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girlgenius1111 · 16 hours

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unhappy reunions

sol runs into her parents after the copa de la reina final no warnings.

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“Solstråle?”

You froze. You knew that voice, knew it well. Your mother normally didn’t call you by the nickname Ingrid had given you, and that almost surprised you more than her surprise appearance.The noisy cafe still existed around you, but when you turned around, that was all forgotten.

“Mamma?” You whispered, instinctually taking a step backwards from the woman in front of you.

It made sense; you should have known better than to expect your parents to miss one of perfect, perfect Ingrid’s important games.

“Hei, kjære.” Your dad said gently. He had his hand on your mom’s elbow, holding her back from taking a step closer. It wasn’t as jarring to see him, but your body had been plunged into panic the moment you’d seen your mothers’ face.

“I-.... I can’t,” you mumbled, backing up until your back hit the door. The last thing you saw before you turned to leave was a heartbroken expression on your mom’s face. As if she was upset you wouldn’t talk to her. You were confused, overwhelmed, and so, so upset.

You booked it back to the hotel. As fast as you could, walking as quickly as would be socially acceptable. You’d forgotten the coffee you’d ordered, which you only realized as you got in the elevator at the hotel. You were kind of torn on whether to head to your room, or to Ingrid and Mapi’s. They’d probably still be asleep; the celebrations had gone late the night before, and you wanted them to rest, to really soak in the victory.

But honestly, you weren’t sure you’d be able to calm yourself down, and you knew your sister could. You made a decision that you wouldn’t have a few months ago, maybe even a few weeks ago, stopping in front of your sister’s door rather than your own. You chose company over self pity, and comfort over punishing yourself. And it felt wrong.

Mapi answered the door. “Good morning Sol!” She said cheerily, stepping aside to let you in the room. The bathroom door was closed and you could hear the shower running, which explained where your sister was.

“Hi.” You said, your voice much shakier and quieter than normal.

“You okay?” Mapi asked, shutting the door and giving you a concerned look.

“Yeah.” The lie was instinctual. “No, actually. No. I… I went to get coffee.”

Mapi looked at your empty hands, raising an eyebrow in question.

“I saw my mom. She- both of them. My mom and my dad, they were in the coffee shop I went to. And I saw them.” You looked away from Mapi as you spoke, staring down at your hands. They were trembling.

“Sol,” Mapi sighed and reached out for your hand, though you stepped backwards, shaking your head at her.

“Please don’t touch me.” You whispered, pressing the heels of your palms tightly against your eyes. You felt so unsettled, so uncomfortable. Suddenly, Zaragoza didn’t feel safe, you didn’t feel safe. You wanted to go home, or maybe you just wanted to hide yourself somewhere quiet and far, far away from anyone else.

Mapi stood for a minute, not sure what to do. You’d never refused a hug from her before and though she realized that you coming to their room as opposed to hiding away in your own room was a step forward, everything about your body language was screaming that you were miles away, back in Norway. Norway, where you didn’t feel loved or noticed. Where you shied away from hugs because you weren’t used to getting them. Mapi heard the shower turn off and wasn’t sure whether or not to be glad. Ingrid might be overwhelming for you, as it seemed like you were already overwhelmed, but Ingrid could sometimes get through to you in a way that only she could.

“Okay, Sol. Everything is fine, cariño.” She tried to soothe.

“No! No, everything isn’t fine. They aren’t supposed to be here, I don’t want to see her. Are they here to take me back? I don’t want to go back. I want to go home, to Barcelona. I want to go home Mapi, please.”

“You aren’t going back and you don't have to see anyone, nena.” Mapi promised, stepping closer with her hands raised slightly in the air. “Tell me what to do, tell me how I can help.”

“I don’t know, I don’t know.” All you could do was shake your head back and forth, trying to keep yourself in the present.

“Okay, Sol, just breathe. Just breathe for me.” Mapi soothed, taking a slight step forwards. It didn’t seem like you were hearing her. It didn’t even seem like you were in the room with her.

“Mom, please please don’t send me away. I want to stay here with you. Please mom, please.” You sobbed. Your head hurt from crying, from going back and forth in circles with your mother.

“You are going, and that is final.” Your mother said firmly. She didn’t really seem to see your tears, or how upset you were.

You looked towards your dad, who couldn’t meet your eyes. “Dad, please. I don’t want to go. I’ll be better, I promise, just please,”

Your father opened his mouth, as if to reply, but your mother beat him to it. “Enough. We are not changing our minds.”

You wiped a few tears away. “How can you do this to me?”

“Do this to you?” She repeated incredulously. “I’m always the bad guy with you. No matter how much I do, nothing is ever enough. You are ungrateful. You are only capable of thinking of yourself. This is not the kind of person I raised you to be. You say that you are anxious and depressed. I think you’re lying, and I am sick and tired of your excuses for this poor behavior. It is a miracle your sister is even willing to take you in. I am sure she has no idea what she’s getting herself into. You will go to Spain, and you will learn what it's like to not have someone do everything for you. And until you learn that, do not bother coming back here. I do not want to see your face again until you have cleaned up your act.”

The room fell silent as your mother took a step back, a flicker of emotion flashing across her face. Your dad still wouldn’t look at you. If he had, he would have seen that the tears had stopped. You stood, looking like you’d been struck. In that moment, you hated yourself as much as your mother seemed to. Even if you didn’t understand why she felt that way. You were pretty sure it was warranted.

“I am sorry for yelling. I just get so frustrated with you sometimes, and I don’t know what else to do.” She stepped closer, stopping when you took a step back. “We are doing this because we care about you.”

It was always because they cared about you. Never because they loved you. Your mother had stopped saying love a long time ago, around the time you’d started acting out. You wondered if you’d ever hear it again. From anyone.

“Sol, I need you to breathe.” Mapi said, bringing you out of your thoughts. You raised your head to look at her, and she almost cried herself at the downright haunted look on your face. The next second, you were practically lunging towards her, a broken sob falling from your lips.

“I want Ingrid.” You choked out, pressing your face into Mapi’s shoulder. She nodded quickly, arms holding you securely to her, even as you trembled violently.

“Ingrid,” Mapi called.

“One second.” Ingrid replied, not hearing the urgency in her girlfriend’s tone.

When Ingrid walked out of the bathroom, clean and dressed in the clothes she was intending on wearing to the airport, she stopped in her tracks. Mapi was holding you close against her, shushing you quietly, and you were sobbing.

“María? Solstråle? What-?”

Mapi just shook her head, waving Ingrid to come closer. Your sister crossed the room quickly, filled with confusion and worry as she saw the state you were in. When you didn’t seem like you were going to explain anytime soon, Ingrid looked again to Mapi.

“She saw your parents. They’re here, in Zaragoza, she saw them in a coffee shop.”

Ingrid felt fury rise in her, but she pushed it aside, softly stroking over your hair with her hand. “Sol, I’m so sorry.”

Once you felt your sister’s hand on your head, you turned around, falling into Ingrid. You squeezed her tighter than you ever had before, the only thought in your head that you did not want to go back.

“Ingrid, don’t let them take me.” You sobbed.

“Elskling, I am not letting anyone take you anywhere . You are staying with me, okay? I promise you.”

Ingrid had seen you upset before. Really upset. Nothing came close to this, though. It felt like just when she thought she understood how much damage your parents had done on you, something else would happen that told her it was far worse than she'd been thinking.

And at the worst possible moment, the door flew open and Patri and Pina’s loud voices filled the room, before they fell completely silent. They froze in the doorway, realizing that they had walked in on a full breakdown from you. They’d heard from Ingrid and Mapi that you’d been struggling. Until now, it had been hard to fit that information into the image they had of you. Smiley quiet Sol.

Neither of them knew what had happened to get you to this point, cradled against your sister, sobbing so hard they weren’t even sure you knew they were there.

“Out.” Mapi said harshly, moving to block your trembling form. She’d never snapped like this to her teammates, and though they had already been on their way out of the room, they moved faster.

“Sorry, Mapi.” Patri said quietly, yanking Pina out of the room quickly and shutting the door behind them.

“What-?” Pina began.

“I don’t know. Whoever hurt her enough to be like that… I don’t understand. She’s such a good kid.”

“If Mapi ever goes to jail for murder, we’ll know who she went after.”

Patri nodded her agreement.

Back inside the room, you had stopped crying, save for the occasional sniffle. Ingrid almost preferred the crying to the completely blank look that had washed over your face.

“Sol,”

“Pina and Patri?”

“They won’t say anything to anyone, and they won’t make fun of you, Sol. Not for this.” Mapi promised.

“Okay. Good. I need to pack.” You said stiffly, stepping away from the comfort of your sister, and turning to walk out of the room.

“No, Sol. No. Stop for a second. We cannot pretend that didn't just happen.” Mapi cut in. A flicker of surprise flashed across your face, as Mapi was normally the one to encourage Ingrid to let you take things at your own pace.

You looked between her and your sister, wondering how you could explain it in a way that made sense to them. “ I can’t think about this any more before we go home. I just need to go home. Please.”

For once, Mapi looked conflicted while your sister nodded instantly. She understood. You hated unfamiliar places. You were introverted that way, while Mapi was very much the opposite. There was never a feeling of complete safety when you and Ingrid were away from home, and she understood why you didn’t want to deal with this now, here. Not when you were only a few hours from being home.

“Okay. I get that. I am not leaving you alone right now, though. We still have a few hours until we have to go, so take Mapi with you to finish packing, and then go find me coffee.”

You nodded weakly, moving only once Mapi had given you a kind smile and began to lead you out of the room.

Ingrid waited until the door had shut behind you both before she grabbed her phone from her pocket, and clicked on a contact she hadn’t even looked at in a while.

-------

She was doing the right thing. That’s what Ingrid told herself. It had nothing to do with the desperate wish to see her parents, even if she was so furious with them she couldn’t put it into words. She missed her mom, and she had for a while. Ingrid was doing this for you, though; she was putting you first.

When she entered the bar in the lobby of the hotel, she saw her parents instantly. They were sitting at a small table in the corner of the bright room, conversing quietly. Her father kept shaking his head, and her mother seemed to be insisting on something.

Making her way over to the table, Ingrid schooled her features and took a deep breath.

“Hi.” She said neutrally, taking the open seat at the table without really looking at either of her parents.

“Ingrid.” Her mom said happily. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Your sister dug her nails into her palm. Think of Sol. Think of what they have done.

“I’m not here to chat. I am here to tell you to stay away from Sol. She isn’t ready to see either of you right now. I didn’t realize I had to be specific in my request for you both to not come to the final, but you’ve crossed the line here. You had no idea how upset Sol is.”

“Ingrid, we didn’t mean to run into her. We just came to see you play. It was completely coincidental, our flight back home leaves this evening.” Her dad explained.

“You told us what Sol needed, and we want to respect that. But we have really missed you, and you’ve had such an incredible season. We just wanted to see you play.” Her mom chimed in.

“And what about Sol? Have you missed her?” Ingrid asked bitingly.

“Of course we have. I know we… I messed up. I made a lot of mistakes. I wasn’t well, Ingrid, but I’m doing better now and I want-”

“Sol is not going back to Norway.” Ingrid snapped.

Her mother nodded instantly. “I know. I want your sister to be happy, and it seems like she is. The best place for her is with you, I understand that. I don’t get to be upset that she doesn’t want to come home, not when I’m the reason she had to leave in the first place. I want to apologize to her, Ingrid. Not today, but maybe we can come to Barcelona? And we can talk to her.”

The suspicion on Ingrid’s face said enough. Her mother knew then that what she had broken was not fixable. Her relationship with you may not even be salvageable, and her one with Ingrid was broken. Potentially beyond repair.

“I don’t know. I’ll talk to her when we’re home to see if she wants to do that.”

“Okay. Whatever you think is best, Ingrid.”

The table fell into silence before your father spoke, his voice oddly choked up. “How is she?”

Your sister’s eyes flickered to your fathers before she answered, trying to gauge his sincerity. “She’s okay. She’s doing better. It’s not perfect, but she’s happier. We got her a dog, and she’s making friends. Her and Mapi are… crazy together, but it’s fun. She’s going to be okay, I think.”

Your father gave Ingrid a watery smile, blinking hard.

“Ingrid, I want to say I’m sorry to you, too.” Your mother said after a minute.

Ingrid glared at her. “For what? I am happy to have Sol here, I love her. She isn’t a burden to me.”

Her mother flinched, wiping a tear off her cheek. “That’s not what I meant. I… she’s doing better, and that is because of you. Because you are doing an incredible job with her. I am sorry because what I have done has understandably pushed you away from me. And it isn’t fair for Sol not to have had an attentive mother, but it isn’t fair for you either, to lose me too. It’s my fault, and I’m sorry. I miss you, kjære. I love and miss you both, but I understand.”

Ingrid stared out the window for a moment, willing herself not to start sobbing. “Thank you for apologizing.” She said finally. “I miss you too, but that doesn’t change anything. Sol needs me, and she is my priority. She hasn’t been yours in a long time, but she is mine and I will do whatever she needs me to do. Even if that means not seeing you both.”

Both your parents nodded solemnly. “We understand, Ingrid. Really, we do.”

Ingrid nodded, biting her lip hard to keep from crying. God, she wished Mapi was here right now.

“Okay. You should get back to your sister. We’re so proud of you, Ingrid. We’ll be cheering you on in the champions league final, and if Sol decides to hear me out, you know how to reach me. I love you, darling.” Her mother said, standing and pressing a kiss to Ingrid’s head, before she walked away from the table. She, too, was trying to keep it together, for her daughter’s sake.

Your father rose and gently patted her cheek. “I love you, kiddo. Fly safe.”

“I love you too.” She whispered, but both her parents were too far away by now to hear her.

She couldn’t stop the tears from dripping down her face as she headed for the elevator. She wiped furiously at them, but they fell all the same.

The elevator opened up in front of her, and she was met with a very concerned Frido.

“Hey. Mapi told me you were meeting your parents, and I… oh, Ingrid.” Frido sighed. At the sight of Frido, Ingrid had stopped trying to fight it, stepping in closer and letting out a heart wrenching sob. Frido tugged Ingrid back into the elevator with her, carefully wrapping her best friend in a tight hug.

“I know, I know. It really sucks.” Frido whispered, clicking the button for your sister’s floor. “You’re doing the right thing for your sister, though, and I’m really proud of you, Ing.”

Your sister wished she could find it within herself to feel proud, but the only feeling she had was that she really just wanted a hug from her mom. And more than that, she wanted to go back in time and erase all the hurt from your life. She wished things could just be fixed but she knew they couldn’t be, not quickly, maybe not at all. And that was something she was going to have to live with.

-------

You seemed weighed down with despair when Ingrid arrived back in her room. And distracted, finishing the final touches of packing Mapi’s suitcase. Mapi hated packing, and you loved it, so there was no confusion on Ingrid’s part as to why this was occurring. What was a bit alarming for her, though, was that you didn’t even seem to notice the tear tracks on Ingrid’s face, even though you looked right at her. You were an observant person, and not noticing how upset your sister was spoke volumes towards how poorly you were handling this.

Mapi didn’t miss it, though. Of course not. She glanced up, seeing her girlfriend’s face, her brow instantly furrowing in concern. Ingrid refused to meet her eyes, terrified that she’d start crying again, but this time in front of you.

“Hey, Sol? Can you go up to Frido’s room and see if I left my book there?” Mapi asked.

You nodded absentmindedly, walking right past your sister and out the door.

“Come here, princesa,” Mapi sighed, allowing Ingrid to fall into her arms and bury her face in Mapi’s t-shirt. She just held the Norwegian for a few minutes, every so often pressing a kiss to the side of Ingrid’s head. Mapi made sure to thread her fingers through Ingrid’s thick hair, as she always did when it was down, scratching gently at her scalp. Ingrid tried to focus on the smell of Mapi overwhelming her, instead of any of the one million emotions she was feeling. “Did it not go well?’

“No, it went okay. Good, actually. They’re both completely aware that this is their fault, and they aren’t going to try to make Sol go back to Norway. It was just hard. I miss them, and I know I shouldn’t-”

“Hey, no. There is no should or shouldn’t when it comes to how you feel, mi amor. You can miss them and be angry at them all at the same time. And missing them doesn’t mean you love your sister any less. Okay?”

“Okay.” Ingrid nodded, trying to muster a smile for her girlfriend. “Thanks for sending Frido down, I was kind of a mess.”

Mapi just flashed a smile at the Norwegian, gently kissing her cheek. “I love you.” She said softly.

Ingrid wilted slightly, overcome, as she usually was, at how ridiculously perfect her beautiful girlfriend was. “I love you too, María.”

-------

Ingrid and Mapi had left you alone in the airport for five minutes, going in search of coffee before Ingrid went on a killing spree of some kind. And it was in that short period of time that Patri and Pina very suddenly appeared on either side of you, flopping into the open seats next to you.

You regarded them warily, trying to figure out if they were going to say something about it or not.

“If we have to kill someone for you, we will.” Claudia said matter of factly. “More importantly, though, Mapi is going to fall asleep on that plane. And you are going to write something on her forehead.”

“Am I?” You asked, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

“You are. I am thinking something along the lines of… I love my girlfriend?” Patri suggested.

“Single and ready to mingle.” Pina countered.

“Heterosexual.”

“World’s biggest simp.”

“Loser.”

“Little bitch.”

All three of you were giggling at this point, attracting the attention of a few of your sister’s teammates sitting nearby. Among them, Esmee. She was a quiet girl, incredibly kind and also fond of your sister. Esmee was shy, and as such, the words that came out of her mouth were completely unexpected.

“#1 Real Madrid Fan.” She suggested, a small smirk on her face.

You fell off your seat, tears forming in your eyes as you pictured both Mapi’s reaction to that being written on her forehead, and at Esmee being the one who had come up with it.

You didn’t notice Ingrid and Mapi watching on from a few feet away, having stopped in their tracks at the sound of your laughter.

“I didn’t think I’d see her smile for a few days at least.” Ingrid murmured.

“Me either. Thank god for the two biggest imbeciles on the planet.” Mapi said with a roll of her eyes.

“No, not imbeciles. They saw she was upset earlier, and they knew what they were doing just now.” Ingrid said softly, exchanging a look with Patri. The young captain sent Ingrid a huge grin and a sly thumbs up.

Mapi got a slightly mushy look on her face. “My favorite imbeciles.” She decided.

Ingrid laughed, shaking her head. She knew very well that Pina and Patri would be right back to being Mapi’s least favorite imbeciles. Just as soon as Ingrid helped them draw on her girlfriend’s face.

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“I don’t even like penises.” Mapi grumbled, dragging her bag through the door. “Stupid thing to draw.”

You and Ingrid choked back laughter. “No one gets a penis drawn on them because they LIKE penises Mapi.”

“You are on my list Engen.” Mapi sneered, her face cheering up greatly as Bagheera ran to greet her.

“Hey, just be glad Alexia stopped them from putting it on your forehead.” You giggled.

Ingrid turned to you, wide eyed, while Mapi whipped around, her jaw dropping. “Ingrid said SHE stopped them from doing that!”

You dodged the wack Ingrid tried to land on your arm, laughing even harder. “Nah, Ingrid was pro penis on the forehead. Alexia was too, until she realized there’d be cameras when we got off the plane, and she changed her mind.”

The Spaniard frowned down at the large drawing on her forearm, before her glare turned to you. “Oh, just wait, Engen. You’ll regret this.”

A scandalized look appeared on your face. “Me?! It was Pina and Patri.”

“They will pay too, pequeña, don’t worry. You’ll all pay.”

You rolled your eyes at the Spaniard’s dramatics, but your amusement completely disappeared when Ingrid rested a hand on your shoulder and turned you towards her.

“Can we talk for a sec, Sol?”

Worry clouded your face as you nodded, allowing Ingrid to lead you into the living room. She wanted to be honest with you, tell you what had happened as soon as she could. You both were home now, and she knew you’d be upset if she kept her conversation with her parents from you for any longer.

Taking a seat on the couch next to Ingrid, you turned expectantly to Mapi. Ingrid never had an important conversation with you without her girlfriend there as a buffer.

“I am going to get the dog.” Mapi said, giving you a reassuring smile before she headed back out the door with Scout’s leash in hand.

“Ingrid, I didn’t really want to talk about-”

“I talked to mom and dad.” Ingrid interrupted, wincing slightly at the panic and hurt that flashed across your face.

“Oh.” You mumbled.

“I just wanted to tell them to leave you alone, sweetheart. We didn’t talk for very long. They just said that they want you to be happy. Mom was really… apologetic. And she said that she wanted to talk to you. I told her that it was up to you, whether or not you wanted to talk to her.”

“Oh.” You repeated. Ingrid couldn’t get a read on how you were feeling. Overwhelmingly, it seemed to her like you were anxious, so she reached out and took your hand. “Mom wants me to go back to Norway?”

“No, Sol. She wants you to be happy. And you’re happier here than you ever were in Norway. I think she just wants to talk. To apologize.”

“Oh. Okay.” You paused, trying to slow your pounding heart. You didn’t have to go back. “Do you- do you want me to talk to her?” You asked insecurely, eyeing your sister with apprehension.

Ingrid shook her head again, running a hand through her hair. “Solstråle, I want you to do what you want to do. I want you to decide what will be best for you. Don’t think about me, Sol. Think about you.”

She spoke so earnestly, you had a hard time figuring out which thing she really did want. But the more you thought about it, the clearer it became.

Ingrid had always been close with your parents. The last few months must have been really hard for her, barely speaking to them at all. Ingrid probably wanted you to make up with them, so that she could do the same. Even if you didn’t go back to Norway. You could put your family back together again. That was what Ingrid wanted.

You opened your mouth to tell her you’d talk to your mom, before you slammed it shut again.

Ingrid had also said she wanted you to choose what was best for you. And if you were sure about anything, it was that you weren’t ready to talk to your mom, not yet. It didn't come naturally to you, putting yourself first and making a decision that would be best for you, and not for the people around you. BUt you felt you owed it to your sister to be honest. To do what she was asking. Ingrid had done so much for you the last few months. She just wanted you to be happy. And you wanted to be happy, too. More than anything.

“I… I’m not ready yet. I don’t want to talk to her. Maybe in a few months, but not… not now.” You said quietly. You didn’t seem confident in your decision at all, but Ingrid understood what that insecurity was really about.

