#thoughts on the wig anyone?

[closetnerd62]

Daryl Tofa is going on for Johnny on tuesday and wednesday. lives are about to be changed.

[kittycity]

Guys... Was Homestuck... Drag????

[skitskatdacat63]

Mark Alan, Count of Queanbeyan

+ explanation & lore

Okay first I'll explain the drawing itself, and then go into Mark's lore a bit, so stay with me!!!

First of all, yep. Mark with long hair. When I first conceptualized how he'd look in this au, I just genuinely could not imagine him with the typical long curly wig. And that irked me, bcs its just sooooooo historically inaccurate for him to have had short hair, no wig. I sketched him and Jense out as chibis, I drew Mark with short hair, and literally wrote "haha wow he looks so bad with long hair!!" Hello, can I take back that statement? It's actually shocking how good he looks???? Maybe it's a testament to my skill that I could make this work. But I did! And man, shameful to admit, but this might be my best portrait ever 😭😭 Funny tho, guy I've barely drawn, and never as detailed as this, ends up being one of my favs. Mark, you bastard!!

^ lmao as you can see, I tried out a more Seb type wig and then realized ahhhhh nah, he needs a different style. And it worked so, yay!!! I've thought a lot recently, "man it would suck back then if you looked shitty in a wig" and I rescind that. I'm telling you, you think a man would look bad in a wig? I say think again, you're just not conceptualizing the right type of wig for him.

Also wow, its crazy thst I can finally actually visually see what he would look like next to others like Seb and Fernando in this au. Hehehe look at them!!! The boys!!!! Just need Jense :,)

Anyways, I digress, some lore notes about Mark since I don't think I've really talked about him in this au on main much.

He is, of course, Seb's closest servant. His Groom of the Bedchamber(yes that term makes me feel rabid.) He's actually also based on a real guy, whom was described as the Emperor's "favorite" and despite not technically having very important positions, he had a lot of influence because of his closeness and connection with the Emperor. So, yeah, I think that's gives a pretty good pic of Mark in this au :)

He's actually pretty satisfied with his role, but he does feel a bitter and jealous when interacting with others like Jenson and Fernando. Because Mark doesn't have a title, well not in the same way. He's a count, not a King, not a Prince. Yes he's nobility, but not in the same way. And he's satisfied being under Seb, because that's what Mark was raised to do, take care of and keep Seb in line. But often realizes he's never going to be on par with him, not in the same way Fernando can, even if he's Seb's closest confidant.

To build on that. He's very satisfied with his role, and even continues to be satisfied when Fernando comes into the picture. Fernando and Seb don't get along, Mark is always going to be the closest to Seb, always going to know him the best, take care of him the best. But he realizes, he would never get to marry Seb, he's not ranked high enough for that. He was raised to do what's best for the Emperor, he's never going to be able to compete with Seb the same way Fernando can. He really wants Seb and Fernando to succeed! To grow closer! But it still really hurts sometimes.

His closest friend, other than Seb, is Jenson of course(and eventually Fernando, after they stop growling at each other like they're Seb's dogs.) But he does get bitter about Jenson sometimes. Jenson is a prince, who had some great performances in battle. But eventually got tired of that lifestyle, and "retired" to being part of Seb's court. Mark can't really understand that. How do you throw that level of prestige and freedom away. How do you just become the Emperor's servant, when that was never what you were born for. But also, I think Jense definitely uplifts him, they just get along so well, and Jense truly cares for him, no other motives :)

LOL sorry I realize how depressing this sounds 😭 I think all of the above is just Mark at his most bitter, but he's genuinely pretty happy. Think of the whole "not bad for a number 2 driver thing", that's him in this AU. He knows his station, and god damn it, he's gonna be the best, most loyal groom there ever was!! He just cares for Seb so deeply, and it truly is his life path to serve him. Seb cares for him too, feels like he can always rely on him and always be reassured by him and his eternal presence in Seb's life. It's nice to have someone you can always fall back on. Sometimes literally. Yes he makes Mark carry him to bed.

Not to stray away from just Mark, but aaaaahhh the Martian in this AU. Just Mark having to put up with Seb's brattiness all the time, and care for him all the time :) He's so tired of catching Seb naked tho...Seb please put clothes on, this is not befitting of your station. Seb takes Mark with him everywhere, and they share the same bed on trips. Mark is always the first Seb goes to to ask his opinion. I said earlier that Mark feels like he cannot challenge Seb in the same way Fernando can, but Seb really wants him to honestly! He loves hearing Mark's thoughts and opinions. Mark is widely known as Seb's favorite, and is often seen as the second authority in the palace and in the court.

As for Webbonso? I think they really dislike each other in the beginning just because the roles that they're in. They both feel like they're pitted against each other, and ir doesn't help that Seb loves to tease them and often favor one in front of the other(he later realizes how shitty this is, and tries to rectify it, because he never intended to make them actually jealous, he just loves being bratty.) Eventually they realize they're in extremely similar situations(both beholden to and stuck eternally with the Emperor), and find comfort in each other in that.

Yep that's right...the palace is honestly one big polycule djkfkglg. But I hope thay explains Mark in this AU well enougg???? All you need to know: Seb's long-suffering servant.

[stupidhany]

Currently obsessed with the second vers Ashley's song from super smash bros and the more I listen to it I gotta agree

The instrumental really reminds me of Pinky and the Brain like the little March melody? A course singing about the main characters and what they wanna do? The little silly musical sounds in between the song? Little like Patb

which also is kinda fitting for Ashley and red in a way?

They have that grumpy character and happy go lucky character trope going on which I love they're so silly

:]

[missbellamere]

Vi x Male Reader SMUT

--

pairing: vi x male reader

tw: writing that's way too amazing and realistic

--

"bro wtf are you a man?" Vi said with a disgusted face.

you nod like the good boy that you are.

"ew bro I'm not into men." Vi said.

but you're desperate, you're an incel, you definitely can't pull anyone and you peaked in elementary when you were the fastest racer. this is your first and possibly only interaction with a woman.

"wait vi don't go!" You plead. "i'll tell riot to bring vander back to life, and not kill him immediately after! please I'll invest in stocks, I'm literally a stereotypical straight man!"

vi looked disgusted but thought about it for a second.

"ok fine." she said. "but you have to wear this blue wig, 4 inch boots, speak with a british accent, and magically become 6'1."

you did those things and she side eyed you HARD.

"never mind. this is so cursed and I'd rather date a mongoose. the actual animal."

vi then left you for caitlyn

a/n: don't need to remind me I'm the most amazing x male reader writer in all of tumblr

seriously... all of the non-satirical vi/caitlyn x male reader writers are SO BAD. it's pretty obvious that I'm not trying here but they actually try... and it's so terrible. the syntax, writing structure, and aesthetics are deplorable. hope yall enjoyed this cuz I thought it'd be funny to shit post

also is it kinda bad that this is my first ever Tumblr post

-from me, bellamere, who is NOT a straight male

[chrollohearttags]

makeup artist!armin…that is all 🫠

📝: black fem hairstylist!reader, friends to lovers, fluff to smut, praise, he’s also bi, alcohol use, switch!armin, choking, finger sucking, oral (a eating) missionary, cumshot, calls reader babe and my love

🎙️: I’m trying out something a lil’ different and trying to actually make my drabbles short so I hope y’all like it. Also I know like 3 of you might actually see this tonight but posting anyways bc I’m bored

═✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿═══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

you never thought you’d see makeup artist!armin ever again..in the flesh at least. It’d been three years since you, him and twenty other attendees of one of the country’s most elite cosmetology schools had graduated as licensed beauticians. A majority of you had gone on to do extraordinary things with your newfound certifications…some working for prestigious salons, others starting their own businesses and continuing ones they were running illegally. But you and Armin? Leagues all on your own! Of course, the same could have been said when you were in school together. Seemingly attached at the hip and matching in both skills and wit. makeup artist!armin was naturally the talk among the class. The only male in a room full of gorgeous girls…chatting and keeping up with the conversations as if he were one of you. Offering advice on boyfriends and husbands, reciting the lyrics to every female rap song that played from the salon floor’s speakers as you all practiced balayage and full sets whilst the instructor watched. makeup artist!armin was a natural..able to analyze a face and turn anyone into the most beautiful version of themselves. Of course, it left much speculation on his orientation but when the question arose, his response was: “I like what I like, that’s all.”

with his fluffy blonde locks, warm blue eyes, scattered tattoos, including the pieces on his neck and hands…fingernails always donned with nail polish and sporting jewelry of some form, he was a dream. But it was him who was enamored with (y/n)..his girl to anyone who asked. Something you always figured to be a lighthearted inside joke, considering the number of empty, flirtatious passes you made at one another. Pretending to kiss, even allowing him to grasp your throat in the process because he’d only follow it up with some effeminate remark before you both broke into a laugh. “Armin moveee, you play too much.” “Babeee, c’mere. You didn’t have a problem last night. Why are you being mean to me?” But makeup artist!armin wasn’t interested in playing games anymore..especially when he saw you all over Instagram, going viral for your amazing work. Laying wigs, coloring, finger waves, silk presses..the works. You were the best of the best and people were dying to get a seat in your chair. Including an influencer with tons of followers and the money to burn, looking to get done up by the city’s finest for a club appearance. What you didn’t expect was the person traipsing behind her to be makeup artist!armin..looking even better than he had before!

“It’s been a while, my love. How are you? I see you look sexy as always.”

Hugging instantly as the excitement over took the both of you. makeup artist!armin couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you styled the influencer’s hair, watching you two laugh and chop it up..joining in on the fun occasionally. Turns out he had been working with some notorious clientele, using his talents to earn quite a pretty penny and make a name for himself in the beauty sector. But the real conversation wasn’t done until after hours…when he’d finish up with your guest and you were closing up shop. The two of you would down some of the leftover shots you had with the client as part of her pregame whilst he decided to give you a complementary beat for old times sake…

talking about life and what it had been like since you left the academy. Divulging in juicy gossip about friends and old peers alike, work and what it was like having your entire catalogue on display for social media. Of course, what makeup artist!armin and yourself truly wanted to know was if there was a special someone around..

“Me? Nah, me and my ex been done. I don’t have time for dating..the money is my only love nowadays.”

“I feel that. All I do is work and go home.”

but he was hoping to change that last sentiment. Dressed in his black button down and slit jeans with silver bands on his fingers..he’d turn your face towards him as the guise of brushing on your highlight

“Y’know I really missed this, (y/n). I’ve been watching you and I’m so proud of what you’ve done. You’ve worked hard.” “Thank you, Armin..you’re always so sweet.” “Well duh, I’ve already told you, you’re my girl..”

makeup artist!armin couldn’t hold back any longer…bridging the gap of space between you two as the bright lights hung overhead. He'd confess that he’d thought about you everyday and wished that the two of you had kept contact. It was as if all of the sexual tension and feelings that the two of you had been harboring were just seconds from spilling over. Which only in turn led to you moving to the back of your salon, lips crashing together and tongues shoved into each other’s mouth as he mounted you onto a nearby countertop. Completely forgetting his masterpiece he’d painted on your face.

“Arminnn..”

“Shhh..it’s okay, babe. I know..you don’t have to tell me. I know you better than anyone.”

a statement that rang true when he’d pull you into a kiss yet again and clutch your throat as he’d done in a joking manner many times before. A movement they elicited a smile from you both.

“You still like that, huh? So nasty..”

“You said it..you know me better than anyone, baby.”

from your lips to your neck, he’d mark you with pecks, licking and nibbling at your ear as he whispered lecherous things; from how good you looked in the bodycon dress you were wearing to how he needed to hold it up while pounding you from the back..

“Mmmm..see, there you go playing wit’ me.”

“Spread your legs for me, baby and you’ll see how much I’m joking..”

leaving you with a heavy pat to the ass as he scooped you into his grasp and parted your thick thighs. Obviously much more fit than he was when you’d last saw him. makeup artist!armin tugged down the top of your dress, exposing your breasts as he planted a hand into your tummy..peeling your panties back with his teeth before diving into that dripping center. Wasting no time in lapping on your clit, gliding a finger or two in and sucking on your folds as if it were his first meal in months. He certainly was no stranger to eating pussy..regardless of everyone’s opinions on his sexuality!

“F-fuckkkk..Arminnn..” Pushing his head and shoulders back whilst still grinding on his mouth.

“I’m sorry, babe. What is it that you want? Because you’re realllly confusing me..do you want me to stop..or should I keep eating this little pussy until you come all over my face?” Laughing as he spat into your entrance and continued lapping. (Y/N)’s legs began to quiver, breath shallow and chest heaving as your eyes rolled back..you’d never felt anything remotely euphoric as this. He knew each of your spots, what made you tick and how to pleasure you. He navigated your body as well as an eyeshadow palette and like always, he wasn’t done until he was satisfied..

“Awww, babyy—don’t cry. I know it feels good but you’re gonna ruin your pretty makeup. Here..suck on my fingers.” That soft yet dominant taking over as he shoved two digits in your mouth. What followed was a trail of saliva and his tongue breaching your puckering lower entrance. Which nearly caused you to shoot through the roof.

“Look at that..now I’m in all your pretty holes, babe..I’ve waited so long to do this. Fuck..you taste amazing.”

you’d whimper and writhe around, grasping at the marble counters as that orgasm neared..he’d push those fingers in and out until splatters of warm juices hit his chin. “Sorry, my love..I hate to stop you but—” unbeknownst, he had been stroking himself through his boxers and was ready to let you get the real thing.

“If you want to come anymore, it’ll be on this dick. I really need to fuck you.” His voice was much deeper than before and you didn’t hesitate to let him inside. Pinning your legs back to the vanity, makeup artist!armin tapped that head and shaft against your folds before gently gliding in, keeping your eyes fixated on each other with his hand still around your neck. That fat cock splitting open your wet folds.

“Shit…your pussy’s so warm, babe. God, why’d you keep this from me?” But you were too in awe to answer..completely stuck on how big he was and how well he wielded it. Slowly stroking and rubbing your clit with the opposite hand. You were fixated on his gaze and sweet words, listening to him to praise you whilst he resided balls deep inside of you.

“Oh my gosh��.’s so fucking big. Fucking me so good..” whimpering and barely able to fork coherent sentences. makeup artist!armin would chuckle softly as he watched it slide in and out, the bulge appearing when he sped up. “Damn, babe. I love this look on you…but I love even more how I look inside of you.” Pounding you into the vanity with his lips melded to yours.

“Ahhhh…yes, baby! Right there..’m gonna come.”

“I told you, if you want to, it’s gotta be on me.” makeup artist!armin would continue thrusting until he drew more splashes out of that cunt, making you squirt all over his torso and the countertop. It wasn’t long until he too was reaching his own climatic peak, burrowed over you with his face buried into the crook of your neck as he called out your name..whining about how badly he missed you.

“Oh God I missed you..I missed you so bad. Can I come for you, my love? Please? I’ve been so good..I waited all this time just for you..”

and it was no question that you’d welcome it..waiting patiently as he pulled out of you reluctantly. He’d spray those thick ropes of cum all over your tummy and even catch your face..

makeup artist!armin reveled in his latest and most prized creation yet. Laughing as those fluffy lashes swatted off remnants of his seed..droplets staining the glossy nude lip he’d just finished.

“I need a kiss after that. C’mere..” “Yeah, I agree.”

makeup artist!armin had long since dreamed of what he’d say and do once you guys reconnected. He was nervous, afraid that you’d reject his feelings but it was no longer a secret. That mounting love that had been festering inside of you both had exploded into a blaze of passion that couldn’t be extinguished any time soon. And now that he was back in your life, you’d never be apart again.

[charliewrites99]

Me describing characters from Supernatural without ever watching it, based on what I could put together from random tumblr posts

Dean Winchester:

older brother

bi and the closet is glass

psycho-sexual relationship with his car

has a doctor kink

divorced married divorced married widowed by an angel

DADDY ISSUES

don't do this cas

was in hell at one point

shoulder hand print

red-blooded all american hunter manwhore

Sam Winchester:

younger brother

flannel

straight representation (except Gabriel I guess)

Third wheel

dropped out of uni

was engaged to a blond woman (RIP)

a literal walking death sentence to anyone who kisses him

party city wig

was possesed???

the one with common sense???

Castiel:

gay angel

world's saddest eyes

wet soggy orphan beagle

victim of the trench coat epidemic

powerful, but idk about where he lands on the scale

was brainwashed???

the daddy-est of issues (is his father god?)

YOU CHANGED ME DEAN

fish out of water

ditched heaven for the beauty of humanity (Dean's dick)

Jack Supernatural:

destiel child

may or may not be a new god

something celestial

floppy sad boi hair

Gabriel:

just here to have fun do drugs and flirt

trauma

Loki?

Sam's Man Crush Monday

had his lips sewn together at one point

is he dead-dead? or just dead to the writers?

Daddy Winchester:

did not know what he looked like until I went to google the pictures

the worst person to ever exist despite having god and the devil on this show

left the sons the trauma factory that is the family hunting business which killed their mom

doesn't know what hugging looks like probably

Various female-looking objects:

dead girlfriends

beards

that one redhead that called Dean a pussy for not knowing what fifth base is (she seems fun)

another redhead that played Poppy in The Magicians and almost killed Quentin (that I for some reason thought was from Doctor Who)

evil angel girlboss??

