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ironskyfinder · 2 months

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Bounce/drop

Goonettes are one of god’s gifts to man.

Naive, doe-eyed, innocent girls who get exposure to the right kinds of filth at the right time end up as self-addicted pleasure dolls, chasing the next edge, the next rush. The only problem - for them, not for anyone else - is that often they rub themselves so dumb they can’t be trusted to edge without making mistakes and giving into pleasure, and they get to be so brainless that they need instructions on how best to corrupt themselves.

As I said, not a problem for anyone else.

Emily had still been a feminist, when she started following me - not much of one, but she still had moments where she'd go back to thinking she was equal, that she should go to college and have a career and make something of her life outside the kitchen and bedroom - and she hated it.

She mentioned, in one of her messages, that she had always wished she could make her breasts more sensitive - at a 38GG, I liked to remind her she had 'udders' - so, one of the times she asked for me to make her brain worse, I took her on an edge she still thanks me for even today.

ironskymaker [10:58PM] I wrote instructions for an edge for you, but this is a much more directed edge than just sending you gooning fuel and some degrading messages, so you’ll need to be able to narrow your attention to this so that you can respond when prompted. Understood?

ironskymaker [10:58PM] I'm not going to ask you to focus, I know you can't do that, not really.

goonette4everr [11:00PM] yes

ironskymaker [11:02PM] You’ll need to follow along closely, okay? I’m going to have you hump a pillow - I think you should use the pillow you sleep on - over and over and over, and I’m going to try and break your brain even more than usual. Ready?

goonette4everr [11:03PM] yessir

ironskymaker [11:04PM] As always, you should be naked when you edge. Take a selfie, once you are - think of it as the ‘before’ photo, so we can compare how you look once I’m done with you.

goonette4everr [11:05PM] you assume right. selfie taken.

ironskymaker [11:05PM] Face the mirror and start humping, nice and slow. Be gentle enough it’s frustrating, like I’m teasing you by holding your hips, slowing you down - just enough pressure that your clit begs for more, not enough to start you grinding mindlessly.

goonette4everr [11:07PM] ok...ok thas gonna drive me nuts

ironskymaker [11:08PM] That’s exactly the point. Light, little motions at first, enough to make you want to grumble and moan and swear because it's such a teasing sensation.

goonette4everr [11:08PM] fuck

ironskymaker [11:10PM] Good goonette, keep going. Little by little, faster and harder. Hips rocking back and forth, little by little pressing more against the pillow with those little motions. Watch yourself in the mirror, teased and frustrated but still grinding away like you’re told.

goonette4everr [11:10PM] hmmmnnn

ironskymaker [11:11PM] You’ve been craving this all week. Let yourself relax into it. You need this, turning your brain off and letting your clit think for you, edging for hours and hours until it’s all a blur. Keep humping, a little faster, a little harder - you should be starting to feel it now.

ironskymaker [11:13PM] How does your edge taste?

goonette4everr [11:13PM] goood, so wet

ironskymaker [11:14PM] Start grinding and humping faster, little by little. Every time you hump your pillow, you grind the littlest bit faster.

goonette4everr [11:15PM] hunh...feelin it now

goonette4everr [11:15PM] fuck!

ironskymaker [11:16PM] Less and less gently, keep your hips moving, faster and faster. Let the motions grow, the harder the edge gets the more you move.

ironskymaker [11:17PM] Keep going, a little harder every time you hump. Make the motions bigger, gradually starting to grind with a little more pressure each time. Harder, faster, keep grinding on your pillow. Look at yourself in the mirror and make an ahegao face, grinding extra hard and extra slow while you let your tongue hang out until the drool hits your tits.

goonette4everr [11:19PM] hnnnnnn oh ffuuuuuck

ironskymaker [11:19PM] Don’t forget to tug on your nipples a little to make them hard, if they weren’t already; don’t stop humping.

goonette4everr [11:20PM] theyr hard, mmmm god

ironskymaker [11:21PM] Pinch and pull on your teats, grind on your pillow more. Reach back and tease your asshole a little.

ironskymaker [11:21PM] Remember, all your useful parts deserve to be part of your edge - speaking of your mouth, test your gag reflex as you start humping faster and harder.

goonette4everr [11:22PM] hkkkkkkkkk

ironskymaker [11:22PM] How are you feeling, lil goonette?

goonette4everr [11:23PM] goodsogood! fukkk

goonette4everr [11:23PM] i look so dum so horni

goonette4everr [11:24PM] fuck!!

ironskymaker [11:25PM] Good! But I want you extra desperate and broken, so I’m giving you a break.

ironskymaker [11:25PM] Sit up off your pillow, so your drippy clit is nowhere near anything that might stimulate it - then hump the air, bouncing a little.

ironskymaker [11:27PM] Understood?

goonette4everr [11:27PM] whait noo

goonette4everr [11:28PM] nnnnnooo oh ok, ok, i will i will

ironskymaker [11:28PM] I know, it's hard to have self-control - but you don't need to! I'll have your self-control instead, just relax and obey.

goonette4everr [11:30PM] obeyying...is...goood....thanku sir

ironskymaker [11:30PM] Keep humping. Feel your tits swing as you bounce, feel how they want to pull you down, back onto the pillow. Grab one, suck on your nipple. Hump and grind and bounce. Grab the other and suck on both your nipples at once, then let them drop from your mouth. Hump the air a little more, bounce and let your udders drop, feel them pulling all the thoughts out of your brain.

goonette4everr [11:32PM] hnnnnnn

ironskymaker [11:32PM] Bounce and hump the air until your tits pull all the thoughts from your brain, until they pull you back down to humping your pillow.

ironskymaker [11:33PM] Doesn’t your edge feel better already?

goonette4everr [11:33PM] yyyyeesss

ironskymaker [11:34PM] Again, humping and grinding like a good girl, faster and harder. Grind your clit into your pillow as you reduce yourself to obedient holes for a stranger on the internet, like a real feminist traitor.

goonette4everr [11:35PM] i feel so slutty an stupid

goonette4everr [11:36PM] itsh shooo gooood!!!

ironskymaker [11:37PM] Look in the mirror - do you like the slut you see?

ironskymaker [11:37PM] Hump and bounce and whisper to yourself that your holes and tits are all that matter, they give you value and purpose and a reason for men to find you useful.

goonette4everr [11:39PM] i lov bein a traitor!! i luv lookin at myshelf bein a whoooore

goonette4everr [11:39PM] yessss hnnnn

ironskymaker [11:41PM] Grind even faster, even harder. You can really feel it now - you’re pressing harder, humping faster, hips moving more so you bounce - and when you bounce, your udders swing. When your udders swing, you feel your brain drain and you’re closer to just being tits and holes. Holes keep being drippy, tits keep bouncing.

ironskymaker [11:42PM] Now how does your edge taste, lil goonette?

goonette4everr [11:42PM] tassts like dspration

ironskymaker [11:43PM] Good. Keep going. Hump and bounce, letting the haze of the edge and the pull of your tits wash your mind away.

ironskymaker [11:44PM] Harder, faster, humping and grinding, leaking all over your pillow - pause for a moment, to bury your face in the wet spot you’re making, take a deep breath. Then get back on your pillow and keep humping. The smell and taste of your edge everywhere, rewiring your brain to tie that to the overwhelming pleasure you’re feeling.

goonette4everr [11:45PM] hhhnnnnn

goonette4everr [11:45PM] so dirrty

ironskymaker [11:46PM] You liked that too much not to do it again. Put your face into the pillow, rub it into the wet spot. You love how the sensation corrupts you, how it makes your edge so much stronger. Don’t you?

goonette4everr [11:48PM] fuck pleas yess

ironskymaker [11:49PM] Edging makes you feel so good, your brain can barely take it - but that’s fine, you don’t need it anyway, you don’t need to think.

ironskymaker [11:49PM] The instructions become your actions.

ironskymaker [11:50PM] Your clit isn’t there to handle big thoughts, your udders aren’t made for thinking, but you were made to obey. Keep humping and grinding, edging and bouncing, faster and harder.

goonette4everr [11:52PM] hmmm...yesh yeh no thnk...jus...edge

ironskymaker [11:53PM] The more you edge, the more you’re just drooling holes and bouncing udders. Wipe the slick juices running down your thighs all over your face and imagine tasting it on a thick cock filling your throat. Don’t stop grinding, don’t stop bouncing, keep your hips moving.

goonette4everr [11:54PM] bounc

ironskymaker [11:54PM] Wipe the slick mess from your cunt onto your nipples, pinch and pull on your teats. Keep one of your teats in your mouth, massage and milk the other. Hump and bounce and grind, let your brain go blank, then let your udder drop and suck your other nipple clean. Are you enjoying yourself?

goonette4everr [11:56PM] iy am...iam!!!

goonette4everr [11:57PM] i tayst so gud

ironskymaker [11:57PM] Does the girl looking back at you from the mirror seem like she’s having fun too?

goonette4everr [11:59PM] she dos, she looks sho happi, so blank

ironskymaker [11:59PM] I bet she looks like a porndoll. Her eyes all unfocused, sweaty, shaking, needy, her desperate clit soaking her pillow.

goonette4everr [12:00AM] mmmhmmm...such a needyslut

goonette4everr [12:00AM] shooo dum

ironskymaker [12:01AM] Time for another break.

goonette4everr [12:01AM] hnnnnnnnn!!!!

ironskymaker [12:02AM] I know you don’t want to, but - stop edging, sit up so you can hump the air like the desperate fuckmeat you are.

goonette4everr [12:03AM] yeshyesytes!

ironskymaker [12:04AM] I know you’re horny, I know you’re needy, just let your hips move against the nothing and let the ache drain your thoughts away.

ironskymaker [12:04AM] And, while you do - pick up your tits, play with them, squeeze and massage them, hold them out and then drop them.

goonette4everr [12:05AM] mmm...

ironskymaker [12:05AM] Feel that pull make you dumber. Let the things you used to call ‘important’ wash away as you start bouncing in the air, as your udders pull your thoughts out of your mind

ironskymaker [12:06AM] Did you have work today, did you have plans after, were there errands that need doing? Pick up your tits, play with them, then drop them as you bounce, and all of it is gone.

goonette4everr [12:07AM] hmmm...gone.

goonette4everr [12:07AM] allgone

ironskymaker [12:09AM] Bounce, drop. Take another selfie, see what you look like after I’ve played with your brain for less than an hour, and imagine how much more I’ll do.

goonette4everr [12:09AM] hheeehee she looksh crazi

goonette4everr [12:10AM] sush a mess!

ironskymaker [12:10AM] Hump, grind, bounce, drop. Tits don’t have plans. Holes don’t run errands.

goonette4everr [12:11AM] mmmmmm

ironskymaker [12:11AM] There’s only obedience, only edging and doing what you’re told. Bounce, drop, hump, grind.

goonette4everr [12:12AM] only

goonette4everr [12:12AM] please

ironskymaker [12:12AM] How does your edge taste now?

goonette4everr [12:14AM] sssssgud

goonette4everr [12:14AM] ssssssnice

goonette4everr [12:14AM] fuckk

ironskymaker [12:15AM] Bounce, drop. More thoughts gone, brain all drained. Hump, grind, bounce, drop.

ironskymaker [12:16AM] Bounce, drop. Take another selfie, see what you look like after I’ve played with your brain for less than an hour, and imagine how much more I’ll do tomorrow.

ironskymaker [12:17AM] The girl in the mirror just wants to keep edging and bouncing and dropping forever, and so do you. Bounce, drop.

goonette4everr [12:17AM] please ruinmy brain mroe

goonette4everr [12:18AM] hheeehee she looksh crazi

goonette4everr [12:18AM] sush a mess!

ironskymaker [12:19AM] And how are you feeling now, lil goonette?

goonette4everr [12:21AM] alll edged out, reallly hazy

ironskymaker [12:22AM] Good goonette. Bedtime, then, and no touching until the morning.

goonette4everr [12:23AM] ohh fuck yessir please tomorrow

goonette4everr [12:23AM] i can’t wait

@goonedoutdropout

#based on a real conversation #goonette #patriarchy kink #daddy's good girl #fr33use #cvmdump #bitchmaker #corruption kink #sluttraining #girlbreaking #mindfuck #edging kink #edging and denial #bimboization #dumbification #bimbofied #good girls edge #edge slvt

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heavenlyvision · 3 months

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Pairing: Bi-Han x afab!reader

Warnings: 18+ only, cockwarming, no use of pronouns, no use of y/n

Wc: >1k

I’m about to sleep but my sleepy brain thought about Bi-Han so here you go <33

MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

You’ve been sitting on Bi-Han’s lap for what feels like forever, in reality it’s probably been something like half an hour but that’s still an obscene amount of time to be sat on his lap with his cock filling you completely to the brim without any relief.

You squirm and wriggle against him and every time you do he growls at you and slaps your thigh, admonishing you for not being able to follow simple rules. You had been needy and came to him, asking for him. He had told you he was busy and had things to attend to but he would allow you to sit on his cock if you behaved.

His actual words being, “Sit on my cock nicely and without moving and I’ll give you what you want.”

Now, you’re so wet, your slick leaks down the sides of his cock, pooling in his lap. He shows no outward signs of being affected but his cock twitches every now and again. Your cunt grips him tight, warm and gooey and it’s taking all of his will power to finish up what he’s doing. He really would prefer to fuck you stupid.

Which is why he’s annoyed when you grind down into him, “Hold fuckin still, it’s one rule.”

“Mm sorry,” you manage.

He only grumbles at you, not caring for apologies, only wanting you to behave and do as you’re told.

He’s especially annoyed because if you don’t listen to him then he’s going to have to punish you, which means not only do you not get fucked but it also means he doesn’t get to fuck you and he really wants to fuck you.

Your cunt pulses around him, thighs twitching with the effort of holding yourself up. Gods, you need him so bad, maybe if you focused, you could cum on his cock like this, without even doing anything. Only cumming to your thoughts and the feel of his cock stuffing you full.

Though he’s trying to focus, you can tell he’s distracted, he’s been reading the same thing for 10 minutes and you think maybe you could get away with lifting yourself up and fucking back down onto him. You know what will happen if you don’t listen though, it’s a high risk, high reward scenario.

You’re so fucked and wet and desperate that you throw caution to the wind. The drag of his cock as you pull upwards is heavenly and you feel bliss for a few moments. As soon as you begin lifting yourself up, Bi-Han grabs your hips, growling at you as he slams you back down onto him.

He doesn’t say anything, he just uses his grip on your hips to fuck you up and down his dick like a sex toy, the feeling taking you higher. His fat cock hitting every inch of you so perfectly, you could cry, already so close to the edge after being stuffed with him for half an hour. He continues fucking you down onto his length for a few moments before he slams you down, completely flush to him all at once. All movement ceased.

You go to whine at him but he cuts you off.

“Are you incapable of listening? Now I can’t even fuck you how I was planning to.” His cock jerks inside you, “That’s the most you’ll be getting tonight, now just sit there and look pretty.”

You fucked up and now your punishment is to sit on his big dick while he does nothing to you, he’s just going to let your cunt drool on him and give you no relief. Maybe if you had behaved, you wouldn’t be in this mess.

⋆⁺₊❅.

#mk1 smut #bi han x reader #bi han x reader smut #bi han smut #bi han x you #subzero x reader smut #subzero x reader #subzero x you #subzero smut #visions blurb

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elementroar · 21 days

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Analysis behind the backstory and personal story arcs of A.B.A. and Paracelsus (part 1)

Sorry for the people who waited. Technical and real life delays and all that. On the positive, I happened to run into new resources in the past two days that have helped lining up the facts easier.

Anyway, I originally wanted to compress all the lore into a single post, but I find it’s so much more massive once you really dig into the analysis between the story across multiple mediums, the in-game animations and interactions etc. To make this more readable for you all and to make creating these posts faster, I’m going to separate them up into parts that focus on different facets of their relationship and lore as I progress through them.

This first part goes into their origins, and I hope this big post helps to thoroughly explain who/what A.B.A. and Paracelsus are, their backstories prior to STRIVE, and my own analysis sprinkled on top. I want to try to keep the info/lore dump minimal and focused, so if I mention a character without elaborating, I’ll leave a link but if I’m not elaborating more, it’s because they’re not relevant to A.B.A/Paracelsus' stories that much.

