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pia-nor481 · 2 months
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She…what? Chapter One
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Lando norris x reader (hints at Daniel ricciardo x reader
1.7k words | Series Masterlist
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"Pardon?" Lando exasperated, looking towards his friend. They were sat in his hotel room, even now, no longer teammates, they made a point to go out together, or at least see each other every week. "I'm serious." Daniel replied, unsure as to why his friend reacted in such a way. "I'm not doubting you, I'm having issue comprehending what you've said." Lando spoke quietly, taking a sip of his drink. "She gives the best blow jobs." Daniel stated simply, looking at Lando's raised eyebrow. "Good for you man, but why are you telling me this?" He stood up quickly, to retrieve another drink, and hide his slightly red face. "Come on, I know you've not been laid for a while, plus I think you'd quite like her." Lando was at a loss for words, he walked back towards the bed as slow as possible, it wasn't strange for them to talk about their most recent hook up, but it was never like this. "I'm sorry, you're asking me to fuck some girl you're seeing?" Daniel's immediate response was to roll his eyes, not understanding Lando's struggle. "No, well I'm not seeing her per say. It's a little agreement of sorts."
"So she's a hooker?" Lando said, sounding slightly disappointed, not that he wouldn't be up for it, he was just expecting something different. "No, god no. She's a girl I've been sleeping with? yes. Do I pay for it? No. But it's not a relationship either. It's kind of hard to explain." Lando was sipping his drink throughout Daniel's small speech, he gained a small amount of clarity.
So here Lando was, currently hungover, after a night in a club post race, it was four in the afternoon and he was panicking slightly. Daniel had given him a room number and said that he'd understand everything when he was through the door, but it took a while for him to knock. Realistically, what was he supposed to say? His whole body was filled with a mix of emotions that made it hard to function, he was nervous, shy, and slightly embarrassed. He'd never spoken to anyone with in this context before, so to say he was struggling would be an understatement. The shuffling behind the door got louder and louder until he was met with a beautiful woman. "Hello?" Lando was stunned, she was truly enticing, especially when she spoke. "And who are you?" She said with a warm and sweet tone, a light smile adorning her face. "Lando." He struggled to get his words out, he could see why Daniel would not stop speaking about her. "You're Daniel's friend?" She turned away from him, walking further into the hotel room. It was only now Lando was able to see her fully; She adorned a silk robe, one that framed her so well. She poured him a glass of wine that he took, but chose not to drink. "Yes, I am."
"So, Lando, What did he tell you?" She emphasised his name, making eye contact with him, sipping her drink slowly. "To be honest not much." He looked almost bashful as the words left his mouth. "What would you like to know?" she practically whispered, moving closer, then placing her hand on his knee. She pursed her lips slightly as she began to run her hand further up his leg, making it harder for Lando to think. "What this really is, or what it will be." In all honesty, he didn't know how to act, or what to say. "Whatever you want, well, with in reason....Just not tonight." She jumped up rather quickly, swaying her hips as she walked to the other side of the room, pouring another drink. "Why?" Desperation laced his voice, eyes wide. "There is a lot of things we must sort first, and that will take quite some time." While her back was turned, Lando took this as an opportunity to look around the room. Claiming it was vast would be an understatement. Filled with the hotel's finest furniture with the lights set to a dim, sensual level would be the best way to describe it. But, this coupled with just the sight on her, was slowly turning Lando on. "What do we need to sort out?" His patience was wearing thin, but he was yearning for her already. She paused for a moment, but Lando was too focused on the mirror on the ceiling. "I have to learn about what you like, and you about my limits... You will also have to sign an NDA, no matter your decision." He was surprised with her proposition. 
"NDA?" Lando needed her to elucidate, why would she need him to sign such a thing, and not just the other way around. "You are not the only one with things to lose." She stopped speaking again, and walked into another room, leaving Lando to his thoughts; He had no right to ask about her personal life at this moment in time, however, that didn't stop his curiosity. What did she have to lose? How did she get into this situation? All those questions would go unanswered for a long while. He began to hear her footsteps once again, this time there was a paper in her grasp. "I'll give you a while to read through it." Lando had never read something so fast in all of his life, and so, was quick to reach for a pen. He was feeling warm, but not as dizzy as before, he was certain in is sobriety.  "So....Where do we start?" the driver had never asked so many questions in one day, but he just couldn't help it. He tried not to asked closed questions as he wanted o hear her seraphic voice. "Tell me about what you like, Lando, I promise I wont judge." She winked as she sat beside him again, keeping her body closer than before. He knew what she was asking but he just could not form a coherent response. His brain became foggy, but she waited for a while, trying to coerce him into relaxing slightly. "Let's start simple, do you have any kinks that you have? Or would like to try? It can only be a few for now." She tried not to overwhelm him, knowing this can be quite the stressful situation. With how personal this is, she knew that no matter how confident or extroverted the person was, it would still be very hard. His nerves were overt, so she began to run her hand over his arm and shoulder, waiting for a response. "Um...I like blindfolds...and...mirrors." He was hesitant, but as soon as he saw the smile on her face, his shoulders lowered slightly. "Well, isn't that convenient." 
Lando pulled her closer, practically forcing her into his lap, not that she wasn't pleased with the gesture; happy with his confidence back, she let him speak. "Anything I need to know about you?" His hands slowly danced up her back, trailing along her vertebrae. "A few things, I don't have many hard NOs. But you'll get to find out about that at a later date. I will say, I use the traffic light system. I'm guessing you're familiar with it?" His hands travel back down, groping her ass. "Yeah...Woah, you are responsive." He could feel her shifting in his lap more frequently now. "So, hows this supposed to work?" Lando began to move his hips slightly meeting hers. "I call you, or you call me, and if I'm not busy, you will have my room number, and we go from there." Lando smiled ear to ear, squeezing her thighs slightly rough, testing the waters. "If you're not busy?" He said in jest. "Yes Lando, I'm in very high demand." She laughed lightly, grinding harder. "Oh, so I'm one of the lucky few?" Lando's lips met her neck rather quickly, he began kissing and sucking lightly. "Exactly....Knew I'd like you." He laughed into her skin, waiting for another statement, but it never came. 
She pulled away from him, and he was once again dumbfounded. Lando licked his lips as his eyes raked over her body, he was so excited. But doesn't like to be teased. "Oh come on Sweetheart. Don't do this to me." He stood up, walking towards her, but she just backed away, walking towards the actual bedroom. "Oh Lando, I can't give you everything now, then nothing will be bring you back." She giggled, eyeing him up, she was excited to play with him. But it would be better if she made him wait. "Such a tease, I'll be punishing you for that." He threatened her with an opposing tone. Lando reached for his phone resting on the table as she spoke. "I look forward to it." She said in a sultry tone, backing away from his view. Lando walked towards the hotel door, feeling his phone buzz in his hand. 
"Considering how long you've been, I'd say you liked her" -Daniel 
Lando chuckled, choosing to leave his friend on read, the walk to his hotel room was short, it was only now that he noticed how close her and Daniel's rooms were. Lando continued to ponder until he was met with the number 303. He knocked lightly, knowing his friend was waiting. "So... What happened?" Daniel said, ushering him into the hotel room. Lando was hesitant to say, he was unaware of what happened with them, and didn't want to either say something he's not supposed to, or upset Daniel in anyway. It was a sensitive topic, and although he signed the non-disclosure agreement stating that he could discuss this with Daniel, it all felt a little strange. "We discussed a few things, and she had me sign an NDA. But other than that, not much." Daniel smirked, looking back towards Lando, offering him another drink. "That's good, you were gone for quite some time, so I'm guessing you liked her." Lando nodded, looking away for a brief moment, "Yeah, we uh...made out a little bit." He didn't know how to feel, so many emotions were running through his body, it was making it hard to focus, his hands were shaking slightly, and his eyes unfocused. Lando felt almost intoxicated with her. "Just wait until you're in her mouth." 
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Chapter Two
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livefastdrivefaster · 4 months
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My Other Half | CL16
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Pairing: Charles x Reader
Summary: When Charles accidentally scares you, leading to him anxiously taking care of you. Complete fluff.
Word count: 900 words
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
An old Porsche was sitting in your garage. You managed to get it at a great deal, mainly because the car was close to falling apart. Almost every part needed replacing or some kind of work, and you were beginning to question if you should’ve just built a car from scratch at this point. But you weren’t opposed to the idea of a project, and you had been dreaming of owning this very car since you were young, so Charles stepped in to give you the best birthday present ever.
Because of how old the car was, the suspension was completely worn out. You decided to buy the necessary replacement parts and change it out yourself. You had worked on many cars before, so you weren’t afraid of the challenge, you just really needed to get this one right because the parts were astoundingly expensive. You were underneath the car, connecting the suspension parts to the undercarriage when Charles came home to your shared apartment. 
Not finding you in the main apartment, he knew you were likely downstairs working on the Porsche. Your boyfriend always told you there were too many things about you that he loved to count, but he especially adored your passion for your arguably unique hobbies, but how amazing you were at it all too. You always blasted music through your headphones while working, so you didn’t hear Charles come down into the garage to see you. Seeing your legs peeking out from under the car, Charles smiled to himself, lowering himself to the floor to surprise you. 
At the same time, you realised you had mistakenly grabbed the wrong size wrench for the bolt you were trying to loosen, and turned your head to look for the right tool lying somewhere near you. 
You weren’t expecting to find a face an arm's length away from you. You screamed and instinctively shot up, hitting your head hard on the metal framework above you. Recognising the face as Charles, your body relaxed and you lowered yourself back to the ground, placing your hand over the part of your head that made contact with the car.
“Ah! Y/N, are you okay?” Charles called out, reaching his arm out to you. 
You could only groan in pain as the initial shock of the hit wore off. Charles slides his body underneath the car to lie next to you, petting your head sympathetically. 
“Can you move? Can I get you ice? How much does it hurt?” Charles blurted out his questions at a rapid-fire pace, and you could tell his voice was close to breaking from worry. 
“I’m okay.” You say, giving him a weak smile before rolling out from beneath the car. He follows your movements, moving quickly in his desperation to get back to being next to you. 
You sit together for a moment in silence, backs against the evil, pain-inducing Porsche. You hear Charles mumbling about ice before he jumps up from beside you. 
“I’ll get ice, my love.” He says, darting off upstairs. 
“You don’t have to, Charles, it really isn’t that bad!” You call after him. 
It was. But you didn’t want to send Charles over the edge into a nervous breakdown. You hear some commotion from the kitchen, and the almost certain thud of Charles falling down a few stairs before your boyfriend appears next to you. He crouches down next to you, steadying himself with an arm placed beside your head, and gently places the cool ice on your forehead. You flinch from the harshness of the temperature, and Charles immediately withdraws from you. 
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It’ll only sting for a moment, I promise.” He says quietly, slowly placing the ice back on your pain. You wince a little still, but forget about it all when he leans into you. The remnants of the cologne he applied this morning, mixed with the sweet smell of his post-gym skin filled your senses. You wish you could bottle his scent, and keep it in a locket around your neck forever. It was addicting, just as yours was to him. 
“Mon preux chevalier (my valiant knight).” You sighed. He smiled at you shyly, before dropping his arm beside your head to cusp your face. 
“I am no knight, I did this to you.” He says, concerned eyes darting between yours, rubbing circles into your cheek with his thumb. 
“Yeah, sneaking up on me was pretty stupid, huh?” You say, half-suppressing a cheeky smile.
“Oh,” he says slowly, catching onto your joke, “not my fault you get all jumpy around me, hm? Almost like you have a crush on me, yeah?” 
“Just a little one.” You say, giggling lightly.
His cool complexion breaks at this, unable to stop the soft laugh bursting up his chest, born from the heart you warmed with your mere presence. The moment is brief, but encompassing. Despite the years you had spent with Charles, every day felt like the first night of a young couple’s honeymoon. Giddy and loving. 
“Does it hurt still?” 
“Not at all.”
He tentatively removed the ice from your head, his green eyes glimmering in the golden light of the dying day. Slowly, ever so slowly, he encompassed your body in his own, leaning down to place the most gentle of kisses on your hairline. 
“Ma moitié” 
(My other half)
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partycatty · 1 month
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johnny, kenshi, kung lao, raiden, liu kang > lollipop
thank you for 450 followers! take a chunkier post as my thank you 🫶
suckin on a lollipop n wondering how they'd react >:3
warnings: they all need to be neutered
notes: it's orange flavored btw
[ masterlist ]
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liu kang
• oh he tries, he tries so hard to not let it get to him
• but when your pretty lips part to speak and he catches a glimpse of the color staining your tongue? excuse him while he mad dashes to his quarters to smack one out silly style.
• no, not really. liu kang just avoids eye contact, tries to focus on training. perhaps he'd step away for just a moment to remember how to breathe.
• asks you to not eat during training, as it could be a choking hazard. he really just says that so you'd stop before he gets too hot under the collar.
• makes you hand it to him to discard, but when he sees the string of saliva as you remove it from your mouth you find it hard to miss the twitch in his eye.
• when you notice how much it gets to him, you make an extra effort to look up at him through your lashes when your plush lips pull the lollipop out with a pop. it's almost like a little game, how much you can do it before liu kang snaps.
johnny cage
• johnny couldn't ignore what you were doing, he would probably be under the delusion that you're sucking on it like that on purpose.
• takes several double takes throughout the day, having very little shame in being caught. he'd just grin at you and shrug after a light scolding.
• even when you put your lollipop onto your plate to eat or on the rare occasion you don't have one in, johnny's reeling over the tint to your lips. it looks like a pretty coat of lipstick, and johnny's hand squeezes so tightly on his chopsticks as his mind wanders, the boys wonder if it just might snap in two.
• it takes him some time, he doesn't want to come off as too weird after all, but at some point he draws the line when you flatten your tongue and swipe the lollipop down the entire length. johnny snatches it from your hand and puts it in his own mouth.
• could he recall the flavor, or is he too focused on your spit mixing with his? both! gross.
• winks at you as the stick dangles from his lips, trying not to lose his own mind over the taste.
• "i like this flavor," he cockily observes, pulling it out to inspect it. "tastes like you, sugar."
•...gross. did you even want to share? no. are you complaining? mm, not really.
kenshi takahashi
• kenshi cuts the habit short as soon as he notices. training is his priority. kicks, punches, slashes, the way the lollipop coats with your — NO.
• he coldly hisses orders at you to "spit that thing out." doesn't say why, doesn't say much other than that. what else could he say, "don't do that before i pop a hard-on?" are you crazy?
• speaking of kenshi, he's literally losing his mind over it but puts every ounce of anger he has accumulated since meeting johnny into hiding his expressions.
• "are you always this childish?" crossing his arms and rolling his eyes when you unwrap yet another one from your pocket... how many are in there?
• hell, he might even try to tell on you. might make a stabbing comment every now and then when you're all together to train. choking hazard this, immature that.
• he wants to do what johnny does and just get a taste, but he's not as graceful. yanking it from your lips after catching it on your teeth, kenshi throws it on the ground and stomps on it, shattering the sugary goodness all over the cobblestone floor. sad face :(
• you want to be mad, to rip him a new one for not knowing how to mind his own business, but you A) have more in your room, and B) notice his blatantly obvious red hue to his face, and you know it's not anger.
kung lao
• all the charm, none of the grace. help this man, the image of your mouth haunts him at the unholiest of hours.
• lao would, at times, flick the stick dangling from your lips just to make it crack against your teeth and make you whine in surprise. he'd shrug and walk off, like it was somehow your fault for having a lollipop in the first place.
• he's not oblivious to your subtle advances when your tongue swirls around the flavored orb, and he's no better.
• "you really are shameless, aren't you?" kung lao crosses his arms with a huff, trying to roll his eyes but looking away feels like an incomprehensible task.
• pesters you endlessly, asks about the flavor and brand and if they're just like the ones at home! but he's just doing it so he can admire the glossy tint to your tongue and lips from the artificial dyes.
