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#AND TRYING TO WORK WITH LITTLE TO NOTHING !!
pucksandpower · 2 days
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Say My Name
Oscar Piastri x streamer!Reader
Summary: when fans mistake Oscar for your ex while he is hanging around in the background of your stream, you get introduced to a side of Oscar that you’ve never seen before
Warnings: 18+ content
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Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you narrate the intense battle unfolding on your stream. “Oh damn, that was close! I almost got sniped there.” You lean in, eyes narrowed at the screen. “Gotta be more careful or this round is over.”
The chat explodes with messages cheering you on. Being one of the top female gaming streamers has its perks, like an incredibly loyal fanbase that hangs on your every word.
You glance at the viewer count — over 50,000 watching live. Not too shabby.
“Okay team, let’s rush B, I’ll try to draw their fire.” You move your character into position, heart pounding with anticipation.
Suddenly, a quiet thump comes from the living room behind you. You start, whipping your head around, but see nothing amiss through the open doorway. Must have been your imagination.
You refocus on the game, calling out tactics to your teammates. Another muffled sound, like something soft hitting the floor, catches your attention. You turn off your video and hit mute on your mic. “Hello? Is someone there?”
No response. You’re just about to unmute when a very familiar face pops into view from the hallway. It’s your boyfriend of nearly two years.
Your face splits into a huge grin as you take in his messy hair and the rumpled clothes he slept in on the flight. “Oscar! You’re back early!”
He crosses to you, bending to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Missed you,” he mumbles against your hair.
You tilt your face up for a proper kiss, “I missed you too, ba-”
But you’re cut off as his lips crash into yours, insistent and heated. Heat blooms in your cheeks at the sudden, passionate embrace. Far too soon, Oscar pulls away, leaving you flustered and breathless.
“Sorry,” he says with a smirk that suggests he’s anything but. “Couldn’t help myself.”
You shake your head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous. I’m working, you know.”
“So I noticed.” Oscar settles onto the couch just off-camera, casual as can be. “Don’t mind me, keep going.”
“You sure?” You eye him skeptically. The stream has been on a short period without your commentary and the chat is getting restless. “I can take a break if you want.”
He waves a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’m just going to hang out here for a bit. Go ahead.”
Hesitating only a moment, you turn your video back on and unmute your mic. “Alright folks, sorry about that little pause. I, uh, got a surprise visitor.” You gesture vaguely toward where Oscar lounges behind you.
The chat instantly lights up with questions about who was there. Smiling to yourself, you ignore them for now, re-focusing on the game.
Over the next hour, it becomes increasingly difficult to concentrate. Oscar keeps distracting you, making silly faces and gestures whenever you glance his way. More than once you have to stifle a laugh after catching sight of him. Your fans seem to find your giggly mood delightful, though they remain oblivious to the cause.
Finally, in a rare break between matches, you swivel in your chair to face him. “You’re being so disruptive,” you stage-whisper. “Don’t you have better things to do than pester me?”
Oscar feigns innocence. “Who, me? I’m just sitting here, love.”
Rolling your eyes, you stretch your arms overhead with a groan, back popping from sitting so long. Oscar’s gaze shamelessly rakes over you, darkening.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you mutter, fighting a smile.
“Like what?” His eyes glint with mischief.
You open your mouth to respond, but a new donation notification pops up on your stream, cutting you off. “Oh, wow, thanks for the ten thousand bits, Legend27!” The expensive donation isn’t that unusual, but the comment attached gives you pause.
I’m so happy you and Eric made up! You two are couple goals for real.
Frowning, you scan the new barrage of messages flooding the chat … and find dozens echoing similar sentiments.
Your stomach drops as you finally realize what your viewers think is happening. They assume Oscar is actually your ex, the one you briefly dated and had an awful breakup with over two years ago. Apparently his surprise appearance has led them to believe you two have reconciled.
Heat floods your face at the misunderstanding. Objecting seems pointless though — you’ve learned it’s better not to discuss your private romantic life on stream. “Ah, thanks guys, you’re too kind,” you finally say, aiming for a neutral tone.
Beside you, Oscar stiffens, catching the implications of the messages. His jaw clenches and you watch as his face cycles through a series of micro-expressions — first surprise, then confusion, quickly followed by displeasure and … jealousy?
Uh oh. This could get messy fast if he gets worked up. You try to subtly shake your head at him in a silent plea to ignore the chat.
No such luck. His brow furrows deeper and you can practically see the tension ratcheting up in his shoulders.
Suddenly, Oscar surges to his feet with a muttered curse. Before you can react, he’s stalking around the side of your chair until he’s directly in view of the camera’s frame.
“Oscar, what are you-”
But he cuts you off by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you hard. Your startled squeak is smothered by his fierce, possessive mouth moving over yours.
Powerless to resist the onslaught of sensations, you melt bonelessly against him as the kiss stretches on and on. Only the escalating number of notifications showing the shock and exclamations from your viewers finally breaks through the heady fog.
With extreme reluctance, Oscar ends the kiss, both of you panting. He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your flushed skin as he growls, “She’s mine.”
Then, before you can respond, he reaches past you and slams his palm into the power button of your streaming setup, shutting everything down.
The simultaneous howl of outrage from tens of thousands of confused fans cuts off abruptly as the screen goes black. Only the two of you are left in the ringing silence that follows.
“Oscar!” You finally manage. “What was that?”
He pulls away enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze, his brown eyes blazing with an intensity that steals your breath.
“I got … jealous,” he admits, seeming almost surprised at his own vehement reaction. “When they thought I was your ex. I didn’t like that at all.”
Your expression softens at his uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. Reaching out, you trace his sharp cheekbone with gentle fingers. “You have no reason to be jealous, silly man. It’s only ever been you.”
Some of the blazing heat in his stare banks into smoldering embers at your reassurance. “Yeah?” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Good.”
He leans in again until his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. “Because you’re mine, okay? And I’m yours.”
“Yeah,” you breathe out, dizzy with wanting him. “I’m all yours, Oscar.”
The possessive words seem to flip a switch in him. With a low, rumbling sound of approval, his mouth slants over yours once more in a searing, demanding kiss that makes your toes curl.
The abrupt ending to your stream is already causing a social media firestorm of epic proportions. But surrounded by the circle of Oscar’s arms, his familiar warmth and love, you can’t find it in yourself to care even a little bit.
After all, you think dizzily as he deepens the kiss, your fans should have recognized that you two were a couple from the very start — because Oscar Piastri is most definitely not your ex.
He’s your everything.
***
Oscar’s hands are everywhere, seemingly unable to get enough of you as his kisses grow more and more fervent. Your back hits the wall with a gentle thump as he crowds closer, caging you in with the solid warmth of his body.
“Missed you so much, love,” he rasps against the heated skin of your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
A whimper escapes your lips at the scorching path his mouth blazes over your pulse point. “I m-missed you too, Oscar.”
His name falls from your lips like a prayer and he rewards you by sucking a mark into the sensitive spot just below your ear. Pleasure zings along your nerves at the hint of delicious possession in the act.
When he finally pulls back to gaze at you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips are reddened from enthusiastic use. The sight sends a molten flare of desire arrowing straight to your core.
“Say it again,” he commands roughly, voice gone low and gritty in that way that never fails to make you melt.
You blink up at him, momentarily lost in a lust-fueled haze. “W-What?”
“My name.” His large hands skim over the curve of your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt. “Say my name again.”
“Oscar,” you breathe without hesitation, watching raptly as his pupils blow wider at the sound. “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...”
Each breathy iteration seems to stoke his hunger hotter. His fingers flex against your sides like he’s holding himself back from something.
On a daring whim, you slant your mouth near his ear, letting your lips brush the shell with every word. “Oscar Piastri,” you practically purr. “My Oscar.”
A broken groan is your only warning before he���s on you again, mouths crashing together in a heated crash of lips, teeth, and tangling tongues. His hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck, angling your face for deeper exploration.
When you finally manage to tear your lips away, you’re both panting harshly, chests heaving. “What’s … gotten into you?” You pant.
Rather than answer, Oscar just shakes his head and dives back in for more fervent kisses, like a man dying of thirst and you’re the most delicious drink he’s ever tasted.
It’s not until he suddenly grips your waist and spins the two of you around, depositing you on the desk with a surprising lack of finesse, that you realize just how wildly affected he is.
Oscar licks into the seam of your lips like he’s staking a claim and something within you shatters at the stark, naked wanting in his eyes when he pulls back the tiniest bit.
He just stares at you, chest heaving, gaze roving hungrily over your features like he’s memorizing you all over again. His pupils are blown wide, just thin rings of molten brown remaining around the black.
When he speaks, his voice is low and gravelly in a way that vibrates through you. “Say. My. Name.”
“Oscar,” you respond immediately, not even having to think. His hungry gaze burns over you and you feel stripped bare and vulnerable under the weight of it.
But rather than make you want to cover up, it has the opposite effect — you’re reeling him in, hands fisted in his shirt to pull him closer. You never want this delirious, frantic sense of possession and desire to end.
“Again,” he grinds out, sounding utterly wrecked already.
“Oscar.” You bare your neck for him as you say it, like presenting an offering. He groans low and deep, instantly ducking to mouth along the column of your throat.
His hands are everywhere, pushing up the hem of your top, kneading along your sides and ribs as he nips and sucks bruising paths across your collarbones and chest.
“Don’t stop saying it,” he orders, more plea than demand.
So you let his name become a breathless prayer falling from your lips, over and over between gasps and keening whimpers. You lose yourself in a heady feedback loop — the more you speak his name with naked wanting, the wilder it seems to drive him until his touch grows scattered and devouring.
