#time passes and it is so damn beautiful sometimes
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umnitsa · 3 months ago
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You know what I love about Deadpool and Wolverine?
We get to see Wolverine's versions through the comics. We get to see things that ARE part of his life story in the comics (PATCH, the brown and yellow uniform) and real variants, the what if universes (Age of Apocalypse Logan, Weapon Omega - the one with only one hand). And when I come in contact with new fans, the MCU fans, they don't know what those Logans are. For the new fans, they are all variants. So it TICKLES ME TO NO END, as a long-time reader, seeing people calling Patch a Variant, honest to god. I love it. I LOVE IT. I can't begin to tell you how much I love it. I love that you all got to see him, in some way, through few seconds. A version of a character from a comic book I used to read almost 30 years ago. (Also, dude, that crucified Wolverine... It made me WEEP, it's a reference to a Marc Silvestri comic cover from 1989, and it's so beautiful. <3 <3 <3 I remember seeing those in the newsstands, and I remember how beautiful and scary I thought it was, and how curious I was. I didn't really had the money, and my mom sure wouldn't let that comic get anywhere close to me - I have a vagina, you know. I started reading Marvel the year after that and I bought a used copy of this particular comic later. Such a beautiful, haunting cover.)
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aceyalonso · 20 days ago
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your brother won't like this - MAX VERSTAPPEN
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pairing : max verstappen x norris!reader kinktober day 13 - deepthroating
summary : max can't seem to escape the norris' after that terrible race in Austria. The only difference? Y/n was actually worth Max's time (and stamina)
warnings/notes : story is set during the Austrian grand prix, swearing, drinking, smut, oral (m!receiving), unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!) choking, slight overstimulation, praise kink, degrading kink, name-calling, squirting, creampie, dirty talk
word count : 3.4k
a/n : god i love this trope
main masterlist | kinktober masterlist
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After Lando and Max's disappointing crash in Austria, Max was fuming as he stormed into the hotel bar near the pool, his 5th-place finish feeling like a bitter defeat. As he approached the bar, he collided with someone, spilling his drink.
"Watch where you're going!" Max snapped, glaring at the person. But as he looked closer, his anger faded, replaced by surprise. Standing before him was a stunning young woman who looked remarkably like Lando.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there," she apologized, her voice soft and melodic. She bent down to help clean up the spilled drink, giving Max an eyeful of her ample cleavage straining against her low-cut dress.
"Let me buy you a drink," Y/n insisted, her dark eyes meeting Max's gaze. "I should have been paying more attention. Please, allow me to make it up to you."
She gestured to the bar stool beside her. "Have a seat and let me buy you a drink. It's the least I can do."
Max hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and sat down, intrigued by this mysterious woman who seemed so familiar. As she signaled the bartender, he couldn't help but admire her figure, her curves accentuated by dress that she wore.
"I'm Y/n, by the way," she introduced herself, extending her hand. "And you are?"
"Max," he replied, shaking her soft hand. "Nice to meet you, Y/n."
As the bartender brought over their drinks, Y/n leaned in closer, her perfume tantalizing his senses. "So, Max, what brings you here tonight?" she asked with a playful smile, her fingers lightly brushing against his arm.
He sighed and took a swig of his drink, the cool liquid soothing his throat. "Just a rough day at work, you know how it is. Some asshole really got under my skin today."
Y/n nodded sympathetically, her dark eyes filled with understanding. "I'm sorry to hear that. Work can be so stressful sometimes."
"What about you?" Max asked, curious about the beautiful stranger. "What brings you to Austria?"
"Oh, I'm just passing through," Y/n replied casually, sipping her own drink. "Visiting my brother actually. He's here for some kind of race or something."
Max chuckled, shaking his head. "Figures. Seems like everyone and their brother is in town for that damn race."
As they continued to chat, Max found himself drawn to Y/n's warm personality and easygoing nature. She had a way of putting him at ease, her laughter like music to his ears.
As the night wore on, Max and Y/n continued to drink and converse, their initial tension melting away into a comfortable camaraderie. The alcohol flowed freely, and soon they were laughing and joking like old friends.
Y/n regaled Max with tales of her travels, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she described the various places she'd been. Max, in turn, shared stories from his own life, the stresses of work momentarily forgotten in the company of this captivating woman.
Their knees brushed under the table, sending a jolt of electricity through Max's body. He glanced at Y/n, noticing the way her lips curved into a coy smile as she caught his gaze. The air between them crackled with a palpable tension, a mutual attraction that was becoming harder to ignore.
Y/n leaned in closer, her hand resting lightly on Max's thigh. "You know, Max," she purred, her voice low and seductive, "I've really enjoyed talking with you tonight."
Her fingers traced lazy circles on his leg, inching higher with each pass. Max swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest as he met her smoldering gaze.
"I've enjoyed it too," he managed to say, his voice rough with desire.
Y/n's hand slid further up his thigh, her touch bold and unapologetic. "Maybe we should take this somewhere more private," she suggested, her lips hovering mere inches from his. "Somewhere we can... get to know each other better."
Max's breath caught in his throat, his body responding eagerly to her advances. He nodded, his eyes dark with lust as he imagined all the delicious things they could do together.
Without another word, Y/n stood and took Max's hand, leading him away from the crowded bar.
As they waited for the elevator, Max's hands found their way to Y/n's waist, pulling her close against his body. She let out a soft moan as his lips found the sensitive skin of her neck, his tongue tracing the delicate curve of her throat.
Y/n tilted her head back, giving Max better access to her neck as she pressed herself against him. Her hands slid up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she lost herself in the sensation of his touch.
The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open to reveal an empty car. Max swept Y/n inside, his mouth never leaving her skin as he backed her against the wall, his body pinning hers in place.
The doors closed, and the elevator began its ascent to its destination. But Max and Y/n barely noticed, too consumed by their growing desire for one another. Max's hands roamed her curves, squeezing and caressing as Y/n arched into his touch, desperate for more.
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The elevator reached their floor, the doors sliding open with a soft ding. Max and Y/n stumbled out, their lips locked in a passionate kiss as they made their way down the hallway to her room.
Max pushed Y/n against the wall as soon as they entered her hotel room, his lips trailing hot kisses along her shoulders. He tugged at the straps of her dress, letting them fall to the sides, exposing her smooth skin.
"You know, you never gave me your last name," he murmured between kisses, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh. "It's not fair, since I gave you mine."
Y/n let out a breathy moan, arching into his touch as his hands explored her body. "Mmm, maybe I wanted to keep some mystery," she teased, her fingers tangling in his hair.
He nipped at her earlobe, his breath hot against her skin. "Well, I think it's time you revealed all your secrets to me," he growled, his hands sliding under her dress to cup her ass.
She hesitates for a moment, moaning as his lips make contact with the skin on her neck. "Norris," she breathes out. "That's my last name."
As Max's lips trailed along Y/n's neck, leaving a path of hickeys in their wake, the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. "Norris... as in Lando Norris's sister?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Y/n's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and guilt flashing across her face. "You know my brother?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Max chuckled darkly, his hands gripping her hips possessively. "Know him? That asshole is the one who ruined my day," he growled, nipping at her sensitive skin. "But it looks like his sister might just make it all better."
Y/n let out a breathy moan, her head falling back as Max's lips and teeth worked their magic on her neck. She tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for more of his touch.
Max led Y/n to the bed, sitting down on the edge and pulling her to kneel between his legs. He leaned back, his hands resting on his thighs as he looked down at her with a hungry gaze.
"I want you to make me feel better, Y/n," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I want you to show me just how sorry you are for your brother's behavior."
Y/n bit her lip, her eyes dark with desire as she looked up at him. Slowly, she reached for his belt, her fingers making quick work of the buckle. She tugged his pants and boxers down, freeing his hard, throbbing cock.
"I'm so sorry, Max," she purred, her hand wrapping around his shaft. "Let me make it up to you."
With that, she leaned forward, her tongue darting out to lick the tip of his cock. Max groaned, his head falling back as he savored the sensation of her warm, wet mouth on his most sensitive flesh.
Y/n released Max's cock from her lips, a string of saliva connecting her mouth to the tip. She placed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along his shaft, her tongue swirling around the sensitive skin.
Max watched her through hooded eyes, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she worked her way down his length. Her hands gripped his thighs, her nails digging into his flesh as she took him deeper into her mouth.
"Fuck, Y/n," Max groaned, his hips bucking involuntarily as she deepthroated him. "Your mouth feels so fucking good."
Y/n hummed in response, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body. She bobbed her head up and down, taking him to the back of her throat with each movement.
Y/n took Max deep into her throat, her nose pressing against his pelvis as she swallowed around his cock. Saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth, coating his shaft in a glistening sheen.
Max's hands flew to her hair, gripping the silky strands as he guided her head, thrusting shallowly into her mouth. "That's it, baby," he groaned, his voice rough with pleasure. "Take it all like a good girl."
She moaned around his cock, the sound muffled by his thick flesh. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard as her tongue swirled around the sensitive head. Her hands slid up his thighs, fingers teasing the sensitive skin behind his balls.
Max looked down at Y/n, his eyes dark with lust as he watched her worship his cock. "Fuck, Norris," he growled, his grip on her hair tightening. "You look so pathetic like this, choking on my dick."
Y/n's eyes watered, tears streaming down her cheeks as she gagged on his length. But she didn't pull away, instead doubling her efforts, determined to prove herself to him.
Max's hips rocked faster, fucking her face with abandon. "I bet your brother would be ashamed to see you like this," he taunted, his voice dripping with cruel amusement. "His precious sister, nothing more than a slutty little cocksucker."
Max's eyes glinted with malicious glee as he continued to fuck Y/n's face, his grip on her hair unrelenting. "Keep this up, and maybe I'll let your brother win the damn championship," he sneered, his words laced with cruelty. "Wouldn't that be nice? To have your slutty little mouth wrapped around my cock, all for your brother's success?"
Y/n whimpered, the sound muffled by his thick shaft. Tears streamed down her face, her mascara running in dark rivulets. But she didn't resist, instead hollowing her cheeks and sucking harder, desperate to please him.
Max's hips snapped faster, his cock hitting the back of her throat with each brutal thrust. "Fuck, your mouth feels so good," he groaned, his head falling back in ecstasy. "I might just keep you as my personal little cocksucker."
His thrusts became more erratic, his balls tightening as he neared his climax. "I'm gonna cum down your throat," he warned, his voice strained with impending release. "And you're going to swallow every last drop like a good little slut."
Y/n moaned in response, the vibrations pushing Max over the edge. With a guttural groan, he exploded in her mouth, his hot seed filling her throat. Y/n swallowed greedily, her tongue lapping at his shaft to catch every last drop.
Y/n released Max's cock from her lips, a mixture of cum and saliva dripping from the corner of her mouth. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with a heady mix of submission and desire.
He grinned down at her, his spent cock still twitching with aftershocks of pleasure. "You did well, Norris," he praised, his thumb wiping away the stray drops of cum from her lips. "Maybe your brother will have a shot at that championship after all."
Max pulled Y/n to her feet, his hands roaming her curves possessively. "If you really want your brother to win though, you'll have to do more than just suck my dick," he growled, his eyes dark with lust.
He pushed her back onto the bed, crawling over her and pinning her wrists above her head. "I want this tight little pussy," he demanded, grinding his hardening cock against her clothed core. "I want to fuck you until you're screaming my name."
Y/n looked up at Max, her eyes blazing with defiance. "I don't care about my brother's career," she declared, her voice strong and unwavering. "He's his own person, and I'm mine. My pleasure is what matters to me right now, not his success on the track."
She bucked her hips against Max's, her core aching for his touch. "Fuck me because you want me, not because my brother pissed you off and you want payback," she demanded, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Make me feel good, Max. Make me forget about everything except the feeling of your cock inside me."
Max captured Y/n's lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth to taste her. He broke the kiss, his eyes dark with desire as he ordered, "Take that dress off. I want to see every inch of your gorgeous body."
Y/n sat up, her hands trembling with anticipation as she reached for the zipper of her dress. She pulled it down slowly, revealing the creamy skin of her back inch by inch. The dress fell away, pooling at her feet and leaving her clad in nothing but a lacy black bra and matching panties.
Max's eyes roamed over Y/n's body, taking in the constellation of moles that dotted her skin. He leaned in, pressing soft kisses to each one he encountered, his lips lingering on her sensitive flesh.
She shivered at the sensation, her body responding to his touch. She arched into him, her hands tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. "Max," she breathed, her voice heavy with desire. "Please, I need you."
Max stood up, his eyes hungrily devouring Y/n's exposed body. "Get on your hands and knees," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "I want to see all of you."
Y/n complied, positioning herself on the bed as instructed. Max stepped behind her, his hands gripping her ass and spreading her cheeks apart. He pulled her panties down, exposing her glistening pussy to his hungry gaze.
"Fuck, you're so wet," he groaned, his fingers dipping between her folds to tease her entrance. "I can't wait to bury my cock in this tight little cunt."
He thrust into Y/n with a single, powerful stroke, his thick cock splitting her open. The combination of her wetness and the leftover saliva from her earlier ministrations served as a makeshift lube, allowing him to slide in deep.
Y/n let out a sharp cry, her body struggling to accommodate his impressive size. "Slow down," she pleaded, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. "You're so fucking big."
Max paused, giving Y/n a moment to adjust to his size. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he whispered in her ear. "Relax, baby," he cooed, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her hips. "I'll make you feel so good, I promise."
With that, he began to move, his hips rocking against her ass in a slow, steady rhythm. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through Y/n's body, her walls clenching around his thick shaft.
Max picked up the pace, his hips slamming against Y/n's ass with bruising force. The bed creaked beneath them, the headboard banging against the wall as he fucked her with wild abandon.
"Fuck, your pussy feels so good," he grunted, his fingers digging into the meat of her hips. "So fucking tight and wet."
Y/n could only moan in response, her body rocked forward with each powerful thrust. "Yes, yes, fuck me harder," she cried out, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the sheets. "Ruin me with that big fucking cock."
Max obliged, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his release. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with their moans and grunts of pleasure. Y/n's pussy clenched around him, her orgasm building with each stroke of his cock against her G-spot.
Y/n's moans grew louder, her curses echoing off the walls as Max pounded into her. He brought his hand down on her ass, the sharp slap of skin on skin punctuating his thrusts.
"Fuck, you're so loud," he growled, his voice strained with pleasure. "I can't have you alerting the whole hotel to what a dirty little slut you are."
With that, he wrapped a hand around her neck, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp for air. Y/n's moans turned to whimpers, her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm as Max continued to fuck her through it.
Max's grip on Y/n's neck tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he growled, "Shut the fuck up, you dirty little slut."
Y/n whimpered, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. She tried to nod, but the lack of oxygen made it difficult. Her vision began to blur, the edges of her consciousness fading as Max continued to pound into her.
Just as she thought she might pass out, Max released his grip, allowing her to gasp for air. "Breathe," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "I'm not done with you yet."
Y/n gasped for air, her lungs burning as she struggled to fill them with much-needed oxygen. Her moans mixed with her ragged breaths, creating a symphony of pleasure and desperation.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chanted, her body trembling as another orgasm crashed over her. "I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."
Her words dissolved into a scream as she squirted all over Max's cock, her pussy clenching and fluttering around his thick shaft. The sensation pushed Max over the edge, his own orgasm ripping through him like a freight train.
Max fucked Y/n through his orgasm, his hips jerking erratically as he emptied himself inside her. His cum flooded her pussy, so much that it began to leak out around his still-twitching cock.
Y/n whimpered, her body overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled so completely. She could feel Max's seed dripping down her thighs, marking her as his.
Max collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He nuzzled into her neck, pressing soft kisses to her sweat-slicked skin. "Fuck, that was intense," he murmured, his voice hoarse with satisfaction.