Related links:

Analysis of Paracelsus' initial bloodlust and its longlasting effects on A.B.A (Part 2)

This is the "Why ABA and Paracelsus can feel horny" lore/theory post

The beginning with A.B.A.

First off, to introduce their individual origins, it’s easiest to start with A.B.A. She’s a homunculus, an artificial lifeform created by a scientist in his mansion, which was located in the mountains of a region called Frasco or Flask. But before she was ‘born’, her creator had been taken away by the military for his skills in creating artificial life, and so A.B.A. woke up alone.

Despite this, within the 10 years she spent alone in the mansion she was able to learn to read, write, and even create some alchemical magic (seen in some of her attacks in games before -STRIVE-). It’s assumed either she was created with a set of memories and skills, or she naturally learns very quickly. It’s probably due to reading leftover journals and research materials that she even learnt her creator’s name was Paracelsus.

Technically, A.B.A. could’ve left the manor quite easily, there was even a village not far from them. However, she understood that she knew nothing about the world outside and was scared to leave the safety of the manor by venturing outside to explore the unknown world. But she did yearn for freedom and to leave Frasco, so she took to fixating on keys, which she found fascinating in being able to unlock doors to different places.

In the last bit of her 10 years in Frasco, A.B.A would accidentally cross paths with the hidden the demon axe Flament Nagel (which she would later rename to ‘Paracelsus’ in honour of her creator, or just cos that’s the only other name she actually knew).

What’s a demon axe doing here anyway?

So what is Paracelsus? He is what’s known as a magical foci, which are objects or even people that get a soul or a collection of memories/emotions/desires attached to them, which eventually leads to them gaining sentience and often supernatural abilities. They draw from the Backyard, which is basically where the information that makes up all reality is stored in the Guilty Gear world, and also the source of magic. This is the origin of ‘demons’ within the GG world, like Paracelsus.

The story of how Paracelsus/Flament Nagel ended up in Frasco actually involves the ancient Nightwalker (technically not a vampire but he's basically a vampire without the bad stuff) known as Slayer.

Now Slayer is this incredibly old, incredibly strong vampire Nightwalker, who nonetheless is a very nice guy who doesn’t need to feed on regular people because his wife, Sharon, is a deathless woman that he can feed on indefinitely without worrying about her dying.

Because of his immense age (AFAIK he’s the oldest of the main GG cast) and overwhelming power (he always holds back in-game), he has very insightful observations of Paracelsus and A.B.A.

The following screenshots are excerpts taken from the English transcript (available here) translated from the Night of Knives Vol.2 audio drama CD (you can listen to it here), and are from the perspective of Slayer recounting his encounters with Paracelsus and A.B.A.

Sometime near the end of the 100 year long war between Gears and humans known as the Crusades, Slayer was roaming a battlefield and came across a mountain of corpses of both Gears and humans. In the middle of it was a wandering blood covered warrior that was swinging an axe wildly. After confronting the man, Slayer realized that it was the axe that was the true master, the man had already lost his mind and was under its full control.

That axe called itself Flament Nagel aka the Flaming Nail, or the Sanguine Gale. I'll still be referring to him as Paracelsus at this point in time though.

Now magical foci start off simple-minded, only repeating small word fragments, and evolve over time to become more intelligent and sapient. At this point, young Paracelsus was a demon axe who had just gained sentience on that battlefield. Hot-headed and hungry for blood, and wanting to prove his combat superiority, he challenged Slayer and got curb stomped. Slayer was disappointed in how primitive Paracelsus still was in mind and soul, so he left him there to rust.

However eventually, Paracelsus was picked up from that battlefield and was sent to the alchemist Paracelsus, creator of A.B.A. We don’t know if the alchemist knew what the demon axe was, or whether he even requested him specifically for research. But the alchemist ultimately didn’t let Paracelsus out, not letting him take control over him and hiding him somewhere in the depths of his mansion.

(Inaccurate information removed, updating with A.B.A.'s JP GG World entry from XRD)

It would be after A.B.A.’s 10 year long isolation that she decided for reasons unknown, to leave the mansion and explore the outside world. By pure chance, she comes across Paracelsus, who because kinda resembled a key, she immediately picked up and she fell in love with him and decided they were married from then on.

Becoming her key

It's always been known that Paracelsus has some form of empathic abilities, and that he could tell that A.B.A. was fixated on keys and assumed the shape of a giant key to entice her to wield him. This was also the first ‘manipulation’ that Paracelsus admitted he had done to A.B.A. during their heart-to-heart talk.

It’s been further clarified in this recent interview, that it wasn’t so much Paracelsus deliberately taking the form of a key to attract ABA, but because ABA had been so heavily fixated on keys that she saw Paracelsus as a key straight away. That image she had of him as a key seemed to immediately imprint itself on him the moment she touched him, because of his true nature as “an axe (that) transforms into the owner’s image” of what his wielder wants him to be.

Slayer actually did mention this was likely the case over 20 IRL years ago in the audio drama CD, when he observed Paracelsus behaviour with A.B.A. in their second encounter.

Because A.B.A. never sees Paracelsus as a weapon, Paracelsus began to change to fit her ideal of what she saw him as, to become something more than just a weapon, and allowing Paracelsus to truly change and evolve physically and emotionally.

It’s important to note, Paracelsus isn’t bound to his wielder, and he doesn’t HAVE to allow this to happen either. Despite being dragged around by A.B.A. and acting like he has no autonomy; he actually has all the power to stop her from the start.

As Slayer notes, Para still has the power to completely take over A.B.A. 's mind and force her to do what he wants if he is truly unhappy. However he has never even threatened A.B.A. with this ability, and if not for Slayer knowing his past, no one would know Paracelsus actually can do this.

Whether consciously or subconsciously, Para was becoming more than just a demon axe from the moment he met A.B.A., and in his heart of hearts, he was begrudgingly accepting of his then situation-ship with her.

Fast forward to STRIVE and it's shown that he still continues to evolve to fulfill her 'vision' of what he is. When described as becoming more key-like, it's more obvious when you place both his old and new design side-by-side.

Notably, the blade part of his axe form has gotten smaller by STRIVE, just as he has sworn off violence and bloodshed by STRIVE.

It's even shown in how A.B.A. wields him., especially when Para partially possess or influences A.B.A. in his Muroha mode in the old games (mechanically this is the Jealous Mode in STRIVE). A.B.A. would wield him like a proper 'axe' blade-first in XX/ACCENT CORE. In STRIVE, since A.B.A. is now the dominant one in Jealous Rage mode, she doesn't wield him like an axe and now wields him by...bashing his head into people.

(Also I'll be going over the in-game animations and what they convey in a future post, don't you worry! You can view the comparison compilation here first.)

This even is shown in how A.B.A. uses Paracelsus as an actual key in her Overdrive "Keeper of the Key", which is a new move for her.

If we go further, I have speculated in this semi-crack theory that due to A.B.A. also interjecting her ideal of Paracelsus being her spouse over the years, that him actually 'reacting' to her advances now could also be an example of his evolution.

Even if he's trying REAL hard not to.

Hope this was an enjoyable read, let me know if you have any suggestions for improving readability or other stuff. Feel free to ask me questions through the inbox in the mean time that I'm working on the next part.

The next part is going to be analyzing and comparing Paracelsus' XX/ACCENT CORE Muroha mode to STRIVE's Jealous Rage mode, which has quite a bit of detail from comparing their effects on A.B.A. in in-game sprites/animations, plus how it reflects on the change in their power dynamics between games.

Edit: Part 2 available here

#guilty gear strive #a.b.a guilty gear #paracelsus guilty gear #long post is long #my analysis #arc system works #paraba #this is approximately a third or halfish of what I aimed for this week #character analysis #slayer guilty gear #daisuke ishiwatari #aba guilty gear

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wosoamazing · 2 months

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Injuries, Confrontations and Apologies

Summary: Your Ma gets hurt but pretends she is fine and ends up in hospital.

Warnings: Concussions, Vomiting, Hospitals, Angst I guess

A/N: This was meant to be a soft comfort fic but somehow it turned into this – I mean I’m not mad. Hopefully you like it.

Last Saturday a bee stung you, it made you feel icky and you had to go to the hospital. The doctors at the hospital gave your Mum’s these weird pen things. The doctors taught your Mum’s how to use them, as well as Steph and Sam for just encase. You were upset about your trip to the hospital, as it meant you had to miss the game but you get to go to the game this week.

You slept almost the whole bus ride, much to everyone’s delight, today was an important game, so with you sleeping it meant everyone could focus on the game. When you did wake up there was only 10 more minutes of the trip left, you decided to go walk down and sit next to Steph, once she realised you were trying to climb into the seat next to her she helped you up, you didn’t make any noise though, you just sat there as you took in the world around you.

In the locker room you sat in your Ma’s cubby as you ate your snacks, everyone kept looking over to you and whispering to your Mum’s that you looked extra cute today.

You were sitting on Leah’s lap, well more so her good leg as you watched the game from the bench, there was around 20 minutes of game time left when your Mum doubled over before she started losing her stomach contents on the pitch.

“Weah,” you said

“mmm” she hummed to let you know she was listening “Ma sick” you informed her pointing “What do you mean?” she asked clearly not looking at the pitch.

“I think if you stopped having a nap and looked at the pitch you would see what she means” Beth joked.

“Oh shit,” Leah said as she looked at the pitch before looking over to Beth and Viv, who just made funny faces you didn’t understand.

“We see Ma? See if okay?” You asked as the medics took her off the pitch.

“Sure munchkin,” Leah put you down, stood up and was reaching to pick you up, before she was interrupted by Beth “Leah, you can’t carry her yet, it's too risky,” “I’ll be fine beth,”

“No Leah, Beth is right, it isn’t safe, or good for you, we will come with you” Viv said in a sterner tone. Leah huffed as Beth picked you up, before the three women took you to see your Ma.

When you arrived in the medical room your Ma was laying on one of the beds with her eyes closed.

“What happened?” Leah asked without warning, slightly startling your Ma.

“I started feeling a little dizzy and then next thing I knew I was throwing up” she replied.

“So, what you actually mean is that when you got hit in the head and feel backwards onto the pitch hitting your head again, you actually did feel it and really should’ve gone off then, but you wanted to keep playing so you risked your own health” Viv said as though your Ma was in trouble.

You stayed with your Ma until the game finished, you kept yourself entertained with a glove that Beth blew up.

____

When you got home your Mum told you to go play in your playroom for a bit, which you did, she then came in to talk to you. “Ma isn’t feeling too well, but you can see her if you want,” “O-tay, I go now?” “Yeah, you can, but you have to make sure to keep the lights off and be very quiet, and try not to move much, okay?” “O-tay,” you toddled down the hall and into your Mum’s room to see your Ma, while your Mum put some washing on.

“Ma,” you whispered as you walked up her side of the bed, her eyes slowly opened and she did some slow blinks, before she spoke.

“No Y/N, go away,” she said harshly, you quickly spun around as tears started rolling down your cheeks and ran out of the room, crashing into your Mum’s legs as your eyes were full of water and you couldn’t see.

“What’s wrong?” “M-Ma, said go way,” “Oh baby, I’m sorry,” your Mum said as she wiped some of your tears away, but as soon as she could wipe the old ones away new ones replaced them “How bout I put you on the couch and you can watch some frozen while I speak to your Ma.” You perked up at the idea of frozen and quickly nodded your head, your Mum put you down on the sofa and turned frozen on before she quickly filled one of your sippy cups with water and gave it to you. “I’ll be back okay,” you just nodded your head not really listening to her anymore because frozen was playing.

“Why did you tell Y/N to go away, you really upset her,” your Mum questioned your Ma.

“I feel like shit Cait, and I don’t want Y/N to, I don’t know” she huffed.

“I know you feel like shit, but it’s partly your fault, and it doesn’t give you the right to push everyone away who is just trying to help you and it especially doesn’t give you the right to get mad at your daughter and tell her to go away when all she was trying to do was help, I’m going to take y/n to the park, I’ll will be back in a bit, if you need anything please call me, I will come back and help, anything at all, I promise, but Beth and Viv have offered to take her to the park so I’m going to walk her around there,” before your Ma could say anything your Mum had walked out of their bedroom door.

____

“Katie, Babe, I just came back to check everything is alright, Y/N is still at the park with Beth and Viv” Caitlin said as she walked through the door, there was no response, “Katie, Babe,” the house was oddly silent, so she walked further through the house. “Shit, Katie,” Caitlin exclaimed as she rounded the corner to find Katie passed out in the middle of the floor, “Katie, babe, wake up” she shook Katie to wake her up.

“What, oh God,” Katie said as she woke up, she quickly got up off the floor and ran to the toilet before hunching over it, emptying the remains of her stomach’s contents.

“Why didn’t you call? You shouldn’t have gotten up and walked around,” Caitlin wondered what the point in asking that question was. Of course she didn’t call, she doesn’t ask for help and constantly pushes help away when she is offered it.

“Because you were mad,” Katie replied through gags. Shit she thought to herself. Was this her fault?

Katie stopped throwing up but soon passed out again, Caitlin quickly grabbed her phone and called Leah, in which Kim answered.

“Kim, Leah, I need your help. I’ve fucked up but that can be explained later, Katie needs to go to the hospital because I found her passed out and when I woke her up, she ran to the toilet and threw up heaps before she passed out again, but she isn’t going to listen to me, please help.” Caitlin stopped talking while her captains must’ve been talking, “Okay thank-you, I’ll go unlock the door, we’re just in our bathroom. Beth and Viv have Y/N.”

____

Thankfully the girls had been directed to a private waiting room, meaning they didn’t have to worry about fans.

As Beth and Viv walked into the room Leah and Kim looked at them in confusion, “We called Steph, she called Sam, Y/N is staying at Sam and Kristie’s, we told her it’s just a last-minute sleepover type thing. Steph is on her way here now.” Kim and Leah nodded with slight relief, hoping Steph would be able to talk to Caitlin, and maybe calm her down. She had been pacing the length of the room, wiping away her tears as they fell since they arrived.

Steph arrived and looked at the four women before her gaze moved over to Caitlin, she cautiously approached her and gently put a hand on her shoulder as she softly said, “Hey Cait, can you sit down for me,” Caitlin looked up at her and just about broke, almost collapsing in the chair behind her.

“I’m so stupid, this is all my fault” she blurted out.

“This isn’t your fault, this is her fault, she is the one that played with a concussion and made it worse, she is the one that didn’t ask for help when you told her too,” Steph said as she put her arm around her shoulder and rubbed her hand up and down her arm, trying to comfort her.

“Yeah, but I left her alone, I left her alone after I got mad at her, I left the person who doesn’t take help let alone ask for it alone, with instructions to call the person who just got mad at her for help, what was I thinking she would’ve never called for help anyway let alone after I just got mad at her. I, I can’t believe I was so dumb to think that, I literally left her to fend for herself, what if she had hit her head on something on the way down, she could’ve died, I could’ve killed her, oh god, I can’t believe I just did that, I shouldn’t have done that, I shouldn’t have left her alone,” She blurted out, she leant into Steph’s side before continuing, “I was, I was,” she stammered before taking a few deep breaths as she suddenly felt sick “I’m going to be sick” Steph quickly reacted and thankfully as they were in a hospital there was just about sick bags on all the walls, in little dispensers. Steph rubbed her back as she lost some of her stomach contents, before Beth handed her a bottle of water which she took a small sip from. “Can you please lie down for me?” Steph asked, concerned for her friend, Caitlin did as she said and rested her head in Steph’s lap, falling asleep.

_____

Viv was in Katie’s room as she woke up, sitting on a chair at the side of the bed, she started to speak before Katie could. “I’m really disappointed in you, you really need to learn to let people help you, it’s not weak, Caitlin is literally out there in an absolute state, she literally made herself sick because she feels like such a crap person for getting mad at you and leaving you, when in reality she did nothing wrong, she left you with strict instructions to call for help. You do realise if she hadn’t come back when she did we could be in a very different situation. You might not even be here. In all honesty McCabe it’s hard when we try and help you and all you do is push us away, so I can’t even imagine what it is like for Caitlin, I get it you’re mad at the world in these situations, I’ve been there we all have, but you can’t push people away, especially the people in your life who love you the most, Caitlin absolutely adores you and for the most part you two have a great relationship but currently she is out there in shambles because she offers and offers when you need help and you don’t take, I don’t understand it.”