At some point his hands finally succeed in tugging your shirt up and off. Your name doesn’t even register when his scorching mouth closes over one peaked bud, your back bowing at the shuddering bolt of sensation that lances through you.
All you can seem to process is the feel of his calloused palms mapping every inch of newly-exposed skin and the desperate mumble of “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...” spilling shameless and endless from your lips.
Eventually, the heated exploration of his mouth and hands becomes too much to simply lay there and take. With a low, guttural sound you haul Oscar upright and swing your legs around his hips, relishing his full body shudder.
“Not enough,” you accuse roughly, rolling your core against his in clear invitation. “Need you closer, Oscar.”
His heated groan at your wanton demand is music to your ears. Strong hands grasp your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist as he surges against you.
“So impatient, my darling girl,” he teases. This close, you can make out the faintest brush of freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones that you’ve mapped and memorized with lips and fingertips a hundred times before.
You can’t help but reach out to graze them with your thumb, gazing up at him with naked adoration. “My Oscar,” you murmur reverently.
His eyes slip shut for a beat, jaw ticking as if your words have an unexpectedly profound effect on him. When he opens them again, his gaze is fierce and intent.
“Yours,” he vows simply, leaning in to seal the promise against the plush of your lips.
The kiss is somehow softer and headier than before. You get lost in the lush glide of his mouth, every sliding brush of lip and tongue shorting out whatever rational thoughts remain until all you know is his name — the shape and taste and weight of it against your own.
It’s the only thing that seems real, vital, until at some point Oscar’s mouth leaves yours to trail hot, openmouthed kisses down your chest and stomach and lower still.
Your back bows as you squirm incoherently against the press of his lips and tongue. His restraint seems to have finally snapped, movements growing hungry and rough as he works you steadily higher.
“Oscar,” you sob out his name like you’re breaking apart, pleading for something you can’t quite name. He answers with a rumbling sound of satisfaction that vibrates hotly against your sensitized flesh.
More, is all you can think as he redoubles his efforts.
At some point, you must have arched helplessly off the desk because suddenly his hands are at the small of your back, fingertips digging in hard as he holds you arched for his questing mouth.
The intimate angle of his positioning has your jaw dropping open on a silent scream of overwhelmed pleasure. All that escapes is a strangled gasp of, “Oscar!”
He growls something incoherent against you that might be praise, might be reassurance, might just be your name groaned out roughly in shared bliss. But you honestly can’t tell anymore — you’ve transcended far past coherent speech and rational thought.
Everything has devolved into just sensation and feeling and the endless loop of his name spilling over and over from your lips like a benediction.
Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...
Just when you think you might actually shatter into pieces from the intensity he’s wringing out of you, strong hands are abruptly hauling you up and off the desk in one smooth motion.
You cling to him with heavy limbs, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he staggers the few steps to your shared bedroom. At some point his shirt has vanished, allowing your hands free rein to roam over flexing muscle and heated skin.
When the backs of his legs hit the edge of the mattress, he pauses to claim your mouth in another searing, shattering kiss. He whispers something fervent and intense against your lips, your name perhaps intertwined with endearments or promises.
You can’t be sure. All you know is the shape of his name against your tongue, the only word your mind seems capable of holding onto as he lowers you reverently to the sheets and stretches out over you.
When he finally sinks into you with a harsh groan of relief, your back bows and you let out a broken, high keen — his name once more torn from your lips in breathless ecstasy.
“There you are, that’s it love,” he growls hoarsely as he begins to move, words interspersed between drugging, thorough thrusts. “Let me hear you, let me hear my name on those pretty lips.”
So you do, shamelessly loud and incoherent now as he gradually unravels you from the inside out. His name and gasped pleas and frantic praise all blur together in a continuous stream of blissful delirium.
At some point, his own control seems to splinter apart, hips snapping hard and deep as his pace turns utterly unrestrained. Still, you chase that shattering edge, crying out for Oscar as your whole world narrows to the merciless intensity of his driving thrusts and demanding hands kneading your flesh with staking ownership.
When you finally go soaring over that dizzying peak with his name torn hoarse from your throat, he follows you over almost violently with a ragged shout. Oscar’s arms shake dangerously as he holds his weight off of you, pupils swallowing up the copper of his eyes entirely in onyx pools of spent lust.
As you slowly float back down from that searing high, limbs heavy and sated, you reach up to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone. He turns his face into your palm with a shuddering exhale as if grounding himself.
For several long breaths, all that can be heard is your shaky inhales mingling together while your racing heartbeats gradually return to normal.
Finally, Oscar presses a warm, lingering kiss to the center of your palm before shifting to stretch out beside you, his weight dipping the mattress.
You immediately curl into the reassuring heat of him, despite the sweat still cooling along your skin. One of his arms bands around your waist, holding you flush against his side while his other hand comes up to card soothingly through your hair.
Nestling your face into the curve where his shoulder meets his neck, you press a gentle kiss to the hollow of his throat and whisper, “Hi.”
“Hi yourself,” he murmurs back, low and slightly scratchy in the aftermath. You can hear the smile in his voice as his fingers keep carding idly through your hair.
Silence falls again, comfortable and peaceful in the aftermath of your frantic passion, both of you simply basking in the warmth of shared nearness.
Eventually though, the question you’ve been avoiding asking slips out in a hazy murmur. “What brought all … that … on, Oscar?”
He’s quiet for so long, you begin to wonder if he fell asleep. Just when you’re about to shift to look at him though, he speaks up.
“When your fans assumed I was your ex … the way they were celebrating that the two of you got back together ...” His fingers stroke almost absentmindedly through your hair as he pauses. “I dunno, something in me just .. .snapped a little. Seeing them say over and over how perfect he was for you ...”
He trails off with a low chuckle, and you can’t resist craning your neck to glance up at him curiously. When your eyes meet his, his expression is rueful.
“I couldn’t stand the thought of any other name on your lips, love. Even your own.” His fingertips trace the line of your jaw with unbearable tenderness. “All I wanted was for you to say my name like that — like it’s the only word that matters in the entire world.”
Just like that, a fresh ember of want rekindles low in your belly at the slightly awed honesty in his voice. You exhale a shaky breath, searching his stormy gaze for … what? Evidence of how crazily affected you are by such a simple revelation?
Whatever he finds reflected in your stare seems to give him pause as well because his eyes almost immediately darken with renewed hunger.
“Say it again then,” he husks, rolling until he’s leaned over you, hands planted on either side of your head. There’s no demand in the words, just low, thrumming need thrilling between you both.
So you reach up to cup his face in your palms, rubbing your thumbs over the sandpapery stubble along his strong jawline as you gaze adoringly up at him.
“Oscar ...” you breathe out his name like a sacred invocation. “My Oscar.”
His eyes slip shut and he makes a low, ragged sound of pure satisfaction on an exhale that ghosts across your lips.
“Yeah,” he rasps, bending lower until his forehead rests against yours. “That’s it, love … that’s all I ever want to hear.”
You pull him back down to you then, unable and unwilling to resist sealing the promise of those words against his lips with your own.
And as everything inevitably dissolves into heat and need and formless ecstasy once more, you lose yourself to the endless chant of his name on your lips — your entire world whittled down to just that one exalted word, over and over and over.
Because really, what other name could ever matter when Oscar Piastri is the only name you’ll ever need?
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 days
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Surgery VII
Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader
Summary: You get in trouble
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"Have to be quiet," You whisper as you clip Bagheera's harness on.
It was one of the first things your Mami taught you when you were little.
Bagheera mews at you as you pick her up, pushing her into your backpack. You zip it up but still leave a bit of it open so she can breathe in fresh air. That was another thing Mami taught you.
Animals must have little holes in so they can breathe but not big enough holes that they can escape.
"I've got it, cub," Ingrid says, reaching for your bag but you push her hand away.
"I'm a big girl," You tell her, pulling your backpack on all by yourself," Can carry it myself."
Ingrid laughs, fondly ruffling your mane. "Look at you," She says," So grown up."
"I know."
Your bag is a little heavier than usual but you're very determined. You think if you can prove that you can look after Bagheera by yourself than Ingrid will finally take you to the shelter so you can get your own cat.
"Whoa," Mami laughs as you get out of the car with your backpack," Look at you go, cub. So independent all of a sudden."
"I'm a big girl," You tell Mami just like you told Ingrid.
"Don't grow up too fast," Mami says," Or you'll have to move out soon."
You give her a deadpan stare. "Don't be silly, Mami."
You run off after that. You know Mami and Ingrid are going straight to the field so you duck around the corner and pull Bagheera out of your bag.
She mews at you a few times as you finally work out how to clip her leash to your little belt loops. That means she can't wander off without you.
You're very proud of yourself as you make your way into the locker room, chest puffed out.
"Oh, cub," Patri groans with a little laugh," What have you done?"
You frown. "Nothing!"
"Having the cat doesn't look like nothing," Patri says, very pointedly looking at Bagheera."
"We're having a day out!" You announce," So Ingrid knows I can have a ginger cat too!"
Patri full on laughs now. "You're very sneaky. How did you manage to pull this off?"
"I'm mature," You insist," And me and Bagheera are friends!"
"Come on," Patri says," Let's go to the pitch and see what your mums think of this."
"I want a ginger cat," You say as Patri escorts you to the pitch," And I want it to have a proper tail. Bagheera's got a stumpy tail. I want my cat to have a proper one."
"Cub!" Ingrid's voice yells across the pitch and you instantly know you're in trouble. Ingrid doesn't use that voice a lot with you, her grumpy in trouble voice but she's using it on you now. "Why is Bagheera here?!"