He noticed Y/n's labored breathing, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. He pulled back, his eyes searching her face for any signs of distress.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. "Did I push you too far?"
She shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "No, I'm fine," she assured him, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "It was intense, but in the best possible way."
Y/n's body went limp, her thighs quivering as she collapsed onto the bed. She cursed under her breath, her words a jumbled mix of expletives and praise for the mind-blowing sex she had just experienced.
"Fuck, that was so good," she moaned, her hand reaching down to touch her sensitive, well-fucked pussy. "I can't believe how hard you made me cum."
Max laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he looked down at Y/n's trembling form. "I may have gotten a bit carried away," he admitted, his fingers tracing the curve of her hip. "Your brother really pissed me off today, and I guess I took it out on you."
She shivered at his touch, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, if this is what happens when you're mad at him, maybe he should piss you off more often," she teased, her voice still hoarse from her earlier cries of pleasure.
Max chuckled, his hand sliding up Y/n's side to cup her breast. "Careful what you wish for," he warned, his thumb brushing over her nipple. "I might just have to find more reasons to get angry with your brother."
Y/n arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips, "As long as it means I get to feel this good, I think I can live with that."
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for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore @nitiii
kinktober masterlist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world @lewishamiltonismybf
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endless-ineffabilities · 5 months ago
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chemical override
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
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a/n: i caved and did an actual Ewan fic! Given that the lad is more of a public persona nowadays, I reckon it's fine (?) This is pure self-indulgence for all my Ewan loves. May have a continuation but idk for now, enjoy!!
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
The reader and Ewan are paired for press interviews. Despite barely having any scenes together and only knowing each other in passing on set, the chemistry they share cannot be denied...
Your first round of press takes place in a primped up hotel suite in Paris, thanks to the team at HBO.
You are an up and coming actress, much like some of your costars in the show, but the pressure is heavier on you because you were entering in season two, whereas everyone was already well-acquainted with one another.
Your few scenes were mostly with Jace and Baela, so you grew close to Harry and Bethany.
However, the media team decided to pair you up with Ewan for the day. A little fun initiative was set by the team that a character from the Blacks would be do press with a counterpart from the Greens - hence, yourself and Ewan.
You're nervous as you walk down the hallway, unable to fully pay attention to the instructions your lovely assistant gives you.
She tells you about the different interviewers for the day, bloggers and magazine writers from all over the world. She reminds you that each one will only be for a maximum of 5 minutes, so it shouldn't be too complicated. She smiles and eagerly says, "Take a deep breath, you got this!", as you reach the suite doors.
But in your mind, all you can recall is your first interaction with Ewan, almost a year ago right after the table read. You had nervously blurted out to him that Aemond is your favourite character, after he just asked, "How are you?". He laughed, said thank you, before he was pulled away in conversation by Tom.
You pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that things will fare better today. That you won't get all tongue-tied when those steel blue eyes land on you.
Upon entering the room, the team is quick to fuss over you. Sometimes you forget that you're actually an actress now. A celebrity, some might say. It all feels surreal and you have a inkling it won't ever stop being this way.
Ewan is already seated in front of the camera, and he stands to give you a hug as you finally walk over.
"Hey there, how are you?" he smiles widely, smelling like cigarettes and something muskier as he wraps his arms around you.
Unroll your tongue. Rework your brain. Calm down.
"Hey, Ewan!" you respond. "I'm doing great, happy to see you again."
"Well, I only wish we could have had more time together on set." Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to take your seat before he does the same. "But next season perhaps? Who knows?"
"Oh, sure." You settle in, pleased by the fact that your chairs are only about a foot apart. "We can both look forward to my character giving Aemond the arse kicking he deserves."
He laughs, eyes glinting with mischief. "Come on now, I was thinking our characters are actually quite compatible, no?"
"Well, I sure wouldn't want to step on Alys' shoes. She'd probably curse my character all the way to Yi Ti."
"Hmm," he hums, biting his lip. You can't help but hear Aemond when he does that. "I say you can always count on Aemond and Vhagar to come to the rescue of a beautiful maiden such as yourself."
Well, you'll be damned. Ewan, while still an introvert of his own sort, is as charming as can be. If he's turning it on to get himself hyped for the press, it's working.
It's definitely working on you, to say the least.
The media manager gives the signal for the first interview to begin, and a reporter walks in, all ready with prepared script in hand.
"Here we go," you mutter, facing forward.
"Good luck," Ewan replies.
You both shake the reporter's hand, and he introduces himself as Jared.
"So guys," Jared begins. "Why don't we start with you telling me a little bit about what we can expect from your characters this season?"
The question is easy, and it doesn't take long for you and Ewan to think it through. Jared asks a few more basic questions, before drawing the attention more to you.
"When you watched season one, did you have a favourite character?" he asks you.
You smile, "Oh, I mean, I have to say - and Ewan already knows this, by the way - that Aemond was my favourite character."
"Was?" Ewan says, feigning shock. "Unacceptable."
"Was... Is... " you shrug, rolling your eyes playfully, earning a laugh from Jared. "I think I might be more a Daemon girl now."
"Oh!" Jared exclaims happily. "Does Matt know about this?"
"I'll be sure to tell him - "
Ewan interjects, shaking his head at you, "There's no need to tell him, because I'll convert her back to Team Aemond in no time, trust me."
"Daemon is awesome, though," you say to him, smiling.
"Sure." Ewan makes a face like that fact doesn't matter. Wasn't he the one who said that Daemon would be the character he would most like to play if not Aemond?
"And Caraxes is my favourite dragon." You share a look with Jared, hoping he would agree.
"Yes!" Jared says. "Caraxes is the best dragon in the show, in my opinion."
"Ah, you're both wrong," Ewan says. "My Vhagar is the oldest and baddest dragon in all of the land."
"My Vhagar, he says," you joke. "Seems like someone still hasn't shed Aemond for this press tour."
"And I never will, darling." His gaze is intense when he turns to you, and you clear your throat to fight the warmth rushing to your cheeks.
"Alright, they're giving me the wrap-up," Jared thankfully breaks the tension. "It was a pleasure talking to you guys, congratulations on the new season!"
One interview down, and your nerves have already considerably subsided. Ewan tapping your arm to start up a conversation once more surely helps in distracting you.
In the best damn way possible.
"How do you think we did? That wasn't too bad, was it?"
"I think we did quite well," you casually offer a high five, but your heart skips a beat when Ewan interlaces your suspended hands for just a moment.
"I'm glad they paired me with you," Ewan says, after releasing your hand. You hold on to the armrests to keep your fingers from twitching.
"I am, too," you admit. "I am a fan of you, after all, but I think you already know that."
He blushes, "Well, that's not a bad thing. I think you're a fantastic actress. I must have seen your first film a good ten times."
"You mean my first and only film," you add humbly. "But thank you."
"Only film for now," he affirms. "No doubt this is only the beginning for you, darling. With your talent and your charisma, I'm sure you have potential scripts piled up already."
"I could say the same for you! Have you seen what your fans say about you online? You're the internet's new boyfriend, Ewan Mitchell."
The media manager announces the next interview, but Ewan follows up with a response for you under his breath, "I have seen some things. But when I have a girlfriend, I'll make sure she won't have to share me at all."
Oh, so apparently he is single. But wait - why is he telling you this?
You don't get to mull over that thought. For the time being, the next interview starts and you make sure you do a good job at what you're paid to do - promoting the series.
Not daydreaming about getting with a costar, for heaven's sake. Stay professional.
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You feel lightheaded after finishing the seventh - or had it been the eighth? - interview.
Your assistant delivers a coffee to you during the twenty-minute break. Ewan had stepped out to the balcony to have a smoke, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
He certainly is everything you expected him to be, and so much more. Insightful, cheeky, dedicated. An artist, through and through. He was in the business for all the right reasons, passion and respect for the craft.
If he had any flaws, you weren't privy to them yet. If there are any reasons for you not to be attracted to him, you didn't know what those were yet.
And with every flirtatious remark and pointed smile, you can't deny the hope blooming in you.
"Hey," he reappears, pulling you out of your musings. "I hope you don't mind that I smell of smoke."
No, you didn't, not when it's him.
"Don't worry about it," you reassure him. You tilt your head forward to take a sip of your coffee, but a lock of your hair falls in front of your face. Annoyed, you think to reach for it, but Ewan beats you to it, tucking it back in place.
"There you go, darling," he croons, gesturing for you to proceed in drinking.
"Th-thanks." His eyes don't leave yours as you take a slow sip.
"So," you say, desperate to break the silence, "which interview did you enjoy the most so far?"
"How can I possibly choose? I mean, I really liked the one with ComicSociety, the guy that said our characters have a lot of chemistry and should get together next season. He's right, I already told you!"
"Ohhh, sure, that will go down really well with the Blacks and Greens."
He smirks, "I don't see why not?"
"For one, Aemond is ensnared by Alys, and my character will never give up fighting for Rhaenyra. I just don't see it happening, Ewan."
"Right," he mutters thoughtfully, "there is still Alys in the picture."
"Still in the picture? With the amount of steamy scenes you two have lined up for season three, I'd say she will be Aemond's entire picture in and of herself."
"Hmm," he glances at you once, then looks down. Dare you think it, does he look disappointed?
"But hey," you add lightly, "maybe we can talk to Ryan and he can flip the entire script just for our characters."
"Yeah," his cheeky smile resurfaces, "maybe you can take Alys' place."
Take the place of Alys? Of Alys. Is he insinuating...
"Next round of interviews, guys!" The media manager announces to the room.
"Here we go again, darling," Ewan squeezes your hand once, before putting on his professional face once more.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
By the end of it all, not even caffeine can perk you up. You were exhausted, you and Ewan having finished four full hours of press.
Your assistant comes to your aid, ready to direct you back to your own hotel room.
"This has been such a pleasure, Ewan, really." You stand, this time initiating the hug.
He squeezes you gently, humming in your ear. When you pull apart, he says, "I honestly wouldn't mind trudging through hours and hours of press with you."
That's sweet of him. You're too tired to mask the warmth that rises to your cheeks. "And I feel the same. Today couldn't have gone any better."
"Truly, and listen, maybe we could - "
"Ewan!" The manager approaches. "I'm so sorry to rush with this, but we need to film just a quick soundbite with you for Aemond. Just two to three questions for the Max Tiktok account?"
"Oh, okay - " Ewan is reluctant to turn away from you.
"Perfect! If you could just stand there by the windows please..." The manager already has him by the arm, directing where he has to go.
"We have to go," your assistant says. "Still have to prep for tomorrow."
"I'll see you soon, Ewan!" you call out to him. "Thanks again."
He gives a half-hearted wave, dejected as he watches you walk out of the room.
"That wasn't too bad," you share with your assistant as you enter the elevators. "Not bad at all, actually."
"Oh, you did so well," she compliments. "It definitely helps with the press that you and Mr. Mitchell have such insane natural chemistry."
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
In the calm of your hotel room, you get ready for bed.
Just when you're about to finish with your nightly routine, your phone rings from your bedside table. You're quick to rush over, thinking it could be your assistant or your manager, with an urgent update about work.
But no - it's an unknown number. A UK number, as it appears.
Confused, you click answer anyway, putting it to your ear with a tentative, "Hello, who is this?"
"Hi, darling."
"Ewan?"
"Yeah, uhm, I hope I didn't disturb you - "
"Not at all," your answer comes out in a rushed breath.
"I also hope you don't mind that I got my assistant to ask your assistant to give me your number? It's what I wanted to ask you before you left today."
"Oh." You feel fully awake now, by some miracle, butterflies finding home in your stomach. "I don't mind. I... I should have given you my number, anyway. I have most of the cast's, in case I need to get a hold of you guys."
"Hmm, right," he says from the other end. You hear him calmly breathing, the sound strangely comforting, and wonder if he can hear the same from you.
He says, "I just wanted to keep hearing your voice. Didn't get enough of it today," and your heart just about stops.
"Oh. Okay," is all you are able to respond with.
"What are you doing?"
"Just... just getting ready for bed." Phone pressed to your ear, you shuffle around the room, putting some things back in place.
He says nothing for a few seconds, but you still hear his breathing, and some shuffling in the background. It occurs to you that he might just be as nervous as you are now.
Maybe.
"Listen," he finally says, "do you want to hear my pitch to Ryan about why our characters should get together next season?"
A genuine laugh escapes you. He sure is persistent. Playful, sure, but you're definitely willing to play along.
"Let's hear it."
"First," he says, "you have to renounce Daemon as your favourite character - "
"Not a chance."
" - and swear your love for Aemond."
"Keep dreaming."
He laughs, and you can only picture the corners of his eyes crinkling.
"Aww darling," he teases, "don't you love me?"
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💌 part two - part three
The OGs will know that the final line is a nod to my first ever Aemond fic! 🖤
Did this slightly delay my series works? Yes, yes it did. Do I regret it? For Ewan frickin Mitchell, I would never ~
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xazse · 2 months ago
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OK OK SO i was thinking, if you do another part to the satosugu merman au, that you could add omegaverse elements to it! and if you don’t want to do the merman au, then you could write something for regular satosugu (or just suguru 🤭) i’m NAWT picky, i just want my men to have more a/b/o fics 😣
Warnings: A/b/o dynamics + first time writing something like this so tips are appreciated!! + cumming inside + mentions of pregnancy + merman!SatoSugu + hybrid!men x human!reader + weird anatomy
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Satoru and Suguru have been acting weird, they’ve brought you little treasures from where they emerge before but now it’s an everyday thing, they’re constantly in your face asking if you like it and if you’ll put it in your nest? The hell is a nest? When you’d first ask they laughed and then all of a sudden got serious, did you honestly not know what that is?
“Different species remember guys?” You couldn’t count how many times they’ve been forgetting that you’re a human and not like them.
“Oh”
“Yeah”
You don’t mind the gifts, they always are extremely beautiful you make sure to give your thanks and each of them a little kiss on the cheek.
A few days have passed and things haven’t improved, there’s was even a moment where Suguru had snapped at you for giving Satoru an extra kiss, but Satoru was the one who insisted on it. If Suguru had asked you would have gladly given him one. When he had seen your hurt expression he profusely apologized and ushered to give you a hug.
You had brought up some more weird instances to them, but they couldn’t quite explain why they’d been acting like this. All they could describe it was a sense of needing you and needing to be near you at all times. You sometimes even slept at the beach to appease to their worries.
It was another one of those nights where the atmosphere was thick and you could already tell just by the men’s body language that they needed something.
They won’t outright say it though, they prefer when you initiate it.
You’re all relaxing on the beach halfway in the water, you’re just rambling on about your day and whatnot whilst Suguru and Satoru are struggling to not fuck you already. They hate how you can’t smell how needy they are. They hate how they can smell you and your delicious juices in between your thighs.
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It’s been many weeks since you’ve all last had sex, they could only touch their sodden slits and cocks only so much until their heats had hit and they hit like a damn truck.
They had a little bit of control not to show their bad behavior around you.
Suguru is tired though, he starts pressing little kisses to the column of your neck, which in turn has Satoru touching and groping your boobs.
Those little kisses turn into deep full on hickeys, Suguru is suckling on your neck completely lost. He grabs your hands and leads them to his slit, you’re so taken aback just how wet the inside is. His cute cock is slowly coaxing itself out of its sheath, fully being exposed to the cool air and dripping precum.
Both of their breathing has picked up as they get needier and needier by the second.
Satoru tears your shirt off, ripping it down the middle, you’re about to scold him but his mouth is latching onto your nipple and sucking hardly, he’s sucking like an uncontrolled newborn infant. You know your nipples are gonna be in a ton of pain tomorrow, but you’ll let him have it right now.