• stares so hard, raiden has to heel him in the foot so he'd pay attention to liu kang's lectures and announcements. it's like he's the only one that can hear the amplified swirling in your mouth, and he probably is (that is, because he is straining himself to hear).
• lao would ask if you had any extra in your pocket (of course you do!) and pop one into his mouth himself, giving you a taste of what he's been losing his mind over as his pursed lips suck and play with the lollipop. you thought you could get away with toying with him, didn't you? now it's an even playing field!
raiden
• come on, champion, keep it together! everyone notices the static raising their hairs when they walk by. that, and he's white-knuckling the fabric of his robes so hard they might just tear. thank god for his hat, as it conceals both the sun and his creeping blush.
• the sassy man apocalypse infects even raiden. sure, he's not a timid guy in the slightest, but something about how you toy with the candy makes him feel weak in the knees.
• "do you really need to have one at all times?" he'd ask rhetorically as he tucks his hands under his armpits. "those are pretty unhealthy for you." you become a victim of his polite scrutinizing, insisting that that much candy is bound to have a negative effect on you. anything to get you to put that thing away so he doesn't shock the next person he touches.
• raiden is trained, he is disciplined, he knows better than to stare. but the moment you're in his peripherals, he's side-eyeing you so hard you wonder if he's trying to send a telepathic message.
• whining his name as you pathetically jump up to reach his extended arm, clawing at the fabric after he tore away your lollipop the moment you pulled it from your lips. your subtle pouting brings a smug smile to his face as he watches you fruitlessly attempt to climb up his body.
• "four before noon is more than enough," he tuts, looking up at the lollipop before getting a downright evil idea. he's well-mannered and well-spoken, but if the opportunity to toy with you arises, of course he's taking it. boldness is one of his wildcard traits!
• he pulls the lollipop down into his mouth, sucking it in before you have a chance to protest. staring in awe as raiden moves the lollipop around in his mouth, an eyebrow quirked as he stares down at you.
• "hm," he hums, grinning down at you with the stick between his teeth. "this is actually quite nice." and of course, you're too flustered to argue further, instead retreating to your room to get a new one - and calm down from that sight.
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moonsaver · 2 months
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You're certain your professor hates you.
Dr. Ratio was by no means someone who would go easy on you. His unmatchable merit meant almost unreachable standards of discipline and wit, and that extended a rigorous course with a passing percentage of 3%
You and the very few classmates you've had all were aware about what was to come once you signed up for his classes. Continuous, strict teaching, constant supervision, problems so hard it took days to solve. The worst exams were the open book ones – they lasted days.
At some point, your classmates decided to study together as a strategy. All of you would collectively study like maniacs and it did end up with gratifying results.
At least, for everyone else. Except you.
No matter what you did, your grades plummeted more and more from the previous exams. And Dr. Ratio was no shy of calling you out on it, telling you with a looming stature to meet him after class, the strain in his voice already enough for your blood to run cold.
Somehow, however, everytime after class when you sat down with Dr. Ratio, he seemed agitated, but nothing more. Of course, he didn't go easy on you when it came to pointing out every detail of a mistake on your paper, and that was the worst part you had to tolerate. Afterwards.. he was alright. The condescending tone in his voice as he instructed you to read the reference materials wasn't exactly tolerable, but it was better than being called an idiot, a buffoon, a failure in every language he possibly knew.
Although, what would annoy you even more was your study sessions were confined more and more to his office hours. After a few more failing grades, he would extend the amount of time you'd have to sit across him in the suffocatingly silent, sterile room with only an expanse of books that you occasionally interacted with, and a few necessities.
Every time your hand stopped scribbling, or your eyes stopped scanning the text, he would tap the table with a finger, and ask, "done already?" And you'd immediately continue, replying with a meek, "no". Sometimes if you took a while longer to answer out of hesitance, his sharp gaze would snap to you, looking up from one of his thick books, his reading glasses perched lower so that his eyes peeked out from above the lens. That would be enough to snap you from your trance, and get back to writing frantically.
But the arrangement was fine. Until he started getting uncomfortably closer.
Sometimes, he decides watching your eyebrows furrow in frustration is much more entertaining of a pastime during his break to rest his eyes. His office chair creaks a bit as he leans forward, his elbows perched on the desk, resting his chin on intertwined fingers. This was arguably more intimidating to you – his gaze was unimaginably heavy. And you're sure he's aware of it too – his eyes watch the obvious trembling of the pen in your hands, and the tensing of your jaw, as the realisation he's observing you thoroughly flashes in your eyes.
If you weren't so exhausted after taking your leave,you would have at least had the energy to think he was.. enjoying your discomfort.
And things only got worse from there. Sometimes he decides getting up from his chair and looming intimidatingly from behind you is better. At times, he leans down, too close for comfort, his breathing hitting the shell of your ears as you feel his eyes scan your work, and you. Sometimes, a waft of his scent hits your nose. You're sure he can smell yours, too.
In this position, it only gets worse. His arm sometimes rests across your back and his hand hangs firmly on your shoulder, his other hand pointing out a mistake you've made, and moves your writing hand to the exact spot. His condescending voice practically reverberates through you, his warm breath mixing with the cool air around your ear, making you flinch if you're caught off guard. You can only hope his observant gaze didn't see it.
Unfortunately, as helpful as the after-class lessons are, it seems it's not successful enough to get you to pass his course.
At some point, you're in his office almost late in the evening, the entire vicinity is devoid of people, echoes of usually quiet machinery are heard in the hallway. You sit across from him, head hanging from shame, and dread. He sighs deeply, leaning back in his chair, folding his legs.
He'll have to try.. other methods.
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maxislvt · 6 months
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Sink Your Teeth In
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pairing(s): vampire!natasha romanoff x werewolf!reader
summary: Vampires and werewolves were known enemies, but Natasha is more than willing to change that. Even if it's just for one night.
warning: amab!reader, blowjobs, sub!reader, slight dubcon
a/n: ummm nat gives the best head case closed
Event Masterlist
Werewolves and vampires were always at odds with each other. Not a thousand years could go by without vampires attacking werewolves or werewolves attacking vampires. It was all the same bloodline ending bullshit. 'Your father killed mine and now I must kill you!' over and over again. Some of those fathers weren't even worth killing anyone over. It was truly a shame that no one could see how compatible the two factions were. Vampires were strict, organized people that valued loyalty above all else. Werewolves were nothing short of loyal and obedient, you just had to train them. Natasha was so close to finding the perfect werewolf for her to prove that. 
Natasha had tried many times to tame a werewolf, but she'd run into a number of problems. They could be taught, but not many of them were willing to learn— especially not from a vampire. As disappointing as it was, it wasn't exactly a shock. A millennium long feuds were rarely ever one sided. Her previous attempts were also foiled by pride, shame, and simply being too boring to have any real fun.
So, Natasha spent another Friday night on the prowl.
Club Sonar was a rather interesting place. A tall building in the middle of nowhere buzzing with all forms of life. Monsters from all over the globe came together under the moon just to party. It was a messy place. The music was loud, bodies grinded against each other without a care, and secrets of all kinds were shared over the strongest alcohol. Though cultures mixed, money did not. 
Each floor of the bar was more expensive than the last. The alcohol got smoother, the music got slower, and the floors actually got cleaned. Upper floors were for people who supported the cause but had no interest in getting dirty. Natasha had more than enough money to sit at the top floor, but that wasn't any fun. She'd never find what she was looking for if she stayed up there. 
Werewolves were just as wealthy as vampires, but they were rowdy. They liked to play rough and get dirty. Big fancy houses just didn't appeal to them as much. Fancy clubs appealed to them even less. Natasha wasn't looking to tame someone — not to say her hand couldn't be forced — she was looking for someone soft and easy to mold. 
You weren't the easiest to find. Despite your size, the people on the dancefloor had no trouble pushing you around. You kept your head down no matter where you went. Natasha could tell you weren't there on your own, which made it harder to take you home. Not too hard though.
"This really isn't your scene," she said when she took the bar stool next to you. It was hard to keep her eyes in the right place. Your shyness was adorable, but there was no denying what she was really feeling. 
You looked around to make sure she was actually talking to you.  Though you weren't opposed to the conversation, it was hard to believe such a pretty woman had approached you. "Um, no. My friends wanted to come here. I mean it's cool just…couldn't we have a library or something? There's no point in intermingling if you're too drunk to remember what you're kissing."
Natasha laughed and scooted closer to you. "I guess you're right, but there's no shame in being curious. Right?" She looked at the glass in front of you. "Oh, that just won't do." Before you could interject, she tapped the countertop twice and brought over the bartender. It was a quick exchange, you didn't even see Natasha pull out any cash. Despite your confusion, you didn't put up a fight. You were exactly what Natasha was looking for. 
Guilt filled your eyes when you looked down at the fresh cocktail in front of you. Was it more rude to let it go to waste or ask the bartender for a refund? "Oh, you really didn't have to do that." Your hands hesitantly wrapped around the glass before taking a sip of the alcohol. The burn hit you immediately, but you tried to play it off. You tensed up to hold in the coughing fit building up in your chest. "It's…great, thanks," you forced out through a tight chest. 
Natasha gave you a firm pat on the back to force you to cough. She took away the glass and slid this towards you. "I would expect a werewolf to have a stronger alcohol tolerance," she said teasingly. Her hand stayed on your back even after your coughing had subsided. 
You shook your head. "A lot of us have sensitive pallets. I can taste whatever crappy oak barrel they made this in." There was an unexpected comfort in the way she touched you. "I should have asked this earlier, but what's your name?" You sat up straight as her hand moved down your back. You never really paid attention to your posture, but you had the strange urge to be better around her. 
"My name's Natasha, but you can call me Nat if you want. What's yours?"
"My name is Y/N. I don't really have a nickname, but whatever you come up with is fine." 
The conversation continued without trouble. Natasha seemed so enamored with how strong your pallet was. At the expense of Natasha's wallet and your sobriety, you had tasted just about every drink the bar had to offer. Eventually, you settled on just drinking strawberry daiquiris while you two talked. 
Natasha pulled your seat closer to her and she leaned down to whisper in your ear. "So how many more of those little smoothies do I have to buy to take you home with me?" Her hand slid up your thigh and gave it a firm squeeze. She could feel your dick twitching already. "I promise I'll only bite where it feels good."
You practically jumped out of your skin when Natasha kissed your neck. It was quick, but you could feel the pointed tips of her fangs brush against your skin. "Um..Can I finish this one first?" Before Natasha could say anything else you pulled out your phone and texted your friends. 'Leaving with a hot lady, ttyl!' was all you sent before cutting off your phone and downing the last of your drink. 
Natasha adored your enthusiasm. "I promise I'll get you home safe in the morning." She kissed your neck one last time before dragging you outside to her car. It was a good thing she brought her chauffeur along because there was no way she'd be able to keep her hands off you the entire ride home. 
You stumbled behind Natasha as best you could. Vampires were usually weaker than werewolves, but you were a little too tipsy to show your strength. You let Wanda push you into the backseat of her car. One sniff of the air and you could tell someone else was in the car. "You have a chauffeur?" Natasha covered your mouth and pushed you further into the backseat. 
"Home," was all she told the driver before closing the partition and focusing her attention on you. "Yes, but I promise the back of the car is soundproof." It certainly wasn't, but she needed to hear how whiny you could get. Natasha practically pounced on you after she closed the door. The kiss was hot and passionate. Your fangs bumped against hers every time your lips collided. "Can you taste what I drank earlier?" She asked with a giggle. 
A whine escaped your lips when Natasha pulled away. "Um…a lot of vodka and cooper..?" Your answer earned you another kiss. Natasha's lips felt like heaven against yours. She overwhelmed all your senses in the most delicious way possible. You didn't even notice how hard you'd gotten. "You smell…really good." You mumbled in the handful of seconds between kisses. 
She chuckled but didn't respond. You were too cute. "I'm going to make you feel so good tonight." Natasha's kisses moved down the side of your jaw until she reached the base of your neck. Her hands wasted no time undoing your belt and tossing it on the car's floor. One of her fingers circled around the tip of the tent in your pants while she watched you squirm. "You're so sensitive."
You opened your mouth to speak only to be interrupted by a string of cursing and desperate whimpering. "Sorry, I'm just new to all of this," you confessed. It was a little hard to imagine your first time going to a bar would take such a turn. 
"Don't tell me someone as cute as you is still a virgin." Your silence was enough. It was as arousing as it was disappointing. Natasha didn't want to go slow by any means, but the thought of getting to corrupt that innocent little mind of yours was exhilarating. "I promise I'll be extra gentle with your little friend." 
The car parked before Natasha could pull down your boxers. Natasha's lust-driven craze left you in quite an awkward position while waiting for her to unlock the door. Holding your pants up only made your bulge stand out more and there was an obscene amount of lipstick covering your neck. You hoped Natasha wasn't secretly vampire famous or else you'd be in real trouble. 
Natasha pulled you into her home and wasted no time undressing you. Your shoes, shorts, sweater, and T-shirt littered the soft carpet. Natasha had you completely naked by the time she pushed you onto the bed. "You're making a mess already," she whispered seductively as she crawled onto the bed. Her eyes focused on the way your member throbbed and leaked precum. 
Your eyes followed Natasha's as she began stroking your member. It was tortuously slow, but it felt good. A near-pornographic moan fell from your lips as your head tilted back. "Your hands are so soft," you whimpered pathetically. All your willpower went into staying still. You didn't know what to do with yourself. "C-can I touch you too?" You blindly reached out and grabbed the first thing you could feel. Mindlessly, you groped the soft flesh in hopes that it would make Natasha feel good too. Your face burned bright red as she moved your hand to where her breast actually was. “Sorry…I wasn’t looking,” you mumbled. 
Natasha kissed up the underside of your cock before licking all the way down to the base. “A good pup would pay attention to someone making them feel this good.” She waited until you looked down at her. Once she was sure you wouldn’t look away, she swallowed you down to the base. Her cheeks hallowed out as she began sucking you off.
Your hips twitched and your eyelids fluttered, but you tried your best to keep your eyes open. As your orgasm got closer, you found it harder to control yourself. An animalistic growl ripped through your throat as you tried to control yourself. Your fangs forced themselves out of your mouth and your claws had nearly ripped Natasha’s sheets. “W-wait, slow down,” were the only words you could get out before it happened. 
Hot white cum painted the inside of Natasha’s throat as she swallowed down everything you gave her. Natasha didn’t give you a break and continued until you pushed her away. “Is that all you have left?” She blew on your bulbous tip before giving it a kiss.
“N-no, I just…I need a second. That’s all.”
965 notes · View notes
idlesana · 5 months
Text
dear sana, i know about your affairs
minatozaki sana x fem reader ; angst, open ending, ft. miyeon
summary: your dear sana, dear sana who is caught up in “work” which just so happens to be seeing another woman
cw: cheating, cursing, sexual mentions, not proofread
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dear sana, stay safe and healthy throughout work today!
sana smiles, folding the paper and pocketing it, leaving far before the sun could rise.
she wonders for a moment, wonders at what time do you set out these notes so she doesn’t see them until she leaves. the thought quickly wipes her smile, she doesn’t like thinking of you up, not able to sleep, still devoting your time to her— only her. sana frowns.
she shuts the only light on, in the kitchen, making the room glow eerily by only the moon and cityscape lights beaming in through the large window, spread through your living room.
the high rise apartment you and sana got together, or, sana got, insisting you move in with her. her smile reappears at the memories, she feels warm, for some reason. she contemplates shutting the kitchen light off and slipping back into her pajamas, spending the day with you.
ding!
mi : are you on your way, baby?
sana frowns, again. she let’s out a small huff, or groan, or a mix, but nevertheless, leaves the apartment, letting the door shut behind her, making sure to guide the handle to suppress the sound as much as possible.
even if she was cheating, she still cared for your rest, still cared for you.
“don’t you think her hours are a bit…?” nayeon trails, leaving the the word she wants to say in thin air, knowing the suspicion she had was valid, but also knowing the declaration of said suspicion could be problematic.