Mami looks angry too, arms crossed over her chest and Patri pushes you forward.
"Tell them what you told me."
You take a big breath. "Showing that I can have a cat too."
"Cub," Ingrid says sternly and you wilt.
You sniffle a little as your throat goes all tight like it does when you're about to cry. "I really want a cat, Mama," You say morosely, digging the tip of your shoe into the ground," Just trying to prove I can look after one."
Ingrid massages her temple in annoyance.
"Cub," Mami says sternly," What you've done is very, very naughty. Do you understand that?"
"Sorry, Mami."
"Very naughty," Mami insists," You could have gotten Bagheera very hurt."
"Sorry."
She takes your hand and leads you over to the corner of the pitch, turning you around so you can't see the rest of the team.
"You're four years old now so that means four minutes in time out. Sit here and think about what you've done."
"I'm sorry, Mami!"
"I know but you're still going in timeout."
Mami doesn't take Bagheera from you and she curls up on your lap as you sit there.
You know you sit there for four minutes but it feels like a lot longer until Mami and Ingrid come over.
They sit in front of you.
"You were very, very naughty," Ingrid says to you," Not telling us you took Bagheera could have gotten her very hurt. Do you understand that?"
You nod.
"That wasn't very responsible," She continues," And it doesn't make me think you deserve a cat of your own."
You burst into tears. "I'm sorry, Mama! I was gonna look after her promise!"
You turn your bag upside down and shake it.
Treats for Bagheera fall out as well as a bottle of water and the collapsible bowl you use for Bagheera's beach trips. You've got a blanket too and toys for if she gets bored.
"Oh, cub," Mami says as she looks at everything.
"Left my bag a little bit open so she could breathe," You insist," And made sure it didn't fall in the car!"
Ingrid still looks mad though. "Cub," She says," Bagheera is a very special part of the family. She might have been scared all alone in your bag, did you think of that?"
You shake your head. "I'm sorry." All you can do is keep apologising.
"I can see that but it was still very naughty of you. Do you understand why?"
You nod.
"Why?"
"'Cause Bagheera could have gotten hurt and I should have told you and Mami."
"Well done for saying sorry," Ingrid says eventually," And well done for knowing what you did was wrong. You did a good job in making sure to pack everything Bagheera will need today."
"We can't do much now that Bagheera is here," Mami continues," So you'll have to take care of her today."
You nod. "I will, Mami."
"And when we get home, we'll discuss your own cat," Ingrid says.
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kooyeux · 1 day
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SQUIRTLE.
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“If you were a pokèmon, you would be Squirtle.”
CW: squirting, overstimulation, püssy eating, edging, fingering, clit play.
Boyfriend discovers that he can make you squirt and he becomes obsessed with it.
© KOOYEUX 2024.
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When your boyfriend once discovered that you could squirt, he couldn’t get it out of his mind, finding himself thinking about it almost everyday.
Repeatedly trying to persuade you into doing it again but failing as you keep telling him how that time was absolutely embarrassing for you.
Yet, tonight Jungkook is between your squishy thighs, knuckles deep into your soaked cunt. Murmuring sweet nothings against your clit.
“So good, aren’t ya?”
He spits on your cunt, smearing it with the pad of his thumb between your folds. Lewd sounds of your soppy hole being screwed by his middle and ring fingers.
Whimpers and soft moans are the only sounds that pass past your lips, reaching his ears like god’s angel’s prayers. You’re preaching to him.
Jungkook’s goal of the night is to make you squirt, hard— all over his face. He won’t give up, atleast not until you’ll give it to him, nice and wet.
Tip of his tongue teasingly flickering on your clit, giving the stimulation needed for you to grab she sheets and roll your hips on his face. “Good girl, grind on my face like that..”
Jungkook’s voice would’ve sent you on the fine line of coming, if only he hadn’t removed his fingers from your pussy making you whine his name with pure annoyance.
You cover your flushed face, still twisted in a now fading pleasure expression, “Why would you do that?” gentle voice of yours scolding Jungkook’s evil actions.
“M’sorry baby,” He is not and you know. “Gonna make an angel like you feel good, mh?” He purs, displaying a sweet grin as he pierces your eyes with his.
“You deserve it.”
Jungkook dips his head back into your pussy, ready to taste you again. Flatting his long tongue before dragging it up to your bud, tightly wrapping it with his lips— sucking it and swiping around it.
“Kook, your fingers..please.” You gasp, tightly holding his hair. Feeling full as he gently and sloppily pumps two digits into you, obeying your need straight away.
The steady movements makes a hot pool linger in the pit of your stomach. Your cunt tightens around his fingers, sending him a warning of your coming orgasm.
Your cries are getting a little louder and thighs threaten to tightly close around Jungkook’s neck. “I know, I know baby. Hold it f’me..” He pleads, fingers curling up to your cervix.
“I, I can’t— too much!” He knows, coos at you and works in you faster which you respond to by creaming on his fingers and shrieking.
But Jungkook is not done, not even near it: the grip around your thigh feels more forceful as he violently keeps on abusing your cunt with all the power he can muster. He messily makes-out with your folds, never forgetting to give attention at your already molested clit.
Little hiccups get trapped in your throat as the feeling of another orgasm is chasing you, this time more and more intensely— almost sensing it rushing out of you.
And suddenly you snap, glisten juices covering Jungkook’s face as he stares up at you with a grin of a winner. His hair are stuck on his sweaty forehead, beaten lips and red cheeks; he swirls his tongue around the tip of his fingers, popping ’em inside his warm mouth.
Your insides flip, the sight in front of you is erotic. “Shit, think i’m gonna cum just by licking your juices..” Jungkook throws is head back, chuckling.
“Nasty.” You mumble, closing your legs. He hovers over you, leaving a sweet peck on your forehead. “Maybe, but you did very good, cumming so much for me—”
“If you were a pokèmon, you would be Squirtle.” Jungkook licks your lips, as you close your eyes.
“You and your stupid word game!”
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© kooyeux : all rights reserved.
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tacticalprincess · 21 hours
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ugh thinking about pure lil reader whos always used her clit to b stimulated and gets scared and panics heavily when trying to finger herself so könig helps the poor thing and comforts her💔
choosing könig to be the first person whose fingers enter your tight, unused hole probably isn’t the best idea. like his cock, his fingers are thick and girthy, covered in callouses from his grueling work. he’ll help you fuck yourself, though, coaxing as many nerves out of you as possible beforehand. due to your lack of experience, it doesn’t take much to get you wet and needy for it, your hole clenching around nothing as he licks into your pliant mouth, hands groping the sensitive parts of your body. you’re desperate for a fullness you’ve never felt and he finds it adorable.
he knows you’re ready when you begin rocking into his clothed cock, trying to feel his hard boner against your messy cunt. he’ll guide your fingers like they’re his own, his tone soft and patient as he instructs you to start rubbing at your swollen clit. he’ll have you dip one finger inside yourself to start with, transfixed by the way your little cunt is drooling all over your thighs, slick pooling at your ass. you gasp at how easily it slips in this time, flustered as you do as könig says, slowly pumping in and out of yourself. he can barely tear his eyes away from the way your cunt swallows the digit, dying to feel how tight and hot you are inside. he’ll make you describe the sensations so he can live through you, his cock achingly hard. you curl your fingers per his request, getting frustrated when you can’t find your own g-spot. with watery eyes, you nearly give up, convinced that it would feel so much better if könig did it himself.
“this tiny pussy can barely fit one of your fingers, what makes you think you can take mine, mausi?”
with his help, it’s not long before you’re worked up to two fingers, hitting the sensitive spot at the front of your canal over and over, until your body erupts into fireworks. he’ll make you jerk him off in return, using your creamy stickiness as lube, but not until he tastes it for himself.
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erwinsvow · 1 day
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knocked up too young and wearing a glittery diamond ring on your left hand, you had settled nicely into the role of mrs. cameron. it wasn’t tough, not a hard position to play in the slightest—rafe, or rather your husband—made everything nice and easy for you.
it seemed like it was his biggest desire come true, making sure you and his little girl were taken care of. he liked it actually, more than he admitted, knowing the two of you were fast asleep in bed when he left for work in the morning, doing nothing but relaxing throughout the day.
in fact, he had decided the second you had tearfully confessed that you were pregnant that this was the sort of life you were meant for, the kind of life he was going to give you. you were so scared, he can remember it like it was yesterday—your watery eyes and wet cheeks, the way your hands shook when you pulled out the test to show him.
“i-i-i’m so sorry, i, i thought the pills were enough, everyone says it’s enough-” you were stammering and crying your way into exhausation, something he definitely didn’t like. 
“s’okay, kid. nothin’ to cry about.” he was formulating his plan already, being proactive in all matters, thinking ahead to marriage licenses and car seats while you stared down at the positive stick in your palm.
“you’re.. you’re not mad, rafe?” the way you look at him, the world stops spinning. why would he be mad?
“hey, s’done,” he says, hands on your shoulders to steady you, bringing you to the edge of the bed to take a seat. he takes the pregnancy test from your hands, looking down at it himself. “it already happened. can’t take it back. no point in cryin’ over it.” 
when you look up with even more tears in your eyes, he’s half convinced he’s said the wrong thing—but it doesn’t faze him, he keeps going.
“hey, hey. what, you thought i wouldn’t take care of you? this is my kid too.”
“i know, i just, i thought you wouldn’t be okay.. with it. having it.” that’s the first and only time he got stern with you through this whole pregnancy.
