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deunmiu-dessie · 25 days

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ⅶ▬ ⁽ 𝓌𝑒𝓃𝒹𝒾𝑔𝑜 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₃˖₇ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, sloppy writing, NSFW, explicit content, teratophilia, wendigo/human, rough sex, unprotected sex, gang bang, dubcon, fear, kidnapping, reader wears glasses, porn no plot. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : ya'll i hate this so much, but i wanted to post something today-- sorry if it's all over the place!

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: while babysitting for your aunt, you find yourself stranded in the living room.

꒰male!wendigo ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

" Don't worry Aunt J, I got this. "

𝒯he woman gazes at you with a concerned expression, her eyes filled with worry. However, she manages to muster a nod and gently plants a tender kiss on your cheek. "Make sure to lock the doors before you go upstairs. The house only locks my room and the kids’. You must be upstairs before 9:30, as that's when the doors lock. If you're not there by then, you'll be locked out until morning, but even so, if you've locked the front and back doors, you'll be fine. Don't. Forget."

You give her a firm nod, "I won't, I promise."

Recent sightings of a peculiar creature moving around the neighborhood have stirred up fear among the locals, particularly your Aunt whose anxious for the safety of her kids. She sighs and lovingly kisses your forehead, "Alright, enjoy yourself."

As you wave goodbye and lock the back door behind her, you pivot to find your younger cousin watching you with excitement, struggling to manage the baby boy in her arms. You laugh and relieve her of the baby. "How about we bake some brownies together?"

She lets out a joyful cheer, giggling as she dashes towards the kitchen, her excitement palpable. You carefully place the baby in his high chair, turning him to face the bustling kitchen. His eyes widen in wonder as he takes in the scene, a big grin spreading across his little face.

You enthusiastically bring your hands together, a wide grin spreading across your face. " Shall we? "

—

As you cradle the baby boy in your arms, a sense of warmth and tenderness envelops you and you can't help but pout softly, and coo at him. His little tiny fingers have loosened their grip on the milk bottle, causing it to slip from his hands and land softly on your lap. His eyes are closed, and you can't help but admire the long, black lashes that frame his lids. With a gentle touch, you press a loving kiss to your cousin's forehead, careful not to disturb his sleep.

You rise from the comfortable couch, making sure to move with utmost care so as not to awaken the sleeping child. A soft giggle escapes your lips as you hear a shuddering sigh emanate from him. It's moments like these that remind you of the innocence and beauty of childhood, it's something you miss.

Navigating your way around the couch, you begin your ascent up the stairs towards your Aunt's room. The woman had been nervous to leave them with your grandmother, though loving and caring, she's started to show signs of hip pains and occasional forgetfulness. Hence, your Aunt relies on you to watch over the little ones during her night shift at work.

Using your foot, you nudged the door open and switched off the lamp that cast a faint glow in the room. Gently placing the boy on the bed, you made sure his tummy was flat against the soft mattress before pulling the blanket over him and only up to his waist. You brush his hair away from his face before quietly exiting the room, the soft click of the door closing making you heave a sigh.

Turning around, you take a couple of steps forward and enter your other cousin's room. She's lying with her laptop open on her chest, her eyes closed, and her soft snores filling the room. A smile played on your lips as you walked over to her, closed the laptop, and placed it on her desk. Using her LED remote, you turned off the strips of light around the room, plunging it into darkness.

After your eyes swiftly adapted to the darkness, you carefully tucked the covers over her petite frame and quietly exited the room. The gentle sound of her door closing brought forth another sigh of relief. Glancing at your watch, you nodded with contentment, realizing that you had a valuable half an hour before all the room doors would be securely locked for the night. It provided ample time to tidy up and prepare for the following day.

As you made your way down the stairs, the creaking noise made you wince, fully aware that you couldn't afford for either child to stir. Swallowing hard, you descended the stairs with newfound caution. As you finally reached the bottom of the staircase, a wave of relief washed over you. The tension that had been building in your chest slowly began to dissipate without any sounds of the baby crying or the little girl calling out.

You started by straightening up the living room, turning on some lo-fi music, and cleaning quickly. After switching off the main light, you flick on the display light, which emits a soft glow, barely doing anything to brighten the room. The kitchen took a lot longer, particularly when clearing out the solidified chocolate from the bowls and wiping down the counters. In the end, it took a total of 20 minutes to finish cleaning the kitchen.

You couldn't help but feel a surge of nervousness as you stole another glance at your watch. The timer displayed only 10 minutes left, intensifying your anxiety. Shaking your head, you dismissed your nerves and concentrated on preparing for tomorrow.

Lost in thought, the sound of your watch going off caused your heart to skip a beat. Cursing, you quickly packed up, whispering small, scared 'no's to yourself. A faint cheer escaped you as you completed the task, rushing to ascend the stairs on time. Your heart sank as the resounding click of all the doors locking echoed in your ears.

You felt a slight vibration and immediately retrieved your phone from your back pocket. It was your Aunt, making sure everything was okay with you and the kids.

Auntie : Hey girly, are you and the kids in alright? Did you make it to the room?

Nervously, you gulped, your hands shaking and palms moist with sweat. Without hesitation, you promptly responded, your teeth prodding at your bottom lip.

You : Yes we did, the kids are asleep.

Lying to your aunt made your heartache, but you were too prideful to tell her the truth. Instead of offering a reply, she simply responded with a thumbs-up emoji and a heart. Letting out a heavy, ragged breath, you swiftly returned your phone to your pocket. Descending the stairs, your eyes slowly adapted to the dimness. The previously illuminated display had now turned off automatically, leaving you huddled on the couch, overwhelmed by a sense of unease.

Following a good thirty-minute interval, your fear gradually subsided. You reached for your phone, scrolling through social media to find no one online.

Growing more confident, you entertained the possibility that whatever had caused unrest in the community had either disappeared or would not manifest tonight. As you removed your glasses, your vision blurred slightly, your body relaxed, and your gaze fixated on the phone screen that was dangerously close to your face. ( It was probably why you had glasses in the first place. )

Time slipped away faster than expected, and suddenly, it was midnight. The profound silence stirred up a fresh wave of concern, as the absence of wildlife sounds, like crickets and owls, made you feel the urge to curl up and disappear into the couch.

Your phone vibrated, signaling the low battery before shutting down abruptly. You clicked your tongue in annoyance and silently made your way towards the charger, plugging it in. Slipping out of your tight-fitting jeans, you remained in your undergarments, stretching your legs. Folding the jeans neatly, you placed them on the back of a nearby chair before returning to the couch and settling in comfortably with a soft, velvet blue throw draped over your exposed legs.

As tiredness crept in, your eyes began to droop, causing your vision to blur and lose focus. The sudden piercing bark of a dog jolted you out of your drowsy state, causing your entire body to freeze. Which was so unusual for the neighbor's dogs, who were known for their friendly demeanor and familiarity with the community, this feral, unfamiliar bark made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

The barking grew increasingly louder and more aggressive, accompanied by menacing snarls. The sounds elicited a pounding sensation in your chest, so intense that it caused a searing pain. Unexpectedly, the barking and snarling abruptly ceased, but rather than providing any relief, it caused a profound sense of despair, causing your heart to sink.

Holding your breath, your eyes widened as a towering, monstrous, and slender figure glided past the frosted windows adjacent to the door. Its voice was distorted, emitting broken and eerie sounds, desperately pleading in its otherworld gravelly voice, "Help me. Someone help."

The arrangement of your Aunt's house was peculiar. The back door functioned as the main entrance, revealing the dining room and kitchen upon entry. Moving forward led to the living room, while continuing onwards brought you to the front door. Situated to the right of the front door were the stairs leading to both your Aunt's and the children's rooms.

At the moment, you found yourself positioned in the living room, standing tall with your gaze fixed on the door. In an instant, the door seemed to draw nearer than you had initially perceived, causing a sense of fear to grip you. As it vanished beyond the second window, you released a sigh of relief, nearly letting out a scream as the shadow reappeared by the window, as if it had detected the sound of your breath.

The door was locked, it couldn't get in, right? Your vision became obscured by tears, and you chastised yourself for your stupidity. Part of the prep was making sure that the doors that couldn't be locked by the system were locked manually. Regrettably, in your rush to reach the room, you had completely forgotten to lock the front door.

The turning of the doorknob emits a high-pitched squeak, prompting you to immediately flatten yourself against the couch while covering your mouth and nose with your hands. The grating sound of the door opening compels you to tightly shut your eyes. A cool draft of air infiltrates the room, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. Within this tense ambiance, a menacing snarl and a huff reverberate, accompanied by the unsettling noise of bones cracking as the intruder maneuvers to enter the house.

The soft whimper of the floorboards serves as a warning of its presence, prompting you to reluctantly open your eyes. A sudden gasp escapes your lips as you behold its towering horns, skeletal face morphing into a snout, and blood-red eyes. With a shudder, you tightly shut your eyes as the creature's head swivels in your direction, swiftly advancing toward where you lay on the couch.

Merely a few inches away from your position, the creature sniffs the air intently before gradually drawing nearer. As you open your eyes once more, you carefully scrutinize its appearance. Contrary to your initial perception, the creature's physique is not as slender as it seemed from afar. Adorned with a layer of fur, its arms display a muscularity that is not excessive, striking a harmonious balance. Furthermore, its thighs possess a substantial thickness, evoking a sense of strength. However, as your gaze trails down, you notice that its hind legs taper into a much skinnier form.

The creature looms closer than anticipated, its intense heat palpable against your skin. Despite its towering presence, its warm breath gently brushes your face. Your breathing stops as you feel something drag across your skin, it's rock hard but there's a softness to it. It pulsates rhythmically, and you swear that you can feel veins throbbing along its surface, a sticky and viscous substance oozing along your skin, inflicting a searing sensation.

You come to the realization that you are positioned just below the creature's waist, nearly at the same height. Was it– its cock touching you? Tears escape from your eyes, and you find yourself unable to move as it accidentally nudges against your lips. The creature is still in search of the sound it heard earlier, but your motionless state and barely audible breaths are causing confusion. You wonder briefly if it's blind.

You ache to turn your head away from it, yet you're acutely aware that any movement on your part could potentially alert it, and you could be killed. You endure it, eyes watching its head whip around for you. It leans closer, hips following suit. Scared that it'll notice your presence, in a hushed surrender, you part your lips, just in time for its throbbing member to slide into your warm, saliva-laden mouth— you had refrained from swallowing, fearing that the sound might betray your presence. Underestimated, its long thick cock pushes against your throat, forcing you to suppress any sound that threatens to escape. Perhaps you should've just made a run for it.

You can feel the hefty weight of its balls against your chin and clench your eyes shut as it jerks its hips back, causing you to exhale shakily through your nose. With its motion paused you observe one of its hind legs tapping on the wooden floor, seemingly quivering with delight from the sensation of being in your mouth.

Tears stream down your face as you stifle your sobs, desperately attempting to keep yourself from gagging. The creature's hips begin to thrust with an untamed ferocity, its primal growls and snarls resonating through its chest. Its flavor is raw and invigorating, not entirely repulsive but rather tolerable. The living room fills with the wet, squelching sound as saliva overflows in your mouth. Its member plunges deeper into your throat, causing drool to cascade down your cheek.

Your pussy throbs and clenches despite your fear. The disgust you feel towards yourself for being turned on in such a situation only heightens the sensation of disdain. The beast emits guttural grunts now, its hips faltering, and you can sense its impending climax. Arousal drips from your cunt, coating your labia and making your panties stick to you uncomfortably.

As terrified as you are, the urge to swallow is becoming overwhelmingly difficult to ignore. Squeezing your eyes tightly shut, you succumb to the temptation, swallowing as discreetly as possible, relieved that the sound remains unheard. However, this action seems to have an unexpected effect on the creature, as the feeling of your throat squeezing the tip of its cock causes it to thrust forward abruptly, causing you to gag, feeling it nearly reach the depths of your throat.

Thick ropes of tacky, sweet cum coat your throat white and you find it hard to swallow. Its legs shudder for a moment and it continues to move its hips in your mouth before it thankfully backs away from the couch, seemingly satisfied.

Anticipation filled your gaze as you observed it retreat toward the entrance., almost sighing in relief as you parted your thighs, feeling the tension release as your pussy lips spread apart, the sensation of wetness trickling down your thighs.

Sniff

Your gaze darted upwards, and a surge of fear coursed through you, and it made you want to scream. The creature was gazing in your direction, yet not directly at you. The door became a distant memory as it slowly retraced its steps toward your position, its nose held high in the air. You realized it must have caught the intoxicating scent of your arousal. In a discreet attempt, you closed your legs, hoping to dissuade its advances.

But it persisted, undeterred. With your eyes clenched shut, tears streamed down, obscuring your vision. It halted at your head, lowering itself to take a deep, lingering sniff, still unsatisfied. Lower and lower it ventured, until it paused just above your belly button. Another teasing sniff, followed by a playful chuff, before it finally made its way towards your tightly closed legs.

With a gentle nudge, its snout caressed your thighs, urging you to surrender. You hesitated, knowing that if you resisted, it would employ a more forceful approach. Reluctantly, you yielded, parting your thighs, cursing your decision to forgo pajama bottoms after removing your jeans. A jolt of surprise coursed through you as its elongated, slightly pointed tongue sensually traced the contours of your inner thigh.

Drawing nearer, it sniffed intently, determined to locate the exact origin of the alluring scent. One of its legs rested on the couch, its body contorted to get closer to your pulsating entrance. Though fear gripped you, causing tremors, your wet pussy clenched and released, eagerly anticipating something, anything. The heat of its breath brushed against your legs, its horns pressed against your stomach. Its elongated black tongue slithered forward, disappearing between your thighs, causing your soaked panties to dampen even more so as it leisurely licked and coiled around the fabric.

Eagerly, it buried its head between your luscious thighs, its horns grazing against your quivering stomach. Your body tensed as its teeth sank into your delicate underwear, tearing it apart with horrifying ease. A provocative sniff caused a blush to bloom on your cheeks, and you resisted the urge to close your legs.

And suddenly you’re lost in a haze of desire, your eyes rolled back, surrendering to the intense pleasure coursing through your cunt. Its tongue skillfully traced a path up your slick folds, lavishing attention on your throbbing clit with a delicious roughness. Your legs tensed, responding to the electrifying sensations, while its commanding hands firmly grasped your thighs, ensuring a steady grip as it delved deeper into your pussy.

The relentless drag of its slippery, warm tongue had you gasping for air. It was evident that the beast had developed a fascination with your tender bundle of nerves. As it continued to lap at it, your juices drooled from your throbbing pussy, the thin part of its tongue coiled around your clit, squeezing and prodding it.

You couldn't help but moan out as you came, pussy spasming. Paying no mind to the noise, it continued to lick up your moist slit, rumbling as it stumbled upon your small, tight entrance. Withdrawing, it grasped your legs tightly, almost folding you in half, pressing your thighs against your breasts.

What was happening? What was it doing?

The sheer heaviness of its throbbing member grazing against your drenched folds elicited a sharp intake of breath, at this point you didn't care if you made noise or not. That thing would surely rip your pussy apart.

It prodded at your entrance, clumsily trying to find your hole. When the head of its cock finally slid against you, it snarled lowly, the tip of its cock getting drenched from your arousal. The wendigo slowly inched in and you whine out as the bulbous tip slowly pops in, painfully stretching you. Your thighs tremble as your pussy reluctantly give way to its overwhelming thickness, pulsating around the beast timidly.

You're a moaning mess, completely enthralled as its fat, long cock disappears into your dripping cunt. Every vein and ridge pulsates against your sensitive walls. Your tightness clenches around its cock, causing it to emit a deep growl as it sinks deeper and deeper. The bulbous head tenderly grazes your cervix, while its weighty, thick balls press firmly against your ass. Your whimpers and spasms intensify, your eyes rolling back and your nipples straining against your blouse. It remains motionless for a moment, its breaths labored and its grip tightening against your trembling thighs.

With a forceful pull and a swift thrust, it sets a punishing rhythm. The silhouette of its member presses against your abdomen, and it makes you even whine in embarrassment, cheeks flushing. The fear has ebbed away and you can only moan and cry for more, you can feel the drag of its pelvis touch your aching clit when it pulls out. The pain and pleasure meld together, distorting your vision, your eyes bleary and lips parted.

A particular rough thrust against your g-spot has you cumming hard and long, your pussy gripping its cock tightly, milking it with fervor. It thrusts into you once more, gently stretching your cervix open, its tip finding a comfortable resting place. Hot, thick ropes of cum flood your womb, the sheer girth of its member ensuring not a single drop escapes, it lasts for a few minutes until your stomach extends slightly and you're too tired to move.

As it withdraws, a torrent of cum spills onto the couch, causing your belly to deflate slightly, yet not completely. The wendigo is finally sheathed, its cock nowhere in sight.

In an instant, a sensation of weightlessness engulfs you, as if you are floating on air. You find yourself nestled against the powerful chest of the creature, your mind clouded with desire and confusion. Despite your desperate attempts, you are unable to break free from its hold, your throat throbbing with pain.

In the blink of an eye, the two of you are whisked away, leaving the safety of the house behind. Your feeble attempt to reach for the door is futile, as it vanishes into thin air. Now, surrounded by the mysterious allure of the forest, you realize that you are not alone. More of those captivating creatures encircle you, their presence both exhilarating and unnerving.

Tears cascade down your delicate cheeks as your gaze is drawn to their thick, long, heavy cocks hanging between their legs— despite how absolutely terrified you are, your pussy begins to ache and drip. Gradually, you are lowered onto the soft ground, the sensation of the grass teasing your supine form. One of the creatures steps forward, communicating with its companion in a series of excited chitters.

Your trembling legs are gently parted, allowing a thicker, lengthier shaft to penetrate your eager entrance. The keening sound of your wanton moans fills the air, blending with the rustling of the grass in the secluded clearing. Suddenly, something nudges your lips, and as you gaze upwards, another creature stands before you, its gaze fixated upon your vulnerable form. Without hesitation, you part your lips, your eyes widening in anticipation as their hips thrust forward, plunging into your mouth, instantly throat-fucking you. You splutter and gag, fear settling deep in your chest.

Your gaze becomes misty as your eyes well up, and as you peer through them, you notice a multitude of over 50 more of them, cocks oozing with precum, waiting for a chance to fuck you themselves.

Is this how you'd be living now?

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bywons · 21 days

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𖧷 HEARTSHAKER — LHS

⌕ lee heeseung doesn't know what he wants from his rival, better marks or a kiss

pairing. student!lee heeseung x student!fem! reader wc. 1.4k tw/cw. jealousy, kissing genre. academic rivals to lovers, fluff, highschool au sru's note. requested for my nini love ♡ shitty title ik but i hope ya'll like cuz i dont T0T ( CATALOGUE?! )

¤ feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated! PLS REBLOG ♡

96 out of 100.

thanks to the almighty above that lee heeseung is tired, the basketball jersey stuck to his back, sweat covering his face and colouring the red fabric darker as he pants for his breath, or else the test paper in his hands would have been crumpled and ripped to shreds.

not because of his number obviously.

“99, i knew i rocked this paper!”, a dulcet, familiar voice floats up to heeseung's ear from behind him, followed by a mean eye roll from him and his stance still. heeseung doesn't bother to turn around, not when he recognizes the infuriating feminine voice and already visualises the usual dark brown braids hanging by the either sides of her face, school tie too tight and almost reaching the last button of the shirt.

“why the long face?”, jake's interruption breaks heeseung out of his trance, as he takes the much unwanted seat beside him, “96 not enough for ‘ya?”

“oh shut up”, heeseung returns jake’s scoff slamming down his physics answer sheet against the wooden table. both heeseung and jake know it's not enough, whether it's a 96 or a 99 ’cause,

“it's never enough unless i cross y/n’s marks”, heeseung sighs, the answer sheet dampening under the pressure of his sweaty hands, as his forehead became the victim of the other.

everyone in the class is aware of the cutthroat competition and abhorrence between the two brunettes, already expecting the usual bickering episode between the two whenever it was time for exam results, and even if by chance someone got the same results as any one of them, they'd do their best and not bother the two.

but today is different, today heeseung doesn't find his usual energy to bicker with the braided girl sitting at the back of the class, not when she managed to beat him thrice in a row at his own game!

“last time it was a marks’ difference and now three? how is this even possible?”, heeseung groans while flipping the sheets over and over as if something magical would happen and increase his numbers.

“i heard park sunghoon's been studying chemistry with her,” jake sighs, pushing his fingers through his dark hair as he turns his head to the side, but his eyes steal a glance at heeseung, and he smirks, “‘ya know, the chemistry toppe—”

“yeah yeah i got you jake, i know who he is”, heeseung presses the bridge of his nose a bit too hard, the familiar face of the boy floating up to his vision, though he can't remember where his loved moles are on him. oh how all the girls are head over heels for park sunghoon.

is y/n one of them too? he could swear they're hanging out too much.

stupid thought, stupid stupid thought. heeseung winces at his sudden curiosity, why is giving this matter so much thought? he doesn't like y/n anyway, he doesn't like her bickering, he doesn't like her annoying attitude, he doesn't like her hair, he doesn't like her scent and he definitely doesn't like her smile. so lee heeseung shouldn't really get his head messed up in this.

the school bell rings, bringing out new tedious groans and sighs from the students as they dawdle to their next classes.

“i think she's coming here—”

“don't you have a physics class to be at, jake?”

“yeah yeah shoo me away all you want to”, jake scoffs, a smirk playing at his lips when he slings a bag on his shoulder before leaving the class, “bet you can't shoo away her.”

and before heeseung even knew it the class was empty, except him and as empty, dispersed out in the crowded hallways to their next classes. that is unless the previous dulcet but annoying voice came closer to heeseung.

“heeseung!”, you chirp, approaching him from behind, “how was your paper?”

“ugh what do you—”, heeseung's anger dies down when he turns around to face you, your hair's not done into braids today, instead it's let open with your tie loose this time, a few drops of sweat sticking to your forehead, dance practice maybe? “—w-want?”

“your marks of course,” you giggle at his stutter, taking a seat beside him, “wanna make sure if i beat you or nah.”

“yeah you did, but not on your own huh?”, heeseung scoffs, looking down at you. he realises his heart skips a beat when you tilt your head to the side, holding eye contact.

not good.

“huh? what do you mean heeseung?”, you pout, acting ever so confused by his accusation, “not on my own?”

“oh come on, the whole class knows it now”, heeseung rolls his eyes, “park sunghoon, rings any bell?”

“oh hoon?”, you grin, covering your mouth and suppressing a small giggle, “he did help me a lot with chemistry, he's so sweet!”

heeseung doesn't realise his face is getting hotter and redder by the minute, both by your presence and the pronunciation of somebody else's name. he has a nickname already? hoon? no way, you have only ever interacted with him, whether it was bickering or asking for notes or silently sitting beside each other. so how did this other guy pop up?

“hoon,” heeseung mumbles his nickname, his eyes searching for something in yours and he doesn't even notice he's sounding jealous, “how are you guys so close already…”

“well he's been tutoring me chemistry for a month now—”

“a month?!”, heeseung's brows lift up and his jaw hangs open.

heeseung doesn't know if he likes your new look, the way the curls of your hair rests on your shoulders, the way your tie is loose from your neck and the way your head tilts to look at his, heeseung's heart skips a beat and it knows something is wrong.

“why? is something—” your lips fall apart, a soft blush takes place on your cheeks and you giggle again, in a teasing tone you nudge heeseung's arm, “aww are you jealous?”

“what? don't be ridiculous now.”

“heeseung is jealous, you are jealous, you are jealous j-e-a-l-o-u-s”, you continue this song, nudging heeseung and teasing him more and more, causing his cheeks to heat up, eyes turning back to the open window and then back to yours.

“shut up y/n, you're not funny”, he scowls, the soft breeze enters the empty classrooms and hits the both of you like a refreshing wave.

and in that moment, through your teasing manner, the empty classroom, the echoes of your laughter and the soft breeze caressing your hair, your long dark hair that matched his and the way his heart skipped a beat, the way his heart always skipped a beat while you were around, he realises it's something good.

“if you shut up now i swear y/n”, heeseung tried and kept his best ‘angry at you’ acting.

“oh really? then why don't you make me?”, a soft chuckle leaves your lips and you squint your eyes.

it happens all so fast, heeseungs soft lips on yours, falling right into place. it tickles you a bit like feathers and pulls you in, until you realise that's his hand snaking around your waist. the kiss was delicate, caring and brought so much warmth from a person you only argued with.

you gasp for air, first one to pull back.

you meet his eyes, scurrying through yours and cheeks all red, probably embarrassed of what he did. the kiss quickly coloured your cheeks, a shy smile playing around your lips and a small glint in your eyes.