“Okay, Sol. Whatever you want sweetheart. Whatever makes you happiest.”

You looked up at her, tears welling in your eyes. “Really?”

Ingrid exhaled sharply, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Really.”

You nodded your head, before leaning in towards Ingrid. She hugged you tight.

“I’m really proud of you, Sol. Really proud.”

You squeezed her tighter. You were proud of you, too.

------- :)

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni x reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #🍓☀️

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s-brant · 2 days

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Three’s Company

When Patrick visits his best friend at Stanford University, Art’s new fling finds herself stuck between two very attractive men.

9k (18+)

Warnings: smut, threesome, unprotected p in v, double penetration, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, they’re all pervs, and strong language.

The room is stiflingly hot.

There is no air conditioning in her study/fuck buddy's dorm to keep up with the late April heat that has descended upon Stanford's campus so quickly. Three different fans are plugged into outlets around the cramped living space, yet it does little to keep her body cool enough to feel comfortable.

Sleeping with Art was an impulsive decision. The first time was merely weeks ago after he politely asked if she would share her notes from a class he was absent from. They exchanged numbers to organize the meeting, and she ended up talking to him for the better part of an hour in the dining hall. Although she did not recognize it as flirting—the oblivious little thing she is—he shyly commented on seeing her at one of her gymnastics competitions and refused to let her get dinner with her meal credits. Looking back, his intentions should have been obvious to her, yet she does not think badly of him over it. If anything, she likes how wanted he made her feel. He knew what he wanted and ensured that he got it.

They came back to his room to study—only to study, he claimed with his hands held up to proclaim his innocence—for their approaching final exams.

"Good," she said with a teasing lilt to her voice, slinging her bag onto her shoulder and turning to walk in the direction of his dorm building. "Cause it's way too hot to be doing anything else."

They were both laughing as he set down his racquet bag to unlock the door. It was muffled through the wall, but Patrick heard it just fine from where he was perched on the foot of Art's bed with Tears for Fears playing on the unlabeled CD he dug through desk drawers to find. The sound of a distinctly feminine giggle made his mouth turn up at the corners in a smirk. This will be fun to tease his closest friend over until his cheeks flush pink and he has to hide his face in his shirt.

When the door swung open, the laughter died out as soon as they realized they weren't alone, but it was quickly replaced with wide smiles and warm greetings.

Patrick tried not to look her up and down so blatantly. Instead, he chuckled and said, "Art, you conveniently left out that you had a girlfriend on our last call."

To this, Art set down his bag and tackled him onto the bed, starting a minute-long wrestling match that only ended when they began to sweat from the heat and physical activity. It was then that Art remembered to have manners and introduced her. He scrambled to sit upright on the mattress and met her curious gaze.

"Y/N, this is Patrick. I'm sorry, I forgot what day he was coming."

She smiled.

"It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you." A pause, and then she turned her attention to Art. "Do you wanna study another time? I don't wanna intrude or anything."

Before Art could open his mouth to tell her to stay, Patrick aimed one of his charming grins at her, then said, "No, please intrude. I'll just hang out. You won't even know I'm here."

The last sentence caused a disbelieving scoff to leave Art’s lips.

As of right now, as she sits on the chair in front of the desk and the boys share the bed, they have gotten halfway through the study guide they meticulously constructed after one of the two classes they share, but it grew boring once an hour and a half passed. They typically end up getting distracted and make out by now, but with Patrick here, neither of them considers that an option. So, she suggests they take a half-hour break to sit, drink, and talk to allow their brains to decompress from the constant stimulation.

He already had a few beers inside the mini fridge beneath his desk, along with a hard seltzer for her seeing that she finds the taste of beer disgusting but quite enjoys being drunk with him. Also kept in the freezer section of the fridge is a pack of ice pops she bought a few days ago when the heat wave began. They prove to be very useful right now as the midday sun bakes the building alive despite the closed curtains and blowing fans.

The CD has moved onto Nine Inch Nails, and she remains quiet to hear it over the sound of the fans as she holds a red ice pop to the side of her neck to cool herself off. Sometime along the way, both of them had stripped down to their underwear after asking her if it was alright because it was so hot. Patrick joked that he was alright with her taking her clothes off too, which she laughed at while Art playfully shoved him over it. Yet now she isn't laughing. Her small exercise shorts are as forgiving as any item of clothing could be in these circumstances, but the long-sleeve shirt she wore because it was the only clean one left is sticking to her skin.

"So, how did you and Art meet?"

Her eyes open to find Patrick glancing back and forth between them.

"It's a boring story, actually," she says. "He asked if I took notes for a class he missed, and now he's stuck with me all the time."

"No, no, okay, maybe it was boring from her perspective, but I was trying to work up the nerve to talk to her for at least a week before then. I went to one of her competitions and recognized her from class," Art explains. "She won, which wasn't surprising at all."

Although she already knew this, this is the first time he has admitted to it out loud, and her stomach flutters at the idea of him becoming so enamored with her from one glance. The popsicle is sweet on her tastebuds when she raises it to her lips and sucks with her eyes looking between them both. As she expected, Patrick shifts a little in place and looks away for reasons not at all related to how she was looking at them while sucking her popsicle.

She chuckles.

"So, you were just interested in befriending me 'cause I win a lot?"

Her tone of voice is taunting, but they know it's all in good fun. Art is quick to play along, shrugging his shoulders to feign aloofness and taking a quick swig of his beer before responding. Their eye contact grows intense in the seconds before he speaks.

"Well, there were some other contributing factors."

"Mm," Patrick hums in agreement. "I've never seen you compete, but you are really hot, so Art's right about that."

This makes her pause for a second, her gaze shifting to find Art's to see if his friend crossed any lines, but he appears strangely calm about it. What she doesn't know is that he has never had any problem sharing, at least, not with Patrick. They shared a room in boarding school, jerked off together to the same girl, and shared the court together—what was his would always be Patrick's, and what was Patrick's would always be his.

"You're flirting with me right in front of him?"

Art interjects, "I'd be shocked if he didn't."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he's standing up from the bed to get another beer. The dorm room is small, so it only takes a few strides for him to meet her where she sits before the desk and kneels down to open the mini fridge. His left hand braces itself on one of her thighs while the right swings open the fridge door only to find there is no beer left. Rather than complain, he simply grabs one of her least favorite hard seltzer flavors and gives her thigh a firm squeeze before standing up.

The bed creaks beneath his weight when he sits back down on it.

He settles into a comfortable position with his back against the wall and legs spread, balancing the seltzer can on his bent knee. Patrick sits close to him, and she finds it difficult to peel her eyes off the pair of them in their current state of undress. Her gaze mostly lingers on Patrick seeing that she has already explored every inch of Art's lean body in the plentiful amount of times they've hooked up over the past few weeks. But, that being said, she cannot resist looking at Art either. Having two beautiful men laid out before her in their underwear is a treat she never expected to indulge in today. They each have the strong, masculine figures of athletes—showing mostly in their shoulders, biceps, abdomen, and thighs.

When Patrick notices her staring, she turns her gaze to the floor to avoid the embarrassment of being caught. If he did catch her, though, he doesn't call her out for it. Not yet, at least.

With one last bite of her popsicle, she stands from the desk chair to toss it into the small trash can beside his nightstand. It isn't until she lets it go that she realizes how close she now stands to the two of them. Only a foot or so from the bed, her heart begins to hammer in her chest at the proximity.

The way she sees it, she has two options. The first would be to retreat to the desk to let her long-sleeved shirt give her heatstroke while the men get to sit in front of the oscillating fans with their shirts off, or she can strip down to her undergarments and join them on the bed. Needless to say, she opts for the latter of the two.

Y/N lets out an exaggerated groan at the heat and fans herself with her hands for the sake of appearing somewhat innocent in what she's about to do, then reaches down for the hem of her shirt with a huff.

Art and Patrick can do nothing but watch with rapt attention side by side as she pulls the fabric up her torso and over her head. The shirt ends up falling to the floor beside her feet alongside their discarded t-shirts and pants. This leaves her in her most comfortable bra—which is Art's favorite since her nipples can be seen through the mesh material—and a pair of tiny spandex shorts.

Patrick's tongue darts out to wet his lips at the sight of her—almost angelic in her beauty—and tries to burn the image into his mind to hold onto forever. Definitely going in the spank bank, he thinks to himself as his cock begins to harden in his boxers. Beside him, Art has been stunned to silence. Even though they've fucked like rabbits since the first time, he isn't sure if he'll ever get used to seeing her like this. Those shorts hug the delicate curve of her hips, as well as that lovely ass that has been sculpted from years of training as a gymnast, and all he can think of is how badly he wants to take them off.

They sit there, dumbfounded, with their mouths hanging open just enough for her to notice and suppress an arrogant smirk. But to allow herself to smirk would be to reveal her cards, and she doesn't want them to see this as anything other than her innocently trying to cool down. Truth be told, she hasn't thought this through. It's not as though she planned this as she was sitting at the desk. It's more of an impulsive, irresistible urge. And if they will tease her so blatantly with their half-naked bodies, she is entitled to do the same.

"You," she says, jutting her chin in Patrick's direction. "Scoot. I wanna sit in front of the fans too."

Underneath it all, she's thankful that she took the time to do her hair the way that makes her feel the most confident and put a little makeup on. Not that either of them is focused on her damned makeup. No, they're far too busy ogling her figure to notice anything north of her collarbones.

After a delayed second of staring, what she said seems to register within him and spark him into action. He's quick to scoot closer to the end of the bed if it means she'll be inhabiting the small space between them.

She offers a quiet, "Thank you," and crawls onto the bed, turning around and settling into place with her back against the wall. The cool air generated by the fans blows faintly against the front of her sweat-slick chest, and she can't help but shut her eyes and hum in appreciation of it.

With her eyes shut, Art and Patrick are both scrambling to quietly conceal their growing erections. If they don't, it'll be glaringly obvious when she opens her eyes and sees a tent in their underwear on either side of her. Although the life-long friends don't speak, there's an understanding formed between the two of them. Whatever she allows them to have of her tonight, if she allows anything, they'll share nicely. Patrick knows that if anything happens, he is to assume it is a one-time thing unless she or Art expresses a desire for an arrangement of some sort to be made.

Her eyes open again a few seconds later to find them staring at her.

Breaking the silence, she asks, turning her head left to right to address each of them, "Did your mothers never tell you it's rude to stare?"

Patrick doesn't miss a beat.

"Did you know it's rude to be a tease?"

The sound of Art sucking in a deep breath meets her ears, but she doesn't look away from Patrick. Their eyes are locked, and she can see the mischief present in his. It's almost as if he dares her to do something...like he knows that she wants him just as badly as he wants her. Part of her feels guilty, feeling like she should remain loyal to Art even though they aren't exclusive, but a much more dominant part of her desires it too much to resist the temptation.

"Patrick, don't pressure her. If she doesn't want to—"

Her head turning to look at him halts him in his tracks. The look she's giving him...

Much to his shock, she was a virgin when they met a few weeks ago. He questioned her relentlessly, claiming there was no way someone as beautiful, smart, and talented as her could've gone so long without doing it, but she held firm. It was the truth, he realized after she sheepishly relayed the story of how she made out with a basketball player on Halloween and wimped out before it could go further. That first night, she was a bashful, blushing little thing. He treated her with the tenderness and reverence she deserved, first making her come with his tongue and fingers before fucking her. It was so...intimate. Her nails dug into his shoulders when he made that first, breathtaking thrust into her. Just the thought of it was enough to get him hard the next day, but he knew not to expect anything after how shy she was the previous night. Little did he know, he awakened something within her, and from then on, she would be insatiable.

He almost got whiplash from how quickly she changed from a nervous, flushed-faced girl asking him, "Am I doing this right?" when she got on top to a cock-hungry temptress ready to jump onto him at any moment. Truth be told, he found it so fucking hot. To think that he was the catalyst for this behavior was beyond comprehension. Though Art did well enough in his dating life, Patrick was the one that the girls they liked gravitated toward when they were in school together. But she was his, and he thinks, even now, that he'll always have the satisfaction of having gotten to her first no matter what happens tonight.

Y/N shifts around on the mattress so that she's sitting on the side of the bed opposite the wall, facing them with her hands on her knees and legs tucked beneath her ass. Both boys perk up a little at this, and they watch every minute movement she makes and listen to every breath she breathes with unwavering focus.

She meets Art's gaze first before doing anything. Her brows raise in question, and, in answer, he gives her a slight nod. Those pretty, cherry-stained lips of hers curve into a smirk she doesn't even bother to hide in response to this.

"Have you ever fucked the same girl before?" she asks out of pure curiosity, her tone calm and even. Her hands leave her knees to grab one of their thighs each, slowly rubbing up and down to allow her fingertips to brush the edge of their boxers. "Two guys at the same time is a first for me..."

To say that they are in a state of shock would be a gross understatement. Surprisingly, their mouths are not hanging open, and they aren't drooling at the mere thought of what she's proposing.

Somehow, Patrick finds his voice and says, "No." A second of pause, then—"Is this for real? Like you're not just fucking with us?"

The silence that follows is ripe with tension. All that can be heard is the sound of voices passing in the hallway outside of the dorm room and fans blowing on their highest setting. The hands on their thighs come to a halt at the edge of their boxers, and the softened expression on her face shifts into one of unabashed lust as she looks at Patrick.

In answer to his question, she starts to crawl over to him. Seeing that the mattress is a twin, it doesn't take too long for her to reach him and settle into place on top of him. Her hands slide up to cup his face, forcing him to only look at her when she lowers herself onto his lap. The spandex shorts hugging every inch of her figure do little to keep him from feeling the warmth of her cunt against the bulge that formed the second she took her top off.

That first brush of her lips against his is gentle, as though she has him under a trance, but it doesn't take longer than a few seconds for him to snap out of it. Patrick's hands grasp her hips first to keep her from moving away, then they slide down to knead the soft, supple flesh of her ass as he begins to kiss her back hungrily. The kiss quickly begins to descend from her lips to her jaw until he reaches the soft skin of her neck.

While he nips and sucks at the sensitive spot along the side of her neck, Y/N opens her eyes to find Art staring, unblinking, at the pornographic display before him. The sight of him alone—between his messy blonde hair, piercing eyes, and masterfully structured face—is enough to pull a breathy moan from the back of her throat. One would think that she would get used to the way he makes her feel when he looks at her like that, but she never does.

One of the arms wrapped around Patrick's neck uncurls itself to reach for Art, fingers wiggling to beckon him to her.

He's already invading her space by the time she whispers, "C'mere, baby."

Art practically melts into the two writhing bodies he kneels beside at the casual use of a pet name from her. The word echoes in the farthest reaches of his brain until it is all he can hear on a loop. Even as she grips the back of his neck and pulls him until their mouths collide, his cock twitches from the memory of her calling him baby.

Patrick continues to suck, lick, nip, and kiss his way down her neck as she slips her tongue into Art's mouth with a groan. He leaves marks behind everywhere he goes with the thought of his friend finding them on her for the next week and a half in mind. It only makes it more thrilling for him to imagine the strange mixture of frustration and arousal that will arise within Art when he rediscovers them the next time they hook up.

Slowly, she is guided onto her back by his mouth slipping down to take one of her nipples into it and his callused hands peeling her shorts, along with her soaked cotton thong, down over the swell of her ass. The freshly washed sheets are soft against her bare back as she lays back and watches Patrick worship her breasts with both his mouth and hands. In the midst of their repositioning, Art took it upon himself to squeeze into the cramped space next to Patrick, slotting himself between him and the wall the bed is pressed against. Without a word of warning, he dips his face down to kiss the breast Patrick is cupping in his hand.

She feels hands everywhere, unsure of which belongs to who. Hands grapple for purchase on her hips, her waist, her breasts, her thighs, and her ass—always moving in search of new territory to claim. Although they have no way of coordinating their actions, they seem to move in sync with one another. The second Art's mouth lowers to kiss down her stomach, which flinches inward at the feeling, Patrick follows. If she weren't so overwhelmed with everything right now, she'd likely laugh at how eager they are to race each other down the length of her body.

Their heads bump every few seconds by the time they reach her parted thighs, but they are too focused on getting a taste of her to care at first. They work with the same synchronized harmony they once had as doubles partners, Art tugging her left leg over his shoulder while Patrick shoves her right up and out until her thigh is flush with her chest. She can't help but silently thank her parents for enrolling her in gymnastics lessons years ago. If they hadn't, this would be a tad uncomfortable.

Finally, Patrick tries to shove Art to the side a little, complaining, "Come on, man, you're with her all the time."

To her surprise, it works for the first moment or so. Art places hot, open-mouthed kisses on her inner thigh as Patrick's tongue makes a broad stroke through her, but it isn't long before he grows dissatisfied with his current role in this impromptu threesome and decides to fight back. He doesn't shove or push like Patrick had, instead, he gently nudges his head against Patrick's until they can share her.

Having Art go down on her alone always feels pleasurable, but having both of their mouths on her at the same time is another sensation entirely. It's indescribable. Spit drools from their lips as they kiss her sodden cunt, taking turns flicking the tips of their tongues against her clit for the sake of hearing her moan over and over. From where she looks down at them, they're nearly kissing each other as they eat her out, and she has to tip her head back onto her shoulders to keep them from seeing her smirk.

When she looks back down, she makes a breathy, gasping sound at the sight of them. Patrick is looking up at her with an intensity no man has ever had when looking at her, not even Art, and there is no ignoring the feeling it stirs in the pit of her abdomen.

"Fuck," she whines and pushes herself harder against their faces, but it's never enough. "More—I need more. Please."

Neither one hesitates. In fact, they seem to form a plan without speaking it aloud. As Art's free hand raises from where it palmed his cock through his boxers, Patrick's lips close around her sensitive, puffy clit and start to suck. The tips of Art's middle and ring fingers brush tentatively against her hole, then, teasingly slow, push inside until they're buried knuckle deep.

The contrast of the men as lovers—Patrick being unforgiving and passionate, Art being tender and desperate—threatens to dizzy her. But Art cannot control himself for too long. He often starts slow and gentle, his eyes flooded with genuine affection for whoever is pinned under his body, then loses his composure the farther things go. By the time he's inside of her, he's almost brutal in how hard he fucks her, and it isn't out of malice, it's out of animalistic lust.

So, as per usual, the pace Art sets to begin with shifts into something harder and faster.

Over the sounds of the fans and music playing on the CD player across the room, a symphony of panting breaths, whines, and wet noises can be heard. It wouldn't surprise any of them if the people who were talking in the hallway could hear it, but it's not like they care right now.

When she closes her eyes and tries to fall back against the mattress, Patrick stops for a second to murmur, "Don't look away," before getting back to work. Something about the way his voice sounds forces her to submit to his demand without hesitation. There's an edge to it. An underlying promise that he will stop and leave her here to suffer if she doesn't listen, so she does. She watches with a slack-jawed expression at how they work diligently to get her off.

The combined sensations of the fingers pumping into her at a steady, rushed pace and the lips enclosed around her sensitive bud push her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion. Art slips a third finger in and licks between her sticky folds as Patrick sucks her clit relentlessly. Everything they do is motivated by a dire need to take as much of her as they can, as though they can't quite believe what's happening and want to savor it before they wake from the dream. Seeing their desperation only fuels the fire roaring to life inside of her.

They feast on her the way starving men would if presented with food—humming and groaning in satisfaction at the taste of her on their tongues. Through the haze she's fallen under as a result of the present situation, her gaze lifts from where both of their faces are smushed together between her parted thighs to find that they're both humping the mattress. It seems like they don't even realize they're doing it, which, of course, only makes it hotter for her. To think that she wields enough power over them, that she renders them so useless and needy...

Her brows pinch together at the feeling of Art's fingertips finding the sweet spot inside of her.

"Right there," she breathes out in a shaky voice, hand shooting down to grasp anything she can find for support.

It ends up being Patrick's dark hair that is weaved between her fingers and used as her lifeline, tugging nearly every time Art's fingertips find the spot inside of her that makes her throw her head back on the bed and cry out for them. If they didn't have her pinned down, her hips would be lifting to meet every thrust, but she cannot do anything other than take it. Every breath she takes turns rapid, her chest rising and falling dramatically, as the familiar feeling of her impending release grows nearer by the second.

She says, half warning and half pleading with them, "I'm"—The sentence is cut off before it can be said by a high-pitched moan that makes Patrick moan and Art whimper into her—"Please"—What she's pleading for, none of them know, herself included, but she continues to babble nonsensically anyway—"Ah!"

The hand that isn't pulling on Patrick's hair reaches down instinctively for the hand Art grips her thigh with, and she doesn't even need to ask him for it. He entwines their fingers and allows her to squeeze his hand until circulation is lost as she finally feels the wave that was building within her begin to crest.

It hits her harder than she ever knew it could.

Everything explodes into a sensation of bliss so strong, she loses herself in it. The only thing tying her body down to the earth is the feeling of the hands on her—touching her, fingering her, caressing her, and holding her hand—yet even that is not enough to keep her from floating away into another world entirely for the first few seconds of her orgasm. The muscles in her legs, so exhausted from being forced into a position like this, shake violently with every wave of pleasure rushing through her, and her walls clamp down around the fingers thrusting into her.

If she could live forever in these fifteen seconds, she would, but it soon becomes obvious to her that there's no chance of that happening. Gradually, the intense sensation starts to recede like the tides, and they are both there to help her ride it out to the very end. But once it fully fades, she wriggles beneath them in sensitivity.

Using the hand wrapped up in his hair, Y/N pulls Patrick's mouth away from her clit with a strength he didn't know to expect despite her obvious athletic background, and when Art notices this, he too slows the rhythmic pumping of his fingers inside of her throbbing heat to a stop. Wary of hurting her, he waits another five seconds before slowly pulling them out.

She has gone boneless where she lays on her back with her eyes shut and chest heaving for air.

Knowing she cannot see them, Patrick cuts his best friend a look and jerks his chin in her direction in a silent urging to check on her. Both men start to move at the same time, crawling over her until they reach her face. While Patrick lies beside her and trails his hand up and down her naked, sweat-soaked torso to occupy himself in the time it takes her to recover, Art licks her arousal from his fingers before grabbing her by the chin.

He asks with a teasing inflection, "You still with us?"

Her eyes slowly open to find them both staring at her, and she cannot help the slight smile that comes to her face at this.

"You guys almost killed me," she murmurs. "I think my vision got spotty for a second there."