“i mean, she’s a ceo, is she not?”
to be fair, you’ve had the same suspicions, from the exact moment sana started to come home smelling of lilacs and roses instead of her strawberry and peony mixture.
“sure, but, it’s just…” nayeon looks around, chewing on her straw as she lets synonyms bounce around in her head, ultimately settling on, “strange.”
“i- well,” it’s stuttered, your fingers tapping on the table anxiously, now gnawing on your bottom lip, trying to find courage to voice your worries. you don’t want to give in and say that you’ve been thinking this for a while now, because your sana would never, but, this sana may not be yours anymore. you furrow your brows tightly.
you cared about sana, loved her, loved her more than anyone or anything, and you’d never want to doubt her, but, she made it hard. not hard to love her, of course, but hard to hold out hope.
she’s always leaving at the wee hours of morning, leaving you alone until the late, late hours of night.
“you’re right, i’ve been, kinda on edge.” you try and shrug it off, but the bouncing of your leg under the table is a dead giveaway to nayeon, who can feel the shaking of the table.
she runs a hand across the table, cupping it over one of your own, “i’m sure it’s fine, y/n. let’s not worry.”
she smiles, warm and genuine, betraying the blatant lie she tells.
she wasn’t sure it was fine, not one bit.
dear sana, i miss you, lots. i feel like we don’t see much of each other these days.
sana surprisingly isn’t leaving when she finds the note, but maybe worse, coming home.
it’s 4 AM and she knows she’s practically caught at this point, all disheveled and sweaty, but she can’t help but sit and stare at the note. she tries to pat down her hair, but there’s not much use, maybe the sloppily tie or crooked buttoning of her shirt was more so the giveaway.
the note still has her frozen, chest tightening with each heave. she wasn’t so sure how much longer she could keep this up— and to make matters worse, she didn’t know if keeping up meant staying with miyeon, or staying with you.
“sana?”
she snaps her head up, lips parted, eyes widened.
you stand, baggy tee, hers, baggy sweats, hers, cute kitty socks, gift from her to you. her heart twists.
you move to rub an eye, sleep still weighing in your movements, her heart stings.
“y/n.” she sticks the note back to the counter, shuffling around the island, taking steady, hesitant steps toward you.
she feels a familiar pressure build in her throat, a burn of tears forming at the back of her eyes.
“oh, y/n.” she stumbles at you, throwing arms around your waist, pulling you into her, feeling your nose tickle her neck just how she likes. the tears almost slip, she’s happy, but also, so, so sad.
you breathe in and out through your mouth, puffing warm air into her, doing so as to not smell the other woman on her. just to have her as yours, even just for the night.
she’s holding you tight, her body shuddering slightly against yours, and you hold her as tight as you can.
“god, y/n, i love you.” you hear the warble in her voice, the shaky inhales and exhales.
“i know. i love you.” you mutter back, pressing a soft kiss to where her neck and jawline meet.
“y/n, i’m s-so sorry.” you can tell she’s crying now, shaking a little harder in your arms. you feel your heart crack, her words confirming your worst fear.
“i know.”
you’re occupying space in nayeon and chaeyoung’s apartment, letting them pamper you as sana, is at your shared apartment.
you aren’t sure why, why she took work off, why she isn’t with her mystery woman. but you try to not let it bother you, though, that’s not working too well.
“i don’t really know what to do.” you look down at your lap, fingers toying at the promise ring sana got you.
“i mean, isn’t it obvious? you should-“ chaeyoung smacks a hand over nayeon’s mouth, silencing whatever dumb, unthoughtful remark she had in the makes. nayeon side eyes her, but doesn’t move away, knowing she was deserving of it.
“maybe talk to her, y/n.”
chaeyoung looks unsure, but you’re grateful to her being the wiser between the two girls, despite her being younger. she tries to show remorse in her eyes, and you smile, it’s sad, but you try, for her.
“okay.”
you shut the door behind you, for once, it’s you sneaking in late. instead of being sweaty and hot, you’re freezing cold, eyes red and puffy.
you’d taken a lap around your block as soon as you made it home, not sure how to face the inevitable— sana.
one turned to two once you couldn’t stop crying, and now your body is chilled to the touch, all except your face, still flushed from the tears.
you cross to the kitchen, ignorant to the hum of the tv, focused on the way your keys clang on the table. you start to space, and you’re sure it’s from exhaustion, blinking slowing as you stare at the keys, mind somewhere else, for a moment.
maybe you’re trying to settle your mental battle of ‘sana or no sana’, because at this point, it’s not much you fighting for what you want, but you fighting for ways or reasons to keep her— because losing seems beyond inevitable.
“hey.” you blink, once, twice, and definitely quicker than you were before because that isn’t your voice and definitely not in your head.
but you know the voice, you know it too well.
“hi, sana.” you murmur, voice almost getting caught in the atmosphere of the room, but sana hears you, she always does.
she clenched her jaw, nervous before you for the first time since you’d started dating, she’s positioned at your side, but god does she want to be closer.
she opts to lean on the table, hands grasping the edge of it as a way to take out her stress.
“you got home late.” it’s weak, and to you, you can tell sana’s been crying all day, her voice is hoarse and not in the way it is in the mornings, now it just sounds painful to talk.
you look up to her, tears welling in your own eyes again.
because sana, sana always looks so gorgeous, even with red eyes and nose, even when she’s hurting. you want to be mad, you want to ask why she’s crying when she’s the one who cheated, but you know sana would never be so evil.
you gnaw at the inside of your cheek, trying your hardest to keep the tears at your waterline from slipping down your skin.
“yeah, sorry, i was with nayeon.” you push away from the table, crossing your arms before you as you just stare at her. sana’s eyes flicker to something else, and she furrows her brow.
“nayeon? why were you alone with her?” sana’s gripping the table firmer now, jaw visibly clenched and you scoff.
“sana, am i really the person between us who should be getting berated right now? for being out with my friend? at least i’m not fucking someone else right behind my girlfriends back.” it’s a lot, and you’re not sure you said everything right, but it’s fine, you’re emotional, you’re bound to stutter on words. bound to mess up.
you want to move away from sana but her pull is too strong, and that’s when you feel the heat return to your cheek, wet hot slipping down and pooling at your chin.
sana looks as distressed, anger replaced with an unreadable sadness in her eyes. she can’t speak, but her chest is rising and falling quicker with each breath.
you roll your eyes, moving to push through to your room.
“i’m going to bed, sana.” and with that, you cross pass sana, avoiding touching her by any means, to no avail, because she’s grabbing your arm and tugging you into her.
“please don’t leave me.” sana whimpers against you, you still in her arms, feeling her body shake vehemently. your back is to her front, her face nuzzled into your hair as she cries, and suddenly your anger is replaced with worry.
because who were you fooling, you’d never not be loving sana. you turn in her arms, struggling, but nonetheless, wrapping your arms around her as she tugs you closer by the waist.
“please don’t.”
the sun leaking through the blinds is what wakes you, not sana’s warmth slipping away from you, which, gives you hope. especially when you feel her arms still possessively wrapped around your torso.
something about it warms your heart, but maybe too much, because you swear it stings a little being with her.
you shift in her arms, trying to move away from her grip, because no matter how good it feels, there’s still that lingering in your heart.
sana groans, tugging you closer into her, still half asleep but muttering “don’t leave”— memories from last night settle in your head.
it only fuels you to pull away more, eventually slipping from her arms, the warmth leaving your body, you can’t tell if you like it more than being in her arms or not. but, that’s a mental battle for you to fight later.
for now, you’ve decided to go out, specifically, back to holding up space in nayeon’s apartment.
dear sana, i can’t tell if i love or hate you, or maybe a mix of both. what would i call it when it hurts so badly to be near you, but i’m a masochist?
sana’s sat at the island, atop a stool, fingers caressing the pen ink that was imbedded into the cute pink slip of paper. her mind racing, panicked on the inside but keeping a cool exterior, ignoring the buzz of her phone.
miyeon had been blowing her up since yesterday, unfortunately.
sana was fighting her own mental battle, but, she sorta already knew the outcome. she knew she’d stay with you, the only trial left for her to face was if you’d stay with her.
she moves her eyes for the first time all day, it feels, opting to look at her phone screen, ignorant to all those messages, instead focusing on the time: 8:34 PM.
you should be home soon, she wants you home to her, her heart hurts more thinking how you must’ve felt all those nights.
she groans, letting it echo through the barred apartment, putting her arms before her to rest her head in them, ignoring the discomfort in her spine at the bend.
she shuts her eyes, whining and frustrated, she slips into her thoughts again.
never had she ever regretted something so bad.
you got home at 10, sharp. jittering the key in and out of the lock a couple times, struggling with cold fingers. but, once you push inside, you lock eyes to sana, smiling softly, but visibly nervous.
“did you wait for me?” you ask, teasing, but with an underline of mocking, shocked the roles had finally swapped.
“of course.” sana tries to keep her smile up, she’s sleepy, but, nonetheless, willing to stay up longer, willing to for you.
“i’m shocked— you’re not out for once.” you pause when you slip off your shoes, continuing when you stand up, eyes narrowed over sana. you walk toward the island, ending up on the opposite side, facing her.
“i’m no longer seeing her, i haven’t, for some time.”
“since i found out?” you grit your teeth, rolling your eyes at her, but unmoving. sana stays hopeful, only huffing before straightening her posture.
“yeah, since you found out. but, i want to clear it up, clear up things with,” she waves her hands around, “her.”.
you scoff, leaning over the table slightly, head in your palms, “go on.”
“i don’t love her, like i love you. in fact, i don’t care for her at all.”
you mull over what she said in your head, trying to not let the ‘i love you’ get you flushed, trying not to fall for her words, even though you know it’s inevitable.
“by the way, your note is gorgeous. the way you voice your feelings has always been— incredible to me.”
again, you huff, forcing yourself to stand tall at the face of sana’s charms.
“if you don’t love her, by the way, why cheat on me?” you feel a small burning at your eyes, and you know your not long to cry, but you try swallowing it down.
sana stills, unsure on how to answer, because why did she?
“i wish, i wish i could tell you.” sana sighs, new sadness over taking her features, and you can’t bare look at her, looking down at the counter.
you try to blink you tears away, but it only makes things worse when you’re facing down. tears spattering to the marble countertop.
“oh, y/n.” sana mutters, you hear a chair screech soon after, followed by light footsteps, and you brace yourself by clenching the table tighter.
and sana, of course, engulfs you in her arms, tugging you into her, her warmth, her oh so familiar arms that somehow make you feel better, even when crying over her.
“it’s okay, i promise, we can do this.” she mutters into your hair, pressing a small kiss into it, gripping you a little tighter, and you wish you didn’t love the comfort of her touch so bad.
you sob a little harder, throwing your arms around her hopelessly, taking in her perfume, all her now, no longer did she reek of another woman.
“please, stay, we can do this.” sana hums, followed by more quiet whispers of affirmation, and you feel yourself slipping more, because how could you stay away from sana?
she leans down a little, grazing her jaw against your own, the skin to skin making you shudder in her arms.
“i love you, y/n.” she whispers to your ear, warm and right into your ear. you can’t tell if she’s helping or making it harder for you.
“please, stay with me.”
how could you say no to her?
657 notes · View notes
rookiesbookies · 2 months
Text
Konig and His Loser
Sex Doll AU, here's the one that won my poll. sorry he took so long- big thank you to @shotmrmiller for helping me edit and get it to perfection ❤️
Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, check out my AU list for more like this. Don’t forget to leave me a comment (i always try to respond) or a request in my inbox (i also try to respond to these when I can), a reblog, or even just a like to let me know what yall want to see!
Konig seemed pretty similar to the other stories but she had found him in a magazine. A simple magazine ad, but she just called it in, why not right?
Well, she hadn’t read the size well and was lucky that they had to call a moving company to get him in from the warehouse. 
She couldn't believe her luck as she watched the movers gingerly maneuver the box that held Konig through the narrow hallway of her apartment building. 
As they finally managed to get Konig into her living room, just from the outside of his box she could tell he was huge.
After fighting open the box once the movers had left, she stood back in awe, taking in every intricately carved detail of his frame. His features were striking yet delicate, a perfect balance of strength and vulnerability that seemed to draw her in deeper with each passing moment.
Once freed she saw that he was a masterpiece in person, not done justice by the pages of that damned ad, a work of art that had seemingly materialized from her dreams onto the glossy pages of the magazine ad. 
Especially his scars. The big ugly ones that littered his face. He looked like whatever mask he had come with had caught on fire at some point. She had a hard time telling if it was by design or not.
She spent hours just sitting in front of him, tracing the lines and curves of his form with her fingertips, feeling his skin and texture. He felt so close to human. It was as if he held a piece of her soul within him, a connection that transcended time and space.
Over the days that followed, she found herself drawn to Konig more and more, losing herself in the depths of his enigmatic presence. She tried hard to figure out how to 'activate' him as he did turn on in the instruction manual. They manual made it clear there seemed to be one, but as she fiddled with his clothes and appercence to try to turn her new toy on.
She truly did her best but she had been watching some movies from her childhood on reruns when the idea of 'true love's kiss' jumped into her mind.
She felt him breathe against her after she planted it softly on his lip. His hands moved to her hips and pulled her closer and over his lap. He held her close, his touch familiar and comforting, but maybe that was just her delusion. She could feel the warmth of his body against hers as they embraced in the dimly lit room. 
The soft patter of rain on the windows created a soothing background melody to their not so silent dance. She nestled into his arms, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Time seemed to stand still as they lingered in that moment of intimacy, savoring the connection that bound them together. 
Despite the mask that concealed his identity, she knew him intimately and cherished the bond they shared beyond words or appearances in some deep, almost spiritual way. And so they remained entwined, two souls intertwined in a delicate balance of love and uncertainty, lost in the beauty of their silent embrace.
He stayed quiet, almost scary quiet and they kissed over his mask. Feeling eachother’s lips through the fabric of an old t-shirt.
His hands moved lower, tracing the curves of her body as he rid her of her pajama pants. She gasped at the touch, her skin tingling with desire. His fingers were gentle yet firm, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, his tough fingers from working on the field roaming her.
She couldn't help but feel self-conscious as his eyes roamed over her exposed body. He didn't seem to mind. In fact, his touch was filled with such tenderness and adoration that it made her heart swell with emotion.
He kissed her again, keeping the thin barrier of his mask, his lips demanding and insistent. She responded eagerly, losing herself in the passion that consumed them both. For a moment, she forgot about everything else - the world outside their room, their past lives and all their struggles. All that mattered was this moment and the overwhelming sense of love they shared. His hulking figure even more imposing with all his gear on.
His hand traveled lower, teasing between her legs until she moaned against his lips. He continued to explore every inch of her body until she was trembling with desire.
He lifted her onto her couch. He scooted up and put her legs over his shoulders and just went to town after draping his mask over her lower lips. It was like he was starved, leaving her gasping. He was messy, her slick coating his face before he lifted himself and leaned her back. He whispered some coaxing things in a language she didn't understand, she assumed they were coaxing at least.
With hesitation, he guided his delicious uncut cock inside of her, it barely escaped his heavy military pants, and she gasped at the sensation. It wasn’t similar to anything she or he had ever experienced before - a perfect pleasure that sent shivers down her spine. He was so big, long, a girthy that she couldn't believe it. She was so on Cloud 9 that she felt like she couldn't breathe. It was like his dick was up in her throat stopping any words from leaving her. His tip hit her cervix and his breathing got heavy with hers as he tore off his helmet with one hand and went back to kissing her, draping his mask over the lower half of her face. Her eyes were rolling around her skull, she was high on the way he rubbing on her insides. The feeling was a certain type of suffocatingly delicious moment as their breaths mixed under his mask.
As they moved together in some perfect harmony, it felt like they were two pieces finally coming together to complete each other's puzzle. She was lost in his embrace, finding solace and comfort in their shared intimacy.