This was my contribution for this years November 5th celebration

[astonmartinii]

we don’t play about halloween | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem reader

max doesn’t play about three things: formula one, his cats and his girlfriend’s love for halloween

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 607,344 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: yes we dress up to carve pumpkins, it’s rude if you don’t.

view all comments

user1: gosh they are so cute

user2: did max just dress as himself whenever he’s within 5ft of y/n?

maxverstappen1: i get why the americans don’t play about the statue of liberty

yourusername: i think they should build one of you in zandvoort

maxverstappen1: and they still wouldn’t worship it as much as i worship you

yourusername: i literally light candles in your name and pray for you with you mum, i think i worship you more sorry

maxverstappen1: the ONLY loss i’ll take

user3: i feel lonely year round because of them but it’s SO much worse during halloween

user4: they are the definition of the couple costume they invented it and they PERFECTED it

landonorris: i thought your apartment was a safe space, why did i get harassed over my costume?

yourusername: it was more of the lack of costume? “streamer” does not count

landonorris: who actually dresses up to carve pumpkins?

maxverstappen1: COOL PEOPLE

yourusername: imagine not dressing up and having an awful pumpkin … could never be me

landonorris: STOP BULLYING ME

maxverstappen1: do better then.

user5: obsessed with how peace and love y/n is for the whole year but as soon as someone doesn’t care about halloween it’s fight time

charles_leclerc: remind me to never accept an invite to a halloween event at the verstappen-l/n household - far TOO much stress

yourusername: but you’re like the only one who deserves an invite to next year because the air max costume slayed

maxverstappen1: i might even let you back on it

charles_leclerc: might???

maxverstappen1: follow me on instagram

yourusername: 2019 was so long ago we really need to move on

danielricciardo: you seriously underestimate just how petty these men are

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 894,560 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: halloween is a full family affair

view all comments

user8: JIMMY AND SASSY I CAN'T

user9: yall looking at the croissant and the lobster i'm focusing on AMY AND NICK?

user10: has max even seen this film?

maxverstappen1: nope i just like doing the costumes y/n wants to do

user11: i wish i had enough friends to have like ten billion halloween parties

oscarpiastri: i didn't know what to expect but i did not think i was going to see alex trying to drown george at the apple bobbing station

yourusername: i let them work out their own mess as long as they don't accidentally flood our living room again

oscarpiastri: AGAIN?

maxverstappen1: f1 drivers are just competitive about apple bobbing as they are about driving

alexalbon: in my defence there is a sick trophy for the champ i simply cannot let anyone else win it

user12: they got a trophy made? and girlies are serious about this?

yourusername: custom trophies for apple bobbing, pumpkin carving and best costume

alexalbon: three time apple bobbing champ right here

charles_leclerc: i'm coming for best costume this year

danielricciardo: pumpkin carving was an easy dub last year

maxverstappen1: but no one has out done us for costumes thus far

yourusername: and that's not bias, there is a democratic voting process x

user13: i need to be in this friendship group right now

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, maxverstappen1 and 723,409 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: it's the most wonderful time of the year ! thanks to everyone who came out and making the spooky season special. p.s. shout out to max who found this wig while going through our costume box and insisted on not taking it off the whole set up.

view all comments

user16: NOOOOO WHY IS HALLOWEEN OVER ALREADY

user17: rip to all of us who were hoping for a sexy y/n x max costume

user18: they heard we wanted sexy and gave us ratatouille i hate their asses

oscarpiastri: okay so lando wasn't lying when he said you guys go insane for halloween

yourusername: i fear not. i hope you enjoyed your dip in the pool, we found you in a guest room in my bath robe at 3am

oscarpiastri: oops.

maxverstappen1: you fared better than others on their rookie halloween appearance, just ask lando and charles

landonorris: you told me there was no alcohol in the jelly so it's not my fault i ate the whole bowl and threw up in your shower

yourusername: wow way to blame the victims there lando, you literally blocked the drain

landonorris: MAX SAID THERE WAS NO ALCOHOL

yourusername: it was labelled with the ingredients. you just can't read

landonorris: no comment

yourusername: and charles got so drunk that he decided he would sleep on the couch but got 'lonely' and insisted on cuddling with us

charles_leclerc: Y/N!!!! YOU SAID YOU'D KEEP THAT A SECRET

maxverstappen1: don't worry we thought it was cute

carlossainz55: wait is that why you came as a "cuddle bug" this year?

charles_leclerc: NO

alexalbon: and that must be why he got best costume RIGGORY

yourusername: no riggory here, you and lily as mavis and jonathon were a close second

user19: i won't rest until i have an invite next year.

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 821,309 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: sorting the recycling with your head barely attached is always the worst part of halloween

view all comments

user20: drunk max looks like so much fun

yourusername: i think i might drink my weight in coffee today but i need to see the kitchen floor soon before i lose my mind

user21: ma'am i know you're clinging to life rn but can we know who won what?

alexalbon: ALEX ALBON APPLE BOBBING CHAMP FOUR YEARS IN A ROW

charles_leclerc: i won best costume and it's purely because i'm cute cause NO one there knew about my cuddling escapades last year

landonorris: ugh pretty privilege back at it again

charles_leclerc: jealousy is a disease get well soon

oscarpiastri: my pumpkin ended up winning !! turns out people love a kangaroo in the ghostface mask

maxverstappen1: first rookie to win that title (i am so impressed by the kangaroo)

yourusername: you were actually so good you have to help me with all the decorative ones next year

oscarpiastri: i'm in

user21: but who won the real award - most embarrassing moment?

maxverstappen1: daniel got stuck in the door in his inflatable horse/cowboy costume

danielricciardo: NO esteban dressing as the cheese string man was worse

estebanocon: that's real creativity at least i didn't fall asleep in the bath like carlos

yourusername: not to gang up on carlos but the blanket you took in their is damaged beyond repair and i request a replacement

carlossainz55: fair, but it was me, lando and george in the tub

georgerussell63: fake news @carmenmundt

carmenmundt: i was also at the party babe, it was impressive how you all fit in there

user22: the fact they do all of this and race like two weeks later and the teams just deal with it

maxverstappen1: we've done much worse on race weekends

yourusername: someone didn't have to try and get home after abu dhabi 2021, halloween is nothing compared to that

note: a lil halloween one for you all. i also DO NOT PLAY ABOUT HALLOWEEN. and am currently planning my costume lol. just wanted to get a small one out before all my work comes in tomorrow, much love xx

[toothfa-1-ry]

DOYOUWANTTOGOTOTHEBALLWITHME? draco malfoy

In which,

Draco just can't seem to ask you to be his date for the Yule ball

GENRE: fluff

PAIRING: 4th yr Draco x 4th year reader

FEAT: lee do hyun as Terry Booth!!

WARNING: none :>

A/N: A continuation of my Draco Malfoy is a loser agenda!! Also did I mention that Draco is a very DRAMATIC loser??

"uhm hi y/n" Draco said nervously as he turned to look at Pansy and Blaise who gave him a reassuring nod and a thumbs up

"ooh hi Draco"

"uhm so..y/n" Draco nervously chuckled as he played his his hand cuffs "uh..y/n haha.."

"Draco-" Pansy hissed "you already said her name, there's no need to repeat it again"

"right- sorry. Uhm so y/n!"

"oh god he's a lost cause" Blaise muttered to Pansy who just shook her head.

"I can hear you, just in case you didn't know" Draco angrily muttered towards them, shooting them both a dirty look

"uhm are you talking to y/n or are you talking to us?" Blaise questioned, his eyebrows raised

"oh bloody hell" Draco sweared "uhm anyway y/n uh so like I'm pretty sure you heard the announcement today- during breakfast because like you have ears uh I have ears too! So I heard the announcement too- ha" Draco awkwardly continued.

"ofcourse she has ears dunderhead and ofcourse she heard it! Everyone heard the announcement" piped Lorenzo from a corner "just try to charm her won't you?"

Theodore shook his head in amusement as he watched his best mate Draco act like a complete fool. Actually he always acted like a fool except most of the time he didn't make it this obvious.

"right- right my bad my bad" Draco shook his head "so! Y/n!"

"yes Draco? What is the matter?"

"I thought you could do the er honour of er taking me to the Yule ball y'know" Draco smirked as he attempted to charm you like Lorenzo said

"I mean cause like I could go with anyone but I thought that I'd give you the first chance of going with me!" Draco quickly rambled and then flicked his hair "so what do you say?"

Theodore and Lorenzo tried holding in their laughter as Pansy groaned and Blaise muttered curses under his breath.

"oh bloody hell" Matteo mumbled

"mate that was horrible and I'm not even y/n! I'm just pretending to be her!" Matteo exclaimed as he took of the wig he was wearing

"if your gonna be this bad with me pretending to be y/n, how are you actually gonna face her!?" Matteo shook his head and turned to Pansy "he's totally lost!"

"it wasnt that bad was it?" Draco cringed at himself.

Oh he knew how bad it was

"it was HORRIBLE" all his friends shouted at him, especially Matteo who was honestly tired of wearing the wig and pretending to be you for the 9th time now.

"c'mon mate! This is the 9th time I'm pretending to be y/n. Just ask her out NORMALLY PLEASE" Matteo shouted

"oh shut up okay! I'm trying" Draco hissed his face turning pink

"well try harder" Theodore said from a corner "if you don't ask her out soon, someone else will"

"what?" Draco whisper shouted "you mean- there's a chance that she'll go to the Yule ball with someone else whose not me?"

Theodore rolled his eyes at his blonde friend, "incase you haven't noticed, many guys in Hogwarts likes her. And now you have double the competition with Durmstang and Beuxbaton"

Draco went pink in the face again "oh fuck"

"yup!" Lorenzo patted his cousin in the shoulder "so you better hurry up cuz!" He cheerily said as if Draco wasn't going through a mini panick attack

"ugh whatever!" Pansy groaned "you! Get your act together" she pointed at Draco "we're gonna practice this one more time! Matteo wear the wig"

Matteo grumbled as he begrudgingly wore the wig " on merlins beard why do I have to pretend to be y/n"

"okay! In 3-2-1" Pansy hollered, completely ignoring Matteo "action!"

"y/n hi! Uh I have to talk to you! Uh about uh something" Draco awkwardly grinned

"ooh yes Draco! What is it?" Matteo said in a high pitched voice that sounded nothing like you.

"uhm so-" Draco stammered

"yes Draco? Hehe" Matteo let out a giggle and twirled a strand of the wig

"uhm!..I have a collection of chocolate frog cards!" Draco squeaked, the word Yule ball being unable to form in his mouth

He heard all his friends groan and he became redder then a Weasley

"oh god not again..that's it. I'm going" Matteo threw the wig on the ground shaking his head "all the best" he patted Draco and walked away

"oh c'mon- wait one last time let me try one last time!" Draco whined as he watched all of his friends walk out of the dorm "oh wait- guys wait!"

-

"you can do this. I believe in you" Lorenzo gave his cousin a thumbs up

"well I don't" Matteo snorted which caused Draco to give him a dirty look "what? I'm being honest"

"she's right over there. Just go to her, say hi, maybe compliment her and then ask her out" the caramel haired boy ignored Matteo and gave his poor shaking cousin some tips

"what? What kind of compliments to I give her?" Draco whispered back in a sort of panick

"geez. Just tell her that she looks pretty today, and that you'd be honoured if she would go to the ball with you" Theodore cut in and shrugs "works like a charm"

"okay.. alright I got this" Draco mumbled

"yea you got it..now go" Pansy ushered the boy "c'mon now go ahead" she pointed towards the courtyard where you were.

Draco walked up towards you and a bunch of third years who were talking to you. Suddenly he felt very intimidated by those small scrawny third years and immediately turned away and walked back to his friends

"I can't do this! You lot are right, maybe I am hopeless" Draco sulked as his friends let out another sigh

"did he just call himself hopeless?" Matteo peered at the sulking boy "oh dear, y/n really did a number on him huh?"

"not helping Matteo" Pansy said sternly, hitting Matteo in the arm.

"listen, your Draco Malfoy and your going to go and ask y/n the girl who've been crushing on since forever to go to the ball with you" Blaise said giving Draco a light shake

"and if she says yes all is good and if she doesn't, well- it's kind of embarassing but it's gonna be alright" Pansy adds

"yea so go and ask her out now before she goes to the ball with Terry Booth over there huh?" Theodore nudges Draco towards your direction as the smiling ravenclaw keeper approaches you

"oh bloody hell- no way in my watch is y/n going to go out with that crow" Draco fumed under his breath as he immediately rushed towards you

"yea go get'em tiger!" Draco could hear Matteo whooping and the constant shouting from his friends, all hyping him up but that could hardly matter right now

Dracos hands were going all clamy and he could feel his heart racing. He wanted to run away from you but he wasn't going to let Terry Booth ask you out right infront of him!

"y/n" Terry approached you with a smile

"Terry" you greeted the Korean boy with a grin "anything's the matter?"

"oh yea uh I wanted to ask you if-" the keeper then abruptly stopped mid sentence as another person had joined their conversation

"y/n! Y/n!" A frantic Draco appeared, his eyes widened and his hair a mess

"Draco? Are you alright?" You ask the Slytherin boy who seemed to be in a bit of a mix

"mhm m'fine- I have to talk to you" Draco grabbed your hand which took you by surprise

You look at a awkward Terry and a frantic Draco, unsure of what to make up with this situation

"oi Booth can you bigger off for a second?" Draco coldly dismissed Terry who simply raise a eyebrow before shaking his head

"er- alright, I'll talk to you later y/n" Terry mumbled before walking away

"Draco! What was that. You can't just tell people to bugger off" you begin scolding Draco, unaware that his hands were still holding yours

"y/n I have to tell you something" the boy gulped, he could feel the way your hands felt against his and the close proximity the both of you were in. His heart racing even faster

"what is it?" You ask him, your brows creased up in slight worry. The blonde Slytherin boy who was always so put together, confident and full of himself was now nervous and quite frankly not behaving like his usual self

"Draco are you sick?" You immediately raise your free hand to his head and Draco swears that his temperature rises by a hundred degrees probably.

"uhm y/n" the boy begins, he could feel his sweat dripping and his mouth going dry

"oh dear Merlin Draco your turning redder than a tomato! Let's go to madam Pomfrey" you usher him, pulling him into the hallway "c'mon let's go-"

"wait y/n listen- I have to tell you something first"

You look at Draco in confusion. What did he have to tell you so much that he was acting quite frankly out of his personality

"er- okay..can you tell me when we're in the infirmary?"

"no! I have to tell you now" Draco pressed on. He had to ask you right now when he was full of adrenaline or else he won't be able to ask you later

"oh okay, okay" you say a little taken back "what is it?"

Draco bites his lower lip and mumbles something

"what Draco? I didn't quite catch you"

"uhm...I think uh- I think you look very nice today!" Draco suddenly exclaimed

"o-oh!" That might have taken you back by surprise even more, a slight blush forms in your face "thanks..uhm"

"actually I think you look nice everyday" Draco continues his eyes looking down, his grip on your hand tightening.

You look down and realise that the both of you were holding hands and you feel your face getting hot

"that's really sweet of you to say Dray" you said before you could stop yourself

Draco looks up at you, his eyes widened at the sudden nickname you called him

"Dray?"

You eyes widen and you the undying urge to slap yourself across the face as you see the way Draco's eyes twinkle with mischief.

"did you just give me a nickname? Dray?" Draco grins smugly, completely forgetting the real reason why he was with you

"oh shut up" you huff "I'm never gonna say that again"

"oh no please do say it again" Draco teased you, watching your face get red

"r-right, what did you have to tell me Draco? Do say it fast I don't have all day" you quickly try to change the subject causing Draco to remember the real reason why he was talking to you

"er-" Draco immediately felt all his confidence and smugness fading away

"oh dear Draco your getting red all again" you worriedly said, peering into his face "are you sure you don't need to-"

"not Draco" Draco mumbled

"what?"

"not Draco, don't call me Draco" Draco mumbled a bit louder

"well, what do you want me to call you then-"

"Dray, you should call me Dray" he says softly

Your eyes widen "Dray... I don't understand what-"

"doyouwanttogototheballwithme?" Draco squeaked

"what?"

Draco cleared his throat and looked around, he beckoned you to come closer to him and leaned towards you

"do you want to maybe perhaps go to the ball with..me?" He whispered into your ears filling your stomach with butterflies

"oh- Draco I-" you stammer, unable to form sentences "uhm I would really actually like that" you whisper back in surprise

"really?" Draco asked you back, his voice in equal surprise

You give a shy nodd

"really?!" Draco asked again looking at you eyes widened "I'm not going to stop saying really unless you give me a proper answer l/n"

Your roll your eyes "yes really...Dray I would love to go to the ball with you"

"oh my god I think I'm gonna pass out" Draco said feeling faint

"I think that's a little but of a exaggeration- oh my god Draco!" You shout out, trying to catch the boy before he fell on the ground

"oh dear- he actually passed out" you grimace slightly as you make him lie down in one of the stools in the courtyard after dragging him all the way from the hallway

You softly brush his blonde hair away from his pink face

"how quite adorable" you laugh to yourself

-

"Hey Berkshire!" Terry greeted Lorenzo who along with all his friends were trying to see what Draco and y/n were doing just as they got dragged to the hallway

"ugh we cant see them anymore!" Pansy whined as she stretched her neck, only to get a glimpse of blonde hair

"uhm s'everything alright?" Terry asked

"yea everythings fine" Lorenzo smiled at the tall boy "what's up?"

"oh uh- I did what you told me too" Terry grinned as all of Lorenzo's friends looked at him with a confused face

Lorenzo laughed "great chap you are my friend" giving him a pat in the back

"I'm guessing you told me to pretend like I'm asking y/n to the ball just so that Malfoy would make a move first?" Terry winced as he asked Lorenzo who just seemed to grin even brighter

"my god- you do catch on quick don't you?"

Terry let out a laugh and blushed at the sudden compliment. He was never really good with compliments

"you did what?" Matteo asked eyes widened

"sneaky snake" Pansy squinted her eyes at him and grinned 'your a genius!"

Lorenzo simply shrugged

"so whatdya think? He asked her out yet?" Terry peered out from where Pansy was standing

"maybe if Draco finally got the guts" Pansy snorted

"oh I think he did" Blaise said hesitantly

"what?" Pansy and Matteo asked eagerly

"it appears that our little prince has..." Theodore paused not sure whether he was supposed to laugh or be embarrassed

"he has what?" Pansy questioned

"oh hell!" Matteo shouted with laughter "the bloody wanker has fainted!" Matteo exclaimed with glee all across his face

Pansy covered her face with embarrassment as the boys roared with laughter. Only Terry wasn't the one laughing along.

"oh dear" Terry shook his head sadly "now how would the poor boy be when he dances with her?"

[earthchica]

On The Run

terry richmond x black, fem! reader

summary: Terry is hired by Mara, your queenpin stepmother, to track you down in exchange for intel on his cousin Mike's killer. But once he see you, he becomes captivated and torn between his task and his feelings. When he uncovers the real motives at play, the question remains: will he save you or abandon you to danger?

warnings: light smut 18+, lapdance, kissing, dirty talking, angst, violence, slight AAVE, queenpin, guns, mention of blood, on the run, nicknames [ baby, baby girl, sweetheart & more ] words: 4k

note: This had been in drafts for a while lol, I know I used the picture already, but he looks so good. I hope you enjoyed it; there may be some errors.

songs darling nikki by prince grip by normani just us by DJ Khaled, SZA

-

You've been running away from the web of the notorious queen pin Mara, aka your stepmother, for almost five months now. She killed your father and took over his family business, which rightfully belonged to you, and she still hasn't stopped looking for you.

To keep a low profile, you haven't stayed in one place for too long and have used different names, jobs, and identities. During your escape, you traveled to at least 20 other states and met some great people who knew your father; they provided you with tools to survive and taught you how to fight, use a gun, and protect yourself.

You are currently in New Orleans, where you've taken a job at a strip club and changed your appearance and name to Nicole, though everyone calls you Nikki. You're friendly and kind to everyone, but you never get too close to anyone—though tonight, that might change.

You adjusted your honey blonde lace front wig in the mirror and breathed deeply to steady your nerves for the upcoming performance. The locker room smelled of perfume and hairspray, a scent you had grown accustomed to over the past few weeks.

Your bold makeup was flawless—smoky eyes, long lashes, and deep red lips that matched your crimson lingerie. Standing up, you admired your hourglass figure in the full-length mirror.