They allow her another moment to catch her breath and recuperate in the aftermath of what she endured. She takes turns looking at them as she pants for air, laying with her arms above her head and thighs squeezed together due to her current state of sensitivity.

Patrick is the first to break the silence.

"We're not done with you," he says softly, the hand on her chest climbing up until it cradles the side of her neck. "But you know that, don't you?"

"I'd be a little bummed if you were," she replies.

Her head is whipping around at the sound of Art's voice.

"Only a little?"

She pushes herself up from where she's lying supine on the bed, which is now a mess of tangled sheets and sweat, to smack him on the arm. It's all in good fun, of course, and Art is hardly hurt by the playful blow she landed on him. Giggles escape her mouth as they begin to play fight, swatting and trying to pin one another down with Patrick there to spectate. He encourages Y/N to fight dirty, telling her where to strike, which causes Art to curse under his breath and declare him a traitor.

It ultimately ends with her on top, her legs straddling his hips and hands pinning his wrists to the bed. Based on the faraway, longing gleam in his eyes as he looks up at her, Patrick can tell immediately that she only won because Art allowed her to. Because there is something about being pinned to the bed underneath her that turns him on. And she knows it. It's easy to tell by how his erection presses up against her naked center through the fabric of his boxers.

Suddenly, she comes up onto her knees and moves back until she's hovering over his thighs. Her next words are a soft-spoked explanation for why she's reaching for the waistband of his boxers.

"Too much clothes."

But, to her surprise, another pair of hands comes to her aid in shimmying Art's underwear down his hips and legs. The way Patrick sees it, the sooner he helps her get them off, the sooner she'll take his off. And he isn't wrong. As soon as they get the boxers free from Art's body, the garment is tossed to the side without a care in the world. Neither of them looks to see where they landed, they're far too busy leaning in to kiss each other than keep track of their discarded clothing.

Her left hand is wrapped around Art's cock, pumping at a torturously slow pace, as she pulls away from Patrick with a string of saliva connecting their lips.

"Take those off," she says with a pointed look at his crotch.

To say he is sent scrambling to take off his underwear at her command would be an understatement. If this scenario itself wasn't hot enough to make her cunt throb with a desperate need to be fucked, she'd be giggling at his eagerness. But it's hard to find anything funny when she's faced with Patrick standing, one foot on the floor and his other leg braced against the bed at the knee, with nothing to conceal him from her anymore.

It must inflate his ego to heights it has never reached before to see her tongue dart out to wet her lips at the sight of him. The hand stroking Art falters as she admires Patrick's cock. It's about an inch longer than Art's yet equal in girth, curving up a little toward his hair-speckled, defined abdomen. A drop of precome has dripped from his tip, and she has to dip her head forward to get a quick taste. Those pretty lips wrap around him, not pushing down to take the rest of his shaft into her mouth but remaining where she is, flicking her tongue against the slit where the drops of sticky, pearlescent fluid secrete.

A taste is all she allows herself, though.

Her lips pull off of him with a soft popping sound, and she makes sure to maintain eye contact with him as she licks a drop of pre-come off of her top lip.

She turns to look at Art, then Patrick, then back at Art, asking, "How do you want me?"

Seeing that she was a virgin before she started seeing Art, she figures she isn't qualified to direct this in a way that'll be comfortable for everyone involved. No, if she had to bet, Patrick has the most experience between the three of them—with Art following closely behind—and he will have no problem taking control from here based on how he has acted thus far.

To their surprise, it's Art who answers first.

Patrick was still in a faraway daze from having her mouth around his cock only to be kicked when he was down by the question she asked. How do you want me? God, it's like she's trying to kill them.

"On my lap."

Art pushes himself up from the mattress and repositions so he sits on his knees in front of them, reaching for her hips to pull her closer without a second of hesitation. Her arms instantly reach for his shoulders to steady herself as she maneuvers into the exact position he had in mind. Buried beneath the music that has become white noise to them and the fans running on their highest setting, he thinks he hears her breath hitch in her throat once she's straddling his lap, the tip of his cock nudging against her clit.

Absentmindedly, she starts to grind against him, coating him in the slick arousal that seeps from her, but it's slow. A tease compared to what's coming next.

"Patrick," he says, his voice unwavering despite the excitement that makes his stomach churn. His hand slides down from her neck, caressing her breast as it passes by at a lazy speed, until he takes hold of himself and pumps a few times—as if he isn't hard as a fucking rock already. Over her shoulder, he meets his friend's intense stare. "If you wanna fuck her, you should probably get on the bed."

And while he would usually fire back something equally witty or taunting, Patrick cannot manage to do anything but nod. There's something about seeing Art this way that subdues him. He would like to think that the sole reason he's standing naked in front of his best friend is because there's a girl involved, but that isn't true. Not completely. Although Art would never admit to himself that he feels the same way, there's something familiar about this. Comfortable. Right.

The mattress dips with Patrick's shifting weight, squeaking a little beneath his knees until he settles into place behind her. His chest presses against her back, and his hand reaches up to grab her jaw, guiding her head to tilt so he can kiss her neck while Art lines himself up with her. She feels Patrick's cock pressing against her ass as the broad tip of Art's sinks inside of her.

Having Patrick's face buried in her neck, her shoulder, and back to her neck again provided her and Art a rare second of private intimacy. Her eyes, glazed over with lust, lock into his and refuse to look away. The intensity present in his gaze does not frighten her. If anything, it sends a rush of adrenaline through her body, and she takes a second to admire his soft, wide eyes. She's never mentioned it aloud before, but she has always been fascinated with making eye contact with him due to his right eye. Half of the iris is a striking, clear shade of blue while the other is a warm brown hue.

"Fuck," he says under his breath at the feeling of her squeezing down around him, her tight cunt resisting a little until she relaxes and sinks down until there's nothing left to take.

There's nothing that compares to the feeling of the first thrust he makes.

Every time, it makes her bite her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. To feel him so deep is almost undoing in itself. Then she feels another hand slide between her legs, and her mind goes utterly blank. Everything outside of this room falls away the second Patrick starts to rub her clit in gentle, languid circles to help her adjust to the stretch of Art inside of her. Patrick's lips lavish every accessible inch of her bare skin with kisses as his friend, with a hand on each of her hips, starts to lift her up and down at an unhurried pace.

Their noses and lips brush without completely touching. When she pushes her face closer to Art's, hoping to lock lips with him, he pulls away for the sake of seeing her grow hot in the face from embarrassment. The mouth worshipping the back of her neck curves up into a smirk in reaction to the games Art plays with her. Who knew he's just as fun in bed as he is out of it? Certainly not Patrick.

She mutters, voice breathy and weak, "Feels so good..."

"Yeah?" Patrick murmurs into her skin and presses his fingers hard against her clit. "Tell me how he feels."

If he could see her the way Art can right now, he'd have to suppress a chuckle at how her brows pinch together at the command. Regardless of her sudden shyness, the words he says only make her ride Art harder. Over her shoulder, Patrick searches for those pale blue eyes only to find them staring through him already. Every smooth rocking motion of her hips pushes her ass against his neglected erection, providing him with a brushing touch before pivoting away again.

"He feels"—she says, chest rising and falling faster—"He's so hard." Her sentences are hardly coherent. "Perfect—mmm—fucking me so deep." One of her hands reaches to tug his down to press it against the southernmost part of her abdomen. "Feel."

With her palm molded over the back of his hand and forcing him to push down on her belly, Patrick can hardly keep from groaning at the subtle bulge of Art's cock moving in and out of her. It's strangely intimate for the three of them to share this experience, but for him to feel every thrust through her is more than he anticipated.

Unable to fight what instinct drives him to, Patrick shifts his hips until the angle of her grinding against him allows his tip to brush up against the hole she and Art have yet to touch. He doesn't do anything more, not without her asking for it, but it's clear to both Art and Y/N that he desperately wants to. All of this physical affection shared between the two of them has made Patrick needy and jealous, so she decides to grant him mercy.

She reaches behind herself blindly to guide him elsewhere, nudging him against the hole Art is already filling. It takes them a couple of seconds to understand what she means in doing this, but, once it clicks, they start to go a little crazy. For the moment, she has stopped bouncing on Art's cock for the sake of allowing Patrick to push in beside him, and he has to surge forward to kiss her. If he doesn't distract himself with a kiss, he'll be too tempted to move.

As Art kisses her deeply, his tongue invading her mouth and caressing her own, Patrick's hand wraps around her throat for leverage with his teeth nipping at her earlobe. His hand wraps around where hers grips his cock to guide it to her entrance, and with his help, they manage to squeeze the tip in.

Her jaw drops at the overwhelming sensation, and the sloppy kiss is interrupted when her head rolls back onto Patrick's shoulder. Art doesn't seem to care, though. Now that her head is tipped back, her neck is exposed for him to mark, and he takes advantage of the opportunity as soon as it presents itself. His lips brush against Patrick's fingers a few times as he kisses her fervently, sucking hard on the delicate skin that has already been bruised by his dear friend.

"You're beautiful," Art whispers into her neck between kisses. "So, so beautiful."

Taking it slow for her sake, Patrick has to force himself into her inch by inch, stretching her little cunt to take far more than she's accustomed to. But, as hard as it is, it works. After another few moments of him pushing in and pausing to let her adjust, he finally bottoms out with his cock flush against Art's. Her walls clamp down around them tightly. They both share a nervous look at this, wondering if they'll manage to last longer than thirty seconds if it already feels this good.

Slowly, she raises her head from where it slumped against Patrick's shoulder and meets Art's intense stare with one of her own. His hand raises to cup the side of her face, his fingers grazing against Patrick's, and he brushes his thumb over her kiss-swollen bottom lip. Every breath taken between the three of them is labored.

Pulling her lip down with his thumb, he asks, "Feeling okay?"

A half-second later, Patrick chimes in.

"If it's too much, you have to tell us."

Not a question, not a request, but a demand. The way he said it left no room for debate, so she nods in compliance and responds with an eagerness that neither man can miss, "M'fine, please, just fuck me..."

Patrick does not need to be told twice.

Having been sidelined for too long and forced to watch them fuck without him, he pulls out slowly, then cants his hips back against her ass with a force that takes her breath away. Amidst this, Art cannot do anything but let his face fall forward into her chest and whine in ecstasy. Just the movement of Patrick's cock rubbing against his with every thrust renders him useless. He knew it would feel better than any sex he'd had before, but this...He'll likely spend the rest of his life chasing the hedonism they are experiencing tonight.

One of her arms reaches behind her to grab Patrick's hip and dig her nails in hard while the other closes around Art's neck to pull both of them as close as can be. And now that he has forced himself back from the edge of a premature release, Art begins to move too, searching for a rhythm that feels right. Soon enough, he manages to find it. Both of their heads lift to look at each other, faces inches apart with their chins pressing on her shoulder, and they work with the same synchronicity they had while eating her out not even fifteen minutes ago.

She turns her head to the side to watch their stare-down as they rut into her like feral animals—utterly insatiable and overcome by their baser instincts. And it's only now that it occurs to her that, underneath it all, they want each other as desperately and pathetically as they want her. Patrick's gaze relentlessly bounces back and forth between Art's eyes and lips, and it makes her smirk to herself. The pleasure of fucking her as one, their pulsing cocks rubbing together in the warm walls of her cunt, has lowered their inhibitions, and the idea of being intimate with one another isn't as daunting as it would be if they were fully aware.

Leaning in to brush her cherry-flavored lips against Art's ear, she whispers, "I want you to kiss him."

The arm looped around the back of his neck pulls tighter in encouragement, bringing his body so close to hers that she can feel his ribs expanding with every breath. His only reaction to her request is a quick glance at her face once she pulls away from his ear with a sensuous lick as a parting gift. It's almost as though he doesn't believe what she's saying, but the reassuring expression she wears tells him that it is real. She truly wants him to see him kiss his best friend, not only for their enjoyment but hers as well.

One second, he's looking at her, and the next, he's slotting his lips against Patrick's with a passion previously only reserved for her. Their hands both grapple for purchase on her sweat-slick body, Art aggressively kneading her breasts and Patrick squeezing her hips for dear life, as they moan into each other's mouths.

As they kiss each other hungrily, Y/N has nothing left to do but bask in the tension swelling inside of her. There's something about how wrong this situation feels to her that makes it so much more arousing. Girls are always raised with the idea that promiscuity lessens their value, and she was not an exception. Having been raised in a family of devout believers, she hadn't kissed a boy until she was seventeen years old. The next person she kissed was Art, and in the time since their first kiss, he has thoroughly corrupted her.

And even as distracted as he is by the all-consuming, wet kiss he's engaged in, Art feels her cunt start to squeeze around their cocks and immediately drops one of the hands on her breasts between her splayed thighs. His finger rubs in tight circles on her clit in hopes that she will reach her end before he and Patrick come pathetically soon.

Her body jerks where it's trapped between them when his fingers make contact, pulling their focus away from each other for the first time since their lips touched. Patrick reaches up to hold her neck in one hand and forces her face to the side so both of them can look at every subtle expression she makes.

"Don't stop," she pleads, eyes glazed over. "M'so close, Art"—Every merciless thrust elicits a high-pitched whine from her—"Patrick, please!"

The body trapped between them has gone boneless and twitchy, utterly useless at holding herself up or aiding them in any way. But they wear it like a badge of honor. With her face falling forward into Art's neck, she loses her grasp on all that is around her and lets them prop her up to fuck her like a toy existing solely for their gratification.

With one hand cradling the back of her head and the other between her thighs, still dutifully rubbing her clit, Art asks under his breath, "Isn't she fucking perfect?"

Although it was a question meant for Patrick, she can't help how she moans and clenches her walls around them when she hears it. Panting breaths from the three of them flood the sweltering dorm room, but they are too far gone to notice or care how much sweat drips off of their bodies onto one another. It's almost hard to get a firm grip on her as a result of it, but they manage to keep her in place by smushing their bodies as close as physically possible on both sides of her.

Patrick bucks his hips up into her with a recklessness that gives away how close he is to his climax.

He says, "Oh, God, yeah." The hand still collaring her delicate neck squeezes just enough to take her breath away for a second. However, once he released his hold on her, that hand moved to wrap itself up the roots of her hair. "Best pussy I've ever had. So fucking tight, it's like she wants us to come inside her." A pause, then, "Is that what you want?"

A second passes of silence from her, and he sharply tugs back on her hair until her face is no longer hidden in Art's neck. This allows them to drink in the sight of her—face twisted up in pleasure and mouth gaping open.

He asks again, "Is that what you want?"

Her response is immediate.

"Yes, yes, yes," she murmurs incoherently and takes quick turns to look between their faces. If the expressions they wear are any indication, it won't be long before her wish is fulfilled. "I'm—mmm-gonna come! I need you to fill me up, please, please!"

To this, Art rubs her clit faster while maintaining eye contact with her and finally lets go of whatever remaining scraps of self-control he has left. Knowing how close she is pushes them closer themselves, and they start to pound her hard. Hard enough that even they, as soon-to-be professional athletes, have difficulty sustaining this intense degree of exertion.

The arm that she looped around his shoulders is still there, but now her hand is sliding down from the back of Art's neck to explore the toned musculature of his upper back. Under her searching palm, she can feel his muscles contracting and relaxing beneath his pale skin.

To both her and Art's surprise, the world begins to shift in their peripheral vision until he falls flat against the mattress on his back with his length still sheathed inside of her. It takes a second for their brains to catch up with what happened and deem Patrick responsible for the position change. He laid his hands flat on her back and pushed with just the right amount of force to pin Art to the mattress beneath them.

Art says, breathless, "I can feel you squeezing us, baby, just let go."

Hearing those words sets fire to her blood, and that, paired with the toe-curling sensation of them pressing deep inside of her, hitting that spot over and over and over, is what tips her over the edge.

Patrick keeps pulling on her hair to force her head up so that they can feel and watch her come, and what a beautiful sight it is. Art, the lucky bastard, is face to face with her as she tenses up with the onslaught of her climax. But he can see the side of her pretty, flushed face and drink up every little sound she makes, so he doesn't feel left out in any way. No, he is experiencing this right beside Art. They're both trapped inside of her, pumping into her throbbing heat and letting themselves be swept away into oblivion by the feeling of her coming undone.

She digs her nails into Art's skin hard enough to hurt as she whines and writhes between them with each pulse of pleasure that runs through her, and it isn't until she's starting to come down, riding out the high, that she feels them spill into her at the same time. Every sensation attached to it prolongs her orgasm—the throbbing, the spreading warmth, and the dying undulations of their hips that grind their cocks together within her. And beyond the physicality of the act, just knowing that they're filling her to the brim with their come makes her head spin from how fucking hot she finds it.

It isn't long before their thrusts slow into a sensuous grinding as they come down from it together, then come to a full stop to keep from overstimulating themselves. They both are starting to go soft, panting and leaning against her limp body in exhaustion, and know they wouldn't be able to continue even if they wanted to.

Her head is laid on Art’s shoulder with Patrick’s nose nuzzling her neck. There's nothing they can do except remain still and try to recover from the euphoria that has rendered them useless, so that is precisely what they do. With their bodies nearly melting together from the heat, the three of them hold onto each other for support until they manage to return to full consciousness after what they went through.

It isn't until another couple of moments have elapsed that Patrick and Art start murmuring to one another while she remains slumped between them. A second later, both pairs of hands are squeezing her hips; lifting her off of their softening cocks, slowly, gently, and minding her sensitivity.

The three of them collapse side by side on the twin bed, bodies squeezed together like sardines, and she finally comes back down from the clouds her head floated into at the feeling of them touching her. It isn't sexual. No, they wouldn't dream of putting her through anything more than she could handle right now. Both touches are tender and featherlight—Art's hand molds over her breast simply to cup it as they cuddle while Patrick brings her hand up from her side to brush a kiss over her knuckles.

The silence continues to stretch on, then—

"We're definitely gonna have to do that again," she says, turning her head to look at each of them before laying her cheek against Art's shoulder. "That is, if don't mind sharing me."

His gaze softens, the hand cupping her breast ghosting up over her skin until it finds her and Patrick's entwined hands.

"I don't mind one bit."

Thank you for reading this! I probably won’t write any more Challengers fics but I saw the movie like five times in theaters and needed to crank this out to satisfy the part of me that is obsessed with the hotel scene. I would really appreciate a comment to let me know what you thought if you’re open to that 🫶🏻 The oral part of this fic was inspired by these two (1) (2) I read, so def give them a read cause they're great!

#fanfiction #art donaldson smut #patrick zweig smut #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #no editing other than grammarly cause idgaf #art donaldson x patrick zweig x reader #challengers #listened to white mustang by lana the whole time 😩#and uncle ace cause duh

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smutoperator · 1 day

Text

Art of Escape

Kim Minjeong (Winter), Fukutomi Tsuki x Male Reader

Tags: ahegao, boat sex, creampie, cum licking, doggystyle, dream girlfriend, facial, kissing-and-fucking, (a little) lesbian, mating press, passionate sex, (lots of) oral sex, prone bone, public sex, pussy eating, riding, threesome, voyeurism

Word count: 5155.

Hyundai Yacht Seoul Club, May 9th, 2024

It was just a regular morning for a rich dude like you, anchoring your boat at the Hyundai Yacht Club, completely unaware it was about to host an event for a major brand. As you got there, a blonde girl caught your attention.

Once the event was finished, you approached her. "What's your name?" you asked. "I'm Winter," she said. "Are you sure? Because you're hotter than summer," you told her. "You're not the first to tell me this," she said.

Your first attempt seemed to have backfired, but Winter quickly opened herself up. She was very cute and witty, and you two were quickly talking a lot. After a while, you made an invitation to her.

"Want to ride on my boat?" you asked Winter. "Oh, I would love it," she told you. You detached the boat from the pier and set sail on the river, quickly leaving your boat on autopilot to spend time with Winter on the yacht's main deck. You two had just known each other but were already hugging and kissing like longtime lovers.

"It's so beautiful in here," Winter said about the view. "But is it more beautiful than you?" you asked her, making Winter blush. Her pale skin turning red made her look even prettier. Little did you know, she was about to get much bolder.

"Can I take your pants off?" She asked you, who at first hesitated. "Nobody will see it," she said. Indeed, after the yacht had set sail, you two were just a pair of dots that could barely be seen from the river's banks.

"Let me suck that cock," Winter said to you. Who didn't know such a cute girl could be this naughty? Getting a public blowjob wasn't a fantasy you had on the top of your list, but surely it was quickly rising up your rankings as Winter slowly wrapped her lips around your shaft, kissing and licking it while slowly bobbing her head down it. Her very calm pace of sucking your dick made every licking she gave it even better, as she took her time to run her mouth all over your length.

"I love your taste," Winter said as she kissed your tip. You just gave her free reign, amazed at her great cocksucking skills. Her cute smile contrasted with her sexy tongue, which was making killer moves on your pecker. "Oh, my love, you're so good at that," you told her. "Because I want to have it all," Winter replied.

Winter continued to suck your cock in the middle of the river, not caring about the surroundings. As a matter of fact, if a boat spotted both of you, even better. The cute girl turned into a naughty slut when no one was looking. Her mouth was full of cock, just the way she liked it. But little did she know she had company alongside her on the yacht itself.

"You seem to be enjoying it, Minjeong unnie," Tsuki said out of nowhere. She had followed Winter and you to the boat and was watching her sucking your cock for a couple minutes. "Who is she? Also, Minjeong? Didn't you tell me your name was Winter?" you asked. At the event in the yacht club, you were so focused on Winter that you forgot there was another girl beside her at the event.

"Her name is Tsuki; she was at the Polo event with me. And yeah, my real name is Minjeong; Winter is just the stage name." Winter explained. "So, are you a model? Actress?" you tried to guess. "Well, not quite; we are singers," she continued. "I wish I had seen her there, because she's very cute as well," you told Winter. "So, Tsuki, do you want to join us?" you asked back.

"You didn't even have to ask," Tsuki replied. "Come here and try it," Winter said to her. "Wow!" Tsuki was impressed by the size of your cock. "She's good, isn't she?" Winter asked you. "Very good," you replied.

But more than Tsuki's abilities to suck cock, what impressed you the most were her facial expressions while doing so. They were a treat on their own. The way she rolled her eyes and moved her facial muscles with your cock in her throat was something else. You weren't aware it was what made her famous in the first place, so it was fairly new to you to see a girl sucking cock while making such crazy expressions.