When they finally reached their climax, it felt like fireworks exploding in every corner of the room. He collapsed as gently as he could onto his forearms to keep from falling on her, breathing heavily as they basked in the aftermath of their love.
For a while, they lay there in silence, feeling content and fulfilled in each other's presence. As the rain continued to pour outside, they remained wrapped up in each other- two imperfect beings finding perfection in their love for one another.
All she could think about was, from how he panted like a dog, maybe he was a loser too.
365 notes · View notes
Text
"Whiskey sour? Classy." - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader
[TW: insults, harassment, explicit language]
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🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀 || TOPGUN-inspired playlist
SUMMARY: When new aviators arrive at the base, Rooster invites you to hang out with the Dagger Crew and the freshmen. One of the newcomers gets in over his head and Rooster gladly accepts the honour of bringing him down a peg: no one gets to talk trash to the eventual Mrs. Bradshaw.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k
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"Hey, Bradshaw, where'd you leave wifey?" Hangman asked.
Although the group was disillusioned about the seriousness of your relationship, the nickname came into existence only after they witnessed you nagging at Bradley for being irresponsible after he came back with Maverick. Truthfully, he liked how it sounded - for you to be called his wife.
The Hard Deck was booming with life, filled with twice as many people as it usually was. It was supposed to be a sort of welcoming party for the newcomers but mixed with the locals - it was simply Miramar showing off its essence, the brash young blood pumping the town's atmosphere with new, exciting energy.
"Should be here any moment. Maybe I'll tell her you missed her."
"Careful, she might just run to me."
Bradley was about to continue the friendly scuffle with Jake but Pete tapped him on his shoulder and pointed you out in the crowd by the bar:
"Found your missus, kid."
For a moment, the whole world stopped just so Rooster could admire the woman he had the highest honour of calling his. You were wearing a thin bodycon dress - the very same one he associated with long, sleepless nights and the plethora of beautiful sounds you could make. The light, sunny yellow colour looked lovely on you, bringing summer heat into the onlookers' hearts. You wore the same makeup you always did, your hairdo wasn't different either but for some reason, spotting you in the faraway crowd, Bradley felt the same way he did the first time he saw you. He remembered how embarrassingly nervous he was and how his mouth dried out when you stared at him with a smile. From that day on, his condition was only getting worse.
"Just don't drool," Phoenix warned him. The group laughed and Rooster was momentarily brought back to the present day. The sound of cue balls hitting one other resounded in his ears together with the very bar-like sounds of laughter, the click of glass and 80s hits playing on the jukebox.
The game of pool resumed but not for long:
"Lieutenant Bradshaw, there's an enemy on the front line," Maverick announced while vaguely pointing towards your direction. With furrowed eyebrows, Bradley turned around to see what Pete was talking about. There you were: standing awkwardly next to one of the newcomers who was leaning against the bar. In a way, he understood the interest in your beauty. To him, you always looked like a star but Bradley was far from objective - he did, after all, give you those dreamy, puppy eyes of a fool in love while you were wearing a stained hoodie with your university's logo, sleeping and drooling on the pillow. "He's going for the kill, the very classy chest check."
Clenching his jaw, Bradley passed his cue to Bob, who gladly accepted it. The game of pool was temporarily withheld as the Dagger Crew watched the ordeal unfold with great interest. Rooster stormed through the crowd towards you and Maverick set his beer down, getting ready for the approaching 'overboard' or a fistfight.
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You've never seen the Hard Deck packed the way it was that night. All the khaki uniforms were blending into one, beige mob, giving a quite humorous impression that it was you who was dressed inappropriately for a night out at a bar. Somehow, it made you happy to see Hard Deck bursting with life - for once, Miramar wasn't just a military town at the end of the world. Squeezing through the beige crowd, you finally reached the counter, only to be greeted by Penny's wide smile.
"Good to see you, (Y/N). Prince Charming's been waiting for you." She vaguely pointed towards the laughing group of aviators playing pool with too many people. Among the sea of military uniforms, Bradley's Hawaiian shirt looked adorably out of place. Although he looked better in blue, that grey shirt he was wearing had to be your favourite - the very same he wore when you met him for the first time.
"Oh, come off it," you laughed. A flustered blush warmed up your face. The rouge on your cheeks slightly camouflaged the flush.
"Hey, I'm not the one calling you wifey."
For a moment, your eyes were glued to Rooster, watching him just having fun with his friends. There wasn't a day where you didn't praise the whim of the cosmos for making Bradley love you. Penny laughed seeing the buttery look on your face. Honestly, she found it quite adorable that years had gone by, the two of you had grown older and matured but the hopeless love of your younger days still stayed around and threatened to never abandon its post. Despite that, she was grateful she didn't have to witness you at the start of your relationship when lovers tend to be more embarrassing than should be humanly possible.
"He could make a ring out of spit and cheese puffs and I'd say yes in a heartbeat," you confessed. Truthfully, the idea of actually marrying him had been haunting you for a few weeks. Those wandering thoughts were always cut short when your imagination began painting you and Bradley as parents, suddenly flustered with the seriousness of the daydreams.
"Now, don't go around giving him stupid ideas." Although it was meant as a scolding, Penny's amused tone made her words sound not serious. "Just tell him. Anyway, what will you have? The usual?"
"You're a woman after my own heart, Penny."
"That I am, sweetheart. One whiskey sour coming right up."
"Thank you!" you called after her.
Penny barely turned around to prepare your drink and serve another round of beers, when someone approached you:
"Whiskey sour, huh? Classy." The man was, too, wearing the khaki uniform. He was leaning against the bar, trying to appear all suave and nonchalant; the position made the muscles in his toned arms even more accentuated and you just knew he did it on purpose.
"I guess you could say that," you answered with a disinterested shrug. It was, after all, only a drink: nothing to gatekeep or make a competition out of. Whatever one drinks, the hangover always tastes the same. "The first drink I ever had."
"Then it must've been quite recently, no?" he asked with a grin. "You sure you're old enough to be here, little lady?"
"That's a strange way to say I look young." An awkward chuckle left your lips. You just wanted to deviate the conversation from further going down the uneasy lane. "Zeus?" you read from the patch on his uniform. "Where'd that come from?"
"The real answer is that I got electrocuted in the academy." After his explanation, the man's gaze audaciously dropped to the deep cleavage of your dress. A cold shiver of discomfort run down your spine. "The cool answer is that I'm just great with the ladies."
To your own, deepening horror, his eyes remained below your chin as he spoke. Did he really think it would work on someone?, you asked yourself. Some more naive part of you believed he was oblivious to his inappropriate behaviour or maybe he was being creepy just for the shock factor.
"Can you... stop staring at my breasts?" you asked awkwardly after a longer while. Uneasiness was dripping from your words and, judging by the livid expression on Rooster's face, not only from them.
Zeus scoffed and his self-assured grin momentarily turned into a strange mixture of lewdness and mischievousness, making your skin crawl.
"Come on, you want me to stare, doll," he said in a low voice. Zeus licked his lips and you felt your whole body tense up. Although he hadn't touched you, his awful way of being made you feel dirty - and not the kind one can scrub off in a hot shower. "If you didn't, you would've covered up."
"What the hell, man," you heard yourself saying. The situation was so odd and awkward, that you had no idea how to act. Flustered at the unwanted attention, words were stuck in your throat. You were telling yourself to go, just leave the man as fast as you could but for some strange reason, you found yourself unable to move like a deer caught in the headlights; only at that moment, the figure of speech could be taken quite literally.
"I know you're just teasing me, sweetheart," Zeus confessed as if he was letting you in on a big secret. "But I prefer a straight game."
Zeus reached for your bare shoulder but someone stopped him. Rooster's fingers were wrapped so tightly around the man's wrist, that their skin turned white. The sight of the familiar Hawaiian shirt allowed you to take a deeper, only slightly calmer, breath. Maybe Penny was partially right: he was Prince Charming, except for the off days when he part-timed as Knight In Shining Armor.
"How about you fuck off from my wife," Bradley gritted through his teeth. His face was red and you were left doubtless that it was the only colour he was currently seeing. There was no doubt that if nature gifted him with just a little less self-control, Zeus would be getting his own jaw dislocated.
"Chill, man," Zeus chuckled awkwardly and tried to force his hand out of Rooster's iron grip. His effort was in vain, a wince of pain slowly making its way unto his face. However, even bad circulation to his hand couldn't keep his audacity out. "Not my fault you let your wife leave the house dressed like that, amigo. And not my fault the girl doesn't wear a ring."
"Well, it's your fault you're a dickhead."
Still clutching Zeus' wrist, Rooster forcefully pulled him away from you. Penny began ringing the bell behind the counter, visibly pleasant at the turn of events. The other clients cleared the way from the bar to the door, already starting to chant 'overboard'.
"Welcome to TOP GUN, pal," Maverick said while he and Rooster grabbed the man under his arms. Together, they began dragging him out of the bar as the regulars cheered them on. "Rule number one: Mrs. Bradshaw is to be respected at all times."
Soon after that life lesson, Zeus was literally thrown out of the Hard Deck and the front door closed in his face. Some of the guests laughed at the interesting turn of events but the general majority went back to their drinks, used to the particular culture of the beach bar.
All gloating and pleased with himself, Bradley made his way back to you, his hands sneaking around your waist without much thought.
"My wife?" you repeated with amusement. A bright smile quickly appeared on his face - he was growing more fond of that thought with each passing second, each mention of the, hopefully inevitable, possibility. "Don't remember marrying you just yet."
The anger he had been drowning in moments ago, was now nowhere to be seen and Bradley's face returned to its soft expression - a default for whenever you were around.
"Really?" he asked with theatrical confusion. His eyebrows even furrowed for a moment. "Must've been my dream then."
"You dream about me often?" you asked as a soft grin crept unto your face. Bradley was the type of man who would flirt with his girl even after having spent his entire life with her - always showing appreciation of the beyond favourable turn of events. Your fingers were mindlessly trailing the hem of his shirt.
"Anytime I can." Considering the gentle look in his eyes, it might just be true.
The laughter his words elicited from you was cut short as Bradley cradled your face and kissed you slowly. Some of the nearby guests started yelling 'bitter!', clearly believing Rooster and Maverick's slight embellishment of your relationship status.
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ivrmmx · 2 months
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Convenience store: y.jw
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Pairing: troublemaker!Jungwon X student!reader
Summary: It was midnight and you were getting hungry. You decide to go buy a tiny snack at the convenience store near you apartment. While being there, you feel eyes starring at you.
Genre: Fluff,
Warnings: cussing, kissing, reader is hungry, walking down the streets at night
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You move around your bed with an empty and loud stomach. You whine and sit up, turning on your night lamp. You check the time; 12:43a.m. You wanna go back to bed but your stomach is begging to be filled.
You use all the strength in your body just to get up. You just finished your homework, it was hard concentrating with a grumbling stomach .
After getting up from your bed, you put on some slippers heading outside your apartment with a hoodie on and your purse.
You walk down the streets, the night is beautiful, it’s quiet, peaceful, and green. You love nights like this, they are just so relaxing and the smell of rain mixed with dirty streets brought you back comforting nostalgia from when you were a tiny child.
Your eyes and tired and watery from sleep loss, but who cares when you are starving to death? Your headphones playing your favorite late night walk playlist.
You open the door to the convenience store as it dings to being open. You greet the store owner with a hello and a bow. You move around the store scanning all the snacks.
One of your hands inside the pocket in your hoodie and the other pointing at the labels of different snacks trying to find out which one would satisfy your hunger better.
As you scan carefully what to get, you have a strange feeling of being watched, intensely. You turn your head in the direction where your brain tells you someone is looking. It’s a boy, not just any boy, Yang Jungwon, the troublemaker in your school.
Why troublemaker? He does everything but do what you should be doing in school. Flirting with girls, skipping class, disrupting the class, if he even shows up which is rare. You can see him smirk slightly when you spot him as he lowers his head acting like he is also looking for snacks.
You ignore him, why should you care he is here? Yea it’s awkward, but you don’t want anything with him right now. You keep looking through and decide to grab some Buldak ramen and head over to the drink section. You see a drink you’ve been craving but you can’t reach it with your 5’6 short ass.
As you try grabbing and jumping to get the drink, you feel someone else grab it instead. You were about to argue as it was the last one, but when you turn around you see him, Yang Jungwon, starring into your eyes as he hands you the drink. He towers over you, your face heating up at how close he was.
“Here,” he says. “Thanks..” you reply, taking the drink from his hand and looking away. He smiles and pins you up gently against the fridge door, your eyes widen as you scan his face. “I’ve seen you before during school, I can’t lie, you’re pretty cute” he smirks leaning closer. You roll your eyes, “I’m not falling for one of your tricks jungwon.” He chuckles, “But you already are sweetheart,” you raise an eyebrow at the pet name. “Sweetheart? Don’t call me that.” You snap back, “you sure? Your body doesn’t say the same” he pouts teasingly and places a strand of hair behind your ear.
“I know who you really are Jungwon. I’m not falling for this.” You cross your arms. “You say you aren’t falling, so why aren’t you resisting me, hmm?” He scoff leaning closer. “What are you doing?” You ask him confused and a bit flustered by his actions.
“Don’t lie to me and say you don’t want this.” He leans even closer, he stares at your lips, his hand under your chin lifting it up. You hesitate but nod, he connects your and his lips together with a soft kiss. He holds onto your waist. “Fuck” Jungwon breaths out from the kiss. “You don’t know how much I needed this from you” he whispers pulling away from you.
Your heart was beating fast, the tension was increasing as it felt way hotter than when you walked in. “You needed this?” You ask while blushing. “Yes, since the first day I saw you walk down the hallway during school, my heart skipped a beat seeing you. You’re just so beautiful, you don’t even have to try.”
You felt touched, no one has ever told you something like this before
“Thank you.. i also think you’re very handsome.”
He smiled kissing your forehead, “I know this is awkward but, will you be mine?” He caresses your cheek while looking into your eyes passionately. “Yes.” You respond with no hesitation.
You both share a kiss again. He pulls away and he smiles, you smile back at him. Suddenly, he takes your phone and starts running away. Your smile drops and you start chasing after him.
Your laughs can be heard around the dark streets, when suddenly “I got you!” Is echoed from far down the streets.
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AN: I forgot I had this in my drafts..
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murdrdocs · 6 months
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INTERVIEW 010
with. rafe cameron and jj maybank
includes. ghostface!rafe and jj, DUBCON, fem!reader, knife play, breaking and entering, unprotected p n v sex, mean!rafe and jj (obvi), reader isn't aware of their identities
→ kinktober masterlist
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The knife that reflects the low light, pointed directly at you, should cause alarm. It should at least be the cause of the spike in your heart rate, instead of the two masked men who wield it. It should make your mouth dry, instead of increasing saliva production. 
You should be worried about your current position. About your current predicament. 
Kneeled on the carpeted floor of your childhood home, hands politely, and voluntarily, placed in your lap, your entire body lax and complacent even with two imposing figures looming over you, masked and dressed in all black combat gear. 
They stare at you, silent, calculating, eyes invisible beneath the ghost face and the black cloth that covers the oblong eye slits. The last time they spoke to you, – the first barking a hard command of “get on your knees” and the second cooing a condescending praise of “that’s it” when you did as told – you heard their voices through a modulator, designed to disguise possibly the most telling aspect of them. 
The distortion of it shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did. But nothing about this situation should have been as arousing as it is. 
Two masked men, completely unidentifiable, breaking into your home and holding a knife pointed at you with intent to use, shouldn’t be attractive. But between your legs is soaked, gray panties housing a dark gray patch right in the center of them. 
You didn’t have the thought to slip a pair of pants on after your shower earlier, leaving you in a tiny tee and your underwear, no bra to cover your hardening nipples from the perpetrators that stand before you. 
They notice it, you can tell they do, it’s impossible not to notice. Yet they don’t say anything. 