“i-i don't know what i did—”

“its okay heeseung”, you shush a nervous heeseung, the proximity increasing the pace of your hearts, “do you like me?”

“i love you”, heeseung answers almost instantly, “i love everything about you.”

“me too”, heeseung is the most relieved as he hears this, that hoon guy got nothing on him now. he's the winner.

“so, are we gonna date then?”, he chuckles.

you nod, “let's surprise the class together!”

lee heeseung doesn't know what he wanted when he got his answer sheets. better marks than y/n, a bickering episode with her, or maybe her to fall in love with her? he doesn't know.

a smirk falls upon his lips and he pulls you closer by your waist. he looked ever so magical and beautiful up close, that you wish the bickering had died down earlier.

“whatever you say, pretty girl”, he leans in for a second kiss, indulging himself more into you, he swears his heart will beat out of the chest as soon as his free hand makes contact with your dark strands of hair.

outside the class stands a grinning jake with a bored sunghoon, and a quite high five is shared between the two, carefully peeking inside.

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soamericn · 2 months

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𝜗𝜚 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ ‘ one night he wakes strange look on his face pauses, then says you're my best friend and you knew what it was he is in love ‘

𝜗𝜚… summary , ( f!yn x oscar piastri ) oscar piastri is head over heels for his best friend, though he keeps his feelings a secret. he wins his first race in f1 and after seeing her cheering him on in the crowd he can’t hide his affections any longer.

𝜗𝜚… type , irl

𝜗𝜚… faceclaim , up to your imagination <3

𝜗𝜚… triggers , there is none

𝜗𝜚… authors note , my first f1 one shot! I'm really proud ngl and it's as cute as I was hoping! hope ya'll enjoy!

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ masterlist ( intro post )

all he could hear was his heartbeat in his helmet; it flooded his ears like static on a radio. After getting out of the car without a thought in his head, he stepped onto the car in front of the halo putting both of his arms into the air.

Adrenaline flooded his senses, his colorful helmet shined under the night race lights. The cheers were overwhelmingly loud as each voice blended together into the sea of people.

Subconsciously so, his ears searched for one voice in particular, one that was soft and comforting. The one he’d share a laugh with until three in morning. Or would tease him inexplicably. But the voice was stirred in with the rest.

Oscar stepped down from the car, and the first thing he did was run into the ocean of papaya. Many hands covered him, patting his back or helmet hearing many compliments on his win. After a minute or so of drowning himself in the praise and affection from his team he stepped away removing his helmet and placing it on a pedestal.

He ran a hand through his damp hair, it staying in place as he did so. A hand landed on his shoulder and he turned, seeing a man in a matching suit who pulled him into a hug. “Mate you did great.” He complimented, his voice directly in his ear.

The Australian didn’t realize how truly speechless he was until someone directly spoke to him. The words formed in his throat but never made it out of his mouth.

Lando pulled away with a light two taps on his back. “Thanks, maybe not pelting me with champagne could be a good job present.” Oscar jokes.

The Brit lets out a small laugh and shakes his head, “Oh c'mon you need the full podium experience-” Oscar’s attention on Lando was cut off, the voice.

The one he’d scanned for, moments before the voice had made itself known. She shouted his name from behind the short fence with the rest of the crowd desperately trying to get the man she’d known for most of her life’s attention. Oscar’s eyes searched the crowd, until they found her, he could’ve picked her out in any crowd his entire being always seemed drawn to her.

“Oscar!” His best friend. The only one he’s ever really known. Always supporting him, even today adorning herself in all papaya wearing a jersey he’d known for a fact had a huge eighty-one on the back (and might’ve been stolen from his closet), all for him.

Oscar rushed over, as soon as he’d spotted her after the race, he just knew he needed her in the moment. The calm, composedness of his being suddenly dissolved into the smokey air. Still with a small fence between them he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her into a tight hug. Her arms naturally floated around his neck, they fit together perfectly like two puzzle pieces made just for one another. Camera flashes flooded their sudden embrace, and he lightly lifted her into the air as he tightened their hold on one another. They could’ve done the whole podium ceremony, everyone could have gone home and Oscar would’ve stayed here with his arms around her always.

“You did so well today.” Her voice was soft, the words only meant for him. She only wanted him to know how proud she was of him. How much her heart raced as he crossed the checkered flag, and how much support she’d carried with her for him through everything.

His impulsiveness took over as soon as he heard her speak, he wasn’t thinking about anything in that moment, not the cameras, the thousands of people that surrounded the pair, and certainly not the feelings he carried for her for many years; the feelings he kept deep down for too long, way too long. He only thought of her, the way her soft voice tickled against his skin and the flush it brought to his already red cheeks.

Placing a delicate but firm hand on her cheek which she covered with her own hand, her cheeks turning a light and kind shade of pink and a gentle smile formed from her lips. The lips Oscar just happened to notice how pink and heart shaped they’d been and how soft they looked compared to his own chapped ones.

Oscar slightly looked down and she’d looked up at him, her eyes seemed as if they were looking into him, as if she could’ve read his thoughts. Standing like this for a second, there was a moment where the Australian had contemplated, was he going to possibly ruin a friendship over his own feelings? Before he could even think about not doing it, her eyelashes fluttered warm and innocent and he filled the gap between them.

They were perfectly made for one another. They moved in sync, and she’d tasted of an orange mocktail and strawberry chapstick and everything that's made her, her. His thumb lightly stroked her cheek, and his arm snaked around her waist holding her tightly.

Both her arms ended up around his neck, smiling sweetly into the kiss and giggled lightly into the Aussies mouth. Not hearing the reactions from the crowd surrounding them.

When Oscar pulled away they’d both missed the warmth and comfort of one another. But realization hit him like a tidal wave, remembering all of his actions so clearly except for how her arms fit so perfectly around him, and the way she’d smiled at his affections.

His hand removed itself from her waist and mind started to race and he pictured missed calls, a missing eighty-one jersey in the crowd, losing the praise of a voice that motivated him to be better. He’d completely zoned out at this point and she’d used her hand placing it back on his freckled cheek and directing him to look at her. Of course she’d know what he was thinking.

She always did.

She’d looked up at him, a small glint in her eyes, that made Oscar wanna kiss her all over again but he held back, fear filling his chest so tightly he’d felt like he’d choke on it. He’d race cars at 300km/h without as much fear as he felt now.

Placing a hand on his other cheek, she stood on her tippy toes reaching his lips giving them a light peck. Her way of saying everything was gonna be okay. His cheeks flushed a deep shade of red and his arms comfortably made its way back around her waist and his hand slid up her back.

She looked up at him, anticipating him to make a move. Though she was impatient, she pulled his racing suit collar down and her lips landed on his once again. He gasped in between his lips, a small surprise of her sudden affection.

“I think I’ve always loved you.” He whispered into her mouth in between kisses, her heart shaped lips formed in a smile against his.

She pulled away, lightly biting his bottom lip, “you think I didn’t?” She grinned a light giggle leaving her lips.

It was like a candle had been relit in Oscar’s head, a candle that flamed only for her. A flame that reminded him how much he needed her, how much he’d been needing her. His arms tightened around her almost possessively so, he reveled in the taste and feeling of her, and how she finally knew that most of him was hers.

𝜗𝜚… tags , @whitcferrari @miguelasdr @lcvelctters @cedarbcws

#𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪₊˚ soamericns works!#friends to lovers is everything to me #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris #f1 fic #formula one fic #formula one fanfiction

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exhaslo · 6 months

Note

CAN YOU MAKE LIKE A SUB SHY READER X NERD DOM MIGUEL? LIKE READER IS LIKE QUEEN BEE BUT LIKE IS THE SHY AND QUIET POPULAR GIRL AND MIGUEL IS THE HOT NERD AND LIKE THEY ARE HANGING OUT AND THEY START TO GET ALL TOUCHY AND READER HETS ALL SHY AND FLUSTERED AND STARTS GRINDING HER PRINCESS PART ON HIS THIGHS AND LIKE SHE IS A SQUIRTER NOT LIKE CUMMING AND SHE GETS EMBARRASSED BY THAT AND MIGUEL BABIES HER AND STARTS FUCKING HER ROUGH BUT NOT TELLING HER DEGRADING NAMES LIKE SLUT OR NONE OF THAT, HE CALLS HER HIS BABY AND ALL THOSE CUTE NAMES AND HE STARTS GIVING HER AFTERCARE AND BEING ALL FLUFFY AND SFW AND SHE REVEALS TO HIM THAT SHE IS A LITTLE<333?

Sorry I took so long! I was in New Orleans for the weekend! I'm all fueled up for writing now! Haha!

Summary: Your casual study group turns into something a little out of hand~

Warning: Minors DNI, fluff, smut, dry humping, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya'll), aftercare, squirting

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

You were the life of the party. Everyone loved you and everyone wanted you to come to their party, gathering, anything. As long as you were there, there was life. You were practically the Queen Bee of the campus. Your beauty and personality shined bright. Everyone wanted to be you and everyone wanted to be with you.

Including Miguel.

Miguel was not shy himself from being popular. He was a hunk at the college and the smartest person there. Everyone wanted a chance with him. Everyone wanted him to help with their homework. The sexiest nerd whom everyone wanted a taste of.

Including you.

So, when word got out that a neutral friend had the two of you coming to their study group, everyone wanted in. This was no longer a study group, this had turned into a full fledge party. You could feel the sweat roll down your neck as you smiled towards your friends and strangers alike. Everyone trying to talk to you. Everyone trying to get your attention.

"Oh! Of course, um...Would you excuse me?" You laughed softly before escaping through the back door, "Jeez,"

"Escaped?" Miguel said with a soft chuckle. You jumped slightly,

"Y-Yes. I got cornered the moment I blinked."

"Awe, poor baby," Miguel teased as he drew closer to you, "Don't like being hovered over?"

You felt your cheeks burn as Miguel stood beside you. He was a freaking giant. You tried to say something, but only a stutter came out. Miguel smelled so good. Whatever cologne he was wearing was making you get closer to him. You squeaked lowly as Miguel fixed your hair, his fingers grazing your cheek,

"Hm? What's this? The most popular girl on campus is shy around men?" Miguel said almost cruelly.

"S-So...So what if I am?"

"Well, can't have that. Those vultures will eat you alive,"

"T-Then...Then help me practice," You muttered ever so lowly, believing that he could not hear you. Miguel's ears perked up as a casual smirk formed against his lips,

"How bold."

You gasped lowly as Miguel pulled your by the wrist. He looked around and took you inside the shed that was in the backyard. You could only feel your heart race as he cleared a space and sat down, patting his lap so casually. You were nervous, but excited. Miguel was the man of your dreams and he here was hiding with you.

"C'mon, can't be shy now." He hummed. You followed his order, sitting on his lap, "Good girl."

A shiver ran down your spine as he complemented you. You weren't sure if it was the liquor in your hand, but you drew closer to him. Miguel took notice and placed his finger against your lip,

"If my baby girl wants a kiss, you gotta earn it."

"E-Earn it?" You stuttered. Miguel played with the rim of your skirt,

"It's okay, baby. We're finally alone." Miguel stroked your cheek, watching you tremble from his touch, "I've been wanting this as much as you have. Who would have thought that you would be this shy?"

"I-It's not a...problem, right?" You asked.

"Course not, baby."

You couldn't help but smile. You wanted to kiss him, but he repeated once more about earning that kiss. You gave a small pout, wondering what he wanted. You bit your lower lip as Miguel started to rub circles around your waist. Subconsciously, you started to grind your hips against his thigh. Miguel's smirk only grew as you started to get into it,

"That's my baby girl," He cooed softly, "Keep going."

You whimpered low moans as the fabric of your panties and his jeans kept rubbing against your clit. Miguel hummed lowly as he finally kissed you, his fingers aiding your efforts. You gasped into the kiss, moaning lowly as he laid you down. You skirt was lifted upwards as his fingers rubbed circles around your clit.

"M-Mig-Miguel~!" You cried out.

Miguel licked his lips as you squirted against his hand and your panties. His eyes sparkled as you kept apologizing. You tried to cover your face from embarrassment, but Miguel moved your hands. He captured your lips again as he undid his pants,

"How cute. Don't be sorry, baby," He groaned as he removed your panties, "This just means that your body wants me."

"Mig-"

"Shhh, it's going to be okay, bunny. You just lemme know when to stop and I'll stop. Can't have my sweet girl cry on me,"

You felt your hear flutter towards his words. Agreeing, you spread your legs for him, awaiting for him to sweep you away. Miguel kissed your neck as he pressed his tip against your entrance. He whispered sweet nothingness in your ear,

"I'll take good care of you, baby."

--------

"How does my dick feel inside your tight hole? Does my little shy girl like being fucked like a bunny in heat?"

Miguel had you on your knees, face pressed against the floorboards of the shed as he pounded your pussy roughly. He had been ravishing your throbbing hole for only five minutes and you were on the verge of losing your mind. You were a moaning mess as Miguel slapped your ass while his thick cock bruised your cervix with each thrust.

"What happened to my shy little bunny? You're being so loud now, everyone is going to hear you. Want them to know that this pussy belongs to me, baby? Huh? Is that what you want?" Miguel asked.

"Mhm~ Y-Yes!" You cried out, gasping as he slapped himself inside you rougher, "M-Miguel!"

"That's right, cum for me, baby."

Miguel groaned lowly as your pussy sucked him in more as you squirted around his cock. That beautiful white ring that formed around his dick was a sight to see. Not giving you a chance to rest, Miguel went to chase his own high. With a low, rumbling grunt, Miguel shoved himself deep, filling your womb.

You whimpered, shaking from the feeling. Miguel took a moment to catch his breathe before pulling out and fixing his clothes. He grabbed your panties, stuffing them in his pocket before fixing your skirt and picking you up. He checked outside the side, sighing in relief since everyone was still inside.

"Let me take you home. Can't leave my girl like this, can I?" He hummed.

You nuzzled your head against his chest, quietly agreeing with him. Once Miguel arrived at his apartment, he took you into the shower with him. He made sure to carefully wash each part of your body, enjoying your reaction and expressions. You were putty in the palm of his hands.

"Miguel?" You hummed lowly as he dried you.

"Yes?"

"I think we should have more...private lessons together...Y-You know...T-To help me..." You stuttered, ignoring his smirk. Miguel pecked your lips, moving your hands away,

"You didn't have to ask."

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

Waaaaaaaa, I hope you liked it! Sorry I was so late with this response again!!!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 months

Note

OKAY HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT.

Grandma cat!reader. Who was a old women who got experimented on and turned into a smiling critter but like the caretaker of the smiling critters.

Often seen walking around with a scruffed smiling critter hanging from her mouth(somehow-) and overfeeding the smiling critters or children.

How would a saved dogday and (maybe) good catnap react to the player bringing them to readers containment room. (She was locked in before the Hour of Joy due to something and just stayed there)?

I just want to see them get some sort of parental love 🥹😖

- Marshmellow🤍

I swear ya'll are gonna make me cry with these requests /nm <3

.....

Dogday

In your old age, you didn't wanna retire from Playtime Co. and spend the remainder of your life laying around, waiting for your body and mind to deteriorate.

So instead you became one of the few willing volunteers for the Bigger Bodies Initiative, being turned into a Smiling Critter (which made you especially happy since your grandkids adored the toyline and cartoon show).

In the show, the gang mentioned a grandma character several times (albeit she was unseen) and with Catnap being recalled from all promo materials, Playtime Co. took creative liberties and made you the newest feline replacement, fitted with a cinnamon scent and pie necklace.

Your tagline was something like "The Smiling Critters take care of our orphans, but who takes care of them? Why, their Grandma [Y/n], of course! She's full of love and wisdom!"

True to that, you became the caretaker of the Critters and children, ensuring everyone's fed well and staying out of trouble.

The incident with Bron (Thomas/Experiment 1199) had scientists rethinking how they'd introduce willing experiments to those...well..less-than-willing.

So you had a supervised introduction to the SCs (with children also present to discourage them from reacting violently). You were even given a containment cell you could retreat to in case of emergencies.

Luckily, you never had to use that room--as they accepted you and began calling you "grandma" since day one.

Dogday, especially, got attached to you.

You called him "DD" and "Doggy-Dearie".

Being a bit taller than the rest of them allows you to pick them up by the scuff of their necks if they're being too rowdy (Kickin and Hoppy, especially).

Even so, you're very sweet to all of them, letting them snuggle up to you as you shared stories and made them food so they could keep up with the little ones.

All was well in the Playhouse up until the Hour of Joy of course.

But you were unaware of it since Catnap sabotaged your room's lock, keeping you trapped to lower the Smiling Critters' morale.

Dogday was 100% convinced you were dead.

However you survived long enough for the Employee's arrival years later, never knowing what happened to the factory..

After rescuing Dogday, they find your door and powered it up, allowing the two entry into the perfectly intact space within.

Your fur was matted and you looked sickly, but you still jump up upon seeing the state your dear "grandson" was in.

It devastated you.

"My word..Dog-Dearie.." Your heart shatters. "Your legs..where are they? Where is everyone?"

Something inside of him ultimately breaks as he realizes you were alive...and you were here all along.

"G-Grandma...! Oh...god..I-I thought you were--" He crawls away from the Employee and towards you, sobbing into your lap. "You were h-here..this whole time! I-I wanted to see you, but..C-Catnap..he.."

"Shh, shhh..I'm here now, my sweet pup. It's alright." You hush, stroking his ears and resting a paw on his back, before looking to the Employee. "You must be terribly confused..as am I.."

After explaining your role--and calming Dogday down--the two tell you about what's happened to the factory, and at first you can't believe it...

Until you all wander through the Playhouse and see the horrid state it's in, but they're confused as to why none of the mini Critters attack you.

Only then do you mention feeding them over the years through little vents and holes in the walls, keeping their hunger moderately satiated.

Dogday feels awful, and even more upset at Catnap for lying about your fate.

But still, you don't show any ill-will towards any of the Smiling Critters, even if one of them had betrayed you all.

Instead you just let Dogday cling to you as you escape together and try your best to keep up.

Catnap

Like the rest of the Smiling Critters, Catnap considered you family and often went to you for snacks and such.

Or if he needs a break from trying to put all the rowdy orphans to bed in Home Sweet Home. Only then is he given permission to see you.

He always liked curling up in your lap, purring while you stroke his fur and tell him a story (which is sometimes an event from your old human life, albeit you do accidentally confuse yourself since ofc you're not supposed to remember any details of your old life).

The Prototype sees this as a problem, as Theodore Catnap was getting a bit too comfortable with his life here and needed a reminder of his mission....and so he tells him the truth.

About how you not only worked at the factory until you reached retirement age...but you were also a willing participant in the experiments.

And suddenly, he couldn't look at you the same way anymore. Only with resentment.

It wasn't fair.

You got to lead a long and fulfilling life. Theodore barely got the chance to grow up and be a normal kid.

You had the procedure and associated risks explained to you clear as day. Theodore never had the luxury of being warned ahead of time before he was grabbed and put under the knife after recovering from the incident with the green grabpack hand.

All he wanted was to free the others, but he ended up becoming their warden instead.

He almost forgot all of that because of you.

He refuses your food now, and you worry for him when you see how skinny he becomes as the months pass.

But he's very cryptic in the way he talks to you, the other SCs, and the staff...so you didn't know for sure what you did to upset him so much.

"Catnap, dearie..you're skin and bones. Let me-"

"I know what you were, and what you've become...the Prototype told me so."

You don't know what to say. What could you say when he kept talking about this "Prototype" person?

Despite his hatred, the SCs were conditioned to love you regardless, and so before the Hour of Joy Catnap decided to sabotage the locks of your containment room.

That way, he wouldn't be tempted to kill you...and he'd spare you from the grief of what he ends up doing to the other SCs, including Dogday.

Years later, when the Employee finally knocks some sense into him after saving him from being sacrificed to the Prototype, he takes them to your room, believing you to be dead from starvation.

Instead, though, they break you out and he discovers you're very much alive.

And Catnap just breaks down, groveling and begging for your forgiveness.

You were the one who always tried to reach out and comfort him, giving him some relief from the misery of being trapped in this factory....and he pushed you away.

But you don't hate him for locking you up, realizing that he still cared about you after all this time. Even when the Prototype told him about your past.

He wanted to keep you safe.

That alone proves he had a heart, and you reassure him of that as he cuddles up to you for a little while.

Once he's calmer, you go with him, Dogday (assuming he was saved), and the Employee to meet with Poppy and Kissy--both of whom are relieved to see you alive

#clanask #marshmallow anon #poppy playtime x reader #ppt x reader #catnap #dogday #catnap x reader #dogday x reader #platonic #grandma reader #toy reader #headcanons #hurt/comfort

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vivid-ink · 7 months

Text

Kinktober #1 - Handjob "Mission Accomplished"

fem!HumanReader x Neteyam or Lo'ak (you pick! 😉)

Summary: You've been asked to fill in for Norm on one of his Na'vi patient observations, except this isn't any old observation appointment... You need to collect a semen sample and the appointment doesn't go at all to professional plan...

Warnings: 🔞 Sexual content 18+, MDNI 🔞 Word count: 4.6k

Author's Note: Happy Kinktober everyone! 😁 I'm late with this prompt as it was completely unplanned. I got inspired late last night after posting Part 4 of 'The Love Shack' and this is what my brain spat out! As usual, my inability to write short drabbles means that what was meant to be a short, sweet kink-scene turned out to be 4.6k. I've not used any names in this piece, so you're free to imagine either Neteyam or Lo'ak as the male lead in this. Enjoy the spice ya'll!

Tagging some mooties who may be interested (no pressure though): @pandoraslxna @blue-slxt @adrianarose7 @vintaqestar @eyweveng @qcswrites @daeneeryss @oasiswithmyg @delacruzyari @teymars @neteluvr @sulieykte @teyamsatan

And OMG (I feel absolutely rotten for overlooking this until now) - Thank you to the incredible @cinetrix for her render of Neteyam which I've used in the story cover.

You swallowed tightly as Dr Blaise briefed you around the purpose of today’s observation and what was required of you. Your heart was galloping in your chest and you could feel yourself breaking out into a nervous sweat. It amazed you how unconcerned and unaffected she was about the whole thing.

“It’s a simple observation. We’re looking for any key physical differences in appearance, as well as any differences in physiological function.” Dr Blaise stated casually, “No swabs or bloods needed today. Just some notes, photos, and a semen sample. There are sample collection jars in the consultation bay already.”

A semen sample… Good Lord, she said that with all the nonchalance of someone asking for a saliva sample. Though you figured that’s what medical professionalism was all about, right? No awkwardness, no emotion, just plain science and fact.

When Dr Norm Spellman had said that he was writing a book about Pandoran Biology and Na’vi Physiology, you’d jumped at the opportunity to be involved. After all, Pandora was your home. It was the only home you’d ever known. As one of the only two human babies to be born on Pandora, you and Spider were the only generation of humans who’d never known the dying mother planet Earth.

Unlike Spider though who had taken to life on Pandora like a duckling to water, scaling trees, swinging from branches and pretty much adopting himself into the Omatikaya clan, you weren’t anywhere near as outgoing. You’d stuck to the medical labs and the avatar camp for majority of your life, rarely venturing out into the wilderness except to accompany the other scientists on their excursions. Perhaps the only similarity you shared with Spider was that you too were an orphan of war. Your parents had been on the frontlines of the battle between Toruk Makto and the RDA, and they’d met their maker on that fateful day.

You were just an intern currently, but the older staff and scientists were more than willing to teach you. Doing lab observations, drawing blood and other lab technician work was your job, so this morning’s appointment shouldn’t have been any different. And yet it was.

You’d never had to collect a semen sample before.

“Patient is a young unmated male, 23 years of age. Fit. Occupation is hunter-warrior. No pre-existing medical conditions and no recent injuries.” Dr Blaise rationally, handing you the clipboard and pen, “The patient has also been briefed about this appointment, so he knows what to expect and he’s aware he needs to produce a sample.”

“Right, understood.” You mumbled and the words were slightly hoarse. You cleared your throat, dislodging the sticky lump of uneasiness there.

Sensing your discomfort, Dr Blaise placed a heartening hand on your shoulder. Her eyes were kind and the crows’ feet at their corners crinkled as she smiled, “Look, the patient is friendly with the team, one of Jake Sully’s sons actually. So you needn’t worry about any hostility. You’ve done numerous observations and collected all sorts of samples. This is no different. It’s only awkward if you’re awkward. Besides, I’m sure you can understand why Dr Spellman didn’t want to conduct this particular observation himself, what with them being family friends and all.”

A giggle and snort left you at the humorous thought and you found you had to agree. Dr Blaise chuckled alongside you. It would definitely be ten times more awkward if the patient and medical professional were familiar with each other during this observation.