Katie couldn’t reply to that, Viv was right, there was nothing to do or say, other than to apologise to Caitlin who wasn’t there.

After quite a lot of awkward silence Katie spoke “Where’s Y/N?” “She is having a fun sleepover at Kristie’s and Sam’s, that’s all she knows.”

_____

Caitlin walked in hesitantly, her hair was a mess, her cheeks were tearstained, she had big bags under her eyes. Katie started crying, knowing it was her fault her girlfriend was looking this bad. Caitlin walked over to where the chair was sitting next to Katie’s bed, she sat down in it as she took Katie’s hands in hers before taking a deep breath.

“Katie, I’m sorry I left you alone, I didn’t know it was this bad, if I did I wouldn’t have ever left you alone, no matter how angry I was. But this is why you need to communicate with people, with me Babe. It’s dangerous when you don’t tell us how you are feeling. You could’ve died.” she sighed before continuing “I just don't understand why you won't accept help, needing help isn't a weakness it’s normal. I love you, I want to help you, try and help you feel slightly better. I’m not going to judge you or complain or tell you that you’re overreacting. I just want you to let people help you, at least let me help you, please” she kissed Katie’s hands and let them go. Katie sat up shifting forward in the bed, before she looked longingly up at Caitlin, who realised this was Katie asking for her help, even though she wasn’t using her words, it was a start. Caitlin climbed onto the bed and situated herself behind Katie, placing her legs either side of her before pulling her in towards her, Katie rested her head back to rest in the crock of Caitlin’s neck.

“I’m sorry Cait, I love you,” was all that Katie whispered in her ears before her eyes fluttered shut.

Caitlin awoke to the sound of gagging, she quickly grabbed the sick bowl and placed it in front of Katie before helping her to sit up slightly, Caitlin rubbed her back, as she dry heaved.

“Cait, help” Katie managed to say through gags, she sounded as though she was in tears, Caitlin pressed the call button, “I know babe, it’s not nice, but I’m here, I’ve got you, you’ve got this, you’re going to be okay,” Katie stopped and collapsed back into Caitlin, as they nurse walked in, she spoke to Katie, however her words were more directed too Caitlin “I’ll give you some anti-nausea medication,” she said, before she started sifting through draws, once she found it she put it into Katie’s IV and said, “hopefully that helps but if it doesn’t let us know and we will try and figure something else out.”

“Thank you,” Caitlin said as she smiled at the nurse who was walking out of the room. The pair very quickly fell asleep again, their day had been hectic to say the least, leaving the both of them exhausted.

It was the third time that night that Katie had woken up dry heaving, the second time it happened she was sent for another MRI to check she didn’t have a brain bleed or a clot, it came back clear, so they gave her antihistamines to see if they did anything, but they apparently didn’t. “Cait, please” Katie cried out.

“I know babe, I wish it would stop too, I wish I could make it stop, but I’m here and I’ll stay here, I love you, it’s okay, I’ve got you, you’re doing great babe,” Caitlin said trying to reassure her girlfriend as she continued to dry heave. Caitlin eventually pressed the Nurse’s call button again as Katie hadn’t stopped, after consulting with a few doctors and specialists they decided to give Katie more anti-nausea medicine even though she had had the maximum amount, thankfully they did the trick and Katie stopped, allowing the pair to sleep through the rest of the night.

_____

You sat on the floor of the living room in your house playing with your toys, as Steph sat on the couch, watching over you, when you heard a familiar car engine pull into the driveway, a few moments later you heard Keys in the door unlocking it as Steph said “That’s your Mum and Ma,”.

As the door opened you tensed up, not knowing what your Ma might say to you, you saw your Ma standing next to your Mum and you ran upstairs into your room.

Your Mum and Steph helped your Ma into her room and got her all sorted before Steph left, telling them to call her if they needed anything. Your Mum told your Ma she was just going to check on you quickly and then she would be back.

Your Mum opened your door and saw your sobbing body splayed out on your bed, she picked you up. You tried to fight her hold but she just tightened her grip causing you to give in.

“Ma doesn’t want me,” you sadly say.

“Oh Monkey, that’s not true, your Ma was feeling very icky and that made her mad,” she said wiping the hair out of your face.

“Like it always does?” you question, your Ma had never been so mad when she was icky that she made you go away.

“Yeah but extra mad. But we have talked and she is going to try and not get so made when she is icky. Do you want to see her? I think she would like to see you,” you nodded hesitantly and you were carried into their room. The light was very dim in there, but your Ma could still see your red tear stained cheeks and your puffy eyes, and she felt very angry with herself.

“I’m super sorry Munchkin, I shouldn't have yelled at you to go away, you were only trying to see if I was okay,” she said as your Mum put you down on the bed, you didn't reply to her, but instead crawled over to her and curled into her side, falling asleep almost immediately. Your Ma was confused by you falling asleep so quickly, and furrowed her brows at your Mum who answered her.

“Sam messaged me this morning, said she didn’t sleep very well last night, go to sleep I might too, but let me know if you need anything please.”

“I love you, Cait, thank you, for everything,” Your Ma said, before your Mum leant over to place a quick kiss on her lips. They both quickly joined you in sleep.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #Katie McCabe x Child!Reader #Caitlin Foord x Child!Reader

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mamas-ethereal-gun · 2 months

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𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𐙚🧸ྀི

Actor!Kento Nanami x Fashion Designer!Black fem reader

‘10 things Nanami Kento can’t Live without ┃GQ’ was the title of the video that blew everything off. It started fairly normal, with Kento showing things such as his glasses and his favourite tie. But all things went out of proportion when he showed his wedding ring.

“This is.” He points to his ring. “My wedding ring. As of now I’ve been married for…” he thinks for a moment. “Almost 4 years now.” A small smile and a pinkish blush begins to take over his face. In the background you can hear someone ask if Kentos wife is also pretty popular, which he replied “I would say so, she’s a pretty famous Designer, in fact almost all of the suits I have worn to events were made by her.”

This specific clip took the internet by storm trying to figure out who this mystery woman is. Even looking at some of Nanamis old “Get ready with me to go to the Met Gala” videos. Once they Finally found out that it was you, it could’ve made anyone slap their heads because the only fashion shows Nanami would be seen at were yours. There’s clips of you and him talking after shows yet, no one could’ve guessed that you were married to the famous actor.

. You didn’t necessarily pay much attention towards your and Kentos little “outing”. You had other things to focus on, such as your new fashion line. This line to months to make and you’d be damned if you let Kentos littles fans distract you.

“Darling..?” Kento called out. It was so silent. Unusually silent. Right about now, youd probably be running into his arms. Placing soft kisses all of his face. And yet you were no were to be found. Your shoes were at the door so you could’ve gone out right? He walked around stepping over left over fabrics and lace. Until he finally found you laying on your shared bed, manikins stood tall next to you. They were filled with beautiful suits and gowns.

“Ken…?” You called out, lifting your head up to check who was at the door. “Angel are you alright?” He asks, walking towards the bed. You grown. “Okay sit up” He pulls you onto his lap and places kisses all over your face. “Yeah I’m okay.” You say bluntly, rubbing your head. It was obvious that you were in fact, not okay. “It doesn’t seem like it.” He mumbles. He turns to your designs. “They’re beautiful Darling.” “No they’re not. That one.” You point to one of the suits. “Looks obnoxiously plain and the other…” you point to another suit. “That one is just ugly.”

“Are we looking at the same thing?” Kento chuckles. “They are amazing (y/n), I personally think they are your best ones yet. ” “I just feel-“ Kento places his figure on your mouth, shushing you. “They’re amazing, you’re amazing”He pulls you into a passionate kiss. He smiles. “I love you Angel.”

➽─────────❥ ➽─────────❥

A/n 𐙚🧸ྀི: sorry I’ve been gone for so long, sorry has lowkey been so hectic and I’ve just been exhausted😭 this was really rushed but I have a x reader thingy coming guys 😼😼😼

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soraontop · 2 months

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II. I WON’T SAY (I’M IN LOVE)

title i won’t say (i’m in love)

summary it’s that first “oh. oh.” moment for sora. chapter 2 to ‘10 things i hate about you’ series

genre fluff, angst, slice of life ???

characters jung sora (8th female member oc of enhypen), jake sim, brief cameos of other enhypen members xx

warnings poly ot7 enhypen au with 8th female member. sora is difficult and emotionally stunted. feelings realization. implications of sora’s not so great home life.

words 3,033

note sorry im a professional procrastinator thats why it took forever 😭 this just isnt my only focus sjfndjd i focus on so many things at once lmao. anyways, pls let me know what u guys think and if theres anything yall wanna see ?? like in the past or present time !!

PREVIOUS.

ISEULLIE: sora check out this video LOL it’s hilarious

ISEULLIE: [link]

Sora stares down at her phone, the YouTube video thumbnail staring back up at her. scorpioz being scorpioz, the title said with the thumbnail saying ‘sorajake being sorajake’. Her brows furrow, eyes darting between the picture of her and Jake mid-laugh, staring at one another over the heads of the other boys.

She curiously clicks the link, and it’s a matter of fifteen seconds before she’s giggling at her phone. She never responds to Iseul until later. In her head, she can’t even hear the bustling noise of Jay making lunch for the group and her members shouts— not that she paid much mind to it, anyway. She grew up as the only girl in a family full of boys, she could typically deal with the noise. The video sends her into a whole new world of Engene made videos of the group, mostly watching the ones concerning her. Almost every video she watches includes Jake. A lot.

She’s never realized how much she really talks to or about Jake. Yes, she’s thought about the ‘what if?’ question that Jake was never in her life and how she’d deal without him. (Her answer: She couldn’t.) But for there to be so many parts to a video series titled “Reasons to Ship JakeSora” was a bit ridiculous.

A knock on her door interrupts her watching, making her sit up in shock before she quickly swipes out of the app and clears her throat, glancing around her room for anything out of place— as if that would tell on her for watching fan made videos of her and her members. Oh, she thinks she’d genuinely die if she was caught. She can never do that again.

“Come in,” she says, hoping the person behind the door wouldn’t notice the waver in her voice. The knob turns and the door opens, revealing Jake standing with a cup of steaming hot ramen in hand. She blinks. Speak of the devil …

Jake grins that stupid crooked smile, kicking the door shut behind him gently. “You haven’t eaten all day, are you going on strike?” Amusement shines in his eyes and she rolls her eyes, an automatic response at this point. He’s almost as bad as Sunghoon, she swears. He holds out the ramen and a pair of chopsticks to her.

“Just too lazy to get up,” she manages to bite back a grin as her lips threaten to twitch. She takes it carefully, blowing on it gently and looks up at the older boy. “Thank you.” She tries not to spit the words out as if they’re poison, but old habits die hard.

Jake notices, but he doesn’t mention it. “Do you want to go watch a movie?” He asks instead, seemingly holding his breath for her reaction.

Sora smiles slightly, feeling her heart warming in her chest, “Yeah, what are we gonna watch?” She grabs her phone and ramen, shoving the phone in her pajama shorts for a free hand.

“I meant, like,” he waves his hand at her, fumbling for the words, “Outside. At a theater.” He then hastily clarifies, “With me.”

“In public?” Sora blinks, surprised. He wants to go out in public with her where it’s inevitable for a fan or some to catch them. Yes, they were seen in public all the time but that was when it was for a schedule. He nods silently.

Strangely enough, to her, it was more intimate to be seen out together without any staff or other members. It meant that he wanted to be seen with her in public.

For a brief, panicky moment, her heart stops at the thought.

Swallowing the taste in her mouth with a bite of ramen, she slowly nods, “Okay. What movie?”

Jake proceeds to ramble on about the movie, what it was about, who was starring in it, what he liked about the trailer. She tries to listen, she really does— but she suddenly finds his lips a lot more interesting. Without even meaning to, her eyes keep dropping from his eyes to his mouth, watching as he’d momentarily pull his bottom lip between his teeth as he thought about something before saying it.

Horror suddenly fills her chest once she realizes what she’s doing, eyes widening and a small gasp leaving her mouth. Jake, who hears, stops, looking at her in concern, “What? What is it?”

Sora’s face goes blank. “Nothing, the ramen just burned my tongue.”

Jake looks more concerned now, “Shit, I’m sorry, Sora.” He starts to lean forward and she tenses, looking at him with wide eyes as he … tries to inspect her mouth? What the hell was happening? Why was he so concerned? “Is your tongue OK? Let me see—”

Sora was already panicked with how close he was— imagine how much that tripled when he cupped her cheek and tried to urge her to open her mouth. Her heart pounding was so loud in her ears that it blocked out everything else Jake was saying. She didn't know what she was thinking, all she knew was that she had to get away from him and fast, preferably before her heart burst out of her chest.

In her haste to get away, she completely forgot about the cup of ramen in her lap and didn’t secure it before jolting up. With a painful gasp, the ramen tips over and spills over her clothes and bed. To prevent from letting out any other painful mutters, she bit down on her tongue— hard. It wasn’t as bad as she had previously said it was, but it was still warm— warm enough to hurt badly.

“Shit! Sora—” Jake bolts up after her, looking at her soaked clothes with wide eyes. “Fuck, fuck— are you OK?!” He doesn’t wait for her reply before he’s shouting out into the dorm, “Hyung! Jay! Jungwon! Sora’s hurt!”

Oh, don’t tell them that, Jake! A voice in her head groans. She never wants to worry them.

Sora faintly notices the lull of conversation from the boys outside, before she hears multiple loud footsteps rushing towards her room. She shakes her head as her door is pushed open, revealing the rest of her members crowded in the doorway. Jay pushed himself to the front, closely followed by Heeseung and Sunghoon with wide, frantic eyes.

She tries to reassure them that she’s OK, that it’s just a little spill, and a little of a burning, but nothing she’s never handled before. But their voices are overlapping, asking what happened, if she was OK, and Jungwon was rushing in with two towels, quickly wrapping one around her and putting one on the floor to clean up the ramen.

Sora blinks at the noise, getting tired of hearing the same questions so she huffs, raising her voice as she shouts, “Shut up!”

The boys shut up. Sunghoon, even in his worry, manages to raise his eyebrows and point a finger at him as if to ask, “Me?”

She breathes out, looking down at her now dirty clothes, “Thank you. I’m fine. It’s just a little spill.”

“A little spill?” Heeseung asks in disbelief, “Your skin’s red because of how hot it is, Sora.”

She looks down again, tilting her head to see the redness Heeseung claims to see. “Huh.” She murmurs, seeing how unusually red her skin was. “Well … It doesn’t feel that bad.”

“You’re going to feel it in a minute,” Jay quickly grabs her by the wrist gently, pulling her out of her room, passing by the concerned Sunoo and Niki. Her skin tingles where he grabs her, and she’s not so sure the redness on her skin is from the ramen anymore. “Hurry, go take a shower— No hot water. We’ll clean this up, don’t worry.”

“Oh, no, really, I’m fine,” Sora laughs lightly, shaking her head, “Like, it’s really not even that bad—”

Sunghoon doesn’t even bother letting her finish her sentence, picking her up and basically dragging her to the bathroom. She can feel Jake’s apologetic and worried eyes on her as she’s dragged out of her own room. “Hey!” She quickly hits him lightly on the shoulder, “Let me go!”

“Alright,” he shrugs, letting Niki push open the bathroom door and quickly shoves her in. She whirls around just in time for the bathroom door to shut in her face.

Her mouth drops open, “Sunghoon!”

“Sunghoon Oppa,” he corrects.

“You earn that title!” Sora hits the door lightly, trying to wiggle the doorknob, but it doesn’t open, “Let me out! I’m OK, please don’t clean it up, I’ve got it!”

“Already started,” Niki’s voice comes through the door, “Too late. Get in the shower before it gets worse, noona, please.”

“Don’t be dumb,” Jungwon chastises her lightly next, “You know it’s the smart thing to do.” She can’t help but feel appalled, again.

“But—”

“No buts!” She can hear Heeseung shout from her room.

Sora resists the urge to throw a tantrum like she would have nearly six years ago. She sighs, the warmth now a dull ache. “I don’t even have clothes to change into!”

“We’ll get you new clothes,” Sunoo reassures her from outside the door now.

