#straight laced 7

[scribbleseas]

Straight Laced, Chapter VII: To Be A Prima Ballerina (Act II)...

Description: After the London’s Royal Ballet company’s prima ballerina goes missing within a string of mysterious disappearances among the ballet’s young ballerinas, you finally get your chance to debut in the leading role, taking on the position’s physical toil and immense social pressure. Although this role was supposed to be your grand jeté into the spotlight, it is quickly complicated when these disappearances catch the eye of Ciel Phantomhive — the Queen’s Guard Dog. He is a captious and shrewd man who also happens to be one of London’s most eligible bachelors.

For enough profit for you to secure your freedom for the first time, Lord Phantomhive double casts you as both his accomplice to solving these dancer disappearances and… his pretend lover. While debuting as London’s new prima ballerina, you must perfect a brand new routine: deceiving all of the nation’s polite society while actively searching for a serial killer — all while being an immigrant from France with a dancer’s reputation.

What could go wrong when you realize this off-stage performance of yours may not be an act at all?

Story Warnings: detailed description of gore, pain, and violence, detailed death, smut & explicit sexual scenes, allusions to non-consensual sex, objectification, prostitution, allusions to under-aged prostitution, smoking, drinking, eating disorder tendencies (food restriction, frequent references to wanting to maintain a certain weight, over-practicing & exercising), infidelity, fake courtship, swearing

Author’s Note: Hi! I don't know what happened. I sat down thinking I'd add a scene and chill for the night...but I just let everything flow. So now it's done! Please let me know how you feel about this chapter! I'm incredibly proud of it.

Just a quick note before you read: Maman is French for Mom. There is also some explicit content in this chapter! Please make sure to double check the warnings above!

Happy Reading!!

Dan

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MASTERLIST

Early November, 1895

Ciel’s Bedroom

“I’ve needed this,” Ciel mumbled in your ear, planting another impassioned kiss on your lips, caging you in against his bedroom door. “Je ne sais pas combien de temps j'aurais pu attendre,” he said, insinuating that he had a similar lustful desire to yours, his fingers laced in your hair, tenderly keeping your head in place as he kissed you. 

Goosebumps speckled your arms, equal parts from the late autumn night and the innate sensuality that came with Ciel purring your first language into your ear. While French used to drag you back to the pain that your birth country carried, now it was an inside joke between lovers... 

The Next Morning

You woke before Ciel did, peering at the sunlight that streamed in through the drapes. In your sleep, your naked bodies were tangled with one another, giving you more than a sufficient reminder of last night’s…celebration.

Not that you would ever admit it to the shrewd man, but it was the experience you had with a man until that point in your life. Ciel didn’t treat you like a plaything who was there to enrich his experience; he spoiled you— delightfully so. You had a constellation made of contusions sucked into your skin to prove it, some running down your breasts, your back, and even your backside. Ciel impressed you— especially for a man who told you to cover more skin upon your first meeting. He was too flustered to speak to you candidly at the time.

Ciel broke the kiss to start unbuttoning your nightshirt, waiting for your approval before truly continuing. You nodded your consent, more than confident in your body, and more importantly, more than willing to proceed with Ciel. The chemistry residing between the two of you was thick enough to cut with a knife.

The Earl sighed, enraptured with the look of your bare breasts on display. His thumb caressed one of your nipples as he returned his attention back to your lips.

Now, Ciel was asleep next to you, his chest rising and falling. From the way the side of your head lay on his chest, you could hear his heartbeat. A glance upwards told you his regal features were relaxed— seldom for a man who tended to sneer and scowl. You felt his idle hand rest on your lower back, keeping your body close to his, even in slumber.

Your fingertips traced up his sternum, between his firm pecs and above his loosely etched abdominal muscles. He was a noble— his body wasn’t trained to be durable, and yet, it was strong and lean under your touch. Just as it performed last night.

You felt his biceps flex as he picked you up once more, only to dispense you on his bed. He pulled your drawers down and spread your legs, unwilling to allow you to focus on his pleasure. He kneeled on the ground, leveling his face with your core.

It was the first time a man’s desire to plunge you into euphoria outweighed his need for you to pleasure him.

“Ciel!” you gasped at the shock of his lips lapping at your slickness. You were wet with tipsy anticipation and desire, surprised that a nobleman of his stature was willing to be so crude in his ministrations. His tongue lapped between your folds, the tip gently stopping at your clit to lick at it slowly. Your fingers wove into his raven hair as if you needed to encourage him further.

The amusement in your voice was palpable as you coaxed the Earl out of his sleep. He wasn’t a heavy sleeper so it only took your ascending touch up his chest to rouse him. His left eye fluttered open, the right remaining closed by instinct, you imagined.

“Good morning,” you flashed a knowing smile as he rubbed at his eye, yawning to shake off the rest of his drowsiness. If you didn’t have a strict morning regime to tend to in moments, you might have opted to retreat under the sheets and wake him a different way.  

“Y/n,” Ciel mumbled, hesitating to say more. He squinted at you, equal parts confusion and surprise. He looked at your hand, realizing that one of his own sat squarely on your ass. As if your skin was burning, he moved his hand.

“What…. Wait. We…?” The Earl started to ask, his eyebrows drawing together in uncertainty. He knew the answer. He didn’t like it. 

Your stomach sank.

You knew this expression. Mild regret, disbelief— all of your patrons regarded you similarly after sleeping with you. It was always at the moment they remembered their real lives. Their responsibilities. Their wives. Their statures. 

You were a fantasy, drawn out in the dead of night under the sweet influence of wine. They preyed on your beauty and your charm only to retreat after realizing that their greed cost them. And yet, they still returned. Night, after night, after night.

Ciel was supposed to be different.  

Even after playing a pivotal role in solving the case, you were a temporary celebration. A reward. A trophy. He didn’t want you beyond the night, and now that the case was solved, he was musing the best way to rid himself of you. After all, your courtship was merely an investigative ploy. A strategy. 

There was simply no evolving. No change. Conditional desire.

“Yes,” you answered, your smile melting. “We did. You remember,” you declared. He didn’t drink enough to forget. You knew he didn’t. Your wine bottle sat a little less than half full on the table to your side. 

“I do,” he confirmed. There was a beat of silence.

Observing your growing hurt, he cleared his throat and spoke again, “I… enjoyed last night.” It was an ironic sentiment, given that he was in the midst of sitting up and ensuring the bed sheets covered his waist and down. He was creating distance between you, purposeful and methodical. 

Why?

As Ciel’s hips sunk into yours, he pressed a long kiss against your lips. “Vous êtes une tentatrice. Je ne sais pas combien de temps j'aurais pu attendre. J'ai besoin de toi. Maintenant,” he experimented by thrusting his hips, forcing you to gasp.

“As did I,” you replied cautiously. “Though do you—” love me? wish for this to happen again? want to legitimize our courtship?

“— We should discuss how we mean to proceed with the public,” Ciel interrupted, “I think allowing our courtship to slowly burn out over the next month should suffice.”

You felt no different than him slapping you across the face. You winced.“What do you mean?”

“If we sever our public relationship immediately after William’s arrest, it would be suspicious,” Ciel explained, rolling his shoulders back in a morning stretch. He pulled the bedsheet around his waist as he stood.

“Sever our public relationship?” You repeated as if you didn’t understand his English. 

“Certainly. I don’t mean to inconvenience you further, and naturally, I must resume my search for a Countess… as fruitless as it may be,” Ciel explained, blind to your hurt.

Resume his search?

You couldn’t help but recall Ciel’s words to Alexander Huntington: “That is quite enough,” he replied, as cold as a glacier. “You will not speak of her in such a manner. She may very well be the next Countess of Phantomhive.”

You also recalled Alexander’s response; it seemed to grow truer by the second: “Just because you’ve dressed her pretty, doesn’t mean she’s worth anything more than a common prostitute.”

You used a blanket for your modesty as you stepped out of the bed. You couldn’t be a countess. You were a commoner from France who grew up in a ballet school because you were an illegitimate love child between a maid and a duke. Maman did her best to raise you and your father had no desire to associate himself with you. 

You were an embarrassment to Ciel, too. 

You were not a Countess. You danced on a stage and entertained men in order to feed and house yourself. There was no value in you beyond celebration.

“For your assistance with this case, you will always have Phantomhive support. You’ve brought my attention to a foul practice within the theater industry. I will ensure Her Majesty abolishes it, and if there is ever anything else I can do for you, don’t hesitate to contact me.” Ciel affirmed. It was a kind offer. A fair one, even. He was severing your only social protection from seeing selfish patrons nightly but committed himself to end the very practice itself. Not to mention, he gave you more than a generous salary--- you could likely afford your own townhouse now without having to rely on pleasing a patron.

He cared for you. That had been his duty from the start of his investigation, after all. This wasn’t a storybook; it wasn’t Ciel’s duty to fall for you.

Your mouth was cotton dry, the rest of your face warm with embarrassment. You had never felt your heart strain in such a painful, deliberate way. It was heavy in your chest, threatening to implode right along with your pride and vulnerability. 

“Thank you,” you managed to reply, gritting your teeth into an appreciative smile. It was the vacant stage smile you used during the performances that required the most technical focus. “I told you that you cared for me,” your joke was wry in your mouth, and there wasn’t enough humor in it for Ciel to engage. 

Instead, he searched between your tired gaze and your false smile, hesitating because he was unsure of how he needed to reply. Ciel didn’t want to upset you; he didn’t think he was. He must have thought these encounters were meaningless to you because they were merely another facet of your career. It must have been meaningless to him because he was a high-powered man who likely had numerous sexual partners. 

He was the Earl of Phantomhive. He could have anyone for his Countess. When would there ever be merit in choosing a prima ballerina?

You had to remain amicable. Your responsibilities with Lord Phantomhive were not complete— you still had to facilitate this slow end to your courtship (the one that had never been real in the first place) and lead it to a very passive and public breakup. 

“As for the art gallery reveal gala tonight?” You asked. Ciel was invited to the renowned painter, Terrence Stannard’s, annual party to show off his newest body of work. He’d invited several prosperous businessmen and aristocracts known for philanthropy in the arts because he was an “avarice-infected bastard that used most art investments he receives to fill his pocket and buy lavish luxuries rather put it towards the production of any canvas of value,” according to the Earl. 

Stannard was influential enough for The British Museum to readily host these galleries, but Ciel wanted to put Stannard in his place by subtly flaunting Phantomhive prosperity. You doubted he would skip the appearance, even if he was on the heels of closing a case for the Queen. There were too many high-profile guests invited— nobility, celebrities, businessmen, government officials. It was too crucial for the Lord of Phantomhive to miss.

“We will be in attendance. Natasha already canceled your rehearsal tonight to manage her husband’s affairs— we can leave ahead of schedule,” Ciel said, stepping towards his washroom meaningfully. He wanted you to leave, and he was blissfully (or purposely, knowing him) unaware of the pain he caused you.  

“Fine. I should start rehearsing if we are leaving earlier this evening. Do not interrupt me for breakfast, please. I can send for Mey-Rin when I am ready,” you declared, allowing your face to fall back into somber neutrality. You fully pulled the blanket around you, tucking a corner under your arm to keep the makeshift robe fastened around your body. You didn’t meet Ciel’s gaze as you started towards his bedroom door, your eyes painfully catching the wall directly next to it. 

That was the very spot he had you pinned not eight hours prior. You couldn’t stand to be in his quarters much longer, ripe with silent mortification. You twisted the doorknob —

“Y/n?” Ciel started, confusion rising in his tone. “Are—”

— and shut the door behind you. 

What made you think this man would be any different?

They all wanted the same thing. Maman was right-- your father, the duke, wanted her for her body and cast her aside like trash after she told him she was with child. With you. 

Later

The Rehearsal Room

The only place you could regain your control was on pointe shoes. You immediately slipped into a practice leotard, stretched on the barre, and started warming up. 

You were Y/n Y//l/n, one of London’s foremost prima ballerinas. Not only that, you solved a series of murder cases and didn’t hesitate to engage in a plot to rightfully arrest the owner of your opera house.

Your skill was so prominent and breathtaking that you transformed yourself every day through practiced steps and expressions.

 No one had the right to demean you so.

You weren’t Y/n Y/l/n when you danced in front of a mirror. You were The Sugar Plum Fairy, Odette, Odie… the character you were pouring your body and soul into encompassing. You were a regal fairy queen, an innocent girl trapped in a curse, a spoiled and deceptive daughter… All you needed was the choreography, the music, and a pair of pointe shoes. You could be anyone.

No one’s validation meant nearly as much as your own, and you were beautiful. A well of talent.

Your breathing came in strained exhales, your hands resting on your kneecaps to support your upper body. You didn’t notice how much time passed — as the autumn grew deeper, nights came sooner. The sun was already beginning to retreat starting the earliest stages of dusk. The sky from the small window looked orange.

Sweat rolled down your back, tracing your spine. You could feel your heart pound in your ears, thumping like a drum. White and black spots danced in your eyes, your head swimming as you leaned against the wall in an attempt to stay upright. 

This was the result of practicing coupé jetés for hours without sufficient breaks and fuel. You knew this nauseous, dizzy feeling quite well. You were old acquaintances, by now.

“Miss Y/l/n, I apologize for interrupting, but I must begin preparing you for the gallery— oh dear,” Sebastian’s approaching voice sounded distant, even though his lanky figure appeared to be much closer as he stabilized you. “Mey-Rin!” he called out, taking you in your arms like a pathetic rag doll, “get water and two slices of banana bread!”

“Sebastian,” you grumbled in protest. 

“You have absolutely no say in the matter,” the butler insisted, crisply admonishing you as he brought you back to your room and sat you upright on the bed. Mey-Rin came rushing in after several short moments, Sebastian thanking her for her efforts while you accepted the water like a woman deprived for years. 

The cold stung your throat and cleared your head. 

“The banana bread,” Sebastian reminded you. 

You looked at it, tempted, but not convinced. Upon glancing back at the butler, he offered you an insistent glare, communicating that if you didn’t take a bite of the thick slice yourself, he would find a way to force you to do so. This very same attitude had to be how he forced his master to be so perfect— at everything. 

You had to admit, your body settled much more once you finished the slice of bread (and swallowed down another from Mey-Rin). Of course, it was delicious, and it started to soothe the complaining in your stomach. You were so accustomed to the sharp pain of starvation, that it settled in the back of your mind.

You even accepted a cooked cut of salmon cooked in lemon juice and garlic, paired with a side of rice. Baldroy was putting his finishing touches on his master’s supper, and Sebastian ordered him to bring a plate to you. Ciel never liked to go to events on an empty stomach, as heavily grazing on a host’s offerings too much made him feel much too in their debt. (“I can afford my own meals, I’m Ciel Phantomhive.”)

Sebastian returned to your room after ensuring Ciel had everything he needed to enjoy his dinner. “I told my Lord that you are taking your meal in your quarters to save time, given how late into the day you practiced. We still must prepare you for the gala tonight. You seem up to it,” he gauged your color, given how you must have been shades paler from your previous state. It wasn’t the first time, and it certainly wasn’t the last. 

“I am,” you started to confirm, only for Sebastian to interrupt. 

“Miss, you are a professional. You should understand that your body requires energy to perform,” Sebastian chastised. “Eating less than an ascetic monk will only degrade those muscles you need so much.”

“Do not tell Ciel,” you grumbled, unwilling to hear this lecture from both the Earl and his head butler. 

“Surely you are aware that I am not permitted to lie to my master,” he replied placidly, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Lying and failing to mention something are two different things,” you argued, finishing off the last of the fourth refill of water you guzzled down in the last half hour. You knew Sebastian was correct— you couldn’t push yourself to your limits without properly eating, but sometimes, it was impossible to bring yourself to do so. Ballet demanded particular physiques, and patrons favored the same. Maintaining your appearance was more than a career investment; it was part of your occupation. 

“Touché, Miss,” Sebastian conceded, the corners of his mouth pulling into an affirmative smirk. You could never figure out where you stood with the enigmatic man, but to you, this treatment was a suitable show of kindness. It was uncharacteristic of Sebastian’s strict countenance, but you appreciated the gesture. He could have left you panting on the dance floor and pried you to your feet when it was time to prepare for the fundraiser “I will begin to draw your bath, now,” he turned to your washroom, only pausing when you stopped him.