They look content right now, but are getting rougher, tough hands roaming all over your body. Is this what their heat was? You could hardly recognize the sweet men who made sure to always make sure you were okay.
Suguru pulls your shorts along with your panties off your body, pleading with you to sit on his cock, ride him till he cums he begs and begs. Glancing down at Satoru you see he’s jerking his cock off, it looks like he’s literally already came on himself but won’t stop pumping his cock.
You oblige and offer to take Suguru first, maneuvering yourself you hover over his cock, he’s so fucking excited and ready, he can’t wait to be the first to pump you full of his cum.
You slowly sink yourself down on his fat length, his pretty long black hair is sticking to his face as he leans back and watches your pussy get filled with him, it’s lewd how your hole stretches to accommodate him.
“Nhgnn..” he sounds cute, a little girlish almost. When you bottom out, Suguru is drooling and becoming incoherent, this has never happened, hes not even moving signaling you to bring him to completion.
You bounce your pretty ass lightly and softly at first, grinding down on him slightly, it feels good, his cock is hot and feels snug against your walls.
Something fills you up not even thirty seconds in, you can hear the poor merman apologizing profusely, he didn’t mean to cum that quickly but he really can’t help it!
His cum feels thick and a bit more heavier inside you, you pay no mind to this. It has been a while he was backed up probably.
Satoru is still playing with his pretty cock as he watches you get Suguru off, he thinks he’s about to have his turn something startles you when you feel something swell inside of you, it hurts but there’s a slight pleasure underneath it.
They look so dewy and happy, dopy grins decorating their face at how you took Suguru’s knot and as soon as it swells down you’ll take Satoru’s.
Your cunt feels full and once again so damn good, you reach down and rub your nub, the sensations make you moan and twitch like a damn virgin.
When Suguru’s knot eventually does go down it’s Satoru’s turn, he wastes absolutely no time in fucking his cock into your already dripping pussy. He goes on and on about how pretty you’ll look with their babies and how they’ll take such good care of you. You aren’t fully understanding what they’re saying, not when you’re on the verge of passing out
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kaiser1ns · 3 months ago
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#. HUG ME ? BRING IT IN !
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featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. kaji ren, takiishi chika, togame jo, umemiya hajime, endo yamato
fluff. you were supposed to give all of your attention to him, rather than hugging the cute stuffed toy.
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KAJI REN
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Before getting a boyfriend, you had no problem falling asleep alone. It was you, the blanket, and the cute stuffed plushie who kept you company. But after you started dating and having sleepovers with Kaji Ren, you realized how you couldn't sleep without hugging something. First, it was one plushie, then two, then three, and you begged for a fourth, a fifth—the saga never-ending. Most were gifts from him, and that's why you held them so close to your heart, hugging them when you couldn't hug your boyfriend.
It was early afternoon when Kaji decided to stop by your place just to see you. Your mother greeted him, telling him you were in your room. When he reached your safe haven, he was left dumbfounded. There you were, hugging that damn pink bunny. Its left triangle eyebrow was thick while the right was thin—he hated it. It was like the plushie was mocking him, telling him it got you first.
Kaji frowned, clicking his tongue as he removed his headphones, placing them on the desk where your pictures were framed and … Why do you have a picture with the stuffed toy?
If you weren't asleep right now, you'd laugh at him for being so silly, but also so cute with his dark gray eyes intensely watching the plushie, and his pouty lips just waiting to be kissed. Acting on impulse once again, Kaji removed the pink bunny from your arms, threw it on the ground, and left your arms empty. He watched you breathe calmly, your chest rising and falling.
When he bent down to lay next to you, you snapped your eyes open and screamed, making him flinch and fall out of the bed, landing next to the plushie that seemed to mock him once more.
"Ren?" you said, sleepily peering over the edge of the bed.
He groaned, sitting up and glaring at the pink bunny. "Why do you always choose this thing over me?" You laughed softly, reaching out to help him up. "I didn't choose it over you. It's just... sometimes I need something to cuddle with when you're not here."
He sighed, sitting on the bed and pulling you into his arms. You smiled, resting your head on his chest. This time he needed something to hug to make him calm down. Nothing could get in the way of this moment, so peaceful and beautiful, with no worries, just him and you.
“I also ordered new plushies.” He thinks you should have stayed asleep because if he hears the word plushie one more time, he will go crazy. "For us to match when you can't fall asleep when I'm not with you.” That was, his breaking point, but it's okay because he is crazy in love with you despite your plushie obsession, but he won't tell you how much money he spent on limited edition stuffed toys for your upcoming birthday. Some things are better kept hidden, but a soft smile made its way visible on his face, betraying the mask of his annoyance.
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TAKIISHI CHIKA
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It was getting late and you still waited for your boyfriend to visit, after he said he would, but he probably got in another fight to pass the time. You loved him but sometimes you thought he loved fights more than you, in some way he did, but that didn't stop when Takiishi fought his way to you with the many plushies you owned when he got to your apartment and saw you asleep on the couch, hugging the stuffed lion plushie.
He remembered how you couldn’t stop looking at the stand with stuffed toys at the fair, and how, after much begging, he won it for you. You had laughed and said it looked just like him — your mini Takiishi. The big and fierce predator is just one little cute kitten. But there could only be one Takiishi Chika in your life.
He wishes he was as soft and squishy as it, hinting that he wants more physical affection. Since you started dating, he found himself wanting to be closer to you, to feel your warmth, and to know that you were always by his side. It was a vulnerability he wasn't used to, and it often led him to seek extra hugs and kisses for reassurance.
As if sensing his thoughts, you stirred awake, blinking sleepily up at him. A soft smile spread across your face, and you reached out for him with one hand, the other still holding onto the toy. "Baby, you are here." Your voice was a soothing melody in the quiet room.
Chika reached down, his larger hand gently pulling you up. The toy slipped from your grasp as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, hugging him just as you had hugged the stuffed lion moments before. Your fingers tangled in his long hair, and he couldn't help but sigh, feeling your warmth against him.
"You were hugging that thing," he murmured, in a calm soothing voice, though the jealousy was still there. You chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to his neck. "Well, it reminds me of you. But nothing compares to the real deal." Your words were a balm to his insecurities, and he held you tighter, burying his face in your hair.
"Is that so?" he asked, his breath warm against your ear. You nodded, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes, his hands holding your legs more firmly.
"Absolutely. The plushie is cute, but it can't hold me like you do." You smiled, tracing your fingers along his jawline. He relaxed, but at the same time wanted to pull away from the affection. You laughed softly, leaning in to capture his lips in a gentle kiss. "Just so you know, you're my favorite."
But instead he pulled you into a deeper embrace, you felt the tension in his muscles ease. You knew he’d fight the world to be with you, but right now, all he needed was the reassurance of your love. And you were more than happy to give it to him.
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TOGAME JO
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Togame was enjoying his time listening to you tell the latest gossip as you moved around the room, his eyes following your every step. He sat on the edge of your bed, a tender smile playing on his lips as you recounted the latest drama among your friends. In your hands, you clutched a cute turtle plushie, and the sight of you so animated and engaged made his heart swell.
"And then you won't believe what she said, Kame-chan!" you exclaimed, pulling the plushie close to your face as if it could somehow share in your excitement.
Togame’s smile widened, and he couldn’t resist answering, his voice soft yet teasing. "What did she say, love?"
You froze, a look of confusion crossing your features as you turned to face him. "Wait, I thought you left?" you asked, your brow furrowing slightly as you tried to recall when you last saw him heading out for some business.
His eyes twinkled as he leaned back slightly, making himself more comfortable on the bed. "Why would I?" he responded, feigning innocence. His gaze flickered to the plushie in your hands, and he chuckled softly. "Besides, how could I miss out on hearing what she said?"
Your eyes widened as you realized what had happened. "Oh my gosh, you heard that?" A blush crept up your cheeks, and you hugged the plushie tighter, as if it could somehow shield you from the embarrassment.
Togame stood up and walked over to you, gently taking the turtle plushie from your hands and examining it with a mock-serious expression. "So, this is Kame-chan, huh? You named him after me?"
You nodded shyly, face in your hands to hide your red face. "I thought it was cute."
He chuckled, placing the plushie back into your hands before pulling you by the waist sitting on the bed again, as he sat you on his lap, wrapping his arms around your body. "I'm flattered, really," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "But you know, the real Togame is right here, and he loves you just as much as Kame-chan does."
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UMEMIYA HAJIME
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You clutch the Cinnamoroll plushie tightly, its soft fur pressing against your cheek as you glance at Umemiya. The plushie, a recent gift from him, has quickly become your favorite, and you can't stop talking about how much it reminds you of him. The white hair, the blue eyes, the insatiable appetite, and that pure-hearted nature—Cinnamoroll is practically Umemiya's spirit animal. Every time you hug it, you feel a rush of warmth, as if you're holding a little piece of him close to your heart.
"Isn't it just the cutest?" you gush for the umpteenth time, eyes shining with joy. "It's just like you, Hajime! Always happy, always there when someone needs you. If you were an animal, you'd definitely be a puppy, just like Cinnamoroll."
Umemiya gives you a small smile, but there's something behind it, a hint of something you can't quite place. As the day goes on, you notice he seems quieter than usual. You catch him glancing at you and the plushie with a look that almost seems…jealous? It was rare to see him looking anything other than cheerful, and it tugged at your heartstrings.
Finally, during a quiet moment on your date, you catch him pouting slightly. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you ask, "Hajime, what's wrong? You've been a bit off today."
He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed. "It's just…you've been hugging that plushie all day, and I haven't gotten a single hug."
You blink in surprise, then burst into laughter, feeling a bit guilty. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize." Setting Cinnamoroll down gently, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. "You know you're the best, right? Not even the cutest plushie could ever replace you."
He relaxes into your embrace, a contented smile spreading across his face. "I guess I can share you with Cinnamoroll," he murmurs, hugging you back even tighter. You chuckle softly, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "As long as I still get my daily doze of your love."
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ENDO YAMATO
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The night was perfect for a cozy movie date, as you had planned it for weeks, and now you were finally together, nestled on the couch. "Face mask time!" you announced with a playful grin, holding up two colorful packets. Endo raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest, instead he just smiled with that charming smile of his and leaned back, letting you apply the mask on his face. You took your time, smoothing the cool gel over his skin, "Mmm, it feels nice." he murmured, eyes closed in relaxation.
As the movie continued, you snuggled up with your favorite dinosaur plushie, he, however, didn't like the fact that you hadn't snuggled into him. With a quick move, he grabbed the plushie out of your arms and got up. "Yamato!" you protested, pouting playfully, as the tattooed boy held the plushie high above his head, his height giving him an unfair advantage. But you were smarter, as you stepped on his foot, gently without as much power, catching him off guard. He wobbled, just enough for you to grab your plushie back.
He chuckled, pulling you close again. "Alright, alright, you win," he said, his voice warm and teasing. You nestled back into his side, plushie securely in your arms, feeling his arm wrap around you protectively. "Thought you would have made me go extinct like this little guy with that stomp of yours." he teased, as you rested your head against his shoulder. "I guess you'll have to share me with the dino."
Endo sighed dramatically, but his eyes were soft as he looked at you, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. "As long as I get most of the snuggles~"
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©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work
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notanactressyayy · 11 days ago
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭. | natasha romanoff
. ��₊ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 . Natasha and you were the only 'constant' in each other's lives. poor you, to think you could get over her so easily.
. ݁₊ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 . smut! i am not responsible for your content consumption! — making out, g!p Natasha, guided masturbation, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (p in v), choking, swearing, homesickness, fluff, reconciliation.
. ݁₊ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 . english isn't my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. been in love w Nat for a damn long time — i've been away for a while, but turns out i can't really live without her. i miss my red so much :(
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Natasha Romanoff rarely had the chance to see the same face twice. She saw a lot of people throughout her life — as a spy, as a superhero, or simply as Natasha. The thing is: it was unlike she would return to a place she’s been before. It wasn’t uncommon for her to be on the run. Thus, she traveled around the whole world, and saw thousands, millions of different faces. Destiny made sure not to let her cross paths with the same individual again. It wasn’t only the diversity of people that she witnessed, though. This woman saw the world. She knew life’s ups and downs, and at some point in her life, she just got used to the idea that it would forever be like this: boring. Boring experiences, boring women, boring men, boring relationships. Nothing was ever exciting, thrilling. It felt like she was advanced in time, and the rest of the world wasn’t following her. This wasn’t a complete lie, she got her maturity at a very young age, which made her pay the price now, in adulthood. 
For a spy, the most important thing is to learn not to be caught off guard. But it seemed like life was never on Natasha’s side. And this time — it felt good. Oh, it felt so good. 
At first, she didn’t want to get high hopes. It would be just another temporary friendship to help her pass time, nothing more. However, you managed to surprise the red haired Avenger in the best way possible. When she decided to spare a little time of her life and get to know you more, it was really mind-blowing the side of herself she discovered. She never thought she could actually be.. giddy. Like a silly, hopeless romantic girl. That is what she became whenever it was time to see you. She got excited. Actually excited. She couldn’t see through you, read your emotions or body language, like she did with other people; It was a natural thing, sometimes she didn’t even mean to do that. But you, something within you, kept her at bay. Like you effortlessly turned Natasha into a normal woman. Somebody who could love. Somebody that wasn’t raised and enhanced to be a killer. Not that you went through anything like she did, but you weren’t naive. You showed her that people didn’t necessarily have to be traumatized to be aware of things, of reality, of the surroundings. And for her, you’re the most beautiful person in the whole world. Inside and out. She adored you. 
Opening up was never easy. Revealing the broken parts of herself wasn’t like having a simple chat. But patience is a virtue and thankfully, you followed that say just fine. Little by little, the secrets came out. Most of the parts you already knew — it’s not like she wasn’t a worldwide known superhero. What you mostly had to acknowledge were her feelings, the point of view of the little girl who was experiencing it all, and becoming a strong woman, with built up walls around her heart. Doing that was no problem. Natasha couldn’t be more thankful. 
She couldn’t be more infatuated. More in love.
She’d always remember that one day: in the bar with her team, and you — chattery, music, tons of drinks and laughter. Stolen glances. Stomach butterflies, wild. The moment Clint pulled Laura a little closer to himself, and Tony kissed Pepper’s cheek. How she used that as an excuse to pull you into her lap. Your breath getting labored. Eyelashes gently fluttering, to the point she could count them. Your gentle yet tight grip on her shoulders. Your goddamn eyes staring right into hers. And the part where everything would change: her own bodily reactions to all those little details about you. When you restlessly shifted on her lap, quietly gasping when something poked you through your dress. Eyes going wide at the bulge showing on her black jeans. 
From that point on, you belonged to her.
Or so, she thought.
The sex was great, but she was in conflict — she couldn't tell if the only reason for it to be that enjoyable was because you were both tipsy, almost drunk, or if it was really meant to be that way. It felt right, yes, to have you in her arms like this — naked, piles of discarded clothes laying by her bed.. the sound of your quiet snoring as you cuddled into her. It was also a relief to her. To have someone care for her, desire her, after so long, after forever. The night had been amazing. She was a mature woman anyway, wasn't she? She could sort her feelings out without messing up everything.
Wrong. By the morning, everything would change.
You stared at her as she got up and got dressed again, eyes still a little blurry from sleep, eyebrows ceasing into a small confused frown. "You're not staying?" you'd ask, sitting up and leaning against the headboard, bringing up the sheets to cover your unclothed body. "Ugh, my head hurts like hell,"
"Got things to do." she simply answered, cradling the side of your face and kissing your forehead. You could swear the look on her face was.. apologetic. She tilted her head towards the nightstand, where some aspirin and water waited for you. "Take these. I'll text you later."