“Don’t go through my room!” She says loudly, starting off as a shriek before she forces herself to quieten down. It reminded her too much of her old self. “Just let me out and I’ll—”

“Let you out so you can lock yourself in another room?” Sunghoon sounds somehow both amused and serious now, and she has no idea how, “Get in the shower, Sora.”

“I’ll get you clothes, Sora,” Sunoo says gently, then there was a light thump on the door. She wonders if he’s resting his head on the door like she is. (He is.) “Don’t worry, I won’t snoop or anything.”

“I know, but …” Her voice is uncharacteristically weak, “Just … Get me a shirt and pants, please. I’ll get the rest …” She feels awkward saying it, her brothers were far too young to even want to help her with anything. She wasn’t used to this, being taken care of. She didn’t like it. She also just didn’t want any of the boys going through her room and finding things she never wanted them to see.

There’s a pause, and then footsteps walk away from the bathroom door, but she can tell one or two people are still on the opposite side.

“Sunoo’s getting your clothes,” Sunghoon murmurs, and there’s another pause, “Don’t be stubborn. You know we just want to help.” His footsteps then walk away, too, and she finally relaxes, swallowing as she turns to face the bathroom mirror. The mirror is slightly still fogged from whoever took a shower earlier, and she swipes at it with her hand to look at her body clearly.

She winces at the redness on her arms and thighs, knowing from experience that it would hurt way less later on. She had no idea how she was going to explain this to their managers.

“Sora,” she jumps when she heard Jake’s soft voice on the other side, turning as if she could see him. She slowly walks closer to the door as he says, “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for it to spill on you.”

“It’s OK,” she shakes her head, frowning to herself. “It wasn’t your fault at all, I’m the one who spilled it.”

“But I brought it to you—”

“It should’ve been on the table,” Sora says it like it’s final, leaving no room for an argument. Jake doesn’t reply for a moment and she wonders if he left, but she didn’t hear him walk away.

“Still, it must’ve hurt a lot,” Jake insists.

“I’m used to it,” the words come out of her mouth before she can even think it through. She visibly recoils once she realizes, mouth parting in shock as she starts to frantically look around as if it’d give her an excuse on why she said that. “I— Uh—”

“What do you mean?” Jake asks, his tone being mixed of confusion and cautiousness, and she can imagine him standing on the other side with that cute confused look he gets. She curses herself for somehow managing to think about something like that in a situation like this. It’s just the videos getting to her, she knows it.

Sora sighs, “I just mean I’ve been cooking for a long time, remember? My mom taught me young.” Kind of, but this time she keeps the truth to herself.

“Oh, right,” Jake laughs, sounding relieved. “You know, I thought for a second …” Don’t say it, don’t say it. “You know what? Nevermind. Just … I’m sorry, OK?” Before they can get into another little argument over the same topic, she hears his footsteps walking away.

Sora wants to scream. Her face falls into her hands, slumping against the door. Her hand comes back and lightly smacks herself on the head, “Why, why, why …” So stupid of her to be so careless. They didn’t need to know anything in her home life. That was a mistake.

Why did she feel so compelled to just spill her guts out to Jake? That was the last thing she needed was for him to know anything in general. Sure, the basic stuff about her was fine, but he, nor the others, needed to know anything about her home life. She knew they’d overreact, and she just wanted life to slow down a bit so she could catch her breath.

Forcing herself off the door, she sighs loudly and starts the cold water.

Sora really can’t understand why she’s doing this to herself.

She really does try her best to not avoid Jake the next few days, she doesn’t want him thinking she blames him for the spill, but she also just … needs space. Every time he touches or jokingly flirts with her, even when he just talks to her or says her name, her heart starts pounding and her face gets warm. She’s tired of it, and needs a break. So if she stays close to Sunoo or Heeseung for the majority of the next week, he doesn’t think anything of it.

It’s the middle of the week, and ENHYPEN are at dance practice, already practicing for their first comeback despite still in the middle of promotions for Given-Taken. Sora is ever so unsuspecting, pushing her hair back up with a ponytail as the only sound in the room was her and her members’ loud out of breath panting. The choreographer claps once, “Good job, guys. See you tomorrow, yeah?”

Sora forces herself to respectfully bow as her members do, waving goodbye to the staff and choreographer that leave. The only people in the room now are the group and their managers, Wooseok and Hyosun, and she glances around to see that Wooseok is calling someone and Hyosun is texting. She turns to look for her water bottle that was no longer in the same place it was before, but is startled when two water bottles were presented to her at the same time.

Feeling a creeping sense of dread, she presses her lips together and looks up, finding both Jay and Jake holding out bottles of water to her. She glances between the two, who glance at her and then to the waters and then to each other. Both of their hands move like they’re going to take it back, but when they both catch what the other is doing, they freeze.

“Um,” Sora murmurs, feeling awkward as her face heats up, mostly out of embarrassment and slightly flustered. She doesn’t like the position she’s in, at all. She notices movement in the corner of her eye and turns her head to see Niki holding up her lilac water bottle in his hand slightly from his spot against the wall. “Yeah, thanks but …” She gestures to Niki, quickly grabbing it from him and starting to chug it down. Half because she really was thirsty, the other half because she wanted to ignore the situation.

Avoiding eye contact with the other members, who were watching the awkward moment, she sits in between Heeseung and Sunoo. Pressing the cool bottle against her cheek, she waits a few moments before looking back up to see if anyone was still staring at her.

Her eyes connect with Jay’s and she abruptly turns her head back to the floor, feeling her face get impossibly hot, even with the water bottle. She feels like she just got caught doing something she shouldn’t have done.

There had to be something seriously wrong with her.

“Your face is really red,” Heeseung whispers from beside her, and she turns her head to stare at him. He blinks. She blinks before turning her head back to the floor.

“Yeah, we just got done practicing,” she mutters, swallowing. She’s afraid if she stares any longer, he’ll be able to know what she’s thinking.

Here’s the thing— Sora isn’t dumb. She was placed in the top three of her class, and she was sure to get into any university she wanted. She’s also been in a relationship before, she’s had plenty of crushes— she knows. But she can’t.

Not when they’re her members.

If it were anyone else, she wouldn’t think much into it and would let it pan out.

And it wasn’t even just one of them. It was two. She really was proving netizens right. And she hated it. So what was she going to do?

Ignore it and hope it goes away. And if not, well … She was pretty sure that plan would work. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if it didn’t.

As long as she remains strictly platonic with her members, everything would be fine. She’s worked too damn hard to get where she is now, she’s been through two survival shows, and she wasn’t going to go on another one again. She would succeed in her dream.

Still, she seems to forget that the heart wants what it wants.

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solarmorrigan · 3 months

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Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 12 (End!)

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Ao3

[Warning for brief references to sex; nothing explicit happens]

For the first time in a long time, Steve wakes slowly.

His alarm isn’t blaring at him and neither is his brain; it’s quiet, and the room is filled with morning sun, and Steve is warm, and comfortable, and still a little muzzy with the heavy sort of sleep that usually only comes to him when he’s physically exhausted or feeling safe (usually the former).

He blinks at the blurry mess of color that is his wallpaper and tries to remember what day it is, tries to will himself to get up, because he’s sure there’s something he’s supposed to be doing, but it’s hard. He’s so comfortable. He turns his face further into his pillow, pressing in where it’s warm and firm and– breathing.

Steve sits up.

Beside him, Eddie is still asleep, lying sprawled across the mattress with one arm flung half over the side and the other stretched out where it had been curled around Steve’s back before Steve pulled away. There’s a red mark on his chest where Steve’s head had been resting, and he’s sure there’s a corresponding splotch of red on his cheek.

As the sleepy fog finally lifts from his brain, the previous night filters back in, and Steve can’t help the smile that follows. He shifts a little just to feel the pleasurable ache in his muscles, to feel the warmth of the cocoon of sheets around them, to feel the way the mattress dips beneath the weight of a second body, and sighs contentedly.

He’s just considering lying back down when Eddie groans, a drowsy frown pulling at his face.

“Where’d you go?” he asks, eyes still closed (at least, Steve’s sure that’s what he means to ask; it comes out a little more like “Whrd y’go?”, and he’s pleased that his ability to decipher Eddie’s half-awake mumbling hasn’t suffered in its absence of use).

“I didn’t go anywhere, I’m right here,” Steve says, laying his palm over Eddie’s chest and running his thumb along the ridge of his collarbone.

Eddie hums, bringing his hand up from over the edge of the bed to place it over Steve’s. “‘s too early to be awake,” he mutters, a little more coherent this time. “Come back.”

“It’s not even that early. It’s…” Steve ducks and squints a little to bring his alarm clock into focus, everything still a little blurry without his contact lenses in. “Holy shit, it’s past ten.”

“See? Early.” Eddie reaches up with his free hand to pat around for a hold on Steve’s arm so he can tug at him. “Lay back down.”

“I never sleep this late, what the hell,” Steve mutters, and Eddie finally opens his eyes, giving Steve a grin that’s equal parts sleepy and self-satisfied.

“Wore you out, didn’t I?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah, I’m exhausted,” Steve deadpans, before proceeding to flop back down onto Eddie’s chest, smirking at the little ‘oof’ he earns. “I don’t know if I can even move. Hope you don’t have to pee anytime soon.”

Eddie shrugs. “Eh, if I do, it’s your bed, not mine.”

“Ew. Dude.” Steve props himself back up on his elbow in order to wrinkle his nose at Eddie.

“You’re the one who brought it up,” Eddie says with a smirk, and – shit, Steve’s really missed this.

Eddie is one of the only people in the world Steve feels like he can completely be himself around. He’s second only to Robin (everyone will always be second to Robin, that’s just a given), and that’s what had devastated Steve most when he’d heard what Eddie had to say about their relationship. He thought he’d let Eddie see all of him, and Eddie hadn’t seen anything worth wanting.

Worth loving.

But that, apparently, hadn’t quite been the case.

“Hey,” Eddie calls Steve’s attention back, picking his hand up off his chest to press a kiss to the back of it. “Where’d you go?”

No, that hadn’t been the case at all.

Steve shakes his head. “Nowhere,” he promises. “I’m right here.”

He leans down for a kiss, and Eddie pulls their combined hands aside to meet it, bringing his free hand up to curl into Steve’s hair, cradling the back of his head.

It isn’t as though all the hurt has healed – all of Steve’s doubts and insecurities haven’t magically disappeared. As much as Steve might wish, it isn’t as though the last several weeks never happened. They can’t change any of that now, but Eddie’s honesty, his openness– openness from them both will take them a long way forward.

The idea still sits as a bit new to Steve: honesty. He’s used to people saying one thing and doing another. He’s used to being expected to decipher convoluted social cues and having to intuit unspoken messages. He’s used to not being allowed to ask for what he wants and just accepting whatever he’s given.

This, he thinks, will be better.

The kiss doesn’t end so much as it slides into another, and another, until Eddie and Steve have rolled to their sides, legs tangled together beneath the blankets, mouths sliding against one another, lazy and unhurried. There’s a hint of heat beneath their movements, something that could spark into more if they let it, but Steve is content with just this for now. There will always be time for more later.

Eddie hums deep in his chest when the kisses trail to an end, voice still warm and sleep-rough, and Steve rests his forehead against Eddie’s, unwilling to go too far away just yet.

“Good morning,” Steve says when Eddie opens his eyes again, and he can feel the puff of Eddie’s sigh against his lips.

“Don’t say that,” Eddie whines. “If you say that, we have to get up.”

Steve gives a little laugh. “We can’t stay in bed all day, Eddie.”

“Sure we can,” Eddie drawls, pushing at Steve’s shoulder until he takes the hint and rolls onto his back, only to have Eddie lay down on top of him, pressing him into the mattress. “In fact, I think that’s a great idea.”

“Do you seriously have no other plans for the day?” Steve asks, as if he has any pressing engagements himself.

Eddie presses a kiss to the base of Steve’s throat, humming thoughtfully. “Maybe one or two,” he says, trailing a few more kisses up the side of Steve’s neck.

“Besides that,” Steve huffs, though he makes no move to stop Eddie when his hand comes to rest on the waist of Steve’s pajama pants.

“What am I, an event planner?” Eddie asks, but he does pull away from Steve’s neck with a petulant (and largely exaggerated) sigh. “Fine. How about we stay in bed most of the day and then… we can go back to mine for dinner?”

Steve looks up at Eddie, brows drawing together as he thinks. “What’s at yours that we’d need for dinner?”

Eddie shrugs. “Nothing, really. It’s just been a while,” he says quietly.

And– well, it has. Eddie’s trailer used to be one of the places Steve had felt most comfortable, but he hasn’t spent more than a few minutes there in passing since he’d emptied it of his things. He misses it there – how warm and welcoming it always was, how he’d felt like he belonged there.

What if he goes back now and it’s changed? What if he feels as out of place there now as he does in his own house?

He must spend a moment too long thinking about it, because Eddie begins to backpedal.

“But if you don’t want to, we totally don’t have to, we can just–”

“No,” Steve cuts in. “Let’s go to yours for dinner.”

A slow-growing smile pulls across Eddie’s face, and Steve can tell he’s fighting the urge to duck and hide it.

“Wayne misses you, y’know,” Eddie says, and now it’s Steve who’s ducking away from eye contact.

“Misses my cooking, I bet,” he jokes, but Eddie shakes his head.

“Misses you. He does like you, Steve. He asked where you were, after– after everything,” Eddie says, and Steve isn’t sure what the hell he’s supposed to say to that, or if he even can speak around the sudden, weird choke of emotion in his throat. Eddie, as if he can sense his dilemma, saves Steve from having to respond. “He misses your cooking too, though, let’s be real. He had the audacity to tell me the other day that my mac and cheese isn’t as good as yours. It was your recipe!”

Steve laughs, and Eddie really plays up the offense.

“And you know the worst part? He was right,” Eddie laments. “It’s the same recipe, how does that even work?”

“So, what I’m hearing is that you want me to come to your house and cook you dinner,” Steve teases, smirking up at Eddie.

Eddie subsides just a little, packing away his theatrical energy in order to smile back down at Steve. “I just want you to come over. I’ll order dinner if you want. Hell, I’ll submit myself to public ridicule and try cooking for you again.” He cups Steve’s cheek in one hand and leans in to kiss him gently. “Whatever you want, Steve, I’m there.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, quiet, almost breathless with the depth of Eddie’s promise.

“Yeah,” Eddie answers, his smile as ridiculous and smitten as the look on Steve’s own face must be. “I’m right here with you.”

And Steve decides he likes the sound of that. He likes it very much.

Thank you to everyone who gently threatened me encouraged me to continue the first part of this story, it's been so fun to write and to see everyone interact with! You've all been very kind, and I hope the ending satisfies <3

Tag list: @bushbees @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @gleek4twd @hellfireone @westifer-dead @anne-bennett-cosplayer @starman-jpg @mugloversonly @swimmingbirdrunningrock @alycatavatar @y4r3luv @rhapsodyinalto @vinteraltus @lilpomelito @tillystealeaves @noctxrn-e @pearynice @giverobinagfbrigade @novacorpsrecruit @hotluncheddie @strangersteddierthings @alongcomesaspider @theheadlessphilosopher @jettestar @rajumat @garden-of-gay @jamieweasley13 @dam28lh @oldwitcheshat @lololol-1234 @perfectlysensiblenonsense @salty-h0e @r0binscript @mavernanche @back2beesness @a-lovely-craziness @paintsplatteredandimperfect @redbullgivescaswings @emmabubbles @heartstarstar-blog @thesuninyaface @thatonebisexualman @fruitandbubbles @erinharvelle @m-owo-n @theystoodandplayedwithsilence @surroundedbyconfusion @luthienstormblessed @3ldr1tchang3l @pansexuality-activated

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #eddiesteve #the one person whose perspective we haven't directly seen yet...#anyway this was a trip I haven't updated something AS I've been writing it since I was maybe in high school #solar wrote

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enkas-illusion · 2 months

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Better Than Your 2D Men

Fandom / Pairing: Attack On Titan / Eren x f!reader

Rating: SFW / Fluff

Genre/Theme: Established relationship; non-titan au

Content warning: fluff, teasing, language, suggestive (?), they make out a little.

Summary: When you crush over your fav anime men, Eren gets jealous cause homeboy wants all the attention to himself.