“Sebastian. Do you know that Ciel and I…” you started, letting the question die on your tongue. You regretted the question the second you asked.

“It is my duty to be aware of everything that transpires in my master’s life, private or not,” Sebastian admitted. “Why do you ask?” he maintained his typically perky intonation, though he seemed to be searching your face.

“…No reason,” you looked away, your cheeks burning. There was nothing to be accomplished in that line of thought. Even if Ciel made you feel seen for anything beyond your looks and dancing prowess, that was never an indication that he felt anything more than physical attraction towards you. In the end, he wanted to sleep with you and maintain the same lukewarm relationship you had prior because it was most convenient for him given your lack of noble rank, or he simply didn’t share the same connection you had so vividly succumbed to.

And you didn’t need him to. You never needed anyone in your life; there was no need to start now.

“As you wish, Miss,” Sebastian proceeded to prepare your bath. 

The long process of preparing you for these events was somehow expedited between the combined and coordinated efforts of Mey-Rin and Sebastian. In half the time it might have taken you to achieve a similar loose updo, soft makeup, and flawless, shimmering accessorization, you once again resembled a Countess’ dignity.

However, you refused to allow yourself to feel that superficial. In the floor-length mirror, you regarded your reflection. 

Again, your reflected visage was never Y/n Y/l/n. Instead, you channeled the Sugar Plum Fairy — her effortless confidence, whimsy, and unfailing charisma that commanded the fairy court and the audience alike. 

Your gown was a statement purple, an homage to Natasha’s surprising decision to make one of your Sugar Plum leotards a vivid lavender with darker purple and gold detailing. This gown reflected the same palette; your skirts fell in ruffled waves, intricate with golden and floral patterns down the sides. Your sleeves were long and merged with purple gloves that ended just before your elbow. 

You were flawless, and you would see this role to its very end. No matter how you felt about Ciel, you had a job to complete, and you would do just that. A prima ballerina never abandoned her role, and she never allowed her personal theatrics to distract from her professional. Ever. 

That Night

The British Museum

“Remember: no one knows about William’s arrest,” Ciel mumbled into your ear, causing your smile to drop for a fraction of a second. It was as brief as a flickering light, irritated by the Earl’s frequent need to remind you of aspects of your performance that you were more than cognizant of. 

You were arm in arm as he led you into Stannard’s gallery, ignoring the nosy journalists snapping photographs of your backs. The displays seemed to show off a particular brand of oil paint, a brand that paid the artist to create such blunt advertisements for the company. Still, they were lovely works from your perspective, displaying different ethereal scenes in nature. 

You merely hummed in response, discomfort stiffening your body. As he had for Huntington’s ball, Ciel’s tie matched your purple gown, making you both appear as a matching set. The rest of his suit was black, causing his blue eye to appear somehow more vibrant, and his pale complexion to glow. You wanted to kiss him almost as much as you wanted to kick him.

“Stannard is making his rounds. We’ll let him approach us later on,” Ciel said, gesturing to a man around his age with his chin. While there wasn’t anything particularly notable about the tall painter, you recognized the young woman at his side. Her name was… Maisie?--- She was a talented dancer, cast as The Snow Queen in your Nutcracker production. After all, she was second in the running for prima ballerina behind you. You defeated her.

Maisie’s honey blonde hair paired with her emerald gown flawlessly as she smiled boredly. Her eyes searched the room for something more gripping than her patron’s conversation. You could’ve sworn Ciel said Stannard was married--- or was it previously married?

Right. Stannard left his wife for Maisie. A proud young woman, she loved to show off her new husband. After all, it used to be the only aspect of her life that was better than yours. Before you and Ciel started this ruse, at least.

Stannard was now Maisie’s husband. No one knew where Stannard’s former wife was after she went missing.

“I know her,” you started to whisper, only for the words to die on your tongue. There was no need to point out your work acquaintance-- it was only a gala. You only needed to play the part of an adoring young woman, polite and thankful. Gracious.  

Instead, you took the opportunity to observe the rest of the gala. Light dancing music played for those who danced in the greater atrium below. The gallery was situated on a balcony that ran around the perimeter.

Everyone was dressed in their best ensembles, the finest materials, their finest jewels. You wondered how much all of these accessories were worth-- how much of a difference even one of these necklaces would make to a factory worker. Even the dusty purple choker around your neck had diamond and amethyst pendants falling from it in the shapes of teardrops--- it had to be worth thousands.

The movement below made the participating women’s gowns appear like blotted paint on a distant canvas.

“Yes, thank you,” Ciel accepted two glasses of champagne from a server and offered one to you, leisurely investigating the painting closest to you both. He peered at Stannard’s signature in the lower right corner of the canvas, appearing stoic to the common acquaintance but askance to you. 

“You do not believe Stannard is the artist behind these,” you claimed, turning your back to the rest of the party. Like Ciel, you faced the painting. You took a smug drink of your champagne.

“What?” he asked, pulled out of his train of thought.

You took a drink from your champagne to settle your irritation with the Earl. “You think he is lying about his talent,” you reiterated as if he didn’t understand you the first time.

Your lips pulled into a poisonous half-smile at his silence. You were right, and the realization made you chuckle to yourself. 

“Don’t say such things so loud,” Ciel admonished with no real force behind it. If anything, he seemed amused, casting a barely-there grin at you. You had to make a clear effort to kill the flying butterflies in your stomach. 

There was nothing between you.

But even so, the familiar exchange helped unravel a great deal of tension in your shoulders. There could be normalcy…at least for the last few days he was at your side for. Without the butterflies, there was a melancholic guilt to fill the space in your abdomen, not unlike the pain of starvation. You could push it to the back of your mind all the same. You would.

“Lord Phantomhive? Is that you?” An aged, motherly voice greeted. You both turned to meet its source. 

You didn’t recognize the woman, nor the young woman at her side. They hardly resembled one another, the young woman’s fiery red hair a stark contrast to the mature woman’s graying brown hair. 

“Good evening, Your Grace,” Ciel bowed, the gesture causing you to lower yourself into a curtsey. Of course, their rank was higher than his; no one dared approach Lord Phantomhive without a looming stature. “And to you, Lady Caroline,” he addressed the young woman. Her black gown made her red hair and deep brown eyes all the more soulful. She blushed at him.

“Hello, Lord Phantomhive,” Caroline smiled, chuckling as if he did more than greet her properly. 

“You know how I feel about Your Grace,” the elder woman joked but it was far from reaching her eyes, despite the smile lines that creased next to them. It was a quip that was intended to make her seem humble and approachable, but it was a mere reminder of her status. “I want you to call me Gwen,” she said airily, lying through her teeth. Ciel was smart enough to know that.

“I could never do such a thing, ma’am,” Ciel replied, mirroring her fake smile. His was much more convincing. Painfully so. The fact you couldn’t introduce yourself to another human being was horrifically demeaning. At least Lord Tiverton addressed you at the last ball--- Gwen and Caroline couldn’t seem to care less about your presence. In fact, they had yet to spare you a glance.

To your relief, Ciel started to introduce you. “I’m here with---”

“This is a lovely gala tonight, wouldn’t you say? I heard they had this orchestra sail from Germany,” Gwen cut in with her dazzling smile. “I wish we could have found you an accompaniment tonight, my dear.” she fixed her attention on Caroline for a moment, only to resettle her expectant gaze on Ciel. “It’s such a once-in-a-lifetime waltz.”

There was a distressing lack of courting suitor at Caroline’s side. Your mouth was dry, your eyes stinging. You didn’t want to be right. You prayed you weren’t.

“It wouldn’t be too much to ask you to go with her for a number or two, would it?” Gwen ordered. She spoke as if she was simply asking Ciel to fetch her her own flute of champagne.

Your stomach plummeted to the gates of hell. 

There was a beat of silence, Caroline’s big eyes pleaded, and Gwen’s cold gaze demanded.

You were being suffocated--- socially executed. They may as well have pulled out a gun and aimed.

He wouldn’t, would he? Could he? Honestly?

“Of course,” he answered after a second too long. 

Ciel pulled the trigger.

“I will only be a moment,” Ciel finally addressed you, dropping his unfinished champagne on a server’s tray. Before you could reply, Caroline was leading him down the stairs and to the bottom level. You remained at the top, an unfamiliar rage igniting in the front of your head. You could feel the stinging of lingering eyes on you, the soft hum of hushed chatter around you --- about you. 

Your mind raced between unmitigated rage and desperately wondering what Sebastian might tell you to do. He never prepared you for an incredibly acerbic duchess and her entitled daughter, or a situation where you would be left adrift at one of these events without Ciel. 

Do not engage in argument, do not interrupt anyone when they are speaking, do not lose temper or speak excitedly, do not speak of personal matters, you remembered Sebastian say. But there was nothing of substance there. Nothing to train you for watching the man you had butterflies for and kissed and touched simply… walk away from you and dance with a woman you’d never heard about. 

From the balcony, you watched Ciel bow in front of Caroline, her black gown pooling on the floor as she curtsied. They looked striking next to one another, stately and striking. Caroline knew the etiquette expected of a young woman, she was a noble. She didn’t need hurried lessons, and she never had to lay her dignity bare for a man.

“Beautiful, aren’t they? It makes perfect sense,” Gwen’s voice returned at your side.  

Your head jerked to look at her, startled. “Oh--- hello,”  you couldn’t recall her title quick enough, it seemed.

“Your Grace,” Gwen prompted. All kindness aimed at Ciel was now absent from her face.

Do not lose temper. Do not argue, Sebastian reminded you.

“...Your Grace,” you finished pathetically. 

“Do you know who Caroline and I are, Y/n?” Gwen asked, showing that she did know who you were.  

“No,” you replied breathlessly, keeping your gaze steady on Ciel and Caroline as they moved with one another.

“I am the Duchess of Norfolk. Caroline’s father is the Duke of Norfolk, Henry Fitzaland-Howard. The new Postmaster General--- he was just appointed this year, isn’t that amazing?” She over pronounced her words for you, making a joke out of your first language being foreign. The same one Ciel whispered in your ear and kissed into your lips just last night. You hated the language, once again. “Caroline is our only child. We need a Duke of Norfolk. You understand.”

You wished you didn’t understand. Unfortunately, you recalled hearing of the Howard line, carelessly skimming an article that traced their lineage back to 1425. Your line traced back to a beautiful maid and an enamored--- yet embarrassed--- Duke. You were his secret shame.

Caroline was her father’s pride.

You felt hollow.

“We cannot have Ciel distracted with you any longer,” Gwen said, regaining some of the sick kindness she spoke with, now that individuals were passing behind you. By now, most of the gala attendees were dancing below you. “And it’s clear that he no longer wishes to be distracted.”

Despite your silence, Gwen continued. “But perhaps we might see you on your way out of the estate; Lord Phantomhive invited us for tea next week,” she added pleasantly. “Be sure to start packing. I’m not sure he’ll allow you to keep all of this.”

“I need to go to the washroom. Excuse me,” you snapped, finishing off your champagne. You shoved the glass into the duchess’s hand, storming down the staircase and through the onlookers as they watched couples dance. Tears blurred in your eyes, threatening to fall, but not quite doing so. 

You pushed past attendees, walking as quickly as you could in the heels Sebastian put you in. They were short, but your feet ached from your vehement rehearsing. They were probably bleeding.

“Y/n!” You heard someone call. You continued.

You had no obligation to let yourself fall to the back of Ciel’s agenda. You solved his murder case. You thought you could love him. You thought he could love you. That wasn’t something he could simply erase by scheduling afternoon tea with Her Highness. No matter how much he wanted to. No matter how much you embarrassed him.

You could exit his life on your own. You didn’t need help. You weren’t Maman--- you had more to offer than wiping windows and dusting bookshelves. Maman made sure of that. She put you in a ballet academy so you were assured to have a career. To ensure that you would never have to sweep after the wealthy or beg for their scraps on the street. You were her kindness, her smile, her patience. You were the best of her, and she used her final breath to tell you just that.

You owed it to her to stand with pride as Y/n Y/l/n, prima ballerina. To stand as a star; a brilliant supernova on stage and en pointe. 

And now, you had the financial freedom to rebuff any man who tried to change that.

“Y/n! Stop!”

You took to a run, pushing past the security guards near the museum’s entrance, ignoring their confused shouts. Surely you were moving too fast for them to recognize you, but that wasn’t what informed them of your identity. You held up your gown the best you could as you navigated the front stairway. The front of the museum was barren, reporters bored with being on the wrong side of the armed guard, and all gala attendees successfully captured in the throes of revelry and opulence.

“Y/n!” Ciel shouted, catching your hand in yours.

“What?” you demanded, the tears welling in your eyes finally falling down your cheeks. “What is it, Ciel?”

“Just let go of me,” your voice broke with a sob, your tears warm against your cold cheeks. “Please, just let me go.”

Ciel was never at a loss for words. His grip was still iron around your hand as he regarded you, panting from the exertion you put him through. His exhales came out in puffs of condensation from the frigid evening. 

“I know what this was,” you continued. “I know what it was supposed to be, but what was here between us was real. And you- all you want to do is…throw it away. And why? Because I’m not h-her! Maybe I’ve never met my father, and I only have a small closet of a townhouse --- that you had no desire to even sit in! --- to my name, but I---.... we…were---” you were at a loss for words. 

There was no putting this into words.

Not the stolen touches last night, not your intuitive knowledge of one another, and certainly not the euphoria of waking up entangled with one another.

You wiped your eyes and pulled your hostage hand from his. Swallowing deeply, you put all of your emotion into six words: “You are a coward, Lord Phantomhive.” You turned to continue on your way. You didn’t know where. All you needed was away. 

“That’s not! Y/n, stop!” This was the most frenzied you’d heard the Earl’s posh accent get. You didn’t care.

“Stop!” He followed. “You don’t understand!”

“What is there to understand?” You turned on your heel.

Before Ciel could reply, a distant gunshot rang out, accompanied by a choir of shrill, terrified screams from the far side of the street. The back of the museum. The security that had been at the museum doors --- now a sizable distance from you --- ran towards the source. 

In an instant, Sebastian was poised both in front of you and Ciel. Ciel brandished himself in front of you, as instinctive as his butler’s desire to protect him. You hadn’t even seen Sebastian nearby at all--- but then again, you were more than a little distracted. 

“Call the Yard! She’s bleeding! Fast!” A man called out.

“Come, Y/n. Sebastian, watch for gunfire. Let no one within an arm’s length from us,” Ciel ordered, separating his personal distress with ease. He was trained for this. The man guiding you to the source of the calamity wasn’t the man you were berating across the street from the museum. This was The Queen’s Guard Dog, and he needed his partner.

Someone was shot. Not even you were selfish enough to continue your tirade. “Fine,” you mumbled, drying the last of your tears. You let Ciel guide you, Sebastian trailing behind your back. 

Within moments, you were staring at the dead body of Maisie Stannard. 

[utilitycaster]

wait I'm still stuck on the phrase "5e isn’t actually meant to be easy for new players, it’s meant to be approachable" from that aforementioned neckbeard because like...when I have heard actual thoughtful discussion of D&D 5e vs. PF2e from people who have respect for both (and admittedly I have no respect for the latter and don't pretend to) the general consensus is that D&D 5e prioritized new player onboarding and simplicity, whereas PF2e prioritized consistency and high-level scaling. Like with all due respect (none) the very first thing I assume when I hear "this game is approachable" is "this game is pretty easy for new players to pick up."

[starlessnightsblog]

7 minutes in heaven with ...Hyunjin?!