Tsuki, let Winter have your cock again. Even without it in her mouth, she kept doing her crazy moves, especially while licking your shaft to the side. Her and Winter shared a kiss with your tip right in the middle of it, making you go crazy. "That's such a dream," you told them.

After a couple more minutes of cock-sucking, Winter and Tsuki stripped themselves naked and started kissing each other. You watched them before you took your clothes off yourself. "You like that?" Winter asked as Tsuki gave her a big smile. The two kept the kissing going, with Winter now moving her mouth all over Tsuki's neck, which made the Japanese girl pull off another hot facial expression.

"She's so tall and pretty." Winter praised Tsuki's visuals as she now kissed her bare tits. "So beautiful," she said, massaging Tsuki's boobs further, a move she was very well-versed at after doing it so often to Karina in Aespa's dorm rooms.

"I'm getting so horny massaging her tits," Winter tells you. "Me too," Tsuki says right after. "Me too," you say, but it takes too long, as the girls are back into kissing each other under your watch.

You soon join the fun, surprising Tsuki from behind as you run your hands into her body. "Ready to share her?" Winter asks you before commanding Tsuki to lay down on her back.

Tsuki spreads her legs and lies down, showing off the fat outer lips on her pussy. "Such a pretty pussy," Winter tells you as she bends over. "I wanna taste it," she says, diving down the Japanese girl's folds. Tsuki rolls her eyes and keeps doing her facial expression show. "Let's try it together," Winter kisses you as you take your first dibs into Tsuki's clit.

Winter moves into kissing Tsuki's thighs, letting you take care of her pussy by yourself. Tsuki starts to moan as she now looks like an anime character with their eyes closed. But things get even hotter as a trio of lips now share a kiss: yours, Winter's, and Tsuki's pussy.

You and Winter move your tongues together along Tsuki's folds, paying special attention to her clit. Tsuki just moans as both of you move your tongues up and down her folds, blowing the air from your noses into her insides. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would be kissing such a beautiful girl while licking another's cunt at the same time. This feels like heaven on Earth.

Winter and you trade blows eating Tsuki's pussy. It turns out Winter's oral skills aren't just applicable to cocks; she really knows how to eat a pussy well, feasting all over Tsuki's meaty folds, making them throb and pulse each time she licks them. Winter does it so well that you make sure to kiss her as soon as she is done, trying to taste as much as you can of Tsuki's pussy flavor in her mouth.

Minjeong spreads Tsuki's pussy lips further for you to tongue the Japanese girl even deeper. You two keep teaming up as Tsuki's moans grow louder. "Wow, I've never had my pussy eaten like this before," Tsuki says. Winter is clearly the star of the show; her kissing and tonguing of Tsuki's pussy are otherworldly and drive the Japanese girl wild.

"I think he wants some attention too," Winter says, letting Tsuki stand up to kiss you. Minjeong is truly selfless, putting her partner's pleasure over hers. Tsuki and her team up on your cock once again, but Winter goes straight to your balls, letting Tsuki take your shaft all by herself. Groans come out of your mouth as they prove to be a killer combo, with Winter even trying to match Tsuki's ahegao antics while engulfing your testicles.

"Fuck," you curse for the first time as Tsuki deepthroats you and gives you a big smile, bobbing her head without needing to use her hands to work on your shaft. Down low, Winter is just amazing, heating up your balls perfectly while letting Tsuki lick your shaft like an ice cream.

"I want it too," Winter says in a rare selfish act, snatching your cock away from Tsuki. I can't blame her. That shaft is just too big not to get a good taste of Minjeong's sexy mouth. Winter is really horny, her nipples already fully erected as she fulfills her public sex fantasies staring at the amazing views from the Han River.

Winter clearly brings some extra heat compared to the first time sucking your cock. Tsuki smiles as she watches Minjeong go full slutty for your big dick, kissing you while massaging your balls. Winter stays focused, showing off how well she has perfected the art of oral sex. On and off the stage, Winter is a real ace.

"Wow, she's so hungry," Tsuki says as she takes another turn on your cock. Winter doesn't rest, though, going right back towards more ball-licking. "Oh my God, you two are killing me," you tell them. "Glad you like it," Winter says.

You passionately kiss Winter's cock-flavored mouth. She truly feels like a girl who's from another universe, sent by some mystical creature that wanted to bless you. It doesn't hurt that she has a hot, sexy friend as well.

"Let's take it together," Winter says as Tsuki and her team up to lick your shaft. The girls get their mouths close to each other and lick your snake like a pair of snakes poisoning their prey. Tsuki moves down to your balls while Winter keeps licking that hard pole. Even the birds want to watch them work on your cock as a few land on your yacht, just as the two beautiful girls increase their pace of sucking.

"Suck that cock," Winter tells Tsuki using a soft voice, pushing the Japanese girl's head down that dick before doing it herself. The two keep taking turns getting your cock covered in spit. Until Minjeong finally tells her next move.

"I want it inside me," Winter says to you. "Ohhh, you're really horny today, unnie," Tsuki says right after. "Come to me," you tell Winter, putting her head on Tsuki's belly, who assists you by inserting your cock right at Winter's pussy.

You groan the moment you get inside Minjeong. Her walls are ultra tight and squeeze you right from the beginning. You slowly push it up as Tsuki fingers Winter's pussy. "Get deeper inside me," Winter demands. "Let me see that big cock penetrating my pussy," she continues.

"Put it all in. Fuck me," Winter says. She's so cute giving you those commands; her nipples are fully hard as Tsuki rubs her hands on them. You two quickly develop great chemistry as you passionately fuck Minjeong, as she sexily moans every time your cock bulges under her skinny belly.

"It feels so good," Winter moans as you get deeper inside her tight pussy, picking up the pace as you share kisses with Tsuki before moving down to kiss Winter herself. "I love your cock," Minjeong tells you, who never thought missionary fucking could be this hot.

"I want more; take it deep in my pussy," Winter cutely commands. You happily oblige, as if you were using the keys to open the gates of heaven every time you stretch her out. The clapping noises emanate from her body as you fuck her faster and harder.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," Winter keeps moaning as you go even deeper. "Yes, fuck me," she moans again as Tsuki rubs her. You get addicted to her pussy. "You like it?" you ask her. "Yes, I love it so much," Minjeong replies. Everything about her is so genuine.

"Fuck that pussy, ahhhhh," Winter demands. You are amazed at how cute she still looks, even with that long cock deep in her cunt. Winter becomes fully submissive to your cock as you now pound her in a mating press. "Ahhhh, such a big, big cock," she says, emphasizing your size.

"Ahhh, make my pussy cream," Winter orders to you. Her juices can be seen at your shaft every time you pump out of her hole. You take her balls deep as she praises your cock every time you hit it in her cunt. "Ahhhh, you're so deep inside me," she continues.

"Keep going, all the way in," Winter says. You fuck her harder than ever. "Yeah, yeah, just stretch that pussy," she continues. You can't focus on anything except pounding it. Tsuki becomes just an afterthought in the background as your eyes are all on Minjeong. And more than your eyes, your cock is hyperfocused on destroying her tight pink pussy.

Winter's walls squeeze your cock just as you kiss her beautiful lips. You can't resist anymore, and you paint her insides white. It feels like you fucked her for over an hour, but you could barely last for five minutes inside her tight pussy.

But Minjeong isn't done. "I want to cum all over that cock," she tells you, making you put your cock back in her cream-filled pussy and quickly regain your erection. "Make me cum, baby," Winter tells you, who slowly fucks her pussy as a mix of cum and juices coats your shaft, with Winter getting closer to orgasm as Tsuki rubs her perky little tits and kisses Minjeong's moaning mouth.

"Faster, baby," Winter says as her voice gets more and more out of breath. She fingers herself and starts cumming nonstop as you kiss her while burying your big cock deep in her pussy. The warmth of her wet insides filled with your cum is such an amazing feeling that you make sure to enjoy every second of it.

"And now me?" Tsuki asks as you finally pull out of Winter. "My friend can't wait," Minjeong comments. "I'm very horny, just like you," Tsuki says. "Then come here," you tell her, after giving Winter's pussy a final kiss.

Tsuki gets on all fours as you and Winter rub your hands over her body, paying special attention to her cute butt. "Put your dick inside me; I need it," she says. After a little tease, you grant her wish, with just the feeling of your tip inside her cunt making Tsuki moan.

You and Winter share kisses as you slowly thrust inside Tsuki's pussy. Once again, Tsuki pulls off an incredible show with her facial expressions. But Winter's smile as you fuck her friend is just as good. You let Winter have a taste of your cock, now mixed with her juices and Tsuki's. Winter savors it for a good 30 seconds before putting your shaft back inside Tsuki.

Tsuki closes her eyes and moans even harder as Winter puts her tongue in the Japanese girl's asshole. "Fuck my pussy and eat my ass out, ahhhh" is all Tsuki can say in between more and more moans. "You like it?" Winter asks Tsuki. "Yes," she replies, struggling to even say those simple words as you put extra heat in her pussy.

Winter lays down in front of Tsuki, letting her friend finger her perfect pink pussy. "Come here, baby," Tsuki tells her, pushing Winter's body further close as she dives into Minjeong's pussy. Just as she does it, you pick up the pace much further. Tsuki smiles as your cock makes her pussy cream and her mouth makes Winter's do the same.

"That's so fucking good," Tsuki says as you pump her pussy harder and make her tits jiggle. "You look so pretty getting fucked like this," Winter tells her. She buries her face in Winter's pussy even further in response. "Hmmm, you like that big cock inside that pussy, don't you?" Winter asks. Tsuki answers positively, but it gets muffled by her mouth being all over Minjeong's folds.

"She's such a good girl, being the perfect sleeve for that cock," Winter says about Tsuki to you. "Ahhh, fuck," Tsuki moans as Minjeong does it. You rub your hands all over Tsuki's ass, giving it a little tap. "You like to be slapped?" you ask her. "Hmmmm," Tsuki says.

"Make her pussy cream; slap her hard," Winter orders you, who obviously follow. Tsuki's pale skin is built to get slapped; you love how quickly her ass turns heads. "Ouch!" she screams as you tap her sensitive and cute ass. Winter and her share kisses as you pound Tsuki hard and deep.

"I've never done something like this before," Winter tells Tsuki as she massages her tits. "Me too," Tsuki says, already out of breath as you keep fucking her. "Show her who's in control; get on top of her," Winter orders you, ready to get much spicier.

You mount on top of Tsuki while your cock is still deep in her pussy. "Oh, fuck," Tsuki says as she's about to get turned into a submissive cocksleeve. You and Winter kiss each other as she enjoys watching Tsuki get plowed. But no one enjoys it more than the Japanese fucktoy, who smiles and makes a lot of naughty faces as you manhandle her cunt.

"YEAH. OH. OH. OH. OH." Tsuki moans. "Fuck her like she's your bitch," Winter keeps demanding. You hammer Tsuki like a bull while staring at Minjeong's beautiful and lustful eyes. Tsuki just closes her eyes as her pussy gets utterly destroyed. "OH MY GOD," she says as you pound her to submission, looking now at the perfect sight of her body on all fours while Winter licks her chops, wishin she was at Tsuki's place.

"Put it back; I want more," Tsuki asks when you give her a little relief. She rests her head on the boat's floor as you keep plowing her, fingering herself as she approaches her orgasm. "Yes, yes, yes," Tsuki says in a barely audible manner, her mouth fully open like the one of an onahole.

But you just can't stop fucking that juicy and tight Japanese pussy. Winter gives Tsuki's head a little kiss and then asks her, "Ready to cum?" Tsuki can't even answer as she looks at you, fucking her like a toy and wishing you could do this to her forever. "Keep going like that," she says, but her voice is so weak now that you barely hear it.

"I'm gonna cum," Tsuki whispers, but loud enough for both of you to hear. Winter loves when those words come from her mouth, making a shocked expression of her own. "Make her cum," she just says, smiling as she watches Tsuki close her eyes and open her mouth to the fullest as her pussy creams all over your cock. With it still deep inside her, you give Tsuki short but fast thursts. "HMMM. HMMM. HMMM. HMMM. HMMMM," she moans, reaching her orgasm with your cock hitting all the way into her cervix.

"Oh God," Tsuki says with a big smile on her face as she stares at you. But Winter is quick to give you another kiss as you slow down until you pull out of Tsuki. "Come here to taste it." You stand up and tell both girls as they get on their knees, ready to worship that cock. Winter arrives first on the scene. "Let me taste your pussy," she tells Tsuki, sucking your big cock without using her hands. Tsuki then follows suit as the two sloppily bob their heads on your prick before placing it in between their mouths.

"Stay like this," you tell the girls, who smile at each other. Winter is the happiest one, as she looks behind and sees you getting ready to take her pussy again, this time from behind. You line your cock up against her entrance so perfectly that you don't even need to use your hands to adjust. Minjeong closes her eyes as her pussy gets slowly stretched out.

"Ahhhh," Winter moans with a sexy smile on her face. You take it slow as her moans get more prolonged with each thrust you give her. "Tell me about it," Tsuki asks Minjeong. "It's... so... big," it's all she can say. But it's the truth after all, as she enjoys your nine-inch monster stretching her out in a prone-bone position. "Ok," Tsuki tells her in such a manner that you can tell she's bragging about taking it like a champion just moments ago.

Winter kisses Tsuki as your cock gets deeper and deeper inside her. You're very passionate, not wanting to hurt your beautiful lover. "Even full of dick, you still look so cute, Minjeong unnie," Tsuki says. She's telling the truth. Winter is truly capable of being the cutest girl in the world, no matter what she's doing.

Winter gets surprised when you finally commit to getting into the depths of her cunt. "Ahhhhh, ahhhhh, ahhhhh," she lets out successive moans. But you stay deep inside her as Minjeong's walls clench around your cock. "Oh, my God," she says. You don't even need to thrust inside her anymore; your meat and her cunt are perfectly interlocked now. It's like the sword in the stone myth, and whoever manages to pull you out of Minjeong will be crowned king.

"This is so good; you're so tight," you tell Winter. "I'm curious to see how your friend takes it," you continue, moving sideways to take on Tsuki next. "She's ready for you." Winter says this as you two kiss each other again.

Tsuki softly moans, as she's next in line. The slow pumps you give her already make her roll her eyes. Winter smiles as she stares at Tsuki, who's struggling to take your cock deep in her pussy. "Yesss, ahhhhh," Tsuki moans as you start clapping against her cheeks. Winter, as the dream girlfriend, gets all the kisses. Meanwhile, for the slutty Tsuki, all she gets is pounding after pounding from your hard cock.

You quickly increase the speed, brining a lot of heat into Tsuki's pussy, her body getting pressed to the floor at each thurst. Winter never thought of herself as a voyeur before, but she really enjoys watching her friend get plowed. "Ohhh, God, fuck," Tsuki says as you pin her completely to the floor, stretching your hands to grope her perky tits.

"YESSS, AHHHH, AHHHH," Tsuki moans under Winter's watchful eyes. At this point, Minjeong is licking her chops, amazed as she watches both of you engage in a torrid sex session. Tsuki is really the perfect fucktoy to pound against the floor of your boat, as she covers it with the juices leaking out from her pussy. "You're hitting her so deeply; I love it," Winter says. Tsuki can only laugh to hide how she gets increasingly sensitive and throbs harder at each new thrust you give her.

"So deep, I like that," Tsuki says as you get completely on top of her, all while sharing kisses with Winter. Her eyes roll, and her tongue sticks out as you make her cum. "That's so good, oh yeah," Tsuki says, barely able to feel her legs now. You even give her a double massage: your hands press her shoulders up top while your meat presses her cunt down low. Even after she cums, Tsuki wants more. "Go back, please," she tells you, who obliges and gives her a few extra thrusts into her throbbing vagina, kissing her and Winter when you're finally done.

"I want something from you girls now," you tell them. "One of them is riding my cock while the other sits on my face," you say. Tsuki kisses you and quickly offers the pussy you just destroyed for you to savor. Winter dives into your cock and warms it up for the ride of her life. The Japanese girl gets the early pleasure, as you are already licking her folds before Winter can even position herself to get impaled by your monster cock.

Winter starts riding your cock, and you feel blessed. The view. The girls. The sex. This day couldn't have gone more perfect for you. It feels like heaven to have two girls using your body as a way to please themselves to the fullest.

As you tongue Tsuki's pussy harder, Minjeong increases the pace of her ride. Their moans blend with each other, and you can't tell which one is getting the most pleasure. But by the way their folds gush all over your tongue and cock, you can tell they are having a lot of it. Tsuki runs her hands over Winter's pale butt as the snow girl gives you such a hot ride that it could make your cock melt. "You're working on this cock so well," Tsuki says, impressed at Minjeong's riding skills.

Winter spreads her cheeks as she lets you thrust upwards against her tight pussy. Every time you get to hit her cervix, she lets out an out-of-breath moan, and her asshole involuntarily winks. Loud noises come out as the hips of both of you clash against each other. Minjeong doesn't hold back, meeting your thursts full of enthusiasm and moaning the loudest she's done so far.

The riding keeps going on as Minjeong shows no signs of slowing down. Out of all positions, cowgirl might be her favorite. She loves the feeling of taking control and stuffing herself full of cock, and she seems to be easily winning the battle now, bouncing on your pole at full speed and enjoying when Tsuki pushes her further down and impales her to the max against your cock.

More time passes by, and Winter keeps going on with her cock-riding show. You and Tsuki basically forget about anything, taking all your focus away from watching the Queen Minjeong ride spectacle. Winter feels flaunted as all eyes are on her, giving all her effort. She is truly the living proof of the planet getting warmer than ever, because you've never seen a hotter Winter than the one on top of your cock.

Tsuki gets out of your face to take a privileged seat at Winter, making your cock melt. The Japanese girl masturbates herself as watching Minjeong get impaled proves to be a massive turn-on for her. "Ahhhhh, ahhhhh, ahhhh, Oh my God, Oh my God," Winter manages to outdo herself in cuteness once again, coming up with the softest moans you've seen. Tsuki watches all of it, all her fingers now deep in her cunt. Both she and Winter closed their eyes at the same time and even managed to say the same words together:

"I AM. CUMMING.".

Winter's legs get weaker as she rests her body on top of yours, only to be surprised by a gush of squirt coming off Tsuki's pussy. You're so addicted to her pussy you don't pull out at any moment, kissing Minjeong as her face gets within your range and giving her waist and butt a little massage. Winter finally pulls out, staring at Tsuki creaming herself, and then gives the Japanese girl the final command.

"Finish him," Winter tells her, getting your cock wet for one final round of pussy pounding. Her heavenly mouth almost makes Minjeong fulfill her own command by herself, as you have to pinch yourself not to cum. Tsuki saves you at the last second, offering you her tits and mouth for you to kiss.

Tsuki gets a taste of your cock before she sits on it. Doing so in reverse cowgirl, she tells who the audience of her cock-riding show will be: she wants to do it looking at Minjeong's beautiful face and show her first and foremost her best facial expressions.

Winter pushes Tsuki's hair down to get a better view of her face as the Japanese girl finally takes a sit on your prick. Tsuki rides it as Winter stares at her stretched-out pussy. You two put on a great show for Minjeong to watch as Tsuki runs her hands all over your shaft while bouncing on it. Winter stays with one hand fully attached to her pussy, the other rubbing your thighs to get you even closer to the edge.

You grab Tsuki's waist, trying to tame her, but she barely flinches. Fully committed to the mission Winter gave her, she rides you even harder, massaging your balls to add some extra spice. Winter aides her, licking her chops as she sees some sticky liquids straight out of Tsuki's cunt coating your shaft.

"Fuck him hard, make him cum," Winter keeps ordering as Tsuki gets your cock inside her all the way down to your balls. You start losing control and plow upwards against her pussy, making splashy noises when you hit her deep, as her cunt is extremely wet now. Tsuki opens her mouth to the fullest every time you hit her cervix, her ahegao getting crazier the more cock she takes.

Tsuki turns into a moaning mess as you two fuck like crazy animals. Winter can't believe what she's seeing, making shocked expressions as she watches you stuff Tsuki's cunt. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM," Tsuki says as her legs close and she starts orgasming, expelling your cock out of her pussy. "Put it back, put it back," she demands, her voice completely lost at this point. Tsuki masturbates herself as she creams all over your cock.

"Wow, that's beautiful," Winter says as Tsuki opens her legs back up. Minjeong places her hand over her lips and licks her chops as the intense pounding gets replaced by a passionate fucking, with Tsuki making one final wish.

"I want to see your cum covering all of my face," she tells you. As soon as you pull out, you start jerking off to Winter and Tsuki faces side by side. It doesn't take long before blasts of semen come out of your dick and paint Tsuki's face white as she sticks her tongue out in glee after you grant her wish.

Winter quickly comes up and licks the cum from Tsuki's face as the two swap it in their mouths in front of you. "Thanks; that was amazing," Minjeong kindly says. "I can't wait to rock your boat again," Tsuki completes.

The girls get dressed as you bring them back to where it all started. As they leave your boat at the yacht club, it seems like another typical fashion event for the brand they were endorsing.

But the truth is, in that day, Kim Minjeong and Fukutomi Tsuki mastered the art of escape.

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

I'd like to give a shoutout to @haiabd as they wrote a very similarly themed smut also featuring Winter and that boat event from last month. We went with slightly different focuses and partners (I picked Tsuki, they picked Chaewon, their smut features anal, mine doesn't). But every time something like this happens, I mention the other author. In the end, I wholeheartedly agree with them when they started their story saying: "These Winter pics are so good so I had to write about them", so I did the same.

#winter smut #tsuki smut #aespa smut #billie smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

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captainfern · 2 days

Note

hellos!! i’ve been missing ghost :( maybe this boring but i just need some nice soft smut w him! maybe sprinkle in a breeding kink if you feel so inclined.. love you fern ❤️

requesting a breeding kink ?? ily more !!