Author's Note: Hello, here’s a short fluffy one-shot with my fav 2D man cause I wanted to have an ambitious crossover of my fav animes. Thank you for reading <3

~ Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: 3D (Alternate Ver.) by Jung Kook

“Baby… pay attention to me…”

You ignore your boyfriend's pouty voice as he lies across the bed, near your feet – instead, you focus on the laptop screen on your lap.

“How much longerrrr?” You hear him sigh and feel fingers caressing the bottom of your feet.

“You know I'm not ticklish,” you reply plainly, eyes still glued to the screen.

“Hmm, that's why…” you hear him mumble before you feel a set of teeth bite around your right foot toes.

“Eren, ew… what the fuck,” you cringe, pulling your foot away from him as you slide the laptop to your side, abruptly halting the anime you were watching to finally look at him.

Your boyfriend smiles ingeniously, proud of his accomplishment at finally getting your attention redirected towards him.

“So that’s what it takes for you to finally pay attention to what really matters,” he ponders as he crawls up to lie between your legs, tilting his head to rest his face on your right thigh.

“I was focusing on what really matters,” you roll your eyes as you grab your laptop once again to rest it on your other thigh. However, Eren’s quick to move further up till his torso is splayed over you, almost like a lizard trying to cover as much surface area of a wall it possibly can.

“Rennie, please let me finish these episodes, I haven’t had the time to watch them for like… weeks now,” you sigh as you try to move his heavy body to the side.

He doesn't budge but simply wraps his arms around your waist, tucking his hands into the gap between your body and the mattress, resting his cheek on your belly, “Okay, you can continue watching.”

You sigh in defeat as you tilt your laptop screen, pressing play and focusing your attention back on the show despite the awkward position you’re in.

It isn’t another 10 minutes into the episode before you hear your boyfriend speak again, “Sometimes I wonder if the only reason you watch this show is cause the men are attractive. There’s no way a slice-of-life person like you enjoys such violence and death.”

You don’t reply, trying your best to ignore his commentary and focusing on the fight scene.

“Oh my god, I’m right! Who is it? Do you like Gojo? Or Nanami? Or who– what are the names of other hot men in this one?” Eren chuckles in disbelief, looking up to scan your face to see if you give away anything.

“Shh, let me concentrate… it’s an important fight,” you mumble without looking at him and the scene is almost over.

“Yeah right,” he scoffs as he pauses the episode right when Choso enters the frame, “tell me, do you find this guy hot?”

“Eren, are you seriously jealous of a 2D character?” you counter, trying not to laugh at his actions.

“Well, if he’s stealing my precious time with my girl then ye–”

“We’ve literally been in bed the whole day,” you interrupt him.

“And is it so wrong to want to be closer to my girlfriend?” he gasps.

“Yes, you were lying around, scrolling on your phone… doing random shit the whole day but the minute I decided to watch JJK, you suddenly want my attention,” you roll your eyes at him.

“Don’t change the topic– who’s your fav among them?” he dodges your accusations.

A smile creeps up on your lips as you decide to indulge him, “Well, they’re all so hot, it’s hard to choose really. There’s this guy, Choso… and Geto, and Toji! Now that I think about it, all of them are equally attractive.”

“All brunettes,” he notes.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“All the men you just named have dark hair,” he states.

“Yes… so?”

“I’m basically like the real-life version of them – I have long, dark hair, a good physique, handsome face–”

“Okay, Narcissus, chill,” you snort. Eren pulls away from you to move further up till he’s hovering over you, caging your head between his arms.

“No, my point being… if you have all of this right here,” he points at himself as he smirks, “why waste your time on some stupid anime?”

“I can have both,” you grin, pressing your palms over his chest.

“One is clearly better than the other,” he dips his head down for a peck.

“I seriously can’t believe you’re jealous of a bunch of sexy 2D men,” you giggle once again.

“No, I'm not… Can your 2D men do this?” he whispers, tilting your face and burying his face into your neck. He licks your skin before sucking on it roughly, causing goosebumps to rise all over your body.

“Can they?” he asks once again as his hand glides under your t-shirt to cup one of your breasts, playing with the nipple. Eren nibs at the spot behind your ear and you let out a soft moan. “Yes?”

“No,” you huff, closing your eyes at the feeling.

“So, am I not better than your 2D men?” he whispers in your ear before biting your earlobe. His hand abandons your tit, instead travelling down to dip into the waistband of your shorts, pressing two fingers over your mound.

“Y-yes,” you sigh. He laughs at how desperate your voice comes out and you tilt your head to kiss him on the lips to end this awkward conversation.

And Eren, being the good boyfriend that he is, lets you mask your embarrassment into his embrace – delighted at being the centre of your attention once again.

~fin~

#erensbirdie #aot x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader #aot x you #aot smut #attack on titan #eren smut #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren aot

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cutecherrygirl · 3 months

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Felix - Love you Goodbye

Warnings: Angst, smut.

Summary: The year is 2020, and Skz is going through hard times. This causes the members to start overworking themselves and go through waves of stress. Your boyfriend Felix is persistent but you can see everything is starting to take a toll on him. Scared of becoming a burden, and also wanting Felix to be able to give his full focus on the group you decide to end things. Before that happens though, Felix wants just one more night with you.

You and Felix have been together for a year. To be honest, you both have never been happier. Felix had never felt so much love from one source alone. Being together was like something out of movie scenes, that is until recently. These past couple of weeks have been more than hectic. Hyunjin went to Hiatus ,while skz were trying to figure out how to perform Cover is Du4 without Hyunjin.

You’ve attempted to help in any way you possibly could. You would bring lunch and dinner over to the boys dorms when you had time, and when horrid rumors about the members started to suffice you would try to be there emotionally for them as best as you could. There were also plenty of nights where none of you would get any sleep thanks to due dates or practice. You truly tried your best, but you were only one person. You could see how not only exhausted Felix was, but all of the members.

Even though everything was rigid, they continued to work hard. You felt bad, only being able to watch from afar. That’s when you started to think, how hard it must be for Felix to try to juggle a relationship & his work. He shouldn’t have to worry about not being able to make time for you then feel bad because of his career. You also had just received a job offer in a different country. You knew first hand that with both of your already crazy schedules, a long distance relationship would not be possible.

You sighed, looking up at the ceiling. You had to carry out the toughest decision of your life. You had to do it. It would be harder later than now. Still though, you laid in bed, deep in though. Is this really where it’s going to end? Just like that? The situation didn’t seem real to you. Suddenly your thoughts are interrupted by your phone ringing. It’s now or never. You gulped and answered the phone.

"Hey Lixie..."

“Baby…” Felix whined from the other side of the line. You couldn’t help but smile. “Yes bub?” He was so cute. “I miss you. Come see your cute Chicken boyfriend.” Felix spoke with a sweet tone. You giggled. “I’ll be there in 10.” With that you hung up the phone. You sat up from your bed, realizing the reality that was about to hit you both. You rushed and grabbed your car keys, heading out.

“Hello there, my sweetie.” Felix greeted you at his room door. He pecked your lips, smiling afterwards. You looked down, allowing your thoughts from earlier to eat you up. Felix noticed something was off and looked down at you. “Are you okay baby?” He asked, concern clear in his voice. Your eyes looked up to meet his own. “Felix we need to break up.” Your words lingered in the air. The room was suddenly silent, your breathing being the only thing audible. Felix was looking towards the ground, unable to say anything. “What are you talking about? Is it me? Was it something I did? Y/n I promise I can-'' You stopped his babbling, “No Felix, it’s nothing you did.” Your voice started to become shaky and your vision blurry. You took his hands in yours and he held on tight. “I’m moving out of the country, I got a job offer. It just wouldn’t work. And you should be able to focus on Skz.”

You smiled as you continued, trying to hold back tears. “Plus, I don’t doubt Skz will conquer success.” It was the truth, they were the strongest group of people you’ve ever met. You had every bit of faith in them. “But it’s not fair to the both of us if we can only hold each other back. It’ll be better if we both just ended things here.” There was no doubt Felix’s heart was breaking at this very moment. But he understood your every word. You were right. He couldn’t argue with that.

“Where are you going?” He asked trying to focus on the more positive. “If I tell you that, you’d just end up at my doorstep.” You forced a smile at your remark. “So? I love you Y/n.” Felix couldn’t contain his tears anymore. He grabbed your waist, pulling you into his embrace. Felix held on tightly, letting his cries become vocal as he sobbed into the crook of your neck. “I love you too.” You joined him in woe. You caressed his back, trying to sooth him by any means. Felix lifted your chin up with his fingers. He planted a soft tender kiss. But even that couldn’t stop the tears. The kiss became more sloppy but longing at the same time, the taste of your salty tears mixed in added additional wetness. You suddenly pulled away, looking him in the eyes.

“Stay with me… one last night.” Felix requested. How could you deny him? Tonight would be the last of each other, why not spend it in pure sensual love?

You nodded in response and once again Felix’s lips met yours. This time it was more passionate, more heated, but still full of heartbreak. Felix’s hands began crawling up your shirt, rubbing small circles into your bare waist. His touch was something you had never gotten used too, goosebumps spread all over. His tongue slipped into your mouth, twirling around with yours. After being like this for a good minute, the heat became too much for Felix. He pulled away, a tiny string of saliva pulling between you. He lifted up your shirt.

His lips rushed to kissing your exposed skin. He was sucking, licking, biting all over your neck and collarbones, while unclamping your bra. Your breathing became heavy. You couldn’t help but moan softly as Felix found your sweet spot. It was a good thing some members were gone for a family visit, & the rest of the members were out of the dorms.

Once Felix got your bra off he picked you up and laid you on his bed. He hovered over you kissing you again.

You were still his for the time being. You tugged at his shirt, usually he would smirk at your eagerness, but he just bit his lip trying to refrain from a look of bitterness. He pulled his shirt over his head. You sat up and began kissing his upper body, small sweet pecks. Felix sighed at the feeling. Everything was hot but his mind kept going back to the fact this would be the last he would be able to feel your lips all over him like this. Felix grew frustrated and pushed you back down into the bed.

He pulled your jeans off with haste, you gasped at his swift motions. He went down and kissed your hardened nipples. He grinded down on your heat while his tongue swirled around your breast. “Felix..” You moaned his name, letting him take over every inch of you. “What baby? Tell me what you want.” His voice was breathy, trying to mask the shakiness. You grinded up into him, creating heated tension. You moaned again, “Felix, I want…” You trailed off. You pulled Felix’s face down, you bit his ear softly, a moan escaping his plump lips. “No. I need you.” You stated. With those words, he unbuckled his pants, stripping off the last remaining clothing.

Before he could move further you grasped his member in your hand. Felix sucked in his breath quickly. You bent over leaving wet kisses up and down his shaft. Felix closed his eyes as you took him in your mouth. He loved when you sucked him off. “Just like that baby.” He exhaled. You detached your mouth and smiled up at his scrunched up expression. His hair already clung to his sweaty face. Oh, how you were going to miss him. Felix went back to hovering over you and slipped off your panties. You let out a shaky breath, remembering for the hundredth time that this was the last time.

It’s like you were both connected, because Felix felt it too. He looked down, making direct eye contact. His eyes held nothing but both, love and melancholy. “I love you so much.” He said, You smiled sadly at him, too scared to respond to anything, scared because this was becoming real. Felix aligned himself with your entrance and slowly pushed in. You moaned loudly. Felix kissed you passionately. Once he felt you adjust he slowly pumped in & out at a slow pace. Even though you were lost in the euphoria of the moment your heart continued to ache. Felix made love to you slowly and lovingly. He made sure that you could feel his love for you, even as his chest felt like it was being ripped open. “Felix..”

You moaned his name, gripping his hair. He grunted lowly. He quickened his pace. “You feel so good Y/n. Keep moaning my name baby.” He was engulfed in these hot flames of arousal and despair. He clung onto your body because this was the last time he’d be able to hold you this close again. You shut your eyes, a single tear rolling down as you moaned. You kissed Felix’s shoulder, relishing in the feeling of him inside you. The thought alone was enough to send you over the edge. Your body shuddered as you came undone around him.

Pretty soon you felt his movement become unsteady and sloppy. With a few more thrust he pulled out, letting out low moans as his hot liquid released on your lower stomach. Your heavy breathing was the only thing audible in the room now. Once Felix calmed down he grabbed a towel and cleaned you up. He laid beside you pulling your body close to him. He pecked your temple and closed his eyes. He knew yours remained on him but he ignored your gaze on purpose. He didn’t want to come to terms with the reality in front of him. He didn’t want to let you go.

He didn’t want to hear you speak a word because he would fall apart all over again. Maybe if he just held you close & shut his eyes all of this would’ve been a bad dream. He’d wake you up to the smell of pancakes, you’d strut into the kitchen with his shirt on, and he’d be able to see your beautiful smile once again.

Serenity had taken its course as you engulfed yourself in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. You closed your eyes and fell into a slumber by the boy you who would soon become a memory.

Your eyes fluttered open. Your first instinct was to look towards the window. The color of the morning was a taint greyish blue. Meaning, the sun hadn’t come out yet. Your head turned towards Felix’s sleeping body. His blonde hair was sticking up in all sorts of places, his lips swollen were puffy, and the duvet outlined the silhouette of his body beautifully. You smiled, mentally snapping a picture of his state in your head. You pecked his forehead tenderly. The feeling of overwhelming heartbreak returning. You stood up gathering your things and putting your clothes back on. You grabbed your keys and turned the doorknob to leave. You looked back at Jimin one last time and frowned. The tears formed in your eyes but you hastily walked out, leaving before you could turn back and do something stupid.

A couple hours later, when the sun was peeking through the windows Felix slowly opened his eyes. He smiled remembering the events of last night. He turned to look at your sleeping body but he was met with emptiness. And there was his cruel reality. The loneliness had hit him like a ton of bricks. His heart clenched in his chest and the tears built up in his eyes again. Could you really be gone? For good? Forever?

Felix looked around the room in panic looking for any piece of you. Suddenly your existence itself felt like a dream. A dream that was never true. A dream that was disappearing from his memory. To his dismay, not a trace of you was found. It was like you were never there. Felix wept aloud, his hand gripping his chest tightly. The pain was too much to bear. He fell to his knees as the tears ran down his face nonstop. His worst nightmare had come true. This really was the end.

🩵🩵🩵🩵

#felix imagines #lee felix #felix #felix x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #smut #felix smut #straykids #skz #lee felix x reader #leefelix #agnst #skz angst #stray kids angst #felix angst #lee felix angst

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ultram0th · 6 months

Text

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 20: Jock

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13 │ 14 │ 15 │ 16 │ 17 │ 18 │ 19 │ 20

Derek sighed as he walked into his bedroom for the night, feeling incredibly drained from his argument with Eli. “I just don’t get it,” he huffed, throwing himself down onto the bed in a huff. “No matter what, we just can’t seem to see eye to eye.”

Stiles frowned and ran a caring hand over his husband’s chest. “He’s a jock,” he said. “All his high speed brain can focus on it sports.”

Derek frowned deeply. “I guess,” he growled. “I just wish that I could understand him better. Like, as if we were on the same wavelength.”

Derek lied back and rested next to Stiles, having trouble sleeping due to his fight with his son. He and Eli had been fighting with one another lately, usually due to typically father-son issues, such as Eli letting his grades slip due to his intense interest in sports, which tended to lead to Derek threatening to pull Eli from whatever team he was on that month. His son was a total jock, something that Derek didn’t really experience while in school.

As Derek drifted off to sleep, he felt his limbs tingle, his mind constantly wishing that he could understand the jock better…

The alarm blared, and Stiles sleepily slapped it silent.

Derek stretched his muscled arms above his head, yawning loudly as he woke up. As he moved, his face scrunched up as the stench of musk and sweat hit his nose, emanating in waves from his hairy pits.

Even Stiles could smell it with his dulled human senses, jerking back and plugging up his nose. “Damn Der,” he gasped, “no offense, but you reek.”

Derek felt his face grow warmer as he blushed. “Yeah, Bro,” he heard himself balk in his deep voice, “I must’ve worked up a big sweat last night.” Derek was puzzled over how deep and slow his voice sounded, and the way he’d called this husband “Bro”.