Instead, the one on the left, the taller of the two, leans down and raises a gloved hand. You flinch, but there’s no reason to, his hand raising to your chest instead of your face. His thumb and pointer finger single themselves out, closing around your pert nipple. He squeezes, as if he’s testing you, and you hiss. When his thumb grazes over the area instead of pinching it, you don’t know if it’s a gift, if you’d passed his test or not. 
You’re still unaware of your status when the other circles behind you, hand coming to your front view to cup your chin. You watch the glove come into view, eyes instead going up when he pushes your head back, making it so you look straight at him. The blank stare of the mask menacing, yet you’re not afraid. 
Instead, you shuffle on your knees, rubbing your thighs together in a pathetic attempt to receive some sort of friction. It doesn’t work, but you succeed in getting their attention, two pairs of snickers sounding from either side of you. 
“Give her what she wants,” the one behind you suggests to the other, the words lacking the harshness that an order should. Instead, it’s a simple suggestion, one you hope the other decides to take.
When he does, getting what you want has never felt so good. 
Not even the pain in your knees could dull this feeling, skin scraping along the rough texture of the overpriced rug your parents love so much as you attempt to hold yourself up. One of your hands digs into the black fabric of the denim jeans that one of your assailants wears, the other pressed flat into the harsh fabric beneath you. 
Your hand placements does nothing to steady you, though, not when the masked figure behind you is fucking you like this. Raw, something that only concerned you for an astonishingly brief second before you let your thoughts go in favor of reveling in the pleasure. Pleasure which multiplied once the figure in front of you had his cock down your throat. 
The living room is a mixture of sounds; the deep groans from the one behind you mixed with his insistent praises that degrade you all at the same time, the almost-whimpers from the one in front of you as he holds a hand at the back of your neck to force you to take more and more, and your pathetic garbling as you don’t bother attempting to muffle your own sounds while you take it all in. 
You’ve never been more full, nor have you ever been more fucking aroused. You can hear your own arousal over your slurping, pornographic squelches of bare skin abusing your gummy walls. You can feel it dripping around you, the skin of your inner thighs wet and warm. 
In a risky move, you shakily raise one of your hands to bring it between your legs, running your fingers over your clit with a touch that has your eyes rolling back. 
“Look at her. She’s really getting off to this, huh?” The voice behind you is distant as you start to rub a little faster, tight circles clearly intended to get yourself off. 
“Gonna make yourself cum, sweetheart? Hm? Getting off to two men breaking into your apartment and having their way with you.” He’s mean with it, and you’re sure the words are spoken to put you down, maybe fill you with shame and make you falter a bit. 
Instead, they do the opposite, sending you over the edge in an orgasm that has your legs shaking, body practically collapsing to the floor. 
They follow you to the ground, because although you may be done, it doesn’t mean they are. 
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sunflower-lilac42 · 4 months
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✧ 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐇𝐢𝐦 || flowers au ♔
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summary: when her brothers visit, they send her in a spiral ending in a panic attack and only one person could help her.
warnings: depression, offing of themselves, stress, feelings of not being good enough, toxic thoughts, the lot
notes: another sad one, this happens before rescue. slightly different but more perspective on how adam and luca feel about it. feel free to ask anything for the au because i love hearing from you guys and i hope to answer some questions if you have any. add yourself to the taglist ➵ taglist!
au masterlist | nhl masterlist | main masterlist
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They didn’t know what to do, they were pacing around her dorm room like madmen. Over the break, Luca and Adam decided to visit Violet since the three of them had missed each other. They had just been merely talking about school and how Luca was doing, playing NHL in the girl’s dorm room when Violet had dropped the controller. Her heart skipped a beat in nervousness and she looked at her desk that held the homework she needed to do. 
It was a hard time for Violet because even though she had the whole week off for break, she needed to stay back and work on her finals. She was majoring in four separate things, which she brought on herself but that wasn’t the point. Being close to finals she had so much work to do, in some classes, she had to write a paper, in others a final project, and in some a final exam and they still hadn’t finished learning all the material.
As much as she loved to be clean and organized, now wasn’t the time. If you walked into the freshman dorm room at this moment, you would not think it was Violet who lived there. Half of the projects she had to complete were on the desk, directions in a messy pile. Her notes for her exams and the study guide were all laid out in an unorganized manner, with her notes for her papers mixed in with them. 
Luca, being the big brother he was, kneeled in front of the girl, placing his hands on her knees, “Hey, V. I need you to breathe for me, alright?”
Telling her to breathe was not the most helpful. And not that it was their fault, but they weren’t the best at comforting her. Being the primary root of her anxiety and depression (unknowingly and unconsciously their fault and she knew that), it was hard for her to talk about these problems with her. She knew the two were inquisitive and they would ask what was wrong or if there was anything they could do to fix it, that’s all they wanted to do. They wanted to fix things without any prior knowledge of the things going on, they always thought they could when they couldn’t. 
That was the difference between them and Connor. Being able to open up to Connor was much easier when she didn’t have to worry about him knowing them. Of course, Connor knew Adam, he had met him a few times and got to know him during the draft but he didn’t know him know him. So any previous knowledge of the two disappeared when Violet started to open up. This meant that Connor knew what to do in this situation, and even if he didn’t he kept the conversation tame for both of them. 
When she shook her head at Luca’s words, he almost started crying too. He had never seen his baby sister look this broken before. He was trying to hold it together for both of them. He turned his head to see why the room was silent besides Violet’s hyperventilating breaths and choking sobs, Adam had almost started to hyperventilate himself, sitting on her bed and hand to his chest. 
“Adam, hey hey. It’s okay, bud. She's going to be fine, alright.” Luca knew how to handle Adam when he broke down, the two were inseparable. 
He glanced between his sister and his brother, his little siblings. How was he supposed to pick? Violet’s was more severe but he had no idea how to get her to calm down, while Adam could calm down in five minutes and then go back to her, so that’s what he did. He got up and walked over to his brother, bringing him into a hug, calming him. 
Adam’s breaths were shallow but evened out within seconds, meanwhile Violet’s had only gotten worse. Her mind was in overdrive, many thoughts popping into her head every second that only got worse when Luca appeared but worsened again when he left.
‘He doesn’t care.’ ‘He can’t handle me.’ ‘I’m only being a burden.’ ‘I’m annoying.’ ‘He’s leaving me, they’re leaving me.’ ‘They think I’m annoying.’
Luckily, at that moment, Ollie barged into the room getting ready to announce something when she saw the scene. Having this become almost second nature to her, she went through her tactics; holding Violet’s hand, the 5 senses method that only worked once in every 5 tries, and even tried talking about hockey to get her mind distracted from whatever she was currently thinking about, but her voice wasn’t the same as Connor’s and that’s what she needed. 
Ollie scrambled to take her phone out of her back pocket and Adam and Luca panicked once more, “Why wasn’t that helping?”
“Not the time.”
“What are you doing?”
“Are you done? Obviously, nothing you tried, if you even did try, fucking helped. Maybe if you paid more attention and were mentally aware of what’s happening to her you’d know how to handle this situation.”
It was a low blow, Ollie knew that Violet had a hard time talking to the boys, but all in all, it was partly true. If Violet felt more comfortable around them and their big personalities she could talk to them about it. Adam and Luca weren’t the type of people to deal with this stuff. Yes, it was her fault at some points and she acknowledged that and she acknowledged the fact that sometimes it wasn’t something either of them could control.
She tried to not make it worse for the girl but after everything she’d heard about her and her mental health coinciding with her brothers, the damage the two had unintentionally done, she couldn’t hold back. She heard her roommate's breathing pick up and finished finding the number to call, “Hello?”
“Hi, no time to talk. V’s having a panic attack.”
She could hear the boy on the other side swear profanities, “Put her on.”
Ollie handed her best friend the phone and Violet held it with two hands against her ear, “I can’t breathe.” 
She sobbed trying to contain everything that she was doing, “I know, honey, I know. I’m here, okay? Do you think you can try to take a deep breath?” As much as she tried, so couldn’t.
She merely shook her head, no answer was able to form, “Hey. Violet?”
His voice was smooth, calm, and steady and didn’t hold a single ounce of worry or unsureness in it, but if anyone were to see him right now, his eyes would be wide and forming tears, his forehead would be wrinkled and his eyebrows were pinched together. His body was tense, his fist clenching and unclenching. He bit his lip in silence and bounced his leg up and down, “V, what’s happening? Talk to me. Come on, pretty girl.”
“N-no. I can’t.”
Luca and Adam looked dumbfounded, in the matter of just knowing who was on the other line she was able to speak and form sane thoughts. They mentally kicked themselves in the ass for not being able to do that. They should know how to care for their sister. For all they knew there was some person on the other line that had barely known her for six months that was able to do things that they should’ve been able to do for the past 6 years. They exchanged glances in worry, Adam wiping off the tears from his face. 
“It’s okay,” his voice went silent, thinking through the list of tactics he had created for when she got like this. 
He had created it when she told him about her intense panic attacks, he needed to be prepared for when it happened. Talking about her brothers was out of the question as they were visiting and in the same room as her, telling her about practice also wasn’t an option because he hadn’t had practice that day. 
He tapped his foot hoping she couldn’t hear it but that fell short, “Are you okay?”
This wasn’t what she was supposed to be worrying about, but at least her mind was on something else, right?
No, her mind now plagued her with thoughts of how she was stressing out Connor, how she was just a burden to him as well, that he didn’t really want to be doing this right now it was just another chore for him, he had too much on his plate and shouldn’t have to deal with her. 
“Perfectly fine, no need to worry, sweet girl. I just have a song stuck in my head.”
“What song?”
“Steal my girl.”
“I like that song.”
“Oh you do?”
“Mhm. Um, I think it’s getting worse…”
“What do you mean it’s getting worse?” Luca’s voice was stern, wanting nothing more in the world for this to stop and for her to be okay.
The harshness of his voice made her jump and tears formed in her eyes again, “Don’t yell at her.”
“Who’s yelling, V?”
“Not Ollie.” Violet didn’t want to explicitly throw her brothers under the bus so that was the safest option was to say who it wasn’t.
“You want to tell me about some flowers?”
“What kind?’
“Sunflowers.”
“I love sunflowers.”
“Oh, really, why?” Connor knew the answer, Luke was one of her best friends so that was one of the first flowers she had told him about when it came up in conversation.
“They remind me of Luke.”
Her sentences were short which meant she was still trapped in her little mind bubble, “And why’s that sweetheart?”
“Because when I met him he made me laugh not even two minutes later. He makes me laugh a lot, every time I see him. When he walks into a room, everyone gets really excited and visibly gets happier. I like to call him a little ray of sunshine.”
Connor chuckled, “You excited to see him soon?”
“Yeah. I miss him.”
“You know what, I think I saw some sunflowers yesterday.”
“How and where? It’s the middle of November, C.” 
The name immediately alarmed him, a codename that they had set back when Violet had visited him in Chicago. She never called him that, she hated the name and so did he. For the two of them, it meant she felt like she couldn’t speak freely to him, like someone in the room didn’t know about them or they made her feel unsafe. Even if she was having a hard time but couldn’t say, “Your brothers still there?”
“Mhm.”
“You wanna give the phone to Ollie real quick? I promise you Violet I won’t be gone for more than a few seconds. You think you can do it?”
The way Connor said her name made her body un-tense, it was his way of reassuring her that whatever he said was true, that he was going to be back in a few seconds. She handed the girl her phone, causing confusion to rise on her face, “Hi?”
“Get Adam and Luca out of there now.”
She didn’t need another word, standing and walking up to them “I need you to leave.”
“What no! We need to make sure she’s okay.”
“You two being here, isn’t helping. Leave. I’m not asking again.”
The boys continued their protests which left Ollie with one final option. She grabbed both of their sleeves, harshly dragging the two hockey players out of her dorm room and shutting the door when they were in the hallway. 
“All better now?”
“Yeah, Connie.”
“Still feeling a little panicky?”
“A little.” Knowing that she could talk to Connor freely now without her brothers figuring out who he was or why she was acting like this made her breathe a little more. 
“That’s good. You want to talk more or you want me to?”
That was another and the main difference between her brothers and Connor. Connor offered the breath, he offered to talk about things, he offered for her to talk or for him to talk. He never made her do anything. Most people would demand things out of her when she was this riled up, for her to breathe or to calm down, they would shout at her to get through to her when all she needed was a soothing voice, a way to distract her thoughts from what initially caused this. 
“You, please.”
“Okay, well I’m excited to see you in a couple of days. We can walk around the city if you want, go Christmsa shopping. Ride around on some trains, because I know how much you like them. We can look to see what Christmas decorations they have up already. We can go see the Christkindl Market in Wrigleyville. I know you’ll probably want to go to Billy Goats, and maybe I have a present for you to open up….”
That seemed to calm her down a lot, the idea of getting to see Connor soon and do all of these things with him felt like a breath of fresh air. She hadn’t seen him in a couple weeks and even then it was only for two days and he had games both of those days. Before then they hadn’t seen each other in four months.
“A present, you say?”
Her usual sarcastic nature and tone were back, making the boy smile, “Oh yeah, I wrapped it all by myself.”
“That’s a scary thought.”
Connor gasped, “Offensive, Miss. Violet.”
“It’s the truth.”
Connor laughed causing her to as well, Connor calming her down was a success that would later have to be described to her brothers but that was a thought for another time.
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𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
if your name is crossed out it means i couldn't tag you
@ivy-34 | @itsnotgray | @daisysnhl | @love4ldr | @dancerbailey3 | @love4lando | @thescooby-gang | @biscuit-muffin05
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norrisleclercf1 · 8 months
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Hey, could you maybe write something and the reader being a driver on the grid and maybe either drying the drivers parade or interviews where she is surrounded by the boys ( Lando, charles, George, idm who else ) and maybe she starts to feel unwell and faints so the boys look after her. Hope this is okay x
It's not that it was a particularly hot day, but the constant changing weather of the track was giving you a hard time. The constant pressure changes of cold then hot, then humid to raining was getting to you. Something your team was well aware of when you got every chance to sit down with your head between your legs.
"Drink some water, come on." Max urges crouching in front of your chair handing you the water bottle. You say nothing, fingers tingly as you grab the water, taking slow sips. Max's fingers go to the back of your neck rubbing a pressure point. "Feels good." You mumble the fog in your brain lifting but not enough.
"Guys, the driver's parade is about to start." Christian stops, seeing the state your in. "Hey, you don't have to go." Pushing you back down, you shake it off. "No, no. If I can't attend the driver's parade, then I can't race. I'm fine." Both Max and Christian knew you weren't telling the truth.
"Watch her closely, I'd rather she not races then kill herself." Max nods, sent off with a pat on the back as you pull yourself together. Walking to towards the large bed truck you climb out, shaking out your fingers. The tingling feeling was slowly starting to grow, but you knew it was just a pinched nerve. "You alright?" Max whispers, hand on your back to stop your slight tittering.
"Of course, stop being a mother hen." Moving you head down the truck getting to where Lando, Oscar, Charles, Carlos, and Pierre were. Max was close behind you slotting in next to Lando. You lean against the railing, doing that you feel the world go forward yet you blink it away everything going back to normal.
"Y/n? Are you okay?" Oscar's concerned voice has you looking up, all the drivers looking at you worried. "Yes," You groan exhausted of people asking if you're okay. "I'm just tired that's it, I can't be tired?" You snap, patience wear thin. "Hey, he's just worried. You don't need to snap at him." Lando glares, nodding at Oscar that it's okay.
"Water." Max nods at the bottle in your hand, shoving it your mouth you take slow sips from the straw but it doesn't help the fuzzy feeling filling your brain or the way you start to get tunnel vision. The truck starts to move, having your stomach lurch you grip the railing tight.
It's halfway through, Charles talking to you, but his voice turned into static about 5 minutes ago. "Fuck, she's going down." Someone curses as your world goes dark, multiple arms and accents fade out.
