asks when you’re going to wear them for him. 

…but then if you did have a surprise planned, he’ll feel terrible for spoiling it. 

So maybe he’ll just go take a peek.

For science.

To tide himself over.

(You know how needy he is, and he’s taking it upon himself to make the unilateral decision that you’d understand. You’d take pity on him and his aching dick.)

He carefully makes his way into the bedroom, quiet as a mouse—even though he’s fully aware you won’t be home from work for another three hours. The lingerie is surprisingly easy to find, shiny black bag primly folded over and tucked into the back corner of your sock drawer. 

Just a look.

One look, and he can go be an impatient, horny weirdo jerking off to the thought of you wearing them once he has a mental image of the full spread.

But—

Keigo quirks a brow as he takes the single piece of lingerie out of the bag, a feather darting out from his left wing to prod at the material. The red thong hanging from his pointer finger has a lacy waistband, a silky satin pouch of material in the front, and a thin string in the back, which connects to the waistband with a small, delicately-placed bow.

Something about them looks…different than your other panties, the rest of the dainty little thongs tucked away in the drawer above your socks that he’s intimately familiar with. Eyes darting back to the bag, he spies a piece of paper lying curled up at the bottom. It’s just the receipt, and he’s not sure what exactly compels him to do it, but all of his questions are immediately answered when his eyes begin to scan the thin, white sheet. 

Written in bold, capital letters in the middle of the paper, itemizing the purchase, are the words: MEN’S THONG.

Oh.

And suddenly the way the front of the material is a bit larger than he’s used to seeing…makes sense.

Keigo quietly tucks the panties back into the bag, putting it back where he found it before closing the drawer and walking out of your bedroom. He spends approximately twenty-six minutes sitting on the couch, watching a cooking show without absorbing a single bit of what’s being said. Another eleven minutes are spent rearranging the order of your plants sitting along one of the windowsills and agonizing over whether or not the painting hanging above the fireplace is straight. 

He accidentally feeds the cat twice.

Just shy of forty-five minutes have passed when Keigo finally stalks back into the bedroom and digs the thong out of the drawer, hastily tossing the bag aside. His clothes end up in a similar state, carelessly discarded on the floor a moment later. 

He can offer little explanation as to why he ends up in bed, wings relaxed as he leans back against the cushioned headboard, gaze trained on his lower half. Already hard as a rock, Keigo’s thick cock barely fits in the panties despite the fact that they’re made for men, his engorged balls taking up most of the space inside. Flushed head poking out from the waistband, he’s transfixed by the way the precum dripping from his slit leaves a dark, wet stain on the satin. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realizes the color of the panties is a near perfect match for his wings.

While he’s not sure what your plan was here, Keigo thinks you’ve probably let this purchase sit as you contemplate the right time to find the way to say, “Hey babe, would you mind wearing a thong for me?”

And in theory, Keigo’s not quite sure how he may have initially responded, in all honesty. 

In theory.

In practice, the moment he realized what he was holding in his hands, he was overcome with the uncontrollable desire to know what it would feel like to stroke his cock through the satin. To fuck his fist till he’s spurting hot cum all over the panties. To feel your pretty little pussy squeezing down on him when he ruts into you while he’s wearing them, lacy waistband straining tightly against his hips.

“Oh fuck,” Keigo moans, roughly running a hand over his hair as he begins to palm himself through the panties.

You bought these for him.

He’s so fucking hard, his dick is going to explode.

More precum leaks out of him, leaving behind a slippery, damp surface for the satin to slide up and down his cock as he begins to rock his hips upward into his closed fist. Eyes falling shut, he bites his lip and groans, forcing himself to take it slow and savor the tremors of pleasure simmering inside of him. There’s a small part of him that wonders how he’s going to wash the inevitable mess out of the thong when he’s finished without you noticing, but that’s a problem for future Keigo who can think straight once his balls aren’t floating with an overabundance of cum. 

—

On a normal day, Keigo knows you’re home before your key even turns in the lock.

But today, you make it all the way into the slightly ajar doorway to your bedroom, and even then, he doesn’t notice your presence. 

The sight before you takes your breath away—Japan’s number two hero, wings twitching and toes curling, moaning and panting and outright fucking whimpering as he jerks off while wearing a bright red thong. Not a single scenario that you imagined while buying the panties can even hold a candle to this.