For a brief moment, Stiles scrunched up his brow in confusion, but it smoothed out rapidly as a small grin formed on his face. “Typical jock,” he lightheartedly laughed, slowly getting out of the bed to get ready for work.

Jock? Derek puzzled over what Stiles had said as he got out of bed, his body automatically lumbering towards the dresser. He yanked open the top drawer and paused as he was greeted with an array of jockstraps— his boxers nowhere to be seen.

As if his body had a mind of its own, Derek felt his muscled arms move and snatch up a jockstrap. He yanked the small garment on, the pouch filled to the limit with his massive cock and balls while his perky ass bubbled out the back.

“Don’t you want to take a shower?” Stiles asked, the tone in his voice indication that he’d hoped that Derek would listen to him.

“Nope,” Derek heard himself scoff, answering without any thought of his own. He even leaned down and sniffed at one of his stinky pits, the musky stench filling the confines of the bedroom. “I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m gonna get all sweaty at practice anyways. So what’s the point?”

Practice?

Derek was so caught up in his odd behavior that he’d barely noticed when he’d opened up another dresser drawer, grabbing a football jersey. He yanked the tight garnet on, noting how his muscles pressed against it, illustrating his athletic prowess. Next, he grabbed some small workout shorts that only came up to mid-thigh and were so tight that his butt and package pressed noticeably against it, almost as if they were on full display.

When he looked at himself in the mirror, Derek inwardly winced at the dim smile on his face. He still looked the same, with his mature and masculine beard that had flecks of gray in it; however, he felt ridiculous being dressed up like a total jock, feeling childish.

His body evidently wouldn’t let any of his inner turmoil show as he lifted up a buff arm, flexing a large bicep. “Damn,” he heard himself say, “I’m getting fuckin’ huge, Bro!”

Despite himself, as Derek flexed in the mirror, he felt his cock start to stiffen within the confines of his tight jockstrap. The pouch tented outwards as it struggled to maintain his meaty cock, looking as if the werewolf was smuggling a summer sausage in his pants. Instead of blushing or trying to conceal his package, Derek felt himself place this hands on his hips and shove his crotch forward expectantly.

“Hey, Bro,” he said, “I’m so fuckin’ horny. Wanna help me out?”

Stiles smiled at his husband, chuckling as he shifted off the bed. “Damn, Der,” he laughed, “that thing’s always cocked and loaded.”

Always cocked and loaded? Derek’s eyebrows rose as new memories filtered into his foggy head, being filled to the brim with Derek being hard and rutting against whatever crossed his path. The stud was always incredibly horny, his cock seemingly rocketing straight to attention after a few moments after cumming. He wanted to blush at the image of himself sauntering down the street in his tight jerseys, his hard cock pressed tightly against his thick thigh for all to see.

Derek’s frantic thoughts slowed down significantly as his husband dropped to his knees in front of him, wasting no time in taking in his full member.

“Oooh!” Derek loudly bellowed, his deeper sounding voice bouncing off the thin walls in the house. “Yeah, suck that cock, Bro. Bet it’s the biggest ya ever had!” The normally silent werewolf couldn’t keep his mouth shut as he was sucked off, moaning loudly and cockily bragging about his cock. No matter how humiliated the alpha was over his uncontrollable behavior, he couldn’t help but bask in the warmth of pleasure that washed over him. All of his panic was momentarily forgotten until all of his ample muscles tensed up. “Uunghh!”

Derek cried out as he came, shooting what felt like the biggest load of his life. He was left spent and trying to catch his breath as Stiles stood up and went about getting ready for his day at work.

“Thanks, Bro,” Derek heard himself say. “I gotcha next time!” Already, at the mere suggestion of sucking off his husband, Derek’s cock plumped up and it took him a few moments to realize that he’d been absentmindedly fondling his hard bulge after tucking it back into his jockstrap.

As the werewolf continued with his morning routine that didn’t involve a shower, he couldn’t help but wince whenever he lifted his arms and his musky stench would waft out from his pits, smelling as if he’d just finished a killer workout at a crowded gym.

Derek walked downstairs and paused at the front door where Stiles gave him a quick kiss. “Can’t forget this, Coach,” Stiles said, handing Derek a silver whistle attached to a small chain necklace.

Derek was confused over both the whistle and why Stiles had called him “Coach” for some reason. However, the confusion quickly vanished when Derek realized that he no longer worked at his auto shop but was instead a coach at Beacon Hills High School. His stomach dropped when he tried to recall the massive amounts of paperwork that were supposed to be waiting for him on his desk at the shop, all of them detailing receipts and parts on orders; yet, now the werewolf’s muddled brain struggled to comprehend what all of those numbers meant. He paled even further when his knowledge of business management wasn’t the only thing gone. In a panic, Derek’s eyes darted around the house and sure enough, simple items seemed to be way beyond his mental grasp. For example, although he’d used it hundreds of times before whatever the hell happened to him, Derek stared at the coffee maker that was in the kitchen, unsure what all of the buttons meant… luckily Stiles was there to help him out since he was such a dumb jock.

Derek inwardly flinched at that last thought, recalling the stupid wish he’d made last night. He’d wished that he could understand jocks more.

Now Derek was a dumb, horny jock.

His days were filled with nothing except working out, playing sports, and fucking. That’s all a dumb jock like him was good for.

Still, Derek put the whistle around his neck and puffed out his large pecs against his tight spots jersey. “Thanks, bro,” he dimly smiled before leaning forward to rut his hard cock against Stiles’s thigh. “You gonna come during my lunch break to help me out with this?”

“Of course,” Stiles said, resting an admiring hand on Derek’s bicep, which the werewolf flexed out of instinct, “I can’t have my big jock going too long without any release. Poor guy would be all pent up.” He mock frowned, a hint of playful condescension audible.

Derek’s foggy mind didn’t pick up on it, and instead he just smiled back widely. “Yeah, Bro,” he agreed in his deep voice, “if I don’t cum at least five times a day, I can’t think well.” He paused at the odd words leaving his mouth, but then the alarm on his phone went off and he perked up. “Oh shit. I’m gonna be late! Love ya, Bro!” He kissed Stiles on the cheek before hurrying out of the house and lumbering towards his Camaro, his hard cock tenting out his tight shorts.

#31 days of derek hale #Derek Hale #stiles stilinski #Sterek #Teen Wolf #muscle #musk #loss of iq #dumber #Jock #Jock TF #Mental Change

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 1 month

Note

Love your bay children series! Can you please write how the bay turtles are as uncles and how their nephews and nieces are with them <3

Du skriver även jätte bra! Puss och kram

The Kids and Their Uncles (Fluff)

Bayverse!Turtles x reader

A/N: I’ve made these with the focus on you and said turtle’s childrens’ relationship with one of the uncles. Hope that makes sense, lol. Oh, btw, the advice Leo gives Mini is actually one my psychiatrist gave me. Hopefully it also works for others💚

Og mange tak! Jeg har også øvet mig længe💚

(D/W/N) = Donnie’s wife’s name.

Warnings: None💙❤️💜🧡

Leonardo:

“Uncle Mikey!”, 16 year old Romeo called out, holding his odachi high above his head, gleaming with pride when Michelangelo entered the dojo. “See what I can do!” What followed was a series of fast movements that ended with him posing with his odachi just in front of him, shining in the light.

Gerardo let out a sound of amazement, while Marcello rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “Show off”.

“Wow, when did you learn that?”, Mikey smiled, knowing how hard his oldest nephew had trained, since Master Splinter first gave him his odachi at the age of 15.

“I learned it myself”, Romeo said proudly, before swinging the odachi in a manner that reminded Mikey of a teenage Leonardo. No doubt that was the oldest son of the fearless leader. “I’m going to show dad later. Do you think he’ll like it?”

“You’re asking if your father will be happy to see something you have learned yourself?”, Mikey asked, his serious tone breaking with his smile as he ruffled the top of Romeo’s head, letting his nephew know that he was joking. “Of course he will. That’s the kind of stuff that will make your old man proud”.

“Me too!”, Gerardo yelled out, mimicking his oldest brother’s moves, but without any weapon in his hands.

“Leo! Is that you?”, Mikey asked jokingly, making the 10 year old laugh loudly, before Romeo put his weapon away, so he and Gerardo engaged in some light hearted sparring, their laughter echoing loudly through the dojo.

Mikey turned to find his other nephew sitting in the corner of the room, watching his brothers run around with a small scowl. Mikey was no stranger to Marcello’s tempered episodes, having been present to many of them, or at least within ear shot. So as he made his way over to the 13 year old Marcello, he knew exactly what was going on. But he would let the young half mutant have a chance, at explaining what he was feeling.

“Hey there, big guy”, Mikey said, taking a seat on the floor next to the grumpy teenager. Marcello shot him a look and greeted him with a small hey, resting his chin in his hand. “Why are you sitting over here?”

“Because those two are taking up the whole dojo”, Marcello mumbled, nodding to his brothers. “A guy can’t get space around here”.

Mikey watched Marcello have his brothers for a moment, before he decided to stand, turning to his nephew with a smile. “Well, guess we then have to make some space”, he said, Marcello looking at him in curiosity. “Ever tried nunchucks before?”

“No”, Marcello answered, unable to hide his smile as he stood up. “Can I try yours?”

“Of course you can”, Mikey said, pulling his nunchucks from his belt, holding them out in front of Marcello, watching his face light up even further. And Mikey’s next words only served to make him smile even brighter. “Time to show your father something the others can’t”.

Raphael:

Raph had never really been good at meditating. He had never really liked it, and he generally had a hard time keeping his mind calm for so long. But he did really want his children to learn it. Or at least get familiar with it, should they ever get to a position where they would need it. And therefore Raph asked Leonardo for help. Leo had always been a natural at meditating, and had for the most part successfully taught his own children to do it, so maybe he could teach Raph’s children the same.

And that was how Leo ended up in the dojo with his nephew and two nieces, helping them clear their minds, the same way that had worked for his own children. But Leo soon found himself facing a difficult situation - these were his nieces and nephew, the children of his hot-tempered and at times inpatient brother. And that much was obvious, from the way the three children had a hard time sitting still, almost refusing to go too far into their own heads.

As Leo spoke about slow breathing, keeping their eyes closed, and bringing their thoughts to focus on the said breathing, only Joan seemed to be able to sit still, wanting to get this over with, so she could go back to whatever a 13 year old teenage girl liked to speed her time with. But her younger siblings weren't finding it as easy. 6 year old Ragnar had a hard time concentrating, his attention being grabbed by every sound outside the dojo, creating all sorts of images in his head. All from his mother and father watching television, to a monster breaking through the entrance of the lair, making him uneasy. Minerva however, just couldn’t sit right. Her legs kept falling asleep and her skin kept crawling, her knee impatiently bouncing in its bent position, pushing up against Joan, drawing an irritated sigh from the frustrated teen, who had just managed to empty her head for a short moment.

“Mini, stop moving your leg”, Leo said without opening his eyes, causing Ragnar to look at him in amazement. How did he do that?

“But, uncle Leo”, Mini said, laying down onto her back, stretching out on the dojo floor. “Meditation is so hard and boring”.

“If you shut up, it maybe wouldn’t be so hard”, Joan mumbled, shooting her little sister a look that made Mini sit back up.

Leo opened his eyes, taking a moment to study Mini as she still couldn’t sit still. “Can you say why it's hard and boring? It’s okay, there’s no right or wrong answer”.

Mini sat for a moment, chewing the inside of her cheek, thinking her answer through. "It's hard to empty my head”, the 9 year old mumbled.

Leo looked at Mini and thought for a moment, before he finally smiled at her, noticing the relieved expression on her face.

“That’s okay”, Leo said, adjusting his legs. “It’s very hard to just empty your head, especially when you’re used to thinking a lot. What you can do instead, is to notice your thoughts. Take note of them and let them be. Don’t fight them, but let them flow naturally. Hopefully that will feel easier”.

Mini nodded with a bright smile, before folding her legs once more, actually being able to sit still this time. Smiling at the sight, Leo turned his attention towards Ragnar, noticing how he kept throwing glances at the dojo doors.

“Do you want to sit next to me, Ragnar?”, Leo asked, holding out his hand to the small boy. Ragnar nodded before making his way over next to Leo, taking a good hold of his hand, before he sat down next to him with his legs crossed, for once not looking towards the door, when he heard the small sounds coming from the other side.

Donatello:

Sometimes it just happened, and Raph wasn’t really sure how. He would walk into a room, find his nephews and nieces playing with something, either with or without his own children, and suddenly he would be sitting down with them, playing along, all full of life and energy. And today wasn’t any different.

Raph had found his 10 year old nephew, Galileo at the kitchen table, scribbling away at pieces of paper with thick colorful crayons, and a concentrated expression on his face - one that very much reminded Raph of Donatello, whenever he was in deep concentration inside his lab.

Raph had asked Gali about what he was drawing, and soon he sat with his nephew at the kitchen table, drawing all sorts of stars and action heroes, causing Gali great amusement, as they took turns adding to the drawing. However, as the two of them continued their drawing game, they were soon joined by Marie and Dorothy.

The two 5 year old girls sat at the table, grabbing their own pieces of paper and a handful of crayons, only for their attention to be fully caught by Gali and Raph’s drawings. And of course, the two girls wanted in, wanting to join their older brother and their uncle.

“Can we play too?”, Dorothy asked, trying to touch the paper with her pink crayon, only for Gali to turn to her with a dirty look. A look that even Raph has seen many times, whenever Gali felt like his sisters crept in on his personal space.

“No, me and uncle Raph are busy”, Gali said, doing a hand movement, as if he was trying to shoo his sisters away.

“But we want to play!”, Marie whined, her green crayon in hand.

“I said no”, Gali said, turning his back on his sisters, pushing his paper further away from them. And of course, this action caused tears to gloss over the girls eyes, looking longingly at the paper he and Raph had been drawing on.

“You know what?”, Raph suddenly said, catching the attention of the three children once more. “I have a better idea”.

Standing from the table, Raph grabbed the stack of paper, before splaying them out over the kitchen table, until the whole surface was covered in the white paper. The three kids, seeming to understand what Raph was doing, looked up at their uncle with wide smiles, grabbing onto the crayons with excitement.

“Let’s draw the biggest drawing ever!”, Raph said, watching with a happy smile, his nephew and niece smiled at each other, before turning their attention towards the many papers in front of them.

As Raph and three kids continued their drawing, the other kids slowly came to the table, taking a look before adding onto the large piece themselves. It didn’t take long before all the kids of the lair sat around the kitchen table, drawing until there was almost no crayons left.

Michelangelo:

1.5 year old Luis had been sick for a few days now, crying for both you and Mikey at all times. The poor little guy was teething, and with that came sickness and pain, and so, you and Mikey was hung up, spending most of your time with your crying child, trying to soothe the pain in his gums. And this left Sunny BORED. Ever since Luis had gotten sick due to his teething, Sunny had been a bored and sighing mess. She wandered around the lair, waiting for the moment Luis got better, so either you, Mikey or maybe even Luis could come play with her. But until then, she would have to entertain herself, or find someone else to do so. And that was how she ended up in the lab with her uncle, draping herself over a small table on the other side of the room, with a small installation of the solar system on it.

Donnie saw his niece enter the lair, and spoke to her without looking away from his work. “Hey, Sunny. How’s it going?”

“Bored!”, Sunny groaned, resting her chin on the table, her eyes staring at the small earth in front of her. “Luis’ sick, so there’s nothing to do”.

“That doesn’t sound good”, Donnie said, turning his chair so he could watch Sunny, making sure she wasn’t getting her fingers into something she shouldn’t. She had a tendency to touch whatever she found interesting. And just as Donnie had thought, she was now poking at the miniature solar system. “Have you asked Gali if he wants to play?”

“He’s reading with aunt (D/W/N)”, the girl mumbled. However, her flighty attention and curiosity was very soon taken by the miniature she was playing with. “What is this?”

“That?”, Donnie asked, rolling his chair over to her. “That’s the solar system. The one you’re touching right now is earth”.

“Earth”, Sunny repeated, her attention jumping to the small white ball beside it. “What’s this?”

“That’s the moon”, Donnie answered.

“The moon?”, Sunny asked, her eyes shining with excitement. “Like the one in the sky?”

“Yes”, Donnie smiled. “Like the one in the sky”.