18+, fem!reader, hashtag balls deep and breeding babyyyyy (sorry)

the weight of simon on top of you was always something you loved. to feel the sheer mass of him press down against you, to have the soft ridges of his belly and chest against your own, was something you cherished.

and when he was balls-deep inside the tight heat of your cunt? even better.

he had your legs spread wide, revealing the sopping core of your cunt to him in the darkness of your bedroom. you didn’t know what time it was, nor did you care— you woke up in the middle of the night, horny as fuck, and needed your husband’s cock. right then and there.

and he was more than happy to do so.

he had sunk into you with a guttural groan, your pussy already slick with arousal. you let him in so easily, the way your gummy walls stretched to take his thick cock. he never got over the feeling. never will get over the feeling of your sopping cunt opening up for him and clutching him tight.

he buried his face into the crook of your neck when he bottomed out, grinding his hips against yours. he groaned into the soft skin of your throat at the feeling of you clenching around him. he could feel the softness of your belly and tits beneath him, his large arms caging you under him. heaven on earth.

“s’that feel good?” he asked you, nosing at the pulse below your earlobe. simon canted his hips forward, starting a pace of thrusts, the head of his cock finding that perfect spot within you in seconds. “s’that good, baby?”

“yeah,” you whined, nodding as his big body shunted you up the bed, but the weight of his body atop yours kept you anchored. he was reaching so deep inside you with this angle.

your hands rubbed up and down the wide expanse of his back, grappling at the soft muscle there. your legs kicked up and locked around his thighs, holding him impossibly closer to you as he pushed his cock in and out of you. each thrust of his cock drew wet sounds from your cunt, causing heat to ripple through your body and pleasure to settle deep in the pit of your stomach.

“simonnn,” you dragged out through a moan. the pleasure in your tummy was building, sweat accumulating between your pinned bodies.

simon grunted and groaned into your neck, lips attached to the soft skin there. he sucked and nipped between sounds of pleasure, focused on the rock of his hips against yours and the deep plunge of his cock near the plug of your cervix. his soft belly pressed to yours, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to all the possibilities. the possibilities of filling you up— getting you pregnant.

the thought made simon moan, loud and dramatic. the sound had your pussy clenching hard around his cock, arousal dribbling from where it was split open over his cock. the pleasure in your stomach twisted tighter, tingles beginning to set in the base of your spine.

“i love you so much,” simon suddenly said, picking his head from out of your neck. he looked down at you with a soft gaze. but there was infatuation in those dilated pupils. “‘m gonna get you pregnant, baby.”

you moaned, back arching off the bed, sweat gathering across your skin. you were burning up as he pushed you closer to release.

“yeah, you like that?” simon lilted, smiling down at you as his thrusts rocked the bed— and you. “‘m so deep, aren’t I? so deep in this pretty tummy. just wanna fill it up.” he added, slipping a hand between the two of you to pet your belly, but only for a few seconds.

“how’s that sound? you want me to come inside you? you want me to get you pregnant?” simon continued as your body slowly began to shudder, pleasure bubbling inside you, static bursting in your nerve endings. simon leaned down and kissed you. “yeah, i know, baby. i’ll come inside you and stuff your pretty tummy full.”

“simon, fuck, m’gonna come—” you mewled, clutching on to him in the fear that your orgasm would make you lose your hold on him.

simon kissed you again. “you can come for me, baby. then ‘m gonna come deep inside this pussy and make you a mama.”

you came with an explosion of stars behind your eyelids. your body jolted and shuddered beneath his, orgasm wracking through you. your cunt pulled tight around the thick of simon’s cock, gushing with each twitch of your legs. you moaned and whined, whimpering his name as he fucked you through the entire thing.

“make you a mama…” simon repeated in some kind of delirious whisper, before he was grasping and moaning out your name, desperately and with a rasp to the syllables. he stuffed himself to the root inside you and came up against the base of your cervix, moaning the entire time.

you felt the warmth fill you, your body hot and sweaty. as his cock emptied inside of you, twitching with the last of it, simon kissed you gently, smoothing his lips against yours.

“i meant it, you know,” he said quietly, cock slowly starting to soften inside you.

“what?” you smiled. “that you’ll get me pregnant?”

simon chuckled and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. “no, not that. i mean, that’s true, but that’s not what i meant.”

“no?”

“no,” he said, kissing you again. “i meant it when i said i love you.”

you smiled against his lips. “i know. i love you too.”

#if someone threatened me with pregnancy rn in irl i would scream #but in cod fanfic ?? babe whisper that shit in my ear and hit it raw wtf #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #ghost x female reader #ghost smut #cod ghost #ghost x reader #cod smut #call of duty smut #call of duty #captainfern #captainfernsalutes

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hotpotatopotat · 2 days

Text

Why I don't think Shigaraki or his legacy is over.

I don't normally do canon delves but I am compelled as a Tomura fan to dissect the final battle. This isn't a post on whether it's good or bad, but observations on what's been told.

Shigaraki's crux has always been that he feels like no one can possibly understand what he is trying to accomplish, that his message and suffering is pushed under the rug, and that society is so rotten there's nothing to be done. Deku's goal is to try and understand this.

When Deku breaks through in mha417, Tomura challenges him on this. What would even change if you saw what happened to me? What would you even DO about it? Deku declares to the one person that needs it most: To reach out and give you peace, and "that is why...I am here"

But... When given the chance to go back to a time when he was happy, Tenko chooses not to. "Nah." he says. I think this is often overlooked, but Tomura didn't WANT to leave behind everything he's done.

Tomura says, even if you got rid of my hatred, even if you succeed in "saving me", it doesn't change the fact that I still believe in the future I'm fighting for, to destroy. The villains need a hero, the suffering needs to end, and things need to change.

Hang on to that for a moment. All for One shows up. He mocks him, his dream, his goals, claiming that they weren't real, that they weren't his, that his heart doesn't matter, that none of it does. He's evil.

All for One does kill Tomura here... or at least he would have....

With Deku's final blow, he ignites any remaining embers, Shigaraki, included. They land the final blow to All for One. Without that spark, and without Nana having saved Tomura from fading away, he wouldn't have been able to do this. Tomura would have died before.

Tomura's vestige is still decaying away, and he laments the fact that maybe...he wasn't more than the crying kid Deku said he was. He couldn't do anything. He didn't even destroy Deku's hands. His dreams are over.

Izuku says that he wanted to stop the cycle of grief and suffering. Tomura gives him a soft "hah..." This is such a cathartic moment for them, because I believe that Tomura finally feels understood. He's actually quite relieved.

Strangely, Tomura is soft here. He's not decaying away anymore, he's solid, he's wearing his old shirt. He's NOT the same. He declares how he wants to be remembered, as the one who never stopped fighting to change the world. Izuku says, it's already been...but...

In mha424, Tomura instantly challenges this. With a giant smirk, he tells Deku that he better do his damn best to make sure that things change. It depends on the choices that he continues to make, not the conclusion of one battle.

424 feels like a giant wink wink nudge nudge for the reader. Deku is dissatisfied with not getting that instant gratification of "saving" Tenko, just like after a final battle, he won't get the instant gratification of changing the world. We don't get the gratification either.

But honestly, I really do believe that Deku will carry on Shigaraki's legacy and internalize it just like All Might's.

One final thing... You see his hair change textures. Left to right, It's decaying like in the final form, it's defined and stringy like in his early days, and it's airy and blocked like in his liberation days. This is such guardian angel energy, I swear.

I don't think this is the last we will see of him. And if it is, at least physically the last we see of him, I'm happy Deku will carry on what was truly in Tomura's heart.

#mha #bnha #hotpotatopotat #my hero academia #mha 424 #deku #izuku mydoria #tomura shigaraki #tenko shimura #shigaraki #izuku midoriya #tenko #mha analysis #mha424 #mha423

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princesspiastri · 2 days

Text

First Time for Everything

Social Media AU

Pairing: Reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Summary: You go to your first Grand Prix ever, saving up every penny, just to be noticed by VCARB’s Marketing team and you’re invited to meet the drivers.

A/N: Hi so this is literally the first time I've done something like this so be kind <3 this was so much harder than I thought it would be lol

yn_yln

liked by yrbffuser, f1girlsclub and 50 others

yn/yln Every hour of overtime and cup of coffee ignored was so worth this!

yrbffuser newest wag alert !!!!!!

yn_yln omg stop 🥹

f1girlsclub Have fun at your first GP!

yn_yln

liked by yrbffuser, dannyric3fanpage and 200 others

yn/yln I looked so so bad after the race but omg I'm living my best life couldn't believe I got to hang out in @/visacashapprb's paddock for the race!!! I am so so honored 🤩

yrbffuser literally an influencer, you better invite me next time

yn_yln come to my next gp with me, we'll get lucky😉

visacashapprb Glad we could make your first race a great one!

yn_yln

liked by yrbffuser, f1gossipaccount and 1000 others

yn_yln *cue Will Smith* I'm going to Miami

yrbffuser are you gonna credit me for my photo orrrrrr

yn_yln I figured everyone already knows ur my personal photographer 😂🩷

dannyricfan3 your def going to the race

f1wagpage is it true you're dating daniel?????

daniel3.jpg

liked by yn_yln, dannyricfanpage and 200,000 others

daniel3.jpg late nights in MIA

yn_yln soft launch? 🥹

daniel3.jpg what does that even mean

lily_foster4736 daniel is off the market, crying and throwing up

mia.cooper ok but like how can I be her??????

dannyricfanpage so glad to see you having a good time Danny!

yn_yln

liked by danielricciardo, yrbffuser and 50,000 others

yn_yln had to teach him what a soft launch is, now I'll show him how to hard launch 🩷

danielricciardo I still don't know what that is but ok ❤️

yn_yln its a good thing you drive cars for a living 😘

yrbffuser so when are you setting me up with Lando

yn_yln @/landonorris

yrbffuser i h8 u

landonorris @/yrbffuser check ur dms

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 smau #formula one imagine #formula one social media au

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spideyhexx · 2 days

Text

where you're not Billy's (yet) and get jealous <3 mdni

Billy wasn't yours. You knew that. It helped to remind yourself that you weren't his either. You could easily find another mind to keep your company, but you could never get yourself to even try. Instead those nights, you always returned to Billy, also in his lonesome, with no other woman at his side because he would always, already be looking at you.

That's how most nights would go. You would find one another like there was a string attaching you two and you'd fall into your bed, his bed, the grass, the side of a building, honestly anywhere he can get you quick enough.

Part of you always wanted to bite the bullet. Billy's made it clear he would pursue you more than just your late-night rendezvouses but you knew who he was. The type of life he leads and you're reluctant to let that bleed into your life. Fun little relations with him did not carry the weight his love would.

It was unspoken, but Billy respected it, he took what you gave him and that was better than nothing.

So in truth, you should not have had such a visceral reaction to seeing him chat with another woman one night at the saloon. You went there specifically to seek him out, not having seen him the past week made you antsy, but the moment you stepped in, your eyes found him, leaning close to a woman who would lean up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. His smile was easy, his demeanor relaxed, the flirty kind you felt used to.

Jealousy was always a problem for you, but it's never struck you this hard. Never has it hurt like it is as you watch them together.

Against your better judgment, you left immediately, and a restless sleep made you decide to ignore the cowboy.

Billy feels the cold shoulder the very first day. He sees you in the morning just as he rides into town, "Hey, doll, wait up," he says, getting off of his horse and tying it up in a quick manner to catch up to you, but he notices you didn't stop.

He jogs over, a hand to your arm, his big, warm hand to your arm, "Doll, you hearin' good?" He chuckles a little but you don't look amused so he drops it.

"I'm busy, Billy," is all you say to him, even though it pains you to keep your emotions inside, and you walk, quicker, away.

Billy's almost too stunned to speak before he calls after you, "Hey, hey, hey, slow down I just wanted-"

"I said I'm busy," you repeat, your head turning to lock with his gaze. The last thing you catch is his shoulders slumping before you turn forward again.

The entire week Billy tries to talk to you, only to get waved off or completely ignored until he just accepts it and leaves you be. You wonder if it's better to keep him at this distance, this way you didn't fall more for him every night you spent naked with him. But the pain in ignoring him was a devil.

Especially after you hear word that he got injured. Nothing major. He was in some scuffle and all you heard was that he actually got a little beat up from it this time around compared to other times he's fought.

It made you forget your pact to ignore him, knowing how often you were the one who cleaned him up. And Billy didn't seek you out this time. Maybe you fucked up.

You try the saloon, but he's not there. Who is there though, is his friend Charlie. You're barely even thinking through your actions as you walk up to him, "Charlie?"

He turns to face you, with a small smile after realizing it's you, "What's going on?"

"Where's Billy?" You don't beat around the bush with it and you try not to sound so desperate but you're sure you do.

"Uh, I'm actually not sure. Maybe go ask George over there," Charlie nods his head at the other man and you nod, turning your mission elsewhere.

You ask the same question to George, who's also unaware of where Billy is, citing he was back at the camp they've set up a bit away from town, but he's not sure if Billy is currently there.

It feels like a complete lost cause. Maybe even feels stupider that you've asked. Without much else to do and asking around the people you knew to be friends with Billy with no luck, you make your way to a spot Billy and you would typically go to.

In the fields, a small walk from town, where you'd sit under one of the bigger trees and talk. Or fuck. Either or.

A small sliver of hope pokes at your chest that he's there, but he isn't. You let out a sigh and sat down, leaning back against the tree.

You're not sure how much time passes until the sudden sound of footsteps jolts you to your feet. Your eyes lock with Billy, his brow is furrowed, and he's almost storming towards you. It makes your chest ache with relief that he's here. It makes your chest ache with anxiety over his anger. It makes your chest ache with desire because boy was he hot when he was angry.

When he gets closer, you see the cut on his lip and the worry overtakes your emotions. You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off, his hand grabbing your jaw. His touch is firm, but not enough to hurt you. Billy tilts your head up, leaving you no room to look away from him.

His words are rushed, "You were lookin' for me? You were lookin' for me, huh?" A scoff leaves his lips after he speaks. His voice is gruff, almost demanding an answer than just curiosity. You swallow your desire.

"Well. Yeah, I was, I heard you got hurt and-"

He moves in closer, close enough that your back leans against the tree and you can smell him. The slight scent of whiskey, campfire and just him was enough to get you dizzy. It's dark, but you can see the tick in his jaw and the intake of breath he gets.

"Here I am," he says, taking his hand off your jaw and gesturing to himself, "What do you want?" There's a snap to his words and you know he's angry about your avoidance of him.

"I was trying to say I heard you got hurt and I wanted to...make sure you were okay," you get your words out slowly, your eyes never leaving his as he rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Right. So it took me gettin' hurt for you to find me?" There's pain in his tone when he says it and it makes you shake your head.

"Billy-"

"Doll, what did I do? We were fine and then suddenly you were actin' like I fucked up bad. I can't recall anythin' I could've done to deserve that from you," he says, crowding your space till the brim of his hat bumps into your head. Billy seems to get annoyed with it so he haphazardly takes it off dropping it to the ground at your feet.

"I saw you with that...woman or whatever...you...," You take a deep breath to keep yourself in check before you start speaking again, "I went to the saloon to find you and you were all up close with some girl and I just..."

When you let yourself trail off, you glance up at him and see the anger still full in his eyes.

"I wasn't...that was Manuela. Charlie's wife, doll. Can promise you, I am not gettin' sweet with her," Billy says, his brow still furrowed. It made you feel even more embarrassed that you jumped to conclusions, but could you help it? Women flocked to Billy easily. And he wasn't yours, you tell yourself again. He lets out a humorless chuckle.

"I told you I wanted you, you know?"

"I know, but-"

"I know. But I told you. And now you're jealous. You want me too?"

Billy is almost pleading with you to just say it. He knows it. But he's in desperate need of you to finally let it out. You're quiet, your head mulling it over in a frantic manner as he stares right into your soul.

He scoffs, "Darlin' stop thinkin' so hard. 've told you before. All you gotta do is tell me and I am all yours." It feels like you can't speak, your tongue is missing completely from your mouth. Billy's frustration only seems to increase as he rolls his eyes at your silence and his jaw clenches again.

His hands move to your hips, a firm grip, as he lets out a harsh breath, "What do I gotta do? Do I have to fuck it outta you?"

Your cheeks burn at that and he hears the hitch in your breath, "Billy, I-"

"That is it, huh?" He's mocking, finding humor in how heated you get over his words, his thumbs rubbing your hips over your dress. "Been missin' me these days? Got no one to look after you? Just me."

You nod, your head lurching forward enough to brush your nose to his and it almost makes him groan. "You're pissin' me off," he mumbles, like a warning, his lips almost inching to kiss yours, but he restrains himself.

"I'm sorry," you tell him, your breath lingering on him as your hands finally move to touch him, right against his chest. You swallow hard. "Don't know if I've ever felt this much," is what you're able to get out through your laboring breath. Billy takes that as enough, for now, pressing his lips hard to yours.

It's a bruising kiss. His lip was cut and he was fighting a wince, but he did not give a fuck about the pain right now. Billy was starved without you and all he can think about is taking. He pushes you back until you're more against the tree, the bark uncomfortable but that's the least of your worries. His hands pull at your hips to bring your body flush with his, slotting his leg between yours.

His one hand moves to cradle your face, mumbling to your lips, "still pissed off," and he licks his tongue along your bottom lip, nudging under your chin to tilt your head up more.

"Good," you mutter back to him before happily opening your mouth to him, tugging on the handkerchief at his neck to pull him as close as he can be.

He hums at your words, "Oh? You like me mad or somethin' doll?" Billy's hand at your hip holds you tighter, "is that why you're doin' this to me?"

You don't answer, your lips trailing along his jaw and to his neck. Your hand grasps the back of his head, pulling his head back a little to expose more of his neck, enough to find his spot that you found. That he didn't even know about until he slept with you.

As you suck at the spot, biting the skin enough to leave the start of a mark, Billy refrains from moaning, but you hear him mumble, "fuck's sake," before he's pulling back from you and taking his belt off.

"Ground?" He takes his belt off so easily it distracts you, but you nod.

"Ground," you reply, moving yourself to the grass. Billy doesn't waste a second, taking his jacket off and laying it out so you can sit on it.

He nudges you to lay back and gets on you so quick, it makes your breath run fast. "Billy," your voice is breathy, his head burying into your neck, leaving surprisingly soft kisses as he fumbles to push his pants down.

You help the best you can, then swat his hand away to fish his cock from his underwear yourself. Billy lets out a low groan when he feels your hand wrap around him. You hum, stroking the length of him once, then twice before taking him out.

"Tell me you missed this or I think I'll actually go crazy, doll," he mutters, his kisses finding your jaw.

"Now I wanna see you go crazy," you joke under your breath, but Billy isn't having any of that.

"Fuckin'...fine. That's what you want?" His hands are under your dress in an instant, and find your undergarments, the thin linen being harshly ripped from your body.

"Billy! Did you actually rip them, I-"

"Darlin' please be fuckin' quiet," he rasps, and you pull hard on his hair in his response. He laughs.

"Missed you. Pissed at you. But still want you just as fuckin' much," he whispers, giving your cheek a kiss as he hikes your legs up around him, his hips slotting to yours.

Billy's hand finds himself, guiding his dick to rub at your clit, both of you letting out shaky sighs at the feeling. His nose smushes to your cheek, eyes stuck on you to watch you react to him.

"Oh, honey," he whispers as his tip rubs through your folds, feeling just how slick you are. The head of his cock catches at your entrance and you both moan in unison again. Billy slowly pushes the tip into you, groaning over it and helping you wrap your legs tighter to him.

"There you go. Still take it good, hm?" He doesn't let you even try to answer him as he thrusts the rest of himself into you, his knees shifting in the grass to adjust his position. Billy grips your hips hard, thumbs pressing to the underside of your thighs as he begins fuck himself into you.

A moan rattles through you, your head pushing back against the ground at his immediate quick pace. You grasp at his shoulder, your other hand tangling into his hair so you can pull it whenever he fucking quips at you.

Billy grunts, his head down and teeth nipping at your jaw, "You actually listened to me. Actually stayin' quiet besides those pretty moans. Not even talkin' back," he chuckles at it and then again when you tug his hair like he thought you would.

"'M sorry," he murmurs, leaving an affectionate kiss on your jaw. For a moment, Billy buries his cock as deep as it can be inside of you, holding still to feel you tighten around him. "That's it...you missed that?"

You nod, your words not coming, but he grips your jaw, "you can speak," he says, his hips snapping to yours, just as desperate as his kisses were before.

"I did miss it, Billy....so, so, so much."

That spurs him on as he opens your mouth with a push of his fingers at your cheeks, your eyes dazed and tongue sticking out a little like routine. Billy slows his thrusts as he spits down onto your tongue.

Before you can close your mouth, his lips and tongue are finding yours, a strangled moan leaving him and melting back into you. Billy's one hand still at your hip moves under you to wrap around, giving your body a slight angle as he fucks harder, his rhythm starting to break.

His kiss is sloppy, as is yours back, tongues a mess of massaging to one another, his teeth biting to your lip, noises tumbling from you both. He breaks the kiss to nuzzle his nose to your cheek, "please tell me you didn't fuck someone else while you were angry at me," he suddenly says, his eyes closed like he's anticipating the worse.

"I didn't," you whisper back to him, "I promise you," you assure him again, your hand rubbing through his hair.

"I didn't touch anyone," he tells you, "nothing," he pauses, giving your cheek the lightest kiss as he changes his movements, slowing down, sliding his cock out of you slowly, but pushing back in hard, his hand moving from your jaw to slip between your legs and thumb at your clit, "Just tell me."

A whimper leaves your lips when you feel his thumb, your hips bucking up, which only makes him want to fuck you faster again, but he holds back. You know what he means the moment he says to tell him and you turn your head head to nose back at him.

"I want you," you breathe out and you feel him let out a breath, his lips tenderly kissing your nose.

"Can I be yours then?" He slows even more, which makes you whine. Your eyes lock to his, his face strewn with hope and deep desire, you can feel the twitch of his cock and see the flutter of his eyes.

"Yes," you whisper to him, giving him a small smile as you ruffle your handing his hair, "then I'm yours?"

He groans at your answer and question, and his hips rock faster again, needy and full of so much want, "yes, doll, you're mine," he rasps out, "and you're gonna come just for me, yeah? I know you will, Bet you wanted me to come for you all week, I'll give you it," he gets out his words quick, your fingers digging into his hair and his shoulder.

"Billy....fuck...f-faster."

He chuckles, "Jesus, doll," he gives you a crooked smile, but obliges, rubbing your clit in tight fast circles as he ruts into you, his forehead pressing to yours.

A heat overcomes you as your orgasm washes over you, Billy smiling as he watches it overtake you. The way your mouth parts and your moan borderlines a whine, the arch of your hips to his, and the spasm of your cunt against him.