The fleeting moment of hilarity eased the nervous roil in your belly. Tucking your pen into the breast pocket of your lab coat, you took a deep breath and nodded, “Ok, I’ve got this. Thanks Dr Blaise.”

With two thumbs up and a wink, Dr Blaise turned and left you to depart down the corridor, her black pump heels clicking neatly across the hard floor.

Turning to the wall, you grabbed an exopack kit and hooked it to the leather belt around your hips. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you positioned the mask over your face and returned to the doorway that led into the consultation bay. The doorway was tall, much taller than you were used to. All the consultation bays were built big enough with high enough ceilings to accommodate the Na’vi and the avatars. While the main ventilation in the compound was suited to human lungs, the consultation bays were fitted with ventilation to suit their Pandoran patients. Scanning your ID card on the panel of blinking lights on your right, the door slid open with a hiss and you stepped into the bay.

The first thing that always hit you when you entered any of the consultation bays was the sterile scent of it. After a couple of years working here you’d think you’d have got used to it, but every single time the smell was like a synthetic slap to your senses. You wrinkled your nose in distaste. Everything smelled so chemical; too clean and too artificial. It was no wonder the Na’vi didn’t like being in here. If the smell was strong to your human nose, you could only imagine how much more potent it was to their heightened senses.

The second thing to hit you this morning was the sight of the magnificent creature that was standing in the corner of the bay, peering at the various medical models, instruments and books in the wall-mounted glass cabinet. He’d been facing away from you at first, but the sound of your footsteps had caught his attention and he turned to face you then.

A genial smile stretched across his face and he greeted you in a voice that was deep and warm, “Good morning, doctor.”

His use of English surprised you and while his words were accented, his pronunciation was clear. Go figure that Jake Sully would’ve taught his children to speak his mother tongue.

You gave a clumsy laugh and you were quick to correct your patient, “Oh, I’m not a doctor. I’m just an intern. I’m just filling in for Dr Spellman for this observation.”

Your patient grinned toothily at you and gave a nod of his head in acknowledgement, although his tone was teasing when he replied, “Alright Dr ‘Just-An-Intern’, where would you like me?”

You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up from your throat at his playful demeanour. You smiled at him. He was charming this one, handsome too. Like all Na’vi, he towered well above you in height at approximately nine and a half feet. Though you noted that he was very well-built. Courtesy of being a warrior, you supposed. Yes, he was muscular in all the places you appreciated in a male… You silently reprimanded yourself for your unprofessional thoughts.

“Just take a seat on that gurney for me.” You replied, gesturing towards the make-shift bed against the wall. Retrieving your pen, you began to scan through the notes at the top of the form on the clipboard, double-checking the patient’s details and ensuring everything on it was as it should be.

“Ah, do you want me to take my tewng (loincloth) off?”

Suddenly remembering the aim of the observation again, you felt hot blood rush to your cheeks and ears in embarrassment, “Umm, yes please.” And in a bid to stop your embarrassment running away with your courage, you launched into a rambling outline of the appointment agenda, “Today’s appointment is an observation around Na’vi male genitalia and sexual function. I’m going to need to make some notes and take some photographs of you, both in a r-relaxed and a-aroused state, and I’m going to need to collect a s-semen sample. If you feel uncomfortable at any point…”

He watched you attentively as you babbled onward, the smooth skin of your face and neck taking on a ruddy and flushed hue. He smiled to himself. You were shy and today’s agenda clearly made you uneasy. He felt a twinge of empathy for you. His father had told him that humans were private about matters of the body, especially where it came to sex and pleasure. The Na’vi held no such restraints; sexual freedom was celebrated.

He’d already removed his tewng and had perched himself on the gurney as instructed, unbothered and uncaring of his own nakedness. He was quietly enjoying your discomfort, but not in a rude or condescending manner. He actually found your unease rather endearing.

“Any questions?” Your prattling came to a finish and you took a deep inhale as if you’d squeezed every last ounce of oxygen out of your lungs rushing to finish your speech without taking another breath.

He graced you with another charming smile, “No. You may proceed.”

Willing yourself to get a grip, you walked on slightly shaky legs to the desk in the corner and plucked the glass tablet from its stand and returned to place it on the end of the gurney. You kept your eyes lowered to your clipboard, filling in the date and the time. You could see the striped cobalt of his muscular legs in your peripheral vision where he sat with his shins dangling off the gurney. For the meantime, you dared not glance any higher than his thighs…

Your eyes moved to a set of highlighted bullet points in the middle of the page that indicated questions the patient had to be asked.

You read the first question aloud, its meaning registering simultaneously in your brain as the words left your lips, “When was the last time you ejaculated?”

You fought the mortification that threatened to consume you and your mind struck up a chant of ‘stay professional, stay professional’ in your head.

“Yesterday morning.” His answer was composed.

“And was that with a partner or was it self-stimulated?” Fuck, maybe you should’ve read the questions before coming in for the observation…

“It was self-stimulated.”

“And do you have a preference for male partners, female partners, or both?”

“Female. Definitely female.”

His voice was a smooth, velvety rumble. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something in his tone stroked over you like an invisible caress that made something clench in your lower belly. You scribbled his answers on the page in a messy scrawl that had more to do with your nerves than your actual style of handwriting.

He continued to observe you as you worked. Your knuckles were pale where your left hand gripped hold of the clipboard and you were so focused, almost concentrating too hard on what you were writing. Nose twitching quietly, he parted his lips and scented the air around. The artificial smell of the bay was unpleasant, but a sweeter and much more appealing smell was filling the vicinity now. Your scent.

The blush on your skin remained and he was sure that if he reached out to touch you that your skin would be hot to the touch where your blood had rushed to the surface. He could smell hints of your perspiration and he could also detect a musky and moist feminine undertone. You were attracted to him… His masculine pride delighted in the realisation. Despite your human form, he found you attractive too.

Finishing up your notes, you settled the clipboard down on the gurney and mentally prepared yourself for the ‘looking’ part of the observation.

Eyes still glued to the brown leather of the gurney’s mattress, you declared your next action, “Alright, just stay relaxed for me with your thighs slightly parted. I’m going to begin the physical part of the observation now.”

“Sure.”

Your gaze travelled from the beautiful stripes on his outer thighs inward to the slightly paler blue of his inner thighs and finally, up to his groin. Suddenly, you didn’t understand why you were so nervous about this. He looked fairly… normal? Apart from the general larger size of everything and the blue hue of his skin, everything was as expected. Feeling a little braver now, you grabbed the glass tablet and took a couple of photos and then set it down to return to your clipboard.

“Is everything the same?” He asked out of the blue, “Same as with human males, I mean.”

You looked to his face instinctively and found his amber eyes trained on you, “Ah yes, more or less. Penis, foreskin, testes; everything expected is there and I haven’t noted any real differences in physiology apart from the lack of hair, but that’s consistent with the lack of body hair all Na’vi have apart from on your heads and tail tufts.”

Following the words down the clipboard sheet you came to a section that was titled ‘Texture and Sensitivity’. You paused. How the fuck were you supposed to assess those? The section didn’t have any required questions or sample questions to help you, and no suggestions either, just a space for you to jot down your notes. You looked from your patient’s body and then to his face, and when he gave you a small smile, your gaze shot back down to your clipboard sheet in embarrassment. Texture and sensitivity were tactile aspects. You didn’t really understand how you could assess them without touching the patient.

Evidently you were taking too long in your deliberation, because your patient’s voice sounded again with a gentle query, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, sorry. I’m just trying to work out how to assess the next bit.” You apologised sheepishly. You weren’t doing a very good job of appearing collected, you realised.

“What’s the next part?”

“Texture and sensitivity. So, what it feels like and which parts respond the most to touch.” You stated in as even a voice as possible. You huffed out a laugh then and shrugged, “It’s a tricky one because they’re tactile observations and I don’t know how to assess them when you can’t touch the patient.”

“Why can’t you touch the patient?” His response was clearly a surprise to you and he couldn’t suppress his grin as you goggled at him in shock, “You can touch me if it will enable you to do your job.”

You were almost about to say that you couldn’t possibly do that, but you stopped yourself. You were a med-science professional. The patient was consenting and your research required you to perform a physical examination. In a professional capacity, there was no reason you couldn’t touch the patient to achieve the intended outcome of the examination.

You remembered Dr Blaise’s words: It’s only awkward if you make it awkward. Fuck, you needed to swallow a bucket of concrete and toughen up. The sooner you completed this observation, the sooner you would be out of this uncomfortable situation.

Nodding resolutely, you agreed, “Alright, but you will guide me with your own hands. That way I can be assured that you’re only leading me where you’re comfortable to be examined.”

Your patient dipped his head in agreement, the tuft of his tail curling and uncurling charmingly on the gurney next to him. You set your clipboard down and moved to position yourself before him, standing between his knees. You lifted your eyes to his and they locked with his gentle gaze. Tentatively you offered him your hand and he took it, his large palm and long fingers engulfing it easily.

“So first up, texture?” He reminded, and you nodded.

Slowly, he brought your hand to his crotch and settled your hand over the shaft of his cock. It was very warm beneath your palm. Gently, your fingers tested the slightly springy flesh, noting how smooth and silken his skin was. At this closer proximity, you noticed that there was also spattering of bioluminescent freckles on the shaft. You made a mental note of that.

You touched the base of his cock, gingerly feeling around the length of it and you asked, “What’s the sensitivity like here?”

“I can feel it, but it’s not intense or anything. It’s more sensitive up here.” He guided your fingers nearer to the tip and you stifled a small gasp when he assisted you in pushing his foreskin back to reveal the smooth, dark purple head of his cock.

You’d never interacted with a naked man this close, human or Na’vi, and you certainly had never touched one in such an intimate place. Your body was starting to tingle in various places; in very unprofessional places. It was a surreal situation to be in and you found that you felt oddly calmer now than you were a few minutes ago.

Trailing the pads of your fingers over the smooth tip, you found it was moist and a little slippery. Your thumb tested the underside of it, “Sensation?”

A quiet hiss left him and you instinctively attempted to move your hand away, but his hold over your wrist kept it there, “That’s sensitive. That feels good.”

Your heart was still thumping and your cheeks were still warm, but it wasn’t nerves anymore that were causing your reaction. God, his skin was so soft and so warm… Your curiosity was growing now; your innate desire to explore taking hold of you.

You traced the raised rim of his cock head with your thumb and forefinger, watching as your patient emitted a rumbling groan. His hold on your wrist tightened and he began to move your hand over him. You intuitively wrapped your fingers around his cock. You felt entranced almost, caught up in the moment as you unwittingly began to enjoy the feel of him in your grasp.

The hot flesh in your hand was growing, elongating and engorging as the stimulation aroused him. You watched, amazed, as it swelled to its full capacity. The fingers and thumb of your hand could no longer meet each other. The girth of his cock was easily the same width as your forearm and by your approximations, it looked like it had also more than doubled in length from its relaxed state.

The erect shaft had lengthened out of his foreskin and it was a lovely shade of striated blue all over, except for a paler purple underside and head. In its aroused state, you discovered that while it shared structural similarities to a human male’s genitalia, it also possessed other aspects which were very different. The engorged shaft of his cock was ridged all along its length and as your hand smoothed up and down the column of it, you noted that the ridges were firm and palpable against your hand.

It was the most arousing thing you’d ever seen… Those ridges must feel so good inside for the woman…

You didn’t perceive his eyes on you, watching you as you explored his hard flesh. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even cotton on to the fact that he wasn’t even guiding your hand anymore. He could smell you, smell your arousal dampening between your thighs and the sight of your much smaller hand stroking and squeezing his cock was incredibly sexy.

You ran your enclosed hand in one full stroke from the base of cock and up to the head of it, fascinated by the ridged texture of it and the slippery, bulbous tip. However, your patient emitted a hissing intake of breath then and you jumped a little, snapping out of your thoughts.

“S-Sorry! Is that painful?” You stammered, shooting him a slightly apologetic frown.

He shook his head with a husky chuckle, “No, it’s just very sensitive. A lot more than earlier.”

“Where?” You asked, stroking him from tip to base and back up again.

“Everywhere. The ridges and the head especially.” His voice was notably breathier than before and his breaths were coming quicker, shallower and less even.

“That is fascinating.” You muttered, and your other hand joined in on your exploration. You fondled his balls lightly, observing the weightiness of them.

Your patient grunted and he parted his thighs a bit more. He leaned back to brace his weight on his palms behind him. He gave a small roll of his hips, which caused the top half of his cock to push and pull within your grasp. He moaned and the sound shot straight to the apex of your thighs. When you didn’t object, he continued the motion, thrusting lightly into your hands, both of which were now grasping his length one on top of the other.

Clear and viscous pre-ejaculate began to ooze from his tip, increasing in quantity with each roll of his hips. It was so copious that it was beginning to pool on the backs of your palms and drip down towards your wrist. Lord help you… there was nothing professional anymore about what you were doing… Not that your patient appeared to have any objections…

Still completely spellbound by the situation, your curiosity pushed a murmured query past your lips, “Is there always so much pre-ejaculate?”

“Depends. Generally the more aroused a man is, the more he produces.” He replied and when your bashful gaze lifted to meet his, he smirked wickedly.

You were such a pretty little thing to him, your smaller hands trying their best to keep hold of his slick cock. He knew that this was beyond the normal boundaries of the appointment. He knew that while you would’ve been required to touch him to examine him, stroking him off was probably not anywhere on the agenda. He suspected he was supposed to produce the sample on his own, but looking at you now, so enraptured by his body… How could he have resisted? And besides, he knew you were enjoying this as much as he was, your scent told him so.

You tightened your hold on his cock experimentally, squeezing harder. Each time the swollen head of his cock pushed out of your hands to greet you, you swiped your thumb over the oozing slit on its tip. He was panting heavily now, his impressive abdominals bunching and flexing as he continued to thrust his thick cock through your hold. The bioluminescent freckles that dotted his shaft were glimmering brightly and you never thought you’d ever use the word ‘beautiful’ to describe genitalia, but his cock was gorgeous.

All of him was gorgeous, truth be told…

You were attracted to Na’vi men. Ever since you were old enough to notice the opposite sex, you’d been drawn to male Na’vi. After all, you’d grown up on this moon, inhabited by and surrounded by tall, beautiful Na’vi. The humans who surrounded you at the compound and the camp were your family, and they were all much older. There were no men of your own species to look at or be attracted to. Spider was the only one of your generation and he was like your annoying, gross brother. Your attraction to Na’vi men had been an inevitable result really.

So now as you stood in the consultation bay, between the knees of this striking and aroused Na’vi male while he pumped his cock in and out of your hands, you’d never felt more validated and aroused in your life.

Your patient’s fingers were digging into the squeaky brown leather of the gurney now, straining slightly as his hips continued their onslaught. Your hands and wrists were completely drenched, soaking in his thick pre-cum. The slippery mess caused his cock to squelch obscenely as it slipped through your hold. The whole situation was so sensually explicit and you were never more thankful in your life than you were now that there were no CCTV cameras installed in the consultation bays.

You’d be expelled from your chosen profession for patient abuse… Though by the half-lidded, slack-jawed expression of pleasure on his face, he didn’t look much like he was being unwillingly abused…

A string of Na’vi curses left him then, followed by several panted moans. He abruptly pushed off his palms to sit upright and he stuttered, “W-Where is the container?”

A little stunned by his sudden and urgent tone, you stumbled in your own response, “The w-what? Oh, the sample jar?”

Panting heavily through parted lips, he nodded at you and you pointed to the desk on his left. You saw his gaze follow your eyeline and when he caught sight of the plastic collection jars that sat patiently waiting, he let out a hearty guffaw.

He reached for one and deftly flicked the already loosened lid from its mouth, still chuckling away between his huffing breaths, “It’s so small. You ready, doc?”

“For what?” You asked, realising only as the words left you what a dumb response it was as he handed the sample jar to you.

Your patient smiled at you and it was a salacious leer, all narrowed eyes and pointed canines showing, “You’re about to get your sample.”

One of his hands returned to guide yours, wrapping around your one remaining hand where it encircled his stiff cock. The pace of this rocking thrusts increased and he began to exhale with throaty moans that you swore made your own feminine core throb with desire. Gingerly, you held the collection jar up to him, being extra careful not to drop it.

With two more lurching breaths, his abdominal muscles contracted and his back bowed inward, his entire torso going rigid. You felt his cock harden impossibly before it pulsed and the breath he was holding left him in a coarse growl while his face twisted into an almost pained expression. His cock pulsed again and the first spurt of ejaculate missed the sample jar entirely, landing with a warm splat in the middle of your chest where the frills of your blue blouse peeked out from behind your lab coat. Quickly, his free hand grabbed hold of yours to position the jar better, while his other hand attempted to position his cock so he could shoot straight into it.

He was absolutely breathtaking in the midst of his orgasm. The luminous freckles on his face were twinkling and the striped cobalt skin of his neck and chest was glossy with a sheen of sweat. His cock continued to throb and pulse, emitting rope after rope of thick cum that splattered untidily over the mouth and sides of the sample jar.

You could see why he’d laughed at the size of it. There was no way the small jar could have held the full volume of what he was producing.

Coming down now off the high of his climax, your patient slouched against the wall behind the gurney, breathing hard. He caught your eye and he grinned indolently at you.

The adrenalin and heightened arousal in the atmosphere was fading rapidly now, and cold, hard reality was slowly returning to you. You looked at the pearlescent contents of the sample jar, which was still decently full despite majority of the sample not making it in there. You smiled to yourself.

Mission accomplished and what an exciting mission it was…

Carefully setting the jar down on the flat worktop of the metal sink next to you, you replaced the lid on it with sticky fingers and made a note to thoroughly wipe the jar down later before handing it to the lab techs.

Returning your attention to your patient, you smiled at him, suddenly shy again, “Thank you for your co-operation today. I’ll leave you to clean and freshen up. You can see yourself out after.”

His answering laugh was husky and he dipped his head at you, “I should be thanking you for your co-operation I think, doc.”

“Not a doc, remember?” You grinned at him and you were about to turn on heel to depart into the adjacent washroom when you heard him call out to you again.

“Hey Not-A-Doc, if you ever need another sample, I’m happy to provide another one, whether for med-science research or your own personal research.”

A girlish giggle left you and you felt your face flame again. You shook your head, making your way into the washroom to clean yourself up. He was a naughty one that one…

2K notes · View notes

two-white-butterflies · 10 months

Text

champion of the world | m33

Description: Rumors spread around about you breaking up with Max. Those rumors are put to rest with a simple string of posts.

Pairing: max verstappen/sainz!reader

992 comments 234k likes

joviesasnd: this is my great war, i fear

charlesleclerc128love: IF THEY BREAK UP I DON'T BELIEVE IN LOVE LOLLLLL

y/ncorner: yeah plus she hasn't appeared in his insta for 3 months - joviesasnd: she's only appeared once tho, they keep it private - carlossainzfanferrari: yeah keep ur noses out of their business 😭

y/nlurksontwitter

AWOOP JUMPSCARE @Carlossainz55

Carlossainz55: Hmmpphh - latoxica90: sound of max's car flying past yours

Charles_Leclerc: tw next time :) - y/nlurksontwitter: tw hermano 🤮

"Did you check twitter?" Max asked while opening the back door for you. He couldn't believe what he was seeing - apparently some celebrities found it appropriate to tag you in their thirst traps, under the premise that you were single. "No, why?" you frown - sitting on the back seat of your brother's car.

"They're saying that we broke up," he shows you the thread of posts, squeezing his body in the right passenger seat. "Wait, really?" you frown, reaching for your phone. To your surprise there were thousands of posts tagging you.

"Oh my god, where do they get this information." you rolled your eyes - also showing it to your brother in the driver's seat. A laugh escapes Carlos' mouth seeing one of the tweets about you: 'If I can't marry Carlos, I'll marry his sister.'

You turn your attention back to Max, watching as he scrolled through an entire thread of them. "I still like your posts, why are they saying that I don't?" he pouted and a giggle escapes your lips. "Well, let's put these rumors to rest." your lips settled into a thin line, opening your gallery and searching for photos of him and you.

yourname_sainz: my #1 crush 📸: @Charles_Leclerc

9128 comments 712,291 likes

y/nsainzismydaddy: sis said *shut up

carlossainz55: ferrari ❤️ - yourname_sainz: redbull 🧡 - landonorris: that's mcclaren 💀

maxverstappen1: 💕 - yourname_sainz: 🏅

maxverstappen1: I love you today 💪🏽 I love you yesterday, and I'll love you tomorrow. @yourname_sainz #OrangeArmy #Carlito

6719 comments 1,293,238 likes

landonorris: How was she taller than him as a kid? 🤣 - yourname_sainz: stupidity stunts growth 🤷🏻‍♀️ - - carlossainz55: that's why you didn't grow after that ✌🏼

yourname_sainz: second pic, right side is an eyesore - maxverstappen1: i agree, amor. -- y/nandcarlosfanbase: y/n i can speak spanish for u too

basedbarbie69

ya'll when max and y/n posted

alexademieisgoddess

y/n stans when their crush isn't single

#max verstappen #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x female reader #f1 fics #f1 #f1 imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 fanfic

1K notes · View notes

katiexpunk · 4 months

Text

Sex On Fire, Part 3 | Pairing Firefighter!Joel Miller X Fem!Reader

Series Summary: You're a country girl in the big city, thanks to your generous aunt. You expected to have adventures your first year in New York, but what you didn't expect was for your hot, firefighter neighbor, Joel, to be part of them.

Part 3 Summary: You finally relieve the sexual tension between you and Joel. And once you get started, you never really stop.

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Word Count: ~6.6K

Warnings: Sexual tension. Finally relieved sexual tension. Size kink. Praise kink. No age gap mentioned. Pet names. Alcohol. Grinding. Explicit, unprotected m in f sex. Creampie. Fingering. Flirting. Feelings. Love. Dirty talk. Commanding!Joel. Soft!Joel. Semi-public sex. Firefighter kink. Uniform kink. Firetruck sex. Just lots of fucking, honestly. Oral. Sarah and Tommy make an appearance, Ellie get's briefing mentioned. Sex and the City references. Reader and Joel like orange chicken. Cannolis. Fire references. One reference to 9/11. New York City.

Authors Note: I have so much I could say about this one, but I'll keep it short. Thank you for your patience on this, and for all of the love. I hope you think the build-up was worth it. I love ya'll a milli.

Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications

Part 1 | Part 2

As soon as Sarah opens the door, she can tell something is different, she can feel it. She expected to find her dad engrossed in his usual weekend routine—perhaps watching a movie or reading a book—or even more so, she expected to find his apartment empty, with him being on call, but no. The fresh aroma of dinner and the faint smell of candles alert her to something more. Plus it’s quiet, a little too quiet.

“Dad?” she yells.

And shit.

You’ve got to be joking, you think.

Your eyes practically poke out of your skull as you attempt to adjust your dress, straightening and flattening the lace straps of your panties over your hips, your arousal still tacked on to your inner thighs. You frantically try to pat down your hair and wipe the indecent look from your face, but you think it might be obvious anyway. Months of wanting and need are hard to erase on demand.

Nearly getting caught, and hearing his daughter's voice, causes Joel to soften. He quickly pulls his pants up and buckles his jeans. He runs his fingers through his curls and braces for impact, rising to stand next to you in front of the couch, being sure to leave a decent gap between your bodies.

Sarah walks through the hallway and sees the dining table set for two in the distance, the candles nearly burnt to the end, but still flickering. She turns her attention to the living room, then to you and Joel, and oh, this is new. Her eyes catch a glimpse of the cocktails on the side table and then she immediately drags her gaze back to you both.

Caught off guard, Sarah hesitates in the living room, unsure of how to react. Joel looks at her but doesn’t quite say anything. "Hi, dad... I, uh, didn't know you were expecting company," Sarah stammers, feeling a flush of embarrassment.

Joel clears his throat, attempting to compose himself.

You smile warmly, trying to alleviate the awkwardness. "Uh, hi – you must be Sarah,” you sheepishly wave, “Your dad has told me a lot about you."

As Sarah steps towards you both, she can’t help but shake the feeling of intrusion. She forces a smile, trying to play off her surprise. "Hi. Um, it’s nice to meet you, too,” she pauses before adding, “I’m really sorry, I didn't mean to barge in. I just wanted to surprise you dad, but I’ll um… let you two enjoy your evening."

Joel, realizing he needs to address the situation, says, “Sarah, wait. Let me explain."

But Sarah shakes her head, not wanting to prolong the discomfort, heat creeping up to her chest. "It's okay, Dad. I'll catch up with you later. I told Ellie would meet up with her tonight anyway. I’ll be back, uh – later.” With that, she makes a hasty exit, leaving both you and Joel a bit surprised and amused. Did that really just happen?