“hey, don’t talk like that. this is our baby. there’s no question ‘bout havin’ it.” you nod up at him, tears drying as you steady yourself, regain a little composure knowing rafe’s not mad about this little accident. “y’okay now?” you nod again. “good, call your parents. tell ‘em we’re getting married soon.” 
“wh-rafe!” 
but, like how most things were with rafe, he called the shots and you listened. the two of you got married shortly after, before you were even showing. anyone who even attempted to comment on the hastiness of everything shut up the second rafe stared at them.
you’d be a liar to say you didn’t like it, a fool if you didn’t appreciate how rafe was to you.
he stepped up in every way, better than you could have even tried to put together in your imagination. a place was purchased and had slowly started to become home, with a crib that rafe assembled by himself—though it had taken hours and ended up with the instruction papers all crumbled up in a corner—and baby proofed cabinets and sockets. you laugh watching rafe try to install the baby gate on the staircase.
“you know that’s for when they start crawling, right?” you giggle, a hand on your very pregnant belly.
“shut up. m’being proactive. gonna have no time once she actually gets here and we’re runnin’ around changing diapers and makin’ formula and shit.” 
you’re only a touch surprised with how well-versed he is with all the baby stuff, though you appreciate it more and more since you’re still a little confused and overwhelmed. he makes it all easy, from the pregnancy cravings he runs around to find for you to the pretty pink walls in the nursery. he even satisfies all your other cravings, like around month six when there was nothing you wanted more than rafe's dick in every position you could think of.
when his daughter actually comes into the world, the two of you are a mess of emotions and thoughts, but there’s only one rafe really cares about. when can he give you another one?
it doesn’t take long for him to start trying again—trying to convince you that the two of you can handle two, that little kids need siblings their age. the baby’s only six months old but he’s convinced it’ll be better to have them all young at the same time rather than waiting—at least that’s the line he feeds you.
“no, rafe, they’re gonna be like irish twins. it’s so embarassing,” you say next to him in bed, staring up at your husband. 
“what’s that?”
“when you have two babies that aren’t even a year apart.”
“oh. that’s a thing? good, at least there’s a name for it. i’ll get you a book on it, since that’s what we’re doin’.”
and try as you might, even you can’t resist rafe for long, not when he’s taking such good care of you and just wants to give you another baby with his blue eyes and your pretty hair. you end up in the same position that got you into this whole situation—your knees folded to your chest and eyes rolling back while rafe slams into you. 
“don’t worry, baby,” he breathes into your ear, low and quiet since the baby’s sleeping in the other room. “i’ll get y’knocked up again. won’t have to think about a thing in this world except my kids.”
it’s a shame you get pregnant so quickly—rafe was so fun when his only thought revolved around fucking you full of his cum. 
“well, s’not gonna be irish twins. too far apart,” rafe says, looking at the photos from the doctor’s appointment.
“no, it’s just regular twins.” you don’t think you’ve ever seen rafe so happy.
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lxnarphase · 1 day
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GOOD MORNING, BABY ๋࣭ ⭑
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ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...ft. : h. hiromi + k. shiu + r. sukuna + h. kinji + t. aoi
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : somnophilia (pre-agreed on), thigh fucking, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, dirty talk, praise and degradation, breeding kink, sukuna is a dickhead, shiu really loves his girl, hiromi loses his shit, aoi is a great boyfriend, it's just really fucking dirty im not sorry
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : which jjk characters would fuck your thighs while you're sleeping bc they're horny but don't wanna wake you up !!
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who does it to tease you ↴
✧ k. shiu ; he's slow, purposefully grinding right against your sex, his cock leaking precum all over your thighs when he pushes through them. shiu thinks it’s so fucking cute how you try to grind against nothing in your sleep, he can’t help but tease you a little bit, a little smirk on his face at all your reactions
“always makin' me do all the work, aren't ya? hm, got a pretty lil' pillow princess on my hands...” “your man had such a tough day, and your here all comfy and sweet, waiting for me t' touch you. tsk, should've come home sooner, didn't mean to leave my girl waiting." “god, always loved how damn soft you are, angel. mm, so so soft and warm, jus' for me. don't worry, i'll wake you up with my cock cummin' all over your pretty skin.”
✧ h. kinji ; to be fair, you caused this. you teased the poor man all day, and kinji knows he's getting you back when you telling him you're gonna take a nap, rubbing your hands against his chest while wearing nothing but his t-shirt. since you're soooo eager to tease, he had no issues with teasing you back.
“hm? going to pretend you sleep? c'mon, sweetheart, don’t you want to be fucked? you're so fuckin' cute when y'wanna try and be stubborn, hun." "i know you’re awake, i see your pretty eyes trying not to open. all you have to do is open them and i’ll stop fucking your thighs and fuck you instead.” “thaaat’s it, baby, tha's my girl. rubbing up against me while looking so pretty. let’s give you a reward, hm? gonna pop the tip in an' see how fast we can get ya to cry for the rest of it.”
who does it because they are desperate ↴
✧ h. hiromi ; there’s no knowing what caused him to snap, but hiromi comes home practically feral. it's hot, so hot as he quickly takes off all his clothes, uncaring about his expensive suit jacket on the floor. he’s been thinking about you ever since he left his office, thinking about every curve of your body, every sweet noise you’d make, and how delicious you sound saying his name.
“honey, wake up, please. ’m not fucking you until you wake up and look at me. you're not getting my cock til you look at me.” “beg? oh, no, no, no, pretty thing, no teasing and no playing around. the only one that’s going to beg is you, baby. now stop being a little brat and be good for me, yeah? don't wanna punish you, not when you look so cute right now." "how about i just fuck your thighs and, cum all on them? you want my cum to go to waste? or do you want to be fucked full of my cum like a good girl? make your fucking choice.”
who wakes you up ↴
✧ r. sukuna ; sukuna doesn’t even go to thigh fucking, he skips that. no, he’s grumpy his sleep was interrupted by the annoying rush of blood to his dick. so now, he's biting your thighs, sucking on them before going down on you, using his tongue and fingers to prep you lazily shoving his stupidly big cock inside you, humming when you moan yourself awake.
“look who's awake. took you long enough, I put so much effort into making you feel good before I shoved my dick inside ya. hey, don't smack my tits, brat, i'll bite your damn hand off.” “hm? you want me to move? mm. why should i? ...because i woke you up? tch...you're lucky you're s' fucking pretty or i'd just jerk off and cum all over your face.” "fuck, always take me in s' fuckin' good...i trained this cunt right, now she knows how t' handle my cock. 'member when you couldn't even take half of it in? look at you now, turned ya into my nasty little cockslut."
✧ t. aoi ; you fell asleep in aoi's lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you rested your head against his shoulder. the thigh fucking was supposed to happen, yes, but you were tired, opting out for cockwarming him as he watched whatever show he put on. but then you started squirming around, whining so cutely in your sleep. how could he not take care of his girl?
“oh, hiii, bunny...you’re finally awake? hey, shhh, shh, 's okay, i've got ya. feels real good, right? y'just sounded so cute, i couldn' help myself, pretty, you were squeezing me so tight.” “too slow? do you want me to go faster, darling? all you have to do is ask....heh, no, 'm not being mean! i just think you're cute all sleepy, is all.” “it’s hitting deep? yeah? maybe i should lift you higher and slam you down to see how deep i really can go.”
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flemingsfreckles · 3 days
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Something New (18+)
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Jessie Fleming x Reader
Synopsis: you and Jessie get teased for your assumed “vanilla” sex life, you decide to take Jessie on a trip to find some new things to try in the bedroom.
Warnings: suggestion to sex, sex toys, visiting adult store, (handcuffs, blindfolds, strap-on, buttplug, vibrators), none of the toys actually being used.
WC: 2.4k
A/N: if yall want a part 2 in which the toys are actually used, I can do that :)
“Oh come on there’s got to be something you want to try that we haven’t?” You pull up the sheet from where it had been kicked off the bed, covering your naked body before laying down next to your equally naked girlfriend.
“I don’t know.” Jessie just remained lying on her back, not making eye contact with you. Her chest was still rising and falling quickly, catching her breath.
“Oh come on, don’t be shy with me, after what we just did there’s no reason to be shy.” You two had just finished what was supposed to be quick morning sex but turned into a competitive match. Giving each other orgasm after orgasm until about 11am when you both finally tapped out.
“Are you asking because of what happened at Sam’s house?” Jessie asks.
The two of you had been at a party the night before at Sam’s with the rest of the team, playing various card and board games which led quickly to playing drinking games that somehow always ended up in discussions of everyone’s sex life.
When you started dating, you and Jessie had agreed to not disclose too much about what you two do behind closed doors to your nosey teammates. It was originally an idea out of shyness on Jessie’s part, you had never minded indulging your teammates in your experience but out of respect for Jessie and your relationship you kept your mouth shut for the most part. You started to like the secrecy of what went on in your beds, no one knew the details, just you and her. So when you were asked the craziest thing you’ve done in bed, you sipped away at your drink instead of answering. Unsatisfied with your choice to not answer, Sam began to accuse you and Jessie of having an incredibly boring and “vanilla” sex life. You tried to defend yourself and Jessie, Jessie being too shy to be any help, the teasing from your teammates had only continued.
“No.” You’re quick to answer, not even really thinking. “Okay maybe, I don’t know, I don’t think our sex is boring though, I love having sex with you. It just made me think and just thought I’d ask if there was anything you wanted to try.”