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18+ | smut | wc: 2.7k

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fuck, i shouldn’t of come.

you thought to yourself. you sat on the floor in a dimly lit room in a frat house getting ready to play a game of spin the bottle. your best friend had dragged you out of the dorms, for this? you’d rather be anywhere else right now, especially after making eye contact with him. Hwang Hyunjin.

you two didn’t like each other - that was putting it lightly. He was annoying, arrogant, and everyone worshipped him. you hated that, and he hated you because you didn’t, or at least that’s how it seemed.

after a few spins, the bottle landed on you and …him. your friend laughed, knowing the lore between the two of you, and this round the chosen were to play seven minutes in heaven. was this the demon lord’s doing? someone had to have had it out for you.

you rolled your eyes, but you didn’t wanna cause a scene, you wouldn’t, so you went willingly, Hyunjin leading the way.

after a few minutes, you were already sitting in a cramped closet, very cramped. you were sitting opposite of him, your knees almost touching, though you were trying your best to keep even that from happening. while he looked at you with a cold expression, “well?” he spoke.

you huffed, coming off bored. “i’m not doing anything with you.” disgust laced in your tone, “i’d rather swim with sharks.”

“please,” he scoffed, “it’s not like i want to be here with you either.”

“this is hell.” you sighed.

he smirked, “it’s just 7 minutes.”

“7 minutes too long.”

he leaned over to you, “stop whining. it's gonna pass very quickly.”

you shot him a glare.

���asshole.”

he chuckled at your insult, then proceeded to purposely click his knees to yours.

“calm down. It’s not my fault the bottle fell on you.”

you were clearly not amused with any of this. how he was so calm was beyond your comprehension. you looked up, a warm light hung above, doing little to nothing. he was fidgeting with his rings on his nimble fingers. the shadows casted shaping his perfectly sculpted features whilst loose strands of hair framed his face, his honey skin glistened and lush as ever. it was aggravating how perfect he was.

he must’ve felt you staring because he looked straight up at you. a sly grin appearing on his face.

“are you checking me out, princess?”

fuck. that’s exactly what you were doing.

“no.”

“seemed like it.” he slurred his words, he even sounded hot.

“just because everyone else finds you attractive, doesn’t mean i do.” a lie. “and don’t call me that.”

he tilt his head to the side, brows furrowed and holding his bottom lip between his teeth. he spoke again, his tone deep and low, inching closer on into your side of the closet. your back sank into the wall behind you, you had no where to go. like a mouse caught in the cat’s mouth.

“no need to lie to me. i can see right through you, princess.” he whispered.

your breath caught as he closed the distance between you even more, he was enticing, daunting, was this a test? he rendered you near speechless, your cheeks were burning up, and you hoped he couldn’t tell. you held your ground, wanting to be just as intimidating (failing). though his black eyes were pulling you in further, his expensive cologne clouding your thoughts. you liked all of it, and you couldn’t admit it, or more like, you were choosing not to.

“this is a game for you, im not stupid Hyunjin.” you whispered, your brain felt fuzzy, your eyes hung low, and were draped with lust induced curiosity. your tone not nearly as serious as you words. maybe you even batted your lashes, and stole a glance at his lips, not that.. that meant anything, or whatever.

he smirked once more when you whispered his name. he was enjoying the way you looked at him, your lashes casting shadows that met the blush on your cheeks. he’d gift you the world if you asked him to in this moment, that’s how awestruck he was in your presence. and the way you said his name, he usually only heard insults from you, he knew he was getting somewhere if that wasn’t the case now. he placed his hand on your knee, pushing them down and slowly dragged his hand along your inner thigh, seeing just how far you were gonna let him go.

his eyes were low, focused on his own movements, as you watched, your heart now pounding against your rib cage.

he spoke in a low, calming tone, “im not playing a game. you’re just obvious.”

you scoffed, “and you’re just delusional.”

you attempted to remove his hand with your own, but when your hand met his, something shifted. his hands were much larger than your own, your eyes lingered on them for a moment, they could swallow your own hands whole. you began to wonder how they would feel wrapped around your-

your smile slipped as you came to terms with your situation, locked in a closet with the campus it boy, mr.prince himself. anyone else would kill for this opportunity, not you though, right?

shit.

when he realized you weren’t gonna move his hand, his grip tightened and he edged even closer. he was now sitting between your legs.

he loved the way you couldn’t look away from his eyes now, the way your smile faded. he could see the wheels turning in your head and he held your gaze, but admiring all of you. “if i am, tell me to stop.”

you were able to come up for air for a moment.

“you just want me to fall into your trap.”

and if it was working? then what? but he knew the answer to that, jerk, you thought.

“you’re so use to just getting what you want… i’m not that easy.”

your words were hollow, yet they stung. he held the close proximity anyway, and you didn’t try to change that, rather, your body didn’t, no matter how much your brain fought against it. your eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, they looked soft… were they?

he held back a smirk, he noticed your glances, swooned in silence. he knew deep down you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. his hand still rested on your thigh, moving it from time to time to make you feel more and more needy for him. he enjoyed that you weren’t as unaffected as you tried to act. “i know you aren’t. you’re the most difficult person i’ve ever met.”

a truth.

you weren’t begging for his attention like others did, he didn’t want you to. he liked the back and forth, he had to admit. though, he had long coveted for you, you despised him, yet here you two were, and at a mere coincidence. you had him in the palm of your hand and you were all but aware of it. he edged closer, risking it all until his lips were hovering dangerously close to yours.

“Hyunjin….” you whispered, a warning. he was winning, but you were too far gone to do anything about it.

Hyunjin’s breath caught as he heard you say his name in a soft voice. you were driving him insane. he wanted to lean in and kiss you, but he held himself back. he needed to tease you a bit more. “yeah, princess? can’t think of anything to say?” his lips hovered over yours as he spoke.

“you’re the one giving it up so easily.” you gave one last bite with your words, shaking your head while your tone and body gave in.

he could sense it all, how your body and tone completely changed. his body was nearly pressed against yours.

he chuckled against your neck and spoke, “just shut up.” he placed small kisses on your neck and collarbone. His hand went up higher on your thigh until it reached your waist, pulling you into him even more.

you held your breath as his lips hit your skin, your nails found their way into his hair, tugging softly. you whispered his name again, your tone needy and desperate. you mentally scolded yourself, what the fuck was that?

he could hear the desperation in your voice, you needed him and it was clear as a day, his name sounded heavenly out your mouth, he wanted to make you say it over and over again. it made him want to do more, to do so much more. he spoke against your skin in a soft, hungry voice. “princess…”

“kiss me already.” you spoke through gritted teeth.

Hyunjin pulled away from your neck slowly when you spoke out those words. he looked at you for a moment, observing how you looked with your eyes full of lust. he didn’t need to hear you beg twice. he crashed his lips against yours and captured them in a heated, hungry kiss. savoring the feeling, and the taste. you were so delicate and soft. he adored it. his tongue slipped in between your lips as his hands grabbed your waist and pulled you on his lap suddenly, his back hitting the wall.

you let out a soft whine into his mouth as he pulled you on top of him, his strength taking you by surprise.

he smirked at that, melting under your pretty little whimpers. as you straddled him, his hands were firmly on your hips, he began to grind you gently on his, in rhythm with the kiss.

and he held you close, like he would lose you at any second, he couldn’t get enough, both your chests pressed against each other, he could feel how hard it was slowly becoming to breathe.

he wore jeans and you could feel everything, the rough fabric easily getting you off already. this was so fucked, yet you were drowning in all of it. the way he held you, the way his hands were slipping under your shirt to squeeze your skin, how he kissed you like he was starving. you couldn’t help it. your hands cupped his face, deepening the already intense feeling between the two of you. you pressed yourself down against the fabric, growing needy for some type of release.

Hyunjin let out a moan quietly as he broke the kiss. he looked at you, breathing heavily, he spoke in a low, dark voice, “(y/n).” he started to run his hands down your waist and thighs, his touch getting more firm and dominant. his gaze was murderous.

he brought his lips to yours again, meeting for a moment but not connecting. you chased them, meeting his again. he kissed you with, if not more, hunger than the last. this one was more merciful, labored. melting every fiber of your being. neither of you could get enough. he pulled back to breath.

“we should stop…” you breathed.

he chuckled at your comment, he leaned in and placed gentle kisses on your shoulder as he responded. “oh really?” he continued giving you kisses up your neck, till he reached your jawline, he looked up at you and spoke, “still wanna stop?”

he was making this difficult, you couldn’t stay in here. someone was bound to catch you. but you really didn’t want it to end either.

“we’ll get caught pretty boy.” your nails traced up his neck.

he was well aware that someone could catch you, that you shouldn’t be doing this at all, but he couldn’t stop himself. he pulled away from your skin and spoke against your ear, “doors locked, we can be quiet?”

your hands snaked past his neck and down his back, underneath his shirt, he was so warm, you let your nails drag softly on his skin. “are you gonna make sure i stay quiet?” you whispered against his ear, leaving one gentle kiss just below it. you couldn’t believe what you were saying, but it was like word vomit, wether you meant it or not.

a shiver went down his spine as he felt your fingernails on his skin and your lips on his ear. he let out a small “fuck” and closed his eyes. he could feel the fire inside of him igniting more and more as your body was pressed against his, your lips on his skin. he didn’t let you speak once more and instead pushed his lips against yours in a voracious kiss. a moan escaped your lips.

Hyunjin grunted against your lips as you started to grind against him again, his hands that were resting on your hips were now fully grasping your ass, he took control. he was breathing heavily and he broke the kiss for a moment again, he spoke in a hot, low voice, sounding very desperate now, “… you’re driving me insane.”

“oh, so now you wanna stop?” you breathed out, you were almost out of breath from the heated kiss. your hands slid down his chest to his torso, and they landed on his belt. he watched you, studying your every move with an ardent gaze, he bit his lip, he couldn’t believe his eyes, all the times he thought of you, and now here you were sitting on his lap, teasing him. he took a deep breath, wanting this so badly, needing you so badly. he furrowed his brows, he took your hands in his, “are you sure you wanna do this?”

and suddenly, you stopped to think.

all of this was happening so fast, you didn’t even recognize this side of yourself. Hyunjin… the boy who was always such a jerk to you, was gripping your hips and moaning curses in your ear in a tiny closet at some frat house. maybe you shouldn’t do this, what were you thinking? he didn’t actually like you, this was probably another regular friday night for him. he probably wanted this to happen so he could brag about come monday. he’d tell everyone how easy it was, how you were the whore who gave it up to him. but when you looked into his eyes, sincerity was all you could sense. you felt like an idiot, you wouldn’t fall for it, fall for him. none of this was genuine. it’s not like you wanted anything more with him. let alone this.

you were telling yourself anything at this point. but every negative thought seemed like a false one. you were confused.

“i-“ you removed your hands, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear. you removed yourself from his lap suddenly and sat back in your original position, missing his warmth already. “i should go-“

you attempted to stand up, and Hyunjin felt his heart sink as you moved away from him, he reached for you, finding your fingers. “hold up-”

you could only look at him, wanting to cry now.

he was quiet for a few moments as his thoughts were entangled together, not knowing what words to use and how to say it without seeming vulnerable. he wasn’t even sure what he was doing himself. he just knew that he wanted you. he looked up at you, his tone soft, “don’t go.”

typical, you thought.

“that’s it?” you scoffed, “i’m not doing this with you. you don’t even like me outside of here… i won’t be made to look like another whore that got added to your roster.”

you yanked your hand from his grasp and stood up, your hand resting on the door handle.

Hyunjin followed suit, towering over you. your words stung, your assumptions weren’t true, and he could say that, but you wouldn’t believe him. he wasn’t gonna defile you in a frat closet anyway, you deserved so much better.

“i don’t wanna do this here either. let me-“

you didn’t let him finish, “i don’t like you.”

your eyes were soft, your tone shattered. nothing he could say would change your mind now. you hated him, you hated him so much, and yet you were getting lost in his eyes again. they were soft, solicit, lust-filled, and crushed. your eyes trailed down to his lips, the ones just glued to yours mere seconds ago. why couldn’t you think straight? you felt pathetic.

Hyunjin inched closer, wanting nothing more than to touch you again, kiss you again. “i don’t want you like this. let’s get out of here.”

you were hesitant, “don’t-“

and then someone started banging on the door, you unlocked it and stormed out. leaving some very confused guys peering in, and Hyunjin behind.

- end: part 1 ????

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[agoodflyting]

Why Aziraphale is completely ridiculous in the Bastille scene (and I love him so much for it)

A while ago I posted a comparison of Aziraphale and Crowley's costumes in the 1793 flashback in Good Omens and I wanted to add these little tidbits. (Because they haunt me.)

I feel like most people know this but IF YOU DON'T, Paris in 1793 is right in the middle of something called La Terreur.

HISTORY LESSON If you didn't learn this in school the French Revolution was when, after years of escalating social tension, a coalition representing the working classes of France revolted against the monarchy, violently overthrew King Louis XVI, and declared France to be a republic.

The new National Convention governing France ruled that King Louis XVI and his wife Marie Antoinette were traitors to the people of France because of how they had spent ridiculous amounts of money on luxuries for themselves while vast numbers of the lower classes were literally starving to death. (keep the bold in mind - wealth and class disparities were one of the key causes of the whole-ass revolution)

In 1793 (year of the flashback) both the King and Queen were executed by guillotine for their crimes.

This kicks of something called The Reign of Terror (La Terreur if you want to be French about it). A multi-year-long period in which the National Convention goes on a bloody witch hunt for any and every member of the middle or upper classes who could even possibly be considered a traitor by those same standards.

If you A) had money or privilege, and B) had ever used your money or privilege to treat yourself, you were getting executed. Over 25,000 people died during the Reign of Terror, half of them by guillotine. In fact, the iconic guillotine was used because it was physically impossible to keep up with the sheer number of people they were executing in Paris every single day.

Some things that could get you killed (actually and completely seriously) during the Reign of Terror:

Implying in any way you were sympathetic to the monarchy

Having a noble title

Having expensive things

Wearing expensive, luxurious clothes (*cough* AZIRAPHALE)

helping or sympathizing with anyone who did any of the above

a working-class person saying you were mean to them once

And then there's this bitch...

I AM NOBILITY PLEASE KILL ME So we have established that Paris in 1793 is in the middle of a frenzied, state-sanctioned bloodbath in which the working classes are massacring everyone even remotely nobility-adjacent. And in the middle of this frenzy, Aziraphale proceeds to roll up in Paris in this outfit:

How will this outfit get him killed? Let me count the ways...

First off- at this point everyone with even the tiniest shred of self- preservation is hiding the fact that they are in any way associated with the monarchy. The wealthy are straight-up abandoning mansions. The middle-class are plastering over decorations to make their house look 'poor'. The only people dressed remotely decent are the guys leading the National Convention and that's just because nobody can stop them. Everyone else is in 24/7 peasant cosplay or else they are covering themselves in cockades and sashes on to show they're pro-Republic.

Aziraphale is basically a giant shiny white sign saying I AM NOBILITY PLEASE KILL ME.

First off the lace jabot and lace cuffs are both associated with the old-school wealthy in the 1790's.

His coat is also decorated in gold braid and silver buttons, which are both marks of wealth and luxury.

He basically looks like he works for Louis XIV - not just rich, but old school rich.

We know it's his natural hair color, but hair powdering (with clay and starch) had been a big trend with the rich all throughout the 18th century to get that clean white venerable look . To someone who doesn't know it's natural, it would very much look like he's wearing hair powder.

He's wearing shades of cream and white, which are very hard to keep clean and clearly states that the wearer is rich and can afford the upkeep necessary to keep an outfit like that stain-free.

He's wearing white knee-breeches and stockings, also called culottes. See above about laundry and how rich you had to be to wear white, but also working-class men wore long pants like this:

A large faction involved in the Revolution were the Sans-Culottes (no-culottes aka we wear long pants LIKE GOOD OLD WORKING MEN). Culottes are specifically associated with everything the revolution hated. That's right - Aziraphale is literally wearing The Fanciest of Fancy Pants in a city where a group called The Men Against Fancy Pants are running around murdering people.

And then there are his shoes.

Oh god his shoes

I could do a whole post about Aziraphale's blessed little white satin pumps and how ridiculous they are.

Actually I might just do that because this is getting so long and I still have to talk about the brioche.

So I can't remember if it's in the script book or if it's from Neil Gaiman's tumblr, but it's apparently canon (?) that Aziraphale was going around in that outfit asking people where he could get crepes and brioche when he was arrested.

The Affair of the Brioches

So... uh... we've all heard the line attributed to Marie Antoinette- how when she was told that her people were starving because there was no bread left in Paris, she famously said...