“Do there live fairies on the moon?”, Sunny asked, pushing the moon spindle, so it made a rush of circles around the earth.

Donnie chuckled at her question. She was truely Mikey’s daughter.

“Do you want fairies to live on the moon?”, Donnie asked, watching Sunny study the solar system. His niece looked at him and nodded. “Then in that case, there lives moon fairies on the moon. But they are hard to find. They neither like robots or beings that aren’t fairies themselves”.

“But I’m a fairy!”, Sunny exclaimed.

“You are!?”, Donnie asked, acting surprised. He looked around, acting as if he was thinking, making Sunny laugh. “But we’re in my lab! There are robots! Come on fairy, let’s get you out of here and find some of your fairy friends!”

And with a loud giggle, Sunny ran out of the room, waiting for Donnie to close the door to the lab behind him, before they continued their fairy game in the living area.

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aziraphales-library · 2 months

Note

hey yall! i appreciate everything u do :] i wanted to know if you know of any bottom/sub crowley fics that heavily feature begging/desperation? if this is okay to request that is

tysm!! -haywire anon

Of course it's okay! Here are some begging bottom Crowley fics for you...

In Good Hands by tikli (E)

Thirsty Redhead Gets Railed By Blond Masseur

Reason Comes on the Common Tongue of Your Loving Me by Anonymous (E)

"Oh, yes, so very good, Crowley — oh, you were made for me, my darling," the angel continued in a low purr, tonguing along the length of Crowley's neck, sucking bruises along the line of his Adam's apple and making him tip his head back with a keening sound as he sank back down on Aziraphale's length. They both moaned, and as Aziraphale spoke again, his voice was low and filled with heat, filled with a possessiveness that made Crowley feel like he had caught fire that was consuming him from the inside out. (PWP with a focus on body worship and praise; lots of tender moments and sweet aftercare! Don't like, don't read, please!)

two mistakes make a… quickie? by revelations_chapter_six (E)

Aziraphale really hadn't meant to send Crowley that dick pic. But, fucking him up against the wall of the men's restroom, he's certainly not sorry he did it.

The Beauty of Indulgence by Ineffably_Yours (E)

Crowley and Aziraphale dine at the Ritz. (With a spicy twist.)

To Have and To Hold (forever and ever, amen.) by Theres_a_whore_loose_in_the_archives (E)

“Well you know I can have a terrible possessive streak, Crowley. I’m not proud of it.” “Can you Angel?” “Yes!! I mean look at this place. I can count on one hand the books I’ve let leave the shop in decades, maybe centuries. I’m greedy Crowley, I get awfully jealous at the thought... I can’t bear to let anyone else have them. I need to have them all to myself.” He was waving his hands around wildly. Crowley watched idly. “Alright.” Aziraphale was getting more and more flustered admitting this… whatever it was. “I need to have you all to myself.” He said, emphatically. Crowley chuckled. “Oh Angel, you’ve got me! I’m all yours.” “I need to show you, though. I feel that terrible… vice of mine come to the surface when I’m around you. And I keep having all these horrible thoughts, Crowley.” He took a step towards the demon.” I need to make you feel that you’re mine. Only mine.” Crowley put down his book slowly, paying full attention. “Ok.” The angel blinked. “What?” “Show me then.” --------------------------------- Aziraphale confesses an unexplored sin of his. Crowley wants to see it. 10 pages of possessive Aziraphale.

So Much More by ashaydamn (E)

After the onslaught of the Armageddon That Wasn’t, it seemed the only beings - organic or occult - left to occupy the space were the plants. The plants which adorned the bedroom, for instance, had found themselves in complete solitude for nearly the whole summer, by the looks of the slowly yellowing leaves on the trees outside their window. Wherever their master was, the silence and solitude was a nice change of pace from the typical leaf-shaking fear which accompanied the regular presence of the snarling beast that tended them. Today though, the silence was broken. A voice not unlike their long-lost master’s echoed through the wall, colored by affects of passion and exertion. Seems not only had someone brought home a guest, but if the muffled whimpers and frantic begging were any indication, it wasn’t their master that the plants should quake in fear of today. -- In which Crowley learns the consequences of cumming without permission.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #adult omens #begging #bottom cowley #D/s #mod d

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florence-end · 9 months

Text

The Wedding Video

Rhysand x reader

Request: Could you do one with rhys during a wedding ceremony with reader?!

Summary: You and Rhysand decide to elope while away travelling. But when you get home, you have to break the news to your family.

Warnings: just a tiny bit suggestive at the end

As Rhysand landed gracefully on the roof of the townhouse and placed you back on your feet, you turned to face him nervously.

“Do you think they’re mad?” you asked, worrying your lip between your teeth.

Rhys reached up a hand and tugged your lip free before placing a gentle kiss in the same place.

“I’m sure they’ll be suitably dramatic for a while but no doubt they’ll be very happy for us. You aren’t having regrets are you?” he teased, knowing full well that you were beyond thrilled to call the high lord your husband.

“Not yet, although I might change my mind if Azriel cries,” you joke.

“10 gold pieces says Cassian is already crying,” Rhys bet, chuckling. Before you could answer, a deep voice bellowed from an open window.

“GET INSIDE YOU TRAITORS”

“Well at least he’s not crying,” you winced as Rhys took your hand and led you inside.

You had been on your way back from visiting Helion in the Day Court when you flew over one of the beautiful temples that was home to some of the priestesses. Despite both wanting to get married as soon as possible, finding the time to plan the wedding had proven difficult and when Rhys asked if you would marry him then and there with the priestesses as your witnesses, you were thrilled.

It was only when you took to the skies once more, you realised that your family may not take the news so well. In order to give them some time to adjust, you told Rhys to speak to them mind to mind and break the news before you got home. He did as he was asked, but immediately jumped out of their minds and slammed up his shields before he could hear their responses. Cowardly Illyrian baby.

Now you were home and it was time to face the music. Mor and Cassian were pacing back and forth in the centre of the living room, Azriel was leaning against the far wall half shrouded in his shadows, and Amren sat in the comfy armchair by the fire reading a book that was almost as large as she was.

“Hi guys, we missed you!” you attempted as you both stepped into the room, looking guilty as sin.

“Hmm it seems like a lot of people are missing a lot of things today,” Cassian snarked, crossing his arms like a petulant child. Before you could muster up a response, Mor chimed in.

“How could you not invite ME? I understand excluding these brutes, they look odd in formal clothing anyway, but I could have winnowed immediately!” She ignored the chorus of ‘hey!’ that came from Cassian and Azriel.

“Cousin, brothers, we’re sorry. It wasn’t planned, we just saw the temple and I realised I couldn’t possibly wait another second without making my mate my wife.” Rhys explained. Mor, Cassian and Azriel didn’t react immediately. You glanced at Amren who winked at you over her book, letting you know they weren’t really upset.

“How about Rhys shows you everything, and then it’ll feel like you were there? And Mor, you can have full creative control of the party you are no doubt already planning,” you offered.

Cassian’s facade immediately disappeared as he nodded excitedly. “Well show us then Rhysie!”

Everyone allowed their mental shields to drop and Rhys projected his memory into all of your minds.

Rhys’ POV

Gods this is the best idea I’ve ever had. The temple is light and airy, fae lights twirl up each of the stone columns dotted throughout the chapel and the priestesses’ angelic voices fill the air. Noticing all of this is secondary to me however, as all my focus is on the magnificent being making her way towards where I stand before the altar. She’s wearing her travel clothes, her hair swept back and fastened on top of her head, her face bare. And yet I’m just as awed as I would be if she were wearing the finest gown and jewels in Prythian.

She ascends the stone steps to the altar and I remember myself enough to reach for her hands. I know without a doubt this is the happiest I have ever felt, and her smile tells me she feels the same.

The ceremony passes in a blur, the high priestess delivers a sermon on everlasting love, the choir sings, and we each repeat our vows to love one another in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer.

It takes little prompting for me to dip my beautiful bride low and kiss her as if it’s the first and last time I’ll ever have the privilege. New whorls of ink cover my hands, matching with the fresh designs on hers. The physical proof of our promises to each other.

We thank the priestesses and accept their blessings for our union, before I sweep my new wife off her feet and fly us both home to begin our lives as husband and wife.

You saw everyone’s eyes refocus as Rhys’ memory came to an end. Mor was crying and even Azriel looked emotional, although his shadows were working hard to conceal their master’s show of vulnerability. You looked up at Rhys to find he was already watching you with soft eyes.

“Do you think they’ve forgiven us enough that I can kick them out of the house now?” He spoke into your mind, raising an eyebrow suggestively. You elbowed his ribs jokingly before you were consumed by a group hug, instigated by Mor and Cassian but eventually including Azriel and even Amren.

“We are immensely happy for you Rhysand. And we will protect and serve you both for the rest of our lives,” the tiny ancient one declared. You nodded your gratitude.

“Yeah yeah yeah, protect and serve. Now, this party-” Mor started, cheered on by Cassian’s whoops of approval.

Without waiting to hear another word, Rhys winnowed you both upstairs to your bedroom, using his power to open the front door as an unsubtle hint to your family as he whisked you away.

Backing up towards the large bed, you watched your husband stalk towards you with feline hunger on his face.

“Allow me to show you how I intend to serve you for the rest of my life, my love,” he whispered as he dropped to his knees before you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I may have gone out of cannon with the wedding ceremony bc fae ones probably aren’t the same as human weddings but hopefully you still like it! Thank you for requesting🥰

#acotar fanfiction #acotar #rhysand x reader #rhysand #rhysand x you

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yourlocaldisneyvillain · 9 months

Text

a little treat (nsfw)

AO3 link

Summary: Larissa decides to treat herself to a massage. ;)

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♥ please do not hesitate to leave me a comment on ao3 if you feel so inclined -- it makes my heart sing ♥

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It’s 10am and Larissa can’t focus for the life of her.

She’s wound too tight, her shoulders are achey, she has a throbbing headache and she feels a deep discomfort in the pit of her stomach. It’s the final month of the winter semester, and the stress is really getting to her. Wednesday’s latest stunt caused more grey hairs to appear on her temples and everybody seems to be on her case — the mayor, the parents, the teachers, the students.

She needs a fucking vacation.

She can’t afford to take a vacation — the school would collapse without her. Wednesday would probably burn it to the ground if Larissa took a single day off.

She could, however… perhaps… maybe… take an afternoon off. Nobody has to know. It would be just one afternoon — it could even be today. She desperately needs to unwind somehow.

But what should she do? Just… take a nap? Is she even physically capable of taking a nap? She doubts it — she’s far too anxious for it. She’d just end up working again.

She arches her back, cracks her neck. Her shoulders are terribly stiff.

Perhaps she should get a massage.

She’s never had a massage before. She never seems to find the time for something like that, and quite honestly, she always thought it a waste of money. However, her shoulders don’t seem to share her opinion — they might just petrify if she continues to live like this.

She googles massage places nearby. There appear to be plenty — but one in particular sticks out. People seem to love it. It has many reviews, all of which are excellent.

"really REALLY enjoyed my massage :) 10/10" "Ask for Tilly when you come if you like gentle hands. Fantastic experience." "The Best message place……. reccommend…….." "I’m a regular here. I always leave satisfied. Highly recommend." "my first time getting a massage like this.. but i loved it!"

Before she knows it, Larissa is calling the massage place and booking an appointment, and, fortunately, they seem to have an opening this afternoon. The woman on the phone asks her if she wants a regular massage and informs her that they only have female masseuses — Larissa finds that a bit odd, but thinks nothing of it. She just wants her massage. A regular one — whatever the hell that means.

She spends the rest of her day working and anxiously waiting for the time to leave. She answers parents’ phone calls, deals with insufferable teenagers, schedules an appointment with the Mayor for tomorrow afternoon — her headache gets worse when she thinks about how she’ll have to debase herself, grovel and beg for more funding. She, however, ignores most of her emails, despite the angry red notifications popping up on the app annoying her to no end. She makes a pact with herself to look at those after the massage.

The time to go finally arrives — she lets out a sigh of relief as she locks her office and goes to exit the school building. She loves Nevermore, but you can get sick even of your favourite things if you look at them every day.

She gets in the car, ignores the phone that buzzes incessantly, new emails arriving every couple of minutes. The massage will need to be out of this world if she wants to forget about all this stress — and she doubts it will be. She already regrets doing this — it will probably be a waste of time and money. She wonders if she’s capable of relaxing at this point. Does she even remember what being relaxed feels like?

She's lost in thought as she drives to the massage place. She thinks about emails that need to be answered, anxiety pooling in her stomach, and listens to the robotic voice of her phone navigation — before she knows it, she’s already arrived.

She parks the car and enters the establishment — the place seems decent. A young, cheerful receptionist greets her as she approaches the desk.

“I have a 5 o’clock appointment,” she says, not bothering with a greeting. She thinks about her emails.

The receptionist checks her laptop, and Larissa checks out her cleavage. She considers the outfit a bit inappropriate for the workplace, but Larissa isn’t one to complain about a pleasant view. However, if any of her employees dressed like that, she’d have a word with them.

“Ah, yes, I have you right here. Miss Weems, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“A regular massage, is it?”

What is it with these people and their “regular” massages? What even is a “regular” massage? And does that imply there’s such a thing as an “irregular” massage?

She doesn’t, however, ask any of those questions — instead she just says yes and impatiently taps her fingers on her purse. She wants to be done with this as quickly as possible so she can return to Nevermore. She’s getting quite fidgety. What if she returns and finds the school in ruins?

“Alright. You can always change your mind during, you know that,” the receptionist says and Larissa ignores her, still tapping her fingers on her purse.

“You can go inside and get comfortable. Your masseuse will be with you shortly.”

Larissa just curtly nods and goes to the massage room, eager to get this over with. She anxiously checks her phone. She has 36 unanswered emails. She feels nauseous. Maybe this was a bad idea — maybe she shouldn’t have taken an afternoon off. God knows what Wednesday will do if she realises Larissa left the school grounds. She then remembers her appointment with the Mayor tomorrow and her stomach churns. She has to think about how to best present her case — balance the grovelling with the persuading, and maybe throw in a bit of flirting for good measure…

Her mind is racing. She eyes the emails again. Maybe if she just responds to a couple of urgent ones… it will take a minute or two at most — and then she can undress.

She responds to three emails — none of which are truly urgent, but should probably be addressed sooner rather than later — when she hears a knock on the door that brings her back to reality, and she realises she’s still dressed.

She opens her mouth, wants to ask for five more minutes, but the door opens before she can speak and the prettiest young woman Larissa has ever seen enters the massage room.

“Hi! Miss Weems, I presume?” she asks.

Larissa drops her phone on the ground and swears out loud.

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You enter the massage room and the first thing you see is a tall, gorgeous, blonde woman in her forties, still fully dressed. You’re a bit confused — doesn’t she know how this works?

“Hi!” you say. “Miss Weems, I presume?”

The woman drops her phone on the ground.

“Fuck,” she says, and immediately covers her mouth, as if surprised by her own reaction. “Fuck,” she repeats. “Yes. Sorry.” She bends down to pick up the phone.

She — Miss Weems — is, by all accounts, rather odd — the tallest woman you’ve ever seen, dressed like a 1940s movie star, with hair so blonde it’s almost white pinned in an intricate updo, swearing instead of a greeting (to be fair, she has the most beautiful, velvety voice and a British accent that would probably make anything she says sound sensual and sophisticated), apparently unaware you have to be undressed for a massage.

You are immediately enamoured with her.

“I can give you a couple more minutes,” you say as you watch her fumble with her phone, shoving it in her purse. “You do kind of need to be undressed for this.”

“I'm sorry, I seem to have lost track of time — I just needed to respond to a couple of emails. They were quite urgent.”

“That’s alright, Miss Weems, but we do have a limited amount of time.”

You have no one scheduled for another half an hour after her, and for this woman, you’d gladly cut your break short — but you don’t say that, deciding to remain professional.

“I apologise,” she says, taking off her coat. “My head seems to be elsewhere. I’ll undress in a moment.”

“You can leave it on the hanger there,” you say. “I’ll leave you to it, I can give you another ten minutes.”

“Oh no, we shouldn’t waste time,” she says. She strides across the room, hips swaying in the tight skirt, to put her coat on the hanger. A pleasant scent of subtle, citrusy perfume reaches you as she passes by you. “I’ll undress in a moment.”