You truly didn’t find your sex life with Jessie boring at all, she was excellent in bed, able to meet and exceed your needs and the two of you being athletes meant you had the stamina to last as long as you wanted. You collectively owned a strap-on and a vibrator but nothing else. It worked for the two of you, it was great sex. But even great sex sometimes could use something new, something for a little change of pace. You also knew Jessie well enough to know even if there was something she was interested in, she most likely would keep it to herself until you pried it out of her.
“I don’t know.” You can tell she’s withholding information, still too shy to put her ideas into words. But you decide not to push it, it was a little bit of a personal question to throw on her and expect an immediate answer.
“Alright babe, if you come up with anything, you can tell me. Want to get a shower?” She nods, finally making eye contact with you as you both get up from the bed and move to the bathroom. You let the question go unanswered for now, secretly hoping Jessie would come up with something to tell you in the next couple of days.
After a week passes since you had asked Jessie if she wanted to try anything out in bed and not getting any form of a hint or answer, you decide maybe a little field trip would help. Maybe Jessie just didn’t know what she wanted to try, maybe this would give her some suggestions.
“Where are we going?” Jessie asked for the fifth time since you told her to get dressed and ready to leave the house. She claimed she needed to know where you were going so she could dress appropriately.
“I’ve told you, it’s a surprise.” You turn back to look at your girlfriend as you grab your keys.
“You know I hate surprises.” She mumbles as she follows you down the hallway from your apartment out the door. Jessie wasn’t a big fan of surprises, she liked having all the information and surprises made her feel out of control.
“Jessie it’ll be fine, I promise. If you hate it for some reason we can leave. Do you trust me?”
“Yes, I trust you.” She gets into the passenger seat of your car and you start driving. You debated having her close her eyes but it didn’t feel necessary, you weren’t going too far. You drove for another 25 minutes before you pulled into the parking lot of a small shop.
“You brought me to an adult store?!” Her voice is a mix of confusion and also a little bit scared.
“Yes, I did but we don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. I just thought, maybe we could look around?” You don’t want her to feel forced, but you thought this would be a good way to maybe suggest new ideas for the two of you.
“What if someone sees us?” You’re convinced her voice is raised a few octaves.
“Jessie, we’re adults. We’re also publicly dating, people know we have sex.”
“Still.” She was bouncing her leg, head swiveling to look around the car to the empty parking lot, and she was nervously playing with her fingers. You start to think maybe you should’ve asked if she’d want to do this before you made it a surprise. Or maybe just going online shopping would’ve been a better choice for someone like Jessie.
“Babe,” you place a hand on her knee, trying to settle it, “we don’t have to go in. If you don’t want to, we won’t. We also can go in and then immediately leave, whatever you want.”
She doesn’t say much, just looking at the door of the shop. You can tell she’s having an argument within herself on what she wants to do. You let her ponder, she slowly stops fiddling with her fingers, wiping her hands, that were likely sweating slightly on her legs.
“Let’s go in.”
“Are you sure?” Now worried she feels forced by you and like she has to go into the store.
“Yeah.” Before she’s able to get out of the car you grab her hand.
“If you want to leave, just tell me, we’ll go.” She nods and you both get out of the car and walk into the store.
You’d been in a store like this once before, buying a joke gift for a bachelorette party, but never when looking for something you actually wanted. The toys you owned had been purchased online.
You didn’t know where to start so you decided to just take a lap around the whole store, then figuring out where you wanted to look. Jessie followed you around like a lost puppy, her eyes barely leaving the floor, glancing up only to look at you.
You move over to the wall of dildos, you liked the one you had for your strap currently, but a new one wouldn’t hurt. It’s a little overwhelming, every color and size imaginable on the wall, ones that vibrate, ones that spin, ones that have heating elements. That sounded like a fire hazard to you. Your eyes scan over all the options, a few catching your eye, you prefer the fun colors, you look at sizes comparable to the one you already owned. It worked for both of you, no reason to make too much of a change with a new one.
You turn to see Jessie, surprised to see she’s actually looking up at the wall instead of the floor. You watch as her eyes scan, before setting on a blue dildo that looks to be slightly larger than the one you already owned. Her eyes wander away and then come back to the blue one. You give her a second to make a decision or movement to grab the toy, she doesn’t.
“You like that one?” You point at it on the wall. Jessie doesn’t say anything, just turning to look at you and then back to the box and then to the floor.
“Jessie, if you want it we can get it.” You notice the slightest nod of her head, but she doesn’t make a move to grab it. You sigh, letting out a small laugh at your girlfriend’s shy behavior, given she was the opposite in the bedroom once you got her going. You take the box off the wall and throw it into the basket you had picked up.
Jessie walks away and out of the section you were in, not saying anything to you. Now it was you who was the one following her around the store. She moves over to a wall of assorted items. Small vibrators, bottles of lube, gags, paddles, all sorts of things. You watch her carefully as her eyes scan again. This time they don’t stop for too long on anything. You assume nothing has peaked her interest. She takes a few steps around the corner to another wall of items. You grab a bottle of lube off the shelf, identical to the one you already owned, you weren’t running out quite yet but there wasn’t really such a thing as too much lube.
You scan the wall yourself before following Jessie around the corner. You see her hand reach out slightly toward something before she withdraws when she notices you coming around the corner. Her hand drops but she’s still looking at it when you come over. It’s a blindfold and handcuff set.
“Really?” You look at her, shock probably across your face as your hand grabs the box. She nods again, still not using her voice. You throw it in the basket. The thought of your hands restrained to the headboard while Jessie had her way with you, or hers being restrained while you got to tease her had you clenching your thighs together, ready to leave the store and try it out.
You are now just following Jessie around the store, less looking for yourself and just watching her eyes carefully as she has yet to actually say any words about what she wants to you. As you walk by a section of harnesses you see ones with a pocket where you could put a vibrator. You try to think if the one you have at home has a pocket but you can’t remember.
“Babe,” you whisper yell across the store to where Jessie was wandering around. She quickly comes over to you. “Does our harness have this pocket? I can’t remember.”
She nods at you and gives a quiet “Yes.”
“Oh, should we get something for it? We don’t have anything small enough to go in there.” You grab for one of the smaller bullet vibrators and hold it up to Jessie, cocking your head to ask her if she wanted it. She just gives you a nod again.
Jessie returns back to where she was before, you follow her over. She’s looking at another wall of assorted items. Only instead of walking past this one her eyes are glancing and then looking away only to draw back to some boxes. When you realize what she's looking at, your jaw nearly falls open, but not wanting to make her question her interest you keep a straight face.
“That?” You point at the silver butt plug Jessie was looking at.
“Only if you’d want it?” You realize she means she wants to use it on you, if you’d let her. You’d never tried it, but figured no harm in trying things out.
“Sure, I’m open to trying whatever with you.” You grab the box, throwing it into your surprisingly full basket. You hadn’t realized how many things you had picked up on your lap around the store.
You’ve nearly made it through the whole store, taking a last stop to look at some of the lingerie. You flip through the options while Jessie is back to standing behind you as if she was hiding. You find a red lacy matching set and throw it into the basket, you look back to see Jessie’s eyes wide as she sees what you had picked out. You flash her a smirk, knowing she’s picturing you wearing the outfit.
“You all done?” You ask your girlfriend. She gives you a nod and reaches into her pocket grabbing out her wallet and handing you her card.
“I’ll get it.” You wave off her card but she sticks the card into your hand again. You roll your eyes, taking her card and turning to go check out, leaving Jessie wandering behind you, not wanting to interact with the employees.
You check out quickly and look back to get Jessie’s attention as you’re ready to leave. She follows you quickly out the door and rushes to the car. You place the bag in the trunk and get in the drivers seat.
“See I knew there was stuff you wanted to try but were too shy to say it.” You poke at her cheek. “You could’ve told me.” You tease her gently you knew she was shy, she always had been since you met her, she was shy with everyone.
She doesn’t say anything but you notice the blush on her cheeks reddening. You decide to leave her be, not wanting to tease her too much. At least not yet, maybe later in the bedroom.
You throw the car in drive and leave the shop, heading home. When you get home you throw the contents of the bag on the bed. “So where do you want to start?” You ask Jessie turning to see her looking at everything you had bought.
“Handcuffs maybe the new dildo too?” She says with a questioning look, one eyebrow raised at you, no longer shy like she was at the store.
You nod quickly at her.
“Get on the bed.” Her tone is demanding, she reaches to pick up the handcuffs and blindfold as she makes her way to the side of the bed. You lay down and Jessie straddles your waist, her weight holding you to the bed. She drops the handcuffs before grabbing your hands with hers interlocking your fingers and pinning your hands above your head with her strength.
She leans down as if she’s going to kiss you, before moving to the side to place her lips against your ear. “This is going to be fun.”
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ciggyy · 1 day
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•°. * handprints •°. *
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Summary: You and Satoru get in trouble with Suguru, so he decides to spank you both as punishment.
Pairing/s: Poly SatoSugu x reader
CW: sexual content, afab Reader, spanking, begging, virginal fingering, anal fingering
W/C: 2.1k
You can read it on ao3 here
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You and Satoru were on your knees, bent over with your asses in the air, trying had to look as innocent as possible. You both knew you were in trouble.
It was something like a mutiny. You and Satoru had plotted to team up against Suguru while his back was turned. The two of you, after exchanging a silent nod of agreement, had crept up to him quietly. Both lifting an arm to the side.
He was simply minding his own business, hands gathering up his hair as he tied it up into its usual bun before he heads off for work at Nanami’s café. He’d better hurry up or else he’d be late for- SMACK!
Two loud slaps filled the room as your hands each landed on either one of his buttcheeks, hard.