In the hallway on her way out, Sarah can’t help but smile at the unexpected turn of events. She has never seen her dad with anyone since her mom ran out. Sure, it might be weird to think of her father with someone, but it’s quite the opposite. As far as she can tell, he seems happy. And if he’s happy, she’s happy. Plus, he deserves it.

++++

As Sarah exits the front door, you and Joel both stand there in charged silence. He turns to face you and takes a step forward to close the distance that he had intentionally created. He’s so close, enough so that you feel his belly rising and falling with this breath. You place your hand on his chest and feel the thrum of his heart beneath your palm before letting it slowly glide down over his taught muscles, your fingertips coming to rest on his pants, the tips of them gently tucked into the band below his belt.

There is so much you could say. So much he could say. Hell, so much you both should say.

You pause there looking up at Joel, waiting for him to say anything. An explanation, an excuse, something.

But he doesn’t.

Because he can’t.

Simply because for the past few months, you've dominated every corner of his mind, leaving no room for a single coherent thought to emerge. Every waking moment has been an incessant stream of you – your smile, your laugh, your perfect tits, and hell, even the thought of you spread wide on his couch, begging for him to take you. He no longer feels like a rational man capable of clear thought.

When his mouth goes to form words, nothing comes out. Although that’s not a total surprise considering most of the blood in his body is not in his brain, nor has it been for a while now. No, it’s all in his cock, and not being able to do anything about it has been slowly driving him over the edge.

The way you look at him is like an extra quarter being added to the coin pusher that’s already piled high with money, just waiting to topple over for the jackpot.

Joel Miller is a gentleman, yes. He’s also an adoring father, an excellent firefighter, and a good brother.

But right now, none of that matters. You have stripped him of every title, replacing his being down to one existential thing.

Need.

An animalistic, raw, burning desire courses through his veins for one thing and one thing only.

You.

And although he wishes it was a bit more seamless and romantic, right now he couldn’t care less. Coming down your throat isn’t enough. He hasn’t even fully had you yet, but he can already tell he’s hooked.

He’s an addict and you’re the drug. Enough will never be enough. Try as he might, he’ll always want more, more, more.

Starting right fucking now.

Joel looks down at you with dark eyes before he grabs you in a way that says he means business. One hand catches the back of your head, the other goes to your waist, and he pulls you taught against his chest, the pressure of it releases a little oof from your lungs, and he greets you with an intense kiss. You taste a hint of whiskey on his breath, and you wonder if he can taste himself on you.

This kiss feels different. The first couple were amazing, the best you’ve ever had if you’re being honest, but this one goes deeper. He kisses you with such an intensity that you find yourself questioning the laws of gravity – what goes up, must come down. Right now, you’re not sure if you’ll ever come down from the way he makes you feel, the way his lips on yours make you feel like you’re free-floating amongst the clouds.

“Mmm,” Joel moans, his lips barely separating from you. “Really had a different evening planned in my head, Darlin’,” he admits, words reverberating against your lips. He grazes them down to your jaw and places soft kisses along the square edge of it. His hot breath greets your ear, “But to hell with it…no more distractions, baby.”

All you can respond with is a moan of his name, lost in the haze of your arousal. You’ve been fantasizing about this moment for months; how finally having him deep inside you would feel. Now, your dream is materializing before you and you’re dizzy with fervor.

He continues to nip at your neck, his hands finding their way to the straps of your dress and before long he’s pulling them down, the silky fabric of your dress falling to the floor so you’re completely nude in front of him, bare save for the soiled fabric of your thong. He groans in approval against your skin before licking a broad stripe up the valley of your breasts, his hand coming up to thumb one of your nipples as he does.

“Ugh, yes Joel, I want you, need you so fucking bad,” you moan with your head tilted back as his mouth greets the tender skin of one of your breasts. His mouth navigates to the flesh of your nipple and you let out a desperate moan, tangling your hands in his salt and pepper-streaked hair.

“Yeah?” he says, a somewhat taunting tone to his voice, releasing your nipple from his mouth with a loud pop. “Love to hear you say that, baby. But I think you can beg a little better f’me, can’t you?”

“Want you so fucking much, Joel. Need to feel you inside me, it’s driving me insane not knowing what you feel like. Waited so long, please fuck me,” you add for good measure, not evening trying to mask the urgency behind your voice. You’ve never felt like this before, so full of lust, and need, your core burning at a red-hot temperature, dripping for him and only him.

“That’s better,” he says as he pushes you against the wall, not even bothering to notice the picture frames that fall to the floor as a result. He quickly spins you around, letting his hand drag from the top of your neck down the column of your spine, encouraging you to arch your back. Your cheeks meet the cool feel of the wall beneath you and the corners of your lips rise in a little smirk. Fucking finally.

He grips the sides of your waist, and palms down the length of your body, admiring the softness of your skin and the way your body naturally responds to his touch. Once at your hips, his fingers hook under the fabric of your panties and he rips the thin fabric, literally tearing it off your body.

“Fuck, look at you,” he groans. You stay pressed against the wall with your back arched for him and whisper something that almost sounds like a please. He unbuckles the metal on his belt and shoves his pants down his thighs in a haste. There’s something especially filthy about it – you fully nude in front of him, while his clothes barely cling on. He’s too voracious to fully undress or relocate to his bedroom. It has to be right here, right now.

With one hand, he grabs his heavy cock and gives it a few strokes. He uses the weeping tip of it and drags it through your already wet folds, collecting the mixture of your sick and his pre-come to coat the length of him.

He nestles himself at the entrance of your cunt, “Ready for me, baby,” to which you can only reply a muffled need you. He presses himself into your wet heat, and you let out a little moan, one mixed with a twinge of pain, but mostly pleasure. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes, and your jaw falls slack as he pushes himself further and further inside of you with every thrust. You’re already in ecstasy and he’s not even fully inside yet.

“Fuck, I can barely fit,” he mutters, “so tight, baby. Relax f’me” And something about his voice, the silkiness and commanding parts of it, causes you to listen. You take a deep breath and urge yourself to calm the walls that swallow him. And it works because, with one more thrust of his hips, his cock is buried to the hilt inside of you. You feel so full you swear you can feel him in your lungs, but it’s such an exhilarating feeling that you can’t imagine what it feels like to not have him inside of you.

“Taking this cock so god damn well, darlin’,” he mutters, his voice low. “Gonna move now, okay? Tell me if it hurts.” As he retreats, there’s a dull sting, stemming from a stretch you’re not used to, but it’s not particularly a bad feeling, just new. Your eyes flutter closed and he continues to work into you, acclimating your body to his. It doesn’t take long, your pussy responds to him in kindness, devouring it like it was made for him. Joel lets out his own wrecked groan of approval and begins to fuck you in earnest. Each movement of his hips smushes your face against the wall. The friction on your cheek should hurt, but it doesn’t. It’s adding fuel to the fire raging between your bodies.

With one hand holding you steady as he fucks into you, the other snakes around to the front of your body, and his thick fingers find your puffy and sensitive clit. He adds the slightest bit of pressure and begins to rub circles on it. “Oh my god, Joel, please – ah, please don’t stop.”

“‘M not stopping, baby. Feels too good,” he adds, his voice wrecked. The feeling of his warm chest pressed up against you, the fullness of him inside of you, and the attention he gives your body with his fingers is so intense you swear you see god.

You have given yourself many orgasms before, but you can tell that the orgasm that threatens to rip through your body is electric, different. You feel the familiar spread of pleasure that starts in your belly and emanates outwards, and within seconds you’re gone. Your breathing stops altogether, your ears ring, and your knees go weak as Joel fucks you through it.

Joel groans and drops his head to your shoulder. You coming on his cock nearly undoes him, gripping around the thick shape of him in a way he didn’t realize was physically possible. “Shit darlin’, so good for me, ‘m not gonna last much longer,” he says with an urgency behind his voice. “Where do you want me?”

“Come inside me, please want to feel it, need all of you,” you beg, and that’s all he needs to hear. He knows it’s risky, but he’s good with risk. Joel lives and breathes risk nearly every day of his life. Besides, no risk has never felt so fucking good.

You can tell from the way his breathing eradicates that he’s close. With a final stutter of his hips and his cock is deep inside of you, he empties himself, painting your cervix with so much come that your pussy can hardly hold it. “Fuck, baby,” he groans, panting against your skin. After he catches his breath, he holds your hips steady and slowly pulls out, a little glob of his release falling to the hardwood floors below as he does. Your palm comes to cup your sex as if to hold the rest of it inside of you, still wanting to have part of him inside of you, and you turn back around to face him. The feeling of the cool wall on your back offers a stark contrast to the heat of his body.

Now that you’re both finally satisfied, you stand there looking at each other. Part of you expects something to feel different, but it doesn’t. His hand comes to cup your cheek, and he plants a soft kiss on your lips. “We still have dessert, you know,” he says, gazing at you with a tenderness that causes your stomach to swoop.

You're beginning to understand that what you feel for him goes beyond mere physical desire.

What once started as a little spark in kindling, now threatens to burn the whole damn house down.

W I N T E R

As autumn relinquishes its vibrant hold on New York, a gradual transformation unfolds, marking the seamless transition into winter. The once-lush tapestry of fall foliage succumbs to the chill in the air. The streets, once adorned with a carpet of golden leaves, now echo with the crisp sound of footsteps on pavement.

Ever since your first official date a few months ago, you both have been inseparable, only parting to go to work. You take turns switching apartments, leaving practically no surface unfucked on – the couch, the kitchen floor, the dining room table – it’s all fair game.

You’ve both conceded that it’s best to do date night at home, given both of you can’t keep your hands off each other for long. It always starts out innocent, a flirty look across the table, a wink in the elevator, and before you know it his fingers are knuckle deep inside of you, curling against the spongey spot that makes you weak for him.

You and Joel haven’t officially put a name to what you are, or what this is, but for now you don’t mind. You’re content in your little cocoon of bliss.

It’s Saturday night, and Joel’s at the station for the weekend. You’re cozied up under a hand-knitted blanket, an early christmas gift courtesy of your aunt. Not by her hands, of course, she could never be bothered with such a thing. “Saw this at an adorable little market in Florence. New York is cold in the winter, stay warm. Happy holidays, darling. Love you dearly,” the hand penned note read.

You’re watching a rerun of Sex and the City, the episode where Carrie is high and yells “Fuck the chicken wings! Where did we put the fucking pot?” A half bottle of red and a handful of Sang Garden to-go cartons are spread out on the coffee table in front of you.

When you called to order, you didn’t have to even give them your selections since your voice is so obviously recognizable. The older lady on the phone – Mei, you’ve come to learn – is curt as usual, “Okay, see you in 10 minutes.” As you picked up your order, you couldn’t help but smile when you saw they had given you double the orange chicken and a side of fried rice, your new usual now that Joel is in the picture.

They even threw in a handful of extra fortune cookies, Joel’s favorite. Your heart swells to the memory of him telling you the history of the cookie, his mouth full of half of one, “they’re not even from China,” he told you, “Best guess is that they’re from Japan. Learned about it from the History Channel.”

He’s like that, an encyclopedia of random knowledge and facts, a geek in his own right. At first glance, he exudes an aura of calm competence and strength, but the deeper you get to know him, the clearer it becomes that he basically has the same energy of a golden retriever.

Midway through the episode, your phone buzzes with a text from him.

“Pretty slow over here tonight, what are you doing baby?”

“Just watching a show, wish you were here,” you quickly reply. You hardly have time to place your phone on your chest before he responds.

“Sex and the City or Friends?”

The smile that graces your face is like a teenager with her first crush. He knows you so well.

“Sex and the City. Ordered Sang for dinner, they gave me double the orange chicken and fried rice, and like a million fortune cookies. Did you eat yet?” you reply.

“Not yet. Gonna bring me some?” he replies, half-joking.

Now there’s an idea.

You unintentionally leave him on read, too excited at the thought of seeing him at work, as you throw your phone across the couch and toss the blanket off your legs. You package up the leftovers and change. Nothing too risque given it’s less than 20 degrees outside, but it’s an outfit you know Joel likes. A white tee-shirt, a soft cardigan, your favorite pair of jeans, and your waterproof booties. If there’s anything that you’ve learned since moving to New York, it’s that quality shoes are essential.

You snag your coat and scarf, bundling up against the crisp night air, leftovers in hand, and stride out the door. The winter chill doesn't bite too harshly tonight, making you skip the cab and opt for a walk – a bonus being the journey through Little Italy to reach the firehouse. The atmosphere in New York this time of year is nothing short of magical – street lamps adorned with twinkling lights, plush pine trees peeking from nearly every window. You always wondered what Christmas time in New York might look like, and now you’re glad you know.

As you make your way through the city, you pass by Ferrara Cafe and your attention is captivated by the sight of fresh cannolis being stuffed through the windows. A spontaneous decision leads you inside to snag a dozen or so as a surprise for Joel and the guys. He’s told you so much about them over the past few months, and as much as you’re excited to finally meet them, well – except for Lieutenant Franklin – you’re a tad nervous, too. With the firehouse now in view, that feeling only intensifies.

Since both of your hands are full, you place the paper bag full of cannolis between your teeth and use your free hand to grab your phone from your pocket. You type out a quick “Surprise! Come outside,” and finish the walk to the station. Standing near the front entrance with both bags in hand, your attention turned to the street, the door to the firehouse opens and a low voice greets you. Except it’s not…

“Well hey there, Darlin’,” he says, his voice slightly muffled from the toothpick in his mouth.

A cascade of dark curls crowns his head, his skin maintaining a sun-kissed glow despite the season. He boasts a broad, muscular frame, one that demands attention. The way he casually addresses you with a familiar "Darlin'" leaves you with little doubt. "You must be Tommy," you sweetly greet.

“And you must be the neighbor girl who’s got my brother stopping to smell the roses,” he responds with a little chuckle.

“Guilty as charged,” you smile, a little embarrassed, although you know you have no reason to be. You don’t miss the way his eyes drag up and down your frame. Joel had told you that Tommy was a bit of a flirt, and now you see why.

“Come on now, it’s cold out here,” he says, holding the door open for you. You don’t know Tommy, not really, but from what you can tell he probably has the same impeccable southern manners as his brother. You practically feel his eyes on your ass as you walk through the door. Okay, maybe not exactly the same manners.

Once inside the station, you let out a little sigh, happy to finally be back in a warm building. You turn to face Tommy and ask, “Joel’s here, right?” and before he can respond, Joel is within eyeshot of you, “Right here, sweetheart,” he says, looking at you in a way that makes your stomach flutter.

You swear time slows down as he approaches, like a real-life Hallmark movie. You see him all the time, but seeing him in uniform at the firehouse, causes a rush of arousal to flow through you. He plants a soft kiss on the top of your head, “what’s all this?” he asks.

“Oh uh, well, it’s dinner and a surprise,” you say, your voice slightly shrill; an octave higher than usual, a little caught up in your affection.

“Yeah?” he says, grabbing the bags from you, a genuine excitement to his voice.

“Orange chicken, some fried rice and a ridiculous amount of fortune cookies for you,” you continue, “and cannolis from Ferrara for you and the guys,” you finish.

“Cannolis!” Tommy exclaims, “Let me take this off your hands,” he says, snatching the bag from Joel, pushing through the both of you before disappearing to the kitchen to share the goodies with his team. While they’re both grown men, there are some things that will always remain true, and Tommy fighting his brother for sweets is one of those things. You smile in amusement and let out a little laugh. Joel shakes his head but you notice the corners of his lips lift into a smile as he does.

“Real sweet of you to drop by,” he says as he grabs your hand, and yanks it forward so your chest is snuggled against his. His lips fall to yours, and you let out a little moan at the warmth of them. While there are many things to love about Joel Miller, one of your favorites, especially this time of year is that he’s basically a walking space heater. His skin and touch always so warm, so inviting. He feels cozy. Homey even.

He intertwines his fingers through yours, and signals you to follow him, “Come on, I’ll give ya a tour.”

++++

Joel walks you down this hallway that's practically a living museum of memories. There are framed photos of the crew in their dress blues, badges marking moments of bravery, a worn-out flag from an engine that responded to 9/11, and even a tribute wall for the firehouse dogs that have been part of the family over the years. It's like each inch of this hallway has its own story, echoing with the sacrifice, tight bonds, and history that define this firehouse.

The air is alive with the sounds of camaraderie and the clatter of boots against the station's scuffed floors. As you pass by the living quarters, Joel points out the communal spaces where the team gathers after a call. You smile as you see all of the guys huddle around the kitchen table, the cannolis spread out on a paper plate in the middle of it. You hear one of the guys whisper don’t tell my wife about this one as he reaches for what you assume must be his second – third? – cannoli.

He guides you past the kitchen, where the lingering aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the savory scent of yesterday's family dinner. He pauses there to momentarily put the food you brought him in the fridge before continuing.

He shows you the training room, where the team hones their skills and drills to perfection. Joel explains the importance of constant readiness and practice.

You walk past a set of stairs, and he tells you that’s where the beds and showers are. “Can’t take you up there though or I might get a little bold,” he chuckles and you lift one eyebrow to him in amusement, wishing he would. You have to admit the thought of Joel fucking you with the rest of his team below, completely unaware, is kind of hot. It turns on more than it probably should.

Finally, the tour leads to the heart of the firehouse—the garage. The massive red fire trucks and the white ambulance gleam under the fluorescent lights. It smells a bit like gas, oil slick, and soap. You remember Joel telling you that they clean the firetrucks multiple times a day, something about the importance of taking care of the city’s multi-million dollar equipment, but you zoned out a little bit at the end of his speech, too distracted by his mouth as it moved.

There are giant puffy black uniform pants neatly puddled and unbuckled on the floor, ready to be stepped into for whenever the alarm signals.

You step further into the space, and Joel gestures towards the impressive array of equipment and black and yellow uniforms neatly hanging on racks, small locker shelves above each rack. You see that each hook has a last name above it. You see T. Miller above one, but you don’t see J. Miller.

You run your hand along the uniforms adorned on the racks, and look at Joel as you ask, “And where is your rack, Captain Miller?” and fuck, you haven’t called him Captain since that first morning in his apartment. Somehow your question sounds just as provocative as it did the first time you asked him, You gonna let me say thank you properly for last night, Captain Miller?

The memory of it causes his cock to flinch. He adjusts himself. You notice.

He clears his throat, and tilts his head to the adjacent wall. “Uh, mine’s over here. Keep mine separate so Tommy and I don’t mix ours up,” he answers. You walk over to his space, and see his name. There’s a black helmet resting on the hook, a large white plaque in the front of it with blocky letters that say “33”, his last name “MILLER” above the numbers, and “NEW YORK” below them.

Your hand darts out to touch it, and you trace your fingers over his last name. You pick it up and put it on your head, and look at Joel. “How do I look?” you ask, a cheeky tone to your voice, “think I pull this off?” Joel lets out a low groan of approval. Seeing you in his helmet almost does more for him than seeing you in his uniform shirt.

“Look mighty fine in my clothes, Darlin’,” he says while sauntering to where you stand and closing the gap between your bodies. His large palm reaches out to grab your wrist. He traces the pad of his thumb over your pulse and your breathing hitches in your throat. Even after all this time, his presence alone still has that effect on you. You’re convinced he could stop a Mack Truck on the freeway with his gaze alone.

“Yeah? Think I’d be good at putting out fires,” you ask, lifting your eyes to his, peering at him through your lashes, your view slightly obstructed by the plastic.

“I think you’re good at startin’ em,” he responds, amused. You give him a little smirk and pull your wrist from his grip as you walk over to the firetruck. You casually lean against it, feeling the cool metal on your back.

“Oh come on, I could put out fires! In case you haven’t heard, I own a fire extinguisher now,” you playfully tease, still keeping your eyes locked on his.

Of course he knows, he’s the one that bought it for you and walked you through how to safely discharge it.

You drop your gaze to his crotch and are pleased to see a hardness forming there, probably from the memory of his demonstration and how less than two minutes into it your lips were wrapped around his throbbing cock.

“You’re not paying attention, Darlin’, this is important,” he had said, not trying to stop you, not really, as you unbuckled his pants.

“I’m paying perfect attention, and I agree, this is important,” you responded, giving him your own lesson on how to discharge something.

Fresh off the heels of his little trip down memory lane, he walks over to you and meets you at the fire truck. His arm extends, placing his flat palm assertively on the metal above your head, revealing his sculpted bare bicep. You’re basically caged in by his body. Simultaneously, his other hand confidently finds your waist, and he tilts his face to kiss your lips. You feel his hard cock pressing back at you and it makes you whimper with desire. Your palm comes to grope the thick shape of him and he groans in response.

“Can’t do this here, baby,” he says. He takes a step back and you shrug against the firetruck.

“Hmm,” you respond. “I agree, this would be much better,” you say, stepping onto the firetruck. He’s not sure what comes over him, you just have that effect on him, but he follows you onto the rig.

It’s not as big as the outside might make it seem, but there are four decent sized black seats, two on each side facing each other. In between each seat is a row of radios, headgear, and caution vests.

Once on the truck, you think you might have to coax him to get what you want, but instead, you’re met with, “Pants off. Now. Gonna have to be quick about this, baby,” he says as he undoes the buckle of his belt and pulls his pants down, taking his underwear with it to reveal his massive package.

You do as he says, not having to worry about your panties, considering you opted for none. It drives Joel crazy anytime he sees you’ve gone commando. His helmet is still on your head, and your nipples are hard beneath your shirt. The sight of him alone has you wet and Joel can tell by the way your inner thighs gleam with slick.

He takes his place on one of the seats and holds his heavy cock by the base of it, positioning it straight up. “See what you do to me,” he groans, and gives his length a few strokes. “Come on darlin’, come take your seat,” and jesus. Commanding Joel is hot. You understand why they made him captain.

You position your legs to stand above him and begin to lower yourself onto his cock. Your eyes flutter closed at the sting from the stretch of him. You’re wet enough, it’s just that he’s so fucking big.

“Don’t close your eyes, baby. Look at me,” Joel says, and you do. He lets out a low wrecked groan of pleasure as your cunt swallows him. You feel the coarse hair at the base of him against your clit.

“You’re so good for me, so fucking good around me,” Joel groans, and you begin to slowly move up and down his shaft, “fucking made f’me,” his filthy words cause you to shudder and move faster.

“Touch your clit,” he orders. You steady yourself on his cock by placing one hand on his shoulder, using the other to rub your middle finger over your clit. You make figure eight patterns with your hips and it’s so good, so intense. His hands leave a bruise grip on your ass as he helps you grind into him. You’re close, Joel can tell by the way your walls clamp around him.

“Come for me, pretty girl, wanna see you,” he says, as he brings his mouth to your clothed nipple and offers it a gentle bite. You moan, a little too loud, caught up in the sensation of the thick drag of him in and out of your heat.

‘Gotta be quiet for me tho, darlin’,” he says as one of his hands finds its way to your mouth to silence you. With you now utterly quiet, the clapping sound of your thighs fills the air. He juts his hips up into you as you continue to ride him, and the tip of his cock brushes up against your cervix. With a few more strokes, you feel your sweet release rush through you like you’re nothing but a pool of gas ignited with a match.

“Atta girl,” he praises, “so good for me, so pretty when you come all over my cock.”

It’s not long before Joel feels his wave of pleasure build. You pant as you do your best to continue riding him through your fucked out state, a sheen of sweat on your neck and face. His grip on your body tightens, “ah fuck, fuck,” he moans as he releases hot ropes of come inside of you. His forehead drops to your chest and you card your fingers through his hair, enjoying the sticky and delicious feeling of being full of him.

Once he catches his breath, he looks up at you and your lips connect.

In the middle of your kiss, a sound you're both familiar with goes off.

The alarm.

The voice of a 9-1-1 dispatcher chimes through the speakers, “Engine 21, we have a stage three structural fire at 4145 Reed St. All units report.”

Shit.

You lift his helmet from your head and place it on his head before rising to stand.

“Off you go then, Captain, I’ll see you at home,” you say, rushing to get dressed as he does the same. You quickly jump off the truck and manage to sneak back into the firehouse unseen as the rest of the crew swirls down the firepole and rushes through the door to the truck.

Joel manages to get in uniform in record time, and is the first on the truck.

As the rest of the crew piles in, Tommy finds his seat next to Joel and gives him a knowing smirk. “Smells like sex in here,” he says.

Thankfully Joel is the only one who hears it. Joel feels heat rush up to his cheeks and before he can find the words to respond, the firetruck is barreling out of the station, sirens blaring.

You hear the loud call of the sirens fade in the distance as it drives further away, and you begin your walk back to your apartment.

++++

Once back at your apartment building, you don’t even bother to go to yours. You gather the mail that always inevitably collects on the floor by the entrance, and instead of stacking it into a pile at the base of the steps, you bring it up with you.

You lift the boring, grey door mat and reveal Joel’s spare key underneath it.