She hangs the coat, then pauses, turning towards you. “Do I need to… fully undress?”

She seems a bit nervous. You find her confidence and charisma mixed with clumsiness and nervousness absolutely irresistible.

“People generally do, but you can undress to your comfort level. You’ve booked the regular massage, haven’t you?”

“I’ve been asked that about a dozen times today. Yes, I’ve booked the regular massage,” she says, sounding annoyed as she unbuttons her shirt.

“We're required to double-check. Just know that if you change your mind during, we charge a higher fee.”

Larissa ignores you. You have a feeling this woman can be a handful.

You don’t mind.

You try not to be creepy and stare at her chest as she takes her shirt off, so you go fumble with the massage oils, even though you already have everything ready.

She shimmies out of her skirt, and you can’t resist — you stare at her long legs, clad in nude stockings that are held up with garters. Who even wears garters nowadays? And why does she look so hot in them?

As she undoes the garters and pulls her stockings down, your eyes drift from her legs to her lacy underwear. Your throat is suddenly dry.

Small talk would probably be a good idea. You have to remain professional.

“So, this is your first time getting a massage?"

"Is it that obvious?" she asks, giving you a pretty, practiced smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. You can tell her mind is elsewhere.

"How come you’ve never had one before?”

“Oh, I’ve just never really had the time. But the back pain has really been getting to me lately. I’ve been feeling rather stressed.”

You can believe that — despite being absolutely stunning, the woman is as stiff as a stick. You can tell the woman hasn’t relaxed in decades. Her shoulders and neck appear rigid, her jaw seems to be perpetually clenched, and she wasn’t even able to put her phone aside for five minutes to undress for a massage.

“Oh? Is your job usually stressful or is it just a rough period for you?”

She scoffs. “I think it suffices to say my job requires me to deal with teenagers on a daily basis.”

“That does sound stressful,” you say, deciding not to pry further. You need to shift the conversation away from her job — get her to relax. “I'll try my best to make you forget all about that today, Miss Weems.”

“I do hope you manage that, darling, but I’m afraid I’m a tough case. And no offence, but how much experience do you have with this?” She flashes you a bright smile — it reads as condescending. It pisses you off — and turns you on. “You seem awfully young. Are you in college?”

Definitely more than you since this is your first massage, you want to say, but instead you decide to be polite. “I’ve had sufficient training. And yes, I’m in my last year of college.”

“I must tell you, I’m not sure I believe a massage could relax me — but I’m willing to give it a go, since I’ve already put the time aside for it.”

Oh, you’re never the one to back away from a challenge.

“I hope to change your mind then, Miss Weems.”

She gives you a saccharine, patronising smile, but says nothing.

You’d like nothing more than to fuck that smile off of her face.

You no longer bother averting your gaze as she removes her bra (a sheer, lacy thing that doesn’t cover much anyway) and reveals small, beautiful breasts. Your immediate thought is they’re the perfect size to put in your mouth.

No matter if you’re attracted to your clients or not, you are always professional — you’re here to provide a service that you’re well payed for. You always manage to keep your own feelings and thoughts hidden and under control.

It isn’t every day, however, that you have an actual goddess on your massage table — and one who challenged you, saying you couldn't possibly help her relax. Oh, how you wish she hadn’t chosen the regular massage…

Suddenly, a devious thought pops up in your mind. You could… entice her a bit during the massage. Make her want it.

She appears a bit self-conscious walking to the massage table clad only in nude lacey underwear, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, but she keeps her head high and shoulders back, channeling confidence you aren’t sure she actually possesses. She’s still a vision, however, self-conscious or not. You watch her thighs and ass jiggle as she walks and it’s the most erotic thing you’ve seen in a while.

Should you do it?

She climbs onto the table — she struggles to do it elegantly, as she’s a bit tall for it. You somehow find that very cute. Her ass jiggles as she finally settles face down on the table. You resist the urge to slap it.

Oh, fuck it. It’s your last week on the job anyway.

You smirk as you rub the oil between your palms, warming it up.

You’re going to play dirty.

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Larissa tenses up as she feels soft, warm hands touch her shoulder blades. She isn’t used to people touching her. And to be quite honest, it’s been quite a while since she was naked (or almost naked) in front of anybody. She feels vulnerable.

“Allow yourself to relax, Miss Weems. This is your time.”

Her time — she hasn’t had an hour to herself in… who knows how long. She wants to relax, but it’s just so hard and…

Oh.

She lets out a groan as the girl presses on just the right spot. Oh, that feels good.

“Does that feel good, Miss Weems?”

She hears the smugness in her voice, and she’s tempted to say no just to be spiteful, but then she presses on that good spot again and Larissa melts into the massage table.

“Mhmmm,” Larissa manages to utter.

“Oh? I thought you were hard to please, Miss Weems.”

Now the girl is just being cheeky.

“In my school I punish the smug students when they talk back to me,” she breathes out and then moans as the masseuse finds another spot that makes her brain go fuzzy.

“Oh, you’d like to punish me? That’s kinky.”

Well. This seems to be going in a… direction. Not that Larissa would mind if the situation was different — she’s very much attracted to the girl — but this isn’t that sort of massage place…

….right?

“Are you… allowed to talk to me like that?” Larissa asks.

“Well, if you upgrade to the erotic massage, I can talk to you however you’d like. I could tell you how I’d like you to punish me. Or anything else you want, for that matter.”

Oh. So that’s why everyone kept checking if she wants the regular massage. And why the woman on the phone made sure to inform her they only have female masseuses available. And why the upgrade was so much more expensive.

The masseuse ventures a bit further down Larissa’s back, warm hands slick with oil gliding over her skin until they reach the band of her underwear. She rubs little circles around the edge of the fabric, sticking her thumbs underneath it, teasing, but not going further, and then going upwards again, following the line of Larissa’s spine. Her feather-light touch makes Larissa shiver.

It’s been some time since Larissa was touched like that — couple of years, for sure. Four? No. Six? Oh, heavens. How has it already been that long? She’s just always so busy, and one night stands require so much effort, and dating requires even more, and…

Larissa’s brain is empty as the pretty masseuse runs her hands up her legs and starts to massage her buttocks, oiling them up, squeezing and kneading. Larissa moans quite loudly, and immediately feels her face go red with embarrassment at the sound she just produced.

“I…”

“Of course, there’s no obligation,” the masseuse says, rubbing circles with her thumbs just where Larissa’s buttocks meet her legs. Larissa feels heat pool in her core. “You can have the regular massage.”

“And what does an… erotic,” she stumbles over the word, “massage usually imply?”

“It implies sensual touching, dirty talk, if you want, and we do offer mutual touch for a higher price. Oh, and we guarantee an orgasm.”

Larissa scoffs. “You guarantee it? That’s confident.”

Suddenly she feels hot breath on her ear. She shivers.

“Let’s make a deal, Miss Weems — if you don’t finish, I don’t charge you anything.”

Larissa hears herself speak before she’s aware she even made a decision.

“Deal.”

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You glance at the clock as Larissa accepts your proposal. You have 40 minutes — that should be plenty of time. Worst case scenario, you extend the appointment into your break.

You don’t know what it is about this woman, but you yearn to make her come undone. She’s wound so tight, seems to be some sort of a sick workaholic, and yet you can sense the suppressed desire radiating off of her. It’ll be a special pleasure to make her lose her composure.

You rub her shoulders and back, trying to relax her as much as you can, finding the spots that make her moan, venturing lower and lower on her back.

“Can I take these off?” you ask, lightly pulling on her underwear.

“Yes,” she says, and lifts up her hips to help you slide it off of her.

You fold her underwear, putting it to the side, but not before noticing the distinct wet spot on it.

“I will undress — is that alright with you?” you ask.

“Yes,” she breathes out as you massage her lower back and buttocks. There’s a spot that makes her shiver when you run your hands over it — you make sure to repeat the motion, and you are rewarded with a loud moan.

“Be aware you can revoke consent at any time,” you recite the obligatory line as you strip naked swiftly and efficiently. You do a quick job of rubbing oil on your breasts and stomach and then climb onto the massage table, straddling her legs and pressing your body against hers. She lets out a high pitched moan as you rub your breasts along her back.

“You said something about punishment, Miss Weems? Tell me, do you prefer good girls or bad girls?” you ask as you slide your hardened nipples against her oiled back.

“Fuck,” Larissa groans.

“Or do you prefer being called a good girl yourself?.”

Larissa whines.

“Do you like that, Miss Weems? Wanna be a good girl for me?”

“I— fuck,” she groans as you start running your palms over her thighs, squeezing and caressing, getting closer to her chore with each stroke.

“Is this alright? Be aware you can revoke consent at any time.”

“Yes,” she says.

“So you want to be a good girl, hm?” you say as you finally brush your thumbs against her core. Despite the slick massage oil, you can tell she’s wet. She spreads her legs as you touch her.

“Yes,” she says, quietly — as if she has a hard time admitting it.

“Will you turn for me?”

You help her turn on her back beneath you. Her blue eyes are dark with desire, pupils blown wide, and a few stray hairs are sticking out of her updo. She is flushed in her face and chest, which somehow renders her milky, freckled skin even more attractive.

“Good girl,” you say as you quickly grab more oil and rub it between your palms. She blushes a deeper shade of red.

“I just have to say that I don’t usually… do this,” she says.

Sometimes people feel the need to justify themselves, especially if it’s their first time having an experience like this — and even more so if they’re indulging in a fantasy they consider embarrassing or dirty — no matter if it’s something as common and innocent as being called a good girl.

You rub oil around her breasts and on her stomach. You feel her getting self-conscious, tensing up, glancing around nervously and fidgeting.

“What a pity,” you say, palming her breasts, making her gasp, “that a pretty thing like you doesn’t know how to let herself be worshipped. You’ve been so good, worked so hard — you deserve to be taken care of.”

She produces a quiet whine — she seems to like that. Good. You’re back on track.

“Relax for me, that’s it,” you say, making sure to arch your back prettily, providing a nice view for her as you massage her breasts. You can feel she's slowly relaxing under your touch. “Good girl,” you praise her and run your thumbs over her nipples at the same time. She lets out a throaty moan.

“Is it okay if I use my mouth?” you ask, lowering your head to her chest that's slightly heaving under your touch.

“Yes,” she says with a hoarse voice. You leave a trail of kisses across her chest, the oil greasing your lips, before you take her right nipple in your mouth and suck on it. She keens and her hands immediately fly to your head to press you harder against her chest.

“Fuck, sorry,” she breathes out. “Can I do that?”

“Yes,” you say. “Want me to suck harder?”

“Yes — ah — and bite, please — mmmm, fuck,” she mewls as you suck and bite on her nipple while you pinch the other one with your hand. You use your free hand to caress her torso, her hips, knead the soft flesh on the side of her upper thigh.

“Such a good girl,” you murmur against her breast, taking her hard nipple between your teeth. “Asking for what you want. Is there anything else you want, hm? Or like?”

You run your hand in the inside of her thigh, teasing.

“I, ah… I like… dirty talk,” she manages to say between moans as you bite on her nipple and gently run your fingers through her folds — she’s soaked.

It isn’t a common thing for you to be so turned on by a client — it’s just a job, after all — but the feeling of Larissa’s wetness on your fingers, her wanton, broken moans, her slow, but certain relinquishing of control… it’s just so delicious. You want to fuck this woman every day.

You kiss your way upwards to her neck and plant a hot kiss on her jaw. “Is this okay?” you whisper into her ear. She nods.

“I need you to be a good girl and use your words,” you murmur. Your obligatory line is “I need verbal consent” — but Larissa inspires you to be creative with it.

“Yes,” she says with a breathy voice.

“So you like dirty talk, hm? You’d like me to tell you how hot and wet your cunt is against my fingers? And how much it will turn me on to fuck you?” you whisper, spreading her wetness across her clit, making her gasp and buck her hips into your hand.

“Yesyesyes, please fuck me,” she whines, rolling her hips into your hand. “Fuck me like you’d fuck a dirty slut.”

You feel heat pooling in your own core at her words — and at the idea of fucking this uptight woman like a dirty slut.

You slowly slide a finger inside of her, curling it, and she spreads her legs further. She looks absolutely magnificent like this, flushed, chest heaving, eyes closed, mouth agape and head thrown back, all spread out for you, begging to be ravished. You start pumping your finger in and out — slowly, curling it inside — and she grabs your back and pushes you closer to her. Her gaze is hazy and hooded as she looks at you. “Harder,” she rasps, and the sheer lust in her voice makes you shiver. You go harder.

Her moans are becoming louder as you continue to fuck her, and you decide to add a second finger. “Fuckyes,” she groans and moves her hips to meet your thrusts.

“You look so pretty while I fuck you like a dirty slut,” you say, voice breathy with exertion. “Such a good girl. You look so hot.”

She whines and tangles her hands into your hair. You wouldn’t usually let a client do that — but you let her.

“Add another finger,” she says with a husky voice. She throws her head back and moans as you slip a third finger inside of her, then pushes your head towards her chest. You suck and bite on her nipples, alternating between both breasts as you fuck her hard and fast, making sure to angle your palm so it hits her clit every time you pound into her.

“Go harder,” she pants. Your hand kind of hurts at this point, but you oblige. The pain is immediately forgotten as you feel her starting to clench around your fingers.

“Your cunt feels so good around my fingers,” you murmur before sucking on her nipple.

“Fuckfuckfuuuck,” she whines as you pound into her. You can sense she’s very close. She’s bucking her hips into your hand and digging her nails into your shoulders, and her moans are becoming higher in pitch. You make sure not to falter in your movements, keeping a hard and steady pace, and soon her moans become high-pitched whines and intelligible swearwords.

“Be a good girl and come for me.”

As you say it, she grabs your hair, pulls your face up towards herself and kisses you.

Usually, you’d pull away if a client did that.

You don’t pull away.

It’s a hot, sloppy kiss, and she cries out into your mouth and closes her thighs around your hand as you fuck her through her orgasm. She spasms with the aftershocks and you can taste her cries of pleasure and her hot breath in your mouth. It’s raw and filthy and erotic.

You slowly pull your fingers out of her as she comes down from her high, her breathing slowing down, her grip on your faltering. She's putty in your hands, completely relaxed.

You stay like that for a moment. Her eyes are closed, her chest still heaving. Your hand hurts, but you don’t care.

You glance at the clock — three minutes to spare.

“I’m sorry,” she says, opening her pretty blue eyes. Her mascara is smudged. She looks absolutely ravishing, thoroughly fucked and flushed. “Do I have to go? What time is it?”

“No,” you say. “Take your time.”

She smiles nervously. You can tell she doesn’t know what do say or do — and to be honest, for the first time since you’ve started this job, you don’t really know either.

“Take your time, calm down, and then I’ll help you clean yourself up. I have half an hour to spare. I don’t want you to rush. I don’t charge extra for that.”

She nods, and closes her eyes. You stay like that for a couple of minutes — you rub hear arms, gently and reassuringly.

“Well,” she says after minutes of silence, and smirks. She opens her eyes. “You won the bet. I’m pretty relaxed right now.”

You both laugh.

The cleanup process is not as awkward as you expect it to be. The silence is somehow pleasant, rather than awkward. When you're both dressed and Larissa is heading towards the door, makeup freshly reapplied and her updo redone, she nervously glances towards you.

“So, uh, if I were to… come again,” she says, then pauses, and you can see her wincing at herself for the accidental pun, “would I be able to, um, I suppose, make sure you will, uh—”

“It’s my last week here.”

“Oh.”

She stands at the door awkwardly. “It’s been…” she pauses, glances nervously around the room, clearly struggling to find words. After a couple of moments, she finally meets your gaze, and you shiver under the intensity of it.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice clear and genuine. You can tell she means it.

She turns to leave, but you stop her.

“Wait,” you say. She waits, watches you grab a piece of paper from the side table and scribble on it. You approach her, awkwardly extending your arm, giving her the paper.

“My number,” you say, looking up at her.

She takes it. The corners of eyes crinkle in the loveliest way as she smiles at you before leaving.

She calls you a week later.

#larissa weems #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems smut #larissa weems x reader #larissa x reader #wednesday 2022 #gwendoline christie #i will produce my own garbage and also consume it

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