Completely mesmerized by the way his thighs tremble with the effort to maintain a semblance of control, you can’t help but stand there and quietly observe for a few moments. You know what it feels like to be beneath him, atop him, beside him when he gets like this—desperate and aching and a little bit feral. But watching him from afar like this carves out a new place inside of you, a new pocket of hunger you hadn’t even realized existed until this moment. 

“Baby,” Keigo finally breathes out as he realizes he’s not alone, golden eyes trained on you as he continues to stroke himself through the thong. 

He exhales a shaky breath when you settle down beside him on the bed, head leaning against the headboard as he turns it to the side. 

“Found your present,” he admits, though his attempts to look remorseful are nullified by his rough voice and flushed face. “Sorry I spoiled the surprise.”

Another moan escapes his throat, and his eyes fall shut as he arches his back, squeezing firmly at the base of his shaft, not quite ready to finish just yet. You shift slightly, thighs rubbing together as your cunt clenches around nothing, wetness beginning to seep into your underwear. 

You could climb into Keigo’s lap right now, letting your tits spill out of your breezy little sundress as you bunch up the skirt, shuddering at the feeling of his fingers rubbing you through your panties. He’d hook a finger in them, tugging them aside before sinking two digits right into your pussy, just the way you like it. You’d squeeze his rock hard erection through his silky, red thong, mirroring the way he stretched your own panties to the side to reveal the full length of his thick, weeping cock. Together, you’d make a filthy, wet, sticky mess—and merely seeing his panties covered in your cum and his own would find you begging him to bend you over and take you again, roughly fucking you into the mattress till you’re sobbing his name and filled deeply with his seed.

But you can save that for tomorrow.

Later tonight, even.

Right now, you’re overcome with the need to watch him bring himself to completion. You lean in, mouth ghosting over his as you let your tongue gently slide over his bottom lip. He shivers. 

“This is better than any way I imagined giving them to you.”

He captures your tongue between his lips, mouth slotting over yours in a messy kiss. 

“Can I fuck you in these?” 

“Only if you get cum all over them for me first,” you implore him, fingertips caressing the stubble on his jaw.

Keigo moans at your request, the steady rhythm he’s fallen into while fucking his fist faltering, the heavy strokes growing sloppy.

“Feels so good,” he chokes out.

You can’t help but run a hand over your breasts, a breathy sound falling from your lips as you thumb at your peaked, tender nipples. His lust-blown eyes don’t miss the movement, and you squeeze your tits, letting them swell over the low-cut neckline of your dress.

Carding your fingers through his hair, you whisper against the shell of his ear, “I’m so wet just watching you, Keigo.”

“Fuck, baby,” he grunts. “How wet?”

Leaning back to hold his gaze, you trail a hand beneath your dress and into your underwear, running a finger along your damp slit. You moan in response, unable to deny yourself the pleasure of plunging two fingers into your slippery cunt.

“Show me,” he exhales, toned laced with desperation.

Your pussy twitches in protest when you pull your digits out, but it’s entirely worth it for what happens next—

Placing your fingers in front of Keigo, you expect he’ll offer you a cheeky smile as he licks a broad stroke along the digits, tasting the arousal that’s coating them. Instead, his lips fall open, and he takes your fingers directly into his mouth. The ache between your thighs grows at the sensation of his tongue languidly licking them clean, but he doesn’t stop there. He begins to suck on the digits, replacing the juices from your cunt with his own saliva, golden eyes going hazy as he moans around them.

Heat spreads beneath your skin, desire clawing its way through every crevice of your body, and your own breathing goes ragged at the sight before you. At this rate, Keigo’s going to need to fuck every single one of your holes in those cum-soaked panties tonight before you’ve had your fill of him. 

“Good boy,” you murmur, watching the way his wings splay even wider at the praise. “Make a mess.”

Keigo groans loudly at that, his strokes growing erratic as he finally lets his impending climax consume him entirely. Seemingly endless ropes of cum spill from his cock, the thick, eager spurts flooding his panties and painting the length of his chest. 

“I hope you saved some for me,” you say when he’s finished, a playful smile on your face as you gesture toward the way his softening shaft is still twitching slightly, small dribbles of cum continuing to weakly leak out of him.

Looking down, he begins to laugh at himself, taking a deep breath as he runs a hand through his messy hair. “I hope you planned on buying mor—”

He chokes mid-sentence as you lean down and begin mouthing at his cock through his panties, running your tongue over the cum that’s leaking through the material. 

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