You slip the key into his lock and as it normally does, the space greets you with warmth. You grab a Bud Light from the fridge, and watch an episode of Friends before deciding to call it a night. You shower, once again using his shampoo and brush your teeth with the toothbrush that now permanently lives with Joel. You rummage through the wooden drawers in his bedroom and find the navy blue shirt with familiar blocky lettering that you’ve grown fond of.

As you crawl into his bed, you’re reminded of your first night in New York. And just like you did that night, you stare at the ceiling, paying no mind to the smile that’s been plastered on your face for not just the past three hours, the past few months.

You feel giddy, but not like a little girl seeing the stars for the first time, like a woman in love.

You’re doing it. You’re really doing it. You’re just not doing it alone anymore.

Maybe this was your aunts plan all along.

++++

Nearly 6am the next morning, Joel returns home to find you curled up, peacefully asleep in his bed. The now familiar sound of your soft snores fill the room. He hastily showers, and slips into the sheets with you, curling your body against his as he glides his arm under your pillow, being careful not to wake you. You let out a soft little moan, but for the most part are in the liminal space between your dream world and the real world. Not fully asleep, but not fully awake, either.

With his broad chest against your back, he uses his free hand to play with a loose strand of your hair. He can tell you used his shampoo again. He can’t help the dopey grin that erupts on his face.

He plants his lips against your temple.

It’s too soon.

He knows it’s too soon.

But maybe, just maybe…I mean, you’re asleep, right? You won’t hear. He has to get it out, the unspoken words burning in his chest.

He whispers a soft “I love you,” in your ear and allows himself to inhale your sweet scent mixed with lingering notes of him.

As he goes to roll over onto his side to go to sleep himself, he freezes as he hears you whisper back, “I love you, too.”

And boom.

With those simple words, the house – your heart – is no longer ablaze with a single flickering flame.

It’s on fire with an intensity you’re not sure could ever be extinguished.

END

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two-red-butterflies · 10 months

Text

the bravest soldier | m33

Description: Max Verstappen and his girlfriend go inside a taxi (not knowing that it's a prank set up for him) in which, their relationship is made public.

Pairing: max verstappen/model!leclerc!reader

yournameleclerc1 he loves himself ladies and gentlemen 💙

tagged: max verstappen

239 comments 123,210 likes

user19: UMM??? Y/N??? baramram3: i smell y/n x max 😳 maxverstappen1: 😆

"It's more of a red and orange day," he explained, moving his arms around and placing the cap on his head. He fancied himself a fashion connoisseur at home, even helping you pick out outfits for work - but when he was out with friends and the media? The same cap was on his head - the same polo, and it was frustrating.

"I actually feel proud 'cuz I forced you to wear white," you chuckled as he opened the taxi door. "Don't be too cocky, liefde." he rolled his eyes - helping you carry the luggage inside the car.

"Maybe I'll get you to wear red soon," you add - and he gently nudges you inside. "The day that pigs fly - maybe." he laughed, settling his hand on your thigh. The taxi driver in front of you looked familiar - but you couldn't remember where you saw him.

"Oi! Are you Max Verstappen?" the man rudely asks and your boyfriend nods his head. His grip on your thigh tightens - praying to the gods that he wouldn't recognize you. "Yes," he answered politely, playing with the straps of your seatbelt. He was a professional driver but seldom wore it in the passenger seat.

"Very nice eh? Must be the dream." the man complimented, moving his car away from a section of the airport. "We'll be going to ******," your boyfriend informs while fastening the seatbelt around your waist. "If you don't mind - I don't use those digital map thingies. I think that if you wanna be a taxi driver, you gotta know the roads." the man rambled, and your boyfriend continued smiling.

"Yeah, I guess that's the best way to get around things." he replied while playing with his phone. He couldn't believe that the both of you were unlucky enough to score a chatty driver. "How about the girl beside you? Is she your sister?" the man asks intrusively, and a nervous chuckle escapes both of your lips.

"No, she's uhh - my girlfriend." Max confirmed proudly, wrapping his free hand around you. "That very nice," the man nodded his head - trying to get out of a conversation that he started.

leclercuniverse16: ya'll...check channel 4 💀

arthurleclercsupporter1192: YA'LL CHANNEL 4 IS LIVE??? HOW DID REDBULL APPROVE THIS?? HOW DID MAX VERSTAPPEN'S PR TEAM APPROVE THIS??? HOW DID Y/N LECLERC'S PR TEAM APPROVE THIS?? I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS

charles16ismydaddy: what is going on? i don't have ch 4 - arthurleclercsupporter1192: they were doing one of those gags where they prank celebrities and MAX VERSTAPPEN went inside the taxi with Y/N LECLERC AND HE SAID "No she's my gf" LIKE

LandoNorris

"Y/n what was that?"

Y/N:

landaurrnorris12: lando wtf is this 😭 - LandoNorris: had to jump on it before charles finds out

bellawherehaveubeenloca: TELL CARLOS TO TELL CHARLES - LandoNorris: I think Checo would appreciate having a teammate that's alive ✌🏼

"I'm sorry, I think I took the wrong turn." the taxi driver apologizes, quickly pulling up a paper map from his pocket. "It's totally fine," you smiled at him, playing Helix Jump on your cellphone. He begins driving towards an empty field - to the right place.

"I'm sorry but I got to take a wee," the man apologizes again and your boyfriend agrees; mumbling something along the lines that he understands. Once the taxi driver was out of the car, Max began to panic. "Where are you going?" you ask and he opens the door.

"I think we should get out," he informed you, taking your seatbelt off. "Why?" you inquire - caught in headlights in the sight of danger. "There might be a bomb here," he explained and your eyebrows merged into each other. "Like assassins sent by Ferrari or something," you attempt to lighten the situation but ultimately - the both of you exit the vehicle.

Wildunchartedwatteers

Charles getting out of his car to find Max and Y/N

Y/NL/NWORLDGOSSIP

"Assasins sent by ferrari" Nooooo the enemy (Max Emillian Verstappen) has brainwashed you!!

After a long ride - you finally reached your destination. Max made sure that you were the first person to exit the car. "What's with the cameras?" the man asked while helping your boyfriend take a few of the remaining luggage inside the car. "Umm I don't know - probably something about a documentary," he shrugged, telling the cameras to leave you out of the frame.

"Wait really? Really?" the man repeated the question while taking his disguise off. An amused chuckle exits your lips - he was one of the interviewers for the sports channel. "Fucking hell mate," Max laughed, realizing that it was a setup. "I thought that you were some creep," he grinned while scratching the back of his head.

"He was prepared to run away," you say from behind the camera. "I hope it's fine that I exposed your relationship," the man apologized - quickly telling Max that it wasn't part of the plan. "Nah, you're fine mate - we've been meaning to tell the public anyways." he comforted - freezing once he sees the faint figure of your brother running towards the both of you.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen au #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen blurb #dad!max verstappen #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #Max Verstappen fanfic

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frenchkisstheabyss · 10 months

Text

♡ 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕎𝕖𝕣𝕖 "ℝ𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤" ♡

♡ Mature Content! Minors DNI! Warnings below the break ♡

♡ Pairing: ot8!boyfriend!ateez x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: A nice, calm, wholesome movie night with your boyfriends except I lied and nothing but absolute filth happens.

♡ Genre: smut with a sprinkle, a smidge, a barely visible flake of plot

♡ Word Count: 3.6k-ish

♡ Warnings: (issa lot happening so pls lmk if I miss anything) masturbation (f), use of toys (f receiving), oral (f & m receiving), anal penetration & eating (f receiving), unprotected sex (ya'll know not to do that irl!), creampies, edging, double vaginal penetration, things get rough, scratching, gagging, pet names (good girl, bad girl, slut, le usual)

♡ A/N: I wrote this with the intention of writing this soft, romantic piece but my mind got lost in the gutter and built a home there so here we are. Thanks to @anyamaris for supporting me in my nonsense as she always does.

Even with the air conditioner on, a wave of heat washes over you. Two fingers---your fingers---press firmly against your clit. You know your body better than anyone in this room. Every flick of your wrist makes your walls clench around the vibrator Hongjoong’s fucking you with. The ultra-soft silicone curves to rest its flat tip directly on your g spot. He keeps it at medium speed, the low hum of the toy a hypnotizing instrumental to the weakened moans leaving your lips. “You’re so beautiful” he whispers, delicately kissing your thigh. And you are.

Lying in the middle of your living room floor on a pile of the fluffiest pillows, you’re the prettiest thing any of them have ever seen. The plan had been to watch a movie. Horror---comedy---who cares? How could they watch anything but you? Legs spread wide. Pussy weeping, begging you to keep going just like that. Your panties, moist beyond measure, are looped around your ankle. The tight plaid mini skirt you wear is pushed up, not denying them a bit of your plush belly. Your nipples are two, tightly beaded indentations in your black crop top. They brush against the cotton each time your chest rises, turning you on even more.

It’s getting harder to play with your clit. Your muscles are tensing like a rubber band stretched near its breaking point. Your wrists are going limp. Your legs are shaking, causing your thighs to jiggle so deliciously that Hongjoong can’t resist nibbling at them. What he loves, what gets him off the most, is simply to watch you make a mess of yourself. “Mmm, Joongie. I’m gonna cum---” you gasp, arching against the pillows. Hongjoong’s laugh is nearly undetectable but you hear it, oozing lust. He’s happy with himself and with you. Pulling the soaked vibrator from your core, he pushes three fingers into you.

“Cum for me, princess. Cum around my fingers.” Hongjoong moves your hand away from your clit, wrapping his lips around it in a small O shape. Your arms fall above your head, your head turning to catch Yunho staring at you from the couch. Yunho looks spaced out. It’s as if his mind is off somewhere far away but that couldn’t be further from the truth. His mind is on you and no one else. It's fixated on the way your eyelids flutter when Hongjoong suckles at your clit. It’s committing to memory that sweet little smile you shoot him right before you lose control of your body.

Hongjoong’s been edging you for an hour all for this moment when he can finger you hard and fast, tonguing your clit as pleasure rips through your body. You’re grabbing at nothing---at anything---to ground yourself but it’s no use. “Hongjoong. Fuck” you whine, struggling to find your breath, “I can’t. Too much. Too---fuck.” Wooyoung rises from his spot on the recliner to kneel above your head. “Let me help” he coos, kissing you on the forehead. His fragrant sable locks dance around your cheeks like curtains, shutting out the rest of the world.

Smooth hands massage their way up your arms, loosening your muscles as they tighten. Fingers press into your shoulders---tickle your collarbone---traverse the arches of your breasts to circle your nipples. Woo slips your shirt up, laying his hands flat on your breasts. He kneads them, pinching your nipples in his palms. “Woo---” you moan, “Joongie---ah.” You mindlessly writhe beneath them. Hongjoong’s knuckles are grinding against your slit. His fingers---they’re so deep---spreading you open even wider.

Woo smiles down at you and there’s something so genuine about it because it is. “He’s right---” he says, “You’re so beautiful.” Woo drags his tongue across your lips just as Hongjoong’s tongue swirls between your pussy lips. There’s an audible squelching sound when his fingers pop out of you, the suction of your walls holding onto him for dear life too relentless to let him go quietly. Hongjoong gets up on his knees, sucking at his fingers, and admires the way you’re still clenching for him. He’d edge you more---keep you like this all night---but he knows he has to share.

With one last kiss which he plants on your lower belly, he leaves you in Woo’s capable hands. Woo reaches over you to run a finger across your slit and you giggle at how much it tickles. When he leans forward you get a clear view of how hard he is and catch yourself salivating. You bring a hand up to rub against his bulge. A groan emerges from somewhere deep within him, “Bad girl.” Still a tad loopy from your orgasm, you fumble your way up onto your knees. “But you love it, don’t you?” you tease, your hand reaching down to rub against him again.

Woo nibbles at his bottom lip, pulling you closer to him. You run your fingers through his hair, tucking a rogue strand behind his ear, “Up.” One word spoken in the singsong voice of an angel such as yourself has him up on his feet without question. Just as you reach for Woo’s zipper, strong arms grab you from behind, locking you in their embrace. “Choi San!” you gasp, admiring that dimpled grin of his, “I’m kinda trying to focus here---” San kisses down your neck, dipping one hand between your thighs.

His other hand cradles your chin, fingers pinching into your cheeks, and turns your head back towards Woo where a throbbing cock, arousal moistening the tip, waits for you. “Then focus---” San says, lightly squeezing your cheeks. You let your tongue fall free, resting it on the underside of Woo’s cock. Rolling it around his sensitive tip, you collect the warm salty liquid on your tongue. San lets go of your cheeks, giving you the room to bring your hand up and grip Woo’s base. You glance up at him and he’s already fixed on you. They stay that way as your fingertips trace the veins traveling up his shaft, stroking back to his base and starting all over again.

San raises your ass enough to slip his cock between your thighs. Somehow he’s even harder than Woo and you haven’t even touched him yet. “You wanna fuck me, Sannie?” “Hmm, is that how we ask?” he growls into your neck, grinding against you. Poking your ass out, you lay your head back onto his shoulder, “I want you to fuck my tight little cunt, Sannie. Please.” San grips you by the hips, sinking into you with zero patience. A vibrator has nothing on San’s cock. Woo tangles his fingers in your hair, sliding his thickness between your lips.

Bobbing your head back and forth, you suck your cheeks in---fan them out---mimicking the exact thing your pussy’s doing to San’s cock. It’s a flawlessly choreographed dance between the three of you. San bucking his hips, feeding you every inch. You rolling back against him, taking him like a--- “Pretty little slut---” San’s panting, the slobber dripping down your chin from sucking Woo off making you look like exactly that. Woo holding your head steady while you pump his glistening length, your hand and mouth working together to put his stomach in knots.

With Woo stuffing your cheeks, your screams are muffled when San picks up his pace. “Is this what you wanted, baby?” he says, slapping you on the ass. “Mmpphh” is all you can manage, Woo’s cock hitting the back of your throat. Woo and San bounce you back and forth, whispering praises that have you back on the edge in no time. Your hips stutter, cluing San in that you’re close, and his pace becomes unforgiving. Woo scoops up one of your breasts, pinching your nipples, feeling their weight in his hand. “Don’t stop---shit---y/n. So good. Don’t---” Woo twitches between your lips, pumping his seed directly down your throat.

Never one to be wasteful you drink him down, massaging his balls with your free hand. “Fuck---pussy’s so good y/n---gonna cum” San hisses and you’re cumming again. He cums with you, ropes of white painting your insides from the other end. Woo leans forward, kissing your puffy lips, “I’ll get you some water.” “And a popsicle please.” Woo and San look at each other---back at you---at each other---back at you. San straightens out your skirt, “What for?” Your gaze dances over to Seonghwa and the two of you immediately begin to blush. “We---uh---” Seonghwa stutters, “Don’t worry about it.”

Yeosang politely moves Woo and San away from you. “Excuse me. Sorry” he apologizes, moving between them to sweep you up into his arms, “We’ll get the water.” It’s not that you don’t know Yeosang can pick you up but every time he does you melt. Yeosang carries you toward the kitchen and Seonghwa’s right behind him. “And the uh---yeah.” Jongho hops up to follow them, pushing through San and Woo with zero of the politeness Yeosang offered. “Thanks though” he grins, patting Woo on the shoulder, “But not really.”

“Oh my---that’s---that” you gasp, pleasantly surprised at how much you enjoy the sensation. Seonghwa bending you over your dresser and swirling a popsicle in your asshole wasn’t on your 2023 bingo board but he has you wondering why it never was. The chill of the popsicle is calming in a way. You were overheating for a bit there but now? You feel tingly all over. With the popsicle melted and your thighs coated in drips of sticky, strawberry syrup, Seonghwa goes to work licking it off of you. His long tongue trails up your left thigh---down your right thigh. It comes back up to your ass, nibbling at the plush cheeks and making you squeal. He stays there for a second kissing them, massaging them, tickling them with the tip of his tongue.

“Hwa---mmph” you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he tongues your candy-coated asshole. Imagine having an itch. Not just any itch. One of those itches that makes it difficult to focus on anything else. One of those itches that refuse to be ignored. But you can’t reach it. No matter how hard you try, your arms just aren’t reaching until---oh god---you finally do. You scratch it and it’s so good that your legs could give out. Nothing, not a single thing, compares to how uniquely amazing that feels. That’s what it feels like to have Seonghwa making figure eights in your ass like his tongue's a professional figure skater.

While you’re bent over seeing stars, he maintains a shaky hold on his cock. Each stroke is slow and deliberate, in sync with yours. “Fuck, you taste so good” he mumbles, fully prepared to smother himself if it means tasting as much of you as possible. You hear a moan you’ve heard a dozen times before. Seonghwa tries to suppress them when he cums even though you wish he wouldn’t. Usually, he hates being messy but his cum has already glazed over his hand and the afterglow is heaven. “Fuck it,” he says to himself, falling across the bed. Spinning around you come face to face with Jongho. “Hey ya cutie” you beam, poking his cheeks.

Sometimes people say that he’s scary, mean even, but when you look at him all you see is your cuddly bear. You drape your arms over his shoulders for support, “Your turn?” Jongho effortlessly lifts you onto the dresser, kissing you like he’s been waiting forever to do it. And he has. “My turn.” He presses the head of his cock against your clit and there they are again. The hot flashes. That thin layer of perspiration on your skin. Jongho grabs your arms, pinning them behind you, and drives into you. “You’re still so wet.” “Not still” you whisper, “This is just for you.” Jongho thrusts into you and you’re full again, his cock much thicker than you remember.

Your exhausted muscles can hardly hold up to being fucked this hard but you don’t have to worry about that. In his arms, you don’t have to worry about anything besides feeling good. He could keep you steady all night if Yeosang weren’t snatching you away, tossing you on the bed. “Yeosang!” you shout, sliding back on the bed, “You can’t just throw people around like that!” Yeosang climbs on top of you, pushing your shirt up, “I can’t?” He brushes a thumb across one of your nipples, lapping at the other as his fingers massage your breast. “You can---shit---do it again” you surrender between shallow breaths.

Yeosang slips into you, his cock pulsing in time with each rise of his hips. His defined arms slip beneath your body, hands locking just behind your back. When he flips you over on top of him, it’s like your whole world’s been turned on its side. He bounces you up and down in his lap, the tremors traveling far behind your core. Just as he picks up a rhythm Jongho tears you away from him, propping you up against the wall. You’d make some smartass comment about Jongho not being good at sharing. If only there were time enough for that.

His arms are already tucked behind your knees, supporting your weight as he fucks you against the wall. “You’re such an addictive little slut, you know that?” he says, and your heart flutters. You just love when he sweet-talks you. The angle he has you at is perfect for stimulating your g spot. He’s bumping right up against it and you’re clamped down around him, as addicted to him as he is to you. “Can I borrow this?” Yeosang asks, peeling you away from Jongho and tossing you back onto the bed.

This time you’re on your knees. All fours is simply out of the question with how completely destroyed you are. “Are you just gonna toss me around all night?” you whine, burying your face in the blankets. Seonghwa lays his head beside yours, nuzzling up to you. “Of course not” he assures you, his voice warm and comforting, “I won’t throw you around when I have you. A light roll maybe---”

“Pirates! Cowboys! Biker gangs!” you mumble incoherently, jolting awake. Shaking off those incredibly strange dreams, you realize that you’re still in bed. Judging from how dark it is in your room, it’s well past midnight. You must’ve fallen asleep after what your aching muscles are telling you was a wrestling match with a bear. A barely awake Yunho tightens his arm around you from behind, “Cowboys? I’ll do anything for you but I am not putting on a cowboy costume.” “I will,” Mingi yawns, cuddling up closer to you from the other side, “I get nice boots. Probably a cool jacket. Ooh, some guns---”

“There are no guns!” you interrupt, “When did you two even get in here?” Yunho shrugs, “A few hours ago. You never came downstairs and we missed you.” The “we” he’s referring to is obvious when you notice how hard he is against your back. “You fell asleep on us” Mingi pouts, a hand running up your thigh to squeeze your ass. You drape a leg around his waist, smooching him on the nose, “Don’t do that.” “Don’t do what?” Mingi pouts even more, knowing how soft you go for him when he does this. “That! You guys are both being so---” “So?” Yunho asks, his long fingers reaching between your legs to stroke your pussy.

You shiver at the contact. Having Yunho behind you, his cock pressing into the small of your back, his fingers teasing you, makes your heart race. Mingi spreads your thighs, giving Yunho more than enough room to curl his fingers into you. “Finish what you were saying.” “I---uh---” “Uh---uh” Mingi mocks, petting your cheek. You move to playfully slap him but he grabs you by the wrist, kissing you before you can even consider trying anything else. Yunho eases a third finger into your core, “You like it when I play with your little cunt, don’t you?” “Mm-hmm” you hum, lidded eyes glossing over.

Yunho stays focused on tapping your sweet spot while Mingi hypnotizes you with his lips. Mingi has you so drugged, so completely entranced, that you don’t even notice when one of Yunho’s fingers is replaced with his. It’s not until there are four of them inside of you, two of Mingi’s and two of Yunho’s that you feel the difference. Feel the intensity of the stretch. “I think she likes it” Mingi grins, rubbing his thumb against your clit. Yunho follows suit, slipping a thumb into your ass. “Fuck---yes---Yunie---Mingi---mmm!” you cry out, so overstimulated that your eyes begin to water.

They grind into you harder, forcing out screams louder than any you’ve made tonight. “Please---inside of me---wanna feel you. Both of you” you whine, so lost in how badly you want them that you don’t realize what you’re asking. Mingi slides his hand out, smearing your juices between your folds, “Aah, she’s adventurous tonight. You sure you can handle that?” “I-I can. Ah, shit. I need it.” Yunho spreads his fingers in a V, rolling them around inside of you, stretching you from every angle. Mingi brings the head of his cock to splash in the juices leaking from your needy core and Yunho pulls out of you, focusing instead on freeing himself from his pants.

For a fleeting moment, it occurs to you how fucking insane you are. Mingi and Yunho at the same time? It’s not only the thickness, it’s the length. You wonder if you have a death wish. Mingi guides himself into you, only the first inch, sending shockwaves through your system. If this is how you die, you figure, at least you’ll die happy. Yunho spits into his palm, moistening his length before he brings it to meet your already occupied slit. Mingi slides in another inch or two, keeping his cock flush against the roof of your walls. Yunho raises himself into you, taking his time to watch for any signs that you’re uncomfortable, “Let us know if it’s too much, okay?” You make a little squeak to acknowledge how nice it feels to be protected, even when he’s in the process of tearing you in half.

He begins to slide up into you, pausing to let Mingi push in a little more, then taking his turn again. It’s a toe-curling, lip-biting back and forth to get them both inside of you. Once they are, you're falling apart, screaming, digging your nails into Mingi’s arm. Pulling his shirt up over his head, he gathers the material and shoves it in your mouth. “We don’t want them to think we’re killing you.” You’re so full, stretched beyond your limit, that only one of them can fuck into you at once. There’s no room for anything---or anyone---else. You belong to them. “You’re always worth waiting for but shit” Mingi grunts, his length throbbing, as much as it can given the space.

There’s moisture on your cheeks. You’re crying. Not from pain. No. That initial sting gave way to pleasure once they were both finally inside of you. You’re crying, drenched in your own tears, because parts of you are shifting that you didn’t even know could. Every stroke has your ears ringing, your heart in your stomach. You feel heavy and weightless all at once. The darkness of the room swallows you while somehow managing to be blindingly bright. There’s an explosion somewhere inside, releasing the building pressure. You’re at your peak again, legs kicking like you’re dangling high up. It hits you hard. So hard that you’re not breathing. Breathe, girl, breathe!

Just as you catch your breath and think that you’re maybe---maybe---coming down, Yunho's filling you up like a donut. Mingi pulls out, tapping his head against your clit as warm cum sprays against you. Correction: Filling you up like a glazed donut. The three of you collapse, unable to do much else besides make a series of broken noises. “Hmph mmm mm hmph,” you say? Scream? Mumble? Mingi throws his arm across his chest, understanding your incoherent huffs, and takes the shirt out of your mouth. You pat him lovingly on the head, “Thanks.”

Readjusting yourself on the toilet, you rub the partially melted popsicle between your legs. This is nowhere near sexual in nature. You’re just in desperate need of relief from how sore you are after the day’s events. “Aah, yup, that’s the spot” you sigh, “Seonghwa really was onto something.” “Was I?” Seonghwa asks, rubbing his eyes. You jump a bit, startled by his sudden appearance in the doorway. Seonghwa stretches, dragging his feet into the bathroom.

As adorable as he is in his pajamas, his hair a complete mess, seeing him right now isn’t ideal. He shakes off the sleep, taking his time to process what’s going on. “Is that a---” “Ssh, if you tell anyone---” Seonghwa’s cheeks turn rosy, a smile spreading across his face. He takes you by the hand, bringing you to your feet, “Come on.” “Hwa, hold on, do you think? I wasn’t--no. No!” You reach back to drop the popsicle in the sink but Hwa pulls you along. “Hold onto that.”