The push-up bra lifted your ample breasts, while the thong connected to the bra emphasized your wide hips and short legs. You ran your hands down your sides, smoothing the delicate lace.

Despite the confidence your appearance gave you, you couldn't shake the constant undercurrent of fear. How long before Mara found me here? Would tonight be the night I had to run again? You ask yourself that all the time.

A sharp knock at the door startled you from your thoughts. You froze, your heart racing. "Who is it?" You called out, trying to keep the tremor from your voice.

"It's just me, love. Candy," A voice came from one of the other strippers. "Um…you're on in five,"

"Oh! Thank you," You replied, releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror, adjusted your wig, and headed to the main floor.

The club was dim, hazy with smoke, and pulsing with the rhythm of the music. You entered the crowd, your heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

As you approached the stage, you saw him—the mysterious man who had been coming here all week. He sat alone at a table near the front, his intense greyish-blue-green eyes fixed on the stage.

Your heart skipped a beat as you noticed he had gotta cornrow braids that made him undeniably fine; you had fallen for his strong features and full lips.

The opening chords of "Darling Nikki" by Prince filled the air, your cue to take the stage. You sauntered up the steps, your wide hips swaying in time with the music. As you wrapped your hands around the pole, you locked eyes with the mysterious man.

His gaze was magnetic, drawing you in. You began your routine, your body moving fluidly to the provocative lyrics. You spun around the pole as you twirled around the pole.

You felt his eyes following your every move. You arched your back, running your hands down my body, your fingers grazing the lace of your lingerie.

The music pulsed through you, guiding your movements as you danced for him. You slid down the pole, your legs spreading wide as you hit the floor.

His eyes widened slightly, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his lips. You crawled towards him, your hips swaying hypnotically. The rest of the club faded away; it was just you and him.

"What's your name, handsome?" You purred, your voice low and sultry. He leaned forward, his muscular arms resting on the edge of the stage.

The beautiful man paused momentarily, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "It's…TJ," he said, his voice rich and resonant, flowing with a warmth reminiscent of aged whiskey poured into a crystal glass.

It had a soothing, almost inviting quality. He glanced at you expectantly before continuing, "And yours?" His gaze was steady, a mixture of curiosity and intrigue illuminating his features.

You rolled onto your back, lifting your leg high in the air. "Nikki, sweetie. So…TJ," you said, running your hand along your thigh.

"I've seen you watching me all week. What brings you here night after night?"

TJ's eyes traveled the length of your body before meeting yours. "I think you know, Miss. Nikki. Just enjoying the show, and maybe something else."

"Wow, really? Interesting," You drawled, rolling your hips as you pushed yourself up to a standing position. "Most fellas are throwing out all kinds of lines, but you playin' it cool."

TJ's pretty eyes never left yours as he leaned back in his chair, a slight smirk on his lips. "I ain't most fellas, mama."

You strutted closer to the edge of the stage, your movements fluid and sensual. "I can see that. You got that look about you like you've seen some thang."

"Could say the same about you," TJ replied, his voice low and smooth. "Pretty girl like you, dancing' in a place like this. Bet you got stories to tell."

You chuckled, bending down to meet his gaze. "Oh honey, you ain't even ready for my stories." You said softly. "Try me," he challenged, raising an eyebrow.

You ran a finger along his jawline, feeling the rough stubble beneath your touch. "Maybe I will if you stick around after my set." TJ caught your wrist gently, his thumb brushing over your pulse point.

"You ain't gotta worry 'bout me leavin, darling Nikki'," TJ said, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly. "I've been waiting all week for this moment."

You leaned in closer, your lips barely grazing his ear. "Well, ain't you just the patient type? I like a man who knows how to wait for what he wants."

The music faded, signaling the end of your set. You pulled back, giving TJ a wink before sauntering off the stage. You could feel his eyes burning into your back as you went to the dressing room.

Once inside, you took a deep breath, your heart racing. Despite your better judgment, something about TJ drew you in. You quickly freshened up, changed into a short black dress, reapplied lipstick, and brushed your hair.

When you emerged, TJ was waiting by the bar, and you ordered a drink, and he offered you a toast. "Preciate you, boo," you said, taking a sip.

The alcohol burned pleasantly down your throat.

TJ leaned against the bar, his eyes roaming over you. "So, Miss Nikki, you gon' tell me what a fine thang like you is doing in a place like this? 'Cause I can tell you ain't like these other girls."

You took another sip of your drink, savoring the burn. "What makes you say that, TJ? Maybe I'm just tryna make a livin' like everybody else."

TJ chuckled, the sound profound and rich, making your heart flutter. "Nah…you got that look in your eye. Like you runnin' from something Or somebody."

You felt your heart skip a beat but kept your face neutral and cleared your throat. "You sure think you know a lot about me, considering we just met."

TJ leaned in closer; his cologne smelt so damn good that you had to bite your lip. "I'm good at reading people. It's what's kept me alive this long."

"Oh yeah, really, huh?" You challenged, arching an eyebrow with a light smile. "And what exactly have you been doing, that's got you worry 'bout stayin' alive?"

TJ grinned, revealing a perfect set of pearly whites. "Now that's a story for another time, baby girl. Tonight, I'm more interested in hearing about you."

You laughed, tossing your hair over your shoulder. "You sure know how to sweet talk a lady, right? But I ain't spilling my secrets to anybody, no matter how fine they look."

TJ's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Aight, aight, I see how it is. How 'bout private dance?" he asked with a smile, and you smirked, considering his offer.

"Alright, big spender. Follow me." You led TJ to one of the private rooms in the back, your hips swaying with each step. Once inside, you gently pushed him onto the plush velvet couch.

"Now baby, you just sit back and enjoy the show," You purred, dimming the lights. As the sultry beat of "Grip" by Normani filled the room, you began to move.

Your body was rippled to the rhythm, hands sliding down your curves. You turned your back to TJ, looking over your shoulder as you slowly unzipped your dress.

"Damn," TJ breathed, his eyes glued to your every movement. "You finer than frog hair split four ways."

You chuckled, letting the dress fall to the floor, revealing the beautiful black lineage that highlighted your curves. "You got a way with words, don't you?"

You straddled his lap, grinding your hips against him, and you could feel him hardening beneath you. "Mmm, somebody's excited," you teased, running your fingers through his cornrows.

TJ's hands gripped your waist as you rolled your hips slowly and sensually, feelin' his grip tightened on your waist. "Shit…you gon' be the death of me," he groaned, his voice husky with desire.

"Oh baby, you ain't seen nothin' yet," You purred, running your hands down his chest. You could feel his heart racin' beneath your fingertips.

You stood up, turning your back to him as you bent over, giving him a perfect view of your ass. You looked over your shoulder, catching his hungry gaze.

"You like what you see, handsome?"

"Shiiit," TJ breathed, adjusting himself in his pants. "You know I do, baby girl."

You straddled him again, this time facing away from him. You ground your hips in figure eights, feeling' his hardness pressed against you. TJ's hands roamed your body, caressing your thighs.

You continued to grind against TJ, your movements slow and deliberate. "You like that, baby?" You purred, looking over your shoulder at him.

"Mmm…yes," TJ groaned, his hands gripping your hips tighter. You chuckled as your body undulating to the rhythm. You ran your hands down your sides, over your breasts, down your stomach.

TJ's eyes followed every movement, his gaze hungry. "Damn, girl," he breathed. "You finer than frog hair split four ways," You smirked, stepping closer.

"You already said that, baby. You runnin' outta lines?" You teased, and TJ grinned, his teeth flashing white in the dim light. "Nah. I got plenty more. You just got me, girl."

You laughed, the sound low and sultry, pressing your ass against him as you started to twerk. Your cheeks clapped against his lap in time with the beat.

"Sweet Heaven," TJ muttered. "You shakin' that thang, shaking that ass for me" You looked over your shoulder, giving him a wink.

"You like that? Want some more?" you whispered in his ear, brushing your lips softly against his ears. "Yes," he breathed, eyes glued to your ass.

You stood up, turnin' to face him again, and bent over, puttin' your hands on his knees as you shook your chest in his face. Your breasts bounced against his chin, and TJ's breath hitched as he struggled to stop himself from what he was about to do next.

His phone buzzed, reminding him of his purpose for being here. You looked into his eyes, already locked on you, and you grew confused by the change in his expression.

The door swung open with a smash that echoed like thunder in the small room. My heart dropped, and you whipped around to see your half-brother, Myles, striding in with an intensity that could slice concrete.

Two bodyguards flanked him. "Good job, Terry," Myles said, his voice calm and composed despite the intensity in the room. You got off TJ—or Terry, whoever the hell he was—and put your dress back on.

"Hello, Y/N… it's so great to see you again, sister," Myles says bitterly. Your heart begins to race as fear crosses your face, and you look between Myles and Terry in disbelief.

You tried to escape, but Terry grabbed you by the arm. You looked up at him in fear and pleaded, "Please don't do this! They're going to kill me. You don't know-."

"Hand her over, Terry. You're working here; it's done," Myles said, moving in closer, but Terry was hesitant and still looked at your pleading eyes.

"What do you plan to do with her?" Terry asked, looking at Myles with his jaw clenched. Myles laughed as he glanced between the two guys behind him.

"Why does it matter to you?" he replied, puzzled. You were looking between Myles and Terry, your heartbeat racing and struggling from his grip, and Terry's eyes frowning.

"A deal is a deal. You want Y/N; I need that fucking information now." Terry said, raising his voice. Myles pulled something from his jacket and tossed it onto the ground.

"There, now give me her; I'm not about to ask again," Myles demanded, stepping closer while his bodyguards braced their guns. Terry appeared conflicted.

You couldn't wait for him to decide whether to help you. So, you bit his arm, punched him in the gut, and made a run for the other door to the dressing room.

You escaped, quickly grabbing your bag before you bolted toward that exit door, your heart racing still like a wild stallion, and chaos erupted behind you.

The sound of gunshots rang out, sharp and jarring, slicing through the air like a knife. People screamed, their voices blending into a cacophony of panic.

You could feel the chaos vibrations pulse through the floor under your feet—like an earthquake of fear. Finally, you skidded to a halt outside, breathless and wide-eyed.

You ran and ran until suddenly, a hand clamped over your mouth from behind, pulling you into the shadows of a dark alleyway. You fought against it instinctively, adrenaline surging through your veins.

"Relax, it's me, Terry!" Terry hissed urgently, his breath warm against your ear. His grip tightened momentarily before he loosened it slightly.

He said it like you should be happy.

You shoved him away and punched him in his jaw, and Terry grunted in pain. Terry asked, "Fuck, what did you do to make going through all this trouble over just you."

"You should know since you were hired to find me," You snapped, your voice shaking with anger and fear. "Don't play dumb now, not after all this."

Terry's eyes narrowed, searchin' your face like he was tryna solve a puzzle. "I swear. I was hired to find a girl who ran from her family. Knew nothin' 'bout any of this. This is some next-level shit."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Oh, so now you wanna act like you don't know? You think I'm gonna fall for that…I know my psycho stepmother hired you. Fucking bitch killed my daddy and took over his business. Now she wants me dead, too."

Terry's eyes widened slightly. "Damn, that's some heavy shit. I swear on everything, I ain't know none of that." you stared at Terry, your mind racin' as you tried to understand what he was sayin'.

"You didn't know, huh?" You asked, crossing your arms while looking him up and down, and Terry winced. "So what are you…shitty…bounty hunter from Craigslist?"

"You know what…" Terry grunted, his breath coming out in short gasps. "I'm not trying to get caught up in no family drama with psycho killers. This way above my pay grade."

You noticed the dark stain spreading on his shirt, realization hittin' you like a ton of bricks. You covered your mouth, "Shit, you have been shot!"

Terry looked down, seemin' surprised by the blood. "Dammit," Terry grunted in pain, his face contorting as he pressed his hand against his side.

He muttered something under his breath, stumbling slightly as he turned away from you. "Where you goin'?" You called out, your voice echoing in the dark alley.

"Away from you," Terry growled, his voice strained. "This whole situation's more trouble than it's worth." You reached out, grabbing his arm.

"Hold up, you can't just walk away. You need a doctor, Terry. You're bleedin' bad." You said softly, and he yanked his arm away, wincing at the movement.

"No doctors. They ask too many questions." Terry grunts; you can see the blood seeping through his fingers, staining his shirt a deep crimson.

"Then let me patch you up, " you said, moving before him. Terry's eyes narrowed as he studied your face. You could see the internal struggle playing out in his expression.

"Look… I get you don't trust me, and I don't trust you, but maybe we can try; both of us need each other right now," you assured him, raising your hands in a calming gesture.

Finally, Terry let out a long, heavy sigh and nodded, his jaw clenched tight. "Alright, then. Fine. Follow me." Both of you moved through the city's shadows, Terry leading you down a maze of back alleys and narrow streets.

The neon signs and distant sirens faded away as you both delved deeper into the forgotten corners of the urban sprawl. Finally, you stopped before a dilapidated brownstone, its windows boarded up and its facade crumbling.

Terry fumbled with a set of keys, his hands shaking slightly from the pain or blood loss - maybe both. He managed to get the door open and ushered you inside.

The interior was a stark contrast to the building's exterior. It was clean, if sparse, with mismatched furniture and a few bare necessities scattered about.

Terry collapsed onto a worn leather couch, his breathing labored. "The First aid kit's in the bathroom," he grunted, gesturing towards a door on the far side of the room.

"It's under the sink."

You hurried to retrieve it, your mind racing with questions you knew better. You rushed to the bathroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

The first aid kit was right where Terry said it'd be, and you grabbed it, hurrying back to the living room.

Terry had removed his shirt, revealing a muscular torso and a few tattoos. The gunshot wound was on his left side, still oozing blood.

"Alright, big guy," you said, kneeling beside him. "This is going to hurt, but I gotta clean it first," you added, and Terry nodded, his jaw clenched tight.

You poured some antiseptic on a cloth and started cleaning the wound. He hissed in pain, his muscles tensing under your touch. "So," You said, tryna distract him from the pain. "How'd a fine thing like you get mixed up in all this mess?"

Terry chuckled, then winced. "It's a long story, sweetheart."

"Well, we got time," You replied, focusing on the wound. "That bullet's still in there. I'm gonna have to dig it out." You said, grabbed a pair of tweezers.

You sterilized the tweezers with some alcohol, your hands shaking slightly. "This is gonna hurt like hell, Terry. Are you ready?"

Terry nodded, his jaw clenched tight. "Do what you gotta do, baby girl." Your heart flutters at the nicknames, and you take a deep breath and start probin' for the bullet.

Terry's body rigidified, and a low groan escaped his lips. You could feel the sweat beading on your forehead as you concentrated and tried to be gentle.

"Almost got it," You murmured, more to yourself than to Terry. "Just a little bit… there!" You pulled out the bullet, droppin' it into a small dish with a metallic clink. T

Terry let out a long, shaky breath. "Damn, girl," he panted. "You got steady hands. Do you do this often?"

You chuckled, applying pressure to the wound. "No…now hold still while I patch you up, " you said, working on cleaning and dressing the wound and stitching him up.

Terry watched you intently; his eyes were clouded with pain, but there was a mixture of something else there: lust and curiosity. You finished patching up Terry's wound, securing the bandage with medical tape.

"There," you said, sitting back on your heels. That should hold for now, but you really should see a doctor." You said, taking a breath, and Terry flexed his side gingerly, testing the bandage.

"Where'd you learn to patch up bullet wounds like that?" Terry asked, and you shrugged, avoiding his gaze as you packed up the first aid kit.

"Let's just say I've had practice," you said with a light smile, and he returned. "Thanks," Terry said softly, his hand touching your arm.

"I mean it. You didn't have to help me after everything." Terry said gently, and you nodded, finally meeting his eyes. "It's fine! If you don't mind, I need to change out of this dress, and I'll be on my way."

You stood up and paused when Terry's hand tightened on your arm. "Wait," he said, his voice low and urgent. "You can't go out there alone. It ain't safe."

You scoffed, pulling your arm free. "My life ain't been safe for a long time. I can handle myself." You turned to face Terry, your eyes searchin' his face for any sign of deception.

All you saw was genuine concern and maybe something else, a spark of interest that made your heart skip a beat. "Look," Terry said, his voice low and deep.

"I can't let you walk out that door knowing what's waiting for you out there. You need protection, and I can offer that," Terry explained. Of course, you hesitated.

"And what makes you think you can protect me any better than I can protect myself?" you questioned, and Terry stood up slowly and towered over you.

His broad shoulders blocked out the dim light from the single bulb overhead. "Because I know things, I can help make you disappear. And right now, that's what we both need."

You chewed on your bottom lip, considerin' his words. The smart thing would be to walk away, to disappear on your own like you'd been doin' for months.

But somethin' about Terry made you want to stay. "Okay." Just as you said that, you felt Terry's hand on your shoulder, gently leaning down towards you.

Before you could react, his lips were on yours. Terry's kiss was surprisingly gentle, his full lips soft against yours. You found yourself leaning into it.

Your hands reach up to caress his cornrows. The tension that had been building between you both finally broke like a dam bursting open.

Terry's strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his body. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin and smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with sweat and the metallic tang of blood.

His tongue traced the seam of your lips, asking for entrance, and you granted it with a soft moan. As the kiss deepened, Terry backed you up against the wall, his body pressing into yours. One of his hands tangled in your hair, tugging gently to tilt your head back. His lips left yours to trail hot kisses down your neck, and you gasped at the sensation.

"Mmm," Terry murmured against your dark brown skin, his voice low and sexy. "I've been wantin' to do that all week. Watching you up on that stage, movin' like you do… you had me mesmerized."

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers tracing the muscles of Terry's back. "I… I thought it was all an act," You admitted softly. "That you were just playin' a part to get close to me."

Terry pulled back slightly, his intense eyes searching yours. "No! That wasn't an act. I was hooked when I saw you up on that stage. Couldn't take my eyes off you."

His thumb caressed your cheek gently, and you leaned into his touch. "But… your job. You were hired to find me," You whispered, still struggling to reconcile everything.

"Yeah, I was," Terry nodded, his expression serious. "But I didn't know the whole story. And the more I watched you, the more I realized there was so much more to you than what they led on."

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. "I saw the fire in your eyes when you danced. The way you carried yourself with such strength and grace. And I knew… I knew I had to know you."

Your heart raced at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest as you gazed up at Terry, your heart pounding. His words had stirred something deep inside you, awakening something.

You reached up, tracing the line of his jaw with my fingertips. "You don't know what you're gettin' yourself into," You whispered, your voice husky with desire.

"They won't stop coming for me. Am I worth all the trouble ahead?" You asked, and Terry's eyes darkened as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Baby girl, I think you're worth every bit of trouble and then some." His words sent a shiver down your spine. You tilted your head back, exposing your neck to him.