"Okay.." you mumble, disoriented. As she leaves, you reach out, shoving the aspirin in your mouth and downing the pills with water. Was there something you were missing? Because all you could remember was how good her hands felt on you, the way they wrapped around you neck while she—
You shook your head, lying down again, and closing her eyes. All the fun and pleasure you had been given from the previous night was slowly vanishing and being replaced by a feeling of uncertainty and confusion. Natasha was an enigmatic person, okay, but you thought you knew her better. She had no reason to leave you just like that, especially when she had already vented about all her past experiences, flaws and failures. Nah, it was probably nothing, you were overthinking. Perhaps she indeed had something important to take care of. You closed your eyes as fatigue took over, and slept for a little bit more.
Natasha went back to her apartment — one of her apartments, and for the whole day, her thoughts ran like crazy. Her emotions were all over the place. She had just fucked her best friend, the one person she felt comfortable and at ease with. She considered her feelings carefully; this.. dinamic, between you two, had not been platonic for a considerable amount of time. But not being platonic doens't necessarily means being romantic. It could either be love, or lust. What happened the day before was carnal, once the two of you were way too much in a drunken haze to actually feel anything.
And, like always, Natasha didn't want to think about falling in love. She felt scared just by thinking about this. It was a new territory, one she wasn't willing to deep dive in. So she took her phone and deeply sighed, opening her chat with you.
"Yesterday was fun. But I need some time. I don't think this can work. Hope you're doing okay. xx"
That text just completely shattered you.
You had no idea what you did wrong. It was not like Natasha was pushing you away forever — but while being with her, the only thought running through your mind was: I wanna be with her. I wanna explore this with her. And Natasha didn't give a single sign that she thought the opposite. You felt... disappointed. With yourself and her. For hoping.
Yeah, getting involved with an ex kgb Avenger killer spy probably wasn't the best idea.
You wouldn't simply forget everything you shared together, so the easiest way here not to create a big tension was.. being fake. The two of you weren't stupid, you were aware of the unspoken feelings going on. But what happened that night should not happen again. So your friendship was what prevailed. A friendship like the start. But obviously, with a few changes. Natasha and you didn't lose touch — on the contrary, you were closer than ever. You spoke and flirted (a lot), but with one small rule, a rule that you subconsciously added to this.. situationship. No feelings involved. It would be singularly that. Friends, some casual hookups, and nothing else.
It didn't last, because that's not what you both wished, longed for.
Little by little, this turned boring again. Not that you were the boring one and she just didn't realize this before. Far from that. The thing was: Natasha and you were supressing your feelings, consequently, supressing all the thrill, the delicious tension that hanged in the air whenever she, once again, crossed paths with you. The russian wanted nothing more than just grab you and kiss you hard, pour all the emotions that she kept bottled up throughout her life into the kiss. But unfortunately, she couldn't. She had a duty to fullfil, as someone born, destined to save the world.
And with all of this, you and her settled a distance. You with your previous and trivial life, and her, saving little girls from bad guys, and bringing down cats from tall trees. It was truly shocking: one day, you lived for Natasha Romanoff. She was your everything and everything you'd ever want. In a blink of an eye, it ended. You followed your paths, like two completely different people, with different purposes.
Right person, wrong time.
Fool her, to think she could get over you that easily. Poor you, to try and put that inside of your head as well.
Sometimes, when normally doing daily tasks, you would catch yourself thinking about her — when you were going to watch TV and put your legs on the coffee table, instead of simply sitting. It was an habit of hers. Or when eating something with peanut butter. It was her favourite late night snack. When it rained. She liked to watch the rain. With somebody else's hands on you. It wasn't right. It was never right to have somebody else touch you. You were constantly thinking about your life before things with her changed — the memories brought comfort, a sense of nostalgia.. at some point, you weren't living in the present anymore. Just faking. Faking your feelings. Pretending it was okay to let her go.
This woman ruined you for everything and everyone else.
Natasha could relate to that. In a life that could be resumed in one word: a 'whirlwind' of a life, and you were her only 'constant' among all of this... she couldn't bear this anymore.
So she made an important decision.
The decision was today.
Today: she'd take you out again, praying that, if not reconciliation, she wanted at least to say everything she had to say. Because if life taught her one thing, was to make choices that she wouldn't regret in the future. And it was damn right she would regret choosing not to meet you tonight.
Sitting in the stool of the bar, in a more secluded corned, her eyes followed your figure as you approached — purse hanging on your shoulder, dress exposing your back and a little bit of your waist, eyes so awfully soft and gentle as you looked at her. It wasn't fair. A pang of guilt hit her hard. Oh, she regretted letting that go. She wanted you to be mad at her. But you were not. She shakily rises to her feet to kiss your cheek as you stand in front of her, thankfully not stumbling. Your eyes lock again, already in a trance. Just like that other day.
"How are you doing?" you ask. Natasha could cry. She missed that voice everyday. "Did I take too long? I'm sorry."
"No, no. Don't worry." she swallows hard. You both sit on the stools by the countertop. When the bartender comes, the redhead dismisses him. She wanted the two of you sober for this. "I'm... so much better now that you're here, honestly. How about you?"
"Amazing." you chuckle, tilting your head to the side and watching her. She didn't change a bit. Hair braided, black jeans, leather jacket. That was your Natasha. "I didn't expect you calling me here, to be honest..—"
"Me neither." she admits, in a whisper. Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips, eyes involuntarily starting at your mouth. She sighs and looks into your eyes. "But I had to... I can't get you off my mind."
Her sincerity never fails to amaze you. With each second that passes, the butterflies in your tummy return, to remind you of the past — feelings and sensations resurfacing. You bite on your bottom lip and look around the bar, quickly scanning to see if there was anybody paying attention to the two of you. Maybe a few eyes here and there, which didn't linger. Everyone else was too busy minding their own business — and it's not like you'd care if someone was staring anyway. Natasha turned some heads. You felt greedy for that. You were the one having her. The only one having her.
"You live in my head rent free, Natasha." you tell her, voice having a sultry edge to it. You slowly stand, walking closer.
You take her hands and open her arms — making it possible for you to straddle her thigh. She tenses almost immediately. Her head tilts up to stare into your eyes, arms circling your waist to keep you close, where she wanted. You shake your head when you see a small frown between her eyebrows — lips pressing against that small spot, coaxing a little exhale of hers. She missed you. Everyday. Every minute. She wanted that respect and care all the time.
"What are we even doing here?" she whispers, so quietly you almost can't hear it. Her hands cup your waist and gently roam up and down your sides, palms brushing against your bare skin every now and then, all thanks to the waist slits of your dress. Your face leans closer to hers, noses bumping — the smallest of touches, making you both crave what you once had. "Why didn't I just invite you to my place right away?"
"I don't know. Why didn't you?" you raise one eyebrow, fingertips caressing her jawline. Her hands give your waist a squeeze — and you almost moan. She swore she could hear it. It replayed in her head, the beautiful sounds you made for her. She wanted to hear them again. She was going to make you sound like that again.
It wasn't just a physical thing — your body and mind craved her touch, her presence, so much that just the mere thought of being on her bed again got you soaked. She felt something wet through the rough fabric of her jeans, and that got her brain spinning. She fell for you hard. So painfully hard.
"Let's get out of here," she groans, hands firmly grabbing your thighs and lifting you up — wrapping your legs around her waist and carrying you out the pavement. Her hardness pressed right against your core — you blushed, hiding your face on her shoulder, wrapping your arms around her neck.
In a heartbeat, you were back at your house.
Your place, because it was the fastest way, when taking the cab. No words were exchanged, not yet. The aching, burning need had to be taken care of first — before properly talking. Your back hits the wall hard as Natasha pushes you against it — her body trapping you between herself and the hard surface — hands hardly, possessively holding you by the hips. Desperately, even. Making sure you wouldn't slip away from her grasp. Her lips dance with yours, tentatively, yet naturally, tongues tasting one another after what felt like centuries. She felt so good, tasted so good.
"Nat..—" you moan against her lips, having her bottom lip trapped between your teeth, then releasing it. Your forehead against hers, eyes soft and filled with desire. Your hands hold her cheeks, traveling to her jaw. Needily, you press kisses to the side of her throat, breathing shaky, heart hardly thrumming. "I never stopped thinking about you..."
"Yeah?" she hums, grabbing the hem of your dress and lifting it up, bunching the fabric by your hips. Her fingers hook around the elastic of your panties and pull them down, pooling around your feet — making you gasp, and pull away from her neck. Eyes wide open. The air hits your heat, making you needier for her.
You almost mewl.
"God, I need you." Natasha utters. She grabs you again and smashes her lips against yours once more, now with so much more passion, more need, more anxiety. Her bulge presses against your now unclothed wetness, coaxing a tiny cry of need out of you. You breathlessly pull away from her, reaching down and fumbling with the buttons of her jeans — until she stops you.
"No—"
"Quiet." she shushes, maneuvering you back, until your body hits the mattress. She climbs onto the bed and stays in a kneeling position, hungrily taking you in. Messy, needy, all for her. Sober, like she wanted planned from the first time. "That dress goes off."
Her voice is commanding, yet not harsh — and her eyes betray her a little. Her eyes are almost pleading, that it is clear how much she needs this. To have you all to herself, to show you how much she wants that. Her underwear becomes even more tight as she sees your trembling fingers, pulling the dress over your head and tossing it aside, lips parted. Just by her look, you can tell she wants the bra off, too. So you reach behind your back and grants her silent wish, breasts now exposed to her sight.
"There you are..." she moans to herself, shamelessly taking in the sight of you. You're a work of art. With her hand, she coaxes your knees open, and parts your legs. "My... you're so wet. So perfectly wet."
"You're still with a lot on.." you quietly complain, feeling hot and shy at the same time. But her gaze is enough to wipe away the confusion from your eyes. She had a plan.
"Touch yourself for me." she breathes out.
Your eyes briefly widen with the unexpectedness of this statement. You had certainly done this before — touched yourself thinking of her — but the idea of showing this, while she watched, never crossed your mind. But it wasn't an unpleasant idea. It was actually... hot. Sensual. They darken, pupils blown wide as you make yourself comfortable against the pillows, eyelids fluttering as your legs spread a little more, palm resting on your stomach, then moving down. Deliberately, it reaches your sex, a shakily sigh leaving your lips when your middle and ring finger collect some of the slick coat covering your sensitiveness, using it to slowly rub your clitoris, getting you to gasp louder.
"Natasha..." you whisper, eyes falling close, thoughts wandering.
Wandering back to the start — when you first discovered your feelings for her, then the climax, when you both got in bed due the alcohol — then the aftermath, when you needed her so much, felt so alone at night, that your fingers were the only solution. Little wet sounds echo within the room as you rub circles on yourself, applying just the right amount of pressure, that it doesn't take long for the pit in your stomach to manifest itself.
"Faster." Natasha rasps out, taking her jacket and quickly throwing it away. She pulls her tank top over her head, then undo the buttons of her jeans — leaving the bed, just so she can get rid of all the uncomfortable fabric, and climbing it again. She crawls closer to you — eyeing you as you worked on your pussy, her hands caressing your thighs, adding to the stimulation.
"Please...!" you whimper, doing as you're told — rubbing yourself faster — slipping one of your fingers inside your entrance, almost cumming, that quickly. "Please, I need you..!"
"I need you too," she moans to herself, and harshly grabs your wrist, pulling your hand away. You moan loudly in protest — Natasha wouldn't tease you. Not today, when you both needed each other so much. She discards her undergarments, finally — groaning as she's set free. Your eyes lock on her hard length, which was practically hitting her abs now.
"Put it inside me." you beg, grabbing her shoulders to pull her closer. She hovers over you, bracing herself on her forearms, on each side of your body. Your fingernails gently graze her back. Natasha was feeling so much, so much more than she ever felt. Your eyes were sparkling so much, like you were crying — shimmering with the depth of your adoration for her. You grab her cheeks and press your lips to hers, in a gentle peck. Knowing her past, she didn't have to explain her reasons for what had happened. She was scared before, and you respected. "Go on. Love me."
She couldn't wait no longer. She lowers her forehead to your shoulder and places her hands on your hips — her chest against yours, as she lined herself with your hole, effortlessly pushing inside. Stretching you out, like she once did. Having the chance to hear that delicious sounds again.
"You're mine... shit," she groans, rolling into you gently, getting you used to the feeling first. You're so tight, so perfect around her. Natasha's overwhelmed. Her hands press against the base of your throat, squeezing firmly, yet leaving enough room for air. She's so hot. "That pussy is mine. You're mine. You're all mine—"
"Yes," you moan, wrapping your legs around her middle. You wouldn't take long to come tonight. Maybe she'd make you come over and over. She rocks into you, pace not too slow, not too fast. Just right. The right tempo to bring you both the pleasure and connection you so much needed. "Mhm.. fuck, Nat, missed your cock,"
"You're gonna take it over and over—" she comments — kissing your shoulder, roaming her hands up your body, her right palm cupping your breast and giving it a firm squeeze. Your head lolls back, mouth opening to allow a satisfied moan out. "I'm never fucking letting you go again,"
She accelerates, pulling almost all the way out just to slam back into you again — feeling her climax approach. She moves her mouth close to your ear and moans — her own sounds now mixing with yours.
"Natasha...! Fuck, you feel soo good," you gasp, a wave of pleasure washing over you as you get closer. She takes the hint immediately, cupping the back of your knee and pushing it up, allowing her a better angle. "Ah, gimme more,"
"My greedy girl," she groans, her head tilting back. Her cock twitches inside of you — precum already painting you white. She glanced down at where your folds swallowed her, eyes darkening impossibly more. "You're so goddamn tight... 'm not gonna last, moya krasivaya malysha,"
"Okay.. 'ts okay... Cum with me..." you beg her, tangling your fingers into her red strands of hair, pulling her down more, so her forehead rests against yours — the eye contact increasing the intimacy of the moment. She didn't know what to expect now. Didn't know what to think. Only that she had to fill you up.
"C'mon.. nhg, darling.. c'mon.. cum around me," she encourages, feeling her own legs shake as her orgasm washed over her.
She grabbed your hips hard and slammed into you — once, twice, three times, filling you up with her hot release. You squeezed your eyes shut as your body shuddered forwards, breasts pressing against her own as a long, strangled moan flowed out of you, nails digging into her back, pressing her body against yours as you finished. Your walls clenched around her cock, swallowing her more, not allowing her to pull away just that. "God.. I love you!"
Natasha blinks, not sure if she heard right. Her heart squeezes in her chest, arms wrapping around your body. Her back hits the bed and she flips you on top of her, still inside of you — but now, her member softened. The adrenaline was running wild, but you had calmed down a little bit. Just a little. Because this time, it wasn't pure sex. It was lovemaking.
Your face is buried in her chest as she brings up the covers, creating a cocoon of warmth around you. She buries her face into your hair and inhales deeply, staying silent. Just to process things.
"I love you, too. So so much." she murmurs into you hair. She felt terrified to say this. But once you're someone who she already showed her scars to, it's not that bad anymore.
"You do?" you ask expectantly, feeling tired, drowsy. Natasha smiles at that. She feels her eyes burning with heavy emotion. She nods.
"Yes... I love you so much." she confirms, softly stroking her hair, brushing some strands away from your sweaty forehead. "And I want you to be mine. Will you be mine?"
"You're asking me to be your girlfriend after the sex?" you chuckle quietly, but happiness was evident in your voice. Now you could sleep at peace. The first night of rest you'd have in a long time. In the arms of the woman you cherished, worshipped.
Natasha had won now. She was so fucking relieved. All because of a phrase.
"Of course I will, you idiot."
"I'm never, ever, ever letting you go again." the room is messy, smell of sex lingering around you. But now things were sorted out. By the morning, you could have a more direct, serious conversation. For now, you'd rest together, wrapped up in each other's arms, like it was always meant to be.