#ateez smut #ateez x you #ateez x chubby reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x reader #ateez ot8 #ateez oneshot #hongjoong x y/n #mingi x y/n #jongho x y/n #yeosang x y/n #yunho x y/n #seonghwa x y/n #san x y/n #wooyoung x y/n #chubby reader

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pupyuj · 6 months

Note

gamer g!p yujin x fem!reader 🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕 im so down bad for yujin SORRY

i come bearing a very self-indulgent and specific gift for this prompt hehe 😈😈

see, i'd make yujin a loser here cuz ya'll know why BUT i thought it'd be fun to make her a cool n sexy gamer bcs only ahn yujin can pull that off 😼 anyway, she'd love making you play her games!! yujin has the brightest smile on her face when you sit down on a separate chair beside her while she's gaming and ask questions 🥺 and she falls even harder for you when she notices how well you listen to her while she's explaining stuff like the nerd that she secretly is ☺️☺️ yujin would probably be a pretty popular streamer too! she's pretty, she's funny, she's actually good at every game she plays, and she can talk really well even through the screen and the camera!! her viewers love catching you standing behind her, completely immersed in her gameplay that you don't say anything—they think you're so cute 😭 the two of you are probably a popular ship on twitch LMAO 😭

and now comes menace gamer bf yujin who makes you play her games while you're sat on her lap,, being the pervert that she is, she has her hands all over you while you're trying to learn,, of course yujin only does this when the cameras are turned off—she doesn't want anybody to see you in ways only she's allowed to. she rubs your nipples through your shirt, but you don't even notice at first bcs you're so focused on the game, what a cutie :(( you finally take notice of the sensation when yujin pinches on them, making you let out a small gasp that always sounded so fucking good in yujin's ears,,

she definitely fondles your tits underneath your shirt while she whispers instructions in your ear,, knows how much it's affecting you by the way you shivered and tried your hardest to hold back your whimpers but is a bit annoyed bcs you're so well in the game still?? 😭 and god,, she's always making sure that your position on her lap is perfect with your ass right on her bulge,, it makes everything easier on her part,, gently puts her hands on your hips and starts grinding up slowly,, exaggerates her moans just to get your attention, gives you that shit-eating smirk-smile she always has on when she knew she was getting inside your head.. and then she gets really fucking annoying 🤭🤭

yujin slipping her hand inside your shorts to rub your needy clit through your panties, still grinding on your ass, lips right on your ear while she whispers, "my good girl's gonna complete this level for daddy, right?" guys what the fuck i need her—

and ofc you have no choice but to nod and whimper :(( and oh, how she fucking loves that 😩😩

yujin knowing what exactly gets you to do whatever she wants to make you do.. "sit on my cock. if you do well enough maybe i'll fuck you, but if you don't... you're not coming at all tonight." and being the pathetic slut that you are, you obey! cockwarming yuj while you try your hardest to play but she's making it so hard :(( between her small, slow thrusts from time to time, fingertips barely brushing against your clit, a semi-hard grip on your thigh, and the soft moans that left her mouth every time you adjusted yourself a little bit... how could you not lose control of yourself?? 😣

barely a second after completing the level and you immediately drop the controller on the floor.. yujin grabbing you by the back of your shirt, pulling you into her and pressing her fingers against your clit hard, making you moan loudly and grab onto her wrist, "so good for daddy, aren't you?" yujin says against your ear,, fuck she'd lick from the crook of your neck to the spot behind your ear just to hear your sweet moans,, yujin doesn't hesitate to manhandle you either! especially when she's desperate to fuck you like this.. throwing you down on the couch with your ass up and face buried on one of the couch pillows, but she pulls your hair so your voice could fill the air while she pounded you from behind 🫣 gawd... her one hand holding your waist in a death grip, muttering curses as well as your name while she fucks into you with her big dick :((

"just like that.. fuck yourself into my cock—god.. good girl..!"

"that's my girl.. move, (y/n)..."

"you like daddy's games, huh..? don't worry, we'll get to play more.. so much more.. f-fuck! i'm.. c-coming—"

looking behind you just to see the sight of yujin's pleasured expression with her eyes shut tight and teeth biting her lip while sweat drips down her perfect neck.. 😳😳😳

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queen-of-reptiles · 4 months

Text

𝙷𝙾𝙾𝙺𝙴𝙳

description: In which leah's rockstar girlfriend shows the england girls how to really put on a performance

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leah williamson x female reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction! Do not take any of this seriously.

warnings: language, cute leah, some suggestive jokes

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y/n just posted on their story

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leahwilliamsonn just posted on her story

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y/n just posted

liked by lucybronze, keirawalsh and 8.9 million others

tagged lionesses,

y/n ready to put on a show ;)

view 2.3 millions comments

username1: CUTEEEEEE 😍😍

username2: I love how much the Lionesses love her - my heart 🥺🥺

username3: ❤️❤️❤️

leahwilliamsonn: always ready for you my girl <3

y/n: my baby <3

username4: 🥺🥺

lucybronze: excited !!!!!!

y/n: SAME!!!!!

stanwaygeorgia: you better do 'hooked'! 😡

y/n: 😏😏

username5: WHOOOOOO!! 👏👏👏

alessiarusso99: AHHHHHH

ellatoone: AHHHHHH

Lj10: AHHHHHH

y/n: oh my children!

username6: 🥺🥺

username7: CUTE

username8: I don't really see the hype about her shows 🤷‍♀️

username9: Okay????? The off you fuck! 🖕

username10: hahahahahahah 😂

1maryearps: Gonna be a good night!

racheldaly3: A great night!

mbrighty04: The best night!

y/n: ffs !

username11: ahahahaHAHAH

username12: 😍😍😍

see more comments...

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y/n grinned as she sucked a deep breath through her nose, her breathing slightly out of pace from all the jumping as she slid her guitar strap over her shoulder, fixing the instrument to her.

"Okay, I know ya'll love this one." y/n grinned, she looked up at the VIP section, eyes catching that of her lover's. Leah Williamson, even now, when there were thousands screaming for her, all y/n would ever want to find was the blonde.

y/n's fingers played the familiar riff on the guitar and the crowd started their screaming again as the drums kicked in. The Lionesses in the section all cheered and began to bounce as Leah chuckled.

"Yesterday I crashed my car Because I wondered what it'd feel like Pressed my foot down on the pedal And I ran right through the stop sign." y/n sang.

Her voice had always been low, raspy and powerful. She used to hate that, but as she got older and found that no songs fit her, she found that it was best to write ones to do so.

Leah loved her voice, from the second the two met Leah would sit and listen in awe every time y/n opened her mouth, she could be recording in the studio or belting mockingly in the shower, Leah would stop and listen every time.

"Told all my friends I hate them And then I played the victim 'Cause God forbid the problem's ever me Fucked my ex just to do it Guess therapy's been useless What a waste of £250 a week." y/n continued before holding the microphone out to the crowd.

"SO HOW DOES THAT MAKE YOU FEEL?" The stadium erupted, shouts and screams from everyone saying the line.

"Well." y/n hummed, the music stopping for a second before the lights flickered and the drums kicked back in as the smoke machines went wild.

"I think I'm hooked on feeling low Like morphine in my soul Kinda like when I go cold (cold, cold) I think I'm hooked on feeling down I drink until I drown Anything to black it out (out, out)

I think I'm hooked I think, I think I'm Hooked

I think I'm hooked I think, I think I'm Hooked I think I'm..."

The performance boomed as y/n sung through the chorus. Her voice strong and just louder than the screaming crowd. Her precious guitar now sat safely off her as she bounced and sang.

Her hair was slick with sweat as she lent back slightly her jaw line popping and making Leah sigh and pinch at her nose in need at how hot her lover was.

"You alright there Leah?" Georgia asks, her voice worried as Leah turned to look at her, but the blonde scoffed when she saw the shit-eating grin on Georgia's face.

"Shut up." Leah huffed as the girls around them continued to dance along.

"Blow through all of my money On cigarettes and coffee 'Cause being broke is hard at 23." y/n sang.

"I'm actually 25 now." She added in spoken words, Leah rolling her eyes at the cigarettes line which was a habit she had tried to get her lover to stop.

"Go write another sad song And play it for my poor mom Anything so she feels bad for me." y/n continues before holding the microphone out once again.

"Y/N THIS IS SO DEPRESSING." The screams ran out from the stadium, Leah wincing as she shouted with them, and Lucy's shout in her ear.

The chorus began again and the lights flashed wilder as the bass became jumpier, the crowd bobbing as they jumped with y/n who always had good stamina and a great core to sing and dance as she did.

"I think I'm hooked." y/n finished with her song. The lights cutting out as the crowd screamed as the lights came back up, y/n laughing as she waved to everyone.

y/n let out a sigh as she slid her jacket off, her strong arms coming into show from the black one-piece she was wearing which was a bit too low cut for Leah's liking.

The sleek Arsenal red flares her lover also wore were more covering than the cleavage filled top, but the tightness at the top clung to her perky ass so well Leah gulped.

The cheers got louder which caused y/n to laugh as she ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head at the whistles which were aimed her way.

"This, is for one woman only." y/n winked, nodding toward the Lionesses where the camera zoomed in on the now smirking blonde captain.

Keira chuckled next to Leah as Georgia jeered, clapping her friend on the back who rolled her eyes playfully as y/n then hummed into her microphone.

"Got time for one more ay?" She asked her band who nodded.

The tune of 'Hot Gum' began and people went wild as the lights went down and came back up as y/n danced in place, Leah wetting her lips as she watched her lover.

"I hold soft flames on my tongue And chew on them like chewing gum They burn the roof of my mouth But I won't spit it out loud right now."

y/n's voice was low and lazy, vocal fry peaking through as she tilted her body around to the beat as the crowd cheered. The lights suddenly went dark as y/n continued.

"There's an inferno in your mouth I can tell by the way you smile like it burns You press your lips together like you're kissing yourself To stop me from learning." y/n's voice continued.

Suddenly the lights had come up and y/n was no longer visible on stage, but the camera's had found her. Leah jumped at the image of her lover behind her.

y/n chuckled into the microphone and wrapped an arm around the blonde's waist and despite the fact y/n was shorter than the blonde in that moment she had all the power.

"She's a keeper, she's a believer She's on the ground, on her knees in a theatre And she put us in a car, I don't know where we are But she fell in love with a fever." y/n sings.

The crowd were screaming once more, y/n grinning at her lover as she spun around her and to her front, Leah's arms wrapping around her naturally as she lent back to sing.

"I could never leave her, I could never keep her" That's what she says to the neighborhood preacher And she put us in a car, I don't know where we are But I fell in love with the fever and I." y/n sang.

Leah couldn't help but lean down and press a small kiss to the junction where y/n's neck met her shoulder and the crowd cheered once more.

"I watch us burn and fall, the heat is ten feet tall The potential is bench pressing us into the wall And the flick of flames weaving through my teeth If the hot gum were to slip out, where would we be?" y/n sung.

The girl switched so her back was against Leah's chest as she danced with the blonde's team the group all laughing as Leah's arms hugged tightly to y/n's waist as she continued to sing.

"She's a keeper, she's a believer She's on the ground, on her knees in a theatre And she put us in a car, I don't know where we are But she fell in love with a fever." y/n sang, slipping to her knees in front of her lover.

The cheers that arose were louder than anything all night as the camera continued to film as y/n lent into a backbend her hand gripping Leah's thigh - on her good leg, tightly.

"I could never leave her, I could never keep her" That's what she says to the neighbourhood preacher And she put us in a car, I don't know where we are But I fell in love with the fever and I." y/n sang once more.

She rose to her feet as the song continued, pulling the blonde in for a kiss which Leah returned albeit a little sheepishly considering they were in front of thousands.

y/n pulled away, pecking Leah's lips once more before high-fiving Georgia and running back to stage for the last section of the song.

"If I tell you what I'm thinking promise, you won't tell yourself If you tell me what you're thinking, I swear I won't tell myself She's on the ground, she's on his knees, she's a believer She's on the ground, she didn't listen to the preacher." y/n finished with a dramatic bow.

The crowd screamed and cheered as y/n chuckled, waving to them once more as she began to thank them all and her band.

"And thank you baby, for being so good with me." y/n added into the microphone which caused Leah to chuckle. "And to the team, because you're all always hype-women for me and that slaps." y/n added.

The crowd cheered as she thanked them once more before running off-stage, sighing in relief as she chugged a bottle of ice cold water while she waited for the growing cheers of the Lionesses to get closer.

"You sure know how to put on a show mrs. skipper!" Millie called as she slammed her hands on y/n's shoulders, only to wipe the sweat which coated them onto a shouting Rachel.

LJ and Hempo both cheered as the three shared a quick shared high five, before Lotte, Beth and Niamh all did the same.

"Hmm, certainly." Leah said, folding her arms and raising a sharp brow, an unimpressed look on her face at the stunt pulled.

"Love you." y/n winked as she pressed a kiss to Leah, Alessia and Ella letting out fake gags which caused Lucy to hit them.

"Children." Keira chuckled as Georgia high-fived y/n once again as y/n sighed and sagged.

"Carry me to dressing room?" She asked Leah tiredly and the blonde nodded, swooping up the star into her arms as the Lionesses teased and cooed.

"Shut up!" Leah called before walk off with her lover.

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y/n just posted

liked by leahwilliamsonn, stanwaygeorgia and 9.3 million others

tagged leahwilliamsonn

y/n she's a believer, she's on the ground on her knees in the theatre...

p.s. thank you london - so fucking much xxx

view 4.4 million comments

username1: YOU WERE AMAZING !!!!!! 😍😍

username2: I Cried three times 😭

username3: I CRIED AT THEIR KISS 😭

username4: that was hot 🔥

username5: 🔥🔥🔥

ellatoone: the best night ever ! ESPECIALLY FOR LEAH ;))

alessiarusso99: Subtle Ella

keirawalsh: hahahahahahha - well done y/n!!

y/n: Love you !!!

username6: HEHehhehe

leahwilliamsonn: my girl - I - ...

y/n: Leah.exe has stopped working

lucybronze: disappeared like Houdini 🧐

1maryearps: Only disappeared because she's so small tho 🤷‍♀️

y/n: count your days earps...

1maryearps: gulp...

mbrighty04: you get well sweaty on stage mate ☺️

racheldaly3: and needy too apparently 😏

leahwilliamsonn: I'm not rli complaining

y/n: ;)))

username7: Her and Leah are so cute! 🥺🥺

username8: Right?!?!?!!!! ❤️

see more comments...

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leahwilliamsonn hooked on you...

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END

loved this one and really got into the performing section lmao

Songs used:

Hooked - Sam Short

Hot Gum - Sofia Isella

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velvetm00light · 5 months

Text

Peace

photos: pinterest dividers: @benkeibear, @mariariley, @haerinism

Word Count: 3.4k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Y/n's dog tackles a handsome stranger in Central Park. As her and the stranger spend the rest of the afternoon getting to know each other, they part too soon and without even telling each other their names. The solution appears quickly in the form of a handsome, lanky man appearing at her apartment the next morning.

Warnings: fluff!!!! pretty much it i think

A/N: I accidentally posted this on my primary that I don't use a few days ago so I decided to just reupload it here. Thought ya'll deserved a cute one. <3 Enjoy!!!

THE GOLDEN LEAVES RUSTLED along the cracked sidewalk, towering mixtures of trees loomed overhead, their branches reaching for each other, the Creation of Adam painting itself in the nature around her. Her charcoal boots thudded lightly, the sound overtaken by the rush of bicycles and the flutter of passing conversations as she strolled through Central Park. The leash in her hand was rough against her soft palms. The dog at her side trotted happily, smiling at the strangers rushing past.

As a native to New York, the city specifically, she made a habit of spending most of the daylight she could spare exploring the park. A habit that proved almost impossible to break because no matter how many times her feet walked the same sidewalk, her eyes took in the same leaves in all seasons - lush green in the spring and summer, amber and fiery red in the autumn, and withered and crunchy spread across the sidewalks and grass in the winter - there was no where else she could truly feel peace.

Peace has been a complicated thing to find her entire life. As soon as she felt it in her grasp, it became sand slipping through the cracks between her fingers before she could even close her fist in an attempt to capture as much as she could. But, that sand turned into the soft wool of her favorite coat as she pulled it tighter around her in an attempt to warm herself. Peace became tangible the moment she threw her coat on, strapped on her pup’s harness, and made her way to her safe place.

She was snapped out her thoughts by a sudden yank on her arm, the soft grip on the leash in her hand gave way before she could consider tightening her hand. Her gaze snapped to her now sprinting pup, heading in the direction of a red maple tree just a few yards to the right of the trail they had been walking. She didn’t allow herself time for confusion on why her normally calm and behaved pup had randomly chosen to run off.

Her lungs burned as cold air pressed into her lungs as she ran in the same direction. Her confusion only grew when she neared the maple to see her dog bouncing onto a man sitting against the trunk of the tree, a thick blanket underneath him and the book in his hands flung into the grass. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” She called, slowing her speed as she reached the poor man who was just tackled by her dog. “He’s never done that before.”

“It’s okay,” he chuckled, his hands gliding along his fur, accepting the sloppy kisses attacking his face. “I love dogs.”

She grabbed his book from the dewy grass and laid it on the blanket next to him. “I’m so sorry about your book, it got kind of wet. I’ll give you the money for it,” she apologized, reaching into the pack strapped across her chest to rummage for any loose cash.

“Don’t worry about it, my books are definitely worse for wear normally.” His smile was bright, contagious. A smile crept up on her face, the corners of her lips tugging insistently upward as her hands abandoned her pack.

“Are you sure? I can totally pay you for it. My dog is the reason it got wet.”

“I’m sure. Don’t worry about it.”

The cover of the book she had laid on his blanket was in fact worse for wear. It was curled up at the edges as if this wasn’t the first time it had gotten wet. The spine was so cracked the book almost splayed open just laying on the blanket, the wind a gentle hand trying to pull it fully open.

“I’m glad someone else’s copy of The Fisher King looks similar to mine.” She smiled, her eyes lingering on the blemished book then to his face. Her dog had finally calmed down, splayed next to the stranger with his belly up. He ran slender fingers up and down her pup’s belly.

The first thing that caught her eye was his eyes. There was a flaming halo of amber, with a dirty, leather brown inside. His eyes reminded him of an old leather book - worn with love, pen marks torn through the pages with passion. The sweater vest he was wearing and the circular glasses that sat upon the bridge of his nose established her thought - he just looked like he belonged in a library, reaching for outdated texts, sitting in a poorly lit corner, stacks of books hiding his bowed head from view as he endlessly read books upon books for hours.

His eyes had widened at her statement about his book. “You’ve read The Fisher King?”

She laughed lightly, “Do I not seem like the studious type?”

“I’m just surprised, that’s all.” He smiled up at her from his spot on the blanket. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone who had even heard of it before.”

“Good thing I’m not just anyone.”

He nodded lightly at this, the corner of his lips tugging up so far she thought his jaw might start to hurt.

“I personally like Shadowlands better,” she teased. It wasn’t a lie, however. She had always been a sucker for romances - it certainly raised her standards unrealistically, but it’s not her fault fictional men are so much better than real ones. “And you can never go wrong with Les Misérables but it feels cliché to say that’s my favorite.”

His smile reached his dancing eyes. His fingers still rubbed at her dogs belly almost subconsciously. “You’ve got good taste in books,” he says finally.

“I guess I could say the same for you. Mind if I sit? Since my dog seems insistent on staying here the rest of the day.”

“I don’t mind at all, have a seat.” He pulled his legs up, sitting cross legged instead of stretched out like he had been. She copied his posture as she plopped down on the blanket with him and her attention whore of a dog - understandably, because if she had seen him first, she might’ve just ran over and demanded he touch her too.

“Who’s your favorite author?” She asked, placing her elbow ontop of her knee and resting her chin in her hand. She titled her head to the side, and his smile returned slightly at the image of her - innocent and sweet.

“I could probably list about fifteen.”

“Pick one,” she chuckled.

“Thomas Merton, probably. I’ve got a soft spot for his poetry.”

“Love is our true destiny,” she began. His eyes sparkled as he joined in on her recitement from Love and Living. “We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone - we find it with another.”

“You really are perfect, huh?” He smiled. Resting his head on the bark behind him, his gaze never leaving hers, and the relentless smile still plastered on his face.

“Your words, not mine.” She smiled back, it was impossible not to smile back at him. She felt like the only person in the entire world when he smiled at her, like she was truly the only thing that mattered. A heat bloomed in her neck and rose into her wind-kissed cheeks. She hoped the cold prick of the wind rubbing her cheeks raw hid the redness heating her face.

Their conversation about literature continued, both of them talking animatedly and rushed, as if the amount of time they had with each other would never be enough. It was a shocking revelation for them both to realize how much in common they had and how effortlessly the conversation between them flowed, like they weren’t really strangers at all.

The sun had begun to set, laying over the horizon as if slowing it’s own process down to give them just a little bit longer. The chill had picked up as the sunlight turned into dusk but neither of them really noticed until the park was empty and hungry whines escaped her dog.

“I didn’t even realize we had talked for so long,” she said, a laugh escaping her lips. She just felt so…at peace. Sitting here with him.

“Honestly, me either.” He gave her a sweet smile back and a shrug. Unspoken words hung on his lips, but he decided not to voice them.

“I suppose I should get going,” she started, standing up from the blanket she had sat on for hours, her joints and muscles protesting against the sudden movement.

“Let me walk you home.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

“Thank you.”

The stranger gathered his blanket and his book, shoving both in between his arm, following her lead out of the park and towards her apartment. Her teeth chattered so harshly it rattled her skull. The sun had set, becoming impatient waiting for them to finally part.

Without a word, the man her dog had jumped on just a few hours ago unwrapped the blanket from under his arm and laid it across her shoulders. “It might be a little dirty but I put the upside on you.”

“Thank you, my jacket has seen better days anyway,” she smiled, pulling the thick wool around her, engulfing her like a hug. She sighed of relief at the warmth it provided her chilled bones. They walked in easy silence, sneaking occasional glances at each other when the other wasn’t looking.

He was the first one to break the silence. “Have you always lived in the city?”

“Mostly. I grew up just outside of the city but it’s close enough. You don’t look like you grew up in the city,” she teased. Her dog trotting beside her sleepily but eager to get home for dinner. Her grumbling stomach agreed with her dog’s eagerness.

He laughed lightly, “You’re not wrong. I’m from Las Vegas.”

“Wow! That’s really cool actually. I’ve never been out West. Why did you come here?”

“I was tired of it, long story short. But I’ve always loved being in a city, being able to walk mostly everywhere I want to go, the sense of community.”

“Unfortunately, most New Yorkers have no idea what the words community or kindness mean.”

He laughed, nodding in agreement. His laugh was just like his smile - infectious. If he laughed, anyone around him wouldn’t be able to stop themselves from laughing along even if nothing was funny. When he laughed hard, his eyes fluttered shut and he tipped his head back slightly. When he laughed lightly, he had small wrinkles at the side of his eyes, and he always had that toothy grin. It startled her to realize that in the few hours she knew him, she already knew this much about his mannerisms.

Too soon, they reached her apartment building’s door. She fished out her keys from her pack, her pup pushing his head up to the door, ready to kick it down if he had human legs. “Thank you so much again for walking me home. I hope you’re not too far, it’s pretty dark out now.”

“It was no problem, I wanted to make sure you made it safe. Don’t worry about me, I might not look like it but I can put up a fight.”

She smiled at him because he was right. His lanky frame and nerdy look in fact made him look like he didn’t even know how to throw a punch, but who was she to make judgements?

The door unlocked with a click. “Hopefully, we’ll meet again soon,” she smiled, handing him his blanket and heading inside the foyer of her apartment building.

She plopped onto the couch in her cramped living room and let out a sigh she had no idea she was holding in. Then the realization hit her, she didn’t even ask for his name or how to contact him. She groaned. Of course she would be stupid enough to let the only guy she’s had a connection with in years slip through her fingers.

The rising sun shone through her living room curtains, spilling like honey over her face. Her eyes fluttered open, confusion fogging her brain for a moment. She must have fallen asleep on the couch though she wasn’t sure when she even fell asleep. A book laid open, splayed on the hardwood floor next to her couch. This is a familiar scene she sees way more often than she’s willing to admit. There’s no greater way to relax than to read a good book in ambient lighting. It had started raining shortly after she got home last night, the hard patters of rain drops hitting her window. That was enough to cause her to pass out before even finishing a chapter.