Terry took the invitation, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your throat. His hands roamed your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

"Terry," You gasped, arching into his touch, and he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Do you want me to stop?"

You bit your lip, deep in thought. Every instinct told you to run and protect yourself, but how Terry looked at you made you feel like the most precious thing he had ever seen. It was as if he was determined to protect and cherish you.

It made you melt. "No, don't stop, Terry, please don't stop!"

Haha cliffhanger, I'm so mean, lol part 2??

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: Welcome to Part 1! You guys have really warmed by heart with all the anticipation for this series, so thank you so much. I think it's going to be a fun ride. 😉

Song Inspo: “Magic” by Olivia Newton-John. And check out the full “Lost on You Playlist” here. There’s going to be lots of ‘80s music in this series!

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: SB being an entitled asshole (strap in for a lot of that), misogyny, bullying, and a “meet cute” of sorts…

🎙️ Series Masterlist || YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 1: Siren Song

April 3, 1983

“Why the fuck wasn’t I consulted about this?” Soldier Boy groused.

Arthur Cohen, otherwise known as “The Legend,” released a heavy puff of his cigar within the relative privacy of his office. Vought afforded him a great deal of luxuries, at the cost of days like this.

So, he’d offered the supe one of his most coveted Cubans to pacify him. Because true to form, he was edging closer to a temper tantrum by the minute.

“This decision came from on high, my friend,” Arthur said, with a smile that hid his inner anxiousness. He tapped some ash off his cigar with a finger adorned by a gaudy gold ring. “Stan Edgar, Stillwell, even the entire board of directors signed off on this one.”

“I don’t give a fuck who bought into this PR bullshit,” Soldier Boy postured, crossing his arms across his dark green supe suit as he leaned into the plush seat adjacent to Arthur’s desk. He raised a solid boot on the edge of the newly polished mahogany, and then another, crossing them at the ankles. His cigar was balanced between his teeth in the corner of his mouth.

“The last thing we need,” he said, pausing to inhale. Then he took the cigar from his lips to blow out smoke in hot annoyance. “Is another broad on the team.”

Arthur inclined his head. “I understand your concerns.”

“Do you?” Soldier Boy snorted. “Countess is bitch enough to deal with, believe you me.”

Arthur sympathized. He knew Crimson Countess’s attitude well, but he supposed Soldier Boy had license to say so more than anyone else, considering she was his girlfriend.  

“Look, I could give you the numbers: expected profit margins, demographics, etcetera, but you don’t get paid to hear that from me,” Arthur said, with a magnanimous hand gesture and a fair bit of old Jewish charm. “I’m askin’ you to trust me. This girl’s good, okay? Not just a wig and a pair a’ tits. Nah, she’s got talent. Got a set of pipes on her too, my God.”

Soldier Boy gave him a sly look. 

“Not like that,” Arthur said. He shook his head in amusement, but not with the face of a man who hadn’t already thought about the girl’s pretty mouth. He stroked his chin.

“She’s…interesting. Well, you’ll see. If she brings up the ratings the way we hope, we’ll be able to relocate Swatto. Hopefully to Siberia. He’s a fucking PR nightmare waiting to happen.”

“All right, the guy’s a moron, but he’s fucking hilarious,” Soldier Boy said, smirking. “Like one of the three Stooges.”

Yeah. Arthur wondered if that homeless man Swatto almost split open in Central Park after a sneeze thought he was funny. 

“And her powers. Really?” Soldier Boy went on. His brows drew together then, as he frowned. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

But he could see that Soldier Boy wasn’t convinced. The supe rolled his eyes and released another puff.

“Anyway. I’m fucking bored. What’s the next project?” he said. Arthur took an unfiltered breath and peeked at the files strewn across his desk.

“Well, Red Thunder is coming out this fall. We’re pretty sure it’s gonna be the blockbuster of the year,” he replied. “After that, we’ll see about writing a sequel.”

If it makes back the millions we spent in production going over budget, thanks to this asshole’s weekly benders, he mentally added.

“I don’t care about a bullshit sequel,” Soldier Boy said dismissively. “I want to do something new.”

“Something new,” Arthur intoned.

The supe raised a brow. Again, the cigar was balanced between his teeth.

“Yeah.”

He really must be bored, Arthur thought, if he actually wants to work.

“All right, let me brainstorm on that for ya,” Arthur said. “Matter of fact, tell you what. Give me ‘til the end of the week. In the meantime, we’ve got the security team monitoring the police scanner for potential saves.”

The supe didn’t look impressed. His brows furrowed, as if he was irritated that he didn’t get an immediate answer, but his slight nod signaled his agreement before he finally got up from his chair. His boots dragged off Arthur’s desk, knocking over a framed picture of his kids with it, and thudded heavily on the ground. He left the office thereafter.

Arthur heaved a breath of exasperation. He didn’t get paid enough for this shit. 

Fucking supes.

But he didn’t dare utter that thought out loud.

It was days before Ben finally crossed paths with the new girl. Not that he’d been giving the idea much thought.

After that day in Arthur’s office, Ben became engrossed in his own devices—namely one of the assistants, Joanna, his stylist, Angela, and Rachel, his maid, after Donna blew him off for dinner for the third night in a row. This time for some tree-hugging conservationist gala of some kind. 

Frigid bitch, he thought, shaking his head. 

On his way to the gym, he passed the T&T Twins gossiping. Just the sight of them irritated him. Tommy was a kiss-ass, and Tessa shared a brain cell with her brother, so she wasn’t saying much for her gender either. 

“Would you pick your tongue off the floor already! You’re so disgusting,” Tessa said, shoving her brother.

“What? She’s fucking hot,” Tommy snapped in defense. When they finally saw Ben coming, Tessa piped down with her attempt at a “demure” greeting.

Tommy came in hot with a too bright voice and a, “Hey, boss!”

Ben gave them a stoic nod, fully intending to blow past them.

“Have you met the new girl yet?” Tommy asked, with an unmistakable pop of his brows and indecent smile.

Ben nearly rolled his eyes. “No.”

And don’t fucking care, his tone conveyed. He continued on his way to the gym. Behind him, the twins gave each other a look, and a shrug.

When he got to the gym, Journey was playing overhead. Ben frowned as he saw Black Noir working out by himself. The young man wasn’t wearing his suit. Instead, he was bare-chested and running on a treadmill with a nearly 90-degree incline, sweat glistening on his skin. 

Fucking show off, Ben thought. 

Then there was Gunpowder, his young sidekick, practicing his archery. Ben went to him and slapped a hand on his back in greeting, none too gently. The teen stumbled, his arrow landing into the wall instead of the target. 

“Spot me at the bench, ey kid,” said Ben. “And grab me a towel while you’re at it.”

“Uh, sure,” Gunpowder replied, ducking his head as he went. Ben got settled at his usual bench press machine, sliding his back down the thin leather cushion. He waited for the kid to add on his fifty-pound weights on either side, until it reached two hundred pounds. That was just the warm-up. 

“You met the new girl yet?” Ben asked, after he began lifting his first rep. Gunpowder stood behind his head.  

“No, sir,” he said. “Haven’t seen her yet.”

“I haven’t either,” said Noir. He’d come over on his way to the showers, regaining his breath all the while. Ben gave him a sharp side-eye.

“Did I fucking ask you?” he said. 

Noir paused. He hid his frown behind a stoic front, since he didn’t have his mask to do it for him. He toweled off his face and chest as he left the gym. 

Ben shook his head, but he never broke stride on the bench press. 

You seemed to be mysterious. 

Barely anyone had seen you, and you hadn’t gone out of your way to ingratiate yourself with every member of the team, like Ben would’ve expected. Donna had set him in her sights on her very first day.

With fake demure in her hazel eyes, a flick of her long red hair over her shoulder, and a sultry smile, she’d let him take her hand and bring it up to his lips for a gentlemanly kiss. 

That same night, she’d accepted his invitation up to his suite and let him do some very ungentlemanly things. Ben smirked at the memory as he made his way down Vought Tower’s infinite hallways. She sure knew her way around some kinky shit.  

And she still did, the little minx. She’d just been putting the freeze on his balls lately, for whatever her reasons were this time. He didn’t pretend to care or keep track at this point. 

If people only knew what a royal pain Crimson Countess was.

Ben was only taken out of his thoughts when he heard someone singing in the breakroom, gently, but beautifully. He couldn’t make out the words though. He stopped and leaned inside the doorway, just to see who it was. It was early enough in the morning that he was surprised anyone but him was awake.

You were standing there at the counter, making some coffee from the percolator. Soft and dulcet notes fell from your lips in some kind of lullaby. Quirking a brow, the oddness of it managed to draw Ben’s steps into the kitchen. You were wearing a leather supe suit that molded to your every curve, not unlike Donna’s, except yours was black with violet trim lines.

You eventually noticed him with a smile.

“Good morning, sir.”

Ben gave you a charming grin, blatantly eying you from breast to toe before he noted that the coffee had finished percolating. 

"Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. “Pour me a cup, would ya?" 

You did so, and he admired the graceful movements of your hands, and the sweet sound of your voice as you continue to hum to yourself. 

"You're a little crooner, aren't you?" he asked, taking the plain white coffee mug from you. 

When your hand brushed his, he felt it.

Your power.

It threatened to overtake him, drawing you into him like the crash and current of a tidal wave, where he couldn’t help but be pulled undertow. There in that darkness, he craved your warmth as well as your body. The thought, the need gripped him at his core… 

He wanted you to devour him, body and soul.

And he finally registered that your eyes were glowing violet, along with your knowing smile. 

Then you blinked. The violet haze was gone, along with your hold on his mind. 

You went back to sipping your coffee as if nothing had just happened. Ben faltered, mentally and physically as he was forced to grip the counter. He even had to catch his breath as his mind reeled from the loss of connection. 

He covered his unbalance with a steely, angry frown. What the fuck just fucking happened?

He looked at you harder than before, drawing himself to his full height and towering over you. Still, you didn’t seem all that intimidated.

“What the hell did you just do?” he growled.

Your knowing, easy smile remained. 

“Nothing,” you replied. “Just a little smoke.”

Ben’s eyes widened.

“Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

How the hell had you heard about that?

He quirked a brow, but you just sipped your coffee with a gentle slurp. Your gaze moved away from him as you went to the fridge to take out a carton of eggs.

“Want some breakfast? I’m thinking of making some eggs, sunny side up,” you said.

Ben’s hand clenched at his side, but then, he forced himself to relax. Or at least, to look relaxed. You had some fucking audacity to try toying with him…but he had to admit, you were something new.

Interesting.

“What’s your name?” he asked, in a tone that demanded.

“Sirena,” you answered. Your superhero name, which he’d already known when Stan Edgar told him about you a week ago.

Ben’s frown deepened, but he reminded himself to retain some charm. He took your chin between his fingers. His grip was light, but his green eyes were intense, and focused on you. 

“No. Your real name, sweetheart,” he said, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

You blinked, but you obliged him with your name, and a smile that edged at flirtation.

“What’s yours?” you returned.

He had to smirk. He knew you knew full well who he was.

“Call me Ben,” he said.

Three Days Ago…

You tried not to be completely overwhelmed by the sight of this huge tower as you pulled your suitcase behind you. Vought-American was an institution of superhero production, and Payback was the face of it all. The absolute pinnacle.

I still can’t believe they chose me, you thought, but you tried not to let that show. You needed to make it seem like you knew what you were doing. You belonged here, and you were seizing this chance.

Madelyn Stillwell, the head of Superhero Public Relations, personally greeted you at the gate and showed you up to your room. However, you’d barely gotten a chance to step inside and look around before her pager went off. She wore a certain smile when she saw the number on the screen. She tossed a strand of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and glanced up at you.

“Sorry, sweetie. I have an appointment to get to, but the directory is there on your desk if you need anything. Feel free to get comfortable,” she said, gesturing at you with her pager in hand. “I’ll be back in an hour or so to give you a tour of the building.”

“Okay, thank you so—”

The door closed behind her before you could even finish your sentence. That deflated you a little, but you tried not to let that small exchange bring you down. Your apartment was huge. Or at least, it was much bigger than the shoebox you left in the Village, let alone the Brooklyn brownstone you grew up in, sharing with two other families on each floor.

You hefted your suitcase onto the bed and began to unpack your clothes, makeup, and toiletries. 

You also took out the only framed picture you had—one that housed your parents and your older brother Chris. You were both grown already, but in this picture, you were barely twelve years old. That little girl didn’t know that her entire world was about to change, when her powers manifested for the first time. 

That thought did succeed in dimming your mood for a moment, but you sighed and set the frame down on your new dresser. You’d have to remember to call Chris. His son was turning four years old in a few weeks. 

Though your attention shifted to a black shape in the corner of your eye. It was a garment bag hanging on the closet door. You went over and unzipped it, revealing your new super suit. It was all black leather and violet accent lines down the sides, along the collar, and down between the breasts in a V-shape. It was strategic to accentuate curves and bust. 

You whistled lowly. It was beautiful, but Jesus did it look tight. 

“Wow,” you remarked, trying out the zipper up and down. “They really like their leather, huh?”

Still, you itched to try it on. After a few minutes of struggling and wiggling, you managed to get into the suit. They’d taken exact measurements, so it did look good. You felt like a new person…a superhero.

You smiled at yourself in the bathroom mirror. But then, you forced the smile off your face and shook your head, schooling your expression into something less doe-eyed and pathetic. More in control.

There you are, Sirena, you thought. You had long ago trained yourself with that enigmatic look. You knew how it felt on your face. The easiest way for you to get what you wanted in this world, the way you’d gotten this far, was with this exact face.

Only show them what you want them to see.   

Almost two hours later, you’d finished unpacking your belongings and explored every corner of your new beautiful apartment, but still, Miss Stillwell wasn’t back yet.

You checked your watch and hummed to yourself. Your curiosity getting the best of you, you decided to leave your apartment and explore the tower by yourself. You took off the suit as well, so you could make your way around more anonymously. You were sure no one really knew who you were yet. 

Your theory was proven true when you walked through the halls, passing Vought employees without even a blink in your direction. That was okay though. Soon enough, all these people would know your face, as well as your name. 

You reached one of the top floors, where you thought you remembered The Legend’s office was supposed to be (according to the directory). Maybe you could meet him and get a jump start on your schedule.

You stopped short, however, when an office door slid open. Out came a slightly disheveled Miss Stillwell. Her blouse was hastily tucked into her gray pencil skirt, and strands of her blonde hair were a bit frizzy as they brushed her shoulders, as if she’d combed them down with her fingers. You plastered yourself to a wall around the corner, only peeking around after she passed by.

Your brows popped up incredulously when you read the name plate beside the door she just came out of.

Stan Edgar…holy shit. His signature was on my contract!

Along with Arthur Cohen, or The Legend, as Stillwell had told you when she welcomed you in. He was the Senior Vice President of Hero Management, so who the hell was Stan?

Well, whoever he was, he was giving it to the head of PR.

Okay then. You shook your head and continued on your way. At the end of the hall, you finally found the right office. You were about to open the door, when you heard male voices coming from inside—one older and dry, and the other deep and strong.

You reached out with your awareness and allowed your powers to engage, likely making your eyes glow with a violet hue.

Sure enough, you sensed two men in the room. And as the voices raised, you recognized one of them. It was unmistakable; you’d been taking the time to binge all of his movies for the past month, ever since you auditioned to get into Payback.

Soldier Boy. 

A smile spread across your face. For a moment, you were incredibly excited…until you actually heard what he was saying.

“The last thing we need is another broad on the team.”

Your mouth fell open in shock as your brows drew together. You carefully pressed yourself to the door and kept listening.

“And her powers. Really?” he said. “Sounds like she blew something up someone’s ass to get this far, and it ain’t smoke.”

“Trust me, that’s the real deal too,” Arthur assured.

You glared at the door furiously, as if you could burn lasers out of your eyes. You crossed your arms, but you breathed evenly as you strived to keep your emotions contained. 

Control, you reminded yourself. With another deep breath, you managed to let go of your ire, but the more you listened to the conversation, the more impossible that became. You turned away from the door and made clipped strides down the hall.

You knew you had to tread carefully here. You’d heard some of the real stories about Payback, because you’d taken the time to listen. You weren’t about to enter Vought Tower without having some idea of what you were getting into, and you knew you’d have to prove yourself as the rookie on the team. You just hadn’t expected their leader to be such a chauvinistic asshole. 

Though inwardly, you snorted. Well, the guy is from the ‘40s. Best generation, indeed.

You rolled your shoulders and shook it away, like water off your proverbial feathers. Your mouth set in a firm line as you held your head high.

The game begins, you thought.

For the next few days, you watched. You studied each member of your new “team” as you encountered them, and you quickly realized that this team wasn’t much of one. 

They looked out for themselves, and bickered amongst themselves, in the case of the TNT Twins. Crimson Countess had given you a lovely, polite face that still somehow mocked you when she walked away, along with the bounce of her red hair. 

Your powers didn’t allow you to sense or read women, but you recognized a diva when you saw one.

Clearly, she was used to being the woman on top, especially as Soldier Boy’s girlfriend. You wanted to roll your eyes at the thought. From what you’d heard (and the masculine cologne you smelled on Arthur’s assistant Joanna yesterday), Soldier Boy got around. His relationship with Countess was either very open, or it was well-crafted PR.

You had another growing, unsettling thought. The more information you gathered just by observing the team, the more you had a hard time believing that you were ever going to fit in around here. 

It was only your third day in the Tower though, you reminded yourself, as you got dressed for the day in your suit. That kind of negativity wouldn’t serve you here. 

So you left your apartment in search of coffee and breakfast at the breakroom and lounge area, exclusive to the team. You supposed these guys were either late sleepers, or they got their food brought to them. You were relieved to find the room empty, and you let out a deep breath.

Remember why you’re here, you thought. It’s not about you. 

It had never been about you. 

You rummaged through the cupboards in search of the one thing that would perk you up—good coffee. You found it near the top shelf and began to prep the coffee maker. You hummed to yourself while your hands moved on autopilot. The tune strengthened, deepening and then sweetening on higher trills. 

Suddenly, your spine prickled. Your mind buzzed faintly with awareness as you sensed a presence.

It was familiar and overwhelmingly male, with heavy, confident steps coming down the hall. You tilted your head and frowned. 

Soldier Boy, that asshole. 

But then, your lips curved upwards. This could be fun. 

When Soldier Boy walked into the breakroom, he noticed you. You pretended not to realize he was there, but you felt the heat of his gaze roaming over your body. You wanted to sigh. Predictable.

Right then, you made a quiet, firm decision. Today, this man was going to learn your name. And he wasn’t going to forget it. 

You turned to him with a smile when he approached—the most pleasant one you could manage.

“Good morning, sir.”

AN: Game, set, match. 😘💚 As many of you know, this story is expanding on this Soldier Boy imagine, which I wrote almost a year ago now. In the back of my mind though, I always thought this idea could be more someday.