It's morphed into 'let them eat cake', but the line is first recorded as, "Then let them eat brioches."

While it's unlikely she ever actually said it, the important thing is that... people in 1793 would have thought she said it. It was used as political smear to show how arrogant and out of touch the monarchy was. Marie Antoinette in particular was reviled by the people of France, who thought she was the main cause of their economic problems. That's why she was executed too.

Bread and brioche and the lines between poverty and privilege were a big thing in Revolutionary France. There was a lot of political connotation to what you ate. The French Revolution came about because of decades of suffering among the lower classes of France. It wasn't something that some dudes just decided to do. The people of Paris have been through years of the absolute worst, most oppressive poverty and starvation you can imagine, all while watching the rich throw money around crazy.

So let us recap.

Aziraphale is dressed so ridiculously posh that he looks like a joke parody of a nobleman... and he is bumbling around Paris during the Reign of Terror. Asking people. For brioche. How I imagine everyone looked at him:

It is so astoundingly tone deaf and tactless. He is basically cosplaying as Marie Antoinette and then going around asking the poor for cake.

I just.... Aziraphale. babygirl. no. oh no. You're lucky they even bothered to take you to prison. I am amazed Crowley ever let him live that down.

I have no conclusion other than this. Aziraphale is ridiculous and I love him so much.

YES YOU REALLY SHOULD SIR.

[evie-sturns]

Please - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you've never been interested in sex, not until you met your boyfriend matt. when you ask him to take your virginity he obviously gives you what you ask for.

contains: virgin!reader, gentle!matt, virginity loss, fluff, smut, aftercare, fingering.

-----------------------------------------------------------

i'm a virgin, it's not like i have a real reason for it, but i've never found a guy i could trust.

matt and i have been dating for 2 months and we've done just about everything, execpt for hooking up. matt's never pushed me to do anything which i appreciate. but now that i've got to know matt i've been craving him, his touch.

7:29pm

i cuddle close to matt's side in bed as i stare at his phone, i watch him scroll through tiktok aimlessly.

i look up at matts side profile, a light stubble spread across his jaw. his blue eyes are locked on his screen.

i move my leg over matt's, shifting closer to him so my crotch is pressed against the side of his leg.

i sigh lightly, closing my eyes as i feel a heat grow between my thighs.

it's the way matt's lips are red, almost begging to be kissed that turns me on.

i don't even realise it, but i'm pathetically rubbing my clit against his leg.

"you okay sweetheart?" matt whispers from above me,

"what-? no i'm fine." i play it off,

matt places his phone down before shifting up, his back resting against the headboard.

matt grabs me under my arms and drags me up onto his lap, i straddle him and look down at him

matt just stares into my eyes like hes waiting for me to say something.

"matt.." i mutter, fidgeting with the ties of his sweatpants.

he looks at my lips, nodding understandably.

"i think that i want you to touch me, i- i need you." i say softly,

matt rubs his eyes, hes clearly flustered.

"what?" he says with a small laugh.

"matt don't make me say it again." i sigh, reaching my hands up and covering my face.

"tell me what you want and i'll give it to you y/n." matt says, grabbing my wrists and tugging them away from my pink face.

i hesitate for a second before speaking

"i want you to fuck me matt." i spit out, matt smiles lightly

"i can definitely do that for you," matt speaks, earning a playful slap from me.

matt reaches for the hem of my shirt, tugging it lightly. i grab his hand to stop him for a second.

"matt- i'm a virgin." i whisper, matt's eyes widen

"thats okay! thats perfectly fine." matt nods, making me feel better. "are you sure you want to do this? we don't have to if you're not ready."

"i don't really know what i'm doing." i mumble, matt nods before grabbing my chin, making me look at him.

i adjust myself on matt's lap to make myself comfortable.

"do you ever.. touch yourself?" matt asks quietly,

"um- i don't know." i reply shyly.

"you don't know?" he teases, earning a small giggle from me.

"yes- yeah i do, shut up-" i laugh, "how often?" matt asks

"every week or so- maybe." i whisper, matt nods before sitting up off the headboard.

he stands up, holding me up by my ass as he starts to mark up my neck with hickeys. matt lays me down on the matress and takes a step back. he reaches out his cold hand to the waistband of my sweat-shorts.

"can i take these off pretty girl?" he asks softly, i nod frantically "yeah- yes."

he slowly slides my shorts down my thighs, keeping a straight face the whole time.

he chucks them to the side of the room, i dont waste time to tug off my shirt aswell,

leaving me in my matching white lace bra and panties on the bed under matt, suddenly the realisation hits that this is actually happening. i shoot up into a seated position quickly,

"hey- you okay?" matt laughs slightly,

"matt" my voice wobbles, concern washes over his face.

"whats going baby-?" he speaks with worry laced in his voice

"im scared." i whisper out, he sits down on the bed next to me, "what if it hurts- and i'm not gonna be good at this matt- i don't know what to do well" i ramble out

"you don't have to be good, you dont have to do anything, you can just lay back and i'll talk you through it, would you like that?" matts voice is gentle,

"and it won't hurt, i promise."

i nod with a shaky sigh, he grabs my jaw and presses his lips against mine.

"right- so what's going to happen is i'm going to stretch 'ya out a little first is that okay?" matts tone is more gentle and understanding now.

"okay." i mumble, laying back on the matress as my legs dangle off the edge of the bed.

matt kneels between my legs, he gently pulls my panties down my legs while his cold finger tips trace circles on my inner thighs.

"you're gonna take two fingers for me?" matt says, i sink my top teeth into my bottom lip with a small giggle.

he presses the pad of his finger against my hole, he slowly pushes his large finger inside of me.

the cold metal of his rings against the warmth of my walls makes me squirm already.

matt doesnt waste time to push another finger inside of me, the stretch burns.

i've only ever fingered myself, my fingers are significantly smaller than matts so the feeling is different.. better.

he curls his fingers inside of me, repeatedly hitting a spot which is making the knot in my stomach clench.

"matt- oh my god!" i whimper out as he spreads his fingers apart inside of me. "it feels so good-" i babble,

i squeeze my eyes shut,

my eyes instantly spring back open as i feel matt's soft lips against my clit.

my hands instantly find there way to his brunette locks, my fingers intertwine into them.

i clench around his fingers again as he curls them

suddenly he pulls out of me, edging me completley

"matt!-" i start to protest, but he shushes me

"sh- sh i know, don't want you to cum yet cause we don't want to overstimulate you baby" matt says softly, tugging down his sweatpants.

there is a various obvious bulge in his sweatpants, i squeeze my thighs together as i look at it. matt runs a hand through his hair before tugging down his boxers, letting them fall to his ankles.

i sit up on my elbows as i stare at his erection, he is big.

very big.

"matt- how is that meant to fit inside of me- you said it wasn't going to hurt" i start to ramble, matt lets out a small laugh

"don't boost my ego." he laughs while rubbing his eyes

"matt seriously! the most i've ever had was your fingers which was like- 2 minutes ago!" i whine

"you'll be okay, i promise" matt chuckles,

"just lay back for me, you can hold my hand." matt says,

holding matt's hands and fingers have always been an anxiety response for me, he knows its comforting to me thats why he lets me whenever i'm scared.

he grabs my hand as i lay back, he grabs his base with his spare hand and lines himself up with me. "are you sure?" he asks again,

"yes- please!" i say impatiently,

he presses his tip, but nothing happens. "are you in?" i breathe out, he shakes his head

matt hesitates for a second before letting my hand go, he walks over to his closet.

"what-" i whisper, he turns back around with a bottle of lube in his hand which he holds shyly.

"its not gonna be comfortable for you if we don't have this." matt says to me as he squeezes some of the cold liquid out onto my folds

he reaches down and spreads some on his length, "lets try this again" he laughs.

matt grabs my hand again before pushing inside of me, i let out a wince.

"you're doing so well, so good for me baby, you've taken the tip." matt praises me,

"do you want more?" he asks teasingly, "yes- please" i beg

matt presses further into me, my walls stretch around him as i let out loud moans, somewhat pleasured but also a mix of pain.

he finally bottoms out, a low whimper falling from his red lips. "are you feeling okay?" his voice shakes

"i- i don't know." i laugh slightly, "do you want me to move?" matt asks, rubbing my fingers with his hand.

"yes- i think so" i smile at him stupidly before matt thrusts, he does small thrusts, being careful not to go too deep.

"you are- so fucking tight." matt says under his breath.

after several thrusts the pain goes away, now pleasure coarses through my body.

"i- oh my fuck, this feels s-so good" i stammer,

"youre taking me so well, you know you are." he says, locking eyes with me.

"you feel so good around me princess, so so good." matt's voice wobbles, he's holding back everything he has to not cum now.

i arch my back with a pathetic moan, feeling a familiar feeling in my stomach come back. matt places an arm by my head, caging me slightly.

"matt- oh fuck" i whine, squeezing his hand impossibly tight. i feel matt's dick twitch inside of me as his cheeks flush red.

abrubtly the knot in my stomach snaps, i didn't even realise it was coming until it did.

i clench hard around matt and feel warmth flow through my whole body, i release with a loud scream of his name as i claw at his back.

matt pulls out almost instantly, painting my chest and neck with white, my eyes widen as i sit up, but i instantly fall back down onto my back,

"shit i- i am so sorry for that aim" matt laughs

he reaches his palm out and wipes my neck clean, before collapsing down next to me.

"i love you so much matt" i mumble sleepily.

"i love you too princess" matt grins, pulling me close to his side. he pecks my face with kisses.

"im sorry for finishing so fast, i didn't even know it was coming-" i start up, matt shuts me up with a hand over my mouth

"im actually glad you finished fast, i was literally battling inner demons to not finish as soon as i started fucking you." matt breathes out.

-------------

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover r @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @chrisgetsmewetterxo @mattsonly @justalittle47 @mattsturnioloisbae @sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @pkfferoo @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21

[k9wa]

⟁ 7:14 PM ft BOOTHILL.

⠀ — braiding his hair bc my brain is rotting and i miss him.

⚠︎ fluff, thats really it, mechanic!reader but its not really relevant, suggestive if you squint and cover one eye and hang upside down. gn reader, wc 860.

boothill's head was lulled back between a pair of soft, comfy thighs, eyes a content and lazy half lidded as he felt some familiar calloused and precise fingers detangling little pieces of his hair. the sun was almost down past the horizon, and the last few warm rays peeking out left the room hued a gentle orange colour, its two inhabitants bathing in it.. 

he felt a slight tug here and there as you worked your magic, taking the knots out of those long white locks with patient fingers.

“you have such pretty hair.”

you mused quietly, combing out another strand with your nails. boothill's lips tugged up lightly in a gentle smirk— a hint of pride washing over him. he was a bigger sucker for praise than he’d ever admit.

“well, it’s gotta look good if it’s gonna match th’rest of me.” he drawled, voice a low rumble filled with a certain ease that rarely surfaced— well, rarely with others, anyway. he received a playful tug of his hair in response.boothill leaned back a bit more, trying to catch a glimpse of your endearing focussed expression.

he was slowly melting against your deft fingertips, silently whirring internals mimicking the quiet purr of a cat as you twirled a piece around your finger. 

“can i braid it?” you asked simply, already sectioning out a few strands at the top. 

“do whatever you want, sugar.” he granted with a little shrug, smirk still playing on his lips. “reckon a braid’ll help keep it from flyin’ into my eyes so much.”

he felt the rhythmic crossing of each strand as you began to braid, every brush of your nails against his scalp sending a pleasant shiver right through his wires.

“y’know,” he opened, voice still that gravely tone you could never get enough of. “ain’t nobody else i’d sit still for like this.” he admitted, brashness taking a backseat to give way to a tenderness reserved for one person only.

“yeah?” you smiled a bit, continuing to braid. “just for me, huh?”

boothill couldn’t help but let out a scruff, throaty chuckle, vibrations running through his chest.“just for you, darlin’.” he echoed.

 “you’ve got a magic touch, i s’ppose,” his eyes shut briefly. “could get used to this.”

the melodic and methodic movements of your fingers were earnestly making him drowsy, a soothing lullaby that laced and weaved around him in the same patterns as his hair. 

“like being pampered?” you teased playfully, earning a chuckle from him.

“you just got a way of makin’ a man feel real special. that’s all.”

your fingers kept slowly crossing and twisting strands.

“you should let me curl it some day,” you suggested, amusing yourself with the thought of him dawning a bunch of puffy ringlets. “you’d look like ‘genti.”

boothill's low laughter echoed quietly in the room, a deep sound that harmonised with your own. 

“now that’d be somethin’ to see,” he admitted with a playful scoff. “ol’ boothill with curls bouncin’ around like some dandy.”

he shook his head as he pictured it, and you had to flick his cheek to remind him to look straight.

“i'd sport some curls if it meant i get to see you smilin’.”

you smiled fondly at that, taking a small hair tie and wrapping it around the tail of his braid.

“you’re sweeter than you let on.” you reached around to fix his bangs a little bit. 

“there.” you tilted his head up a bit to look at him, feigning shock. “well, ain’t you pretty?”

hearing his own southern drawl echoed back to him made the cowboy snort. “ain’t i just the belle of the ball now?”

boothill's hand instinctively reached back to feel your handiwork, prosthetic fingers tracing along the weaves of his hair.

“mighty fine job, sugar plum.” he commended, turning around to face you on his knees, hands sliding up your thighs until they met behind your back in a careful hug around your waist. he looked up at you— really looked at you, that mushy softness in him pushing out through the cracks you always left in his defences. 

“thanks, darlin’.” he said quietly, those red cruciform pupils locked in on your own. “means more’en you might know, you spendin’ your time fussin’ over me like this.”

the cyborg’s head fell comfortably down in your lsp, nuzzling into you.

“i think fussing over you is a full time job,” you teased lightly, a smile evident in your voice. “not that i mind.”

one of your hands traced the mechanical connections of his arm, all the way up until your fingers gave a gentle brush to his cheek.

boothill let out a breathy chuckle, some air fanning across your tummy. his fingers, a soothing and smooth cool metal, traced little shapes along your lower back.

“well, i reckon i oughta start payin’ you overtime for such dedication.” he quipped quietly, demeanour playful yet earnest as always.

“paying me to start might be better.” you gave a playful pinch to his cheek.  

“i got a few ideas for how i can pay ya,” he teased back, giving a little nip to your thigh.