------------------------
It's embarrassing, passing out during the drivers parade and you were deemed unfit to drive. Having to watch the most chaotic race every instead of being in the middle of it. Max had won, tying with Seb of course no one was happy about it.
Apparently, his monotone celebration was ill-fit for what he's doing. But that's Max, you still remember him going crazy sometimes on the radio. "You should be celebrating." You grumble, looking at the dejected man in red.
"I was doomed the moment I kept going off at turn 1 during practice." Is all Charles says typing away on his phone. "So? You're talented." You argue, a smile pulling at Charles's lips. "The car is shit." You smile biting into a cracker, hating the bland taste in your mouth.
"How's sleeping beauty?" Thick puffy curls pop into the door, a smiling face of Lando before he gets tripped in Max shoving his way in. "Is she drinking enough water? Have you been lightheaded again? What about food?" Max lists off everything as Charles roll his eyes.
"You smell." You gag, the sweat, rain, and champagne was not a good mix. "Oh, I'm sorry." Max steps back, Lando snickers as Oscar, Carlos, and Pierre soon join. The other drivers had to go to interviews, but Oscar said the rest would be visiting you after.
"You don't have to stay with me." You told them later, but they said they weren't leaving until the medic said you were all good. Guess you'll have to deal with the sweaty men in your room.
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jina1028 · 19 days
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Smoothie
Haechan x fem!reader
Categories: smut, recreational use of alcohol, sex in public, car sex, fwb, blowjob, tell me if I missed something
A.N. I feel like this is kinda short compared to my other works but I still hope you have fun reading <3
~♡~
You were at a club with your friends and currently seated around a table sipping your drinks and talking nonsense. As most of the times you and your friends got a bit drunk, the subject of your conversation was drifting towards nsfw territory. Your innocent question about favorite cocktails turned into a discussion about blowjobs.
"Tonight I chose piña colada because you know what they say about pineapple" Haechan winked at you, making you roll your eyes, but bringing a not well concealed smile on your face nonetheless.
A chorus of groans, giggles and bickering was interrupted by Jisung, a confused expression on his face "What do they say about pineapple?", the youngest soon regretting asking the question when Chenle answered in a loud voice "You're so clueless, everyone knows it makes your cum taste better!", a pair of girls passing by turned their heads towards the two boys as they heard the exchange, Jisung blushing hard and diverting his eyes from them as he tried to silence his friend, Chenle bursting out laughing at the scene.
"You know" Haechan picked up the conversation again "mine tastes like smoothie" and he sipped his drink while staring at you.
"No one believes you" Renjun stated, Jeno nodding beside him.
"How do you even know, did you taste it yourself?" Mark argued, Jaemin almost snorting his drink out from his nose, you almost choking on your own drink.
Haechan acted offended, frowning and getting louder as he spoke "Anyone wanna try it? I dare you!"
He earned a mix of disgusted faces and 'eww's from the table until Jaemin commented "Y/N doesn't seem too much against it" a playful look in his eyes.
Everyone turned to you, who stayed silent sipping from your straw. You didn't know if it was the alcohol, Haechan's amused gaze on you or the crush you had on him from two years ago, or maybe everything together, but eventually you put your drink down on the table, stared back at Heachan, shrugged and replied "Maybe I wanna try so I can judge by myself."
Howls and whistles erupted from your friends, Haechan though was strangely quiet, just a sly smirk on his face while the two of you maintained eye contact for a few seconds before he turned his attention to the rest of your friends "Enough, clearly Y/N drank a bit too much, now you guys should go and have fun dancing and picking up some girls while I take her home so she can rest and sober up-"
"I'm not that drunk" you protested, interrupting him.
"Y/N, come on, I'm trying to come up with an excuse here" he sighed dramatically, getting up from his chair, coming to you and grabbing your hand, starting to drag you out from the club while waving goodbye to your friends "Jeno, Jaemin, you should take a taxi later to get back home, I'm gonna be busy."
Everyone was flabbergasted at the sudden turn of events, just like you as well, starting to laugh as soon as you realized what was happening and letting Haechan escort you to his car.
"Haechan, wait, I thought you were joking... Are we really leaving?" you questioned, still hoping this wouldn't turn out to be one of his silly jokes.
He turned around to you while opening the driver's door "Y/N I'm so serious right now, unless you wanna go back inside and tell them it was a joke."
You looked him in the eyes and opened the front passenger's door "Get inside the car."
And he obeyed, inserting the key to start the engine as soon as you closed the doors. You stopped him though, worried about the risks of driving after drinking and making him pout "You have a point but I really wanted to go to your place or somewhere private"
You looked around the dark parking lot "We're in a corner, it's dark, there's no one around, everyone is inside having fun..."
Haechan struggled to stay focused as you stroked his thigh, inching up more and more until you managed to unzip his jeans and tuck your hand inside to slowly and steadily stroke at his half hard member through his boxers, bringing more blood to it as it swelled up under the pressure of your tantalizing hand.
"There's other cars around here, what if someone comes too close..." he started to argue, trying to convince himself more than you, but eventually sighing deeply at your ministrations, his eyelids fluttering closed.
"It will just look like you're sleeping, no one will notice" you reassured him, removing your hand from his boxers just to push them down enough to free his now erect member, resuming your strokes and inching closer with your face.
His lips slightly parted as he let out a soft moan, hand finding your hair as you finally reached out your tongue to tease the underside of his tip. He tried to push a little to stop your teasing, impatience getting the best of him but you warned him grazing the tip with your teeth, earning a hiss from him, his pleading eyes now set on yours and swifting to your mouth, so close to his member but still not giving him what he really wanted.
Haechan felt so desperate, it just slipped out of his mouth before he could realize "Please... Take it, please..."
Your pussy pulsed and you felt your folds getting wetter with your arousal "I'll make you feel good" you purred and with your tongue flat on the underside of his cock you finally closed your lips around the tip and hollowed your cheeks, giving it a nice suck, Haechan instinctively fisting your hair to ground himself at the sensation.
You started to bob your head on his cock, occasionally hollowing your cheeks, sucking and swirling your tongue on the tip, dipping it in the slit collecting his precum. You had to admit it tasted good and doubled your efforts to make him cum faster so you could taste his seed.
Hachan felt dizzy, he couldn't decide if he wanted to savor the moment with his eyes closed or if he wanted to stay focused watching the way your mouth and hand worked on him.
He tasted so good and was responding so well, moaning and hissing every time you sucked on the tip and twisted your hand on his slick base, you couldn't help but get cock drunk, moaning around his cock and feeling your wetness seep through your panties.
Haechan realized he was getting too loud so he clamped his free hand on his mouth to try and keep it quiet, his other hand still tangled in your hair, pulling a little as he started get closer to the edge, calling your name in quiet whispers to try and warn you.
You heard him but didn't care, and instead brought your free hand to fondle his balls encouraging him to let it go, sucking greedily on his head and pumping the lenghth with your other hand.
That's when you felt the grip on your hair tightening, his breath hitching and finally letting go with a low moan, his cock twitching in your mouth as it spilled his thick seed on your tongue, a curse leaving his lips when he realized what he just did.
You kept softly sucking on his cock until he had nothing left to give you and you let it out of your mouth, a string of saliva breaking in the process.
Haechan watched you closely as you finally swallowed his cum with a gulp and smiled at him, teasing him repeating his own statement from earlier "It really tastes like smoothie."
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jamiewintons · 8 months
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Good Enough To Eat (OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji/F!Reader)
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Summary: You and your boyfriend Sanji end up spending some time alone in the kitchen of Baratie.
Tags/Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY), public/semi public sex, praise kink, ‘good girl’ kink, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering.
A/N: Hey guys! My first non-Mat fic in literal years! This wasn’t meant to end up so long (not that 1400 words is that long) but I got a bit carried away. It’s really just all vibes. Please know that I’ve never seen the One Piece anime or read the manga, so this is based purely on the live action series. Hope you enjoy!! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated :)
Word Count: 1402
Sanji Tag List: No one yet! (Fill out this form to join!)
~~~
"You look good enough to eat, darling," Sanji told you as he ran his hands up and down your legs, giving you that easy, confident smile that always made your heart melt. The feeling of his strong, talented hands against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs made you shudder, and Sanji’s smile only grew as he sensed your arousal.
You were seated on the counter in the kitchen of Baratie, with Sanji kneeling on the floor between your legs. You knew that the two of you shouldn’t have been doing this here — you couldn’t count the amount of times that you got told off by Zeff for making out in the pantry, and you weren’t exactly looking for a repeat of that — but once Sanji kissed you and ever so gently pushed you against the counter, your bodies pressed together and his hands holding your hips, you knew that there was no way you were going to say no.
And now here you were, a complete flustered mess, although Sanji had barely even touched you yet. He was just like that; he could drive you insane with desire with just a simple touch, or even a look, and the worst part was, he knew what he did to you. Sanji laughed quietly as he felt your body quiver while his lips brushed against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. "Oh, darling, you’re so needy," he teased, closing his eyes as he savoured the feeling of your soft skin against his lips. At a snail’s pace he moved further up your leg, until he was mere inches away from the place you needed him most. "Just relax and let me take care of you."
"Please," you sighed, and Sanji laughed once again, though this time it sounded more like a mere exhalation. "Sanji… please."
"Patience," he told you, before moving to your other thigh and repeating the same routine of peppering kisses all over it until you were whimpering beneath his ministrations. "Let me worship your beautiful body the way you deserve."
You closed your eyes, your entire body tingling as your arousal grew to levels you never knew you were even capable of feeling. Though you couldn’t see them, you just knew that beneath your dress your panties were already completely soaked through. You wanted Sanji to just get to the point and give you what you needed already, but you knew that he was right, and that the anticipation, the build-up would ensure the end result was even more wonderful. Just like with food, Sanji would tell you.
When you felt Sanji’s hands slip beneath the hem of your dress, that was when your eyes shot back open. He slowly pushed it up, revealing your cotton panties. "You’re absolutely soaked for me, darling." Even if you weren’t looking at him, you’d be able to tell that he was smirking by the tone in his voice - a mix of smugness and reverence. He brought his thumb to the front of your panties, gently teasing the wet patch on the fabric and making you whimper. "So sensitive, sweetheart. You must be really worked up."
"Well, you have been at this for at least an hour," you complained, trying to sound firm but your voice came out shaky and desperate. Sanji pressed a little harder, and you let out another soft noise.
"It’s not been quite that long, but I’ll forgive you. I’m sure you’re having a hard time concentrating," Sanji said with a self-satisfied grin, before hooking his fingers into the waist of your panties and slowly pulling them down your legs. Without the pesky fabric in the way, your arousal was even more obvious, and Sanji’s eyes lit up as he saw the physical proof of how much he affected you. "Remember when I said you looked good enough to eat?"
With that, Sanji pulled you a little closer to the edge of the counter you were perched on. He leaned in and ran his tongue between your swollen lower lips, a slow lick from your entrance up to your aching clit that made your entire body shudder. The sound that came out of your mouth was somewhere between a moan and a sigh of relief, and it made Sanji let out yet another breathless laugh.
He focused on your clit, alternating between quick licks with the tip of his tongue and slow, languid strokes using the entire organ. Your fingers came to rest on top of Sanji’s head as he pleasured you, threading through the soft blond strands and tugging lightly. This only encouraged him to double down his efforts, following your moans and whimpers to find the best way to please you.
"You taste incredible, darling. Better than anything I’ve ever tasted," Sanji whispered, his words sounding like warm honey, as he pulled his mouth away from your pussy. But he wasn’t idle for long, because only a few seconds later he grabbed your legs and put them over his shoulders before diving back in to eat you out with even more enthusiasm.
"O-oh fuck, Sanji… feels so good," you gasped out, your thighs shaking as Sanji vigorously devoured you like he was a starved man and you were the first food he’d encountered in weeks. You’d never felt as good in your life as you did with Sanji, he was as much of a talented lover as he was a chef, and you thanked your lucky stars every day that you got to be with him.
"That’s it, good girl," Sanji praised gently, those simple words making your pleasure intensify and your hips buck against his face. You then felt his fingers teasing at your entrance, and let out a gasp as he pushed two inside your fluttering walls. "Just sit back and let me take care of you."
Your breathing was getting heavier, you quiet moans becoming louder and more desperate as Sanji worked magic on you with his tongue and fingers. He crooked his digits to stimulate your g-spot, and you knew that it wouldn’t be long until you fell apart for him. "S-Sanji, I’m… I’m close…"
Sanji would have known that you were on the brink, even if you hadn’t said anything, but fuck, did he love to hear you say it. To hear your voice so desperate for him, all because of him. Honestly, it turned him on more than anything possible could. His cock throbbed within his trousers with the thought of being inside of you again, but right now was about you, not about him, and he wanted to give you everything that you needed.
When he felt your pussy beginning to tighten around his fingers, he looked up at you, seeing your beautiful face contorted in pleasure. But more than anything, he wanted to see your eyes, to see how they widened as he brought you to complete ecstasy. "Look at me, darling. I want you to look at me when I make you cum," he told you in a tone that was both gentle and firm, one that you couldn’t help but listen to.
When you looked down at Sanji’s face, the sight of his blue-green eyes darkened with lust — along with how he massaged your sweet spot with his fingers and sucked on your swollen clit — was enough to push you over the edge into an earth shattering orgasm. You cried out his name, your hips bucking and your velvety walls contracting around his fingers. Sanji guided you through your high, not stopping until you went completely limp, and he made sure he was standing to catch you when you did.
"You did so well for me, darling," he praised, one of his hands threading though your hair as he pressed gentle kisses to your flushed face. Once he was sure you could keep yourself upright, he took the fingers of his other hand — the one that he had been using to pleasure you — into his mouth, licking off your essence and moaning as if he had just eaten a delicious meal. "Let’s go back to my room, sweetheart. I’m not quite finished enjoying you tonight."
You allowed Sanji to lead you out of the kitchen and towards his bedroom, his hand firmly held in yours, feeling your heart fluttering with excitement. You already knew that you were going to struggle to walk tomorrow, and you couldn’t wait.
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carigm · 2 months
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SPOILERS FOR ST5 FILMING THIS WEEK+ A THEORY
Okay, I’m going to try and break down all the filming leaks we got this week and put them together into a theory.
In case you don’t know yet, ST’s production has moved back to Stone Mountain, GA this week. This is a woodsy area that’s been used before in the show to film all the UD forest scenes as well as just the regular forest scenes in the show.
On Monday of this week, someone who lives close to the area came upon a set. And it was the Castle Byers pictures we got. I’ll add them here too.
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Some observations. To me this version of castle Byers doesn’t look like the original one we first saw. That one was much fuller and looked more stable. It also doesn’t look like the version Will left behind after destroying it in S3. We know the UD is stuck on the time Will was there, so imo the version of castle Byers we are seeing here is the one that was damaged by the demogorgon when it grabbed Will, back in S1.
Based on this pic and a little video of the set, we all speculated they could be filming something related to Will, perhaps even a flashback. Here’s where it gets interesting.
I was looking at the castingtaylormade insta page (they post all the casting for extras and photo doubles needed for the show) and I came across this.
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Production was looking for a minor photo double and “adult” one to work on the 20th (aka Tuesday of this week) as well as some other dates in February and March.
Now, we know they were filming at the castle Byers set the same day that this minor photo double was needed. I don’t think I need to spell it out here. They were looking for a child, so younger Will scenes are basically a guarantee to have been filmed this week. As for the adult photo double filming the same date, well there’s quite a few options. If it’s a little Will flashback/vision we’re gonna see, perhaps the adult photo double is gonna be older Will himself. Maybe we’ll get current Will having visions of his younger self and his time in the UD, and we’ll see both versions of him. Let’s not forget he was able to shift to the UD in S2 without physically being there.
Another option for the adult photo double could be Vecna. Will and Vecna are bound to share scenes this season, so perhaps we’ll see whether Vecna was involved from the get go in Will’s disappearance.
Now it gets even more interesting, because today we got new pics of the “UD” set from this week. There’s a lot of fog, and a very poignant blue and red lighting mix.