So please let me know what you thought of Part 1! I'm so excited for you guys to see what's coming up next...

Next Time:

“Countess, I’m not trying to replace you. I’m not trying to take anything from you.”

“Except my boyfriend,” she shot back. Finally she turned her head towards you with cool disdain. “You think I didn’t see you flirting with him last night at the afterparty?”   

You rolled your eyes, though you hid a sliver of embarrassment. You should’ve known she’d spot that.

“He approached me, okay?” you said. Maybe you were about to let your pettiness to get the best of you, but you couldn’t help it. You smiled slyly. “And from what I hear, I’m the least of your worries. Looks like Ben has quite the appetite.”

The cracks of Countess’s cool façade finally broke through to anger.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

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[tiktaalic]

catching fire dash simulator

finnicksgirl Follow

my streams have been cutting all season omfg what is going on

caps4finnick Follow

cinnagirl3000 Follow

anybody heard from cinna lately?

plutarcheology Follow

Plutarch Heavensbee circa 2282

revolutionarykatniss

As if it’s not ENOUGH that yall wanna fuck the most morally bankrupt man alive who is more than complicit because he gets paid to live in luxury to ORCHESTRATE the deaths of innocents so that they’re a spectacle and don’t have the option to die even semi peacefully. as if that’s not enough. You wanna fuck him when he’s ugly?

caesarflickerwoman Follow

anyone else still thinking about how caesar and peeta were kinda ..

czrflckmn

Aren’t you the one who had the week long meltdown about peeta being overfamiliar with him

caesarflickerwoman

Well you see I’m gay and a man now

theeclove Follow

already tired of this fucking season of everlark -_- idgaf about the fucking fog

siblingvictors

DISTRICT ONE GONNA SEND THEM A CANCELLATION NOTICE!! #CASHMEREGLOSS4EVER

czrflkmn Follow

everyone looooooves to act like NOTABLE cishet peeta is so gay w caesar as if his gay cohost isn't right there.... slaying in a wig..... sending yearning glances caesar's way right before the camera cuts......

johannadykeson Follow

tbh she’s got the WORST taste in allies idek why i continue to stan. girl MAGS?

#my girl going to get slorn :/

katnissgirlsmakedo

She is choosing with her HEART she chose to save peeta in the games REMEMBERRRRRRRR she’s literally a lovergirl to the core

#lovecore #heartcore #truelove

lucygraydotcom Follow

Caesar flickerman kidn if a laughing gnome. Reblog

finnickforever Follow

I’ve supported finnick through a lot and defended them and I’ve always been proud they're from my district but honestly they went way too far by doing the salute during the interview. I can only hope that they just got caught up in the moment with everyone else doing it and obviously it’s a stressful situation but I don’t think I can continue endorsing them. I’ll be changing my url this week.

divorceekatniss Follow

hey guys i know times are tough for everyone and the capital has really cracked down but my mutual @divorceepeeta got flogged the other day and could really use some help. v3nmo here. anything helps #signalboost #mockingjay

disabledmags Follow

Tbh the baby is the saddest thing I've ever heard </3

peetaspride

Another citizen falling for capital propaganda. It's so glaringly apparent that this is made up to draw in views. The tributes undergo extensive medical examination prior to the games. They would NEVER let a pregnant woman compete.

disabledmags

As if killing children has ever stopped them before?

#We all saw him fall to protect her stomach before they even started the victory tour #Is it that ridiculous to believe two newlyweds fresh out of a life or death situation would celebrate a little carelessly?

peetaspride

If you think even the marriage is real you're stupider than I thought. Peeta spends every interview begging us to see his truth. The capital is shamelessly silencing him and "the baby" is a distraction.

peetasbabymama Follow

URL CHANGE!! faggotpeeta->peetasbabymama

cupcakeeverlark

this isnt funny. peeta's a real person with real feelings. it will never be funny to call someone a f***** as a joke. how would you feel if my url was f*****peetasbabymama?

peetasbabymama

ok

district420

isnt cupcakeeverlark literally prez snow's 12 yr old granddaughter lol

tendinghiswounds

OOMF IS 12???????????

everlarklovechild

the age is the problem here?

marriedeverlark Follow

Canon url 🎉🎊💅😁🥰♥️

beeteemp3 Follow

New content of my favorite tribute 😁😁😁

3ffietrinket

Girl there’s a 96% chance they die ?

peenick Follow

getting reports from the presidential banquet that Peeta looks gay as fuck

3v3rlark Follow

ik peeniss has been flagging w the rehearsed speeches but did anyone else see the way they looked at each other in the censored district 11 speech

rues-song

you’re STUPID she’s a capital pawn AND i fucked your mom while you were busy looking for illegal streams

senecacraneofficial Follow

rip seneca you were so babygirl </3

plutarchbaby69

so now you think we can’t fuck old men?

#this fandom is so ageist #this is prob what I get for blogging about thg tbh since # it’s literally about kids. Some of you ppl need to grow up

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 31/10/2024 The Grid - Halloween Party

Plot: Halloween Party Couple Costumes

MAX VERSTAPPEN:

You both went to the party as the characters from Kill Bill, it was one of Max's favorite films and you were excited to dress up as the Bride. Originally you were going to go for the full latex outfit but because Max had a few parties in the same night you'd both be travelling between you had to do a bit of makeshift work.

"You look hot" he says looking over you as you unzip the bright yellow top you had on, just to show off a little more cleavage for him.

"Yeah?" you ask pulling the katana up and holding it in positions being goofy as he took some pictures of you.

"And i think dying your hair blonde ... good shout" he grins running his hands through your freshly dyed blonde locks just so you could pull of this Halloween costume without a wig.

LANDO NORRIS:

You wanted to be funny and go as Gru and Vector ... but no McLaren thought it was too 'silly' and wasn't a 'good image' for Lando as a now championship contender.

So you guys decided as you were only going to a small Quadrant Haloween party that you guys would go lowkey and just try and use as much stuff as you could from home.

Naturally you were both at home when he had the idea of both going as the game characters from Subway Surfers, out of all the games both you and Lando played you didn't expect to go as mobile game characters, something from Valorant or even Tarkov but no here you were with a red beanie, hitched up red underwear under low rise jeans and an empty aerosol can.

"Cant believe you convinced me into this" you shake your head, knowing all the girls there would be going as either really hot people or would be very funny like you'd intended ... but at least you were with Lando and you guys both couldn't escape the costume police you knew would be at the party.

"You love me babe now come on lets go jump some trains"

OSCAR PIASTRI:

When Oscar had met you when he first came to England you made of point of forcing him to binge your comfort show, Peaky Blinders with you which led to this years Halloween costume for the both of you.

While Oscar was the gentleman and got his outfit as show accurate as possible you took the hot slant on it despite having a shirt, waistcoat and jacket covering up the majority of your upper body leaving your legs to do all the hot girl work.

"We look good" Oscar smiled looking at you guys in the long full length mirror in your apartment as you guys were about to leave.

"You're right we do" you smile reaching up to kiss his cheek forgetting the bright red lipstick that was covering your lips.

"AH AH. Let them dry first" he says putting his finger on one showing the stain.

When you got to Logan's party you were met with such a different vibe. You and Oscar had decided to stay in America for Halloween which was a good choice as they were crazy for any kind of holiday celebration.

"Will anyone here know who we are?" you ask wondering if you're costume was too niche.

"Lets hope they don't, quick and easy conversations so we don't look rude and unimpressed" he kisses the side of you head, knowing how introverted you both are/

CARLOS SAINZ:

Of course you had to go as young Morticia and Gomez Addams. It was something you knew for a fact Carlos would look incredible in and you had the perfect features to pull of Morticia.

You guys were attending a Halloween Party that actually had a lot of the drivers at, it was in a club that had invited you all as a brand deal with F1 and you guys all didn't really have an excuse not to go.

You guys got an uber, which is a strange experience when you have a boyfriend who drives for a living.

So many of the other wags were there and a costume competition had been held which you and Carlos had ended up winning, you think Lando most defiantly forged the votes but you couldn't deny that you and Carlos looked like you both put the most amount off effort in.

CHARLES LECLERC:

Charles didn't ever really understand the hype for spooky season, enjoying other more family oriented holidays more such as Christmas or even birthdays.

But when you said that your sister was hosting a small party (that of course ended up being not so small at all) that she was dying for you to make an appearance at you had to go despite the late notice.

So there you guys were two days before ironing patches to blue and red tops you'd brought from the most accessible shops in Monaco and because you were bringing Charles and you wanted to match but with the lack of time options were thin.

So of course doing a really bad attempt at Sally and Lightening McQueen was the option Charles decided on and everyone at the party found you guys so funny especially once they realised who Charles was as a famous racing driver.

To say despite the 5 minute crafts outfit you guys put together you were everyone's choice of conversation both at the party and after.

YUKI TSUNODA:

Chef Linguine, absolutely not Chef Tsunoda and you as his Remi. It meant you got to dress up as a sexy mouse while Yuki could live his dreams of being a chef, dressing up in the whole outfit that you were surprised to see he just had in his closest already.

"You look like a cute mouse" he smiles looking over the white corset and sort grey skirt you'd opted for.

"Do i make a good Remi?" you ask sweetly and he nods.

"I still don't get why you didn't go as Collette" he sighs, thinking it would be odd for him to kiss you tonight when this was your outfit.

"Because canonically Collette is a better chef than Linguine because actually Linguine cannot cook without the rats help ... so I'm still not sure why i went as the rat. Maybe i should have gone as Chef Skinner" you groan now overthinking the whole costume.

FRANCO COLAPINTO:

Franco's nickname for you was 'princesa' so of course you going as one of the Disney Princesses made sense however when he said you guys should do Flynn Ryder and Rapunzel you almost lost your shit.

You were going to suggest the little mermaid as you'd love to see him in Prince Eric's soft pirate outfit but the Flynn outfit was just as exciting and you of course looked great in purple and could use your naturally blonde hair.

"Are you ready my Princesa?" he asks from the bottom of the stairs. You were expecting to turn round the corner with a soft graceful smile to see HIM awestruck at your costume.

Unfortunately god had other plans and it was you who was gobsmacked at your incredibly sexy boyfriend.

"Fuckkkkk Francoooo. Lets skip the party" you say running down the stairs to grip onto his arm.

FERNANDO ALONSO:

As an older couple on the grid who still loved a party and having fun you and Fernando decided old school was the best way forward. And for Fernando seeing you in sexy leather pants and a tight black top he was all but happy to keep pulling you away for sneaky kisses once you'd got to the club.

Nando was normally very ... sexually driven but this outfit of yours had turned him into some kind of beast and you were not complaining.

Especially when you guys got home that night.

ESTEBAN OCON:

Being the Marvel nerd that he was he'd asked if he could do Deadpool and you do Wolverine, which you did want to at first but when you couldn't find the right hairstyle and decided the outfit just didn't look good this year it fell through to be picked up another year.

Which is where his next idea came in, you'd both decided to go as Spiderman's he'd worn some grey joggers with him as the suit was pretty tight on him and he didn't want anything to come out in the media however you took the Spiderman look the whole way and for the whole night Estaban had to stay close to you warding off all the other guys who were watching you with what he explained to you as 'fuck me' eyes.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[deckedcards]

ᝰ . . . OH BABY, JUST LEAVE THE SCENT OF YOUR COLOGNE !

⌗ PAIRING: ryōhei arisu x male! reader

⌗ SUMMARY: arisu wasn’t the biggest fan of committing to relationships. whenever he wanted a good fuck, he’d just pick up the nearest pretty girl and then ghost her once he got what he wanted. this gave him an unlikable reputation at his college, along with the popularity of his pretentious family. he’d never thought this would be something he’d ever wanna change about himself, until one night he was forced to go to a college event where he saw the prettiest “girl” he’s ever seen. but what will this change for him once he finds out the supposed girl of his dreams isn’t what she makes herself out to be?

⌗ THIS WORK INCLUDES . . . lowercase intended, third person pov, no borderlands au, college au, fluff, slightly long fic, feminine reader, cross dressing reader, arisu mistakes reader for a girl, she/her and he/him pronouns used for reader, mentions of playboy arisu or is it fuckboy idk, rich kid arisu, bisexual arisu, musician!reader, readers in a band, found family, love at first sight trope, mentions of suggestive content, cursing, smoking, reader is mentioned to have long hair (no worries it’s a wig), strangers to lovers trope, arisu having a tiny ego, nobodies the biggest fan of arisu or his family, lonely arisu, mentions of arisu’s daddy issues, talks of abuse, slight mentions of groping (NOT by arisu), i don’t know anything about college so i apologize if anything i wrote is inaccurate, fixed grammar and wording mistakes ❨ edited ❩

⌗ EXTRA NOTES: *throws this at your face and sprints off*

━━━━ ARISU SQUINTED his eyes at the giant billboard sign that was plastered in front of the buildings center. “borderlands” was shining brightly in the cascade of the dark, multiple college students were lined up outside, eager to get in. they were at a goddamn concert venue, “why are we even here?” arisu mumbled focusing his attention to his friends that were beside him, karube and chōta sent glares at his question.

“ ‘because you need more social interaction?” karube said raising one of his eyebrows, “y’know we can’t be the only people you talk to right?” arisu scoffed lowering his head into his hands as he pouted, “you sound like my dad.” he grumbled, unbuckling his seatbeat as he stepped out of the limo. attention was turned to him, his side-parted slicked back hair and cheetah print coat that covered his entirely black outfit made him stick out like a sore thumb.

everyone was dressed in casual and comfortable clothing while he was dressed like he was going to a club or something. chatter started to rumble as karube and chōta stepped out alongside him, girls whispering to each other as they thirsted over arisu, guys attempting to prevent their girlfriends from looking at him slightly jealous at his appearance. “do you always have to be so extra?” chōta asked as he lead the two inside, waving to anyone that he recognized.

“i’m not being extra,” arisu said as he itched his nose, ignoring all the death stares people were sending his way, “i’m just letting my presence be known,” he stuck his hands into his pockets as he examined everyone in the hallways, noticing familiar faces he wouldn’t have expected to see at this kinda place.

shuntarō chishiya and hikari kuina, the two friends that were always attached to each other. one of them was a quiet but cunning inventor always keeping his head stuck in his hoodie as his hands were hidden away in his pockets never once seeing the light of day while the other was a strong martial artist that constantly gossiped about others to the man with dyed hair, she was also an ex-smoker. this being known as a fake cigar would always be seen hanging from her mouth.

rizuna ann and kōdai tatta. ann was a smart but reclusive woman, always standing in random places as her sunglasses were glued to her face. whether it be inside or outside, she never took them off for anything, her arms were always crossed to her chest with a stoic face. constantly walking around in monochrome clothing, the only color was on her lips, the red lipstick she always wore shined brightly. tatta was a part time mechanic, always getting giddy whenever he saw a car he liked, confident in telling people about his interests even when he always got hated on by the people he worked with. rumor has it he injured one of his coworkers all because he zoned out at the wrong time.

hell, even suguru niragi was here. the campus’ self centered asshole, he made arisu seem like an angel compared to him (if you ignore how big his body count was and all the blocked contacts that were on his phone). constantly harassing the people around him as he stuck his pierced tongue out to mock them. he always hung around a weird bald man with blue tattoos that covered his body from head to toe, literally. he didn’t know the guys name, he didn’t even know if the guy did have a name. always staring off into space as he ruined his posture by tilting over all the time, what a weirdo.

he cringed as his eyes met up with some of his past flings. quickly covering his side profile with his hands as he rushed by multiple women, they noticed him, obviously. it was hard not to when he was the son of a famous businessman that ruined peoples lives all over tokyo at every hour. “we told you to stop doing your little ‘hobby,’ “ karube said pushing arisu’s shoulder, “you’re making people hate you even more than they already should.”

karube was right, but he didn’t wanna acknowledge it. arisu was constantly fucking woman left and right not letting anyone’s bodies go untouched by him (with consent of course, he knows when to back off when he should). but it wasn’t his fault, really, it wasn’t. he didn’t like spending nights alone, he was a grown man for fucks sake, he shouldn’t be afraid of not having someone share the bed with him. he grew out of that the moment he hit middle school, or… so he tells himself. his father groomed him and his brother into being the perfect men, the perfect sons. his sons who will one day take over his money hungry company.

ever since the death of his mother, his father treated him and his brother less and less like people and more like video game characters. molding their appearances into how he wanted them to look, shaping their personalities into being just like him. telling the two to find a good wife so he’ll have grandchildren that will run his office once they retired. this lead him to being afraid of committing to someone, actually falling in love with someone. this was the only thing in his life he could control even if it wasn’t the healthiest method of being freed from his fathers grip,

‘such, bullshit’ arisu thought as he got reminded of this, combing his fingers through his hair. the three stepped into an auditorium, the entire place was filled with people and noise. not a single conversation could be held with how loud it was, it was already starting to annoy arisu and his ears. the trio were seated in the front row, arisu in the middle while karube and chōta sat by his sides, he sighed to himself, ‘this was going to be a long night, wasn’t it?’

———

arisu shifted in his seat, two hours have gone by and the place was just now letting the opening band up. the stage was decorated with different instruments, a drumset sat in the center back, two guitars and a bass were to the right sitting next to eachother, and lastly there stood the microphone that was infront.

the crowd started to cheer as the band members came out. a girl came out first, waving to everyone as she shined a bright smile. she had brown hair and blonde hair streaks, she was dressed in a boring outfit. a brown jacket placed over a green shirt with light blue jeans and brown and white shoes, very… earthy? next came out a guy with black hair that was styled into a wolfcut, he was dressed in a white tank top and black pants as a chain hung from his belt loop. he had cloth wrapped around his wrists, a pierced lip along with a pierced eyebrow, and sunglasses that shaded his eyes as he walked towards the drums, his body language was very loose and unbothered.

then came another girl, she was just like the guy with carefree body language and sunglasses as she twirled her dark hair that was styled into low pigtails. a beanie covered the top of her head, she wore a long sleeved dark blue shirt that had a black star patched into the middle, her baggy sweatpants were very loose as the ends covered her shoes, one wrong move and she could trip all over herself. finally the last member came out, the lead singer of the group.

arisu sat up as he saw “her.” she was dressed in a black halter-neck shirt with gray jeans that slightly flared at her ankles and black shoes. what caught his eye was her hair, the blonde shoulder length that framed her face and bangs that covered her eyebrows (it was obviously a wig when looked more up close but arisu didn’t need to know that.) his eyes glimmered as he stared at her, breath catching itself in his throat as she welcomed the audience, her voice was calming, he felt himself get addicted to how she pronounced words. “she” was beautiful, he wanted this woman in his life, he needed this woman in his life. this woman was his soulmate, he could feel it.