He fucks into you maybe three more times before he's pulling out of you, letting out an almost guttural moan, spilling on your thigh, the slight friction of the tip against your thigh is enough to get him hard all over again, but Billy pushes those thoughts aside to move his hands back to your face and kiss you passionately through your heavy breaths.

"Still a little pissed," he mumbles and you nudge your knee into his.

"Ow," he grins into the kiss, a bigger flush coming to his face when you start laughing.

#kk gn #my full on smut writing is rusty but #so maybe this isn’t as good as I can make it BUT BUT BUT #oh dear are we back!#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid smut #billy the kid x you #billy the kid fanfiction #tom blyth #william bonney #william h bonney #william bonney x reader #william bonney smut #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney smut

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nabitsun · 1 day

Text

MEDDLE ABOUT

ellie williams x fem reader

᭝ synopsis : you need something to ring some senses to you. a good argument and some good head.

᭝ tags : angst + smut: argument !! just ellie & her inability to be diligent when she opens her mouth & reader taking questionable decisions. drug consumption .

( @ ) is referred as y/n (used only twice).

᭝ wc : 4.1 k

᭝ notes : it literally unfolded in a sequence shot in my head and i couldn't get rid of it the more i was writing so yeah. dropping this rq :c

"come here," she taps her hand lazily on the soft cushion beside her, on her right.

she's got her elbows resting on both of her knees as she's leaning over the coffee table in front of her, paper wrap flat on the surface of the table with the filter already positioned.

"what are you doing?"

"what does it look like i'm doing?" she doesn't even spare a glance your way, too concentrated on filling the paper with cannabis diligently, the product pinched between her thumb and index.

"i told you i don't like it when you smoke while i'm here."

"and i don't like it when you go on dates with random fuckers but i'm sure it doesn't stop you from keeping up the act."

you cross your arms over your chest, resisting the urge to talk back though she's got a point that you obviously can't contradict. you don't really feel like sitting down so you would get shit thrown at your face when you've come here for the exact opposite.

"c'mon it's just weed ma," she finally looks at you, "besides i started before you even called me." she shakes her head in disapproval. her voice is faint but sore, the smell in her living room is not the only thing telling you this is surely not her first joint.

you let out a long breath as you finally decides to sit down, your arms still crossed when slouch down and bring your feet up on the couch, "you either fall asleep mid convo or get handsy when you're high." you sigh.

"hm, not my fault you always come at night." she half whispers, mindlessly.

you glance at the clock hanged up on the wall behind you, it's almost eleven. you turn to face her back, bringing your elbows up on the back of the couch and resting your jaw in your palm as you look at her shimmy the joint between her fingers until it gets a cylindrical shape. you figure she went out, still dressed in her open denim shirt, leaving plenty of room to contemplate her tattoo.

"so what's up?"

you open your mouth but only air comes out of it, "i don't know,"

"you do know, you wouldn't have come here otherwise."

"are you saying i only come over to complain?" you redress your head to sit better. she doesn't look at you anyways.

"i didn't say that. i'm glad you can connect the dots though." she glides her tongue along the paper wrap meticulously and all with the same care, folds the sticky side over creating a cone that she taps vertically on the surface of the table. a routine you've also picked up just by observation.

"i went out tonight."

she stays silent, though you see her movements come to a halt when the joint stays still, you see her head raising lightly, until it drops down the same way it was originally, low with her eyes on her crafting session.

"and,"

your resting hand which was once on your jaw finds its way behind your neck, massaging your nape as you start to regret even bringing up the subject. you don't have to say it out loud, she knows you've been on a date.

"and it was just awful."

"when is it not."

she twists the end of the joint before searching blindly for a lighter on the table, that she fails to find apparently as she gets a little more frustrated, cussing under her breath. you look around yourself to find the green lighter on the couch, behind her and so naturally in front of you. you pick it up and light it on, she turns around instinctively at the sound of the friction and looks at you with low eyelids, supposedly tired or already half stoned from her previous consumption.

it's the first time of the evening she fully looks at you, however she doesn't dwell on the moment and immediately takes the joint between her lips as she cups your hand to guide the flame towards the twisted end. she's too focused on the new spark igniting the paper to notice you focused on her face, tracing every lines with your eyes, and her hair half way up in a bun at the back of her head.

"what happened," she asks, though without any will to know in her voice. she turns around to turn her back to you as she previously was sat, getting rid of the ash in the ashtray on the table.

you shrug, not knowing where to begin though there's not much to say due to how short your evening had turned out to be.

"um, he invited me over, to his place–" you notice her nodding sarcastically as she takes her first inhale, "we had some drinks and talked, it was fine at first." you flip the lighter in your hands like a toy, distracting yourself with it. ellie doesn't answer, waiting for you to continue the anticipated story,

"then he started to act really creepy, kept staring at me, filling the glass with alcohol though i told him i've had enough. he tried to move things forward, getting me to his bedroom but.. i told him i had something that came up and had to go, you know."

she scratches the back of her ear swiftly before turning to her right slowly to face you, the smoke escapes past her lips which soon grows in ponds of small clouds, then dissipates thickly into the air.

"he told me he could drive me home, and insisted about three times at least, he didn't even want to open the door." you bring your knees even closer to your chest and rest your hand on your clothed thighs, reminiscing the past events that occurred earlier.

she brings the joint back to her lips, locked between her index and thumb and drags another puff in silence. her brows are furrowed, as she nibbles on the inside of her cheek.

"did he touch you?"

maybe the few extra seconds you take to answer aren't welcomed because she turns around to face you entirely,

"that's a yes or no question ( @ ), did he?" her voice is so calm it contrasts too well with her cold stare, you don't know if it's truly out of annoyance but it makes you gulp down as you shift in place.

"he just grabbed me but i think he was just scared, i don't know. he was gentle though–"

"do you think i give a fuck if he was gentle?" she puts a hand on her knee and now you're certain she's got all your attention, she doesn't let anything pass her by.

"ellie, he didn't want to harm me or anything, i guess he's never done this kinda stuff before, he was awkward with it."

she laughs crudely, the sour noise resonates in her living room, "sure he was, i can assure you that your belief in the good man certainly stems more from your naivety than from any hidden misanthropy."

it's your turn to frown and redress yourself completely this time, letting loose of your legs as one hangs over the couch "what the fuck are you trying to say?"

"whatever, forget it." she shakes her head and exhales a long breath, tapping the joint over the ashtray one more time – though you doubt it was needed.

"no, tell me."

"i'm saying.. you've got a lot of trust in random men for someone who's done this i don't know how many times. you should know better, they don't want you any good."

"how can you be so pessimistic,"

"i'm realistic and you're trying to turn a blind eye for whatever fuckin' reason." she raises her brows, eyes low as she stares at the floor.

"why are you getting so worked up over that anyways?

she looks at you as if you've said the stupidest thing ever, she soon retracts at the end of the couch just the opposite from you as her back rests against the armrest.

"it's pissing me the fuck off to see you like that. you always do this." she breathes out, "always choosing the worst people on this planet to have a date with, makes me think you have a death wish or somethin'"

"looks like you'd know better, want you to choose for me?" you crack a smile faintly.

"i'm not playing this game ( @ ), the point is you need to stop this. stop going out with randoms you've known for less than two hours."

"i don't see why it's such a problem for you,"

"it becomes my problem the moment you open your mouth, you're fooling yourself if you think i'm not gonna do anything about it."

"i don't ask you to do anything. actually i don't want you to do anything about it, ellie."

"then why do you always talk to me about this kind of stuff? you always come here to complain about shits you obviously can't take care of so yeah, maybe i do have to step up."

your chest tightens at her words, as well as your eyes start to water automatically, one thing you didn't want to happen. you blink the imminent tears away.

"but i don't want you to take care of it? i'm only talking, can't we just talk?"

she shakes her head once again, "i don't see the point of talking over and over about the same things when you're very much aware of my point of view. what else do you want me to say."

"maybe don't say anything at all if it's to talk to me this way. acting like my fucking dad." you look away to stare at the living room, her guitar hanging on a wall. it reminds you of the times you two used to play and how enraged she would become learning songs. you chase the memory away.

"hey, i'm not acting like that, pretty. i'm acting like your friend. and i can't stay silent, you'd start thinking i'm giving you the green light." she balances her foot over to nudge yours, making the corner of your lips twitch lightly at the foolish contact.

"you think i need your permission?"

"i wish you would take it in account at least," she twirls the joint interlaced in her fingers, getting a better view of it apparently as she looks at it, "y'know, you either don't realize it or you refuse to see it, i don't know what's worse."

"i could say the same for smoking you know."

"what about it?"

"it messes you up and it messes me up."

she raises her brows with a chuckle, "what, weed? mh, no. don't worry about it. you don't need me to fuck yourself up, i trust you with that." she scoffs sourly.

"i'm serious, ellie."

"i'm sure you are, it's always when you're serious that you say the craziest things."

you stare at her intently but she refuses to meet your gaze, you're sick of today.

"fuck you, i'm leaving." you stand up on your feet and take your purse in your hands, too quick for ellie as she's only turning her head your way, "have fun burning out what's left of your brain cells."

"hey what—, come back here!"

you're soon out of the front door with your car keys in hands, fidgeting to find the right one to open the car doors. you didn't check the hour as you left the room but it certainly is past eleven and you'd prefer driving in the night than stay in ellie's presence tonight.

you open the door to the driver's seat and step in, throwing your bag on the side, closing the door. you don't start the engine just now, you inhale and exhale deeply, putting both of your hands on the steering wheel as your head lowers on it too, your forehead resting on the hard fabric.

you insert your keys to start the car, ready to get going but rather unexpectedly the passengers seat's door opens up abruptly, making you jump in place. you notice the tattooed arm immediately as it reaches over first to grab your purse and throw in in the backseats. the car shakes lightly as she enters and finally sits on your right, beside you.

"get out ellie, i'm going home."

"no i want you to talk to me." she throws her left arm behind her own headrest to look at you better, you stay focused on the road, or rather the infinite void that the darkness offers you.

"i'm done talking."

"be pissed off all you want, fuck if i care you're staying right here."

you reach over her seat to open her door for her, as she doesn't intent on leaving by herself anytime soon, but she's quick to close it immediately, cancelling your action. you narrow her eyes at her and stick your back to your own seat once again, crossing your arms as you also refuse to move.

"alright, stop the car," she's still looking at you, not assertively though, there's a lot more tenderness to her eyes this time, same with her voice.

"please. i'm sorry for what i said, i'll listen to you but you gotta be honest with me. okay?"

you turn off the engine. you hear her sigh, you don't want to look at her. the faint yellow lamp above the both of you is lighting up the whole car, or at least failing to do so as it is more or so almost as somber outside.

"hey, look at me, right here."

you roll your eyes but comply anyways, you turn your head.

"look i don't wanna fight with you, you know that right? i just, i'm really. really fuckin' sick of seeing you all hurt like that every time. i don't want anybody to hurt you, you understand? knowing you go out every week just to meet some pricks is just, making me.." she shakes her head, failing to get out the word out, she only grunts in frustration, "i wanna know something though."

you look at her silently, though you've acknowledged every each one of her words.

"what?" you say, just above a whisper.

"why are you doing this?"

however before you can even consider an answer she continues,

"and don't give me the usual crap, i want the truth. be sincere with me."

the tension in your shoulders ease up, though paradoxically you've grown even more tensed with her question. you uncross your arms and let your elbow rest on your door near the window to support your head. you secretly hope she's gonna drop it one minute from another, as the seconds passes you think – not of an excuse but of words – but she only sits there, looking at anything and everything peacefully.

"i've got the whole night, hope your car's comfortable." she presses her back against where it should be, staring in front of her.

you take a big breath, "i want.. i guess i just hope that, if i keep doing this.." you fingers play with the fabric of your dress, "if i do this maybe you'll snap out of it."

she glares at you for a few seconds, "snap out of what?"

"of this thing keeping you close enough to be my friend but far enough to .." you sigh, "to be something else."

you refuse to look at her, your face is boiling though it's hard to know if it's out of embarrassment, crippling sadness or annoyance.

"i've got another question," she faintly says, "why do you think i care that much about you going out?"

she looks at her hands, rubbing some scars away as if it would make them disappear, you shrug.

"c'mon don't make me say it, i know you can be a smart girl when you want to." she scoffs with a smile, and you notice how the both of you are in awkward positions, just some centimeters away from one another but incapable of facing each other.

"you don't have to say it," you murmur, letting a smile spread along your lips the same way, "i'll blame you getting handsy on the weed," you look at her and watch the light bulb lightning up her face when she gets the hint. she shifts in place, getting more comfortable as she tilts her head on the side with a smug smile.

"i'm sure you will." she whispers, her eyes shifts from your eyes to your lips, she blinks a few times before shaking her head softly, a light tug on her lips. you frown at her reaction,

"what?"

"can't believe those fuckers got to touch you before i did."

you part your lips to answer but your heaving breath gets caught in your throat, the same way that it gets suddenly dry, apprehending her next movements, her touch. you see her fingers tightening on her own seat, your face is getting closer to hers without you putting to much effort in it, like you're just pulled in like a magnet.

"c'mere, pretty." she mutters right before taking your face in her hands.

her lips find yours as her hands grab both sides of your face, lingering on your jaw to pull you closer to her. the kiss is long, languid and you have to put every effort to not make a sound. you feel her exhale through her nose, relieving the built up tension from prior your presume as her kisses grow more rapid and intense each seconds. your hands find her shirt, tugging on it in hope to get her to be closer – mind you, you're already glued to her.

"i hate it when you smoke." you whine, breaking off the kiss just to initiate another one not a second after. she slips her hand on your nape, her thumb brushing against your neck as her mouth travels down your jaw.

"yeah? show me better ´cause i don't think you're hating the right way right now."

she leaves wet patches on your neck, lapping the sensitive skin as you fight back noises that only comes out muffled. her other hand slides down your waist to try and pull you closer despite the obvious console box blocking the way.

"ok fuck that. backseat, now." she rushes out of breath and you don't wait a second more as you pull your body up to the center of the car and crawl the best your can to the back of the car. she follows you immediately and you both regain your previous positions, you on the left and her on the right.

she easily slides her hand on your thigh as she's back on your mouth, lifting your sundress on the way and you automatically part your legs apart lightly.

"next time use your words, i promise you it's a lot more effective, ok?" she looks at you, eyelids heavy and chest rising up and down rapidly, "don't put you through things like that ever again, for anybody."

you stare at her for some seconds before nodding, as you put your lips on hers once again, starving for the feeling. you bring her closer by pulling at her shirt underneath and she cages herself right in between your legs, supporting her body with her hand on the seats. you lean back against the window under the weight, and you feel her fingers going up until they reach the sides of your panties, her fingers are digging in the skin of your hips.

"you're gonna let me make you feel good? i wanna take care of you." she breathes out right against your lips, leaving a few pecks in between.

"yeah, yes p-please," you whine, getting impatient.

she lowers her head and pulls back from you completely, resting her butt on her ankles to admire you, "good, i'm gonna treat you the way you deserve it, alright?" she lifts your dress up, letting you panties to appear visible and slides her hand up and down your clothed entrance, making your legs jolt slightly from the contact as you exhale sharply through your nose.

she leans in again to kiss your neck, then moves down your collarbones and traces along the lines of them. you slouch back down until your head rests flat against the seats as she puts your panties to the side, you grab onto her shoulders the best you can when she begins to glide her fingers up and down along your wet entrance. you moan softly at the touch and you push your legs farther against your chest to give her better access.

she rests on her other hand as she looks at the way your slick coats her fingers with the same repetitive movements, bringing them up to your clit and circling it painfully slow, making your back arch as you seek for the contact. your mouth opens silently as you grab her forearm, digging your fingers in her flesh. her middle finger finds your entrance and she pushes it all the way in gently, curling it when it reaches her knuckle and pushes it all the way out, pumping her finger in and out of you nonchalantly.

"'s good, so fuckin' good." you whimper silently, trying to block your voice away.

she brings her eyes on you with a smirk, "yeah? let me hear you," she pulls away from you once again to get a better view as she watches her finger disappear past your folds, "let me hear how good i make you feel."

you feel another finger pushing against your hole and you know she's doing it on purpose just so you could grant her wish, which you miserably success to accomplish as you throw. your head back with a moan. she's two fingers deep inside of you and speeds up as she sees the way your body moves around like a worm, contorting all over the place.

"that's my girl," she mumbles more to herself, though you hear it, making your walls clench around her fingers.

"ffuck, i'm getting— i'm gettin' c-close," you bring your legs back against your chest for better access as you feel heat spreading all over your lower abdomen, tightening into a tight knot. however if you thought she'd give you what you want immediately that would have been way too candide of you, to imagine she would willingly let you come in less than ten minutes ; to your dismay she slows the pace down until she pulls back entirely, leaving you empty.

"keep your hands right there." she nods, where they sit on the back of your thighs to keep them spread apart.

you can't even protest as she crouches down, chest touching the seats and back arching when she grabs your thighs, bringing you closer to her mouth. she once again pushes your panties to the side and wastes no time in lapping your cunt vigorously, the fat of her tongue pressing flatly against your entrance, all the way up to your clit just like she did with her fingers previously.

your hand finds her head, you push back the few strands of hair falling out messily – though you doubt she even cares –, she flicks your clit with the wet tip of her tongue, right to the left, left to the right, sucking on it and you let out a choked sob at the sensation. she pushes her tongue all the way down to your entrance until she practically fucks you with it, bringing her free hand to swirl her finger around your clit, making you cry out from pleasure.

"fuck—fuck ellie !"

she keeps up with the quick pace until your belly tightens for the second time, you arch your back as your muscles flex from the tension when you come right on her tongue, she continues to stimulate your inside as her hand caresses your thigh.

"there you go. handled it like a g, huh?" she smiles at you. too fucked out to speak though you bring your hands to your face, wiping the remains of tears, away from the corner of your eyes as you breathe deeply to get back down.

"had a long day right?" she kisses your inner thigh, backing up as she fixes your panties and your dress. you only hum in response when she pulls you up with a hand behind your head.

"stay over tonight. i'll carry you back home." she presses a chaste kiss on your forehead.

©nabitsun !

#divider by anitalenia #ellie x you #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou oneshot #ellie oneshot #ellie williams angst #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #tlou smut #tlou ellie

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blondieeu · 1 day

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yes, and? denki k.

denki kaminari is your ex boyfriend, of course he’s jealous when he sees other men in your text messages, can’t help it.

when he first ever really thought about you being with other men after the breakup, it was when he was supposed to be over your house because he needed to pick up some stuff—but you invited him in to look at the screws on your bedframe and..try them out.

denki sat next to you on the couch, cuddled up on the couch he bought you while he watched some football game on the tv. that is until he went to grab the remote and happened to notice you have men in your message list! what the hell!!

he felt his heart drop all the way into his stomach, furious he sat up to confront you. i mean what the hell was your problem?! didn’t he fuck you good enough to be the only man in your phone?

“what!! you’re texting other guys?!”

“huh?”

and you’d look up from your phone to your ex boyfriends overly offended face with a hand on his chest. the tv in the background let off cheering noises as someone got tackled.

“denki.. we already broke up”

“so let’s get back together then?? quick fix.”

he sat up with a frown on his face, making you sit up in turn and look at him. what?! you’d been broken up for months, and he was talking to other girls too!

“denki you are seriously out of your mind”

you brushed him off, settling back into your spot on the couch and opening your phone again, but not without another deeply offended face clouded over his previous one as he got all the way up, standing up now.

“im not— serious lets date again. right now, let’s get back together”

“?!—“

in the same beat your ex boyfriend scooped you up from the couch and sprinted into the bedroom, you hanging over his shoulder kicking your feet. once there, he let you kick your way off him and onto your once shared bed.

denki pulled his t-shirt off his head and threw it to an unknown corner in the room. you didn’t complain, sitting on your knees and waiting for him to say something—should you be turned on or weirded out?

“what the hell is this?”

“we’re gonna make up”

he whispered, unbuckling the belt on his jeans and zipping his fly down right before he started paying more attention to you. your ex? boyfriend pulled you towards him so you were almost crawling as he kissed you.

even while you should’ve you didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, matching his slow rhythm and letting him lay you down on your back, crawling on top of you.

“after this you better not talk to any guy other than me..”

blondieeu xx

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bunnwich · 15 hours

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Rituals☁️(Leona x Reader)

Leona is low on spoons after the Tamashina-Mina tournament and needs some attention. Also what better way for him to sneakily court his favorite creature?

Curated from my 200k+ words Leona x Yuu fic

Characters: Leona Kingscholar x Yuu!Reader (GN. No physical description for Yuu. Yuu knows massage therapy.)

Words: 3k, 3rd person

Notes: I saw a meme the other day about how: “Liberalism leaves people’s bodies when mental health starts to affect someone’s hygiene” and I thought of how the fandom used to treat Leona. Also, I really wanted to make the “he uses you as a pillow” cliche not icky.

Tagging: @comingyourlugubriousness @nammanarin @twst-the-night-away @twstinginthewind @ephemii @the-monday-witch @anevilbunnyinthehat @stagefullofsilly @theshipthatneversetsail @patrioticarcreactor @ice-cweam-sod4 @beaniz @the-nightingales-song @efsstash @cyn-write @porcelain-animatronic @lowcallyfruity @bestmannequin2018 @h0rr0r-10ver-69

It was baffling enough of a request that Leona Kingscholar invited Yuu to his home, but even more so was the thing he asked of them now.

“What? Am I your servant now, too?”

“No, course not.” He seemed deeply offended at this implication, nostrils flaring in indignance while his ears flopped backward against his hair. “I’m…askin’ you.” His ears flipped back up as he took a step closer, awaiting their response.

“Wait. You're serious…?” Yuu asked with a crinkle of their nose.

“Please…?” The word was barely audible, the man’s green-eyed stare never breaking from theirs. “If you’d be so kind…” He smirked, putting on an air, propping a hand on his hip. It was a warm day at the palace and he donned a pair of loose linen pants and a matching cream-colored tank top, all embroidered with gold.

Yuu swayed their head back and forth while they considered the idea, unimpressed by the sudden “princely” act. What was he up to? They gazed down at the object in their hand as if it held the answer. Well, it wasn’t often that they heard that word from Leona Kingscholar. “Fine, okay.”