⠀ MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[nyzfiles]

first time - nyz

synopsis - you and yizhuo have been dating for 7 months and tonight is the night she finally decides to lose her virginity to you

warnings - smut (minors and men dni !)

tags - virgin!yizhuo x experienced!fem reader, nipple stimulation, cunnilingus (both receiving), praising, body worshipping, cunnilingus (both receiving), fingering (yizhuo receiving), sideways 69, scissoring

word count - 1.5k

the movie you guys had put on earlier drones on in the background as yizhuo sits on your lap on the bed of blankets you had made on the floor of the living room. your arm is around her and your other hand is cupping her cheek as you make out. her lips taste like peaches (a flavor you've gotten very familiar with over the last 7 months), and her body is pressed tightly against yours.

you met yizhuo at a flower shop down the street from your apartment. you couldn't take your eyes off of her. her dark hair was shining and the light coming in through the windows glinted off of it. she looked as if she were a flower in there, surrounded by blooms of every color. you couldn't resist. you walked over and introduced yourself.

she was shy for the first few months of your relationship, always wondering if she was doing things right. after around three months of dating she bloomed, showing you how affectionate, funny, and truly wonderful she is. around month four was when she revealed she was a virgin during a heated make-out session. it didn't come as a surprise after seeing how long it took her to open up to you and you immediately knew that you would make sure she felt comfortable around you.

these thoughts swim around your head as her mouth parts, allowing your tongue access to drink her in. her soft mewls of pleasure making your arousal pool in your panties. you pull back slightly, not wanting to push things further. yizhuo pouts, leaning forward to press a delicate kiss against your lips. "if we don't stop now we probably never will." you tease, faces just mere inches from each other as you hold her in your lap.

she nods slightly, finger tracing the outline of your collarbone. "i want you...tonight." she confesses, shifting around on your lap to ease the throbbing between her thighs. your grip around her tightens as you hear her say those words. "baby, we don't have to do that. i want you to be 100% positive." you assure her, pressing a soft kiss to her nose. she shakes her head, taking your hands in her's. "i trust you. i want you." she says, desperation laced in her voice.

you nod, playing with the hem of her shirt before slowly removing it. your eyes drinking in every inch of skin, your hands caressing her bare stomach. she shivers, leaning into your touch as your head dips down and kisses the base of her nick. her head tilts back, exposing the column of her throat to you. you trail soft kisses up her neck, leaving marks in your wake as your hand goes to cup her breast. she gasps, the touch making her stomach tighten.

you reach around her, hand stopping at the clasp of her bra. "can i?" you ask, wanting to give her every chance to change her mind. "please..." she whines breathlessly, starting to feel impatient. you undo her bra, watching as it falls to reveal her perfectly shaped tits. you groan, cupping both in your hands and swiping your thumbs over her hard nipples. she moans, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she watches you. "you're so beautiful..." you mutter, completely entranced by her. she blushes, shying away from you slightly.

you gently lay her against the pillows on your makeshift floor bed, moving her hands from covering her tits. "i want to see you." you tell her, kissing the palms of her hands. her cheeks flush pink, her nerves starting to melt away. you lean your head down, lips attaching to her nipple while your hand goes to her other one, pinching it lightly. she whimpers, fingers threading through your hair as you suck and swirl your tongue around her nipple. her little noises go straight to your core, the dampness in your panties increasing. you release her nipple with a pop, turning your attention to her other one.

trailing kisses down her body, you make sure to leave no area untouched as she writhes beneath you. your fingers trace the outline of her leggings, toying with it. "ready?" you ask, making sure to get consent again. she nods eagerly, chest rising and falling with anticipation. you pull them down past her hips, hooking your thumbs in her panties and taking them both all the way off. you spread her thighs apart, mouth watering at the sight of her exposed cunt. "so pretty for me..." you mumble, fingers spreading her folds apart.

you settle yourself between her thighs, blowing lightly on her aching cunt. she whines, wriggling her hips in your gasp. "please, y/n..." she begs, lacing her fingers through your hair. you smile, leaning in and licking a long stripe from her hole to her clit. she moans loudly, pussy clenching around nothing. "tastes so good." you praise, lips wrapping around her clit and sucking. she lets out a high pitched shriek, gripping your hair tightly as you suck and swirl your tongue around her clit.

her hips grind against your face, frantically chasing her release as her arousal seeps out of her. you take two fingers, gently pressing them to her entrance before easing them into her. she arches her back, walls clenching tightly around your fingers as you release her clit with a pop, flicking your tongue against it. her whimpers of pleasure mixed with the sounds of you licking her clit and fingering her tight cunt fill the living room. her stomach tightens and her walls flutter around your fingers, head thrown back in pleasure. "oh god...i think i'm cumming...y/n!" she squeals, pressing your face closer to her cunt as she twitches. "that's it baby, you're taking my fingers so well." you coo, licking her clit and pumping your fingers slowly as she rides out her high.

her head lays against the pillow, panting softly as she tries to regain her breath. your lips travel up her body, finally resting on her lips as you pull her close. "think you have more in you?" you smile, hand resting on her ass. "i want to do something for you." she confesses, looking up at you expectantly. "we can try this." you nod, guiding her hands to the hem of your shirt so she can undress you. her hands caress your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. as soon as your clothes are off you instruct her to lay on her side before laying on the opposite end of her. you spread her thighs resting your head on one and she does the same to you.

your tongue slips in to her already wet hole, causing a moan to escape her lips. she eagerly presses a kiss to your clit, humming against it as she tastes you. you curl your tongue inside her, moaning against her cunt as she sucks on your clit with fervor. you grip her tighter, your nose grazing her clit as you tongue fuck her. she whimpers, releasing your clit and lapping at it with her tongue. your hips instinctively buck against her and you purposefully rub your nose against her clit while you bury your tongue deep inside her cunt. her thighs shake around your head, her soft cries stimulating your clit as her cum coats your tongue. you groan, gripping her ass as your arousal spills out of you with your release. she gives your clit soft kitten licks as you ride out your high.

within a few minutes you have her propped against some pillows, cunts grinding against each other. her whimpers cause you to speed up, the pressure of your clits rubbing against each other making you both see stars. "god, your pussy feels so good on mine. you're so good to me, baby." you praise her, gripping her leg as your folds slide together. she cries softly, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly. "i love you." she moans breathlessly, her arousal soaking the both of you. "i love you too, baby. so much." you affirm, kissing her hand and picking up your pace. she whimpers, eyes squeezing shut as her orgasm builds low in her stomach. "i'm gonna cum!" she squeals, hips bucking against yours. "me too, baby. cum with me." you encourage, slowing down a little but keeping the pressure. she lets out a loud moan, your sounds of pleasure mixing with hers as you both cum on each other cunts.

she lays against the pillows, panting softly as her body glistens with sweat. you move off of her, quickly going to the bathroom to grab her a warm washcloth and then a water bottle out of the fridge. once you return you lay down next to her, gently wiping the washcloth between her thighs and handing her the water bottle. "you did so well, baby. i'm so proud of you." you praise, kissing her sweetly. she smiles, wrapping her arms around your neck. "thank you for taking such good care of me." she mumbles, settling in your embrace.

[verinarin]

Debate turned into him fucking you until you’re speechless

Someone needs to lower his ego, that's where you come in and he doesn't like the fact that you dare challenge him one bit nsfw; rivals to lovers, hate fucking, breeding kink, belly bulge [Reposted]

Veritas absolutely despises you, outsmarting him, but he finds a way to actually turn you into an idiot once in a while…

It started off with a heated argument that leads into you sitting on his desk, legs spread open while his mouth pressed kisses against your inner thigh, biting it also to mark what eventually would be his

“What the hell are you doing Veritas !,” you whine, trying to kick him off which he easily dodge, he pushes your ankle to your chest with a huge grin

He leans forward as he presses both of your thighs to your chest, nestling closely to your neck. “I want to fuck your thoughts away, keep you nice and dumb, that’s what I’m trying to achieve here,”

“As if you could succeed at doing so, you can’t even refute my argument earlier,” you were referencing to the debate he lost, oh you’re rubbing grounded salt to his wounds, he does not take that kindly

He’s now kneeling down, his hands still gripping tightly on your plush thighs, so tight that it made you wince. His eyes glaring at your face, like a promise…

A promise to make you fall for him, to make you intoxicated by his presence, to make you his

“Watch me,” and with that he presses a kiss on your clothed clit, sucking the nerve earns him the very first noise that he actually enjoys coming out from your smart mouth, your moans

You felt embarrassed to not be able to hold in your moan like that, not when he’s so filthy. Licking stripes over your clothed cunt, making the fabric transparent

“H-haaah how nghhh disgusting, for someone who has bathing as their favourite activity to do, you’re so filthy nghhahh,” you try to regain your dignity by a nasty remark that’s proven to be in vain

He just laughs which makes things worse then they are, “If you want me to clean this leaking hole afterwards just say so, no need to act so elusive,”

“You talk to much, here if I do this…” he slid your panties to the side and push the tip of his tongue inside your glistening cunt

Tasting you directly onto his tongue is like Adam tasting the forbidden fruit, for someone whose words laced with insults you’re so fucking sweet

He never was interested in pursuing his filthy human desires, but thanks to you he now finds himself a forbidden fruit of his own

“Mnhmm” you try so hard not to succumb towards your carnal desires after all lust is one of the 7 deadly sins

Veritas however does not take your resistance kindly, you’re so adamant on denying yourself from the pleasure he could give. He scoffs as he places one of his hand to keep your thighs at place while the other pinches your clit

He effortlessly pry your moans out of your mouth, not only that he also effectively turn you into a trembling mess “Now that’s a sight!, perhaps I should sculpt this moment and display it on my personal quarters,”

“F-fucking pervert,” you spat, he just laughs at your lust ridden face. His eyes staring straight at yours before he smirks, standing up with ease to lean forward towards your neck

He starts to motion his fingers up and down against your wet hole with a sickening smile on his face “50 points, you’re halfway correct. I’m no pervert,”

“But I am someone that will fuck you,” without wasting any time he slid his index finger into your cunt, “How tight !, it seems that I have to give your cunt more stimulation…” he whispers against your neck

“Nghh just fuck me already,” you huff impatiently, you can’t afford to waste anymore of your time with trivial matters such as lust, but aeons he does make you falter

He scoffs, how dare you push him around. Isn’t pushing him around at the guild enough for you, he’s just being nice for a change knowing that if he didn’t prepare your tight hole well enough you would scream in pain

Perhaps he wants to see that pained expression of your mixed with pleasure, ahh he’s getting ahead of himself

There’s always next time after all…

“Now now I think you want me to take my time with you, you’ll understand what I mean later,” he smiles as he slid one more of his fingers, filling you up quite nicely

“Oh wow how cocky you- ahhh~” he silenced that quirky remark you’re going to make by thrusting his fingers in methodically only to help you climax as fast as possible since you are so impatient, once he meets your g-spot it was all over for you

Your moans decorates the room as he curved his fingers upwards towards your g-spot while his other hand presses down on where your womb would be

“S-shit ahhhn m’cumming Veri,” suddenly he stops, you were so close yet he fucking stops

“Ahh that’s cute, call me once more than I’ll let you have it,” he smiles as he pulls his fingers out and and brings it to your mouth

You quickly lapped down your juice while maintaining eye contact with him, your dignity be dammed you could only feel your need to cum right now “Veri please make me cum,”

“Ahhh I wish you would be this submissive everyday, not picking meaningless debates and just let me pleasure this pussy” he huffs as he tap his fingers on your clit twice before sliding it back in

“Thank you thank you thank you,” you whine as he picks the pace of his fingers up letting you cum all over his desk in a instant

“Wow I guess you can say thank you,” he sarcastically reply as he unzip his pants and free his leaking cock, the tip is red and wanting

Okay now your understand why he took his time with you because without foreplay his cock is going to hurt, hell even with foreplay you still think there’s a chance of if hurting

He sense your worry of course, he leans forward as he rest his cock against your stomach. Aeons it’s soo big that the length went pass your bellybutton…

“You might hate me but I don’t hate you so don’t you worry, I’ll take it slow and yes it’ll fit,” he smirks before kissing your forehead

Oh shit if he keeps this up, you might fall for him…

“I don’t hate you, I just think someone needs to keep in check on that huge ego of yours. Do not fret I’m always here to lower it into basic human standards,” you scoffs, which he replies with a laugh of his own

“Sounds beneficial, I am told to be quite the narcissist perhaps you could keep me in line,” he smiles as he press a kiss on the side of your lips.

“Yes I believe so,” you mumble feeling dizzy from his gentle kisses

He leans let his lips close to yours, it barely touches as he spoke “May I kiss you ?,”

You don’t even answer, you looped your arms around his neck and force his lips onto your which accepts with a smile, his tender kiss somehow made his cock twitch against your skin

Snaking your hand towards his cock, lathering his precum towards his length earns you a delicious moan against the kiss “Ahhhn what a minx”

With that he slid his cock towards your clit, tapping his tip right onto the sensitive nerve as payback, you could only whine as he tease you. He teases for the sole purpose of breaking your ego, to make you beg for him, but it proves to be rather hard because he’s faltering at the mere pleasure of friction

“Feels so good like this, ahh can’t wait till I feel how tight you’re going to be,” he whines as he grinds his full length against your slippery hole, he needs to hold his length by the base or else it might accidentally slip inside you

“Fuck !, no one’s stopping you put it in damn it,” you groan as you try to guide his tip into your hole

“So bossy,” he smirks, he wants to just slam into you just to shut you up. It’ll be painful to do so and it seems you’re to cockdrunk to make any decisions

Because of that he finally slid his length in without waiting for you to beg, he doesn’t want you to shove his length in without the controlling the length you could handle after all

“Mnghh ahhh so bigg,” see this proves his point, even though he would like to ram it into your tight hole in one swift move, he doesn’t want to break your cunt

At least not the first time he fucks you…

With a huff he slowly thrust himself inch by inch, “Fuck, this is why you need to learn patience shit so fucking tight, relax dearest or else it’s not going to fit,”

Your eyes starts to produce tears because of the sheer pain and pleasure, he leans down to kiss the tears from you face, whispering words of encouragement as he slowly thrust his full length inside you, balls deep

“Shit you feel this,” he drags your weak hand across the eminent bulge on your stomach, “This is why I was adamant about preparing your tight hole for me,”

He slides out before thrusting back in to further prove his earlier hypothesis “Do you understand ?, how easily I could break this hole,”

“Y-yeshh understood sirr, too big f’me,” oh you’re already dumb on his cock, how cute he thought

“Can you hold your thighs keep it pressed against your breast for me?,” he asks which you do without any hesitation, he could see it clearly now, his cock dragging itself in and out

For you on the other, you feel his tip kissing your cervix because of this position, all of your thoughts are currently postponed ever since that cock enters your cunt

All you can do is hold your thighs as he pounds into you, he starts to pick up the pace once your pained moans turns into you begging him to go harder

Of course he’s not going to deny you such pleasure

“So tight fuck, I ruined other cocks for you from now on,” you could only reply with a nod as he shook your whole body

Thrusting himself in a angle that’s abuses your g-spot making you cum with every single deep thrust, “Fuckk can’t stop cummingghh,”

“That’s the plan sweetheart, you won’t stop coming until I say so, am I not generous?,” he chuckles breathlessly as he toy with your clit with every thrust

“Fuck you know if I breed you, make you carry my child. I think our genetics would be unparalleled, both of us are intelligent and attractive, ahh what a fine specimen we would make don’t you think so ?,” he rambles as he come close to his release

He knew very well you just nodded without thinking much, the thought of cumming inside you, breeding your cunt very hard to not decline

“Ahh you just nodded because you’re cockdrunk, I can’t have you pregnant now, not when I love our meaningless bickering about our difference of opinions, I’ll fuck…you’re not patient but I am fuck…I’m going to make you my fucking research partner my everything I will actually put a ring on that pretty finger of yours and then put a baby in…you’re gonna let me right?,” he mutters as his cock kisses your cervix

His grip your thighs pressing folding you to reach deeper “This is a trial examination, let’s see how deep you could take,” he chuckles as he delves deep into your cunt

All you can do is lie there and moan as he pounds deep into you, making vulgar noises between the sounds of your skin slapping against each other

“Shit I’m gonna cum fuckk,” he whines before pulling out and stroking his cock right against your skin, exactly where your womb is supposed to be “Here let me mark your skin right here, hahah to manifest our future,” he whines as he shoot his seed right against the skin, marking the outside of your womb

“Veri k-kisss,” you mumble as you await for his comfort, he took two more strokes finally finish, then he leans into your lips to give you a reward

“Now I need to clean you up, stay right there and let me run you a warm bath, you must be sore,” he says as he brush his hair back, thank god you both decide to do this at his house or else he can’t properly take care of you

You can’t even think anything anymore, he really did fuck the thought out of you, when you actually start to gather your thoughts you’re already surrounded by the lukewarm water and lavender flowers “Veri where am i?,”

“Ah you finally snapped out of your haze, I carried you to my bath remember ?,” he smiles as he’s currently sitting beside the tub lathering your arm with soap

You could only nod as you slowly succumb back towards the land of dreams “Hey don’t fall asleep on me now you might accidentally drown,” he scoffs

“Your fault for using lavender, it is well known to cure insomnia and to alleviate muscle pain,” you yawn as you try to stay awake

“Yes exactly to alleviate muscle pain, which is going to be you’re future diagnosis if I don’t take care of you properly,” he sighs, you both went back into bickering like a married couple

“To prevent me from accidentally drowning myself in your huge bathtub, why not join me ?, you’re also in need of relaxation,” you mumble, feeling a little bit flustered

“Well if the lady insists,” he smirks before undressing and dipping himself behind you, he drags you into his lap and rests you head your head shoulder as his hands massage your lower back “Feels good ?,” he whispers beside your ear

“Very,” you reply with a sigh, he presses a kiss on your forehead as he holds you massages your tense spot as a silent thank you of some sort, not wanting this moment of peace to end

For you however, you knew this man is forever bound his heart to yours from now on

[augustinewrites]

repost of an old drabble bcs shibuya arc is starting and i am thinking of nanami (head in hands sobbing)

“that was reckless of you. dangerous, even.”

nanami’s tone is firm yet gentle, but you recognize a reprimand when you hear one.