(name) walked up to his pink and black guitar guiding the strap over his head and onto his shoulder. he sent smiles and nods to the rest of his band members, asuka, aiko and haru. (name) had met the three during his late teenage years, moving out from his moms apartment to live on his own and follow his own path in life.

asuka was the first one he met, a girl that was only a few years older than him that used to work at a dying pub. one night she stepped out for a smoke break, her hair tied into a messy ponytail with heavy eyebags, she looked like a zombie from afar. (name) was walking down the sidewalk from where her job was located, at first he walked right past her not giving her a glance before stepping back and turning his body to her, a smile on his face.

“you look like someone who knows how to play guitar.” (name) grinned, if he widened his mouth a little more he would be practically showing her all of his teeth. asuka looked him up and down puffing out a bit smoke that was left in her mouth, he was dressed very femininely in an all black outfit. a short thigh length skirt with a belt wrapped to his pelvis, a scarf engulfed his neck along with a zipped up leather jacket and the blonde wig that stuck itself onto his head, his face was caked up in aesthetically pleasing makeup.

she eyed the giant guitar case that looked like a shadow behind him, “and if i do?” she questioned dropping her cigar and stomping on it, preparing herself to go back inside, “i want you to join my band.” she blinked, “…huh?”

“i want you to join my band,” (name) repeated himself the smile on his face not wiping away, ‘he was really serious about this?’ asuka thought to herself as she crossed her arms and sighed getting ready to turn his offer down,,

“i don’t think my job will allow me too—“

“then quit.”

she blinked again, a laugh left her lips. “quit?” she mocked, “look—kid, whatever dream you have going on that you want me to join, isn’t gonna work, okay?” asuka explained motioning her hands around his figure, he continued to stare at her with that giant smile of his, “someone of us have rent that we need to pay so… just get going back to your mom’s house, alright?” she pushed the front of the door open as a slight jingle filled the place, letting workers know of a customer that entered. (name) eyed her tilting his head as he opened his mouth,,

“who says i don’t have money?”

then followed the twins, they were younger than (name) and asuka, both being highschool dropouts and refusing to stay inside. always hanging around under highways or in tunnels, no one batted an eye at them since they were teenagers, no one cared and they didn’t mind that, they had no future so what were they supposed to do? their parents weren’t in their lives anymore, all they had was each other and their company.

haru was sat crouched down onto the floor sticking different amounts of candy into his mouth as the sound of wrappers opening filled his ears. aiko had her back against the wall, music playing in her headphones as she bobbed her head up and down to what was playing. it’s been a few weeks since they ran away from home, they weren’t sure what to do now, all they had planned out was grabbing their belongings and sprinting out the door the minute their parents had left them alone.

the twins never had good parental figures in their lives, they spent their whole childhoods filled with arguments, beatings, and neglect. bruises covered half of their bodies, scars that never faded away stuck to them like glue, they never felt what love was from an adult. but that was all in the past now, it didn’t matter to them anymore. as long as they stuck together then everything would be fine between them, they’ve done it before, they will do it again.

“you’re gonna ruin your teeth if you keep doing that.”

haru stuck his head up at the voice, he stopped chewing as he took in the figure next to him. “mind your own business, uh…” haru trailed off, the person infront of him was dressed in a tight velvet tanktop that cinched at the waist and rode up at the end, their baggy jeans were a light blue and hid their dark grey shoes. what really got him confused was the black tailbone length hair that covered their slightly broad shoulders, “…lady?”

(name) let out a giggle at this moving a piece of his wig hair behind his ear, “i get that a lot,” he said crossing his arms as he directed his attention to aiko, she was staring at him intently. her posture was slightly anxious as she tore one part of her headphones away from her ear. “where are your parents?”

aiko hesitated to respond, who was this guy? “gone.” she replied, (name) looked at the two with remorse moving one of his hands to cover his heart as he frowned. “so what are you doing here, you guys don’t have any family members that wanna take care of the two of you?” (name) asked watching as the two gulped, ducking their heads as they looked away from him.

“why does it matter to you?” haru asked standing up from where he was squatting, he slightly towered over (name), his head standing closely to the young boys collarbone area.

“ ‘cause i know how you feel.”

(name) flickered his eyes between the two, a sad expression marking itself onto his lips as he pressed onto his heel, walking away from them with his hands rested in his pockets. haru and aiko watched as he stepped away from them, aiko suddenly felt her body be comforted by his words, her eyes stuck on him before quickly grabbing her things as she ran after the man. haru widened his eyes at her sudden actions, “aiko, where are you going?!” he yelled after her as his chest started to beat heavily, “i don’t know!”

(name) waved his hand towards the people behind the curtain, signaling them to start the backtrack. music started to play as he strummed his guitar, the lyrics of one of the bands songs dripped out of his mouth like a waterfall. arisu tuned this out, staring intently at the supposed “girl” on stage. he was getting drunk off of her movements, the way she strummed her fingers on the strings of the guitar made him imagine how rough they would be when he held her hand, how her plump round lips pressed against the microphone slightly made him want to kiss them badly, feel their soft texture against his, heart beating quickly as he examined all the movements she made.

arisu blinked once and suddenly the whole show was already over. he saw the actual band that was performing tonight bowing their heads as they did their encore, everyone clapped their hands and cheered at them. ‘what time was it?’ arisu thought gathering himself together, karube and chōta grabbed him by the arms with smiles on their talking about how good the performance was. he only nodded at them, still thinking about the girl prior. he was desperate in wanting to find her, straining his neck up looking from the crowd of people as if he’d find a performer in a lobby and not backstage.

his eyes blurred by blonde hair, cranking his neck behind him. it was her. oh, would you look at that, he did find “her”. arisu removed his arms from his friends grips, ignoring their worried yelling and apologizing as he pushed past different people. (name) was unbothered, walking through empty hallways not paying attention to the man that was seemingly following him. he pushed past a door that said ‘employees only,’ the cold air nipped at his exposed skin as he shivered grabbing his biceps and rubbing them to create friction.

“i told you to bring a sweater tonight,” asuka spat at him as he walked towards her direction. the rest of his bandmates were loading their equipment into their van, haru and aiko were snipping at each other for who knows what, just regular sibling banter. “it was ruining my outfit..” (name) mumbled wiping off some mucus that slightly dripped down his nose, “oh yeah? well you’re also ruining your immune system by exposing yourself like that, you know if you get sick then we’re gonna have to push back upcoming performances.”

(name) snorted at her bending over as he clutched his stomach, “sorry—sorry, it’s just, you sound like a school teacher right now,” he said through laughs waving his hand at her as he imitated a teacher that would force a girl to cover her shoulders. asuka rolled her eyes at him, she was always protective of him. she was protective of all of the members actually, they were her family and she was the mother of the group. always worrying about their health, waking them up early on concert days, forcing them to go to sleep early and making sure they always get sufficient sleep. keeping (name) from straining his voice, preventing aiko from breaking the skin of her fingertips since she refused to use a guitar pick sometimes, always wasting her money on haru whenever he broke his drumsticks.

she swore she found gray hairs sometimes hidden in her hair, she wasn’t even that old yet she didn’t need all to have all of this stress be put on her. but then again, she was happy with her life, this was definitely better than sitting in a dry end job where she only got paid a few bucks an hour. at least she had fun exploring differnt areas of japan she’d never been through before. asuka flicked her fingers against (name)’s forehead. he cringed back as he soothed the area she touched with his palm.

“ow! what was that for?” (name) yelped narrowing his eyes at her, asuka only shrugged as she prevented a laugh from exiting her at the reaction he gave. arisu rounded the corner of the venue, he had to go back to the front of the building since he was stopped by a staff member the moment he had gotten to the employee’s only door (name) had gone through. his desperate breaths caused fog to come out of his mouth as his eyes landed on the woman he was searching for. she stood there with her back turned towards him, she was speaking to someone, the bassist of her group. a van was parked next to her as she held keys in her hands, they were about to leave but arisu wasn’t gonna let that happen until he finally spoke to her.

“excuse me!”

(name) whipped his head around, watching as a nicely dressed man ran towards his direction, (name) recognized him as one of the men that sat in the front row, “uh, sorry! no autographs tonight! we’re very busy at the moment,” (name) told him as arisu finally stood infront of him, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. arisu panted shaking his head as he swallowed down his dry mouth, “no, no, thats—thats not what i’m here for..”

asuka raised her eyebrow at this, aiko and haru nudged their heads through her arm that was set on the edge of the vans door. (name) peeked his interest as the man stated this, “look, i know this is out of the blue and you probably get tons of guys asking you this but—“ arisu started, grabbing a rose from the inside of his coat, where the hell did he get that from? “i think you’re very beautiful, i wanna have the honor of maybe courting you?” he cringed as he said this, he sucked at being a romantic.

(name)’s lips were agape, the rest of his members stared at arisu as they took in his confession. “i—uh..” (name) stammered planting his eyes at the rose in arisu’s hands, hesitating to take it, “i’m sorry, but… you know i’m a guy right?” arisu’s eye enlarged themselves as he soaked in the mans words, he did not.

despite this, arisu still felt his heart quicken even more. eye’s brightening as the words left his mouth before he could even think, “i don’t care.” now it was (name)’s turn to widen his eyes, “y-you don’t?” (name) stammered feeling his lip corners turning upwards as he finally took the flower from arisu’s hand, twiddling the leaves between his fingers,

“my father he’s uh, holding an event tomorrow night,” arisu said with a smile watching as (name) stared at him with heart-shaped flecks in his eyes, “i was hoping that maybe you could accompany me?“

the man infront of him frowned at the end of the sentence, dropping his gaze back to the flower in his hand, “if i go… then i’ll have to bring my band members with me, where i go they go. i won’t allow for us to be separated.” arisu looked back at the van, asuka, aiko and haru were sending glares his way the same way overprotective siblings would do whenever they’re family members were getting asked out, “i can arrange for that to happen.”

the remaining three perked up at this, the twins gaining a smile on their lips as (name) looked back at them reciprocating said smile, “alright then.” he replied as heat rose to his cheeks, his teeth shining in the streets lights. the two chatted for a little bit, exchanging numbers in the process before asuka had to interrupt them, reminding (name) about the strict schedule they had to complete tonight. the duo bid goodbyes before (name) remembered they never told each other what they were called.

“oh, i’m (name) by the way! i don’t think i told you that until now.” he giggled waving his hand back, “arisu.” (name)’s body stiffened smile slightly faltering but not enough until arisu finally left the area, aiko stared at him with furrowed brows and big eyes, the other two perked up as they watched arisu walk away. “..arisu.” (name) repeated as his jaw locked in place, looks like they finally found their guy.

“quit struggling so much!”

haru was whisper yelling as him and aiko dragged a man’s tied up body through a white corridor, arisu’s father. (name) and asuka ran up ahead, making sure the coast was clear before helping the twins. you see, maybe the band wasn’t just performing at venues and small clubs. (name) knew what he was doing by dressing up as a woman, he knew how seductive and attractive he was, the amount of desperate people that would flock to him by being a crossdressing man. and… what was he doing, exactly? it was obvious.

seducing the heirs of rich businessmen and woman, sometimes taking an extra cautious step by romancing said men and woman. the band wasn’t rich by any means, yes they were popular but not popular enough to make good money. his members did what they could to help themselves, getting jobs and staying a few extra hours to get enough pay, robbing unsuspecting people, sometimes even going an extra mile and stealing from wishing fountains if they were desperate enough.

but that was getting tiring, they all knew this wasn’t going to be enough to support them, so… they did what they needed to do. steal from rich people and kill them once they were done with the job all with the help of (name)’s appearance. as he batted his eyelashes and pouted his lips, telling them how he never went anywhere without his band members, if he left them then he’d never know what to do with himself.

asuka opened the door that lead outside with her back, it was pitch black out, the only light that was on was the one from their van that was being driven by one of her old colleagues. “jeez, for such an old guy you really know how to move your body,” aiko teased him suggestively as they planted the man against dryed up leaves that covered the floor.

(name) pushed the lit up cigarette against his painted lips as he looked at the man bounded by black ropes. for such an ugly guy, he sure did make a good-looking son, arisu must’ve gotten his beauty from his mother instead. to be honest, (name) felt a little bad for tricking arisu. he seemed sweet and caring, far nicer than some of the rich kids he seduced that constantly groped him and called him slightly degrading things because of the way he dressed up. maybe have an actual date with him if they were in a different circumstance.

arisu was nothing but sweet to him and his friends as they got here. introducing him to his best friends karube and chōta, offering to grab drinks for all of them not noticing the way aiko examined the ballroom they were placed in, counting all the bodyguards and security cameras that were high on the walls, the way haru would spit his wine out into a trash can, how (name) took notes of all the people that went in and out of the place, and asuka’s body language that made her look like she was on high alert once she came back from her “bathroom break.”

arisu only focused on how gorgeous (name) looked tonight. the black dress that he wore that was cut asymmetrically at the ends enhacing his body and curves. the only thing covering his mind was the dream about the day he would propose to this man once they’re relationship developed more and the wedding dress he’d wear once he walked down the aisle. he was obsessed with him, arisu never thought he’d be attracted to a guy before, only ever going after woman, remember, he’s a fuckboy or was a fuckboy. but now, he can’t imagine making love to someone that wasn’t (name).

the four had left a few minutes early, telling him how they needed to get something “important” done tonight. arisu of course walked them out, even when they persisted that he didn’t need to, but allowing him anyways as they saw how lovey-dovey he looked when (name) sent his eyes towards his direction. he let out a content sigh as (name) planted a kiss on the mole that was painted onto his cheekbone, waving a goodbye as their van drove out of his dad’s driveway.

haru walked over to (name), handing him a pistol as he gave him a cheeky smile, the piercing on his lip glittering as he walked away to let him deal with his designated part of the plan. (name) cocked the gun in his hand, throwing away the cigar as he saw arisu’s father stare at him in fear, twitching his body in an attempt to run away from him. “settle down, why don’t you. you’re making this more harder for me than it should be,” he said with anger, his body was tired and he was desperately wishing to go home to take a nap. he aimed his hands towards him, eyes darkening as his pointer finger hovered over the trigger.

two bangs echoed into the air. (name) sighed as he looked at the corpse of the guy that they had been chasing for about awhile now. arisu’s father was rich, very rich. he was practically the number one guy at the top of their drawn out hit list, he didn’t expect that getting to him would be this fast, this easy. he turned away from the body, walking towards their vehicle before noticing that his friends eyes were wide, wide enough that they would fall out of their sockets. (name) stopped in his tracks furrowing his brows, they had never once been shocked about him killing someone before. aiko pointed her finger at something behind him, she looked like her breath was stuck in her throat.

turning his head into the direction they were looking at, the color drained from his face as he saw what had shocked them so much. shit.

“arisu...”

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[qveerthe0ry]

Your Ride, Best Trip

Summary: You sleep with your boyfriend Marcus for the first time Word Count: 9,001 Pairing: Marcus Pike x f! afab! reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, first time, vaginal fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected PIV, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, so much fluff, so much kissing Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar as ALWAYS. Love you homies I'm kissing u both <3 A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time

Marcus Pike is perfect. 

He’s your dream man. 

He’s sweet. He brings you flowers just because, and he’s remembered your go-to coffee order, and he never goes to bed without texting you goodnight.

He’s effortlessly kind. He offers to walk your dog for you when you aren’t feeling well enough to get out of bed, and he always does the dishes when you cook for him, and he makes sure his bathroom is stocked with all the personal products you use at your own place. 

He’s fucking handsome. His smile is straight and pearly white, and his big brown eyes warm you up, and the way his broad shoulders fill out those suits he wears to work never fails to make you weak in the knees. 

He’s so smart, and he’s so funny, and he’s all yours… finally. 

See, when he hadn’t so much as kissed you by your third date, you wigged out a bit. 

How could you not? He’d been so thoughtful and caring and all you wanted was to feel those pillowy, soft lips against your own. 

So you asked him what was up, and he told you.

Divorced. Broken engagement. A whole year of therapy to pinpoint what went wrong, what he could change, and how he could do better, how he could feel better. And then, he said, he found you— like fate— when he wasn’t even looking, when he least expected it. 

You had no problem taking it slow. You’re still convinced you’d wait forever for him, as perfect as he is.

After too many little dates to count, he told you he wanted to be your boyfriend, if you’d have him.

You told him you’d love for him to be your boyfriend, of course. You’d be crazy not too. 

And then he finally kissed you.

It was slow and hesitant, but it still made your heart race, made your stomach do flips. He cut it off before it could become anything more than chaste, and left your front door with a sheepish goodnight. 

You’ve kissed a lot since then. You never really enjoyed kissing that much, before. It always just seemed like a means to and end, a formality before moving on to other things. 

But now it’s one of your favorite ways to pass the time with him. Waiting for an Uber to take you downtown, finally getting to his place on Friday after a long work week, cuddling in bed together with an old movie playing.

You haven’t made out with anyone this much since high school. And you enjoy it, you do, but Jesus Christ, he’s been your boyfriend for three weeks now and you need him. 

It doesn’t help that he touches you like you’re the last person on earth. His hands are so big and they’re gentle and electric when they find the bit of skin just under the hem of your shirt. 

You think it’s going to happen, this time. Friday night takeout has long been abandoned in the living room. You’re in his bed, in his clothes, and his pinky is teasing at the waistband of his sweats that you’re wearing. 

His tongue in your mouth is making you dizzy, and there’s no more blood in your brain with all of it rushing between your legs. You whimper, and you arch against him, and you want him so bad but you can’t say it. You’d feel bad, making him rush when he’s made it clear he wants to take things slow. 

When his lips leave yours, you open your eyes, and find his pupils obstructing all the deep, dark brown you adore. 

You have to squeeze your thighs together for a miniscule amount of relief. He notices. Of course he does. Damn that Quantico training. 

“Sweetheart—”

His eyes flicker down to your lips. You’re sure they look obscene, red and slick from nearly an hour of him sucking and nibbling on them. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

You don’t know why you say it, but you are sorry. You feel so bad for wanting him like this, desperate and aching in his bed, over eager. 

“Don’t be,” he shakes his head and gives you a reluctant smile, a smile that tells you you’re going to fall asleep extremely sexually frustrated. 

But it’s fine. He’s so worth it. 

You give him a soft smile back, and lean in to peck his lips. But he pulls away with his brow furrowed. 

“What do you want?” 

His voice is gentle when he asks. So is his hand on your back, under his shirt you’ve claimed. But it doesn’t stop that fight or flight response from kicking in. 

“Nothing! Nothing, Marcus, I’m okay— I’m great. Just wanna cuddle.” 

But the creases in his forehead don’t smooth out, and his hand ceases the soothing circles across your spine. 

“You’re lying.” 

You sigh and close your eyes. 

“I’m not lying, I’m just— I don’t want to push you to move too fast.” 

You expect him to be angry. But when you open your eyes again, his own have taken on that puppy-like quality you usually love. Right now, it just makes you feel guilty. 

“I’ve been lying, too,” Marcus whispers. 