She was abruptly snapped out of her daze as her intercom buzzed. Her confusion deepened, completely unsure if she was expecting anyone this morning or if she had overslept and missed a meeting. When the second buzz rang through her apartment, she rushed over to answer it. “Hello?” She said sleepily.

“Hi, I’m sorry uh..I’m the guy your dog tackled in the park yesterday.” If she could see his face, she’s pretty sure he’d have a nervous smile on it. His hand running anxiously through his curls, hoping he buzzed the right apartment and desperately hoping she didn’t feel uncomfortable at him showing up.

“Oh! Hi! Sorry, come on up. I’m in apartment 3B.” She groaned as she realized he probably already knew that, considering he had buzzed her apartment.

She buzzed him in quickly and realized the state she was in. She rapidly ran her fingers through her knotted hair, combing through as many knots as she could in the time it took him to reach her front door. She straightened her clothes, the same ones she had gone to the park in minus the coat hanging by her front door. She rushed over to pick up the book from the floor, setting it gently on the coffee table in the middle of the living room.

A soft knock rattled her front door and she rushed over to it, fixing her hair and clothes again before pulling it open. “Hi,” she breathed, her chest suddenly too tight. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous, he was the one who showed up to her apartment.

“Hi,” he responded, a sheepish smile tugging up the corner of his lips. His hands were shoved into his coat pockets, as if to keep himself from fidgeting in front of her, a feign of confidence. “Sorry for showing up randomly.” He finished quickly, realizing she was waiting for him to explain himself.

“It’s okay, to be fair I did let you walk me home. If I thought you came to kill me you wouldn’t be standing here.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. She stepped aside and motioned for him to come inside. He didn’t hesitate to step through the threshold and take in her apartment while she shut the door behind him.

“Your apartment is beautiful, it feels like nature but home.”

“Oh, thank you. That’s actually the best compliment I’ve ever gotten,” she smiled, gazing around her apartment with him. She had a variety of plants scattered around her apartment - large potted plants that reached toward the ceiling in the corners, small plants in decorated pots lining shelves, settled on her coffee table, and even in her kitchen. She always assumed having fresh air to combat the natural stench of New York City was never a bad idea. She had posters and picture frames hung up with precision, decorative throw pillows scattered on her couch from a night tossing and turning, bookshelves filled to the brim with books, plants, and trinkets.

“Make yourself at home,” she said, intending for him to sit on the couch while she made them…tea? She wasn’t really sure what kind of expectations she had as a host. “Do you like tea?”

“Love it.”

“Perfect.” She rummaged through her cabinets in search for tea, it would be slightly embarrassing to have run out of tea bags after she already asked if he wanted tea. Thankfully, she found a few loose boxes of tea and made steaming cups for them both.

She carried the tea out carefully so as to not burn herself or spill any on the floor beneath her bare feet. She gently handed him his cup which he gratefully took and cupped between two palms, waiting for it to cool.

She settled in the seat next to him on the couch, copying his actions and cupping the warm cup between her hands. Her apartment luckily didn’t feel like the outside world with the biting wind and the bone-chilling cold, but, this man’s presence was enough to send a shiver rattling down her spine and goosebumps rising along her flesh.

“Thank you for the tea,” he smiled, delicately blowing on his tea to quicken up the cooling process.

“Of course, I’m sure any normal host would offer tea, it felt like the socially acceptable thing to do.” She gave him a small smile back, just enough to lift the edges of her lips upward, but not enough to bare her teeth.

Her brain still felt rattled at the fact that this stranger she had only met around 24 hours ago had remembered where she lived and showed up to her apartment.

They both took ginger sips of the steaming tea before setting their respective cups on the coffee table. “It’s delicious.”

“Thank you, I don’t make tea often but I’m glad I’m still good at it.”

He chuckled lightly and the sound reverberated around her apartment. Her mind betrayed her and thoughts of that laugh just swimming around her apartment on a regular basis caused an ache in her chest. She hadn’t had a man in her apartment in probably years, most likely for the best.

Her work was her life, she had the terrible habit of drowning in her work when life got rough, or when her feelings got inevitably hurt. She almost wanted to kick this gorgeous man out of her apartment before he could hurt her feelings or disappoint her like the rest.

“I’m sorry for showing up randomly,” he started, rubbing his sweaty palms across the legs of his jeans. “I never got your name or your contact information so I hope I’m not crossing any lines by coming by.”

Despite her better judgment, a smile grew on her face. It really was sweet.

“It’s okay, I’m just surprised.”

“Understandably. I just couldn’t let you slip by,” He said shyly. He grabbed his tea cup again, an attempt to still his fidgeting fingers.

Her breath hitched in her throat. Her mind swam as she attempted to push back her assumptions. It wasn’t every day that a random stranger showed up at her door, a handsome one at that.

She realized she must have been staring wide-eyed at him because he chuckled softly. “I’m sorry if that was a little too forward.”

“Oh! No, it’s okay. I just- What do you mean?”

He ran a hand through his chestnut curls, the other gripped onto the tea cup like his life depended on it. “I just-I’ve never been able to talk to someone like that.”

She nodded slowly - she knew exactly what he meant. She had thought the same thing as she sat on her couch just hours ago, turning the events of their meeting over and over again in head, as if it was a coin in her hand.

“It was just…easy. Peaceful.” He smiled sheepishly. She relaxed into the couch. Peace. It was all she ever wanted in life and she tried tirelessly to keep control of it, to stuff it in a cage and keep it locked up so she could never feel its absence again. With him sitting in her apartment in front of her, she felt like she didn’t even have to try to reach out and grab it, it ran into her arms like a friend.

“I thought the same thing,” she admitted as she fought a smile rising on her lips. The man in front of her didn’t try to hide his relief or the upturn of the corner of his lips.

“That’s relieving.”

“Agreed.”

They smiled at each other for a moment, both in a daze. “I guess we should do a proper greeting this time,” he suggested, holding out his hand in front of her.

She took it with a grin. “Hi, I’m y/n.”

“Hi y/n, I’m Spencer.”

363 notes · View notes

darlingofvalyria · 8 months

Text

❝I am not a Valyrian Sex God.❞

part 03 | pucker up, buttercup

chapter summary:

[ The line of friendship dances in uncertain waters when you and Aemond play the fake dating game a little too well. Helaena reveals much more than meets the eye to Aegon, and vice versa. Oh, and Alys. Hi Alys! ]

[ 5,399 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— mostly fluff, a wee bit angsty, a little smutty - profanity, i swear a lot sorry too shhshs - no use of y/n - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— thank you so much for the love this little fic is getting so far!! it truly warms my heart that you people enjoy my twisty, crackpot humour and my version of a modern au for these characters!! as much as i am grateful for george for making these characters and these stories, i have to say what propelled me to write is the beautiful community i found. truly, from the bottom of my heart. ❥ fandom is built on community. i would not have had the courage to start writing fanfiction again if not for ya'll. so thank you so much. for the consumers and the creators. you, us, are the beating heart of fandom. please take care of each other. + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

"Please tell me I haven't inhaled so much drugs in my system that I am hallucinating our— and I say this with a lot love, okay you know what? No. Our Nasty Little Bitch of A Grudge Holder we call, lovingly, a brother, is not dating the hottest friend you have? Hel? The hottest friend you told me if I ever came anywhere near, you'd rip me a new asshole? How is Aemond's asshole still intact?? Or does our brother just have a gaping fun-house slide down there? Hello? Hellooo, pay attention to meee. This is so rude, why didn't I call Daeron?"

"Because Daeron knows nothing and I know everything?" Hel snorts, finishing up re-naming Aemond's contact from CURRENT DUMB BRO to NASTY LITTLE BITCH OF A GRUDGE HOLDER, before turning to Aegon on her laptop.

Like she predicted, Aegon is already pouting, leaning back on what Helaena remembers is their grandfather's rum-coloured leather office chair. In his office. In Oldtown.

After a quick stint in Ibiza, it seems Helaena's brother had found himself back in the country, and worse— back in their grandfather's office. Without him in it.

"Grandpa's going to kill you." Helaena snorts. "How'd you even get inside his house?"

"This is not the first time I have been faced with a locked door, baby sister."

"You broke a window didn't you?"

"I really, really had to piss."

She rolls her eyes. Hard. "You are a boy. You can literally just pee anywhere."

Aegon flutters a gasp and a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? I may have a penis, but that does not mean I have to be uncouth. For shame, Helaena. Also disgusting. But that's not why I called." He steeples his fingers as he leans forward, pressing his elbows against the nice mahogany desk. "What the fuck is happening over there? I'll be there by tomorrow and I'd like to know what the fuck is happening before I start—" he wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, " — shaking things up."

A dark look crosses Helaena's usually amiable pretty face that has Aegon leaning back. "If you do anything— and I mean anything — to ruin what I have going on, Mother may help you for I certainly won't. The Stranger will look like an old friend, Egg, don't you fucking dare."

"What the fuck," Aegon exhales, wide-eyed and horrified. "Have you been watching M. Night Shyamalan movies again?"

"No," she lies. "I'm doing this for my OTP."

"Oh my god, you're the one who roped them together?" Aegon strangles a sigh. "Lae-lae, we've talked about this. No matter how much you think they're cute, Aemond—"

"— Aemond and Alys broke up."

"Then they'll be together again before the weekend's out." Aegon rolls his eyes. "It's Aemond."

"Not like this." Hel shakes her head. "I got her to agree, Egg. And they're like... Gods, the pictures don't do them justice. They're magnetic. They make plans at the apartment, Aemond is there all the time— my OTP is happening."

"You are playing god between two people you care about."

"What else am I supposed to do?! They're obviously so hot for each other, and now that Alys is out of the picture, and she's there, right in front of him, Egg, you should see how it is between them. The energy. It's crackling. They have inside jokes, they're so comfortable with each other, and I will have the most beautiful nephew and niece—"

"—Helaena Targaryen," Aegon admonishes with finality. Hel quiets. Often times, the siblings forget Aegon is quintessentially the oldest sibling. They had never been close to their father's actual firstborn— the age gap is wide and there's just... too much complicated family fissures in between that it feels awkward, even when they're relationship is okay, to interact or consider Rhaenyra anything past a cousin you see every other holiday because you have to, much less now that their father's dead — so Aegon is their big brother.

And though they see it in bits, in flung comet pieces that you see preciously once every few hundred years— the vibe of big brother grasps the edges and reminds the younger siblings.

Sure, he's a dick. Sure, he's a whore. Sure, he's their mother's least and most favourite headache— but Aegon is their big brother.

"You cannot play puppeteer like this. This can blow up in their faces. And they care for each other. Their friends. If this blows up in their faces, it is going to hurt."

"I know that," Helaena says quietly, pout pinched but face mostly cleared. "You don't think I don't know?"

"I think you've already outweighed your chances and your choosing a possibility."

Helaena looks truly scolded at that point, and it juts a guilt down Aegon's stomach. But Aegon likes you. Maybe not like in the way that his brother likes you— in that intense, possessive way he gets with people and things he care about because there are so few of them — but he likes you. And he loves Aemond on a bad day, and likes him on a good one.

And Aegon knows, as a superior power about crashing and burning, that this is going to hurt both of you in ways that he truly doesn't think Helaena understands.

Because he isn't blind (as his brother) (bad joke?) (probably) to what he sees in Aemond's gaze when it looks at you. Sure it's possessive, sure it's the same way he looks at most people he keeps close to his heart.

But he was the one who saw how Aemond looked at you before Alys came into the picture. Before it morphed into nothing but platonic; morphed close to how he looks at Helaena. In that soft, I'm So Glad This Person Exists I Would Kill Literally Everyone For Them.

Aegon always thought he looked at you like he wanted to devour you. Etch you into his skin until your shape is in red marks across white plane. He looked at you like I Would Kill Myself If You Asked.

It was the possibility of devotion dipped in insanity. Aemond had so few things, much less people, who so vocally, physically, and emotionally cared for him without addendums.

The only real reason he never did anything before was because you were Helaena's best friend. Helaena loved you. And he couldn't destroy that alongside the fact that you might leave his side.

And then Alys happened and that focal point moved.

Aegon knew his brother. Not as intensely, and maybe that's the reason he could see it. To see clearly past the intensity and recognise its edges. Aegon knew his brother in his marrow.

"When this crashes and burns—"

"If!" Helaena quips stubbornly. "If it crashes and burns. Come home. You'll see, Egg. Aemond just needs to see."

"And what if she doesn't reciprocate, Lae-lae? She's not hard to love, and this is Aemond." Even Helaena knows his feelings, once taken root in whatever form, can blossom.

Helaena smiles softly. "Come home. You'll see. I can see it. I've seen it. The possibility of them, and it's so pretty, Egg."

It's really not all that pretty, fake dating.

Maybe it could be, but Aemond Targaryen is such an ass.

"This is not like The Devil Wears Prada fashion montage," you grumble, pinching off the big, 60s, yellow sunglasses off your nose to glare pointedly at the man sat on lounge chair. "All the zippers and tugging— this is not as pretty! And I look ridiculous! I don't wear dresses like these, Aemy!"

"You don't look ridiculous, you look like my girlfriend." He makes his emphasis with an inch raised eyebrow and pouty lips twitching not to laugh. "That's the point, is it not?"

You make a drawl huff. It's not just that his words were right— that's what the past hour has been, roaming around all these big named fashion brands where the staff just knows Aemond Targaryen, if not just by him sauntering in with all the swagger of an asshole you'd walk the other side of the street to ignore, then by the flash of his black card (or three, 'cause what the fuck is money to Targaryens holy shit) — but the way he's sitting as he appraises every look he's chosen for you.

He's lax, as could be in his usually perfect posture, with his hips in the middle, and one leg braced down whilst the other is raised to his other thigh. A confident man's sitting position, with an arm over the length of the sofa, balancing a champagne a trying-to-suppress-her-giddiness staff gave him.

At your disapproved glare— down on your nose at him because you're standing over him, lording over him, as he's sitting down — and he's smirking up at you. As if the power dynamics don't shift by whoever is looming over the other.

Aemond doesn't need to stand to make you feel all fluttery with a smirk and a strong gaze against your body. His eyes gaze from the bottom of your heeled toes, slow, slow, slow, until it reached the top of your head.

Surely you've only imagined his gaze lingering on certain parts of you that now felt hot and tingly.

Surely.

"Plus," he continues with a hum. A sip of champagne. "Isn't this your idea?"

"Yes, but—"

"Didn't you tell me that I should prepare the kind of outfits that Aemond Targaryen's girlfriend would wear—"

"Yes, but I—"

He leans forward, taking pleasure in arguing with you, as he settles his elbows on his knees, pressing both of his feet flat on the tile. He's looking up, still, but his eyes are intense and the corner of his mouth is twitching from a grin he's trying to fight.

"And even when I told you that didn't matter, that whatever you wore would be fine, you insisted?"

"Because I thought it'd be fun!" you growl and he falls in faint, amused laughter. His eye is sparkling and there's a joy to him that makes you giddy. You truly have missed Aemond as you know him. "Because I wanted a fun dress-up montage, but nothing about this is fun! Why are you choosing so many goddamned zippers, and they're all so fucking tight?"

You plop beside him, stealing his champagne. Staff look away, trying not to ogle too much between you two. As you take sips of his drink, his hand, still over the sofa's arm, begin drawing idle circles on your exposed shoulders. It warms you and calms you down, melting further in the seat beside him.

"I liked the dresses," he finally murmurs. "The ones before this. The flowy fabric ones."

"Those are summer dresses," you say though don't know why.

"Hm," he hums. "You look pretty in them."

You look up at him and he's looking at you, a small smile on his face. The proximity is too near to be proper but not near enough if you're fake dating. You study his silver lashes and the scarred flesh.

"Thanks."

"We'll get them. Is that alright with you?"

You snort softly. "You're paying, Aemy. You can do whatever you want. Can't believe this is how your dates with Alys usually went."

Hatching plans meant unloading information about his former relationship with her. Going through their relationship so you could understand it better, better proportioned the good and the bad, and secretly, make him see the red flags that should jump out in clear, plastic red.

"Not at first." He's looking away now, but his finger is still drawing circles. There's a wistful tone to his voice, like seeing through a dream and a memory. "But when it got... bad, it seemed like the only time we weren't fighting was when we were in public. Almost subconsciously, whenever things got tensed, I'd offer to take us out. Do anything outside of our bubble. Money isn't an issue, and before Alys said she felt like a... cheap whore than a girlfriend, buying things for her, spending time looking through things to wear, to match almost, was safe."

"Gift Giving," you mutter with a nod. He turns.

"What was that?"

"A love language." He cocks his head. You sigh. "I mean it's stupid and not really theoretically accurate, but for fun, there's five types of love languages. People do this test thing and sort of box up the kind of love language you want to receive and what you give— but truly, in my opinion, a true kind of love demands all five for it to work."

He hums, intrigued. "And what are the five?"

"Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Physical Touch, Acts of Service, Gift Giving. But, you know, all of those should be given by a partner, in increments they can do for you. There shouldn't be a boxed fixture of what your relationship could be."

You shrug, standing up and stretching. You don't see him looking at you in the way that he has been for the past few days, and he doesn't know the tingles and feelings you keep between a smile and a sigh.

"Love looks different for everyone but it should have the same concept."

"And what concept is that?"

You turn to him, smiling. "That if you truly love someone, you can try anything. Love doesn't demand things that you do for the simple reason that you love the person enough."

"Love can be complicated," he says, and he's not arguing, not really. He isn't begging for you to understand. He is simply saying.

"Love can," you agree. "As most things are complicated. But it doesn't have to hurt."

It's a boundary line, the way he blinks, remembering why you're here together, why he gets to touch you in intimate ways, why he gets to pay for clothes, why you spend this time with him. A jolt. A shock.

You don't press and he doesn't retreat. The line exists not just to remind, but to stabilise any projections. Any dangerous tones.

You simply smile, nodding at the time. "Dinner date, babycakes. We can't be late for reservations."

"We can be late for a few minutes," he says, remembering echoes of how Alys sometimes got late. It isn't really her fault; there are days when she's too busy at the law firm, too busy with a meeting or two, or still finishing up her makeup because she doesn't like going to dinner in her work clothes.

"Sure, but we're here together and I know how much you hate being late." You snort.

"I don't hate it."

"Sure, but you got that eye twitch you do when you're annoyed," you tease, tapping your own eye before you wink at him and skip away.

For the past few days since the bar incident, by your suggestion, you and Aemond had pour out the intricacies of how Aemond and Alys' relationship worked whilst hiding your true intention of making him see its faults and corners, and at the same time, continue on with the charade of dating him.

It's been a packed week or so, going to your shifts at the bar, meeting with Cregan once and a while (boy had been busy, and he found the entire thing with Aemond incredibly hilarious).

You answered no question mark in regards on who the hand was, only sent a winky face or a kiss blowing emoji. You continue to post minute representations of your no-longer-single status in brief intervals, making sure that you never name him. You never publicly give him a recognisable body.

But for those that knew, knew.

It really wasn't that hard. There were only so much pale, toned hands, so much body builds you can hide with your hand covering his general face that you can hide without people making smart guesses. There wasn't a lot of pale, toned people around you after all.

But in your refusal to name him, the question continues, and so does Alys silent observation of every post. The only story she had liked had been the very first one.

You often wonder what she thinks, before your mind is devoured once again with everything else.

To be fair, as often as you had both been seeing each other lately— and it has been the most often you have been seeing of him — there were still things outside of Aemond and Helaena plans. And Aemond still had UNI to focus on.

"You know, I often forget you're still in university," you say now, comfortably warm in Aemond's car. All fresh leather seat and crisp new car smell despite knowing that Aemond's had this unit now for at least a year. He maybe rich, but he knew what he liked and took care of them.

He shoots you a quizzical look before looking back at the road. The city is bathed in a gorgeous stream of oranges and pinks, tie-dying glass buildings and bustle of city roads. When you look at him, you smile softly at how pretty the light hits him.

"Why is that? Do I look that young?"

"Your vibe is so old man on a nine to three, cigar breaks by four, and whiskey sours by seven pm."

He makes a disgruntled sound at the back of his throat. You laugh. "I would like to think it's my altruistic classicism. A timeless endeavour."

"Sure, old man," you tease then sigh. "Reality is, I'm so much older than you. I'm hanging out with a child. On my free day. Is this what it means to reach low status?"

"I am not a child." His reply is sharp, cutting, almost offended.

"You're in college."

"And of legal age? You're only four years older."

"Oh, right."

"What?"

You smirk at his dark look. "You like 'em way older."

His face, much like his gaze, heats up. You're imaging it when the ride turns red, the car slows to a stop, and he is looking at your lips. Surely it was, because you got transfixed with the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. A slow, tantalising movement.

It feels like an eternity stretched within three seconds. The light turns green and both of you turn away.

Well, there's been that. A few times. But it doesn't mean anything. Aemond is in that transition of trying to rid himself of bad habits, of being freshly single once again, and you know he and Alys get in on frequently. This had been a conversation a few days back, on a couch, smell of grease and pizza around the room while Murder She Wrote played in the background.

"Wait, wait, wait." You sat up, folding your legs underneath your butt, and giving Aemond your full attention with a little 'o' in your mouth.

"Wait!" Helaena calls playfully from her sway to the bathroom. "Imma pee!"

"Take care, my beloved!" you call back, before turning to Aemond with a big, Cheshire grin.

"Can we not dwell on it?" He's flustered but is trying not to show it, looking back to the TV as if he understood why there's a body on the plane.

But wine has been had, spilled and shared, and it's enough for you to grab that fluster and the topic, and smirked.

"No, no, we will talk about it. We shall! We must! Do you mean to tell me that by the end of it, most of the time, you two were just boning? Is Aemy, one of my favourite people in the world, a Valyrian Sex God?? Oh my god??"

"I am not a Valyrian Sex God."

"Okay, girly pop, please." You raised a hand in a 'talk to the hand' motion and he was smiling at you, entranced and frustrated. "Women talk, Aemy!"

There was a flush and Helaena came back. Wine did things to Helaena, and she was stumbling and giggling as she flopped behind you, turning around and encasing you in a koala hug.

"Women talk, baby bro." Helaena nodded sagely. "Even I try not to listen, they talk, alas."

"And Alys has said those hips—" You pointed a j'accuse finger at his hips, then his mouth. "—and that tongue has done things that can make the Maiden blush."

Helaena groaned behind you're back, a slew of 'ew's escaping her mouth. And you were still being playful, teasing, but Aemond was looking at you, though scarlet, with a deepened expression.

And at that moment, both of you were thinking the same thing.

His chin brushing your thighs, your sighs like music to his ears, and his tongue making you scream.

Warmth pooled, twin expressions share a gaze. Hunger, desire, shame.

The connection was destroyed when Helaena abruptly jolted and fell down the carpet. Because she was holding onto you, you got pulled with her.

"Are you okay??" Aemond asked.

Hel gasped. "I thought I saw Bobby. I think I squished Bobby."

You shook your head. "You didn't. Bobby is spry. Bobby knows to move away."

Aemond's confused face peered down at both of you. "Who's Bobby?"

"The local spider that lives here."

"Of course." And he smiled.

You smiled back.

Helaena giggled beside you but when you ask her, she only shook her head.

And the silence that lulls in the car is like both of you reaching the very same memory and having to sit through the stifle of that drunken interaction about his sex life. He coughs, you let out a breathy giggle.

"I should admit something," he says, parking the car in front of the restaurant. Dusk is settling, sunset in bright red and orange turning to a cool blue and pretty lavender— and when you turn to him after getting out of the car, coddling your jacket close to your body, he looks nervy. Apologetic, almost.

"What? What'd you do?"

He bites his bottom lip. "I know something about this restaurant."

"I would assume. You chose it." Your eyes narrow, giving the black-out floor to ceiling windows a look. The Painted Table is lit up in a scrawled font on top of it.

You step inside, not bothering to turn to his call of your name, and is submerged by the restaurant's vibe. It's a darkened place with meaningful lighting but a casual air, a bar on the side, and an upbeat jazzy music dancing in the air — it looks good. The place smelled delicious.

Nothing about it sparked familiarity to you, but the anticipation from that look of guilt on his face brought you to a high-strung, so when he calls your name again, just behind you, you turn.

"Is this where you had your first date with Alys?"

He shakes his head. "No. No, but—"

"Aemond?"

The voice is familiar, and you don't stop enough to think before you're turning to the low, clear voice that's just a hint of husky, and Alys' green eyes go wide at your appearance.

She's dressed nice, dressed to go out in a black dress dipping low and fabric tangled around her body to show off her curves. Her inky hair was swept to one side and her mouth was bloodred.

Alys Rivers, owner of Aemond's firsts. The woman he seemingly can't let go off.

You smile. It feels fake. "Oh. Hi Alys."

Her shock staves off into a genuine smile that makes you guilty. "Hi, my love. I see you two are together. Always attached at the hip. Dinner?"