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avianyuh · 21 days ago
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Jeon Wonwoo as a boyfriend...
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Other SVT as bf's { S.Coups , Jeonghan , Minghao/The8 , Hoshi }
Like most, I'm sure Wonwoo appeals to you because upon introduction, you think he's the quiet, brooding type
But he'd show a different side of himself in a relationship with you
A goofball all the way
Any carat knows that he's a secret comedian
I think he'd always be trying to make you laugh
Had a bad day? He'll make you watch a funny video he saw
Texting him that you miss him?
You will be sent stupid pictures as his response
GAMING
He's not competitive though
He likes to play chill games with you just because he likes to spend his time doing one of his favorite things with you
And that makes him really happy!
Please encourage him and geek out with him over video games
I think he can be sensitive sometimes
But strikes me as the type to not verbalize when something is bothering him
So being with someone observant would do him good, get him to open up more
Especially in the beginning of the relationship
I think overtime, you won't have to try as hard to get him to share his feelings with you
He'll just naturally start to feel really comfortable around you
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The g-gl-glasses
Ughhhh
I know you love them
You get to see him in his glasses basically everywhere
Barely takes them off to begin with
Even some promotions he keeps them on
Imagine late night gaming with him
The lights are all out and your sitting as close to each other as possible
And the reflection of the computer screen is in his glasses and he's all happy because he's really enjoying himself omg
You're just looking at him and thinking Damn that's my man...
As I've pointed out in my previous dating seventeen posts, you have to pass the vibe check and get approval from all the members if you want to be a permanent part of Wonwoo's life
Strikes me as the type to see you on the down-low for a few months
Would probably mention you to Mingyu since last I heard, they're roomies
You'd be introduced to Mingyu first
Then he'd probably mention that he met someone to the rest of the guys
Then he'd bring you around the dorm, or a dance practice, somewhere you can meet as many members as possible
That way Seungkwan can be his extroverted self and make you feel comfortable.
Like, imagine meeting another relatively quiet member like Jun or Woozi
"Nice to meet you😐🙂"
Please tell me you can see that happening cuz I can
Maybe even Minghao or Seungcheol would be sorta awkward
Like not in a bad way, but introverts need time to warm up to someone new (speaking from experience)
But once everyone has been acquainted and they like you, you will be family and it will shift from like to love
Because you treat Wonu right and you make him happy
Wonwoo being with you would make him more energetic and outgoing
He's a homebody
Normally I would say opposites attract, but in his case I definetly think being with another introvert would be ideal lol
Would recommend you a lot of books
And would want you to read his favorites so the two of you could discuss them
Same with video games
Remember I told you to let him geek out?
PLZ LET HIM BE A GEEK!!!!!!
I think Wonwoo would love to go on vacation every once in a while
I think he can drive abroad
But even just driving in Korea
Going on day trips
Just talking, singing to your favorite songs
Teasing him by playing some of SVT's music
Or just sitting in a comfortable silence
That's the best type of silence and it's very underrated imo
One thing about Wonwoo is how tall he is
6 feet I think? (182 cm for those not in the U.S.)
And he has very broad shoulders
Imagine watching a scary movie with him and hiding your face in his chest, and he wraps his arms around you
Lowkey protective
Just wants to keep you safe
Loves everything about you
The type to stare at you and just blurt out that he finds you beautiful
He's well read so he'd probably say something really poetic
Just makes you feel special
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Shexy Shtuff:
Okay, we need to sit and have a conversation about how buff this man is...
Look at those pecs
Damn
He's ripped
He's not a gym bro, but he definitely likes going
Imagine him coming home and he's all sweaty and his muscles are all visible
He loves a good sweater or hoodie so I think seeing his physique is rare
The quiet ones are always great kissers...
This bitch is all dark and mysterious
A.K.A most likely a FREAK
Uses tongue when he kisses
Like, probably pulls you on top of him if you're on the couch or lays you down on the bed
Or pins you against the wall if he's frustrated or hasn't seen you in a while
If you ever got in an argument he's apologizing profusely and then making up for it in bed
Definitely a grunter
Not overly vocal
More concerned with your needs
Definitely a giver
I don't think he's that adventurous when it comes to location
Bed, shower, couch maybe
Most of the time, you'll be watching a movie or maybe sitting on his lap if you come in while he's playing games on his computer (or just doing something on his computer in general)
So there you are, sitting on his lap, not trying to do anything sexual, just asking what he's playing or doing
And at first everything's good but as you're readjusting yourself in his lap, you're shifting around and suddenly he's getting turned on
He'd start kissing your cheek, your neck, moving his hands up to waist
Eventually getting impatient and scooping you up and taking you to his bedroom
Shower sex after the gym
Or late at night after practice if he isn't too tired
I see him being a big pillow-talker
Get's really emotionally vulnerable with you after sex
And that's how you know he trusts you
And congratulations, his voice is already deep as is, but in the morning, omg he'd sound so hot right after he wakes up
Would love to just keep you in his arms and lay in bed for a while, especially if he had nothing to do that day
Okay, i think this is long enough now
In conclusion, I think he'd be a great boyfriend
~
{A/N: AHHH, omg I'm sorry I've been inactive the past two weeks, I got pneumonia. I'm still recovering but felt really bad that I hadn't posted. I've been trying to make up my missed schoolwork. I couldn't think of a fanfic to write so I decided to do a headcanon for seventeen to add to the series. Wonwoo was my first bias back in 2017 before I realized I'm a coups girl. But I'll be honest, sometimes I'm creeping on Wonwoo's fancams (sorry Cheol) Anyways, I love you guys so much whether you're a frequent reader/follower or this is your first time reading anything from me. I love you, have a great day/night, whenever you're reading this, mwahhhh❤️ I put in a continue reading because this one was so much longer than my previous bf headcanons, Wonwoo, a man of substance lol}
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wishful-sinful-9 · 12 days ago
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YOU WANT IT DARKER
Logan Howlett x Reader
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MASTERLIST
cw: stalkerish!logan, kidnapping, kinda dubcon, smut, piv, oral (f receiving), biting, hair pulling, body worship, overstimulation, just feral sex, both parties are a little unhinged, reader has no sense of survival instinct bless her
halloween special (better late than never) 🐺
Was this karma? Had you been some sort of puppy-kicking throat-slashing cold-hearted bitch in a past life? Are you being bit in the ass for it? Or had the universe just singled you out at some point to be an object of constant torment?
You'd thought a small town in the mountains was just what you needed: peace and quiet, beautiful landscapes, charming locals. The reality was freezing temperatures as early as September, and elderly neighbours that are just as frosty to the strange young newcomer. Two months in, you could no longer take the loneliness - life became a little brighter when you adopted your fiercely loyal, and almost terrifyingly giant, doberman you named (aptly, in your opinion) Baby.
And then you left the Goddamn back gate open.
Miles of forest stretch up the mountainside behind your house. You've been trudging through the dense woods for hours, voice hoarse from calling for your dear Baby. A whisper in the back of your mind tells you it's a lost cause; he must have gotten too far to find his way back, and God knows the predators lurking in these shadows willing to attack him. These shadows that are getting deeper with each passing minute.
A shiver runs through you, in spite of your thick scarf and fur-lined coat. You scan the surrounding trees as you realise that it's getting harder to see past them.
That's when you halt abruptly.
You have no idea where you are.
-
Right and wrong blurs into eachother sometimes for Logan. He's been alone for so long, and his instincts are so loud, he can't fight these strange animal tendencies that claw into him every so often.
And you, well you didn't help him at all.
Why the fuck would a pretty young woman like you be doing living round here? Walking around his forest every damn day, with that hound that you love so deeply, even though it could easily wrench its lead from your grip or bite your arm clean off with one snap of its wolfish jaws. Of course, he knows it would never do such a thing - it loves you like all dogs love their owners, unconditionally and obsessively and devotedly. It loves you like how he'd love you.
Picking a spot in the shadows and watching you pass by was one thing. Beginning to follow you on your route, all the way back to your home though - his conscience was beginning to blink its red warning lights.
Yet every time he indulges in his guilty pleasures, those lights fade a little more.
He doesn't notice they've gone completely black when he sees you presently, stood shivering in the depths of the forest. Lost.
Your dog blinks up at him, eyes bright and tongue lolling. Excited to introduce you to his new friend.
-
The darkness of the encroaching night, the cruel icy wind, and the severity of your situation is all forgotten when your blessed Baby appears like an angel from the shadows.
“Baby! Oh, my God, Baby,” you sob, kneeling as he runs to you with a furiously wagging tail. “Where have you been, boy? Where the hell have you been?”
You unwind the leash from where you'd knotted it and clipped it to your belt loop and reach for Baby's collar. He twists, not with any fear or violence, out of your grip in an instant. You frown. He hasn't done that before.
He trots over to where he had appeared from, glancing back and stopping, encouraging you to follow.
You step forward, “What are you..”
He returns to shepherd you to his desired direction. You do so, praying that once he's successfully shown you whatever impressive stick or pinecone it is that you can finally go home.
You trudge after your dog for a few more minutes before deciding you've had enough. “C'mon, pup, let's go home. Aren't you hungry? Eh, boy? Want some- shit!”
Baby sprints off suddenly, lightning-fast.
Your feet move before you can think. You're far too exhausted for this chase, but you are not going to lose him again. You shout after him as you sprint through the darkness.
You break through the trees and find yourself skidding to a stop - in front of you, there is a black iron gate.
Beyond it, a gravel drive leads to a shadowed, decrepit manor house, lit only by the full moon above. You don't have time to wonder why there was ever a house built this deep into the wilderness, because Baby's running straight to the open door.
-
He pets the dog idly, knowing you'll soon follow. It licks his palm.
The scent of roses, your perfume, strengthens as he hears the stumbling of your hiking boots at the entrance. The dog barks, and you follow the sound.
You burst into the living room, eyes wild when they meet his own.
Got you.
-
His dark eyes are unsettlingly wide as he stares you down.
The man whose home you've just broken into is unlike any around here; considerably younger than the elderly folk in town, perhaps in his thirties. Beyond that, there's something abnormal about him: he towers over you, huge in stature and wide with muscle. And one of his terrifyingly huge hands is petting your dog.
“I am so, so sorry sir,” you stammer stupidly, taking a wobbly step back. “He just - ran off - he never does it I swear, I'll get out of your- Baby, Baby, c'mere.”
He doesn't move.
You tremble as you contemplate grabbing him by the collar. But you can't seem to bring yourself to move towards this man.
“Baby, please-”
The man says your name.
Your blood runs cold. You bring your gaze to his, slow with terror. Another step back.
You could cry when Baby finally moves away from him, only to be further horrified when you beloved protector only does so to get behind your legs and usher you towards the man. The strange man who somehow knows your name.
You lurch forward at a hard nudge of Baby's head against your calf - into his arms. Strong, large arms that wrap around you tightly. Shit. Oh shit.
You shriek, attempting to wriggle free, but the man holds you to him tighter. He removes one arm, keeping you there solidly still with the other, and curls his fingers into a fist.
And three knife-sharp metal claws unsheath from his knuckles.
Your fighting ceases immediately. He doesn't hold them to you in threat, merely displays them in warning: Don't. Even. Try.
They disappear back into his hand and he brings his lips to your ear.
“You ain't going nowhere, sweetheart.”
-
It would've been a nice room, once. A canopy bed in the centre, a velvet loveseat at the foot of it, and a large window stretching across the far wall. Only now, the canopy's sheer curtains are torn, the colour of the seat's fabric faded, and the window completely boarded up.
The only source of light is a lone candle on the dresser. You pace in its dim light, shaking like a leaf, gasping short, panicked breaths.
He'd picked you up as if you'd weighed nothing at all and deposited you in this room, locking it and ignoring how you banged and screamed and shouted at the door. It didn't take long before you'd exhausted yourself and resorted to desperately racking your brain for means of escape.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
You sink to the floor with your head in your hands. Hiccupy sobs escape your lips, eyes sore from crying.
A gentle click of the door opening alerts you of his presence.
“I'm not gonna hurt you.”
As he lingers in the doorframe, even bigger from where you're crumpled on the floor, you find it hard to believe. Your breathing speeds up again.
In a stride, he's kneeling beside you. You jerk away with a cry as he tries to reach for your wrist.
His hand curls around your chin and brings your tear-stained, crazed face to his. The wildness in his eyes before was gone - there's a shocking earnestness in them now, as if he hadn't just used your only companion against you in luring you into his home.
“Deep breath in,” he murmurs.
What?
“Deep breath in, I said. Do it, girl.”
For some bizarre reason, you do it - drawing in a deep, shaky breath and holding it.
“Now out.”
You exhale.
“Again - in,” you do, “out.”
You can't shake the feeling that you're in some absurd dream as you repeat the process with your abducter until your breathing returns to normal.
He retracts his hand from your face and with a weak voice you whimper, “Who are you?”
“Logan.” He grunts.
“What do you want?”
He gazes at you for a long moment. When he responds, you detect a tremble in that baritone voice: “I've been alone for so. Damn. Long. Then you came along, into my woods, into my head, and now I'm losing it.”
His words send chills racing down your spine. Had he been watching you?
“It's like this instinct. This animalistic urge, that makes me want to keep you here - where I can keep you safe, keep you with me-”
“You're a mutant,” you rasp. He nods. “My parents always told me to stay away from... your people.”
“They aren't my people. I'm alone.” You flinch at the sharp edge to his tone.
He raises himself from the floor, looming over you again. You cower under his shadow.
“Well,” he grunts, “not anymore, I suppose.”
He locks the door behind him.
-
You don't know how many days have passed since Logan first took you.
It was only the day after that fateful night that he unlocked your room, under strict order to not leave the house. His only other kindness was to get some clothes for you from your house. You hadn't given him the keys.
Baby is your only comfort, as he curls up beside you at night for warmth. Even still, he seems to have developed some sort of bond with your captor, and is unwilling to be the guard dog you'd have assumed he would be in a situation such as this.
You've taken to slinking about in the shadows, rarely directly coming in contact with Logan; instead, you observe him.
His mutant abilities are not limited to the claws; from what you've gathered, he has some sort of heightened sense of smell and hearing. You know it would be foolish to try and escape because he'd sniff the nerves on you in an instant.
He feeds you mostly meat, which you pick at with little appetite.
It's those minor interactions, when he hands you your meal, that you ponder over throughout the long, cold days and nights. Had he lingered for longer to watch you eat? Did his fingers graze yours when he passed you the plate?
It soon came apparent to you, that this ominous, claw-bearing creature was no more than a man in isolation.
In a largely anti-mutant society, it's push everyone away, or be shunned and hurt. In this world, he's abnormal. Dangerous. A monster.
And you want to crawl into his skin and find what he is really: man or beast?
-
His ears prick at the shuffle of your feet. No matter how often he hears you move about, you never fail to excite his paranoia.
But you never do run, or lash out, or panic. You just remain in the darkness, watching.
In truth, he regrets doing this to you. It was the primal part of his brain eating the rational, and now you were constantly in his proximity, the animal had calmed itself and the human had settled in. Still, he could not bring himself to set you free. Not until he'd figured out how to get himself back to how he'd used to be.
Click.
He froze.
The door. You were at the door.
He set his beer bottle down hard on the table, a warning. He was there. He'd know if you were escaping.
The smell of fresh night air leaks into his nostrils, and he stalks over to the foyer.
You're halfway out the door - staring at him.
For a heartbeat, you keep his furrowed gaze, heart rabbiting in your chest. Then you bolt.
-
You barely make it to the gate before rough hands slam you backwards into his chest.
You don't struggle. You just pant in his hold.