It’s your turn to scrunch your face up. Your blood runs cold, waiting for him to elaborate. A million scenarios run through your head at lighting speed— all worse and worse until your breathing picks up and you beg him with your eyes to just get on with it—

“I have a small dick.” 

His face is so flushed. He can’t meet your gaze.

He’s staring at the bedsheets between you, and you’re both just silent for a long, awkward moment. 

“I mean— the divorce and all that, it’s all true. And I did want to keep from moving too fast. But— the last few weeks I guess I’ve just been… stalling?” 

He finally looks up from the threads to gauge your reaction. 

“Marcus…”

“I get it, okay? If you wanna go. I know I lied, and you didn’t sign up for—“

“Marcus.”

You watch his shoulders raise and his mouth snap shut, and he looks terrified.

“I don’t want to leave. You didn’t lie. It’s just— you really think that would bother me?” 

He lets out a big breath, and the tension in his body eases up a little. 

“I don’t know. Most people were… bothered. I guess,” he shrugs. 

You cradle his jaw in your hand, let the day-old stubble tickle the pad of your thumb as you think about how to best navigate this conversation. 

Because saying ‘I don’t care’ seems too dismissive. But you don’t. You couldn’t possibly care less about what’s in his pants, when everything else about him has made you fall so, so deep already. But you don’t want to make it sound like it’s something you have to even bargain with, like the pros outweigh the cons, like it even is a con. Because it’s not. 

“I’m not bothered,” you finally tell him. 

He still doesn’t meet your eyes, in fact, he rolls his. 

“You don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay, I’ve heard it all. I know I’ve lead you on—”

“Jesus,” you cut him off, “what did— who made you feel this way?” 

He finally looks at you. His eyes are wide and he looks vulnerable and hesitant. You swipe away some hair that’s fallen flat across his scrunched forehead. 

“Everyone?” 

You sigh his name, and you’re tentative when you lean forward to kiss him, softly, when he lets you. 

He looks less terrified when you pull back. You try to smile, but this whole interaction has left such a bad taste in your mouth that it feels more like a grimace when your lips turn up. 

“That’s— Fucking awful, to be frank. Pardon my French.”

He chuckles, but his gaze falls away from your face again. His sheets are not that interesting to look at. 

“Really, Marcus. I mean— maybe if someone’s just looking for a hookup, then I get it. You want something specific, whatever. But why would you ever think you were leading me on?

All you’ve done is be sweet to me, and shown interest in me, and taken care of me. Unless you’re like, secretly an ax murderer, or committing some kind of major tax fraud, you haven’t led me on at all.”

He’s still not looking at you. Why won’t he look at you, and believe you? 

“I don’t want to sound dismissive. I understand you’re insecure about it. I’m insecure about some things too. I don’t want to invalidate that. But I need you to know that the last thing I care about is how big your dick is.” 

There. He’s looking at you. He looks a little mortified, but he’s finally meeting your gaze. 

“Really?”

You scoff. 

“Really really.”

A reluctant smile tugs on the corner of his pretty mouth. 

“Why?”

“Because— now, don’t go getting a big head about this— you’re perfect. Like, everything about you. You’re sweet and you make me laugh and you’re gorgeous.”

His face flushes, but he lets you continue.

“And I’m in this, with you. I want this to go somewhere. And I think we’re super compatible.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

“Good, so… we’re on the same page then.”

You watch him lick his lips, and his hand that’s been loosely draped over your waist finally starts back up, drawing little circles across the base of your spine. 

“And… There’s other reasons,” you mumble, voice low with a hint of mischief.

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah… For one, your hands.”

“My hands?”

He emphasizes his question with a squeeze of your hip, and you giggle at the way it tickles, and also with a bit of embarrassment. 

“Yeah… They’re uh… big. I look at them a lot. Honestly surprised you haven’t noticed.”

He huffs, lets his big hand travel further up the shirt on your back. 

“Your nails are always trimmed, and— your fingers are long and thick. I’ve thought about them a lot.”

He breathes your name, and now you realize you’re the one avoiding eye contact. When you look back, his pupils are all blown out again, and it spurs you on.

“And I love to give head.”

“Jesus.”

“And the bigger it is, the quicker I get tired. I could stay down there all night, if my jaw didn’t get sore.” 

“Sweetheart—”

“Really, it’s one of my favorite things, making someone fall apart under my mouth. But I hate gagging and choking my way through it. It’s tedious.”

He says your name again, this time with a warning tone. 

You bite your lip to keep anything from tumbling from your mouth unwarranted. 

“You’re not lying.”

His eyes dart back and forth across your face, and you shake your head in lieu of opening your mouth again. 

“Fuck.”

It’s the first time Marcus has cursed in front of you. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and your clit throbs. 

“I’ve thought about you so much. Your lips, you have to know, right? How plump and full they are… I think about them at night, when I’m touching myself.” 

That’s convincing enough, apparently. Before you can embarrass yourself any further with your confessions, he surges forward to press those plush lips against yours and groans into your mouth. 

His hand flattens against your back and pulls, manhandling you closer to him. Your fingers find his silky hair and tangle in the strands, holding on for dear life at this shift between the two of you. 

You can’t muster up an ounce of shame. Finally, you have Marcus where you want him, pressed against you. You hike a leg over one of his, getting it between your thighs for even the smallest amount of friction. 

You feel him gasp, chest inflating to press even closer against yours. It’s a rush, finally getting this after waiting so long. 

Your hands scramble to get under his white t-shirt. His skin is hot, even against your sweaty palms. There’s so much to feel, the slight swell of his stomach, and the muscle of his flank, the soft but firm pecs. 

You whine when he pulls away from your lips. He shushes you gently, and you open your eyes to watch his slick lips and his hooded eyes and flushed face disappear briefly, just quick enough to shed his shirt. 

Smooth, is the first thing that comes to mind. His tan skin has no hair above his belly button, just the errant freckle here and there. His nipples are peaked, and you reach out to press your thumb against one before your mind catches up to the action, before you realize you’re gawking. 

But when your hand stutters against his skin and you look up at him, he’s smirking, amused and turned on. You falter a bit, mouth open while you search for something to say, some sort of excuse as to why you’re devouring him like you’re starved. 

He saves you though, with his low, grumbled voice. 

“I think about you, too. All the time.” 

You dig your nails into his soft skin at his admission, scraping against his chest. 

“You know that? You think I haven’t had you a million different ways in my head?” 

Your heart stops beating, and you stop breathing, and the heat between your legs only gets heavier and wetter. 

“You want me to show you, sweetheart?”

Your heartbeat comes back as a rush in your ears, and you squeeze the meat of his pec as you nod. 

He kisses you again, licks at your lips until you suck his tongue into your mouth, and now it’s just filthy. No more pretense, it’s been months of pretense, and neither of you have any more patience. 

His fingers seek out your own nipple, a tight bud protruding through cloth, and he rolls it between his fingers gently over the material of his shirt. 

“You come over and wear my clothes like this, and you think you don’t drive me crazy?” 

The words are grumbled into your mouth, against your cheek, then your jaw and your neck as he seeks out more of you to kiss. 

“I don’t wash them when you leave. I wear them and I smell you all day and it makes me feel insane.”

You mewl at his admission. Everything he says now is so fucking raw, now that you’ve broken down his walls. He shushes you again, grabs the hem of his shirt to help you pull it over your head. 

He curses when he sees you. It’s the first time. You’ve both been toeing this line of modesty, and maybe you’d be more nervous if you weren’t careening toward the pleasure he’s promised you. 

He coaxes you to lie on your back beside him, and his mouth works a slow trail down the side of your neck, nipping and suckling until he finally gets your nipple in his mouth. You arch into it, encouraging him with a hand tangled in his thick hair. You feel his groan reverberating around your rib cage when you scrape your nails back and forth across his scalp. You need him, like nothing you’ve ever craved before. 

“Marcus—”

“I know, I know.”

His syrupy voice isn’t as soothing as his lips, though, when he cranes his neck back up to kiss you again. He nips there, a sneaky distraction from the way his fingers trail down to circle your navel, and then even farther, teasing the hem of his sweatpants you’re wearing. His featherlight touch makes you jolt when it finally registers, your stomach jumping under his fingers. 

“Can I?”

You’re nodding against his lips, into the kiss, and then whining when his hand breaches the waistband. Those thick, long fingers flutter across your mound. Your breath catches on every wiggle. But when his fingers splay out, half on one side of your slit and half on the other, teasing your lips, you exhale hard and press up into his touch. 

“Oh, are you that sensitive?”

His voice is half-teasing, half-shocked, as he mumbles into the tingling skin of your neck. 

“It’s just you.” 

And it’s true. There’s no ego-stroking here. You’ve waited too long to get this and now you’re fiending, any touch is a relief. 

And he’s huffing into that skin under your ear, like you’re playing it up too much, but he bites down on the skin anyway and groans. 

“So sweet, huh?”

You make a disgruntled noise but there’s not enough blood in your brain to get your point across. Instead, you wrap your hand around his meaty forearm and force his fingers lower, where you know your underwear is a soaking, sticky mess. 

He curses and pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. You’re certain you know what he sees, blown out pupils and sweat-slick forehead and bitten, shiny lips. 

“That’s all for me?” 

There’s a sly smile tugging at one side of his mouth, just barely there, but you see it in the way one dimple grows more than the other. You nod in answer, scrape your nails up the hair on his arm and watch him shudder.

But he retreats from between your legs, and chuckles when you squeeze his forearm tighter in protest. The sound makes you shiver, all low and gruff and teasing. But he softens the blow with another one of his kisses, heated and sloppy and needy. His hands, always so gentle and careful and big, find the creases between your hips and thighs. It makes you arch up into the touch and whimper again, and you wonder briefly if you’ll ever not be desperate for him again. 

He watches your face twist up when he pulls away from you, watches the way your breasts move with every heave of your lungs. His dark eyes travel lower, where his thumbs sear circles into your hips, and his tongue swipes across his lower lip. 

“Can I take these off, sweetheart?” 

The tenderness in his voice fills you with a completely different warmth, white hot flames simmering into a blaze of feelings you aren’t sure you’ve ever truly experienced before. You let it consume you. 

“Yes, please.”

He hums a satisfied little noise as his fingers hook under the waistband. He takes his time, making sure to catch your underwear as well. It’s a sight, his huge hands working your only remaining cover down, down, until you’re bare to him and he’s gently cradling each of your calves to fully remove the last of your clothes. 

Those hands work their way back up, attentive, memorizing the valleys and peaks of your flesh, the nuances of your skin, the way it bends over your joints. Before you know it, he’s propped himself up beside you once again, one arm supporting his weight so his other hand can work its way between your thighs. 

You drag your eyes away from his fingers to look at him, only to find him focused on your face. 

It’s a few long moments before either of you move or speak or breathe. It’s you who breaks the spell, only because you know you’re at the very edge of control. 

“You sure you’re ready?”

You reach up to cradle his neck in your hand. It’s hot to the touch, and so are his ears, the tips of them burning a cute pink where your thumb grazes them. His eyes get softer and crinkle even more around the edges.

“I’m positive… can’t believe I psyched myself out for so long.”

He huffs and shakes his head at himself. You’re ready to kiss that apprehension away again, but his hand on your thigh pulls, as gentle as everything else he’s done, to spread yourself open for him. 

The cool air makes your breath catch in your throat. Or maybe it’s the anticipation. So close to what you’ve thought about every single night for weeks. Months– since the day you first met, if you’re being honest. 

He keeps his eyes on you, and you hold his gaze even though it burns. But only until his fingers brush you. Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling, mouth open wide in shock at how electric just one simple touch feels. 

His finger glides so easily around your opening, and you hear him gasp as he explores all the slick.

“You’re soaked.” 

His voice is thick with awe, as another finger joins in on the fun, gathering up your arousal. But they don’t breach, and you feel like he’s teasing, readying a whine in protest. 

The noise gets stuck in your throat when they trail up, gliding through your swollen folds. They find your clit, full and begging for attention, and circle with hardly any pressure. 

Oh, he’s fucking good at this. 

There’s no apprehension in his movements. It’s like he’s read a fucking manual on how to press all your buttons. The light, slick touches are building up that heat in your gut quicker than you can ever remember with anyone else. 

You’re stunned silent, eyes pinched shut and your head tilted back into the mattress, digging in for even an ounce of grounding. 

“That feel good, sweetheart?”

Your vocal chords come back to life, finally, as you whimper from the gentle drag of his fingers. 

“You have no idea.”

He chuckles, and you open your eyes to see his own still trained on your face. 

“I think I do,” he mumbles.

He shifts, presses his hips into you, and the hard line of him digs into your side. 

You clench around nothing, and your clit pulses under the pads of his fingers. He curses and responds to the needy little bud, applying more pressure and speeding up those little circles. 

All the while he grinds his hips into you, soft little movements that sync up with his hand, and you want him so bad. You’re losing patience by the second, the only thing keeping you from pouncing is the way his fingers work you over so perfectly it’s like you’re touching yourself. 

You’re not, though, and that becomes perfectly clear when one thick, long finger presses lower and slips into you. It slides so easily, despite how much girth it has on one of your own. You both make stuttered noises at the feeling, and Marcus’ lips capture your own to let them mingle together. 

Your hips egg him on, lifting and shifting, but he is teasing now. It’s a slow drag in and out, his finger pin straight, and if he hadn’t been so diligent this entire time you’d think he didn’t know what he was doing. 

But you whine, a soft plea of his name into his mouth, and he obliges. That thick finger crooks up, just as the heel of his hand flattens against your clit, and stars bloom behind your eyelids. 

You groan, and he laps it up before his lips leave yours. 

“That’s it. This what you needed?”

A pathetic whimper comes out in response as you nod your head. His finger presses harder into that perfect spot, and his palm slides over your wet clit. You’re clenching around him, savoring the feeling of being filled by him, working your hips down and back to meet his motions. It grows and grows, that feeling in your gut, so close that you can’t be bothered to worry about what needy noises you’re making.

He mutters another frantic curse, and his hips jump to press his cock into you harder. 

“I gotta taste you, sweetheart. Can I? Will you let me?” 

You nod so fast you’re surprised your head doesn’t detach from your neck. He soothes that frenzied part of your brain with another kiss, slips his finger out of you, and moves to get between your legs. 

You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him still, even if it’s just for a moment. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and the drag of his sweatpants across your sensitive center makes you arch up into him for more, to seek out more friction. 

He just huffs a laugh against your lips and angles his hips away, denying you the simple pleasure of grinding against the tent in his pants. 

“Not yet. Let me take my time with you. You’ve waited so long, right? I’ll make it up to you, you just gotta let me.” 

You huff. 

You should’ve known Marcus would be just as much of an infuriating tease in the bedroom as he is outside of it. The trivia dates and the cocky smirk he always sported when he won, the little bets he’d make on how a movie’s plot was going to twist, the refusal to ever let you pay for dinner— it’s all adding up now, and you can’t believe you didn’t expect it. 

Marcus Pike is a smug little prick underneath the humble, sheepish grins, and it’s hot and it’s yours. 

“Put your money where your mouth is,” you breathe. 

He chuckles and trails said mouth down the length of your naked body. You watch his plump lips explore your skin and leave wet patches littered in their wake, shiny little stakes claiming you. His five o’clock shadow is just long enough to abrade your skin a bit, delightful little pricks that make your muscles jump involuntarily.

He makes it to your mound before looking up at you. His brown eyes are mostly obstructed by his pupils, but they shine all glassy in the dim lamplight of his bedroom. His shitty grin has faded and he looks determined, and it steals the breath from your lungs. 

He teases some more, of course he does. His lips peck and tickle the creases of your thighs, the skin of your outer lips, and the very tip of your hood before you finally see his pink tongue slip out. 

All of a sudden you can’t watch, can only let your head fall back and close your eyes and drown in the anticipation. 

The pointed tip of his tongue just barely grazes you, tracing a razor-thin line from your dripping hole all the way to your mound. It tickles, and your breath comes in faster as he does it again, and again, and again. 

Just before you can beg for more, he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit. He laps at your folds, slow and calculated, and the satisfied noises tumble out of you as you feel his taste buds glide against you. 

All you can think to do is find his hair and use it to hang on. Your legs spread wider, and he takes the encouragement. His tongue finds your clit, so swollen and sensitive with need by now. He circles it, then wiggles his tongue back and forth, playing with it, playing with you. He shakes his head from side to side to give you more, presses even more firmly, and the heavy feeling in your gut tightens tenfold. 

Your hips start to move on their own, rocking up into his face, helping his motions along. He groans with it, muffled and wet between your legs. 

A delirious thought gets stuck in your horny brain. You don’t know how you’ll ever let him leave this spot between your legs now that you’ve finally got him here. It’s so wet and warm and incredible, and your nails dig into his scalp to drive the point home, to try and lock him here forever. 

His voice snaps you from your reverent thoughts, thick and deep. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. You taste so good, looks so fucking pretty.” 

You brave a glance down at him, his red soaked mouth and his dark eyes that are boring holes into your pussy. One of his hands releases its grip on your thigh to glide across the dripping mess of your center. He toys with you, spreading you open with splayed fingers, watching the way your folds bend to his whim. With it exposed and protruding and aching for his touch, he leans down to wrap his plush lips around your clit and suckle. Curses fly from your lips at the concentrated attention, and it’s so so so fucking good you’re sure you’re going combust. 

His hand slips lower, and his mouth doesn’t stop, and you’re dangerously close to tipping over the edge. And then two thick fingers slip easily into you, immediately seeking out that spot inside you and tapping there. 

It’s blinding pressure overwhelming the two places you need him most. He drums up a rhythm that would remind you of a dance, maybe, if your brain were cognitive enough to form a coherent thought. Down with his head, engulfing your clit, and up with his fingers, squeezing that spongy spot inside you. Over and over, he works you with soft grunts against your cunt until your fingers lock up in his hair and your hips start to shake. 

“Please don’t stop,” you pant, “I’m so close.” 

To his credit, and this is more than you can say for the majority of men you’ve been with, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he speed up. He keeps at you exactly how you need it, moaning strung-out little noises into your center until you’re dropping. 

All the wind is knocked out of you. Your hips jolt into his face and he takes it in stride, lapping at your clit when the seal of his lips is broken from your erratic movements. You tremble through it, clench around his fingers, and squeeze his head between your thighs as you ride it out on his tongue. 

As the shivers roll through you, Marcus’ fingers slow, and though he can’t remove his tongue from you because of how your legs have him in a headlock, he stills his tongue so you can take the last bit of what you need from him. 

His breathing is just as heavy as yours, wheezing out moans and muffled words of encouragement. When you feel yourself slipping down from your peak, you let go of the death grip on his hair, and open your legs, and grant yourself a few deep breaths before you dare to look down at him. 