Was it really such a big deal, brushing his hair?

–

The hammock below the two of them swayed with both their weights as they sat face to face, each teetering on each edge of the colorful canvas. Late afternoon light filtered through the stained glass over all the greenery of the palace gardens, gilding everything it touched.

Sighing, Yuu made another move, leaning forward to grab another section of the dark waves from the man’s shoulder. They hadn’t even ended up using the brush much so far. The only thing it had been good for was hitting the man when he talked back.

“Well, the good news is…I got most of it.”

On their way here, Yuu grabbed their bag, bringing it with them to the gardens. Luckily, they kept a few favorites with them at all times. A small vial of rosehip oil; that would work. It could be used for both skin and hair in a pinch. Removing the dropper from the bottle they dripped some more into their palms, rubbing them together before applying it to the end of the man’s loose curls.

“Stinks.”

Yuu couldn’t help but roll their eyes at him. “It’s just rose. It’s nothing compared to that eye-watering cologne you bathe in every day. They sighed, working it through his thick tresses in the silence, pulling it all through to the ends of each section. “...I shouldn’t really be brushing it when it’s all tangled like this, you know.”

“Tch, I know that,” He said indignantly, his lips pressing into a small pout, eyes downcast to watch them work. “Everyone just assumes my hair is like my brother’s…”

They pressed their lips together. “Hmph. Then do it yourself, next time, huh? ” Letting out a huff, they released the bushel of soft curls, the dark curtain falling over Leona's neck. His hair honestly wasn’t as bad as he had made it seem. It just needed some moisture and careful detangling.

“Naw, why would I…when you’re already doing it for me.” The man reclined forward, propping his elbow on the canvas. “Mmm.” He watched them move on to the next section, meticulously separating the frizz and smoothing it over with the oil. Releasing a small sound in his throat, he stared up at them with lethargic eyes, seemingly in a trance.

Yuu shook their head at his comment, knowing that secretly he was just eating up the attention. Keeping their eyes down on their work, they were careful not to pull too hard on his strands.

Leona muttered something as his lids fell completely closed, the end of his tail tapping on the edge of the hammock by their knee. A steady drumbeat.

They took their time with the rest, with only the noise of a few birds calling and Leona’s occasional sigh or grumble. It wasn’t long before, their lids lulled down too. It was relaxing in a way, quietly detangling someone’s hair.

Every once and a while their eyes flitted to the man’s face, catching the little twitch of the corner of his lips. After Yuu was done the detangling, they pulled two equal parts of the bottom sections forward, trying their best to get them even. They stuck their tongue out while they focused, before braiding them as neatly as they could manage, in the way he normally wore them.

“There, you look more like yourself...” Yuu shrugged when they were done, tugging on one of the braids, and making sure the man wasn’t actually asleep. “Better?” They crossed their arms, raising a brow over at him.

“Yeah.” The man opened his eyes slightly, the edge of his mouth falling into a crooked, but satisfied smile. “You did good.” His voice crackled just like the way a warm fire would. Like the bonfires at Savanclaw. He may have been sincere, but everything Leona said was always dipped in just a little bit of patronization.

Yuu palmed him on the forehead, pushing his face away slightly before letting their fingers drift up to his scalp, moving some of the hair out of his face.

“Hm?” He questioned, shifting slightly, turning his head to look up at what they were doing.

“Are you uh- still having those headaches?” They began to work their finger into his crown, between his twitching ears, pressing gently down on a few familiar pressure points. “I have to tell you, I’m the best.”

“I always have a headache when you're around.” He sat up erect, suddenly seeming full of energy, grabbing their calves and yanking them closer to him, practically into his lap. He kept going until the backs of their legs were hooked over his thighs. He chuckled in delight at their bewildered deer-in-headlights reaction.

Yuu froze at his boldness, pressing their lips together into a pout as they stared up at him with blinking eyes.

“Don’t be all shy, now. Prove it. I think I got a big one coming on.” He purred at them.

Still playing, hm? “Hmph.” They huffed out a breath at his shenanigans.

Leona didn’t let them get far though, keeping his hands locked around their ankles, leaning over to study their reaction. “Feel free to say no.” He released them, holding his hands up innocently. “...If you’re not up to the task that is.” A bit of his white fangs gleamed as his sneer widened, leering at them through his dark lashes.

“You-” Yuu stuttered, resigning themselves. They were falling for it. This is what Leona was best at: pushing others into “proving themselves” by gently prodding them from their comfort zone.

“Fine.” Saying nothing more, they only lifted their hands to evaluate him once more, taking in a breath before tracing their fingers down the sides of his muscular neck.

Ah, the man seemed a bit surprised to see them agree, but he quickly masked it with another smug smile as he lifted his jaw to accommodate them.

Leona’s skin was much warmer than theirs and surprisingly smooth, his excited pulse fluttering under their fingers. “Hm. You are tense.” They muttered aloud, pressing their thumb into one of the hard muscles there. “That hurt?”

“Ack, what do you think? Beast…” He hissed, his ears lowering slightly, grabbing their wrist to stop them.

Yuu smirked, most people didn’t expect that kind of strength from them…until they gave them a chance to prove it. “Sheesh, sorry you big baby. I was just askin’.” They rolled their eyes and swatted his nosy hand away. This allowed them to focus again, laying their palms on both of his broad shoulders.

They could see it clearly now, his shoulders were rounded forward, and his left side was higher–signaling to them he probably held more tension there.

The man was studying them again, one grumpy eye barely open.

Yuu chuckled, no one expects how much it hurts. Though as much as they enjoyed hurting the man, they went in softer this time, gently kneading his shoulders and neck, before they bothered to poke him anymore. As they worked closer to his jaw, they became enveloped in his signature smell. Traces of cinnamon, hints of orange, and star anise lingered on their fingertips as they explored his exposed skin, taking care to not pull on the golden necklace that hung from his neck.

“How…did you know?” Leona asked through a groan.

They had hit the right spot.

“The way you walk, for one. You know, with your head forward. For royalty…your posture is terrible, you know. You heard Vil. Anyways, I can just tell by feeling most of the time.” Yuu added, continuing to work on the tightest areas first.

“Tch, you��re one to talk,” He said through his groans, brown ears flopping to the sides as he began to relax into their skilled touch. “...I recall us both getting reamed by Schoenheit at those practices.”

“Hey, I’m not the one on trial here. You asked for my expert opinion.” They continued, reaching around to the back of the man’s neck to rub circles in the base of his skull, moving up into his thick hair.

Leona made a rumbling noise in his chest at this, letting his head nod forward until he went completely limp in their hands. Somewhere, between the ticks of both their breaths, he had slumped his whole weight on them. A whole lion in their lap.

“Mmm.” He nuzzled his forehead against Yuu's shoulder, moving his hand from their calf up onto their arm, running a finger across the loose thread of their sleeve.

Yuu tensed, the man’s warm breath tickling their neck. It felt a little surreal to think such a powerful mage lay against them now like an oversized house cat. It was sort of an honor that he felt so relaxed around them. Sort of.

They shook their head, trying not to giggle, and straightened their back to accommodate the new weight. Yuu kept on working as if nothing had changed, ignoring the fluttering in their guts that his soft breaths over their cheeks stirred.

After they finished with his scalp, they worked back down to his shoulders, grabbing both of them and twisting them to one side, signaling wordlessly for the man to turn around for them. The hammock squeaked as he rearranged himself and Yuu pulled his head down into the center of their lap.

Going by cat behavior, he had shown them his belly, a small sliver peeking from the edge of his tank top. Now, with a completely malleable lion in their lap, Yuu couldn’t help but smile. He was totally at their mercy, moving whichever way they pulled him.

Some people they had worked on, like Jack, could never fully relax for them, no matter how many times they reminded him to. However, the oxymoron of man before them seemed to have no problem flopping over like a sleepy kitten, ready to be petted.

Their fingers made their way up and down his neck shoulders and even a bit of his chest, respecting the barrier of his tank top.

Every once in a while, Leona’s lips tumbled open with a deep rumbling sigh of relief, pressing himself in their touch with each stroke, seeming to crave more and more. Their face grew hot, and some part of this felt…too intimate. No, no. It was just a massage, but the man’s touch-starved reactions were becoming harder and harder to ignore.

It was only when Yuu’s fingers reached up to his jaw did Leona open his eyes once more.

As their fingertips settled on the sides of his face, his shoulders went stiff under their care. Yuu could feel Leona’s pulse ramp up for the first time during the massage. His jaw tightened as they brought their fingers up to the temples of his grimacing face, trying to soothe him.

He couldn’t be nervous now, could he?

“You…hold a lot of tension in your face too,” They said calmly, urging his head to the right side, “Especially your…jaw.” They moved down to press their thumb into his cheek, easily finding the small, rigid muscle on the left side of his face.

The man grunted, “Easy.”

Yuu shook their head again and eased up some. “...Just breathe.” They sighed, rolling their eyes as they massaged his jaw. “That right there is probably a big culprit of your headaches, you know.”

“Hmm,” He replied thoughtfully, his face softening some at their more gentle method.

Their fingers worked each side of his face some more, then trailed slowly up his nose, rubbing circles across his sinuses. When they made their way up to his “third eye” area they rubbed extra hard to make a point, trying to get him to relax once more. “Sorry, just trying smooth out that permanent wrinkle you got there…”

Leona scoffed, dipping his head back into their touch, and closing his eyes shut again. “Tch, yeah well, every time I come home to visit it ages me five years, so...” He chuckled.

Yuu let out a light chuckle too, taking the strokes they made on the man’s cheeks upward and into his hairline, brushing against his scar a few times.

Leona’s forehead creased, an uncommon expression gracing his usually stern or sarcastic face. His broad nose curled in discomfort and they could see his eyes flicker anxiously under his lids. He was even holding his breath.

“Hey…Just breathe I told you!” They repeated with another soft laugh. “It helps with circulation.”

“Mmph.” The man said nothing and grunted at them before exhaling loudly. They would have thought they were doing something painful to him by his expressions.

Yuu tilted their head, realizing exactly what this was all about. They cupped their palms around his cheeks before dragging the stroke up, one of their fingertips running over the edge of his scar again to test the theory.

The skin was dryer there and slightly raised. It created extra pull whenever they went over it. But, besides that…it was no different than any other part of his face. The Leona Kingscholar couldn’t be self-conscious, could he? No one ever really commented on it, and it surely did nothing but, to quote Rook: add to his “handsome and rugged charisma.”

But, the more they thought about it, they could understand why he was so dodgy about it. A memory like that, couldn’t have been pleasant.

The more times Yuu went over it they sensed a strange pull of energy from the area, like deep space. They were sure it was something the man had buried deep, so he could convince himself that he didn’t remember what actually happened anymore.

Can’t remember every little scratch, he said once. How many people knew the real truth, they wondered. Or if there were any legends behind it in the palace.

“You don’t have ta’ touch it.” The man blurted out, trying to keep a straight face. His lips pressed together hard before he feigned a usual smug grin. “Though, I know that you’re a professional and all.”

“Wha-” Yuu almost wanted to roll their eyes at him for how dramatic he was being but, they didn’t.

“And- Why…would it bother me?” They asked casually, continuing the face massage as normal.

“Hmph.” Leona let out a huff, one side of his mouth arching upwards into a small smile. “I…see.” When he opened his eyes again, they were shiny, reflecting the tree tops around them. “Not many people have uh-”

“Feel better?” Yuu lifted their hands from his face as they finished, saving him from the awkwardness of elaborating further. They had seen plenty enough to know how relieved he was at their response. That was enough.

“Mmhm.” He answered, clearing his throat before sitting up to face them again, the whole hammock groaning in response. “....Thank ya.” He muttered, reaching behind to rub the back of his neck. “Much looser now-”

Leona sighed, eyebrows curving up over his eyes. Then, all at once his gaze snapped up to them, taking them in from head to toe. In one smooth movement, he let his body settle down against theirs, his strong shoulder pressing against them.

Yuu’s heart hammered against his, mirroring the same fervid beat. No, this was more than just hair brushing. They hadn’t considered the implications until this moment, those of beastmen courtship and personal hygiene that they had read about. The concepts were often interlinked. Sacred.

A hug? No, he was just still just staring at them now, inches away, like a cat ready to pounce. The usual slits of his eyes were dark pools of space, reflecting back their own baffled expression.

Yuu swallowed. They were so gridlocked by his intense stare, it was hard to speak or even breathe with him pressing them so firmly to the canvas hammock. He seemed at odds with something, his worn gaze downcast. “W-What…what’s wrong, Leona?” They whispered through an unsteady chuckle, managing to keep their head.

“Nothin’. Nothin’ at all.” He whispered, letting his weight sink further into them. There was a peaceful smile on his face as he reached up to grab a section of their hair from behind their ear, twisting it between his fingertips, tail flopping behind him lazily.

It felt like they were being chosen for something.

“Wha-” Their eyes widened, it took them a whole 30 seconds to realize the man was braiding the pieces together, calm and methodical, like when he was arranging his pieces on a chess board. Part of the plan. It was obvious Leona knew how to braid hair but it was…surreal to behold it.

When he was done the corner of his mouth turned up more, creasing a dimple into his cheek. His eyes fixated on the sight of his results, he was so…proud of his work.

Yuu didn’t even have time to speak before he turned his head away, lying his cheek on one side of their shoulder once more. He had done it so casually as if he had done it a hundred times before and would do it a hundred times more.

They understand why he did it, the two of them were…a matching set now.

He chose them. Their heart squeezed as the man draped his arms around their waist, locking them in place once more as something shifted between them.

Leona’s cocky air had all but dissipated. “...Is this okay with ya?” He muttered so softly they almost missed it. He was asking permission, asking if they would accept him.

“Oh um…Y-yes.” They let their arms fall around his back, tugging on the end of his curls as they held him. Yes, he was getting way too comfortable, but it was their fault for allowing it, right? Yuu laid their head on his, letting him know for sure that: yes, it was okay.

“Hey, I know you're not falling asleep right now.” They grumbled playfully, tugging on his hair and furrowing their brow. Meanwhile, they curled their legs around his torso like a koala as he held them tight, making sure there was no space between them.

They knew it was all a lost cause. He had set the board how he wanted. He would not let them go again, and they didn’t want him to.

“Shh,” Leona mumbled into their shirt, inhaling deeply. “ You’ve been real workin’ lately hard, right? Rest wit’ me.”

“But I-” Yuu yawned, their eyes watering some as they did. The action had forced their eyes shut. The breeze also was not helping, rocking them both gently inside the hammock. “Fine. But just for a little while.” They breathed out, their own shoulders finally relaxing. Yuu’s head slumped over to gently bob against Leona’s.

“You win…this time.”

The man only chuckled at their admission of defeat, a warm note buzzing against their chest.

The last thing they saw was the colored glass of the greenhouse, filtering in pink light through the serrated leaves of the palm trees.

Leona’s sighs of contentment traveled through their body, as his warm fingers kneaded into their back.

#another Leona x Yuu fic was requested on ao3 #twst #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #twst leona #tamashina mina #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #bunnwich writes📝

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ezdotjpg · 3 days

Note

Hi!!! Sorry if you've been asked this before but is it possible for you to summarize the Bonus Links' personalities? Just asking because I'd like to get a general idea, apologies if this is too much of a pain to answer 😭🫶🏻

hey! luckily I already wrote up character intros a while back that I never posted to tumblr lol, so I'll go ahead and post them now! under the cut since this is mega long lol

Loft

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Skyward Sword

Age: 22

Height: 5’3”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: World’s Nicest Man Pushed To His Limit. It’s his nature to be light-hearted and easy-going, but ever since the events of Skyward Sword he’s been unable to let the implications of Demise’s curse and Zelda’s connection to Hylia go. He’s usually mild, but he’s got a lot of suppressed anger in him that comes out at inopportune times. He tends towards being optimistic, but has lately been caught in a depressive spiral. As a result of all these conflicting emotions, he hasn’t felt like himself in a while. Before everything, he could have been described as a little bit lazy, but these days a better word would be lethargic. He’s got a mischievous and thrill-seeking streak that often surprises people. He knows he’s powerful, but he’s lost some confidence in the years since his quest. He’s wracked with guilt about the way everything ended.

Slate

Pronouns: tends to use he/him, but really any

Game: Breath of the Wild (ignoring TotK for now)

Age: 21

Height: 5’0”

Communication: Mainly signs, speaks occasionally

Personality: The Reviews Are In: Friendly Guy, Vaguely Off-Putting. He knows he’s not pre-calamity Link, but he’s not exactly sure what he is instead. He’s accepted this about himself, and it grinds his gears that other people refuse to. He’s not sure what to do with all these memories inside him that aren’t his, and that he feels nothing for. He’s become more expressive, but when he’s upset his face goes entirely blank. He has a tendency to be distracted, blunt, intense, impulsive, somewhat abrasive. But he’s not unkind, and can even be outright friendly. He’d offer his help to anyone who asks, and he makes it a point to know everyone in Hyrule. He’s happiest out in nature, and doesn’t mind the solitude. He only ever lies by omission, and otherwise says exactly what he means. There’s something a little otherworldly about him.

Mask

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask

Age: 15

Height: 5’2½”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Local Teen Needs Hug So Bad, Will Bite If You Try. He’s prickly, hot-tempered, moody. He’ll pick verbal battles he probably shouldn’t. Everything is a touchy subject. But he’s developed this behavior as a coping mechanism. He’s kind by nature, and it takes effort to lash out. The person he is with Malon- gentle, more soft-spoken, with a good sense of humor and a love for harmless mischief- is a lot closer to the person he’s comfortable being. He’s a scared kid. He feels out of place, both mature and immature, of this world and not. Sometimes, he gets scrambled between Termina, the Hyrule he’s in now, the Hyrule he left behind, and the Hyrule of the war. He has a lot of resentment for both the gods and the royal family, and all he wants is to be left alone.

Wolf

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Twilight Princess

Age: 23

Height: 5’5”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Thank God I’m A Country Boy. He’s a gentle soul, probably the gentlest out of all of them. He likes to be useful, and he has made being the problem solver of Ordon Village part of his identity. He’s a bit of a mother hen and likes to take care of people. Midna was good at bringing out a little bit of attitude and snark in him. He’s got a bad case of Resting Bitch Face, but he’s not an angry person. However, he’s had a hard time adjusting to life back in Ordon. He’s usually even-tempered, but lately he’s been irritable and easier to anger. He feels isolated by his experiences, and has been avoiding most of the villagers, including his loved ones, even though it makes him lonely. Mostly he just doesn’t want to take it out on them, but it’s also about his pride. He enjoys the company of animals far more these days. He wants a quiet life, and has been avoiding Zelda's attempts to make "Hero" a political role for him to fill.

War

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Hyrule Warriors

Age: 25

Height: 5’7”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally, had Proxi speak for him at one point during the war

Personality: Link “This Is My Jaeger, I Make The Tactical Decisions” Faron. He comes across as a very charming young man, witty, helpful, pleasant in conversation, well-adjusted. In reality, he is constantly doing complicated political 4D chess in his mind at all times, even when it’s not necessary. Many years of being subject to the whims of the Royal Court and pressure to be a perfect symbol have poisoned him: he’s become calculating, manipulative, superficially polite, two-faced. He has to be the one holding all the cards, considering all the variables, fixing all of the problems, because he can’t trust anyone else. If you were to strip him of all pretense, he'd actually be a dry, resigned person, perpetually annoyed with everyone around him. He values status and reputation, and he wants more power than he has. His appearance is important to him because he knows his pretty face is an asset. He holds deep respect for the gods and the mantle of the hero. He has a strong sense of duty, but one that often leads him to justify terrible actions. The ends justify the means.

Mirror

Pronouns: he/they

Game: A Link Between Worlds, Triforce Heroes

Age: 22

Height: 5’1”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Local Link Doing Pretty Well Actually, All Things Considered. He’s just living his life, having a mostly pleasant time. He used to be quiet and reserved when he was younger, but has come out of his shell in a big way. He’s a bit vain, and fond of doing things with a dramatic flair. They like to have an audience, they like to make people laugh, they like to have your attention. Rather than being poisoned by court politics, he thrives in them. He doesn’t pretend to be charming, he just is. They can be on the arrogant side. He’s interested in fashion and art more than fighting these days, but still keeps his skills up to date. He pretends the scar on his face doesn’t bother him, but it does. He’s particularly obsessed with the legend of the hero before him.

Mage

Pronouns: he/him

Game: A Link to the Past, Link’s Awakening, Oracle of Ages, Oracle of Seasons

Age: 32

Height: 5’3”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Weird Uncle You Just Stopped Hearing From One Day. He’s a difficult guy to get a read on. He comes off as deeply serious, imposing, no-nonsense. He is actually full of nonsense. The fact that no one can tell what is and isn’t part of the bit is part of the bit. He mostly ignores his own problems by dedicating his life to solving other people’s problems. He wanders from place to place, helping people and becoming a bit of a larger than life folk legend in his own right in the process. He’s leaned into learning magic more than the sword, and has built up quite the arsenal of spells. He doesn’t speak often, and is content to let other Links lead despite being the oldest and the most experienced. He’s difficult to rile and even more difficult to get a straight answer out of.

Spirit

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Spirit Tracks

Age: 16

Height: 4’11”

Communication: Mainly signs, speaks occasionally. He has a stutter when he speaks.

Personality: Wants To Be Anywhere But Here, Preferably On A Train. He’s fully given up swordfighting, and basically just wants to go back to being a Royal Engineer like nothing happened. He has no interest in gaining any kind of attention, authority, or power from the mantle of the hero, and would actually prefer that everyone stop looking at him. He’s quiet, sweet-natured and generally non-confrontational, but he’s not afraid to stand up for himself when pushed. It’s just that it’s easier to let Zelda stand up for him instead. He’s pretty mature and in-tune with his emotions for a 16 year old. Seeing spirits everywhere, he has a lot of private thoughts about grief and death that he doesn’t share with anyone. The gears in his brain are constantly turning, and once he’s stuck on an idea, it’s all he can focus on. He often doesn’t give himself enough credit for how capable he is. Please let him tell you about trains.

Mini

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Minish Cap

Age: 14

Height: 4’3”

Communication: Only signs, mute.