“i’m fine,” you insist, even as you lift the hem of your shirt to press the cloth to the edges of the cut on your side. it’s shallow, thankfully, but everytime you turn you know it’s going to sting. “isn’t that all that matters at the end of the day?”

“you very well could not have been.” there’s a vein of irritation lacing his voice, you aren’t sure if it’s directed at you or the situation, but it puts you on edge.

shifting a little on the countertop, you twist the tap on to run your cloth under cool water again. “yeah, well, the chances of me dying were low, anyway.”

“low, but not zero,” he says shortly, placing the first aid kit beside you. “if you’d just let me—”

“let you what, kento?” you snap, wringing the pink-tinged cloth over the sink. you can’t exactly blame him for being worried. shallow as the wound may be, the amount of blood that’s soaked through your shirt made it look a lot worse than it actually felt. “let you die?”

the straight line his mouth is pressed in twitches into a grimace. “that’s not the point.”

“you would have done the same for me, right?”

he doesn’t hesitate when he says, “of course.”

“then that’s the point,” you counter. “you look out for me, i look out for you. i don’t regret what i did.”

a frustrated sigh slips past his lips, and you hiss slightly as you press the cloth to the cut once more, trying to clean up the last of the blood. you’ll have to patch it up as best you can before going to see shoko, lest you bleed out on the way there.

you’re reaching for the first aid kit when nanami catches your wrist. his expression is hard to read as ever, but he’s watching you carefully, meeting your gaze with a hesitance that’s unlike him.

“it would be easier if i did it.”

wordlessly, you nod and let him take the cloth from you. nanami quietly moves to your side, letting you hold onto his shoulder while he lightly dabs at the edges of the cut. he does it so carefully, hands moving deftly and efficiently as he cleans up the mess on your skin, apologizing softly whenever you so much as wince.

you wonder, briefly, if this is the same man you know as the 7:3 sorcerer. as a fighter, he’s cold, ruthless. you’ve seen him slice through curses with the ease of a hot knife going through butter. you’ve seen him put his fist through the thickest of concrete, perform a black flash four consecutive times.

but this man, this torrential force of jujutsu sorcery, handles you so tenderly. delicately. as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter in his grasp.

“you shouldn’t do that again,” he murmurs as he cuts a strip of gauze and a few pieces of medical tape.

“almost get my side split open by a curse?” you chuckle. “i don’t plan to, no.”

his lips turn down into a frown as he carefully smooths the gauze onto your cut. “don’t sacrifice yourself like that for me. please.”

the playful smile on your face is quick to fade. “sacrifice? i took a blow i knew would be non-lethal.”

he shakes his head, pulling back to let your hand fall from his shoulder. “non-lethal this time, but what if there’s a next time? you shouldn’t risk your life to make up for my own shortcomings as a sorcerer. if i lost you–”

your brows raise when he cuts himself off, clearing his throat and trying again. “if the school lost you, it’d be rather unfortunate.”

“for the school?” you repeat.

he shrugs as he begins packing away the supplies. “they’d be stuck with gojo as their sole teacher.” there’s a blush bleeding past the collar of your his as he averts his gaze, and for some reason, it makes you smile.

“well, we don’t want that, do we?” you ask softly, slipping off the counter and patting his bicep. “come on, i’m going to need a ride to the school to see shoko.”

nanami just nods, his hand automatically moving to your lower back, gently guiding you out the door.

“gojo isn’t that bad of a teacher,” you say off-handedly.

his gaze briefly flicks to yours, as if to check if you’re serious.

you can’t hold back the laughter fighting its way up your throat, and nanami cracks an amused grin, chuckling, “i didn’t believe you for a second. handling him without you is…taxing.”

you nudge him slightly. “so you admit you need me, huh?”

the hand on your back circles around your waist, carefully pulling you closer. “more than you know.”

[wanderingsimsfinds]

WanderingSims Fave CC - Teen Female List

1-2, 15 - Anzuchansims - CloudCat OneLastKiss Top Long Sleeves, Short Sleeves, & Skirt

3 - Nightospheresims - dissia Penelope Top

4-6, 18 Nightospheresims - jellymoo Grim Hoodie, Undead Tee, Zinc Tee, & Ghoul Skirt

7-8, 36 - Nightospheresims - Serenity Cate Top, Taylor Top, & Taylor Pants

9-10 - Nightospheresims - babytears Horror Void Sweater & Star Top

11, 59, 64 - AmerikoSteelie - Satellite 4t3 Elliesimple Cropped Sweater Top, SkittleSims 4t3 Elliesimple Midi Dress, & RolloRolls 4t3 Elliesimple Angel Dress

12 - polaesims - Serenity Barbie Fluffy Sweater

13-14, 46-47, 67-68, 72, 83-86, 88-89 - AmerikoSteelie - 4t3 Rimings Lazy Sunday Crop Top + Shorts, 4t3 AdriendPastel Keira Outfit, 4t3 Rimings Autumn School Uniform Outfit, 4t3 Rimings Summer Poison Midi Dress, 4t3 Arltos Evening Dress, 4t3 Rimings Summer Poison Swimsuit, 4t3 Jius Bowknot Hell Pumps, 4t3 Jius Bowknot Platform Loafers 01, 4t3 Jius Daisy Sandals 01, 4t3 Jius Y2K Loafers With Leg Warmers, Platform Leather Sandals, & 4t3 Arltos Geta Kimono Shoes

16-17 - SimSongs - Rusty Taylor Jacket & Belted Trousers

19-20, 45, 65, 80 - AmerikoSteelie - SugarSSims 4t3 BRS Sugar Skirt + Top, PuChiHouse School Uniform, R0ach3z 4t3 Serenity Lolly Dress, & UWillNeverFindMe 4t3 KK404 Japanese Kimono

21-23 - Nightospheresims - AxA Olivia Skirt & Trillkye Moonwalk Pajamas Top + Pants

24, 48 - AmerikoSteelie - simsoficeandfire 4t3 LazyEyelids Denim Miniskirt & simsoficeandfire 4t3 NitroPanic Cute ASF Dress

25 - VMSims - 4t3 School Korean Uniform Fem Skirt 2 + 2b

26-29 - KotaJose - Pleated Skirt + Loose Slacks & Kristal Leggings + Skinny Jeans

30 - SuteFlower - Gorilla3x Basic Jeans

31, 62 - RStar - Strada Jeans & Enchanted Dress

32-33 - elvgreen - Elliesimple Straight Levi's Bottom & Clumsyalien Riona Bottom

34 - xxbomixx - b0t0xbrat Dark Cargo Pants

35 - MickeyMouseClubhouss - Orion Sweatpants

37 - teekapoa - EP11 Bottom Edit

38-42 - Anzuchansims - CloudCat Avalon Outfit V1 + V2 & CloudCat Blight Outfit Jacket + Outfit & Marigold Ribbon Strap Off Shoulder Sweatshirts Dress

43 - VMSims - 4t3 Korean Girls School Uniform

44 - Nightospheresims - kumikya Carly Outfit

49, 91-92 - Anzuchansims - Nell Transparent Sleeves Dress & Carnival Scene Shoes V1 + V2

50 - VMSims - 4t3 Gorillax3 Blazer Vest Dress

51-53 - Nightospheresims - demondar Audrey Dress + Amity Dress & Trillkye Delight Dungaree Dress

54 - AmerikoSteelie - 4t3 NitroPanic Suspender Dress V2

55 - Nightospheresims - Trillkye Splash Cardigan Dress

56-57 -AmerikoSteelie - 4t3 Arethabee Secret Society Sabrina Dress & 4t3 Arethabee Wildflowers Violet Dress

58 - AmerikoSteelie - 4t3 CloudCat Fatal Frame Ruka Lace Dress

60 - elvgreen - 4t3 ekinege Chiffon Mini

61, 79, 90 - AmerikoSteelie - Xiasimla 4t3 SP23 Dress Silk, Xiasimla 4t3 Zeussim Asian Affair Dress, & VenusPrincess Zori With Tabi Shoes

63 - Nightospheresims - RR Marie Dress

66 - Nightospheresims - Madlen Daisy Dress

69 - AmerikoSteelie - 4t3 Elliesimple Pajamas Two Piece V2

70-71 - VMSims - 4t3 Gorillax3 Short Piping Pajama Full Body & 4t3 Sudalsims Homewear Dress

73-77 - Nightospheresims - Trillkye Thea Bikini, Madlen Sandy Bikini 1 + 2, Kumikya Lola Bikini, & ciao Glitter Bikini

78 - kent404 - Female Yukata

81 - sweetdevil - WA Cheongsam

82 - AmerikoSteelie - 4t3 Astya96 Lolita Platform Shoes

87 - AmerikoSteelie - 4t3 Madlen Sweet Harmony Melody Shoes

93 - Jamiesplayhouse - 4t3 Converse

94-95 - pixicat - Vans Sneakers & Dr Martens

96 - SimSongs - Madlen Kai Sneakers

97-102 - SuteFlower - Jius Platform Heeled Boots 01, Jius Star Fuzzy Boots 01, Jius Canvas Platform Sneakers 01, Jius Platform Pumps With Socks + Jius Heeled Jelly Sandals, & Jius Leather Ankle Boots 04

[scribbleseas]

Believe it (or maybe don’t, given my track record) but Straight Laced 7 might be coming soonish, actually!! I’m 3k into it and it just keeps getting juicer. This chapter will probably end up being around 7-9k :)

Hang on to your hats, folks!

- Dan

P.S. I’ve noticed a lot of you have been liking my short drabble “the door” — it’s an epilogue/spinoff for The Indignant Pawn. Do you guys like prefer more consistent & shorter uploads/want more drabble-type works? Or do you prefer having slight pauses between uploads, but longer posts?

Furthermore, how do you feel about a couple more TIP universe drabbles? I kind of miss them…

[gutsby]

Wingman

Pairing: Himbo!Joel x Reader

Summary: Your bestie braves the tampon aisle for you.

Warnings: 18+. Period crackfic starring Himbo!Joel—don’t take it too seriously. R has a uterus that hates her. Mentions of blood, cramps, & hangover-induced puking. Dirty talk, f!masturbation. One (1) Mean Girls reference.

Word count: 1.7k

You were fucked ten ways to Wednesday if you didn’t get your hands on some soap, a steamer, and a supersized box of maxi-pads in the span of the next eleven minutes.

Joel Miller moved like molasses on a flat slab of granite.

“WILL YOU HURRY— THE FUCK— UP?”

Your cheeks were hot. The night air was cold.

Every other word that managed to claw out of your throat was punctuated by a breath—your stomach clenched, and the sex organ below it was in hysterics.

Joel continued to lace up his loafer, clumsy as ever.

“O-kay, okay,” he hummed, “Steamer, soap, and, uh…”

“Pads!”

“Uh-huh. Right. So what kinda…blood stuff is it, again?���

The words were like an aspersion on his tongue. At the ripe old age of forty-seven, Joel still hadn’t quite learned to jibe with the menstrual product lingo, and it showed.

“Heavy flow. Any brand. With wings,” you hissed.

“Boneless or traditional?”

And if he hadn’t been standing outside the truck, foot propped up against the driver’s seat while he tied his shoe, you likely would’ve smacked him upside the head. The glare you gave him was sufficiently vicious to extinguish the smirk, though. Your hand made a fist in the front of your dress, and you groaned, leaning inward.

Joel got the picture and finished his bunny ears quick.

“Sorry.”

Then, a little more sheepish as he straightened up,

“I’m goin’. Be just a minute.”

And he was off.

Your body curled into a ball as soon as he left. It cried in pain, to nothing and no one around but that fugly slut, the nastiest skank bitch you’d ever met, your uterus.

There was no way you and Joel were making it to this rehearsal dinner. You needed to be at the venue by 7:00, the clock on the dash read 6:11, and you were, currently, twenty miles shy of Fredericksburg with a rag between your legs and your best friend scouring the local H-E-B.

That afternoon you’d been running late, so of course you’d thrown on your thin, satin, pre-wedding-ready dress before you left—and forgotten a change of clothes. Joel had been hungover from all the batshit bachelor party antics, so of course you’d had to stop three times along the way just so he could throw up on the side of the road. And, though your friend was many, many things, discreet was not one of them, so of course he’d told you, point-blank, when he saw you reaching for something in the backseat with your butt sticking up:

“You been pissin’ tomato juice or somethin’?”

And you’d looked back in abject horror.

Of course your period had come a week early and made you bleed straight through your bright yellow dress.

Maria was your best friend. You were her maid of honor. Tommy’s groomsmen happened to be the most fuckable bunch you’d ever seen—save for Joel—so there was no way you’d be caught dead at that dinner with the flag of Japan on your ass. And Maria had bought the dress just for you, so you felt like you had to get this bloodstain out.

You lifted your head to peer out the window. Even with the help of a fistful of ibuprofen, you could barely move.

6:29

“Dude, where are you?!”

It was like your phone and the FaceTime call to Joel had just materialized on their own. The man on the screen was blinking slow. Ogling something in front of him.

“So ‘L’ stands for…long?” he said after a beat.

“No, that’s light, Joel, I need a heavy one.”

“This one’s got cardboard in it, I think.”

“That’s a tampon applicator, dipshit.”

In a blink, Joel’s eyes flitted to his phone. His nostrils flared, and he met your gaze with a scowl of his own.

“Well how the hell am I supposed to know that? Only stuck two— three things in a pussy before and it sure as fuck wasn’t cotton,” he griped, and if he were any less mature he likely would’ve rolled his eyes. Drama king.

You winced as another cramp rolled through you. You shook your head and tried to regain your composure.

“Just find a heavy-flow. pad. with wings. for me. Please.”

Joel sighed and turned back to the shelf, eyes searching.

It shouldn’t have been this hard, but it was. You had no doubt Joel had never willingly touched a pussy product before in his life, so the road ahead was treacherous. Silently, you felt the urge to tell him he had no business being in pussy at all if he didn’t bother to learn what came out of one every month, but you let him cook.

His dark, greyish brows drew together in concentration. He leaned forward and reached for a box. Then stopped.

Went low to grab another, before pausing to show you.

“Very close, Joel. That’s a pantyliner.”

You felt somewhat like a mother showing a headstrong four-year-old how to copy shapes onto paper. No, darling, that’s a diva cup—and be careful with that crayon. Joel stood and he stewed and, by the look in his eyes, you’d already resigned yourself to another ten minutes of this back-and-forth rummaging at least.

Then you shifted in your seat, pushing your legs down a bit. They rubbed, of course. In spite of the pain that had seized your whole lower half, you felt a sweet, dull pulse.

You stared hard at Joel’s face on-screen to make sure he hadn’t seen it in yours, but damn that friction felt nice.

Sensitivity elevated with the influx of hormones, no doubt, you sat tight and tried to enjoy the feeling on purpose for a moment. You slowly sucked in a breath.

“Aw, hell, there’s just too many’a these damn boxes.”

You flexed your thigh muscles and let out a sigh.

“I don’t know how y’all do it,” Joel grumbled.

Keep looking, Miller. Just keep looking.

Slowly, your hips began to stir, and one small grain of pleasure gave way to a jolt—a twist in the pit of your belly that made the pain less grating. You leaned into it more.

Holding your phone, you could feel when Joel let out a frustrated groan. The sound low and almost enticing.

Wait.

Wait.

“Gross,” you said out loud, half-whispered.

You couldn’t help it. Joel was one of your closest friends; a man who loved beer die, Pall Malls, and Keith Whitley like nobody’s business and gave suffocating bear hugs whenever he was sweaty just to gross you out. You weren’t supposed to find men like that attractive.

But when the grit of his voice was just so nice…

“What?” Joel stopped to look down again.

“What?” you shot back, instantly.

A frown tugged at his lips.

“What’s ‘gross’? Me?”

Not…exactly, no.