He carefully, cautiously pulls his fingers out of you. A comforting ‘shhh’ is cooed into the sweaty skin of your thigh when you make a strangled sound. Both of his hands splay out on either hip, a light and grounding touch accompanied by the kisses he’s dropping all over the skin he can reach. 

Finally, you grant yourself a peek down at him. The first thing you notice is how his broad shoulders are, heaving with baited breath. Then, his normally pristine hair, sticking out every which way and then some from your frantic fingers. 

His face is red, you guess from exertion. Or maybe you really did restrict some blood flow. Christ. That’s what he gets, being so goddamn good at that. 

And then his lips. His lips. Those lips that up until now you’ve only ever kissed or dreamed of. They’re even more plump, swollen and slick with you, shining just like his chin is. 

You don’t know what to say. You know you want to kiss him. Funny, considering that’s how all this started, but you’re dying to see what you taste like on him. 

Luckily, he breaks the silence, after licking those delectable lips and clearing his throat. 

“So… How’d it compare?” 

Your face contorts on its own, surprised at the sudden and intrusive question. 

“Pardon?”

But then he laughs, pressing those wet dimples into your heated skin to hide them. 

“To all those thoughts you told me about. How’d I do?” 

You laugh too then, a weary huff of breath as you sit up. 

“Don’t go fishing for compliments,” you tease, though there’s not much heat behind it with how out of breath you still are. 

He goes to respond, but you get a hand in his hair again and coax him up. You meet him halfway, swallowing his surprised noise when you finally get those pillowy lips against yours and lick at them, his tongue, his teeth, until you aren’t sure what taste is you and what is him. Until you realize you’re flat on your back again as he hovers over you, still between your thighs. 

You both hum when the kiss breaks, and you rest your forehead against his, nuzzle his nose and sigh at the floaty feeling in your limbs. 

“Better,” you whisper. 

You feel his grin bump into your own. You nip at it, playful and languid as you finally begin to get some of your bearings back. 

And then you’re shocked back into the realization that there’s all this smooth skin right in front of you, this hunk of a man hovering above, the one who just melted your brain into a fuzzy little mold of itself. You grab his hips as he licks into your mouth and scrape your nails up his flanks, unhurried, while the touch makes him shiver. 

You feel out the strength in his pecs, those broad shoulders you often daydream about, and then you push. Catching him off guard, he gasps as he loses his balance and tumbles to the side, and then laughs when you press him into the mattress and straddle his hips. 

You laugh along with him, but it slowly tapers off as his hands find your naked skin— your stomach and hips and back and then your ass, where it hovers just above that bulge in his sweatpants. 

He’s looking up at you with what you can only describe as horny apprehension. 

His eyelids droop over his dilated pupils, but his brow is all pinched up in the middle. His mouth hangs open, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. 

So you kiss him, soft and gentle, as gentle as he’s been with you all night. His sigh washes heat across your cheeks, and you feel him relax under you just a little. 

But then you shift in his grasp, lower your ass, and press your soaking center to his crotch. You whimper at the feeling of his sweatpants dragging across your sensitive, wet cunt. He moans and bites at your bottom lip maybe a little too hard. 

But it’s okay. He pulls away and pants your name and you settle there, your weight pressed down on his cock. Your lips find that smooth patch in his stubble, biting that chiseled jaw, licking down the curve of his neck, his shoulder, up to his ear. You delight in every goosebump you draw, and breathe in his scent before you speak up. 

“Will you let me suck it?” 

All his breath rushes out in a big gust. His fingertips dig into your naked sides, and he nods. 

“Please.” 

It’s a barely-there whisper. You pull away from that silky soft skin where his pulse is hammering to check his reaction. 

He’s begging with his eyes. It makes you smirk, sitting up straighter, trailing your fingers down the front of his body until you reach the drawstring of his sweatpants. 

You’re still sitting on his groin, though. You give a little playful wiggle, and his hips rock up to grind harder. But you don’t want to tease any more. Every moment spent teasing him, you’re also denying yourself, and you’ve been patient for long enough. 

So you shift down the bed, nestled between his legs, and get to work on the tie of his pants. Every time your fingertips brush the hair below his belly button, he sucks in a breath. You finally get the thing untied, and look up one last time for permission before you start to drag the material down, grabbing his boxers as you go. 

Your eyes stay trained on his face instead of staring at his crotch, especially as he wiggles a bit and lifts his legs to remove his pants. You don’t want to stare, and you also don’t want to not look, you don’t want him to be uncomfortable at all with you. 

You want it to be perfect. You want to make him feel the way he makes you feel. 

He nods his head, and you cease averting your eyes to trail down his body, the bushy happy trail and the neatly trimmed hair above his cock and his cock. 

His little cock. 

It is, indeed, on the smaller side. Probably one of the smallest you’ve seen in real life. Three and half or four inches long, if you had to guess. 

And it’s so pretty, cut and on the thicker side, the slightest upward curve that makes your pussy tighten around nothing. 

You dive right in, press your nose to all the hair while you kiss at the base of him, humming when his cock twitches against the side of your face. He smells so good and clean, like always, but down here there’s even more of that Marcus smell that always lingers beneath his soap and cologne, salty and warm.

When you drag your eyes up to him, his head’s thrown back against the pillows, not looking at you. You want him to look, you want him to see how much you’re going to enjoy this. 

You’ll make him look, one way or another. 

For now, you just lathe your tongue up the underside of him, then back down to tickle his balls, all the while enjoying how his prick jerks under the attention. 

He’s making little noises, mostly puffs of breath and gasps, and his hands twist up in the sheets beside you. You grab one of them, slow and steady, and lead it to the back of your head. 

And then, you finally get your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, and you slowly sink down until he’s entirely in your mouth. 

It’s not until your nose presses against the flatness above his cock do you hear him release a strangled groan. That’s when you look back up at him and find him staring down, mouth agape, locked on your mouthful of him. 

You pull back up, wiggling your tongue as you go, memorizing the ridges and hairs and veins. Your eyes are locked on his, and his are locked on your lips, so you try to give him a show. 

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, nod your head up and down to let his cockhead tickle your tastebuds. A gruff noise leaves him, hearty and hoarse, and you want to smile but you’re not in a position to. 

Instead, you flick your tongue against that little band of tissue just under his slit, and his hips stutter as his grip on the back of your head tightens. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

Now you do smile, your lips upturned against the head of his cock, and it jerks against your mouth while you kiss it, until you envelop it once more. 

You hum around him, at the weighted feeling of him occupying your mouth, how smooth it feels against your tongue and how nice it is to take him all the way in and not gag or choke or drool. 

It makes your cunt ache, makes you crave him even more, makes you want to be full of him everywhere. 

You reach a hand down to touch yourself. You’re still dripping, can feel it all slipping from your entrance and cooling your skin in the air conditioning. You’ve had just enough time to recover from the mess Marcus made of you. You’re sensitive but not too sensitive, when you trace your clit with your fingertips and moan around the mouthful of cock. 

“Oh fuck, are you touching yourself?”

Your eyes flicker open and look up to him. He’s clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth as his nostrils flare. You hum and nod your head to answer, his cock slipping back and forth through the ring of your lips. He whimpers, and his head tips back against the mattress again, and it makes you speed up the efforts on both him and yourself. 

He curses, soft little chants, kneading the back of your neck in his big hand as you suck him in over and over. You close your eyes and lose yourself in it for a bit, the way he slips so easily in and out, the way his hips move just a little, like he’s trying not to but he can’t help it. The sounds, his grunts and your sloppy mouth and your fingers working over your slick folds. 

He says your name. 

You hum, use your free hand to play with the fuzzy skin of his balls. 

He says your name again, and this time it’s urgent, almost panicked. 

“Sweetheart, stop, please.”

You do, immediately. You open your mouth wide and let him fall from your lips and unhand him while you look at his exerted face. 

“Are you okay?”

He huffs, and his cock bobs beside your face. 

“I’m so okay. I just— did you want me to…? It’s okay if you don’t, I just didn’t want it to be over—”

“Marcus.” 

His heated babbling stops as he clamps his mouth shut. His broad shoulders lift and drop with his heading breath.

“Do you want to fuck me?” 

You smooth your hands across the scattered hair on his thighs when you ask. His prick twitches again at your question. 

“I— Yeah. Yes. I do.”

He looks almost guilty about it, with his wide eyes and the bashful expression spreading across his face. 

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you tell him, “I’ve wanted it for way too long.”

His breath leaves him in a shuddery exhale, something like relief or awe. 

“Yeah? You still want it?” 

His hand skates from the back of your neck to your jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek. 

“Please, Marcus. Give it to me.” 

You turn your head to kiss his thumb, a sloppy little peck before you take it into your mouth. You smile around it when he groans, and bite it before it slips away. 

“Can you get on the edge of the bed for me?” 

You can, but not without throwing a cheeky ‘yes sir’ his way. You’re not sure if the noise he makes is from arousal or a lack of  amusement, but there will be plenty of time to explore that later. 

For now, you do as he says. You scoot so your ass is just about to fall off the side of his bed. The wooden bed frame is the perfect height to rest your heels on, and as Marcus slips a pillow under your head, you’re as comfortable as ever.

The mattress dips when he gets up to stand in front of you. The lamplight from the nightstand is really doing things for him. The slight sheen of sweat on his chest glistens, as does the wetness at his temples where his hair is starting to curl up. All those lean muscles have never been more apparent than they are now, the golden glow creating beautiful shadows across his naked body. 

He’s so hot. 

It doesn’t help that his big, warm hands snake up your bare thighs as he gets between them. His small dick stands at attention, pointing toward the ceiling, and you feel your pussy spasm with anticipation. 

“Please,” you whisper. 

He nods, steps closer as you spread your legs wider and wiggle even further off the bed. 

“Perfect, sweetheart.”

He leans over you with one hand on the bed to brace himself. The other is wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and he looks down to watch it as he glides it through your slit. 

“Are you ready?”

You nod and hum your affirmative. He takes the go-ahead and his cockhead slides across your clit, down, so slowly, until it catches on the rim of your hole and you both gasp at the feeling. 

You look down to watch too, lifting up on your elbows to see the moment your pussy lets him sink inside, fluttering around him, engulfing his prick one inch at a time. 

You knew it. You fucking knew his cock was perfect but still you’re shocked at the way the curve makes him drag across your upper wall. And when his hips are flush with yours, all that pressure is concentrated at that bundle of nerve endings inside of you, and you’re going to lose your mind if he doesn’t move.

“Oh fuck.”

You let yourself flop back in the bed, but reach for his hand that’s supporting his weight. Your nails scrabble for purchase against the skin of his wrist as you curse again, your walls contracting around him as you tense. 

“Fuck, Marcus, please.”

You’re so far past caring about how desperate you sound. You need him, the textbook definition of it; it’s an absolute necessity that he fucks you. 

He curses, and you realize you’ve closed your eyes. When you open them, his jaw is hanging and he’s looking at you, your face, like it’s something he’s never seen before. Like he’s shocked you’re here in front of him. 

But his hips are still, and you’re helpless to the way your own cant up to urge him, and finally he’s pulling back out. The slow drag against the most tender spot inside you rips a noise from your throat, involuntary. He pulls almost all the way out, until the head of his dick is kissing your opening and you can feel how he stretches the tight ring of muscles. 

And then in again, almost as slowly, and you’re already out of breath. The feeling steals all the wind from your lungs. It’s setting you on fire, perfect friction against just the right spot, the one that’s still tender and alight from your previous orgasm. 

“It’s so fucking good,” you manage to choke out. 

Marcus moans above you, and his hips snap into you, and his free hand finds your waist so he can dig his nails into your flesh. 

“It is, fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking good.”

A bead of sweat drips from his nose and lands on your belly, and that seems to make you snap out of it. 

“Fuck me. Fuck me hard, please, make me come.”

You watch his mouth quirk up into a pretty smirk, dimples on full display. 

“Yes ma’am.”

Your giggles only last for a moment, dissolving into a high whine when he slides out of you and back in, a harsh thrust of his hips that doesn’t let up. 

He fucks you. You try to watch; it’s too hot not to. His biceps flex respectively, one with his effort to hold himself above you, and the other where he holds you in place by your waist. 

His neck, the one vein there that’s protruding as he bares his teeth. The way his chest is rapidly rising and falling as he drives into you. His big brown eyes, even darker now as he succumbs to the feeling of you. 

But you just can’t keep your eyes open for long. It feels too good, you’re too close to the edge. Your insides are so tender and alight from the first time you came. Every single thrust inside you is taking you apart and building your second so quickly. Your eyelids droop closed and there’s already stars blooming behind them. 

His little noises are louder, like this. Grunts and gasps and moans, falling over you, all for you. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you warn him.

Your back arches to encourage his pace. His skin slaps into yours faster as he groans.

“Thank god, me too. What do you need, sweetheart?” 

Without a verbal answer to his strained question, you slip your hand down to press against your throbbing clit. 

“Shit, yeah, play with your pussy for me. I wanna— fuck— let me see you come. Looks so gorgeous.”

His voice is thick in his throat, and you work your fingers over yourself faster. You’re clenching wildly around him, you can’t help it. Every thrust in sets your nerves on fire, almost too much, but not quite. His grunts are turning into growls, uninhibited and primal. You feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to find him standing up straight. 

Both hands grab your hips now, and that little angle change makes him grind even harder into your g-spot, and you’re tumbling over the edge. It’s been building under the surface for so long that when it hits, it’s blinding. There’s static in your toes that washes over you, up, up, dragging a fiery heat with it that consumes your center and makes your head fuzzy. 

There’s screaming. 

You’re screaming. Your eyes are clenched so tight, as are your fingers, all your joints, your pussy, around Marcus as he fucks you through it with sloppy thrusts. 

“That’s it, oh my god, sweetheart, you— fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m— where?”

“In me.”

Your throat is scratchy when you answer, and you don’t have any time to elaborate on why that’s not a bad idea. You’re still coming, wave after wave of warmth rolling across your body, and you’re vaguely aware of how wet everything is, the sound of him fucking you even more obscene. 

His shout doesn’t quite rival yours, but you feel it when he empties inside of you. His cock jerks and and twitches, wringing out every little bit of pleasure from you, and you think you’re still coming, the pinpricks of pleasure are still too intense to be aftershocks. 

He stays pressed as deep as he can be as his stomach convulses and his thighs shake, just like yours do where they’ve somehow wrapped around him. Your eyes open again, and the lamplight is so bright now, his breathing is so loud. He grunts and pulls out a bit, then presses back in, and again, until it falters and his whole body slumps. 

His top half collapses onto you, his little breaths huff and tickle the tingling skin of your belly. Your own breath comes out in a weak moan, and it takes all the strength you can muster just to run your fingers through his sweaty hair. 

“Jesus,” he says.

Your name cascading off his lips in such a strung out voice that it makes you clench around him again. 

“Huh?” 

God, how are you ever going to move again? 

“You uh… Is that a common occurrence?”

Christ, why is he using such big words? 

“What are you talking about?” 

He clears his throat. 

“You like— You squirted?”

You laugh, one delirious huff. It makes his head rock on your jiggling belly. 

“I what?”

You gather the will to look down at him. His mouth is open, surprised and amused, and his eyes are shiny and bright. 

“Yeah, like, a lot.”

He’s still inside you but softening, and his own chuckles make him slip out. 

You lift up on your elbows as he stands up straight and the evidence is clear. The hair above his dick and high on his thighs is all dark and soaked. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

The sheets on the edge of the bed are absolutely ruined, and you pray he’s one of those men that has a mattress protector. You’re more than a little mortified, and the way he’s staring at you, silent, is beginning to make you squirmy.

“What?” 

“Why do you seem so surprised?”

His fingertips are feather-light across your thighs, and you shiver. 

“I’ve never actually… done that? I would have warned you.”

He makes a pained sound, and those fingertips turn into a tight grip just above your knees. 

He doesn’t speak up. Instead, he lies on the bed beside you. He holds himself by his elbow, but that hand strokes your scalp while the other traces up and down your thigh, your hips, your breasts, anything he can reach. You avoid the topic at hand to relax into it, and you think you’re finally coming down as that boneless feeling washes over you. 

You’re vaguely aware of his cum dripping out of you, but the sheets are a lost cause anyway. You just watch his lax face, the way the wrinkles in his brow are all smoothed out, the way his eyes follow the patterns he’s drawing on your body. 

He catches you staring. His gaze meets yours and he smiles and it’s sunny. It warms you through, despite all the sweat that’s cooling on your body. 

“Hi,” he whispers. 

You giggle, and he does too. He tries to hold it in by biting his lip, but it’s no use. You will your exhausted bones to shift and face him, and he presses his lips to yours and they meld together.

It’s languid, unhurried, just reacquainting after too long apart. It feels a little goofy, with how you’re both smiling so wide, but it calms you into settling down after such a high. 

Both of your breathing seems even, when you part. 

“That was—”

“It’s never—”

You both chuckle. 

“Ladies first.”

You feel shy now. You can’t imagine why, but a fluttery feeling overtakes your stomach. 

“I was just gonna say… That was better than all those times I imagined it.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but his smile grows even wider. His eyes flicker from yours to the sheets between you, and you think maybe he feels as bashful as you do. 

“It’s never been that good.”

A sigh escapes him when he speaks, and his nervous gaze lands on you when his face falls into something more earnest. 

It takes your breath away. Because it’s never been that good for you either, and isn’t that such a perfect coincidence?

You tug him to you by the back of his neck, eat up the surprised little sound he makes against your mouth. 

“When can we go again?”

[shapelytimber]

Disco queens d'un soir : Jeanne Brakmar and Harriette des Doigts !!

I mean, it would have been a shame to do nothing with the blond wig

[PRINT] - [COMMISSIONS]

Translation and explanation for the names and process below vvv

Why Jeanne Brakmar : 'Jeanne' is the feminine of Jean, and 'Brakmar' is a silly vulgar word that means "erect dick" in french slang (it sounds pretty close to Vicquemare) (and the phrase "fuck me, Jeanne brakmar" said in an heavy french accent is just too funny)

Why Harriette des doigts : It was @quijicroix 's idea ! It translates to "Harriette fingers/fingering" kgkgkgn 'du bois' and 'des doigts' are prononced nearly the same (yes the 'gts' is silent, because french is a language of clowns)

(I had an alternative name that I thought was very funny, but incomprehensible to anyone who's not french : "Comment Dom Costeau" kfknglfn is it a drag name ? Not really. But I hope the french speackers reading this will appreciate this tastefull word plays)

I think having both drag names be a dirty derivative of their name reinforce the cheap drag/first time doing drag feel of the drawing :)

It's been too long since I've drawn Disco Elysium fanart :) I really should do it more often

PS : Deso les francophones pour l'utilisation du mot brakmar tel un vieux gars de 50 ans au pmu lfkckgkglcl j'ai jamais dit j'etais pas beauf

Btw si vous avez la refs du 'disco queens d'un soir', bravo a vous, on ne récupérera jamais ces 2h30 perdus