Suguru grunts out in pain, dropping his hair, the hair tie that he held between his teeth falling to the ground as he turned on his heel. You little shits. His honey-coloured eyes narrowed the second they landed on you, and you knew you were done for.
“Run!” Satoru yelled, the two of you were already making a mad dash from the scene, but it was too late.
Suguru’s fist clutched the back of your clothes tightly, dragging you both into the bedroom as you both tried to get away, his grip was way too strong to get out of.
So now, the two of you were nothing short of naked, side by side on the edge of your shared bed, with a not-very-amused looking Suguru behind you.
“Can we at least see the marks?” Satoru pouts back up at his dark-haired boyfriend. He had no doubt that there were two, bright red handprints on Suguru’s ass right now, and he wanted more than anything to admire them. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you wanted to as well.
“Oh, you’ll be seeing marks.” Suguru turns his attention onto the sleeves of his light, lavender dress shirt, not looking at either of you as he neatly starts to fold them up to his elbows. “But they won’t be mine.”
You swallow thickly, a heavy feeling beginning to grow in your abdomen at the way he was purposely taking his time to expose the smooth skin of his forearms, inch by inch.
“Suguru…” Your voice came out as a whisper. You wanted to reach over and unbutton his shirt and it off entirely. But you knew he wasn’t going to let you off so easily.
He smirks, tilting his head to the side at you at Satoru in a mock pity. He could already feel his cock getting hard with the way both your eyes were looking up at him so widely, so innocently. He almost scoffed, because he knew you two were anything but innocent.
Finally, after the most agonising wait, he trails his hand ever so slowly up the back of your thighs, sending tingles of pleasure all the way down to your toes. You resist the urge to squirm and whine at the heat of his skin against yours.
A large palm gently rests on your cheek, the other walks its way up Satoru’s exposed spine. He shivers under him, slightly ticklish. Suguru’s fingers massage your ass, and you allow yourself a small sigh of pleasure at the feeling.
Smack!
A gasp tears from your lips as his open palm connects with your cheek. Satoru moans at the sound of you getting slapped, his dick twitching beneath him. Me too. He wanted to get slapped to. So badly.
Smack!
Suguru’s other hand comes down, this time on Satoru’s ass, making him jolt slightly in surprise. Two handprints bloomed, one on your right cheek, and one of Satoru’s left. Suguru smiled at his distinct signature, marking your skin.
Smack!
Your left cheek jiggled and rebounded so perfectly, that it could’ve put jelly to shame. The fabric of his dark slack tightened into a tent, painfully restraining his twitching dick.
Smack!
“Ahh!” Satoru’s hissed and bucked, kicking his heeled foot against the bed.
Smack! Smack! Smack! 
He kept going like that, spanking you in turns, you, then Satoru, then you, then Satoru. He wasn’t the least bit kind about it, every hit sending shockwave of heat through your body.
Smack!
Suddenly, Suguru didn’t care about the fact that he was probably running late for work, not when both your bums were so deliciously springy. 
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Setting tables and taking coffee orders?
Smack! 
What tables? What coffee orders? It’s not like the café’s customers gave him extra tips anyway.
Smack! Smack! Smack! 
Would Nanami now probably have to do overtime?
Smack! 
Not his problem.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
All he cared about was his two lovers. And their pretty little asses glowing red.
Smack!
“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Your hand shot back to cover your cheeks. Shit, you were so hot right now, your clit buzzing all on its own. You wanted more, but the sharp sting the swelled over your rear was oh-so overwhelming.
Suguru grabbed your wrist in his right hand and held it against your side, before giving you four extra-hard spanks to reprimand the disruption, you had to grit your teeth to stop from moaning out loud. “No reaching back.”
“Ow-w-w-w.” You whimpered and panted loudly, pounding your forehead onto the mattress. “Can’t help it. Hurts.” Your cunt was throbbing violently, you could hear it in your ears.
“Suguru… please. Your fingers. Please.” Satoru breathes out, so desperately, so lewdly. Suguru has to clench his jaw to stop any sounds from parting his lips.
“Yes. Please Suguru.” You added making sure your tone came out in a needy whisper. You knew full well how much Suguru loved to hear those tones coming from you, craved to hear them.
Suguru hums to himself, pretending to think about it. Then, moves his hand up. You inhale, anticipating the slap, but it never comes. Instead, he lightly caressed the round of your rump, his cool hands giving you a sort of respite from the stinging heat.
A shaky breath of relief comes out of your lips and your eyes flutter to a close.
His other hand gives Satoru’s cheek a light pat pat pat, as to let him know that the hard part was over. Then, without another warning, he slid his hand between his legs and curled his fingers around Satoru’s length.
“F-fu- ughh!” Satoru’s mouth parts open in a shocked relief, screwing his eyes shut and arching his back as Suguru starts to stroke his dick in slow, even movements.
Your mouth waters and you feel your core pulse at the sight of him. There was so much precum, the clear liquid that beads from the tip seems to help Suguru move his hand smoothly up and down.
“Sa-Satoru…” You breathe out, suddenly feeling very needy.
At the sound of your voice, Satoru opens his eyes and looks at you. Your eyes meet his and wordlessly, he lifts his arm and reaches over, carefully cupping the round of your breast, and his fingers grazing your stiff nipple.
“Ahhh~” You draw out your moan, mouth filling up with craving water. Suguru smirked behind you, a rush of excitement swelled in his stomach at the way your body reacted to Satoru. You perfect little thing.
He glides his hand down the round of your cheek and slides it between your folds in one clean sweep. Your body jolts at his touch, back arching as you try to guid his fingers into your hole. More. More.
The nail of his index finger scrapes over the hood of your clit in a teasing manner, before trailing its way back up, and you whimper in protest as they miss and slide back to the crack in your arse.
Suguru’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as your slick coated his fingers so deliciously. Soaking wet. The fabric restraining his cock was growing so-so painful, but he ignores it. Out of the three of you, he was the most controlled, he could handle it.
“Like that, bunny?” Satoru smirks between pants and lightly pinches your nipple.
“Mmmh.” Your moan came out in a whiney hum, and you lean to rest your forehead on his.
Suguru released his loose clutch around Satoru’s cock, which brought out a small whimper from you white-haired boyfriend. He dragged his fingers between your glistening lips once more, sending another bolt of heat shooting through you.
Then, at the same time, he thrust two soaking fingers into your slit and the pretty pink hole of Satoru’s ass. A low moan rumbles from his chest, while you shuddered and dropped you mouth open in an expression of pure ecstasy.
Suguru inhaled sharply through his nose. Fuck did the two of you look so lewd right now, blood rushed up to your faces, jaws slack as short, quick pants filled the room.
He kept his fingers still, refusing to blink as he watched the two of you writhe, grinding into his hands. It was nothing but torture. You knew so well how good he was at fucking you with his fingers, yet it didn’t look like he was planning to do anything soon.
‘Suguru please.” You begged him, needing to cum so badly, both you and Satoru filled the room with hot, ragged breathing. Satoru’s mouth was hanging open, a string of saliva was dripping from his mouth.
Your movements were jerky. You bounced into his hands with short, eager thrusts, driving him deeper and chasing your own highs.
“Say sorry and I might consider it.” Suguru said, and like hell you could picture the smug look on his face right now.  A tiny part of you was irked. He got his revenge, you couldn’t even imagine how red your backside was right now after that spanking session. So why say sorry?
“Sorry.” Satoru blurts out, face scrunching up as he wriggles his bum in search of pleasure. “M’ sorry.”
The urgency in his voice makes your core clench. Fuck it.
“So sorry.” You pouted, whimpering a little bit just so you could earn yourself some pity points.
“You want me to fuck you with my fingers?” Suguru curled his fingers once, groaning as you clenched around him.
“Please.”
“Yes yes yes.”
The heat pooling in your stomach growing unbearable. You needed to release it. Please.
Without thinking, your arm reaches out and locks around Satoru’s cock, and you start pumping him with the same rhythm as your hips. A loud moan of pleasure comes out of his pretty pink lips.
Suguru couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He started moving his fingers in and out, curling them every few thrusts. He was twisting and and squelching them in just the right ways. Faster. Faster.
Your pace on Satoru’s cock quickened,
“Suguru… ughh-” Your eyes rolled back, eyelids fluttering as they do, rocking your ass back and forth. “Yessss~”
“Fu-uck-” Satoru hissed. “I- m’ gonna-”
Everything was building up so quickly. Shit- it’s too much- fuck.
He screws his eyes shut, clenching his teeth and grasping onto the bed sheets with a deathly grip. He stopped moving his hips, legs shaking from the overwhelming pleasure.
“Shit” Suguru grits out, his hands bouncing in and out of you both so rapidly that they were starting to ache. “Come on.”
It was too fast, Suguru’s hand hammering into you, and then, a white, hot liquid spills out of Satoru and onto your hand, pooling into your palm as your cup his throbbing tip.
Your pussy contracts around Suguru’s fingers, grasping at him desperately, like it was begging for help. Suguru felt his mouth water as your cunt leaked out a shot of liquid. The clear juice running down his fingers and the back his hand.
He pulled his hands out from both of you, your pussy letting him go with a sucking slurp of parting sorrow. Your body gradually runs out of energy, as well as Satoru, and the two of you finally slumped in exhaustion, trying to catch your breaths.
A relaxed smile forms onto Suguru’s face, and he moves to sit on the edge of the bed beside Satoru. A familiar silence fell over the three of you, the kind that makes warm butterflies swell in your chest.
“One day,” Satoru whispers, looks up at Suguru with that goofy grin. “We’ll get to see our handprints on your ass.”