We know the UD usually has a blue tint, but there’s been instances where it has looked red, especially in S4. However, the most red we’ve ever seen in the UD was when Will was having his S2 visions of the MF, remember how he would appear in a cloud of hellish red and lights would flash? Yeah. Another big use of red in this show has been for visions, like Will’s UD ones but also El in Billy’s mind in S3. And ofc more notably Max’s Vecna vision in S4.
I want to specifically focus on one picture.
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As you can see, there appears to be a figure walking along the tree path, with perhaps a taller figure on the left but that is hard to tell because it could just be part of the tree. Stranger Things Spoilers was the account that got these set photos and look at the comment they just liked on Insta.
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I think it’s safe to say they’re hinting that the figure walking is Will.
Which basically ties this whole week of filming together and seems to be pointing at the fact that Will is gonna be exploring his UD connection and that’s a major component of this season (duh).
I personally think we’re gonna see Will have visions of his time there as a child, but also he will be able to go there mentally like he did in S2, perhaps this time being taunted and brainwashed by Vecna. “He spies back”.
So there you go folks, it seems like our beloved Will Byers is gonna be greatly suffering from supernatural horrors beyond our comprehension, once again.
I wonder what will be able to pull him back from all this mental deterioration he’s surely gonna face again.
Could it be the power of family love and perhaps…gay love?
The Duffers did say to rewatch S2 🤷‍♀️
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onyourhyuck · 9 months
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The Tattoo Artist. | L.MK
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— Prologue: “Since when did i get this tattoo?”
— Summary: Where one late night visit to your shop with a drunk man asking you to do his tattoo turns to an one night stand at your shop.
— Genre: Smut. Dom!mark. One night stand type of trope. Y/n!tattoo artist. Mark loves tattoos. Mention of alcohol use. Sex in a tattoo store. Mark hitting it from behind. Overstimulation. Unprotected sex. Squirting. Ass play. Mark really loves Y/n’s ass. lip ring MARK LEE. Plot twist at the end / Cliff Hanger.
— Notes:
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The night out was Mark’s typical routine. He leaves his apartment block and gets picked up by his two friends who accompany him to go out drinking and partying like every other night. Yuta and Johnny. These two boys are like glued on to Mark’s hips. However tonight it seems like they found themselves ladies and happen to be swooned.
Typical Yuta and Johnny, Mark thought.
They said it’s ‘boy’s night’ yet they always find themselves ladies to get distracted by and Mark was left either third wheeling or led to be alone drinking his single sorrows away.
Honestly Mark prefers it that way, being single. Less hassle to be dealing with relationships and the breakup that comes with it too. Mark can’t be dealing with a girl who complains about his lifestyle choices either. He’s too caught up in the present moment and he’s never thinking about the future. The man is doing what most men in their adulthood years do — drink, party, maybe get high or something along the way.
Then wake up the next day absolutely hungover to the point your memory couldn’t even remember what you ate yesterday. And then try to recount the times you drank last night because you’re grieving how bad the headache is. The cycle continues the following night on the same day. Your friends ask you to go out and Mark accepts because he cannot say no to free drinks.
It’s a struggle. It’s a blessing but a struggle. The idea feels good and then when the happy hours pass Mark feels completely utterly shit.
Mark tells himself ‘I quit drinking. It’s the last time I’m drinking this much’ and then? Contradicted his own statement. He gets drunk, drinks past the limits maybe even more than he drank last time.
Another thing Mark has a hard time saying no to?
Tattoos.
The one thing that Mark cannot say no to other than free alcohol would be tattoos. He already has four on his body and Mark finds them so fascinating. It’s like a way to express himself.
Guilty pleasure would be the best way to describe his relationship with the needing urging to cover all of his body in tattoos. However he knows he cannot do that. At least not unless he has the money to get every part of his body covered in ink.
The man dips the glass of cola and the whiskey he managed to mix together, and then Mark found himself watching his two friends flirt away and dance with the two ladies they found to be attracted to. He can’t believe he’s the one who got asked out by then and now he’s left alone to his own company. These two surely never understand what the bro code is. Mark found himself growing slightly eager so he spiced the drinks concentration up and decided to go for the heavier beverages now.
That night if you asked Mark how much he drank he couldn’t answer you clearly, because he drank a lot more. Mark managed to woo some people himself in the crowd whenever he dances and joins the huddle however the drunk he got the more indescribable feeling of the high notes Mark was feeling began to rub off on him. The man himself wasn’t anymore as sober as he wanted to be this night but, he was still able to walk a little and manage to speak.
You can say he build up the tolerance due to his alcoholic tendencies. Mark isn’t proud of it but he’s definitely grateful otherwise Mark would have passed out by now.
Passed out somewhere on the road, or maybe a bench at a park and slept there all through the night until the morning which is even scarier to Mark. Thankfully though he has a high tolerance and so his awareness was better than most.
The nightclub itself was getting too overwhelming for Mark and he managed to slip out and sent a text to Johnny and Yuta in their following group chat that he’s going to go home.
Or at least Mark said he was, that was until he got tired of waiting and then his eyes pitch on a white paper hung up on those wooden lamp street lights. The cab wasn’t going to get here anytime soon considering the night hours are always filled with other party wild animals that are booking them. Mark’s eyes were now glued tight on that paper with the large letters to him ‘Neo’s tattoo’s!’
He squints his eyes to get a better glance, the alcohol was really getting to his poor eye sight. He’s already half blind as a bat but with the alcohol doing it’s job, it’s safe to say Mark’s sight is equal to his own grandfather now.
But that paper got him intrigued and it spoke one word and one word only to convince Mark: He needs to get a new tattoo.
It might not be the time for that but who’s going to stop him? No one. Not even his friends could do that even if they were here in the moment with him Mark would not be able to budge away from his decision to change his mind. Mark was suddenly overlapping with curiosity and excitement, he wonders what tattoos do you make? And he wonders if your shop is nearby. When he looks back at that poster he checks the address and he realised the street; it’s in the same city he was in. Mark thought it’s destiny. What are the coincidences that the same shop he wants to find and get to is on the same area as the nightclub he was in right now?
Mark doesn’t believe in coincidences so that alone makes him a believer of fate, and fate alone. When the feet take steps forward now walking down the streets that are half empty filled with wind breeze and dusts of leaves panning over the roads, cars passing by especially taxis dropping off other people ready to go on the night out; it takes a long minute of Mark looking from each street to street determined in finding this tattoo shop.
It says the opening hours are until 3am. Mark has at least an hour to spare. He cannot be wasting any longer so Mark was quick on his feet running from direction to another space until,
The same building has appeared in front of him. The same exact place on the sheet of paper he found. Mark takes a quick glance from the paper to the real life building with the signs of neon green ‘NEO’S TATTOOS.’ And he found himself growing warm and excited. Mark drunk out of his mind now though and it seems like this made him even more delusional to think getting a tattoo whilst drunk was a brilliant idea.
“So this is the place?” Mark quips under the breath before reaching the palm on the doorknob opening the door. When entering a small ‘ring ring’ was heard by the bell clinking. It alerts a figure to walk in to greet him.
When the figure approached he looks slightly mesmerised by the young woman ahead of him. You look beautiful, which was a high compliment considering he doesn’t say it to anyone often.
Your eyebrows raise up at the man that looks like trouble and definitely smells like trouble; from one glance you can tell this man was absolutely steaming from head to toe, he was definitely drunk, it was very obvious in his eyes and how he lets them wander around your tattoo store. He saw the chairs, the tattoo sketches and designs hung up on the wall, as well as your equipment in the far back. It looks like you were about to close down but now that he’s arrived you look like you could use an extra customer for tonight. Because he’s not leaving until he gets a tattoo from you.
At this point it’s an addiction, a worse addiction than his love for alcohol. He’s obsessed with them.
You now spoke with a working smile. “What can i do for you? I was just about to close but i guess I can do a small tattoo if you’d want a quick one.” It could definitely help with the extra money so you’re thinking why not.
He comes forward as he sits down nodding. “Great, what do you usually draw? Can I see a sketch book if you have one?”
Your eyes turn to the back as you grab over a thick book full of your sketches and you hand it to him hoping he finds something he takes a liking to. You don’t have much time anyways so he’s going to have to be quick and snappy. Mark flips through pages checking the sketches meanwhile you’re here checking him out from head to toe, it’s not like you wanted to, but you can’t help but notice he has like four other tattoos already.
Mark wore a loose polo-sweatshirt over a white tee. The black hair loosely curled and messy it looks like the wind made it slightly more naturally lifted, it makes him look ten times more boyish in your opinion. The two ears were all pierced with earrings that dangle around it caught your eye the moment he stepped inside your store too, they shine and blind anyone that stares. Adding on the piercings he has, Mark happens to have a lip ring piercing on top of his lips. The right side was pierced and it made him even more attractive and unreal to you. What was happening to you? And who was this drunk guy wanting a tattoo from you?
It looks like he had quite a bit to drink too. It’s not a first time since you had a customer who came asking for a tattoo but it’s definitely a first time when that customer is drunk out of his brain.
But you can’t change that. You can’t even stop your customers if they want something because it’s up to them and their will alone.
Mark lifts his head up trailing as he was watching your sketch book with observant eyes, Mark has a sharp eye attention to detail and your work was truly remarkable. It captures certain emotions.
He looks at you now almost In admiration. “Your work is amazing. I must say I’m impressed with every one.” He then lifts the sketch book up and pints to the two wings that come along from two branch leaves. “But this one looks good. I want this one.” Mark said now as he treads his index finger on it pointing at the sketch picture.
Anyone could tell his words meant a lot to you because you gave him a humble smile but then you grab the sketch book looking at the tattoo. You wonder where he wants it tattooed now.
“Okay I can do this. Where do you want it tattooed?” Your question was heard when Mark laid down at the chair and gets himself comfortable while you grab your equipment. The ink pen was lifted and you push yourself on a red stool chair spinning yourself round to where Mark was laying on the salon chair.
He looks comfortable now on the salon chair and Mark looks over at you now that you got everything and your own tattoo table was prepared with the remaining ink and colours if he wanted any to the tattoo. It’s all up to him.
“I was thinking my neck?” Mark retorts back and you find yourself watching now the Adam’s apple and neck area of his. Your hands that are wearing gloves reach out to rub and feel it as you hum thinking.
You thought maybe it wasn’t a good idea but the tattoo would really compliment him if he had it there. You can’t help but think; Mark has a really good sense of position and where it can look the best. It’s something not many people who you tattooed for have. Mark has a strong sense of attention to detail you feel and you’re right.
“You have a keen eye. Okay I can do it but you’re going to have to be very still.” You warn now sternly and Mark can’t help but look away as you start to stick the sketch on his neck so you can copy the same picture on his skin with the following ink later on. The way you feel his neck tense up while you do this. It’s not even that you’re just too close up and Mark’s drunk mind was doing a lot more than just being patient to get the tattoo done.
Usually Mark was quiet. He doesn’t really speak or make any small conversations with other tattoo artists.
But he has the urge to start one now. Might be the alcohol making him want to speak or something. Or maybe he’s curious about you.
The store was rather quiet and because of the late hours it makes sense why it was so empty and isolated. It was just the two of you in a half dimly lit store with the tattoo artist so close to his neck sketching it with the running tattoo pen that’s now buzzing against his neck sending tiny electric vibrations through his body. It was a rather stingy pain but the pain was what made this all a running fun cycle for Mark, because it was something that he feels and Mark’s addicted to it.
In a way it was because of the process too. Mark just loves to see people be able to draw such a thing on human skin.
The quiet place grew even more dark but the dimly lit fairy lights made this store a little more appealing and refreshing. It felt like you’re so focused you couldn’t see Mark’s eyes on the side watching you. With the corner of his eye Mark saw your concentration mode on. The way your eyes were never blinking or batting an eye away. Your nose long and still, your eyebrows arched forward as you’re bend down over to the neck area tattooing with the ink gun sketching it out. It leaves you in your own thoughts and the man in front of you wonders what you’re thinking of? Silence is a fine tailor and it suits you perfectly because you’re a tailor threading every bit of ink on his beautiful soft neck.
It didn’t help because Mark wasn’t the only one that’s been stunned because he was checking you out. Not sure if it was because of how drunk he was but maybe also considering the closeness between you two.
His eyes were looking down at your cleavage. You wore this white tank top on which leaves certain parts of you exposed. And your beautiful hair tucked into a messy-ish bun. Your appearance was slightly rough but very artistic because you had tattoos yourself around your arm and fingers. They were small tattoos but Mark loved them on you.
He’s always loved tattoos on other people too. He wonders if there’s any meanings for you behind them?
“I notice you have tattoos, what’s the meaning behind them?” Mark now acquired to know because he wishes to get to know you some more and might as well right?
It’s just the two of you alone in your tattoo shop. And Mark was feeling like a chatter box. This might just be because he’s drunk or perhaps he’s curious about you and the silence was killing him.
Your eyebrows rose up as you heard the silence break between the two and you were not expecting him to go suddenly all asking questions on you. He looks like the silent type. Mark usually never really speaks during getting tattoos or anything like that but with you? Mark feels like he has to ask otherwise his curiosity will be killing him all night and he won’t be able to sleep afterwards.
You bring your face back up away from his neck. Your eyes meet his and you watch him waiting for your answer. Honestly you found your meaning to the tattoos not be as interesting to share so you always found it unnecessary to bring out their meaning. Afterall to you it’s just ink on your body and there wasn’t a whole deep thinking process behind it like Mark is thinking of.
In a way the meaning behind your tattoos it’s kinda silly.
“The one on my fingers is a tiny heart matching with my friend who has the other half of the heart.” When you reveal it Mark’s eyes light up. That was cute, you’re matching with a friend.
Mark found himself liking the idea honestly. He always wanted to match a tattoo with someone from his friends but no one wanted a tattoo and he’s the only guy who actually has a tattoos. Mark asked Yuta once but Yuta said he might do it. Though that’s been a year now and it looks like the idea left his friend’s mind.
Mark chuckles. “I’m jealous. I’ve always wanted to match tattoos with someone.” You smirk and raise an eyebrow. “How come you don’t match with anyone?”
Your eyes make eye contact as you ask. Mark trials softly in a slight sarcastic way. “Well I think it’s quite obvious but because none of my friends really like tattoos.”
‘Oh so he can be sarcastic too?’ You find his words to be amusing because they’re all out of a bantering gesture and so you don’t pay much mind to the words and just take it all in. You nod at him chuckling back now as your head leans forward to now tattoo the rest of it.
Your fingers brush along the tattoo bow and you feel like this was all coming along now definitely. The tattoo was done nearly but all you have to do is tidy the edges up and do more polishing, which won’t take a while. The tattoo is pretty simple and clean. And Mark looks amazing with it so far. Your eyes can’t help but shake the feeling that he gets more attractive.
Mark’s voice comes out now again, he asked another question. “So why did you become a tattoo artist?” And you suck in a little breath. He really likes to ask deep questions doesn’t he?
You completely dodge the question by countering it.
“Are you always this talkative with your other tattoo artists?” You point out as you’re trying to concentrate on finishing this up, you really don’t have much time until you gotta close down the shop and everything.
Mark was himself not knowing why he’s so talkative with you because usually he was the quiet type during the tattoo appointments and what not. In a way he doesn’t speak unless the other person was carrying the conversation.
Mark smirks a little. “Only with you actually.”
You scoff not believing that considering how many times he wants to speak to you. You finish the last moments of the tattoo and look back at the handsome man who sits up on the salon chair checking the mirror.
“You like it?” You ask when he’s watching the tattoo in the mirror as you’re trying to read his facial expression for a way to know if he likes the tattoo or if he doesn’t perhaps. You pray that he does because you cannot go back to fix it either.
Mark turns to you now as the mirror in his hand was dropping back down and the upside face he had on turns to a smile.
“Answer my question first and I’ll answer yours if i like it or not.” He now said and you find yourself becoming cornered.