More disgusted with yourself than anyone else, you clamped your legs together and shook your head. You tried to swallow, as if the action might suck the pleasure down with it, but the hot, throbbing sensation only grew.

You were practically grinding into the towel that had been stuffed between your thighs when you heard:

“Wings!”

An exceptionally proud Joel displayed a box of extra heavy-duty maxi-pads, with wings. He was grinning.

You weren’t sure if you thanked him next, congratulated the man, or what. You probably strung some words together and tried to return the smile as best you could, but who knew? The next thing you saw was that the line had gone dead, the truck was silent, and all that could be heard above the hum of the engine were your moans.

You braced yourself against the seat and rolled your hips even harder. Out of habit, you caught your lip between your teeth to prevent a louder sound from escaping, but then you remembered there was no one to hear you but you—for now. Your palm pressed flat on the dashboard, your knees squeezed even closer, and your vision flooded with soft, minuscule pinpricks of an all-too-familiar hue.

The only thing new to you here was Joel—the thought of him had never crossed your mind in moments like these.

But now you were closing your eyes, humping the seat with nothing between your body and the old, weathered upholstery but a scrap of fabric. And you were moaning his name. Imagining a face that was littered with coarse, grey stubble—you might’ve teased him for that once or twice before—and lips that were soft. So soft against your own that you wouldn’t think twice if he tried to slip his tongue inside and hold the sides of your face as he filled your cunt to the brim. In fact, Joel’s mouth would be a welcome distraction. Knowing how foul he was in even friendly confab, he’d undoubtedly be whispering the most vile things in your ear while he fucked you.

Reminding you, quietly, that you made such a pretty cocksleeve for him—why didn’t we try this sooner?— and how you’d be the sweetest thing if you just gave his cock another squeeze and made yourself cum all over it.

The mental image of that alone was inducement enough.

You felt a hot, euphoric band of something start to give way inside you. It tightened up, twisted—then snapped. Your mouth fell open and your thighs clenched tighter, grinding desperately in tandem with a pace you’d hoped Joel might’ve set if he were laying there underneath you. You clung to one last thought of him gripping your hips and bruising your walls with the force of his cock driving in and out, over and over again until, eventually, his cum was leaking out through each fluid thrusting movement. It was all your body could take, conjuring thoughts of his load spilling into you and onto him in warm, wet, sticky—

Whistling.

Someone was whistling outside. Walking up to the truck.

You were still coming down from the staggering heights of your climax when the driver’s side door swung open. You blinked furiously, as though to drive all the filth and depravity and need from your eyes before he could see.

It didn’t matter.

Joel was too amped up off a white plastic baggy to be concerned with much else as he plopped down beside you and smiled—beamed, really. Completely oblivious.

Your extremities were still twitching with the residuum of bliss when he reached for your hand. His eyes somehow warmer than they’d been all that day, they sparkled and shone and crinkled at the corners in a way that seemed to say the words before his mouth had uttered a sound.

“I got three boxes to be safe…”

Joel was really too sweet.

“…and some chocolate for your cramps…”

Always so considerate.

“…and you look real pretty when you cum, by the way.”

This motherfucker.

[accioscarheadthings]

ULTRAMINE ~ CHAPTER 7

kenji sato x reader

summary: professor sato is in critical condition after the kdf ambush and emi had gone into her pupal stage of growth. kenji finds himself with you.

pairings: kenji sato x fem!student!reader

warning: none, lots of fluff, cuddling, scar-kissing, tending to wound, hurt/comfort

masterlist !

"ow! that hurts!" you gritted your teeth together, glaring at kenji in front of you while you sat on the edge of the bed.

kenji was on his knees in front of you, tending to the seething injury on your chest, which you had taken when a missile collided with your chest.

"then stop squirming, love," kenji scolded gently, his eyes burning into you with growing impatience.

you had just showered and you were trying to clean the wound on your chest. you only had a towel wrapped around your body, giving a perfect view of your cleavage as your chest rose and fell with each unsteady breath.

kenji was in his bathrobe, having just returned from the bath himself. he heard you groaning in pain while you tried to tend to your injury and stepped in.

"just so you know, I was managing just fine," you retorted, trying to sound nonchalant. but your voice was slightly breathless.

you looked up at him, your faces just inches apart, and felt your cheeks grow hot.

the banter between you both was laced with a hint of desire, neither of you acknowledged it openly.

"you call this 'managing fine'?" he said incredulously, gently examining the injury. his touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you had to fight the urge to gasp.

"I would've patched it up eventually," you muttered, a flush spreading across your face. you bit your lip, trying to concentrate on the conversation rather than the heat that was building between you both.

"it's not too much to ask for help, y'know?" he said, his voice low and smooth. he finished wrapping the bandage on your chest, his hands lingering on your skin for a few seconds longer than necessary.

but you were glaring at the wall past him, gulping the painkiller down with a glass of water from the table nearby.

"sweetheart," kenji called, but you didn't concede him.

with a sigh, he caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, shifting you to meet his eyes, "i'm sorry, for that day when i lashed out on you. i should've let you speak,"

you stilled, blinking in surprise at his sudden apology.

he stumbled over his words, "i-i didn't know. i freaked out when i saw the notification from the kdf. but then dad told me everything. i was so quick to judge that i didn't let you explain yourself," his voice shook, "i put you through so much pain," he winced in remorse, mentally chiding himself.

"kenji," you shrunk into yourself, not knowing what else to say, "it's fine-"

"no, it's not fine!" kenji groaned, furious at himself. he ran a hand through his hair, grasping your hand and bringing it to his lips, "i shouldn't have snapped at you. i wasn't thinking straight," he looked up at you with eyes full of woe and grief, "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry,"

you moved your hand to the side of his face, caressing with your thumb, "kenji, calm down. s'okay," you exhaled, "i should've told you before, somehow-"

"i didn't mean those things i said about you. i just wanted to make you feel the pain i felt and i-" his voice wavered, "god, I'm so fucking stupid," he leaned into your touch, eyes closing.

"that you are," you commented, "but it's not something you can help, is it?" you mocked him lightly.

kenji peaked an eye at you, corners of his lips tipping up at your light tone, "that smart mouth of yours," he kissed your palm, holding eye contact, "gonna get you in big trouble. and i think you'd enjoy it," he leaned in closer.

you breath hitched as his face got closer and closer. his proximity and the heat of his body sent a shiver down your spine, but you tried to play it cool, "who says i'd enjoy it?" you retorted, your voice slightly breathless, "you don't know me entirely, kenji. we just slept together a couple of times," you dropped your hand to your lap.

kenji's eyebrows shot to his hairline, "just slept together?!" he repeated your words in mild offense, "baby," his palm gently cupped your cheek, "you tell me that but your eyes tell me everything I need to know," he leaned in even closer, his breath brushing against your skin. "tell me you don't shiver when I touch you, and I'll back off,"

you felt his fingers trail down the column of your throat, twirling a wet strand of hair.

"tell me you didn't moan when I touched you in the way only I can,"

he pressed a tender kiss to the injury on your chest, hand tracing the curves of your body.

"tell me you didn't lose your breath when I held you tightly against me. tell me you didn't long for more when I caressed your skin,"

you inhaled sharply when he wedged himself between your thick thighs, his free hand snaking around your hip.

"tell me you don't feel your heart race when my fingers graze your skin,"

the towel was precariously draped over your body. one edge came undone when he moved his hand around you, giving him the chance to rip it off your body. but he tucked it back in place. his hand trailed up your jaw, thumb outlining your parted lips.

"tell me," he jerked you towards him, your bodies pressed together that you could feel the heat seeping from his bare muscular chest. his droopy eyes darted from your lips to your eyes, "tell me you don't want me to kiss you right now. and i'll back off,"

"i can't," you breathed, gasping when he kissed your cheek.

you felt your resolve weakening with every word he spoke, every touch from him against your skin. you knew he was right, yet uncertainty still lingered in your mind.

"i know, sweetheart," he pulled back, his emotions a whirlwind, "do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" kenji sighed in awe.

you paused, your heart skipping a beat as you sensed his honesty. he was looking at you like you had hung the moon amd the stars.

"i know that's hard to accept for you, and keep saying it till you do. every day, every minute, every second, every chance i get," he nipped at your jaw, "you drive me crazy, i find myself wanted your company. for the good and bad days," he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, "i fell for you a long time ago, but," he gulped nervously, "took me a while to man up to it,"

you hand raised and rested on the side of his face, "but what if this changes everything?" you asked, your voice tinged with both fear and longing.

his expression softened, and he pressed your palm closer to his face, relsishing the warmth of it, "change is inevitable, but not always bad," he said, his voice soothing. "maybe this change is what we need, what we've been avoiding for so long," his lips were hovering just above yours, teasing and promising, "let go, love," he whispered, "let go, and we can find out together,"

the heat of his breath on your skin, the intensity in his eyes, the way he held you so close... it was all too much for you to resist.

you closed your eyes and let out a shaky breath, your final defenses crumbling, "okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible, "let's find out together,"

"then kiss me,"

you snapped your eyes open, "wha-huh?"

"kiss me," he tipped his face up for you to access, "kiss me like you own me,"

at his words, you closed the distance between you both, your lips claiming his in a fierce, passionate kiss. your mouths tangled together, igniting a fire within you both that you had been smoldering for far too long.

you held his face with one hand, other gripping and tugging the hair at the back of his neck.

the two of you kissed as if nothing else mattered, your hands exploring each other's bodies with desperate need. each touch, each gasp, each whispered name fueled the fire burning between them.

you pulled back, panting for breath, mind buzzing from the intensity of the kiss.

kenji kissed his way across the side fo your cheeks, the edge of your jaw, down your neck and a final smooch on your bandaged injury, peppering kisses all over the area.

"changes aren't bad. you were right for once," you admitted, sighing at the feels of his lips caressing your skin.

"i have my moments," he kissed your cheek with affection, palms at your waist.

by now, you had wrapped your legs around his body, locking him in place while you traced his features with the pad of your finger.

when you reached the tip of his nose, his playfully chased and bit your finger, grinning wide at your hiss of pain.

he kissed the spot again, his thumbs circling on your lower back, "god, i could never get enough of you, yknow that?" he nosed up your throat, mouthing at your skin, "you make me a mad man,"

"i take some pride in that," you felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, your body responding to his touch like a moth to a flame.

"'course, you do," he snuggled into your neck, holding you close, "m'gonna take you on a fancy date once we handle this mess, okay?"

you nodded, hugging him closer to you, muttering a small, "can't wait,"

kenji tossed and turned in his bed, unable to shake the image of his father's unconscious body in the debris from his mind. the dark night sky resembled his troubled heart, the weight of his fears and worries keeping him awake.

after a while, he decided he couldn't bear it anymore and got up from his bed. he walked down the hallway towards your room and knocked softly on the door.

when you answered, he looked at you with weary eyes, "can I sleep with you tonight? if you don't mind, that is," he asked quietly, "i can't seem to shut off my thoughts,"

you looked at him, sensing his anguish. nodding, you stepped aside and let him into your room. he followed you in, sitting down on the edge of your bed, looking lost, "i just-can't stop thinking about my dad," he said, his voice hoarse, "what if he doesn't wake up? what if-what if I lose him?"

"hey," you sat on the edge of the bed, slipping your legs into the blanket, "he'll be okay, kenji. he's been through worse. he's a fighter," you placed a hand over his fiddling ones.

"right, right," kenji looked at you, a mix of hope and fear in his eyes, "but what if he doesn't make it? i can't-i can't lose him,"

"you won't," you gripped his fingers loosely, "I'll make sure of that, okay? now, i think you should get some sleep," you scooted over in the bed, making some space for him.

kenji watched you fluff the pillow for him, flipping up the cold side, and did the same for yourself.

"um-y/n?"

you looked up at him in acknowledgment.

"can you, um, maybe hold me?" kenji winced at himself, hearing how miserable he sounded. he hated being so vulnerable.

"c'mere," you opened your arms and he crawled to you, snuggling into the softness of your chest, careful to avoid the place of injury.

"s'okay," you soothed, "everything will be alright," you combed your fingers through his hair, "I'm right here, kenji,"

he hummed against your skin, arms tightening around you. he slung your leg around his hip, wanting to be enveloped by your warmth.

you went still, flustered by his action, and exhaled slowly, trying to steady his breath.

"your heart's beating like crazy, love," he grinned against you, gazing up at you, "do i make your heart race?" he splayed a hand at the side of your thigh, gripping the thickness.

"shut up," you mumbled weakly, tucking his head under your chin.

kenji chuckled, his deep voice reverberating against your skin while his legs tangled with yours.

"why are your legs so cold?!"

"shut up, kenji,"

you felt yourself slip our of your slumber when you felt movement between your arms.

blinking slowly, you noticed kenji was shaking, face twisted in pain while he gasped for air.

you sat up lightly, brushing your hair from your face, "kenji," you shook him lightly, "wake up, kenji,"

but he still kept squirming in place, the bedsheets fisting in his grip.

you shook his shoulders with force, "kenji!"

kenji's eyes flew open, his breathing rapid and shallow. he sat up abruptly, looking around the room with wide, panicked eyes.

"hey, hey, it's alright," you said softly, caressing the tense ridges of muscles on his back, "you're okay. you were just having a nightmare,"

kenji looked at you, the fear still evident in his eyes, but slowly fading. his breathing gradually slowed down, and he seemed to recognize his surroundings.

you eased the tension on his broad shoulders, "just breathe," you soothed, "in and out. you're safe, it was just a nightmare,"

kenji nodded, trying to steady his breathing. he ran a hand through his hair, still a bit disoriented. "it felt so real," he murmured, his voice strained. he pressed his palms to his eyes, exhaling shakily.

"shh, kenji," you held his elbows, "it's okay. you're okay." you cooed softly.

letting out a whine, kenji turned towards you, pulling you towards him to lie under him. he buried his face in your hair, sighing shakily.

you held him close, combing your fingers through his raven locks and muttering comforting words against his temple.

as kenji slowly calmed down and his breathing became steadier, the exhaustion from his emotional outburst started to take over. he leaned into your embrace, his body feeling heavy and weary. you continued to reassure him, your hand slowly tracing gentle circles on his back.

time seemed to slow as the room grew quiet, only the sound of your mingling breaths. the warmth of your bodies pressed together was soothing, and before long, you both found yourselves being pulled into the embrace of sleep.

In the half-light of the room, your limbs remained tangled together, your heartbeats a steady, calming rhythm. as sleep claimed you both, the tension and worry that had gripped kenji seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and security in your arms.

TAGLIST !

@earth-to-mee @sassy-cat-in-town @breaddippedinorangejuice @nuhteyam @gameboigyu @byunpum @jennypenny-19 @doublebunv @moonjellyfishie @m00nd0v3 @despacito-uwu16 @reivelmin @seyoran @warlike-morning @crimson-mage-02 @b3e-sat0 @miffysoo @t4naiis @lovingyeet  @imsimping4life @mmeerraa @btszn @jusmango-shak @yobriisstuff @goldenpoison @fruchtgeschmack @iateurdad16 @bandolls @lovingyee @reivelmin @f-ergj @arrozyfrijoles23 @aise-30 @simp-hub @armycaratlover @taleiak @ellie-x0xo @femmefqtqle @mp-buezo @bakugouswaif @berryjuicyy @f-ergj @aise-30 @marshhbs @star-flecked-soul @bontensbabygirl @vynwan-cbq 

[kaelaheartsyou]

Dont Get Caught

paige bueckers x (female) reader

down bad reader + even more down bad paige

warnings:

pure smut (sorry in advance) mdni !!!

use of bad language

kinda public sex

i watched from the stands as my girlfriend scored the game winning 3 pointer. it was an extremely close game. she immediately locks eyes with me before smiling and running to her teammates and celebrating together. she was definitely getting it tonight.

i made my way from my seat to the sidelines where i congratulated everyone on the team making sure to give azzi and molly a hug. by now the whole team knew me and paige were dating, considering we’ve been together for almost 7 months, it was kind of hard to hide. but imagine how hard it is to keep it from the media. with reporter after reporter trying to get a chance to talk to all the girls, i couldn’t just go up to her and kiss her without someone taking a picture. i didn’t mind the media knowing and i know she didn’t either, but to be fair we did agree to wait.

i just sat down in a chair on the sidelines scrolling through tiktok liking pretty much every post that had to do with paige in some way. she was still getting interviewed while the rest of the girls had already made their way out of the locker room.

as she finished up, she finally walked into the locker room, clearly not noticing i was right behind her. i managed to get past anyone trying to take pictures as i walked in after her. i dont know how she was so oblivious to my presence.