Your lips turn upwards while Suguru arches an eyebrow, unimpressed. Still, that didn’t stop the small tugs at the corners of his mouth. Maybe next time, he’d let you see.
inspired by this post
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rafesslxt · 2 days
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HII<33 i love ur work and i was wondering if you could write one where matt sees u with another guy and gets really really jealous and it ends with mattheo like really hard core fucking the reader like bend over and stuff? (can u tell i’m ovulating?)
[sorry for the late answer but I’m cleaning my drafts and requests right now and since I have so many I‘m gonna keep them a little shorter, hope u still like it 🫶🏻]
+ i already had something similar in my drafts so i mixed it
jealous jealous jealous you | mattheo riddle
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summary: mattheo wants to make you jealous but you‘re way ahead of him
warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, spanking, doggystyle, jealousy from reader and mattheo, different house reader
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Mattheo thought he had the best plan ever. He knew you liked him, he saw the looks you gave him when you thought he wasn‘t noticing. The way he could always get under your skin with his annoying comments, your cheeks heating up when he whispered them into your ear, his hot breath hitting your skin.
But he was just as stubborn as you. So of course he wouldn‘t just admit he liked you. He wanted to make you say it so he had a plan.
Tonight it was a party where all the houses gathered together to celebrate. You knew Mattheo would be there ao of course you wore the shortest and tightest dress you owned with cute little heels on your feet. When you entered the party, it didn‘t took long for you to find Mattheo, dancing with Pansy. But what they both didn‘t knew was, you knew that Pansy liked your best friend Jane so it was obviously what kind of game he played.
But two can play that game. It didn‘t take long for you to find someone to dance. There was that boy Colin from your house that eyed you up and down so you took your chance. He pulled you towards him while dancing, your hips moving to the music and your ass brushing his jeans when you turned your back to him while dancing. You stood perfect, exactly in sight for Mattheo who looked at you over Pansy‘s shoulder.
You smiled at him provoking, leaning forwards and shaking your ass in front of Colin. That‘s it. That was all it took for Mattheo to let go of Pansy and storming towards you. Without a single word he grabbed you by your arm and pulled you away from the party.
"Let go of me Mattheo!" you groaned, but he didn‘t answer and didn‘t stop walking either. He took you up to the astronomy tower, pushing you against the railing so you where squeezed between it and his body.
"I‘m so fucking done with your games." he whipers angrily into your ear while he places his hands on your hips. "Don‘t know what you mean." you answer him with a cheeky smirk. He scoffs, turning you around with one swift motion, pushing your upper body over the railing.
"Mattheo!" you gasp loudly as your hands hold themselves at the metal beneath you. "I‘m gonna teach you a lesson now baby. It‘s called 'nobody‘s allowed to touch you besides me' understand?" be asks while slowly pushing the little fabric of your dress over your ass. You hear him groan behind you, his hands instantly on your skin.
Suddenly a sharp sting goes through you, making you gasp again in shock. You look over your shoulder and see Mattheo already smiling at you, them his hand coming down again on your cheek, leaving a mark. You bite down on your bottom lip trying to hide the moans that wanted to leave your mouth.
But soon he hits harder and you feel the wetness between your legs. "I said: Do you understand?" he repeats himself with such a sharp hit on your ass this time that a short scream left your mouth.
You feel him pulling your panties down and also hear him groan at the sight of your wet pussy. "Fuck I should have done that way earlier. Who could have known that our perfect little princess is that desperate huh?" His fingers wander over your wetness, teasing your clit in a circling motion.
Whimpers leave your mouth, wanting nothing more tham to feel him inside of you. "Please.." you start begging and wiggling your hips against him. "What was that princess? Couldn‘t quite hear you." he says in a mocking tone, knowing that he had you right where he wanted you. "Please fuck me, need you, please." little whines leave your mouth which make his cock harder every second.
He pushes two fingers inside you, making you moan desperately. He leans forwards until his mouth is next to your ear again and whispers "I‘m goimg to fuck you so hard that you won‘t even remember anything from today but my cock inside your wet little pussy."
His fingers pumping and his thumb teasing your clit made you lose your mind, making you a brainless mess. "Shit look at you already so stupid just from my fingers. What‘s gonna happen when I fuck you with my cock?" he says in a devilish tone.
"Mattheo Please.." you beg again. "Need you inside me." You hear him fumbling with his belt, opening his pants and pushing them down with his boxershorts. He rubs his cock against your ass and chuckles. "Feel this princess?" You bite your lip and nod.
He breathes out, excited to already feel you. "I‘ve waited so long to do this.." Slowly he drags his tip through your wet folds, grunting at the feeling. Then he pushes in, inch for inch, biting his lip too.
"Oh fuck you‘re so tight baby. Just waited for me to pound that pussy." he moans as he feels your walls clench around him, sucking him in. Your eyes roll back and your hands tighten around the railing.
His hands grab your hips even tigther, fucking you from behind. One of his hands goes around your body finding your clit to bring you even closer to your high. His other hand finds your throat and squeezes it, smiling when he hears your moan and your walls around him tightening.
"It feels so good Matty.." you mumble, your eyes already closed with parted lips. His fingers against your clit worked even faster, making you tremble in front of him. "Oh baby I know, and guess what?" he leans forwards again whispering into your ear. "I‘m gonna be the only one who touches you. Never ever will anothet man touch you. You‘re mine princess. And I am your‘s." His touch got a little softer around your throat as he says this. "I- I‘m yours Mattheo." you moan, feeling your heart swelling in your chest.
"That‘s my good girl hm, now come for me on my cock." Your eyes squeeze shut as his hips thrust harder and faster, his fingers still working on your clit until you see stars.
You grab his arm behind you squeezing it as you come around him with a lout and broken moan. "Oh fuck.." Mattheo smiles down on you and groans as he feels your walls spasm. "Come inside me." you mumble quietly but loud enough for him to hear.
"You sure baby?" he asks again, biting his lip when he feels his climax nearing. You nod your head, feeling powerless after your orgasm. With a final thrust he stops inside you and comes inside you and let‘s out a short and quite whimper, groaning afterwards to conceal it. But you heard anyways and smile already ready to tease him.
When you both calm down again, all sweaty and a little shaky, he pulls you off the railing against his body, kissing you for the first time. "Should have done that way earlier too.." You laugh lighty and look up into his eyes. "You have all the time now to do so.." "hmm i hope so." he answers, leaning down to kiss you again with all the love he had in him.
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thank you for reading 🫶🏻
taglist: @sofa-couch26 @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username
xoxo sarah <3
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Gym slut
Orcs x fem!human || Exhibitionism, size kink, dub-con (kinda), humiliation, sharing is caring
You’ve been watching him for months. He always arrives to the gym at the same hour as you, usually parking not too far from your car. He holds the door for you and always smiles and winks when you pass him. His tusks gleaming under the gym lights. Watching him work out is the best hobby you currently have. He’s so tall and so big. You are sure he’d tower over everyone you know. Even if his skin wasn’t the prettiest shade of green, the size of his muscles would draw your eyes to him. He’s just… massive. Twice your size if not more.
And today is the day. You are sexually frustrated and you have been carrying a gym-crush on him for months. You are going to try to have your sweet way with him. You had no plan, just horniness, as you approached him.
“Can you spot me?” You ask, looking at him from under your lashes, trying to be coy. He smirks knowingly, nodding.
He smirks, his tusks look sharp under the fluorescent lights. “Sure thing, little human.”
He helps you work out for the rest of the session, his body closer than it should, but you don’t care. You lean into him, pushing your ass against his dick as many times as possible. Pushing your boobs against his face, “accidentally” falling on his lap and slowly getting up, making sure to moan as you do so. You know you are playing with fire, his eyes are getting hotter and the outline of his dick is visible in his gym shorts. You lick your lips looking at it. He laughs, noticing.
“You want to get out of here?” He asks. You nod, anticipation filling your body.
You thought he would lead you to his car, to someplace different, but he grabs your hand and drags you to the men’s changing rooms. There’s nobody there, way too early for people to be in the gym.
He doesn’t wait for you to say anything, his mouth covering yours as he makes a quick job stripping you off your clothes. You think you hear something rip, and soon after you see your panties torn on the floor. Dang, that’s hot. He kisses your neck, pinching your nipples as his other hand travels down your abdomen, rapidly finding your clit.
He plays with your pussy for a little while, rolling his thumb over your clit as he pushes one finger inside. Then two, then three. You groan and moan as you move your hips to create friction, chasing your pleasure on his hand. His fingers are bigger than yours, so much bigger. With three of his fingers, you already feel like it’s too much. And then he pushes a fourth in, making you groan and whimper. He fucks you like that for a few minutes, not even caring that you aren’t exactly in a private area.
“Hurry up, somebody could come.” You tell him.
“I don’t care.” He chuckles, taking his time thrusting into your hungry pussy.
“I do.” You say, trying to sound stern but failing when his thumb rolls over your clit again and your words break with a groan.
“No, you don’t. You are a gym slut, you want my dick so bad you wouldn’t care if somebody came right now. Wouldn’t you?” You shake your head, but his words ignite something inside of you. “I felt your pussy flutter, you like that, don’t you? You like the idea of somebody catching us, of somebody watching you being a slut.” He punctuates the last word with a twist of his wrist, making your knees buckle under you as tremors run down your body. “I knew you’d be a little whore, I knew you’d like it rough and dirty, like the little slut you are. I’ve been watching you, flaunting your ass around, exposing your tits a bit too much. You wanted this for a while, didn’t you?” He doesn’t let you answer. “Of course you did, you’ve been dreaming of being my gym slut, right?” You say nothing, embarrassment and humiliation filling you.