Was he really that into the idea of getting to know you? Not as a tattoo artist only but as a person as well? You’re left here wondering why he’s so curious about you.
Mark’s eyes were deeply staring into you which never leave your face the moment he walked into the store anyways and he found himself completely mesmerised. You look boyish and rough out but he likes how it suits you and your alternative style almost.
He whispers in a taunting gaze on his face. “So what will it be darling?” Mark waits for your reply and you let out a little frown stepping forward closing your gap only a little. There was still a bit of space between the both of you from where he sat and where you stood in front of Mark.
“It’s fine you don’t have to tell me how you feel, i can just read your expression and know you like it very much. I don’t leave my customers unsatisfied anyways.” You now point out smartly but in a very arrogant speaking way and Mark smirks hearing your words. You never leave a customer unsatisfied?
“Well I’m a very unsatisfied customer right now.” He tells you with emphasis on the specific wordings now as he stares into your beautiful eyes.
Well he’s now going to push his luck with you that’s for sure. The flirty expression you’re giving him as him thinking you’re definitely now flirting and giving Mark an opening block to take.
“Oh? Why don’t you show me with what.” Your lips pucker into a little amused grin. “Perhaps I can help you out…”
And he did take the opportunity. He seized the opportunity when you said those words out of your loving mouth as his hands around your waist slither round like a fashionable belt.
Oh how good it felt to be pulled closer by the waist to the drunken stranger you just met and you’re now closing the space when you feel how hot his intoxicated breath feels on top of your nose and cheekbones. You find yourself imagining just how good it must be to kiss Mark and the boy read your mind because the next minute he leans down to capture a kiss together.
You found yourself groaning the minute he kissed you with his belting tongue.
The kiss was a mixture between two beverages; to Mark you’re like wine. You’re strong and you knew what you want from the get-go. And he’s like whiskey unpredictable and intense. Mark defeats your groans with his own as he kissed you with more tugging force than before as his palms on the sides of your face go reach to deepen the kiss making it much more steamy and aggressive.
Groans of your voice muffled as if they were buried by sand underneath it. Your lips gracefully touch between Mark’s sharp teeth grazing at the bottom lip he pulls on it which made you moan as your eyes squint forward.
Saliva connects the both of you which drove Mark over the edge and so did the boner between his pants very much so, he had that for over an hour with you. You’re just too attractive and the closeness earlier had him itching to get his hands on you.
Mark doesn’t usually sleep around with people but when he does it’s always a good time, it has to be someone he finds a connection with and you happen to be one of those very few people.
It wasn’t just because of your attractiveness but also because of how well your conversations bounce back. Mark knew you were a little stubborn because when he lifts you up to switch the position between you both your voice comes out as a groan and it seems like you were playing hard to get knowing your hands were teasing the hem of his boxers under the lower clothing.
“Take them off, darling.” Mark said demanding to you smirking as he feels your fingers play between the boxers now. You look up sheepishly.
You’re enjoying how needy this drunk man was, you can’t even remember if he said his name to you but you enjoy seeing his reactions to your difficult self and your teasing tactics. “What if i refuse?”
You saw how his expression falters into a scared one when you said that you’ll refuse to take off his clothing and he leans closer to kiss your neck, practically whining now.
“Please… Y/n… be good to me.”
‘Oh god he’s whining… that’s hot.’ You can’t help but fall for the idea even more, maybe it doesn’t hurt to continue a little bit more. You tell yourself this but you knew it’s risky. But you’re so tempted to take that risk and continue this. Even if you’re the sober one you’re so swayed by this man in front of you.
The moment you heard his pleading words, only directed to you, it makes your body act on its own and so your lips reconnect with Mark’s and your hands find themselves slipping off his shirt and then the oversized black cargos he wore. The boxers playfully rubbed by your fingertips around made Mark so peevish because you heard the querulous words that are nothing but needy whines to your ears telling you to take them off. Your eyes met his words coming out his mouth as you let your mouths connect into another hungry kiss while slipping your hand into his boxers to feel how harden his wood was and you’re left gasping when Mark grabs your hips and starts to work his way around your own clothing now. You feel your cheeks expand as the kiss goes on and on. Mark was an amazing kisser, you have to admit. He knows exactly how to get you going.
At once your nudity became a blessing to Mark as he feels himself growing even more greedy. Having you look so good and untouched by him was temptation in disguise. You feel your breasts fondled with roughly by a tight and firm squeeze from his hands. The lips around your neck marvel at your glowing skin. The simply stunning eyes of yours close and open at each pleasuring angle when he kissed you even lower than before.
“Please don’t keep me waiting.” You sigh into the air as your head flung back. You don’t want to wait as much as you wanted to anymore.
Your body was just growing to want him.
Mark stood with his furtive body when you said this and the playful eyebrows raise up at you enjoying how vocal you’re becoming. Now look where the table’s turned? You’re the one begging him now. He enjoys it much more than he thought he would so he runs along his hand by your silhouette until they met your hips and he slowly moves them around.
Twisting you around he saw you gandering your face in the behind direction where he stood now towering you leaving no space and your ass rubbing on his erected boner. Mark rubs them between your ass cheeks as his wispy groan reaches your ears. You bite your bottom lip. “Shit… please fuck me already.”
You’re lacking the patience. This man needs to be inside you or else you’re going to have a breakdown.
Mark smirks leaning closer with his nipping voice that cuts you open like scissors across light paper. “I think we should introduce ourselves before you say that don’t you think?”
He was right but now picking a time to introduce yourselves? He knew what he was doing he’s just making you wait a little longer.
Your face diminished and broke down in to a hefty storm. Mark purposely rubs his cock’s tip between your entrance to tease you while waiting for you to start. “Fine…My name is Y/n… what’s yours?” Your voice came off much short because he made your own sound of your voice to differ when the tip rubs the top of your ass.
“Mark… Mark Lee.” He whispers now and he’s satisfied. He gotta know who he is going to fuck after all and he wants you to know what name you’re going to scream all night.
Your leering eyes went down when a prod between your walls now sips on a long thick shaft deeply inside you. Your voice cuts off by a palm on top of your mouth and you’re muffling your sudden jolting voice because of how intensely he has you stretching. You’ve never been this surprised by how thick he was. Mark was making you wistfully begging to have more.
“Oh fuck… please Mark… just fuck my brains out.” You’re not able to calm the storm before anything else you’re just begging the guy you met in your tattoo storm a hour ago to fuck the shit out of you.
It’s so unlike your character, but Mark had you twisted.
He paced forward rutting the hips against your round beautifully shaped ass he couldn’t get enough of, heck, he was so obsessed with it especially when you’re forced into a behind position over the salon chair to get your back blown out by him. It was a sight that made his night more memorable even if he was slightly intoxicated he found himself becoming drunk off you now.
And the paces was so eager and quick your insides feel like you’re being roughly pushed through a moving platform in and out. It feels so good when his length kisses each of your sweet sensitive spots inside and then finds places you never knew someone could reach so deep inside you. It made you even closer because Mark had a hand under your stomach area holding you even closer than before, it’s like this man wants you to be a part of him at this point. He’s a wild animal, and he’s definitely treating you like one because he’s doing exactly as you told him to do: to fuck your brains out.
Colliding with the movements between your two asscheeks Mark follows his eyes down and slams his hands on your beautiful skin giving you spanks with each incoming shift his thrusts make. You feel yourself seeping out your moans and the tattoo store was echoing all your body parts slapping together. You feel him being so deeply inside you that your lower stomach with his hand on felt the imprinting cock in your guts and that your arms were folded forward in a weak lowering form over the salon chair. He keeps fucking you so hard you’re struggling to stand still. He made your legs so weak you found yourself only moaning out to the top of your lungs and Mark had you exactly how he wanted, a mess.
His eyes burned with lust watching over your expression seeing how your eyebrows were fluttering and your eyes were watering with how good and intense he was fucking you from behind, you’re bend over for a customer you just met for the first time and you feel so sheepishly embarrassed but at the same time; why was it such a turn on?
“Is this what you wanted on a Friday night?” Mark whispers dangerously on top of your earlobe as you find a shudder across your spine, Mark’s hands brush alongside your silhouette arching for him, bending for him and only him.
You feel your lips pucker out and the condescending tone Mark spoke with to you makes your stomach flutter. “You’re such a whore Y/n… I bet you’d fuck any of your customers if they got their hands on you.” He threads like a champ he was, because he had you wrapped around his finger.
“N-no… that’s not true.” You said embarrassed because it was definitely easy to tease you in this position and situation.
Mark laughs a little darkly behind and you feel the thrusts increase even more, he was literally ramming inside you and your voice cuts off with a jolting sound. Your body pressed so deeply on the salon chair you feel the metallic parts of the arms stand coldly pressing against your body full of heat.
“I don’t believe that.” He croaks out leaning down to press a kiss against your spine while the lower body of his was jabbing the pleasuring thrusts and the hand down at your stomach holding you moves even lower to touch on your clit.
The nub down below becomes easily swollen with how his fast two middle fingers press and flick it as he’s thrusting you. Your voice became even more loud now because the overstimulated hand on your clit was pleasuring you there but so was his hard cock deeply buried to kiss the top of your womb.
“Pretty whores listen to me, will you be good and do the same?” He now asked you while his hands was abusing your down regional and you grab the salon chair feeling so weak to the pleasure your mind went poof and became blank.
Your hips stutter and so did your legs that resemble jello and it makes Mark smirk. The sight of you pressed in her own store while getting her back blown out by a customer she met, it definitely was something he’s never going to let go off.
“Y-yeah… hhgh I can’t last like this Mark…” You nod your head frantically but the way you’re literally holding on to your last strand because the orgasm was reaching you so quickly.
You’re not going to last much, Mark knows it.
The hand speeds up the movements however, he wants you to finish and see you come undone to the too overlapping pleasures between your hole and your clit getting abused out by him. You firmly shut your eyes.
“Cum darling, you’ve been good so far.” Mark sternly said while he awaits you to reach your end. The world stops for you in that moment.
When he gave you the permission to come undone on his hand and cock at the same time, you found yourself ascending and your head hung low as your body pushed out your liquid down on the ground dripping. You’re soaking if anything. Mark had a proud wide grin on his face now and goes behind to kiss your droopy mouth panting. The lip ring touched your mouth as the kiss was sloppy from behind.
You moan when Mark pulls away from the kiss and his hand leaves your clit alone. Your own orgasm pushed him very close to his own high. He just needs to have a few more thrusts and Mark feels himself becoming done too.
It’s the way your body was making him feel so good too. It’s no doubt your bodies are compatible.
“Hmm… you’re a squirter? That’s so hot.” He jeers at you with both devastated degradation and flirtation behind that tone.
You roll your eyes back in the aftermath of the pleasure. This was probably your first time ever having this much of an orgasm. You don’t remember ever squirting before.
“Fuck…” You whisper under your breath when Mark pulls your hips forward and makes your body stand up straight again because you’re now becoming too weak to even make yourself stand up in this behind position, your orgasm had your legs turning into weak muscles.
Mark whispers now warningly. “Now let me cum yeah? Be good and let me pump you up full of my load.”
You feel your eyes igniting like big red flames at the idea. When Mark starts to thrust again your body starts to break down even more down to the pleasure.
It was all too much but you can tell from how deep he’s reaching you this man won’t be able to last very long. Your walls squeezing him around the shape we’re making it so hard.
Mark was pumping himself until he can feel his cock literally tremble to continue anymore. And you feel the salon chair shake with each rough patching movement against your body rocking it forwards.
The store lets the body slapping between your sweating bodies to continue as you’re in your own world together. Mark had you pulling up against him as he lets your breasts flow with the rough movements of rocking you forward until he has his own orgasm itching at the door.
You feel your heart pace up when you heard Mark groan softly against your back. “Fuck fuck fuck…” and you just knew he was so close now, because his voice felt like a mixture of a whine and a groan.
The silky velvet walls of yours had him begging to pump you full of his cum and have you dripping out only of him. To have you ooze only him out and that’s exactly what he wants.
He wants you full and stuffed of him.
“So… so close, Y/n… fuck…” Mark’s whiny whispers were caught off at the end a little as he takes a deep breath in and within the same moment he kept up the thrusts.
Even if it was so difficult to continue to stimulate himself until he’s reaching his end, Mark finds himself addicted to the way your womb welcomes him. It feels so good, so much he couldn’t shake the feeling of it away.
Mark jerks forward and then suddenly a cry out was heard with Mark burying his head between your nape and shoulder area, he squeezed himself around your walls so deep you feel the load practically injected inside you. You let out a soft groan at the feeling that you’re being held so tight as Mark slips himself inside you even more to fuck a little bit of his own cum in you to ensure it won’t all fall out.
You feel like your body was melting when Mark huffs out a few burning words from his lips. You find yourself stuck with this man all night…
You wonder if he’s going to remember anything in the morning. Or if he won’t?
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The next morning Mark woke up in his bed completely wrecked and exhausted. Unaware of what’s happened last night it’s like deja vu to him.
Whenever he drinks alcohol he cannot remember a single freaking thing and Mark was in the cycle where he’s telling himself off for drinking way too much.
“I should really stop with the alcohol…” Mark equips with disappointment in his voice, he really should stop.
Walking across the room he was shirtless wearing only grey sweatpants and he slowly moves out of his room to see his roommate Donghyuck already up in the kitchen.
They lived together for nearly a year now. Donghyuck was a year younger than Mark but they’re pretty close now.
Although sometimes they fight, they both really feel like they’re close like brothers. Mark with his tired expression and groggy eyes opens the fridge and yawns into his hand.
“You’re up?” Donghyuck smirks as he saw how hungover his friend was, god he always looks like a mess when he goes out with Johnny and Yuta.
Mark hums grabbing the bottle of milk and pours himself a glass. “God you look like shit.” Donghyuck said now with a little laugh.
The boy wanted to roll his eyes and say how nice of you but instead Mark just drank the glass of milk to neutralise hopefully his stomach otherwise he will be having a hard day ahead.
Hungovers are so bad. He just wished he didn’t drink so much last night but he’s always like this. Mark has no self control at all.
What’s worse?
Mark can’t even remember what happened at all last night. He’s just a blank canvas now. Everytime he drinks Mark couldn’t remember anything even if he tried to remember and make himself forced to see what happened last night he just can’t.
So not only was he left feeling utterly crap. Mark was also having a hard time what happened.
“I’m never drinking again.” Mark said with a sigh out once he finally finished drinking the glass of milk. He puts it down in the sink and Donghyuck knows Mark won’t keep to those words.
He wants to tell Mark he needs to stop lying to himself but he doesn’t say anything because his eyes caught on Mark’s neck something.
Donghyuck comes a closer to Mark now with squinting eyes. He recognised something different about him. “Hey Mark did you get a new tattoo last night?”
“What? No…” Mark said with a soft rejection because he certainly doesn’t remember getting one. He slowly moves to his room opening the closet to look in a mirror and when he saw that Donghyuck was actually right…
His eyes widen and he runs his hands over the tattoo that stings a little at the same time, he wonders when did he get this tattoo?
The tattoo was beautiful and it was delicately done. It was two wings crossing together and Mark wonders if he got this done when he was absolutely hammered because if that’s the case, Mark feels so dumb. He can’t even remember the night or anything like that.
Mark whispers in disbelief. “Since when did i get this tattoo?”
He’s a little determined to know who did this work, but he cannot remember anything, the next thing he knew he saw his phone buzz open with messages from late night.
One that came from the contact name: The Tattoo Artist.
The Tattoo Artist: Hey Mark had fun last night. I hope you like your tattoo and you can come by round the shop sometime! :) -Y/n
One thing he knows for sure, he had your number and he now knows your name which rings a bell to him. It’s like his body remembers you but his brain cannot. It’s like he knows you guys did something more than just a tattoo because the text messages says it all.
Mark is definitely meeting you again, to get a new tattoo, or to end up drunk at your store again.
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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out. <3
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