Personality: He’s Just A Little Guy, Only 2 Pixels Tall. Mini doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do. He’s not very expressive in the face, and it can be hard to tell what he’s thinking or feeling. Mostly, he’s a little rascal. He likes to root around in the garbage and build strange little machines from what he finds. He spends a lot of time hanging out with the Minish, moreso than humans. It’s a little bit of an escapism thing. He hasn’t really processed what it meant to become the hero so young, and is actively trying to avoid doing so. He’s very independent, and simply doesn’t compute attempts to coddle him.

Wake

Pronouns: he/him

Game: Wind Waker, Phantom hourglass

Age: 20

Height: 5’5”

Communication: Mainly speaks, signs occasionally

Personality: Everyone’s Favorite Cousin At The Family Function. He’s a fun person to be around. Friendly, energetic, laid back, good-natured, outgoing. He is always up for a good shenanigan. But he can get serious when he needs to, and often plays the important role of mediator in group dynamics. He’s the glue that holds the team together! He seems to take everything in stride, and presents himself as unbothered by the things that have happened to him. Whether that’s actually true, or he’s just compartmentalized everything too well remains to be seen. He has a strange way of being very open, and yet a closed book at the same time. He’s sentimental, and family is important to him

#hope this helps #and that my summaries aren't too rambly #long post #astronomically so probably #all links #bonus lore #bonuslinksdotjpg

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purple-obsidian · 2 days

Note

Heyyyyy pookieeee-i saw your Jason todd fic and wanted to ask,what do you think he will be like teaching his gf how to drive?

(Because nobody in my freaking life taught me how to drive yet so I have to sit like a duck and wait for someone to pick me up when I wanna go somewhere pleaseeee let me drivee-)

be brave (jason todd x fem reader) wc 800

⭓ fluff isn't my normal cup of tea. but for you, pookie, i can make an exception ;) sorry this took a while to answer, hope you don't mind i made this specific to driving a motorcycle. that's just what felt right when i was meditating on this prompt so i went with it. enjoy.

"Jason, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"You second guessing me, princess?"

"Yeah, maybe I am. I could kill us!"

Jason scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief. "You think I would let that happen? Ever?" With cocky grin, Jason walks over and stares down at you, noting the apprehension on your face. "Remember the day we met? You told me you had a bucket list. Things you wanted to do before you died."

"Yeah, I only told you that because I thought I was going to die. You rescued me. I got plenty of time now, I don't have to learn how to drive tonight. Its already dark." You reach your hand up reflexively to rest against his chest as he gets closer. Its a habit of yours. You always find yourself drawn to the steady beating of his heart. Its grounding, and you need some of that right now.

"The road is well lit. We're miles from the outskirts of Gotham, no traffic out here. Just you and me, baby. Why not now?" His large hand rests over yours, pressing it more firmly against his chest. His heart is beating slow and steady, and his piercing green eyes are filled with admiration. "You and I both know that every day we have together is precious. Why wait to do the things you wanna do? Besides, I'd feel better knowing my girl can drive my bike if she needs to."

Jason knows you too well, calling you his girl like that makes you feel weak in the knees. Your own heart beats faster as you break your gaze away from your boyfriend smiling down at you, looking over at the motorcycle he brought you here on. For some reason, it looks more intimidating than it did a few minutes ago. You swallow the lump in your throat before looking back at him. "I'm nervous."

"I know." He states matter-of-factly. Of course he knows, he can read you like a book.

"I've literally never driven anything before. Like ever. I haven't even-"

"Shhh." Jason's hand leaves yours and cups your face gently. His other hand is on your waist, keeping you close. "You don't have to be good at it right away. I don't expect you to be. But you're smart. And you're perceptive. And I know after a little practice, you'll get more confident. I won't let us crash, baby, promise."

Jason really does know you too well. He can see the rebuttal forming on your lips before he finishes speaking. So he leans down to kiss it away before you can verbally express your doubts. The tinge of frustration you feel at being cut off isn't enough to keep you mind from turning to mush from the kiss. His lips are so warm, his breath tastes like spearmint, and his touch gives you butterflies.

But the kiss ends all too quickly. You know he cut it short it on purpose, not wanting your brain to turn off completely before you try and drive for the first time. "Sorry, babygirl, can't give you too much. How could you drive if you're all drunk from my kisses? Hm?"

He runs his fingers through your hair, taking in how cute you look when you're speechless. A moment later, Jason releases his hold on you and turns towards his bike, walking to it with a bit of pep in his step and smugness in his grin, leaving you stammering for a second as you try and string together a coherent thought.

"F-fuck you, Jason." You say after a moment. He always knows how to shut me up.

"I love you too." He grabs his helmet and puts it on before tossing you yours. It's an easy catch, but you're still giving him a dirty look.

"Why did we have to do driving first?" You grumble, accepting your defeat. "Pretty sure seeing the pyramids was also on my bucket list. Along with an abundance of other fun things, like riding in a helicopter, or swimming with dolphins. Or what about joining the mile high club? I'd think that one would be your first priority."

Jason is beaming, watching you put your helmet on and get ready to ride. Even as you scowl at him and mutter complaints, his heart melts at how easily you folded. All it took was a kiss. He always gets his way. He knows you can't say no to him. Jason Todd has you wrapped around his finger, and the vigilante couldn't be any happier about it. He looks you up and down to admire your body before replying, "Stick with me, princess, and I'll make all your dreams come true." He promises. "One at a time. I'll show you the pyramids. I'll fuck you in a plane. But first…"

He grabs you by your waist with both hands and effortlessly lifts you up off the ground to set you down on the seat of his bike. You yelp in surprise, quickly grabbing his hands to steady yourself. "First, you gotta be brave and learn how to ride your boyfriend's bike."

⭓ masterlist ⭓

#purple-obsidian #dc comics #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #for lola #sids moots #sid answers #thanks for the ask!

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moonstruckme · 16 hours

Note

hi! What about a fic if one of the Mauraders or TASM peter with a reader who's insecure about her big boobs? Like ik everyone thinks it's ideal but honestly sometimes it really sucks when shirts don't fit right or everything looks slutty or u can't go braless or alternatively a fic about their gf overhearing someone say they r an ass man but she has a small butt?

Thank you for requesting!

cw: insecurity around breast size

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re looking in the mirror, and you want to feel good about yourself. Really, everything looks the way it should. Your hair looks better than it would on an average day, that new eyeshadow thing you tried actually turned out nicely, and your dress fits the way it’s supposed to.

Just, the way it’s supposed to fit doesn’t really seem right to you at the moment.

“Peter,” you call in the direction of the bathroom, “if I ask you about something, can you promise to be honest with me?”

You hear water splash in the shower, signaling your boyfriend is finally rinsing out his hair. In classic Peter fashion, he seems like he’s going to be late to his own banquet. Oscorp is having a formal event to recognize the achievements of their scientists this year. Peter’s done even more than most, and he’s expected to give a speech before the food comes out which you’ll be lucky to make at this rate. You were supposed to get ready together, but he’d spent the majority of the time flirting with you while you did your makeup in your pajamas.

“Duh, I’m always honest,” he calls back. The shower shuts off. “That’s why they call me your friendly, honest, neighborhood spider-man.” A pause. You wonder if he can sense the dry look you’re sending his way. “Fine, but I’m always honest with you. Shoot, sweetheart.”

“Okay.” You give yourself one final, disappointed look-over in the mirror before heading towards the bathroom door. “I’m serious, don’t sugarcoat anything, but do you think—”

The door swings open, and Peter’s right in front of you, beads of water still visible on his torso and a towel wrapped around his waist.

“—this is too slutty?” you finish, quieter, right as he blurts, “Oh my god.”

Peter blinks. His head does a tiny shake, as if trying to rid himself of a dizzy spell. “What?” he asks.

Probably not your best phrasing. “I just mean, is it too booby,” you try again. You have the urge to tuck your arms around your middle self-consciously, but you worry that would only make the boob predicament worse.

“Baby.” Peter’s still looking at you like you’re speaking another language. “What?”

You look down at your highly visible cleavage, then back up at him. “You know what I mean,” you say softly.

“Okay, speaking from a strictly male standpoint,” Peter says, unabashed as his eyes dip to where yours just where, “I can’t condone the idea that there is such a thing as too booby. But even if I was, like, a ninety-five year old conservative woman, I couldn’t—I would still think you look beautiful.”

Your heart balloons. It’s not a compliment you got much before you met Peter. Hot, sexy, sure, but not beautiful.

“God.” The word slips from your boyfriend’s mouth so softly it almost sounds like a prayer. His hands find your waist, skimming down the satiny material of your dress to rest on your hips. “You’re amazing, sweetheart. Is that the eyeshadow trick you were talking about?”

You nod, cheeks burning. “You watched me do it.”

“It looks different with the dress on,” he agrees. “Fuck. Not to be corny, but you’re seriously taking my breath away. I can’t breathe right now.”

A little laugh stutters out of you, and Peter smiles. He’s looking rather breathtaking himself, fresh-faced from the shower with a piece of damp hair still clinging to his forehead. You unstick it and comb it back in with the others already fluffed up after being toweled off. He smells like his shampoo.

“Can I kiss you,” he asks, “or will I mess up your makeup?”

“Be careful,” you warn, smiling as you lean in.

He is, but his hands give away his hunger, bunching in the fabric at the base of your spine to get you closer. He makes a low, needy sound in the back of his throat, and for half a second you wonder if it’s for your benefit but then you remember that he was right earlier. Peter is always honest with you.

You laugh when you pull away, going to get a bit of tissue paper to blot away the lipstick you’ve left on him. A glance in the bathroom mirror shows that yours is, thankfully, intact.

“Are you sure this dress will be appropriate?” you ask, less insecure now but still nervous as you wipe at Peter’s upper lip. “Regardless of how much you like it, it’s still a formal thing and I don’t want to be…indecent.” You cringe. There’s no word that sounds nice.

Your boyfriend’s brows furrow. His hands skim up your arms, and he looks like he’s about to reply when you fold the toilet paper and stick it between his lips. “Blot,” you murmur.

He does. “Baby.” He squeezes your upper arms, a silent request for you to look up at his eyes. You find them soft and earnest. “There’s nothing inappropriate about what you’re wearing. It is a formal thing, and you’re wearing a formal dress. You look beautiful.” That word again. Your cheeks burn. Peter kisses one of them. “No one is going to have anything to say about how you look other than how beautiful you are,” he promises.

You let the sincerity of his words seep into you, pooling like a warm drink in your belly. The inside of your lip finds its way between your teeth. Now you’re feeling bashful for other reasons.

It’s obvious by Peter’s grin that he can tell. He gives your arms another squeeze before moving you out of the way and going to where his clothes are laid out on the bed.

“Actually, that’s pretty convenient for me.” He discards the towel on the floor, slipping on a pair of boxers and then starting to button up his dress shirt. “You’ve just taken a whole bunch of pressure off my speech, sweetheart. No way anyone’s gonna be looking at me while I’m up there.”

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juleswritesstuff · 20 hours

Text

Starving

Basically, just Theo being the munch that he is.

theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings: smut

Enjoy💗

You had always hated Herbology with a deep passion.

Not the plants per se, those were rather fascinating to observe, but did they really need to have such a vast variety of species ? Was it actually necessary ?

Apparently it was, or Mrs Sprout wouldn't have given you a whole 600 words essay to write on every type of mandrake known to man.

Those screaming little things got on your nerves, and you could barely understand what the professor was talking about while tending to them. Hence, you were finding it extremely difficult to complete that paper.

The door of your dorm room suddenly opened and you had to restrain a curse from slipping through gritted teeth.

You had really hoped to not get interrupted.

Apparently your prayers weren't heard.

“You busy, dolcezza ?” (sweetie)

A more than familiar voice reached your ears. You lifted your eyes from your paper and they landed on none other than Theodore Nott, who was standing right in front of your door, now closed again, with a faint smirk plastered on his face.

You rolled your eyes. You knew that little grin all too well.

“Kind of, yeah” you replied, your attention going back to the paper in front of you as you started scribbling again with your quill “Aren't you ? You're in this class too, have you already finished your essay ?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Just turned it in, so I have some time to kill” he said with that cocky attitude of his.

Infuriating and charming at the same time, truly unfair.

“Good for you, then. I don't, so if you could leave me to it, it would be much appreciated” you said as a forced smile curved your lips.

“Oh, come on. You don't even have a little time ? Per me ?” he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side with the most innocent expression he could master. (For me ?)

Which didn't work because his eyes screamed trouble.

Theo looked like an angel with his brown hair curled in soft locks and eyes as blue as the ocean, although dead and emotionless looking.

Actually, he was the devil in disguise. Especially when he acted all coy like this.

“No Theo, I really don't have time for your little antics today” you said huffing.

‘His little antics’ being eating you out till tears rolled down your cheeks and your mascara was smudged and unsalvageable.

You and Theo were ‘friends’. You got along just fine, you talked, and you bickered like there was no tomorrow. It was part of your friendship, the teasing, the little harmless jokes. It was routine for the two of you.

What was also routine was the flirting.

Shameless and obvious flirting.

You never thought it would lead anywhere. You were so used to the little Italian endearments he gave you and the ever present smirk on his lips that you didn't really think anything of it.

Until one night, after one of the biggest parties that Slytherin had ever thrown, you ended up in his bed, with him between your legs eating you out like his life depended on it.

You didn't even know how you found yourself in that situation, you just knew that you hadn't minded one bit.

You ended up with shaky legs and a dizzy brain just by his tongue alone.

Saying that you didn't mind it would've been an euphemism.

The day after was awkward as hell, but you both were too direct and honest to not deal with the weird atmosphere immediately.

So you decided to add some…privileges to your relationship.

You discovered Theo had quite an oral fixation.

He needed to keep his mouth occupied with something.

Cigarettes were a great way to keep his mouth busy, but they were extremely damaging for his health.

You didn't mean to make him stop smoking, you knew it would've been basically impossible, and, if you had to be completely honest with yourself, he looked so damn hot with those death traps between his lips, but you wanted to at least try to reduce the amount of nicotine that went into his body.

And what better way than to bribe him with the second thing he loved the most in the world ?

Eating you out seemed to be his favorite hobby.

Anytime he felt the need to light one cigarette more than necessary he came to you, with that sinful smirk on his lips and the hottest ‘fuck me’ eyes he could master.

And who were you to say no ?

You had proposed the deal in the first place.

Plus, he was amazing at it too. The way his tongue worked on your cunt definitely felt like ascending to heaven.

But now you really didn't have the time.

“I'm not here because I feel like smoking, Y/n” he said walking up to you and stopping in front of the desk, leaning forward a little as he supported his weight with his hands on the table.

You made the mistake of lifting your eyes from the parchment and locking them with his. His gaze was magnetic. Once those pools of stormy sea caught you, you couldn't escape.

“Then why are you here ?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“Cause I'm starving, tesoro” he uttered with the calmest and most unaffected tone in his voice. (darling)

You narrowed your eyes.

“Then you should be in the kitchen to solve that little problem, don't you think ?” you asked rhetorically, eyes going back to focus on the parchment in front of you.

You heard him scoff, and suddenly he was leaning so much closer.

Your head was still hung low, trying to write that damn essay, but his presence was distracting as hell and you couldn't help but shiver when he leaned to whisper in your ear.

“You're right, that would be the perfect solution if I was hungry for food” he stopped and you could feel the teasing smile plastered on his face

“But all I'm craving is you and that pretty little cunt of yours, so I don't think the kitchen elves could really help me with that”

You wished you could say his words didn't affect you, you really wished.

But the sudden warmth on your cheeks and the unconscious clench of your legs told another story.

You really didn't have time for this, but your body was craving him and his touch like crazy, and you weren't sure you would've been able to focus if you didn't feel his tongue working its wonders on you.

So you sighed and pushed the chair you were sitting on a bit farther away from the desk, enough to take your knickers off and throw them somewhere behind you, then you sat back, your skirt still covering you up until your mid thighs.

His eyes darkened with lust.

“Make it quick, I have an essay to finish” you said, faking indifference.

On the inside you were burning alive.

“Quick ? It's like you don't know me at all, dolcezza” he said with a scoff as he sank to his knees, crawling until he was right in front of you.

His gaze locked in yours as his hands made contact with the bare skin of your legs, caressing them gently, tenderly.

“I'll take my sweet time with you. Ora fai la brava and open those gorgeous legs for me” you hated how fast you complied, but with the way he was looking at you you really couldn’t help yourself. (Now be good)

He lifted your skirt and he leaned forward.

As soon as his tongue made contact with your folds you melted.

You choked out a whimper, and you could feel him smirk right against your groin.

"Wipe that grin off your face, Nott, I'm only -ah fuck, I'm only doing it because you begged me” you said as he kept lapping at your core with his tongue, wrapping his lips around your clit to give it a gentle suck.

The moan that rippled out of you was almost pornographic.

“Piccola bugiarda, you know that's not true. You're doing it because you want it too” he moved his mouth from your cunt to your thighs, giving feather light kisses on the sensitive skin. (Little liar)

“You're so wet, you didn't think I would notice ?” he asked with that fucking cocky attitude that made you go crazy.

“Shut up and put that mouth to a better use” you said, but the bite in your voice was definitely toned down by the urgency and neediness of having his mouth back where you needed him the most.

His head tilted to the side as he leaned back just the tiniest bit.

“What's with the attitude, uh ?”

“No, no, no, -shit Theo. Come back here” you said, almost whining.

He was too far, and you needed him.

You needed him closer, way fucking closer.

“E come si dice ?” he teased, his eyes were dark and fogged up by lust and hunger. (And what do you say ?)

“Fuck, why do you always want me to beg ?” you asked, defeated. He leaned forward again, his breath hovering right above the tender skin as you clenched around nothing, feeling the loss of his tongue.

“Because it's fun, I love it when you beg me with that sweet mouth of yours. Plus I like seeing you flustered” he said as he started to kiss every inch and nook of your most sensitive area, avoiding where you really wanted him to.

You wanted to curse so bad, but you knew that was not what he wanted, what he needed.

“Theo -fuck. Please Theo, just touch me. Please” you surrendered, your voice whiny and broken, until a melody of moans and whimpers started to ripple out of your lips as soon as his mouth met your folds again.

And this time he didn’t stop.

He lapped at your juices like a starved man enjoying his meal for the first time in days.

He licked, and sucked, and kissed every centimeter, every inch of tender skin like he was born to do that.

Your hands buried in his soft brown locks and you tugged at them unconsciously after a particularly good roll of his tongue made you see stars.

“Cazzo, se continui così verrò nei pantaloni porca puttana” he said, hissing. His mouth kept working wonders on your cunt, his groans creating delicious vibrations on your clit. (Fuck, if you keep this up I'll come in my pants, holy shit)

“Ancora” he said between ravenous licks and delicate, teasing sucks, guttural moans leaving his lips. (Again)

“What ?” you asked, lost in pleasure. Your little knowledge of the Italian language became nonexistent when he was busy making you cry on his tongue.

“Again, baby. You know i fucking love it” he says, mouthing the words right against your core.

And so you obeyed, tugging at his hair again, a little rougher, a little harder.

A low groan left his lips.

You were close, you were so fucking close.

“Shit, Theo, baby” you moaned out loud, the term of endearment completely slipping out.

Theo seemed to notice, because he started to go faster, tongue flicking desperately at your folds.

Your breath got caught in your lungs, your ears rang and your sight turned black as you got it by pleasure.

The hand on his hair kept Theo close as you rode your orgasm on his tongue.

He lapped at your juices carefully, to not overstimulate you, leaving sweet butterfly kisses on your thighs, worshiping the skin with his lips.

Once your breathing started to go back to normal and your sight was not blurry from the pleasure anymore you looked at him.

He was still kneeling in front of you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as his eyes focused on your face.

“You look quite disheveled, principessa” he said with a chuckle, pride oozing from his features for reducing you in that state. All fucked out and breathless. (princess)

“Oh, yeah ? And whose fault is that ?” you ask in mocking shock, but you can’t help a chuckle from escaping your lips.

“And you're one to talk” you added as you took in his appearance. His eyes were still quite foggy and unfocused, his hair a mess from all the tugging and his lips.

Oh, his lips. Red and shiny with your essence and the tiniest bit swollen.

He looked too fucking good to be true.

You knew you folded too easily when Theo was involved, but you couldn’t help it.

“I told you I was starving, you underestimated my eagerness to fucking ravish you” he said with a shrug wetting his lips to savor your taste once again, like his words didn’t make you feel like you were catching fire.

That mouth of his was a menace, physically and literally.

“I’m never gonna be able to finish this stupid essay now” you said almost desperately.

He laughed at your pathetic whining, but it was a warm laugh, not one made to mock you but one that was closer to endearment.

“Was it so good that it melted your brain off ?” he asked with that cocky grin of his.

You looked at him with a deadpan expression.

“Your overly confident attitude never fails to amaze me, Theodore Nott '' you said with a chuckle. You straightened your posture on the chair, smoothing out all the wrinkles that he had left from fisting your skirt and holding on for dear life to keep your hips still.

“Now I don’t want to kick you out, but I really need to finish this”

“No need for that, tesoro, I’ll leave you to it. Wouldn’t want to distract you too much” he said, getting back up on his feet and tucking a rebellious strand of your hair behind your ear.

“See you at dinner ?” he asked.

You simply nodded your head yes.

His hand was still gently caressing your cheek, the pads of his fingers were as light as a feather as they danced on your skin.

His eyes were locked in yours, and you had no idea of what was happening.

Until his fingers reached your chin, tilting your head up the slightest bit.

Then he leaned in.

For the first time since you had started this ‘arrangement’ his lips met yours.

And they were sweeter than you thought, gentle, but there was an undertone of hunger, of neediness that you couldn’t ignore.

He tasted of nicotine and butter beer, bittersweet and addicting.

His lips were slightly chapped but you couldn’t care less about it as his tongue swiped on your bottom lip, his teeth grazing at it gently right after as he carefully bit the plump skin.

He pulled back slowly and you were left speechless.

He just chuckled at your wide eyes and agape mouth.

“Good luck on your essay, ok ? I’ll see you tonight” he left a quick kiss on your cheek before storming out of the door with a smile on his face.

Your thoughts were all over the place, because what the hell had just happened ?

Did Theodore Nott just kiss you ?

Something a little different form my usual marauders content, but he's been stuck in brain for weeks now, and I couldn't help myself 😔

And honestly, as an Italian girl, I really think Lorenzo Zurzolo should be classified as a national treasure, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

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