A long, terrible moment of silence passes that makes you doubt your confidence in emerging from this situation unharmed. When he finally speaks, his lips brush the shell of your ear.
“What. Was. That.”
You squeak, “I wanted to see if you'd go after me.”
You're flung over his shoulder and marched straight back to the house.
He dumps you on the tattered armchair by the fireplace, and leans over you - gripping each arm of the chair to cage you in. His eyes are as dark as you've ever seen them.
“You have your answer,” he growls.
“Logan I-”
“Now I want to find out mine.”
You press yourself back into the chair. “Answer to what?”
“Why did that turn you on?”
Your mouth runs dry and your cheeks are ablaze. You shake your head furiously, refusing to meet his eye. “I don't know what.. Uhm..”
One hand is no longer on the chair, instead it's on your cheek. Forcing you to look at him.
Wordlessly, he drops his hand... and shoves it down your pants instead. It's then that it hits you: that heightened sense of smell of his can detect arousal too.
A thick finger runs through your folds, gathering the slick sticking to your panties.
“Logan-”
“You are turned on.”
He sounds almost a little incredulous, as he pulls out his hand and studies how your arousal shines in the milky moonlight, coating his fingertips.
You make a little noise of embarrassment, and it turns his attention back to you. Wide-eyed, flushed, lips slightly parted. And a switch flips.
He grasps the back of your head to meet him halfway as he crushes his lips against yours. Bruising, but for some reason, addicting.
You moan slightly, opening your mouth to encourage his tongue and it makes his mind blur.
He tears away after a minute, and, operating as if possessed, rips your pants open.
You gasp, but have no time to reconsider: your panties are torn clean off too, and a finger is curling deep inside you.
Your wails prompt him to try another, his thumb circling your clit, the pads of his fingers pressing against the spot that makes your eyes roll. You can barely gasp his name, so overwhelmed and lost in pleasure.
It's not enough. He needs to taste you.
You almost scream when his mouth replaces his thumb, sucking desperately on your clit. He laps at you with such animalistic intent, the haze in your mind lets through one paralysing thought: how does he fuck?
The pressure builds in a way you've never experienced before - so quick and heavy, like a tidal wave, and when you cum he almost ruins his pants along with you. The sheen of sweat over your face, your heaving chest, that sweet white release trickling down his palm. More.
Your hand flies into his hair as his fingers begin to move again and his mouth is somehow faster and needier than before.
“L-Logan I can't-”
He groans gutterally as he pulls away for a second to spread your juices over your throbbing flesh, already swollen. When he dives in again, you just grip his hair for dear life.
The next orgasm has your thighs clamping tightly around his head, but he simply prys them apart again. You tug at his hair and he finally breaks away to kiss you hard.
You taste yourself on his tongue.
He doesn't let up until you're both in desperate need of air, and you take the opportunity to strip off your top and bra. His hands, shaking you realise, come up to cup your tits gently, his eyes greedily savouring the sight.
“Beautiful..perfect..let me fuck you.” He gazes in your eyes with such desperation, you lean forward to cup his face and kiss his nose.
“Anything, anything for you, Logan.”
-
You don't give a damn about that rug burning against your back. Not when he's so deep inside you, you swear you can feel him in your throat.
“Sweet girl,” he sucks into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “Take me so well, does it hurt?”
“Mm-mm,” you hum, eyes welling with tears of overstimulation. “Just move. Fuck me, Logan-”
He lifts your knees, pressing the backs of your thighs to your chest, and slams into you over and over at an unrelenting pace. Your mouth hangs agape, crying for the pleasure. It's as if the beast in him has bled into your skin, making you want him closer, deeper, faster. You claw at his shoulders. He leans down to nip and nuzzle at your jaw and neck, but your lips only move to moan.
“I can feel you - so tight - cum for me, sweetheart,” he grunts out, “cum all over my cock.”
You do as he wishes with a scream of his name.
He watches the sticky mess where his dick meets your cunt grow with your latest release, and he wants even more.
You're too dumb to register how he hasn't cum yet, but is pulling out of you. You let him manhandle you with ease until you're on your front, cheek against the floor while Logan grips your hips to keep your ass up.
Like this, he can better watch it all drip out of you.
You let out a little whine, eyes fluttering shut as you're sure he just wants a final look. You jolt as you suddenly feel his tongue thrust into your hole and curl. “No more-”
You shiver at the obnoxious wet sounds of him licking up the mess between your thighs, pushing back against his face despite yourself. You breathe out a sigh of relief when he pulls away - then you feel the head of his cock notch against your entrance.
With the last of your deteriorating strength, you try your best to crawl away from his sloppy thrusts.
“I'm not done,” he growls, pulling you back onto his cock and pounding you harder. You give in, eyes rolling, back arching, front pressed to the floor once more.
“Give it to me.”
You can't.
“C'mon.”
He reaches round to rub your clit in mean circles.
“Let go.”
You cry, and clench so hard around him it feels as if your pussy is pulling him in.
You gush around him, and his hips stutter as he approaches his own release. You press back as you feel him try to slip out - “Inside me, Lo, fill m' up..”
With a shout, he cums deep inside you, only pulling out once completely milked dry. He groans at the sight of your twitching thighs, and the creamy mess leaking from your cunt. He pushes it back in before standing.
You're a sticky, panting, fucked-out thing when he gathers you in his arms, pressing his lips to your hairline.
“Can I keep you?” he grins down at you, the first time you've seen him smile. You beam and kiss his cheek.
“Keep me forever.”
a/n: this has not been well edited but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless! I've had a bit of writers block but the first part of the knight!au and the bbf!peter oneshot is on its way, slowly lmao
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ashlynlovestlou · 8 months ago
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I haven’t seen or read any sleeping with Ellie or Abby headcons and you’re such a lovely writer!!! I wanted to ask if you can write something like that maybe?
i'm gonna give you both because i'm in a good mood today!!! also thank you for the compliment i love you
masterlist nsfw!!
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having sex with abby!!!
ꕤ₊˚ i've said this in sooo many of my fanfics, but abby is the most gentle person ever. in contrast to her large build and huge muscles (and ability to manhandle you however she pleases) she's such a softie. she's such a soft!dom and nobody can change my mind on this. she's never rough with you unless you blatantly ask her to be, but she much rather prefers slow and gentle sex and just taking her time with you.
ꕤ₊˚ abby is also big on toys!!! there, i said it. she buys/finds all these weird things to use on you in bed because it's such a turn on for her. yes, she does like seeing you get off on her fingers or her mouth or anything else, but she much rather prefers to use a strap or a dildo or a vibrator or something because she thinks you're just so damn pretty like that.
ꕤ₊˚ abby is definitely a whimperer. like, this girl is quiet because she much rather would like to hear you instead of herself. so she'll muffle her pretty moans s just so she can hear yours.
ꕤ₊˚ abby is big on kissing during sex (unlike ellie, but i'll get to that in a second) she likes kissing your lips, your cheek, your forehead, your hairline, your neck, behind your ear, your collarbone, your titties (and when you choose doggy, she'd kiss your bum cheeks every once in a while)
ꕤ₊˚ that's another thing. abby is an ass girl! even when you're not having sex, her hand will be in your back pocket. she'll pinch your booty as you walk by her sometimes, and she can't resist spanking you when she sees you bent over getting clothes out of the dryer or taking food out of the oven.
ꕤ₊˚ abby likes to put you in a ton of crazy positions. she likes doggy, when you're bouncing on her lap, literally anything but basic ol' missonary
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having sex with ellie!!!
ꕤ₊˚ unlike abby, ellie prefers skin-on-skin. it's way more intimate to her, and she can feel you better when you're coming on her hand, her mouth, or even her thigh. that's why she loves taking baths or showers with you, so she can feel every curve and every inch of your body. she'll use her strap SOMETIMES but she prefers to be able to feel you on herself and not on some plastic dick. she loves tribbing with you, for this exact reason.
ꕤ₊˚ even though she likes the intimacy of being skin-on-skin with you, she likes to pound tf out of you. she'd never hurt you intentionally, obviously, but she loves hearing your moans grow loud. plus, ellie has a thing for making you squirt. she was slam into you until the sheets are soaked or you pass out. she's not aggressive, but she definitely likes it rough at least a little bit.
ꕤ₊˚ unlike abby, ellie likes to use names on you during sex. like "whore" or "slut", but she'll apologize once it's all over to tell you she doesn't really mean it. when you ask her to go more gentle, she'll call you things like "honey" "baby" or "beautiful." depending on the way that y'all are fucking, she'll use different names.
ꕤ₊˚ ellie doesn't like kissing you during sex!!! it's not that she's opposed to it, per se, but she would much rather take eye contact with you over kissing you. she likes the idea of watching your face as she fucks you so good, knowing that nobody compares to her. she'll cradle your head, her elbows propped up on the bed on both sides of your ears. your legs are wrapped around her hips as her pelvis snaps into yours, and she's just holding your face, pressing and occasional kiss to your hairline. ugh, i need her so bad.
ꕤ₊˚ tbh i dont think ellie has that many kinks, but she definitely likes to get high before a nice fuck. the two of you will spend half and hour or so just rolling joints and smoking, etc. until eventually she beckons you to sit on her lap and you'll grind on her thigh n everything. until eventually you both just give in and she'll fuck the life out of you.
ꕤ₊˚ ellie is the queen of aftercare. even though abby is also very good at it, ellie takes it very seriously. she'll clean you up and shower you with kisses. and then she'll put some of your clothes in the dryer to warm them up a little bit before dressing you herself. she's so sweet :').
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illyrianhaze · 6 months ago
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shadowed hearts azriel x reader
✧ how azriel’s shadows led him right to you.
✧ wc: 1.1k
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When you and Azriel met, you were standing outside the flower shop you owned in the heart of Velaris, painting a patch of sunflowers below the windows
You saw his shadows before you saw him, the wispy black tendrils pooling around your feet before climbing up your legs and swirling around your body
You watched them with fascination for a moment before you heard Azriel’s voice for the first time from behind you
“I apologize for their behavior. They don’t normally act this way around strangers.”
Or at all, he thought to himself, but all thoughts left his head as he was met with the face of the most beautiful female he had ever seen
You laughed, turning and replying easily to him, “It’s no worry. They’re sweet.”
As you spoke, the shadows lifted to your face and caressed your cheek while tangling themselves in your hair, pleased with the sound of your voice
This was much to the embarrassment and horror of poor Azriel, who was desperately trying to call his rogue shadows back to him
“I’m very sorry,” he apologized again. “They usually listen to me,” He said with a slight annoyance creeping into his voice as he kept trying and failing to pull his shadows away from you
You laughed again, hoping to ease his worries. “Really, it’s no trouble, Azriel.”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise that you knew his name, which made you laugh again at the beautiful male in front of you
His shadows, on the other hand, started dancing around you happily, pleased at the sound of azriel's name on your lips
“You know who I am?” Azriel felt a wave of nerves hit him at this discovery, worried that his intimidating and sometimes violent reputation that often preceded him would be enough to scare you away
“Of course I know who you are. You’re pretty famous around here, you know. The feared spymaster of the Night Court, famed protector of the High Lord and Velaris.”
You were teasing him and he knew it, but still Azriel felt himself blush at your praise
Feeling warm at the reaction you were getting from him, and deciding you definitely couldn’t let this rare opportunity to get to know the shadowsinger pass you by, you decided to take a leap of faith with your next words
“Honestly, I feel honored that your illustrious shadows find me so interesting. I must be someone worth getting to know.”
You said the last bit with a sweet smile, hoping they’d make their desired effect
Judging by the blush on his cheeks you guessed that they did
Expecting more silence, you opened your mouth to speak again but stopped as Azriel exhibited a sudden burst of confidence
“They’re a good judge of character. If they think you’re worth getting to know, then I may just have to listen to them.”
You felt his smirk deep in your chest, his incredibly attractive face threatening to knock you off your feet, an attraction that you had never felt before seeping into your bones the longer you looked at him
“How would they feel about you taking me out to dinner this weekend?”
You had never been so bold in your life, but there was something about the male in front of you that made you want to open yourself up for him entirely
A few shadows finally darted back towards Azriel, whispering in his ear telling him to respond positively to your question
Ignoring the shock at his shadows telling him what to do, he thought of the best way to respond for a moment before he spoke
His face remained stoic for a moment long enough that you worried you had crossed a line, but before you could start to backtrack and apologize for overstepping, an amused smile snuck onto his face 
“I believe they would feel honored.”
Both of your smiles were contagious at this point, and the shadows in question were dancing excitedly between the two of you as they were being talked about, knowing they really were being the best damn wingmen in Prythian at the moment
“I’ll be away for a few days, official and scary Night Court protector business.”
You laughed at his teasing, and Azriel was quickly realizing he was going to really miss your smile when he wasn't around you
“I’ll be back Saturday. I can come by and pick you up at six. Does that work?”
You nodded and tried to focus on your breathing as his deep voice was starting to make you feel dizzy
“Then I guess my shadows and I will see you soon, sunflower.”
You smiled but furrowed your brows at the name before remembering what you were doing before he arrived, turning around to see the small yellow sunflowers you had painted below the front window of your shop
You turned back around to reply only to find that the shadowsinger was gone, leaving you feeling lightheaded and wondering if you had dreamed the whole encounter
You went back inside your shop, continuing with your day trying not to think about Azriel and the fact that you actually had a date with the shadowsinger
As you opened the door of your shop at the end of the day to change the sign on it from open to closed, a lone black shadow flew in with a small piece of paper and a single sunflower
You took both, thanking the shadow before it twirled once around your neck and perched upon your shoulder, waiting for you to read the note (that was written in impeccable handwriting, you noticed)
Counting down the days until I can see that smile again. See you soon, beautiful.
You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you as you read Azriel's words. Turning your head to the shadow at your shoulder, which was patiently waiting for your response before it would return to Azriel with its report, you couldn't shake off the excitement building inside you
“Tell him I’m looking forward to it.”
You watched as the shadow seemed to nod before sliding quickly past your cheek and racing off into the chilly Velaris night
Clutching the note and the single sunflower to your chest, you made your way towards the stairs leading to your apartment above the shop as a gentle smile graced your face
As you headed towards your bedroom and settled into bed, you realized with a chuckle that amidst the excitement of flirting with Azriel you had forgotten to give him your name
Deciding to fully embrace the anticipation of all you had to learn about each other, you closed your eyes and slipped into dreams painted with visions of Azriel and whispers of his shadows.
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a/n: I have so many ideas for these two!! let me know if you’d like to see more of them :)
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amywritesthings · 3 months ago
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in the wrong. / levi x f!reader
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for @levievent #levimonth24. (day one: pre-canon, first time)
pairing: gang leader!levi ackerman x military police!reader word count: 2.4k summary: You're Military Police. He's public enemy number one. Getting involved with one another is wrong.
tags: 18+ MINORS DNI! pre-aot, in the canon of 'a choice with no regrets', smut, enemies to lovers, military brutality mention, first time, bottom!levi, virgin!levi credit: dividers by @saradika-graphics
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And so it goes—
There’s no disputing if waiting here in the dead of night is right or wrong.
Leaving your post, forcing your colleagues to pick up the slack — it’ll catch up with you eventually.
Military Police stationed within the Underground City is about as much of an oxymoron as it comes. You see the irony of walking these streets as the symbols of order when it’s a place that thrives in disorder. 
Your superiors don’t wish to save these people.
You — your squadron — will do nothing here.
(But he could.)
Meeting with the leader of the most notorious gang in the city started out as an accident, really. 
You’d minded yourself down here, still trying to do your job when you could: helping elderly people walk their rotting groceries to their door; aiding a young child who found themselves lost, only to witness the dilapidated home they came from; smuggling your own rations down from the surface to feed the sick.
In their eyes — wrong.