Before you nod— or maybe strangle Aemond — he comes forward, taking your hand in the process and lacing it. He's looking at her as if he's setting a challenge when Alys' eyes fall on your intertwined hands.

"Yes," he says. "We are."

"Well... that's good. This place is great. I—" Someone calls her name, she turns back. You shoot Aemond a withering glare you hope conveys how much you're going to beat his ass after this. She turns back, smiling still. There's a pinch between her eyes but it's gone by the third blink. "Well, I have to go. I'll see you both soon, okay?" She turns to you, stepping forward, not minding the Targaryen beside you. "Especially you. We haven't hung out in a while."

"That's true, I've missed you, you crazy witch." And she laughs and you smile, because you genuinely consider Alys to be one of your friends. Not maybe as deeply as Helaena's, or as close, but Alys was an amazing person and you enjoy her company.

Plus, right now the one you're angry about it solely the man holding your hand.

Alys turns to Aemond, and he stiffens. Between them is a complicated look. So many things unsaid, before her smirk softens. "It's nice to see you too, Aemond."

And she turns away, walking back to her table, to her date, when you tug him with you to the bar. As you order a dry martini, he speaks. Calm and soft.

"You're mad at me."

"You knew she was going to be here." You turn to him, arching an eyebrow, hating the way your chest pangs. "You stalked her and brought us here because you wanted to use me."

He shifts, face crumples at the word 'use' and calls your name in a plead. "It's not like that."

You snort, taking a sip of your drink when it arrives. "Don't lie."

"Okay. Yes, I did. I... I made an impulsive decision because I wanted to see how she could go on a date as if we were nothing." Bitterness cripples his words, the smirk on his lips is ironic and darkened in hurt. Your heart hurts for him, but you can't give him a pass just like that. He hurt you too.

"You could've told me."

He raises an eyebrow. "You would be okay with this?"

Your own smile is ironic and darkened by hurt. "You're already using me, Aemy. That was the deal I agreed, for Hel. It would at least lick the wound to have been in the know, and not, you know, got shot in the face with it."

At the first part of your tirade, he looked like he wanted to argue with the using part, but the realisation weighs him because it is true. To him, he is using you. And it's a cheap shot on your part because you were also doing this for him, out of your own free will.

You sigh when he turns away, guilt dipping low.

"You're such a dumbass."

He hums in agreement.

You're aware of a gaze from the tables, somewhere in the ocean of jazz music and chatter, Alys is looking, and you kinda wanna make this good for him. You were already here after all.

Your hand reaches his jaw, sliding across his neck until you reach his nape and fingers tangle with the baby hairs there. His hair had been wrapped into a bun. Sleek and fluffy.

He turns to you, to your touch, in shock. "What are you—"

"Try not to look so surprised," you whisper, stepping close to him until your noses are bumping. "We're supposed to be dating."

And then you slant your mouth against his.

TAGGED: @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdegodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama

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entitled-fangirl · 2 months

Text

Two idiots in love. (P7)

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: Life in Jackson doesn't start out great, especially when Joel hears some rather life-altering news about the reader.

Warnings: cursing

Masterlist

Part 1 and 8

.......................................................................

Finally seeing people without fear was a strange feeling for Y/N.

She held on to Joel as their horse lightly pranced through town behind the others.

But her daydream slowly closed as she felt Joel pulled the reigns to a stop. His hand rose and his voice rang through the street, "Tommy!"

When the man who Y/N figured was Tommy looked up and them and began to approach, Joel immediately dismounted the horse.

They ran to each other and embraced with a laugh from Tommy.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I came here to save you."

The two immediately broke into laughter as they hugged each other once again.

…

The three ate like they had never seen food before.

As much as manners were important in context, they couldn't care less.

"There's more if you need it," Maria muttered.

Joel looked up finally, "Thank you, ma'am. It's been a while since we've had a proper meal."

Ellie nodded, "I don't think I've ever had a proper meal. This is fucking amazing."

"Jesus…" Y/N muttered. She turned to Tommy and Maria, "Sorry. Just… let's mind our manners?"

"Alright. But I want my gun back."

Maria leaned forward, "The kids here aren't armed."

Tommy interfered, "Listen, I think ya'll got off on the wrong foot."

Ellie yelled, "She was gonna have her guys kill us."

"Well," Tommy reasoned, "we gotta be careful who we let in this place. But it's all bark. We're just tryna scare off those who might wanna try us is all."

The tensions were rising.

Joel leaned forward, "Ma'am," he turned to Maria, "We're grateful for your hospitality and all. But it'd be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family."

Tommy's eyes widened just barely, "Well.. uh. Maria is family."

"Oh, shit!" Ellie sighed, "Congrats. Joel… say congrats."

That was the last thing Joel wanted to say.

His jaw clenched, "Congrats."

Y/N stayed silent, going back to her soup.

…

Y/N was the only one in the house when Joel opened the door.

Ellie had left to go to Maria's earlier while Y/N was showering.

And she had appreciated the alone time. After all, she hadn't gotten any in months.

But Joel was panicked and angry when he walked in.

"J…Joel?" Y/N asked.

He threw his gun down on the old dusty couch and let out a shuddered breath.

She dared to approach him, standing it front of the brick wall of a man.

"I just. I need some time, is all." Joel explained.

She nodded, moving to the kitchen to get him a drink.

When she returned with the glass of water, he was now sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. She sat the glass down in front of him carefully, and only when he heard her did he look up.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.

"No." He immediately replied.

She nodded again, ready to give him space, but when she moved away, his hand grabbed her wrist. "…Stay. Please."

Joel never says please.

Of course she would grant him this one thing.

She let him pull her to him, her body now resting is his lap.

Her fingers gently played with the scruff on his face and he closed his eyes in thought.

"Do you feel safe here?" Joel asked finally.

She leaned back at his question. "I… I don't know. I don't suppose I know what feeling safe is like anymore."

"Are you scared here, then?"

She let out a chuckle, "I'm always scared, Joel."

His eyes opened to look at her in confusion, "Even with me?"

Her silence told him enough.

"This isn't the place for us, Y/N."

She tilted her head, "Here? …with Tommy?"

He nodded, "We're leaving in the morning. We can't stay here. I can't stay here. Too crowded."

She let them sit in the silence before she let out a small, "Okay."

He let his lips pull into the smallest of smiles, running his fingers through her hair, "Was too mad when I walked in, I didn't even tell you how pretty ya look."

The woman's eyebrows furrowed. Her hair was still wet, and her clothing was a bit tighter than she would've liked but it was all they had. "You don't have to lie to me, Miller."

He laughed, "I'm serious, sweet girl." His fingers grazed her cheek. "I think you're beautiful."

She placed a soft kiss on his lips.

He pulled away with a smile, "Is that…" he sniffed her hair, "Coconut?"

She laughed, hitting his chest lightly, "You're ruining the moment."

He shrugged, "Sorry. Couldn't help myself. Haven't smelled that since…." He stopped.

Y/N couldn't sit there watching him relive memories, so she got up from his lap quickly. "Maria left you an outfit for when you're ready to change-"

"-What if I can't do it?"

She paused, "Do what, Joel?"

"Give you a family."

She took a step back, "W…what?"

He was deep in his thoughts. She could only tell by the way his eyes never met hers. "I had my chance, and I messed it up. My one chance at a family. Kids. I'm getting old, sweet girl. And there's no place to raise a child anytime soon. I think… by the time it could even be close to safe enough for you, we'll have missed our chance."

She was still shocked, not quite understanding him, "Do you… do you think that's what I want from you?"

He just nodded as his eyes finally met hers.

"No, Joel. I don't want a family. I fucked mine up, too. I could never… be a mother-"

"-Hey, don't say that-"

"-Let me finish, Joel." She huffed. "I'm not who I used to be. And…" She sighed, "It can't happen again."

He leaned back in thought, "What do you mean?"

"When I had Cam… they said it was a miracle that he made it. My anemia… I barely got us through. And I was in my prime, Joel. I don't want a family. I don't want... a fancy house with a wrap-around porch, or a car with real gas in it," she smiled, walking back towards him. She found her place on his lap once more, "I just want you, Joel Miller. Do you think maybe I could at least have that?"

His eyes studied her face in thought.

She took that as a sign and leaned in to connect their lips once more.

But he didn't reciprocate. She felt him stiffen as his grip tightened around her.

She leaned back with a worried gaze.

"Get up…" he murmured.

She leaned down slightly to catch his eye-line. "What, Joel?"

"Get up!" He suddenly yelled.

Her body involuntarily jumped up in fright.

He stood, grabbing his jacket and shrugging it on. His voice was rushed and desperate. She knew he was having a panic attack. "I'm sorry, sweet girl. I can't give you a good life. You don't deserve this. I can't keep dragging you around."

"Stop. You're not dragging me, Joel. Just stay."

"No!" He demanded, "I… I have to go think."

The door slammed behind him as Y/N let out a frustrated sigh.

…

"I shouldn't have said what I said," Tommy reasoned to Joel in the shop. "I know you're happy for me. It's just… complicated for you. I'm sorry."

Joel stared at the ground in frustration.

Tommy leaned against the table in front of him, "Can I ask about her?"

"About who?"

"The woman."

Joel's jaw clenched slightly, but he couldn't deny his brother. "Y/N. She-"

"Y/N?" Tommy interrupted. "Tess' sister?"

"Yeah?"

"Wow," Tommy sighed, "Didn't think you'd get her to stick around. Been what? 5 years?"

"6 1/2 now."

Tommy nodded, "And… is she…?"

Joel frowned, "Is she what?"

"Is she yours, Joel?"

The older brother leaned forward on his stool, "What difference does it make?"

Tommy looked up with a sigh, "I have some… information. About her. I can keep it forever and let you continue to live with no knowledge, or I can tell you now and let you decide what to do with it."

"What kind of information?"

"Do you want to know or not, Joel?"

Joel let out a sigh of thought. Right when he thought he knew everything about that girl, she continued to be an enigma.

"Just tell me."

Tommy nodded, "Well.. this isn't… easy stuff to hear by any means…"

"Spit it out, Tommy."

"Alright, Jesus," Tommy exclaimed. "Y/N's family is here. In Jackson."

Joel's face dropped. "What? What family?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "A father and his boy. The boy is probably… I don't know… 20?"

Cam.

Oh, god. Cam was in Jackson after all this time.

"Are you sure?"

"Joel. I'm telling you what I know. A few years ago, this man came in with the boy. They're blood-related. I asked. Said they were father and son. Long story short, I'm friends with the man. I got him drunk one evening and he told me about this girl he knocked up in high school. I didn't connect everything he told me to Y/N until I saw her earlier today. So, for your sake, I hope I'm wrong."

"What's the boy's name?"

"Joel, c'mon."

"The. Name. Tommy."

Tommy sighed, "Cameron."

Jesus Christ.

"Alright." Joel nodded. "When are you gonna tell the others?"

"Hey," Tommy stepped back with his hands up, "This is none of my business. I'm leaving this shit with you. Whatever you two have is entirely yours, alright? If you wanna tell her, be my guest. If not, no one will know. Okay?"

Joel scoffed, "Why wouldn't I tell a mother her child is alive, Tommy? What the fuck?"

"I thought that too, at first. But, you tell Y/N, and suddenly she has a family. A husband and a kid. And you and Ellie are replaced."

Joel's teeth began to hurt from his clenched jaw.

"Now, if it was me," Tommy continued, "It would hurt to tell Maria, but I'd do it if I knew it would guarantee her happiness. But you're not me, Joel. And honestly, this is the last chance you'll ever get at a family. The ball is in your court now."

The tension in the room was becoming unbearable.

Joel hadn't considered this outcome at all. If Cam was alive, how did he get here? And how did the father find him? What if Tommy is wrong, and he could get Y/N's hopes up only to drag her back down into what she was when he was taken the first time. He had an important decision to think on. But he couldn't. So, he changed the subject.

"This ride to the University, is it a suicide mission?"

"No. Not for you. We've had people go out there and come back. What is this, Joel?"

"Ellie is immune."

"What?"

"The girl is immune."

Tommy pulled out a stool and sat in front of Joel, "From the beginning."

..........................................................

Taglist: @lover-of-books-and-tea, @pedropascalfan221, @lottieellz101, @bambisweethearts, @hiroikegawa, @elliaze, @littleshadow17, @n7cje

#joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #joel miller #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou imagine #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic

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imaginesandsmut · 9 months

Text

Jealous - Kate Bishop

Pairing: Kate Bishop x fem reader

Summary: After a movie night at your place, Kate gets jealous of how friendly and close one of your friends’ is to you. She gets jealous and decides to show you that you belong to her

Warnings: straight up porn with a sprinkle of a plot

Writers note: This was a request and I love lesbian recs so keep them coming. I will do a part 2 to So Good (my Ethan Landry fic) so dw, it's coming. Thank you ya'll xx

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I turn my cheer music up

And I'm puffing my chest

I'm getting red in the face

You can call me obsessed

It's not your fault that they hover

I mean no disrespect

It's my right to be hellish

I still get jealous

Jealous - Nick Jonas

Kate hated you sometimes.

You were so happy and light, everyone wanted to be around you. Kate couldn’t blame them, her girl was the kindest social butterfly anyone has ever seen.

But that means Kate had competition to fight off.

She has been watching you talk to your university friend, Ben, for almost an hour now. It was movie night at your place: You, Kate, Ben and three of your other friends had watched the whole Twilight series.

It was now 11pm and and everyone had gone home, but Ben decided to have another conversation with you at the front door. Kate had been watching you both from the couch, waiting for you to say goodbye and slam the door on his face, but you kept laughing.

Kate felt anger bubble in her chest, there was a part of her that wanted to slam Ben’s head into the doorframe if he didn’t leave in the next five minutes.

“No but seriously!” You laughed, leaning against the open door that you had opened for Ben almost thirty minutes ago. “I swear that professor is out to get me.”

“I’m sure he isn’t.” Ben chucked, his eyes hopeful.

But he could feel Kate's presence, her narrow eyes trained on him as her arms were crossed over her heavy breathing chest. Ben’s eyes darted to where Kate sat then back to you, his nerves growing by the second.

“You’re too nice,” You were ever the oblivious. “but he most definitely is.”

“No one can hate you.”

That made something snap in Kate, it was as if Ben said the worst words possible in that situation.

Who even was he? Why did he have that look in his eyes? Did you want him to look at you this way?

Kate's mind was racing as she pushed herself off from the couch and walked to the front door, standing behind you, her body pressing into your back.

“Thank you so much, Ben.” Kate forced a smile onto her face, it came out menacing and Ben felt small. “We hope you have a good night.”

“Oh.” Ben’s eyes were filled with fear and remorse, he looked at you for some sort of rebuttal.

You side-eyed Kate, confused at her hostility towards your friend but you didn’t want to fight it. You knew Kate, you knew that the black haired girl would only make things worse if you didn’t console her.

“See ya, Ben.” You smiled and let the boy walk out the door, waving happily. “Have a safe drive home.”

Ben smiled meekly. The image of you waving warmly and with a beaming smile on your face, and then Kate's taller figure looming over your shoulder, a dark look on her face as the boy walked to his car scared him.

You closed the door and turned to Kate quickly, crossing your arms over your chest and cocking your head to the side.

“Okay, what was that?”

"What?” Kate said as sarcastically as she could. “Did I interrupt something?”

Kate walked to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water. You followed her, trailing after the hostile girl.

“Are you ok? What happened?” You asked, your voice full of concern.

"What do you mean? Nothing happened. You can leave and get back to talking with your best friend Ben if you want" Kate spat over her shoulder, her body facing the sink and away from you.

You pulled a sour face at her comment, "What's that supposed to mean?"

“Seemed like you were having a good time with him, sorry I ruined it.” Kate turned round to face you, the kitchen sink pressed against her back.

"Excuse me? Why are you angry at me for talking to my friend in my own house?” You huffed back.

"I’m not angry."

"Then why are you upset?"

"I'm not upset!" Kate shouted. She had never shouted at you like this before; she has ignored or rebuffed you if she's angry, but never yelled.

You watched her, the way Kate's chest rose and fell quickly, the red hue across her cheeks, and the way that she avoided all eye contact.

"You’re not jealous are you?" You hid your smile.

Kate looked up at you, she pulled a questioning face, almost as if she was offended by what you said.

"No, I'm not jealous” Her eyes were sharp and steady, you tried to stay strong under the gaze.

"You’re jealous, why?" You said bluntly, forcing an answer out of her.

“Fucking hell,” Kate was getting nervous under the pressure, “just drop it, okay?”

“No, I don’t wanna drop it.”

“Seriously, Y/N.” The archer threw her head back, looking up at the ceiling. “Leave it.”

“I’m not doing that.” Your foot tapped on the tiles in your kitchen, irritating Kate even more. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

Kate sighed, moving to stand closer to her. She dropped her arms from being across her chest to staying by her side, opening up her posture.

“I’m not stupid Y/N, and neither is he." Kate let out, letting go of the breath in her chest. "He likes you and obviously thinks you like him too. And maybe you do.”

“Ben doesn’t like me.” You looked at Kate with full sincerity, like you genuinely believed your words.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Kate could almost laugh at how blind you were.

You didn’t know what Kate was talking about, your friendship with Ben is nothing more than that, a friendship. Kate's annoyance at it, after only witnessing it for one night, was annoying too. You just wanted her to get along with your friends, but now she was picking fights.

“I just,” Kate brought her hands up to rub her face, “I don't like the way he looks at you. He’s got this look in his eye, and it pisses me off.”

“Why?”

“Cause I don’t want anyone looking at you like that.”

“Like what?” You had a feeling that you knew already, but you wanted to hear it come from Kate.

“The way that I look at you.” Kate said it through gritted teeth, as if it pained her to be vulnerable. “Like he wants you in the same way I want you.”

It was music to your ears, the exact words you wanted to hear. Seeing the archer stand in front of you with a desperate look in her eyes, it did something to you.

You stepped forward and put Kate's hands on your hips, putting your own hands on her shoulders.

“And how do you want me?”

You inwardly cringed at your choice in words but Kate seemed to like it, her eyes going dark and mouth falling open as she dumbly took in the change in atmosphere. The girl slowly nodded her head before attaching her lips to your neck, her hands tightening around your waist.

Kate's breath got heavier the longer she sucked and bit your neck, you threaded your fingers into Kate's dark locks and tugged.

“I want you on the couch.”

You could have came at Kate's voice, how low and raspy it was. Her strong hands began pushing you towards the couch, her lips ghosting over yours but not letting you close the gap, pulling back and chuckling every time you tried to lean up and press your lips together.

Your legs hit the back of the couch and you fell onto the soft fabric, a sound of surprise leaving your mouth. You took a moment to see Kate's body standing over you, how weak you looked and felt in comparison to the superhero in front of you.

Kate reached out and held your jaw, forcing you to look up at her face.

“So pretty.”

You groaned softly at the compliment, your eyebrows drawing together as the sudden urge to have Kate's body on yours took over you. Although Kate had every physical advantage over you, being so strong and lean, she was always gentle and careful with how she held you.

“My pretty girl,” Kate laughed softly at your face before kneeling in front of you, “I’ll make you feel good, yeah?”

Kate's calloused hands dragged up and down your bare thighs, stopping when she reached the hem of your shorts and then dragging back down again.

“Are you going to do somethin-“

Kate cuts you off, closing the distance between your lips. You kissed her back, loving the way she melts and goes slack against you. Kate's lips are soft and sweet, tasting just like the sweets you both had eaten during the night. She breaks away and goes to kissing your neck and further down.

You started bucking your hips when Kate kissed the top of your thighs, begging for more contact. Kate's fingers curled around the waistband of your shorts, dragging them down along with your underwear.

“Kate.” You moaned it out into the silent air around you, your head thrown back to rest on the back of the couch.

“Mhm?” Kate touched her lips lightly to your inner thigh, nipping the skin then pressing soft kisses over the hurt skin.

Your hands covered your face, trying to calm your erratic breathing as your lust was taking over your body.

“You're so wet," Kate whispers with a shiver, her brain fogging with thick desire. "You look amazing, bet you taste even better."

She presses another kiss on your thigh, higher now, her face now buried between your legs. Kate clasps her arms around your legs, pulling them to rest on her shoulders. Her hands feel their way up underneath your shirt, groping your boobs and pinching your nipples. Kate's mouth devours your pussy, sucking and licking with a newfound fever.

Your fingers clench around Kate's dark hair, pulling it tightly, and Kate groans.

Fuck, how can giving someone else pleasure make her feel so good.

Kate uses a free hand to grab a pillow from the couch and places it between her legs, grinding down on the plush as she wraps her lips around your clit. The feeling of her own pussy grinding on the pillow whilst she ate you out made her moan uncontrollably, the vibrations almost sending you over the edge.

You moaned and began grinding yourself onto Kate's face, pulling on the black strands of hair to try and drag Kate's face closer to you.

"I like that," Kate says in a ragged breath. "Do it again. Harder.”

You looked down and cocked your eyebrow, lips parted to try and get as much air into your lungs, but you don't move. So Kate digs her fingers deeper into your thighs, face lifted towards you, lips parted and covered in your slick.

"Do it again," she whispers. "Please."

The plea is soft and quiet, it makes Kate feel ridiculous, it makes her feel desperate. You stopped breathing for a brief moment. Watching Kate be so sweet, a stark contrast between this Kate and the girl that hated was just yelling and being rude almost gave you whiplash.

“Apologise.”

You had never been one to be dominant or demanding, but the look of Kate begging in between your legs drew something out of you. Even Kate looked confused, her eyebrows knitting together. She was normally the one to demand things from you.

“Apologise for being mean to me.” Your eyes were dark, a sight Kate had never seen before but needed more of. “Beg for my forgiveness.”

Kate didn’t do anything at first, although she desperately wanted to continue her actions on you and for you to keep pulling her hair, she couldn’t give into you so easily.

But god she wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” the words were soft and sultry, “I’m sorry, baby. Please. Please keep pulling my hair. I’m so sorry for being mean.”

As Kate whispered the words, her hands kept rubbing your thighs, her lips ghosting over the skin as she spoke the slutty words.

It was enough for you, you smiled and almost felt bad for how needy Kate looked. Your fingers grasp a fistful of Kate's hair and you tugged it, drawing Kate's head backward. The archer couldn't help the long, deep moan she lets out.

"Fuck.” Kate pants, because it's all too hot and she feels like she's suffocating, but still she needed more.

Kate's slim fingers stroke your clit, pushing two fingers inside you and making you cry out.

"I want to be yours.” She whispers, thrusting her fingers in and out. You whimpered as Kate scissored them inside you, back arching off the couch

“You are mine.” You gasped as Kate added another finger, speeding up her thrusting. Her digits brush up against that one spot inside you and you arch your back, crying out loudly as the band inside you snapped. You moan through your orgasm, tears slipping from your eyes.

"So messy for me.” Kate moans, bringing her fingers into her mouth and sucking your juices off them.

Kate stands up and pushes you to rest on the couch, coming to hover over your body. Your chests connect and Kate's fingers go back to your clit, circling and trying to draw out another orgasm from you.

You whimper at the overstimulation, but still you draw Kate in and kiss her, mouths open and sloppy against each other.

'Fuck, you're so hot.” Kate pants, roughly pushing two fingers inside her own pants and into her dripping cunt, thrusting them furiously above you.

She moans your name breathily, a thumb pressing onto her clit as she desperately tries to make herself come. Her knees are shaking as she quickens her fingers on your clit and her other hand thrusting into her own needy pussy. She was so close, so close that it hurt.

“Let me.” You sigh, quickly replacing Kate's fingers with your own. You work on her, touching all the right spots and making her come almost instantaneously.

Kate's now free hand goes to rest on the arm of the couch above your head, her other hand pressed harder and faster on your clit. You both worked in a lust filled fever to get each other off.

You smiled at how needy Kate was, eyes squeezed shut as she rocked herself on your hand. She was so sensitive, it was too easy. The feeling of your fingers in her was what she had been craving the whole night, and as soon as her slim fingers entered her, Kate had moaned loudly. So loud that your were afraid your neighbours could hear you both through the house walls.

You came just after Kate, your own orgasm drawing another moan from your throat. The shaking feeling of coming down from your second high made you instantly tired. Kate collapses forward, her orgasm overwhelming her.

Kate rests her head on your chest, looking up at you with every ounce of love in her body. All she wanted to do was make you feel good, to try and prove to you why you should choose her, be hers and hers only. It was selfish, her reasons, but seeing the look on your face, she didn’t care.

“You're mine - mine only.” Kate said it softly, almost like she didn’t want you to even hear her.

You were so blissed out, too dumb to say anything. Instead you just nodded your head and kissed Kate's head, your hand going up to cup the archer's face and stroking her cheek with your thumb.

"Okay, jealous girl."

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