“hi baby, you played so good” i said while smiling, still behind her.

“holy shit” she said practically jumping as she turned around to look at me. “how did you get in here without anyone noticing” she laughed

“they were all focused on azzi, just wanted to congratulate you” i beamed happily

“well thank you, im so glad you were able to come i know how behind you are on school shit”

she walked towards me wrapping her arms around my waist. i instinctively put mine around her neck. the eye contact we held could make anyone fold, and i was trying so hard not to. i wanted her to kiss me first, i don’t give in that easy even when it comes to paige fucking bueckers.

after what literally felt like hours she finally kissed me, my hands going straight to her hair that was still in a ponytail. i pulled off the hair tie making her groan into my mouth at the feeling of relief.

she lightly tapped my thigh to signal for me to jump. and of course i did because id do anything for this girl. she lifted me up making me wrap my legs around her waist. still not breaking the kiss, paige carried me to the counter where the sinks were and set me down before pulling at my shirt for me to remove it.

“paige not here we’re gonna get caught.” i mumbled before pulling away

“cmon baby everyone already grabbed their stuff out of here, no ones coming back.” she reassured me with her infamous smirk

i reluctantly nodded my head accepting the fact that if we get caught its on her. i pulled of my shirt and watched her immediately unclip my bra. she stared at me for a minute before speaking, “you’re so fucking beautiful im so damn lucky.”

i blushed, usually i was the one praising her and giving her compliments. must be the post-win feeling getting to her. nonetheless i appreciated her words even though they made me practically melt.

we reconnected our lips, her hand playing with my nipple sent a wave of ecstasy through my entire body. she pulled away again this time to remove my sweatpants, leaving them at my ankles because deep down i think she knew there was a good chance someone might walk in. she marveled at how soaked my red laced underwear was and i felt my self sheepishly covering my face. her hands were quick to pull mine away.

“this wet for me hm? and i haven’t even done anything yet.” she smirked again and pulled down my underwear. i was now fully exposed and she still had her uniform on.

“paige come on take it off.” i said motioning to her uniform and feeling quite embarrassed knowing i was the only one with out a single piece of clothing on.

she complied without a complaint and stripped down to her sports bra and boxers. i see her like this almost every night and it still amazes me how gorgeous she is. running my hand down her toned stomach i start spewing out compliment after compliment before she starts kissing my neck, making me shut up and throw my head back.

her hand thats not on my waist is touching everywhere but wear i need her. im sitting at the edge of the counter at this point, our bodies are flushed together skin to skin.

“please p.. i need you” i murmured quietly when her kisses started getting lower and lower. i just know that there were going to be bruises from where she was sucking in the morning.

“yeah? where do you need me baby use your words.” she said softly against my skin making me shiver. her long fingers finally touching my clit as she moved her fingers at an agonizingly slow pace. “here?”

“mhm- oh shit.. paige please just fuck me already ” i stuttered through my sentence and she laughed

“you want my mouth or my fingers ma?” she said as she made eye contact with me. the nickname repeated in my head, usually i wouldn’t let any girl call me that but it just felt so different when my girlfriend said it.

i debated between the two when i finally settled on an answer and said “both” she just laughed and told me to let her know if it gets to be too much. always so full of herself..

she sat in front of me on her knees spreading my legs apart. she didn’t even break the eye contact before her tongue started circling my clit.

“fuck p, you always know how to make me feel good.” i moaned leaning my head back on to the wall behind me.

i could feel her fucking smirking.

that just encouraged her to move her tongue faster and harder against my clit. she quickly got me to my climax and i grabbed at the back of her head pulling her closer and letting out a string of curses and moans to signal that i was close. she didn’t slow down though, she continued until i begged her to stop when the pleasure got so intense. she pulled away and stood up and kissed me, making me taste myself on her mouth.

“you did so good baby, can you do one more for me?” she cooed against my mouth and i quickly nodded my head, desperate to feel her again.

she brought to fingers to my mouth urging me to suck, to which i complied. her eyes were glued to my mouth as i took her fingers into my mouth. when she pulled them out she brought them right back to my entrance.

“oh fuck.” i moaned at the feeling of her fingers moving in me, immediately hitting my g-spot. she knew my body so well.

my moans encouraged her to speed up “can you take another one?” she challenged and i was so incoherent from the pleasure i could only mumble an “mhm” and nod my head while gripping at her shoulder.

she added another finger and i knew i couldn’t last much longer. my legs started shaking and my hand flew to my mouth to cover any screams that threatened to slip. she immediately tore my hand away.

“no i wanna hear you and know exactly how i make you feel.” she said cockily with a smirk plastered on her face. using her free hand she grabbed my leg and put it over her shoulder, increasing how deep her fingers went in me. i couldn’t take it any longer and i came all over her fingers. she slowed down her pace and removed her fingers before praising me for how good i did for her.

she put her clothes back on because there wasn’t enough time for me to make her “feel good.” i tried to jump down from the counter but i immediately felt my knees buckle from beneath me, luckily page grabbed my arms. she helped me put my shirt and sweatpants back on.

“hey paige?! have you seen my water bottle?” kk said as we heard to door to the locker room open. i quickly fixed my hair to look more presentable and paige walked around the corner and over to kk.

“yeah its out by the bench on the sidelines.” paige replied quickly ushering her out.

“oh um okay.. thanks?” kk didnt further question paiges weird behavior and instead walked away.

paige came back over to me and i put my shoes on before giving her a kiss. not a sexual one, i was just so proud of her.

“we could’ve gotten caught p, we gotta be more careful.” i said jokingly as we left the locker room, being careful to avoid any cameras.

“yeah that could’ve been really bad.. good thing you finish fast.” she said the last part as a whisper and that shut me up immediately. yeah she was gonna get it the second we get back to our apartment.

author speaks- guys im nervous this is my first post. constructive criticism is welcome!!

[futfemfantasies]

Semi final surprises \\ Alexia Putellas x Williamson!reader

Tensions are high in the Arsenal dressing room as the do or die game is less than an hour from starting. I tie the last knot in my laces before walking out with the rest of the girls to start warm ups. After a brief warm up with the rest of the starters, I sit down in the cubby next to Leah’s and notice a few notifications from Alexia. Before each game, Alexia always sends multiple voice messages. I play the first one and hear the thick Spanish accent come through the headphones.

Hi my love, I know you have the headphones on. I will send you the voice messages.

You will do so well today. Play your heart out, score some goals and take it in.

I love you and I am so proud of you superstar. I’ll see you in the next few days when you visit.

I smile at Alexia’s English and send a reply. My phone goes back into my bag just as Leah bumps my leg to gesture that it’s time to go.

I quickly change into the game jersey and line up with the rest of the girls. I see the Lyon team on the other side of the hallway and I move behind Caitlin in line. I feel a small hand in mine and see a young girl about 6 or 7 years old smiling up at me. I talk to her for a little bit before we go out to the bustling crowd that is the Emirates.

As we all wait for the formalities to conclude, I notice my mascot shivering slightly. I ask her if she wants my jacket and she nods. I take it off and wrap it around her shoulders. A small thank you was said and hug in return made some fans cheer at the interaction.

A short huddle later and the second semi final of the champions league is underway. With Wolfsburg shockingly beating Barcelona a few days ago, the Spanish team will fail to get their three-peat this year. A whistle pulls you out of your thoughts and your teammates start to get into position.

Lyon wasted no time in attacking, taking most of the possession from the first whistle. The Arsenal attackers, Alessia, Caitlin and I drop back into defence while trying to regain the ball to take up field. The deadlock breaks just before halftime with Lyon scoring the first goal. As the French team celebrated, Kim pulled us all into a huddle to motivate us for the rest of the half.

As I walk back with Alessia, I look back and catch Leah’s eye. I give her a slight nod and returned one as to silently say stay calm and focused. No other chances came Arsenal’s way in the first half so I walk into the locker room with my head down, about to give up. After a pep talk from Jonas and a motivational boost from Kim, the team were ready to face Lyon for another half.

As both teams jogged out, Alexia weaved her way through the crowd to get to her seat. Of course her plane had to be delayed and then no taxis or Ubers were at the arrivals part of the airport. Luckily, you had shown Alexia how to watch your games so she didn’t miss anything on the way over to the stadium. As Alexia got on a flight straight after a day of interviews and photoshoots, she came without any luggage. Excusing herself as she moved past people, Alexia finally reached her seat.

In the 70th minute is when the dynamic shifted in half. I try to sneak past Vanessa Gillies but she slide tackles straight into my ankle. I fall to ground screaming and the medic rushes over. I get a bandage wrapped around my ankle as there’s a decent cut. I put everything back on and the game resumes. I see a Lyon player get organised for the free kick, in a pretty good spot and I give Steph a look and hold up 2 fingers for a tactic.

Steph kicks the ball and I watch as it comes towards me. I quickly look in front of me and see Leah so I jump on her slightly to get a better angle on the ball. The ball flicks into the bottom corner of the net.

Equaliser. 1-1.

I run to the corner flag and turn around to be pulled into a group hug. The roar from the crowd was deafening as we regrouped and focused on the remaining 20 minutes.

As time was counting down, I was getting exhausted but I knew I had to keep going. Leah makes a crucial slide tackle and quickly spots me near the box. She kicks the ball over the Lyon defenders and with pinpoint accuracy, it lands on my foot, making it a perfectly timed volley. The familiar swoosh of the net is all I can hear as I drop to my knees in disbelief. Leah was the first on the floor with me and other teammates soon followed.

“You did it y/n/n”

“Games not over yet Lee”

In a matter of minutes the final whistle blew and Lyon bodies fell to the floor in distraught. Legs are exhausted, minds numb. While around the pitch Arsenal teammates and staff were jumping, screaming and crying all at the same time. Leah and I found each other first, hugging for longer than usual. This was our moment. One we’ve been waiting for since we were at the academy. After shaking hands with Lyon, the team and staff went on a victory lap. Walking with Leah and Steph, waving into the crowd when someone caught my eye.

“No way”

There was the love of my life wearing a red and white scarf and of course a Barça baseball cap. I sprint over to Alexia with a wide smile on my face. Alexia opens her arms and I jump the barricade to get into her arms, the place I call home.

“You came. I thought you had photoshoots and media” I say as my voice is raspy due to yelling in the game.

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss this for the world mi amor”

It has been speculation for a while now that you and Alexia are dating, with both of you posting subtle hints on instagram stories and posts. This moment just confirms all the fans TikTok edits and endless stalking they have done. Without another thought or care in the world, I grab Alexia’s cheeks gently and kiss her gently.

“I love you” I murmured against Alexia’s lips.

Alexia smiled as she replied “Te quiero más”.

I got called over by Katie and Caitlin as the group stopped staring and continued their victory parade around the ground. Alexia nudged me to go and said she’d wait here when I finish.

As I walk around the ground, nothing can beat this feeling. I have my sister and best friend with me in the final and the love of my life is by my side cheering me on. How can it get better than this?

[i4oba]

nct dream as… / times of a day 𓈒✳︎🚃

[— might be a little suggestive here and there!]

✰ 6:45 am .. jaemin

helios, through the half lidded eyes of yours was there to greet both of you at the same time—you could feel its hands coming near your bare body, the rays of the sun hugging your shape perfectly, casting such beautiful silhouettes behind, you and jaemin blending all together in your hazy state. you could feel the weight of his arms on your waist, hugging you so tight, sweet nothings leaving his lips, barely above a breath, hoarse voice laced with sleep. his scent, the sweet fragrance is dizzying, the warmth of him engulfing you just as much as helios’ breath of the morning; the sky is rosy, as if it was blushing while taking its time to fully wake up, faint shades of orange and yellow dancing through it endlessly. it’s such a beautiful way to start a day, with your lover all over you, deeply ingrained in your existence.

✰ 1:20 pm .. chenle

with the fierce determination of hermes, an arm slung around your waist; you were there—sun burning the uncovered skin of your shoulders, sweat making its way down on your temples as you took a look at the beautiful postcard in your hands, quickly snatched from a souvenir shop you passed barely twenty minutes ago. with such beautiful words and phrases, cursive letters and the scent of blooming flowers, you handed it over to your lover, hands aching to intertwine. he takes it, honest smile on his face, mumbling something along the line of “i’m the luckiest guy around”, wanting nothing but strolling around the foreign city for the rest of the day, stopping just for a minute in front of a pastry shop. there are freshly baked croissants!

✰ 3:25 pm .. jisung

was it all just a coincidence or did he know about all of it, you cannot be quite sure of but you, in fact enjoyed the way he pulled you straight into the sudden dancing flashmob. the sun was shining, birds singing endlessly along with the folk music played by a kind-looking band of teenagers, flute and harp harmonising together with the occasional sound of the guitar; you did not know how to dance or what kind of dance you should think of, but your lover pulled you closer to himself and took the lead, precise moves following one another as you felt yourself become a gracious nymph all of a sudden, trapped in a human’s fragile body. “honey, you’re doing so great,” jisung beamed happily, hands travelling lower on your skin, smile so wide and heartwarming. “i love you, so much,” he mumbled into your ears, voice losing the battle against the beautiful music.

✰ 7:05 pm .. jeno

with dionysus musing in your ears, you take a sip of the rich, sweet red wine your lover poured a few seconds before. the important event you two should have gone to long forgotten, with absolutely lust filled intentions you touch jeno’s rosy lips, tugging at his messily made tie, thighs rubbing against each other as you pulled him closer to yourself. the voice of dionysus slowly fading, you could feel the inviting hands of eros, guiding every movement of yours with extra care, fully planned with a hint of sinful acts. you sighs against your boyfriend’s mouth, not caring about consequences, reputation nor anything else, as you put his hands on either side of your hips. you wanted him—you needed him at that exact moment, the taste of his lips intoxicating, almost too permanent.

✰ 8:50 pm .. renjun

with lips slightly parted, tongue darting out to wet them quickly, renjun focused on the way your bare body looked behind the canvas. he couldn’t keep his eyes off of your curves, the way your hands did such a bad job at hiding yourself, timid reflection making it all too complicated to even think about anything but you. he felt drunk, as he watched your neck, the beautiful thighs of yours, wanting nothing more than to look deeply into your eyes and touch you, touch you everywhere he can and everywhere you’d let him to do so; you were everything and even more, compared to helen of troy, magical and enchanting, alluring. “can you please finish that painting, my junnie…” you mumbled quietly, shaking your head slightly. “i need you.”

✰ 10:45 pm .. haechan

“you should never come back to this studio, man, taeyong will kick your ass,” you laughed so hard, tears were about to fall out of your eyes, replaying the freshly made song of your boyfriend. he was a self proclaimed master producer but the thing is—it was rather funny than good. of course you appreciated his effort in making a lovesong for you, to confess for the hundreth time and once more. you were his muse supposedly and even if it was unlistenable, you loved it. at least more than taeyong, who would be furious if he knew you two were there, late into the night, making out on the couch of his studio until your lips were swollen, out of breath and with only one thing in your mind: love, love and love. you would never do anything else, even if it meant taking the risk of battling twelve times like heracles.

✰ 11:35 pm .. mark

being faced with the rolling credits after god know’s how many movies being watched, you slowly rested your head on mark’s shoulder. you reached out for his hand so you could take it in yours, not caring about silly actors’ and actresses’ love affairs or the world ending in front of you. all that mattered was the two of you, the adoration you felt for him, how he needed to have you close to him. his hair falling into his eyes, you tried to brush it away from there cautiously, caressing his cheek ever so lightly. you’ve never wanted to kiss him more than you did at that moment, every rational thought vanishing from your brain at the beautiful sight of him, as if he was the long lost son of the oh so wonderful aphrodite. “do it, love. kiss me and i’m yours,” was all he said quietly.