In his — confusion.
If you ever came into contact with the perpetrator known as Levi, then you were meant to engage.
Albeit fast on his feet and even faster with a weapon, his ever-growing group of goons were the Military Police’s biggest enemy.
You’d just spotted a redhead doing her best to creep up one of the staircases towards the surface, assuming no one was watching.
There are people up there, you remember saying.
Her wide eyes stared back at you with uncertainty, like perhaps getting her attention was a trick to set her up, but you’d managed to grab her by the scruff of her dirtied vest.
The small girl made a noise of protest, but you did your best to press a finger to your lips:
Silent.
Pulling her back into the shadows with you had been the smart move — the unit at the top of the stairs trudged down the stairs and into the Underground pathway, presumably to cause trouble.
They always did.
You held onto the stranger until the unit disappears, letting go only once the place is clear. 
The girl turned around, seemingly breathless. “You… why?”
You didn't know.
“I don’t know,” you confessed, blinking between her face and the pathway. Paranoid. “Those two are pieces of work. Nasty. Would’ve had your damn head on a platter.”
“So you saved my life?” she asked, and the musical naivety of her voice squeezed your aching stomach.
“It wasn’t that noble,” you promised softly. “Just… be more careful.”
She realized as seconds pass: you’re letting her go.
There’s nothing to arrest her for.
The people down here suffer enough.
When she left, you thought it was the last time you’d ever see her.
.
.
— —
.
.
  It isn’t.
.
.
— —
.
.
  “The hell is an MP doing here, Isa?” 
You can’t say. You’re not sure.
The redhead, a common recurring figure in your time patrolling the Underground, seems to have taken a liking to you when she surely shouldn’t.
Isabel Magnolia, you learn, is her name.
Talking to you about her life, asking questions about the surface, wondering if there’s a better life up there—
She’s a part of a found family she definitely shouldn’t be telling you about.
You explain that, while the sun is beautiful, the surface isn’t much better sometimes.
If there’s a better life, then clearly you wouldn’t know it.
You’re stuck down here, too, whether you’d like to admit it or not.
Perhaps by choice — you enlisted for a reason — but nonetheless stuck.
She’s so cheerful. Trusting. 
You hate that for her.
(Someone could take advantage. Doesn’t she know that?)
Yet when Isabel grabs your hand one day and excitedly pulls you down an alleyway, telling you she has to show you something, you wonder if this is the moment where your stupidity catches up to you with a final blow to the head.
So it begs the question while you’re standing in an oddly pristine, clean-to-the-edges apartment in the middle of the city where two boys stare at you like you’re the devil incarnate:
What the hell is an MP doing here?
An ashy-haired boy yelps from his spot at a round dining table, catching a second dark-haired boy’s attention. He whips around, the whites of his eyes growing while he stares directly at you.
Immediately you recognize the cold stare, the raven-black fringe sweeping against them.
A smaller frame for a man but nevertheless daunting.
Billowing white sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. His hands are busy scrubbing dishes at the sink of their quaint kitchenette.
The one they call Levi.
“This is the girl who saved me a few months ago,” Isabel chirps like it’s nothing, happily tugging you further into the apartment.
Your uniform feels constricting, like it’s threatening to choke you out.
“You never said it was a goddamn MP, Isa,” the lankier boy whisper-shouts as he stands from the table, his head whipping between the other two. “Levi? The hell do we do?”
Levi’s silent, observing you.
“Isabel, I should go,” you murmur to your odd friend, looking over the ginger warily. “They’re right. I shouldn’t be here.”
“But why not?” Isabel asks with confusion. “You’re not like them. Furlan, she’s really not, she’s actually really—”
“You’re the one who saved her ass from MPs?”
Levi’s voice, smooth like honey and deep like a rumble, cuts through your panic.
You turn your chin to regard him, lips parted with an apology you shouldn’t owe.
“She was getting too close to the stairwell,” you confess softly to him, clenching your fists at your sides. “I know how the MPs treat people down here. I didn’t — I couldn’t let something happen to her.”
“Why?” he asks abruptly, eyes narrowing.
Isn’t that the question of the hour:
Why are you trying to get yourself fired and tossed down here with the rest of them?
“Because it… was the right thing to do.”
He makes a noise, something of a tch, before picking up a fourth tea cup.
.
.
— —
.
.
  If your colleagues knew you spent the better part of your shifts in the Underground talking to their number-one public enemy, with your backs against adjacent brick walls — you facing the street, him in the shadows of an alleyway — they wouldn’t hesitate.
Execution style, side by side.
You confess the routes of your brethren.
You warn them of the dangers of different colleagues that want nothing more than to hurt people, to use their position of power for worse.
It takes time — months upon months — but eventually his group grows stronger than your unit.
They could very well kill you themselves, if they wanted.
Maybe you’re like Isabel with the desperation to connect.
Maybe you find yourself hating the animals your colleagues become under the guise of an endless night.
Levi meets with you weekly, if not daily, by this point.
For the good of his friends, he claims. Nothing more.
You don’t blame him.
(Yet the more you talk to him, learn about what he’s built, what he’s about, the less you feel like returning to the sun.)
.
.
— —
.
.
  He likes tea.
That much you’ve gathered in your time sitting in the living kitchenette of their apartment.
You’ll never forget the change in his expression, usually so stoic and emotionless, when you produced a small bag from under your emerald cloak late one evening.
“The traders down here don’t carry these blends,” you tell him, pushing the bag towards him.
His eyes squint, observing the brown pouch with confusion, before reaching to delicately unravel the tie holding it together.
Levi lets out a gentle huff when the aroma hits him, face smoothing with recognition.
Fresh leaves. 
“Why?”
It’s a question you’ve even asked yourself.
You get things for Furlan and Isabel all the time, their requests for surface goods fairly frequent, but—
“Because you never ask for anything,” you confess. “And it’s the least I can do.”
“But why?” he questions again, softer this time.
His gaze flickers to yours.
Your throat clenches with the truth.
“I don’t know.”
A lie.
.
.
— —
.
.
  You’re meant to be patrolling the streets of the Underground City in the dead of night.
Another lie.
All you’ve learned to do is hide, steal, and lie.
Yet nothing feels closer to the truth than Levi letting you into the small, cramped apartment.
Opening his home to you.
The enemy.
“Furlan and Isabel are elsewhere tonight,” he confesses under his breath when he closes the door.
“Elsewhere?” you ask him quietly. “Are they safe?”
“You would know if they weren’t.”
You step forward, anticipating the same song and dance you’ve played for over a year now.
Instead of dancing with you, playing the game, Levi stays put. 
It forces you chest to chest, eye to eye, and suddenly you realize just how blue those gray eyes really are.
Stormy, like a sky he’ll never see.
Something shifts in his expression. Something lighter, tangible, as he takes a slow inhale through his nose.
You shift on impulse, angling closer, until you feel the heat of his face.
“Can’t,” he states, like you know what he’s saying.
By now, you do.
“I know,” you whisper, and those eyes dart lower.
Cheeks.
Nose.
Lips.
“Shouldn’t,” he argues to no one but himself when he leans closer. 
His breath tickles your face.
“Wrong,” you agree, accidentally brushing your lips to his.
A single act opens the floodgates.
Both pairs of hands jump as your lips smash into one another’s.
His palm cradles the back of your head while yours guides his cheek closer, directing the angle of the kiss.
With a purposeful push, he slams you into the front door, caging you in and causing stars to flash behind your eyelids.
You’re already undoing the straps of your uniform with haste — he may have stolen ODM gear in the time you’ve known him, but you’re not confident he knows how to disrobe a military uniform.
He seems grateful, because he grunts against your lips and flicks his tongue against your lower lip in thanks. You part your lips obediently.
Can’t, but you’re still hopping up into his arms the second you free your lower half of white uniform trousers.
Shouldn’t, but he catches you with ease, digging his free hand into the flesh of your ass while he pivots and walks with you in his arms.
Wrong, but he drops down to his couch anyway, letting you sit in his lap.
There’s no time for decorum.
His hand blindly dips down your lower belly and slips under the fabric of your panties, groaning when he realizes you’ve been wet since you saw him.
You make the tiniest noise, a strangled moan at best, and you feel it right against your lips:
A smirk. 
Brief and fleeting, but you felt it.
Lazily dragging his fingertips in a circle around your clit, your breath becomes stagnated. Shaky.
Your bare thighs clench around his, trying to keep your wits about you, but his hand only proceeds faster to ruin those efforts.
“Off,” you weakly state, reaching between you to pathetically tug at his own trousers.
Levi pulls away from your mouth, staring up at you in his lap. “That’s—”
“What I want,” you interrupt, and you see his throat bob with a swallow.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confesses, and it feels like the closest you’ve ever gotten to knowing the essence of him.
“You don’t have to,” you promise. “I do.”
Once, fumbling at the cadet barracks.
It was awkward and quick and unremarkable.
Yet the way Levi’s eyes widen with recognition, you already know this is what you want — him, every fragment of him, hidden away from the world.
Pushing him to the couch cushions, you raise your hips to help him push down his trousers and underwear.
His cock springs free and his hisses at the contrast of the cool air and his hot skin.
You take advantage of the moment, wrapping your hand around him.
The way he whines when your hand leisurely pumps will be burned into the back of your skull.
“Are you sure?”
His question manages to weave itself through the hazy maze of your mind.
Glancing down at him, you note how flushed his cheeks have become; how his chest rises and falls under that flowing white shirt. He looks utterly wrecked without having to do much of anything.
“Are you sure?” you ask in return, giving your answer rhetorically.
Panting, the dark-haired boy nods.
Certain.
So are you.
“Just touch me,” you tell him, and Levi leaps at the damn opportunity to do so.
He raises up from the couch to loop his palm around your neck, dragging you down with him into a searing kiss. You moan into it, gently nudging the tip of him to your entrance.
When his hand returns to your clit, eager to draw those noises out of you, it only makes it that much easier to slowly push yourself down onto his length.
Both of your mouths drop open, wide with a soundless shout, as you ease him fully into you.
Wrong.
Over and over, the word plays in your mind.
Levi groans as you drag your body up, then down, beginning a tentative rhythm.
Wrong.
Nothing fills you like him.
Nothing fills you like this.
He lets you set the pace as you fuck him on his couch, the sounds of your pleasure mixing in the midnight air.
Faster.
Harder.
His hand grips your hip so hard it could leave a bruise.
You don’t care.
He groans a semblance of your name, something he rarely does, and squeezes harder.
Close.
If he’s never done this, then you know he won’t last long.
With your own climax coming at you with a vengeance, you can’t find a reason to care.
Suddenly you feel it — the wave rises so fast and falls that you don’t have time to warn him.
Within seconds you cum around him, violently shuddering around him as you cry against his mouth.
The sheer force of it causes Levi to gasp sharply, hips slamming abruptly into you so he’s buried deep—
He doesn’t have time to warn you, either.
He cums just as hard, sealing the loud moan with a kiss to your lips.
You still your hips, spent — his arms catch you when you crumble against his chest, desperately trying to catch your breath.
You’ve passed it: the point of no return, forced to confront a choice with no regrets.
The aftermath, euphoria clouding judgment, hasn’t quite hit yet.
Wrong.
(Neither of you care.)
.
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author's note:
Thank you so much for reading! This one shot was unbeta'd and written in two hours so I hope this insane "I woke up with this idea and really wanted to participate" story made you as sweaty as it made me this morning.
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so0thsayer · 3 months ago
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random lost boys HCs !!! (x gn!reader)
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I have to get these out of my system. They have been marinating for far too long man omg. Also, this is also my first post so................ lets pray i did this right🙏🙏 also i didnt really proof read lol
let me know if you wanna see more stuff like this :3
WARNINGS: mentions of scars, drugs, biting, scratching. slightly suggestive (nothing too crazy)
David: 𖦹 I'd kill for you.
𖦹 loves to leave marks and love bites anywhere he can sink his teeth. His favourite places to mark would probably be the back of your neck, between your shoulder blades and the inside of your thighs. He understands the importance of the marks not being visible to the public - so he likes to sink his fangs in places that most people cant see. BUT- he'd def leave hickeys in very obvious spots.
𖦹 Wants everyone to know you're his. Not afraid to get handsy in public if you let him.
𖦹 enjoys a good book every now and then, but only when your head is on his lap.
𖦹 typa guy to guide you around with his hand on the small of your back, or his arm around your waist/ shoulders 24/7.
𖦹 Your seat in the cave is right next to his
Paul: 𖦹 He’s very touchy, but times that by 1000 when he gets his lips wrapped around that stick of holy grass (yes i am a paul does drugs sometimes believer). He would want to feel the heat of your skin, even scratching at you sometimes just to have a piece of you under his nails.
𖦹 Not scared to show affection in public. He has no shame.
𖦹 CONSTANT flirting
𖦹 Has a collection of stolen goods. Even stuff that he would never use. If you show an interest in a trinket he has stolen, he'll give it to you whether you want it or not.
𖦹 music buff. loves sharing his takes on popular songs and artists. He likes to bring you to the boardwalk stage to listen to some live music, usually sitting on the outer skirts of the crowd.
𖦹 has a bunch of stupid pet/nicknames for you. (dollface, sugar, sweetness, etc.)
Marko: 𖦹 hovers over you a lot. Always getting up and going places with you without a question, even if you dont ask him to come. He just really enjoys your company, never shy of interesting conversations.
𖦹 This man's love language is playful teasing, dont try to tell me otherwise !!! Not even in a mean way- just always striving to make you laugh in his own way.
"You got something there" He points at your shirt. As you look down, he flicks your nose. "Gotcha." He chuckles.
𖦹 the best at cooking out of the four of them, often taking over the cook pot to make your favourite meals.
𖦹 he'd bark at someone if they tried to get with you LMAO
𖦹 one of his favourite ways to pass the time with you is hitting the up the boardwalk clothes stores. He loves picking out new clothes for you, letting you know how good you look in them. "Damn, babe."
𖦹 having you over his shoulder gives him a constant ego boost.
Dwayne: 𖦹 I'd die for you.
𖦹 definitely love marks, scars etc. idk, he just seems like the kinda guy who would. He loves the way they feel under his fingers as he caresses his lover’s skin. He reads the stories they tell like brail. And for stretch marks, he loves the way they glisten in the light as they fade, and he loves the way they make an indent, rather than a bump for once. Perhaps he'd also like leaving a few marks of his own, like a bite mark or two, but he also doesn’t want to hurt you at the same time.
𖦹 cuddling with this man would be incredible.
𖦹 loves it when you play with his beautiful hair :3 (has a hard time asking for you to tho- he feels a great warmth when you do it without him asking). honestly just loves being touched by you in general
𖦹 he isn’t so much a go out of his way to smother you kinda guy, but he will gladly hug you tightly if you hug him. His favourite ways to touch you are to wrap his arm around his waist, putting his arm over your shoulder while you’re sitting with each other and stroking your hair and skin while you lay your head on his lap. He just loves to feel your warmth on his cold finger tips.
𖦹 100000000x more affectionate in private dude
𖦹 the moment you ask him for something he’s on it. “Hey, could you get me-“ and he’s already handing it to you. He loves helping you in every way possible.
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hope you enjoyed my first post !! :3 I know it's kinda short but I couldnt really find anything else to add😭 i am stressed
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endless-ineffabilities · 1 month ago
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the only place (Ewan Mitchell x f!reader)
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a/n: a purely self-indulgent little blurb inspired by the latest crumbs of our Iceberg! <3
main masterlist ▪︎ next part
Ewan attends the press night of The Other Place. As the audience is filing in, and the theatre is abuzz with excitement, he sees you.
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Ewan could not stop looking at you.
It was almost silly, the way his head kept whipping back in your direction, as you stood a little distance away, talking to Bethany.
Harry and his friend were telling Ewan of their recent trip to Ibiza, and he didn't want to be rude, but their words were becoming muffled due to him straining to hear the sound of your voice. You gestured enthusiastically to Bethany as you regaled her with a story, and that smile – damn, that smile.
"So we ended up staying until 8 that morning, can you believe that?" Harry exclaimed, pausing to allow Ewan to react.
When he received no response, Harry trailed Ewan's gaze right to you.
"You smitten, mate?" Harry grinned. "Go say hi to her!"
"Wh-what?" Ewan stammered. Smooth. It wasn't an easy drop from high up in the clouds where his mind drifted. You drew him there, and he remained suspended in your allure.
"That's Beth's friend. She's really lovely, you know. You should introduce yourself," Harry said. When he sensed Ewan's hesitation, he pressed on, "Come on, you clearly want to."
Bethany was pulled aside by another friend, so Ewan took that as his cue, his legs moving as if on autopilot. A moth drawn to your flame.
He reached you, and your eyes widened slightly at his sudden appearance.
He had always thought himself a poet at heart, spending countless hours poring over complex books, but all he could muster in that instance was, "Hello."
But it apparently was enough, because you smiled brightly at him. You practically glowed in his eyes.
"Hi," you replied warmly. "Oh, I know who you are. I love Aemond Targaryen."
"Oh?" His heart jumped, pitter pattering in his ears. "Well, I'm flattered. Thank you."
"Yeah, I think you're a brilliant actor." You expressed genuinely, before offering your hand out and introducing yourself.
"That's a beautiful name," he remarked.
"Thanks," you mumbled shyly, looking down briefly. Was he getting to you? Was he having the same effect on you as you have on him? Impossible.
"You're friends with Bethany?" he asks.
"I am, for quite some time now. Ever since I moved to this city."
"Hmm." He smiled, his confidence gaining a much needed boost. He asked you a couple more questions, eager to hear every one of your responses. The attraction only deepened the more he found out about you.
At some point, he asked, "How are you finding the city? Has Bethany shown you around?"
"Well, the city's been amazing. You really can never run out of stuff to do, and Beth's been great at taking me to the best spots out there, you know?"
"Yeah, that's good. There's this... uhhh... indie cinema that I go to all the time. It's quite lowkey, very niche. Do you like watching movies?"
You beamed, shrugging as if to say obviously. "Movies are my bread and butter, Ewan."
"Mine too," he noted, before hitting home. It was now or never. "We should visit that cinema together sometime."
A beat passed. His throat tightened slightly in anticipation. He must have done something wrong. He forgot to say please. He forgot to add, if you want.
Was he coming on too strong?
"Are you asking me out?" You tilted your head at him, eyes narrowing. He took a mental picture, saving it for your grandkids.
Yours and his. He cringed inwardly. He severely needed to get a grip.
"Yes... I am."
"Well, then... I would love to."
He thanked his lucky stars. He thanked Emma in his mind for starring in that play and inviting him tonight.
That play – truly the best and most excellent that there ever was and ever will be. And it had not even started yet.
To Ewan, no other play will ever compare until the end of time.
Because it led him to you.
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mr2swap · 5 months ago
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The great shift: a stinking symbiotic relationship
I came home empty-handed, I hadn't even been able to get a job as a cashier at McDonald's, but I can't blame them who would hire an overweight middle-aged man like me... A lot of things are different since the Great Shift, but I guess that some things remain the same, I opened the door to my apartment and the first thing I looked at was my old body sitting on the couch with an annoyed look.
-Dude, What the fuck? You were supposed to be here 35 minutes ago, my phone is blowing up with messages on our subscribers! You know them, they can't wait a minute for any of this! -
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Gary Muller, my roommate and my “business partner,” flexed one of his enormous biceps until the shirt that covered the muscular and perfect body that used to belong to me almost burst, then with one of his long fingers he pointed to one of his armpits that for a moment They were dry.
Gary took off his shirt, revealing the body he used to look at every day in the mirror, grabbed a pair of dumbbells that were on the floor and started working out for our afternoon show.
-Yeah... I'm sorry, I went to a couple of job interviews, and they went a little longer than I thought, just... let me change while you train a little-
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He just ignored me and went about his business while I walked into our apartment. I had heard that many people ended up in bodies thousands of miles away because of the Great Shift, but me and Gary living next to each other was a strange coincidence.
I didn't know anything about Gary before all this. Furthermore, I only considered him as the old man who lived next to me, sometimes in the mornings while my uncle went to the gym I could see him leaving the building, dressed in a cheap suit and heading to his office job. It was a surprise for me, One day I woke up in his apartment with his old body.
 The Real Gary was as surprised as I was, the first time I saw my old body from Gary's perspective I was speechless, there was an expression of confusion on that beautiful, symmetrically perfect face, the long, muscular arms of which I used to be so proud now they were in someone else's possession, but the worst of all was how short I was now. The height difference between us was enormous, while I was almost two meters tall Gary was 1.50 CM Even some children They are taller than me now.
But over time I got used to Gary's horrible old body... every day I prayed to get my old life back, but every day I woke up with horrible back pain and with a face older than my father's, perhaps the most strange now is the hair, Gary started going bald since high school and when he turned 30 he decided to shave all his hair, Gary's bathroom was full of hair growth products that hadn't worked for years.
And while I was suffering from trying not to adapt to the life of a 48-year-old, the real Gary was enjoying his new youth and his new muscular body. I learned that people treat you very differently when you look like a damn stud instead of a wrinkled Troll.
He could hear through the walls like the real home, and he had fun with my body and with all the boys I brought to my old apartment every night, I had never realized how thin the walls were in this building Until for the first time I heard the powerful moans of my old voice at the same time that Gary used my cock to fornicate another man.
Time passed and society continued on its path, for me, it was surprisingly fast how the government recovered from all this. But there was only one problem, there were a lot of unemployed people everywhere, and among all of them was me.
I used to work at the local gym as a trainer, but with this body that had never been in a gym in its entire life, I was quickly fired. On the other hand, Gary's company went bankrupt when most of the investors ended up in young bodies And they decided to sell the company.
As the days went by, Gary and I became somewhat of friends, I helped him with exercise routines and taught him about the nutrition My body needed, We decided that it would be much cheaper for both of us to live together while all this was resolved, And I returned to my old apartment, but I felt like a stranger among my own things. I settled in the smallest room surrounded by my training equipment that was totally useless to me now, everything was too heavy.
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Living with Gary was certainly better than living on the street, But every day it made me reconsider if that was true, Unsuccessfully I tried to get a damn job, so I could get out of that apartment and start my life over in Gary's weak old body. I felt like a parasite even with Gary, he paid the rent and all the house services.
On top of that, he used to party every night and hang out with his new gym friends during the day, it was a total mystery to me how he made so much money... until I started receiving some strange messages on my old Instagram account. .
“Hey buddy, was this your body?”
“Dude, are you DaddyGary?”
“Damn, you had such a hot body… I always knew what was under those shorts, you didn't disappoint me.”
It wasn't hard to realize that Gary had been making his filthy armpit fetish porn for those desperate gays. I felt so dirty watching the videos of my old body worshiping his sweaty armpits after the gym.
I immediately confronted Gary about it, and surprisingly he admitted it very quickly. He didn't seem embarrassed, or sorry for doing it, I could even notice a slight mocking smile on his face as I told him how humiliated I felt while a bunch of perverted men masturbated with my stinky armpits.
It was at that moment when those words from Gary sealed the destiny I am living in now.
-Those “disgusting” things like you call them are what pay the rent for this place and keep your old ass from sleeping in some dumpster. And if you want to continue sleeping in your comfortable bed, it's time for you to start contributing a little money, and I know how you can do it... Come here -
He flexed both arms showing his armpits, I was surprised to see that he had recently shaved his armpits, eliminating all the wild hair that I previously kept in my sweaty pits, I... I couldn't control myself, I don't think he's homosexual, but the powerful musk of my old armpits made me react like a bee to honey.
Gary took his phone and started recording me while he worshiped his wet armpits with my tongue.
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-You like it, right?… “Gary” Do you like the taste of your old body? Can you believe this used to be me? Damn, You really are pathetic, “Gary” -
It had been several days since I had ejaculated, I had thought Gary's body had erectile dysfunction or something, but at that moment my little cock was hard as a rock and hot as hell. I had never felt this way, my head was completely clouded by the addictive testosterone filled aroma of my old armpits.
-Look friends, “Gary” is jerking off, it seems like he still misses his old body... Maybe we should let him play with him another time...-
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Hello, if you liked this story and you want more, you can take a look at my Ko-Fi page to see my most recent stories, see my new stories and support me to continue creating this hot content.
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moonlight-starlight-lady01 · 5 months ago
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How...how are you alive?
Kenji sato x Fem! [Different demention] Reader.
☆♡☆♡☆
SUMMARY:Ken had a lover named Y/n, but she had passed away. He was devastated from that. Then 2 years later his mother was declared dead. So he took the opportunity to move to japan and restart his career in his home country. But then something strange happened. There was a exact copy of his lover in his living room. Except she wasnt his y/n. She was different.....from a different demention.
[A/n:Im gonna try and make this into like a series i guess lol]
(Warning: sexual tension, angst, confusion, crying, my cutie ken sad basically the whole story. Y/n has brown eyes & brown hair[ya know bc shes from a different demention]<tell me if i missed any>)
Pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5.
♡♡♡♡
It was different. Sad. Not like what he had thought his life would feel like. Y/n had died 2 years ago because of cancer. He remembers her blue eyes sparkling like the ocean when the sun began to rise from the night sky. Her blonde hair swaying in the wind perfectly all fluffy and soft. Her plumped lips smiling showing her pearly white teeth. Her dress would be thigh length and sway in the wind so majestically. Her sweet voice would say the most beautiful things when she spoke. But then....her eyes became dried cracked wholes in her head. Her hair began to fall out and become like straw. Her smile started to turn into a signature line. Her voice started to sound ruff and hard. But one thing never changed. How much she loved Kenji. Everytime she saw him walk into her hospital room with the signature red roses and smiling happy to see her fiancé. But then it all ended with that one last beep on the monitor. After that he didnt want to find love ever again. It hurt to much. The sound of her laughter when they would cuddle and tickle each other. Or when they would wake up with each other in bed and stay there all day. It wouldn't be the same.
Then 2 years after that his mom was declared dead. Something snapped in him. He moved to japan to restart his career and forget about everything that wanted to make him cry all day.
So now he was on his way to play basbell. The Giants. Fight as Ultra man. And restart. But how he had asked to please make the pain stop to anything that could have the power to. Anything.
.
.
.
That was until he woke up to a crashing in his living room and a female screaming.
He had grabbed his baseball bat and tip toed to the sound. It was a girl. A women. She turned around and looked at him scared.
.
.
.
It was Y/n.
But it wasn't her exactly....She has brown hair and brown eyes. Probably taller than her and more plump in some areas...*ahem*.
"(Y/n?)"
She looked even more confused. "Uh, yes" she said uncertain. "Who are you and why the fuck am i here?"
He was in shock. Why was there someone that looked like his y/n but so so different. Plus his y/n never cussed. The only bad word he ever heard her say was crap. And she said fuck like shes used to saying it.
"W-Wait, you dont know me?" Kenji asked confused. He waited for her answer. ".....nooo?"
Fuck. What the fuck. How is this possible.
But, after some time. He learned that Y/n was 22 and was living in California. She worked at a cafe and book store to make ends meat. She was the complete opposite to what y/n was like. She didn't even have the same color at all like her. Brown hair, brown eyes, playful/sassy attitude and less innocent.
"Well, can you help me get to my home demention because like ya know, im not suppose to be in this one?"
Damn. She's right. She has to go home sometime. He looks at her thinking.
"Plus, everytime you look at me your litterely burning holes into my ass and tits"
Yep she definitely not his Y/n. How will this go now. His life is already a mess to began with...
♡♡♡♡
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shy-writer-999 · 17 days ago
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Summary: Zoro likes to choke you. He’s a fan of doing it to the point where you can’t breathe. ~800 words, short and (surprisingly) sweet!
CW: Afab reader, no gendered language, choking, breath play (erotic asphyxiation) (!!!!!), dirty talk, P in V.
MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.
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Zoro has a thing for breath play and choking. You converted him to it, really. He was pretty apprehensive about the whole thing when you proposed it.
But when his cock was in you and your face turned red from his hand around your throat, it got him off more than anything else. He loved to hear those desperate whimpers and sputters from your lips as he restricted your oxygen and rammed your dripping-wet core. When your moans turned into labored gasps and your eyes rolled back in your head, his cock throbbed and the coil in his stomach threatened to snap.
That damned haki of his. It made the whole thing more enjoyable, easier—he was able to read you so clearly, he could see when it was too much, when you were about to literally pass out. He could tell when your vision was just starting to get blurry, when your pleasure was on the verge of being too much. So, he brought you to the edge each time, like you asked, and then let you breathe again.
Every time his fist tightened around your throat, he could feel your walls squeeze and clench around his length, milking precum out of his cock while you struggled to breathe. He liked that you were a sadist. That you enjoyed the pain of him crushing your throat, the fighting for air while he hit your g-spot with every plunge of his cock into you.
You arched your back and clawed at the sheets while he dragged his girth in and out. Each pass elicited another moan from you accompanied by a squelching sound. He spoke down to you, grunting words between ragged breaths. Sometimes it was praise, other days he’d degrade you, most often he’d make love to you.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he groaned and stared down at where his cock slid into your slicked up folds. “Pussy feels so—so fucking good.”
Zoro’s hand would usually find its way to your throat. You’d have to prompt him sometimes. He’s a sweetheart and a gentleman. So, he needed some coaxing occasionally.
“Come on, Zoro,” you mewled softly and looked at him, lustful and lidded eyes beckoning for more. “Choke me, please. Hard. I want it.”
He’d fold with ease and snake a huge, rough hand upwards.
Some days, the choking would be just choking. No breath play. He’d wrap a hand around your throat and leave it there, squeezing softly, not cutting off your airway. But other days he’d edge you while he stopped you from breathing. You’d feel like you were floating, either that or drowning, suffocating in the purest, nastiest pleasure imaginable.
“God, you’re fucking filthy. So fuckin’ desperate for my cock, so needy and messy. Fuhhhcckkk.”
The more worked up he got, the nastier things said. “Take it all for me, baby. Cream on my cock and let me fuck you full.”
When your cheeks were ruddy and only the whites of your eyes were visible, he pumped harder and brought a thumb to your clit. His hips rolled artfully, rocking into your sensitive, hot spot. Frequently, when he was close to orgasm, the hand around your throat crept upwards and cupped your cheek.
"Fuck, you're beautiful." He couldn’t help it. You were always so sweet for him, so patient, so desperate, so good. His lips met yours, salty from sweat, sloppy with desire, and demanding your affection. He put his forehead on yours and rubbed his thumb in circles on your cheek while he kissed you passionately.
Zoro always made sure your orgasm was white-hot and so euphoric you couldn’t speak. He loved to kiss you through it, savoring the feeling of your moans vibrating his mouth, your slippery tongue wasting no time to press on and swirl around his.
When your whines reached a desperate pitch and you writhed on his shaft, he fucked you slowly through your climax, helping you ride out last ripples of pleasure on his cock before he pulled out.
He tried his hardest to not bruise you. He was successful most of the time, but when he first started out, he didn’t have as good a handle on it. Whenever he squeezed a little too hard now (only ever when you asked for it), he’d get a sick sort of satisfaction watching you go about your day with faint bruises from his fingertips along that pretty throat of yours.
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thanks for reading!! here's my masterlist and here's my october posting schedule.
i'm posting each day from now until halloween!
finally, trick or treat? (tumblr links)
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