You look down, avoiding his knowing eyes. He laughs, his fingers still fucking you slowly, parting his fingers slightly every once in a while. Stretching you. And then he lowers his pants, and you see what you already suspected. He’s big. Monster size big. So big it’s probably bigger than your forearm, but most of all, he’s thick. So fucking thick. There’s no way.
“I- You are too big. That’s not gonna fit.” You murmur, trying to push away from him.
He grabs you, not letting you get away, his fingers still inside of your pussy, making you groan as he twists them. “Oh yes, it will.”
“I don’t think I can do it.” He pulls his fingers out as he picks you up, one arm under your ass as he positions you right over his dick, your legs instinctively going around his hips.
“You’ve been teasing me with those leggings for months. It will fit.” Then he starts to push inside, parting your folds with his fingers as the tip of his cock breaches you. It’s too big. It won’t fit. There’s no way he’s gonna fit. But he keeps going. The bite of pain makes your pussy clench as you whimper. “Relax.” He orders. You try to, you exhale the air you were holding, feeling how the head of his cock penetrates you, making you groan.
The mixture of pain and pleasure is driving your brain into overload. You don’t know how to feel, it’s just too much. But he doesn’t care. He allows you to babble all you want, wiping your tears as they flow, but he keeps going, and going, and going. “Almost all the way in, little human.” You don’t think you can take anymore, it’s too far in, too deep, you can feel like he’s splitting you in two. You moan, tears rolling down your cheeks as he pushes the final inches inside of you. You can feel him in the back of your throat. Too much. Too deep. Too big.
He doesn’t wait for you to accommodate his size, he doesn’t wait for you to tell him it’s okay if he moves. He just starts thrusting as soon as he hits bottom, pulling almost all the way out before going back in. You feel like he’s rearranging your insides as he keeps thrusting, keeps using your whole body as a fleshlight, his hands on your hips, pushing you up and down his dick like a fuck doll.
You try to hide the embarrassment, but the way he’s using you is making it hard to hide how turned on you are. Your juices are dripping, your body accepting him inside of you, the mixture of pain and pleasure tilting the balance until the pleasure is so big you are coming around his dick. He pinches your nipple as you cum, making the climax go so high you think you can touch the stars. And he keeps going, your body goes lax in his hold, and he still doesn’t care. He keeps fucking you on his dick and grunting every time he hits bottom.
And then it happens.
You hear the door before you register what that means. “Somebody is watching, little human.” He murmurs in your ear, his dick still inside of you as he uses you like a fleshlight. Not stopping. You can’t ignore the way your pussy pulses at the thought of somebody watching. “I felt that.” He chuckles. “Wanna give him a show?” You want to say no, you want to get away, but you are drunk with pleasure and the thought of somebody watching is turning you one more than anything before. Your pussy constricts around his dick, once again telling him all he needs to know.
He turns you around, still holding all your weight with his arms, your legs up. You are folded like a pretzel, your pussy exposed completely. Your whole body exposed to the hungry eyes of the newcomer. Your gym-crush impales himself on you from behind as the person in front of you gasps. It’s another orc. Not as big as your gym-crush but still so much bigger than you. You pant, looking at him intensely as you keep being fucked. You can see the outline of his dick as he massages his hardness over his sweatpants.
The orc at your back laughs. “Look at her, bro. She’s dripping. She’s such a slut. She approached me and begged to be fucked.” You try to deny it, but you can’t talk as he keeps thrusting inside you. “And now look, her eyes are unfocused and her drool is flowing, she’s just a slut, a dirty gym slut that likes orc cock inside her pussy. Wanna touch her? She’s not gonna refuse.” You feel humiliated, but good lord if it’s not doing it for you.
The other orc approaches you as you pant, your face so flushed it burns. He lowers his head and sucks on your nipple, making you cry out as the orc behind you laughs. “See? A slut. She’s not even trying to act offended, she likes to be a slut.” The second orc laughs along with him, pinching your nipple as he plays with your tits, one hand still massaging his dick through his pants. Second orc pinches your clit next, making you whimper and try to pull away as they laugh at your inability to move away from your gym-crush hold. “Be still, little slut.” He chastises, his tone humorous. He’s having fun humiliating you, laughing at you. Your pussy clenches on his dick.
You feel embarrassed and ashamed as you moan like the slut they named you. Completely at the mercy of two big orcs. The two of them playing with your body like you are a doll made to be fucked.
Orc number two falls to his knees before you, his mouth hovering over your pussy, mere inches apart from where your gym crush is fucking you restlessly. In a heartbeat, he’s making out with your pussy, licking every inch he can reach and making your body react like a lighting just hit you. The pressure of his tusks a reminder of what they are, their otherworldliness and how much that turns you on.
Your next orgasm hits you before you can say anything at all, the two orcs giving you pleasure as you fall apart. And then you feel it, the start of something big, the telltale sign of your bladder feeling full as they keep going, not even caring that you already came. And then you are showering them, you never squirted before, but it feels too much, too fast, too oversensitive.
“Did she just squirt?” The orc behind you asks, surprised. The one between your legs nods, his face wet with your release as he licks his lips. Your whole body feels like a raw nerve as they keep going. Both of them laughing at you as they continue to ravish you.
You cum a couple times more before they stop their assault, the orc under you getting up and jerking off right over your pussy. His cum hits your clit and drips down. There’s so much of it, you feel it coating your thighs and ass before it drips to the floor. He gently pats your pussy, chuckling as you whimper. The one behind you is close behind, his thrusts going erratic as he gets as far as he can go and cums deep inside. And cums. And cums. There’s so much of it you are overflowing, his semen mixing with the one already dripping from your pussy. It’s nasty, and you feel ashamed to be enjoying it so much. You feel like the slut they call you. Like a cumslut.
“Want a turn? Her pussy is amazing, all tight and warm.” Your gym-crush asks the other, pulling out and laughing again as you whimper, both of them fixated on the amount of cum covering your pussy.
“Nah dude, I’m late for work.” He says as he pulls off his shirt and goes into the showers.
The cum is drips from your cunt, making a puddle on the floor and making you feel like the slut they called you, your pussy raw and used, his mixed cum all over it. You are sure you look like you just got the best fuck of your life.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna be late, too.” The first orc says, following him. I lay there, over the bench as I listen to them shower, not able to move just yet.
The orc who ate your pussy doesn’t even look back at you as he exists the room, not bothering to acknowledge your presence. The other one, your gym crush, walks out the shower and dresses quietly. “You should clean that, slut.” He tells you signaling the puddle on the floor. You nod, not able to say anything. He laughs again, your embarrassment making you blush from head to toe, humiliated at his words. “I hope to see you around again, gym slut.” He says as he passes you, pinching your nipple mockingly as you lay there, unable to process what just happened.
You just had the best sex of your life, being used by two orcs who you don’t even know the name of. Maybe they are right, maybe you are a gym slut.
But you can’t wait to do it again.
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nu-suave · 2 days
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JJK MEN VYING FOR YOUR ATTENTION one, two
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feat. nanami, satoru, toji word count: 780
summary: once you’ve noticed it, you don’t know how you never picked up on it; he vies for your attention.
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With Nanami, it’s as if all his priorities rearrange the moment you step foot in the room. Whatever he’s doing he’ll set down, turning to face you. No matter what, he dedicates his entire attention to you whenever you call for it; it’s hard not to feel heard or appreciated when he’s so overt about how much he cares for what you have to say. 
Don’t even get me started about the dates, either. ‘Dates’ is really the only way to describe it, even if you two are only friends - he’ll ask you out for food, taking you to try out cafe’s he’s seen or inviting you to a movie he thought you’d enjoy (even if he considers the cinema overpriced) or accompanying you to the museum whenever there’s a new exhibit he thinks you’d like. 
He’s not the most obvious with his affections, but the second you pick up on it it’s hard to miss. He’ll send you good morning texts, check to make sure you’re eating properly, and if he doesn’t hear from you every few days he’ll always check in to make sure you’re okay. He definitely enjoys acts of service, and his actions reflect that - he’ll pick up groceries for you if he’s passing by, always offers to cook dinner, and god forbid you ever insist he doesn’t have to do these things for you. It’s not about having to do something for you, it’s about wanting to do this for you; wanting to help ease the little chores in life, wanting to be there for you in the way you are for him. 
He’s more personal in the way he wants your attention—he doesn’t care about taking it away from others, just that the time he spends with you isn’t distracted by other things. He allocates a lot of his free time to make sure he can see you, gives you all his attention whenever you do talk, and he’s privately thrilled every time you do the same.
Satoru couldn’t be more obvious. It’s a wonder you didn’t pick up on it sooner. He commands your attention the second he sees you; drapes himself over you, encroaches on your space, sits beside you so close your shoulders brush every time you move. He’ll lean his head on your shoulder or, if he’s tall enough, the top of your head as you talk to other people. A greedy part of him wants to monopolise your attention, to be a constant presence by your side. 
And he talks. If you’re with someone else, he’ll butt in with his own remarks. If you’re not, he’ll keep you engaged in conversation, making you privy to his constant stream of thoughts. He knows how to be quiet and bask in companionable silence, but when he wants your attention nothing is stopping him from doing everything he can to have it. 
If that doesn’t work, he upgrades to teasing you; he snags your attention with teasing comments, meant to fluster or annoy you - whichever will have you turning to him the fastest. He doesn’t care, as long as your eyes are on him.
Toji reverts to a middle-school boy by doing what he does best: showing off. It’s awful. He’s got a good physique and he knows he’s attractive, so when he finds himself wanting your attention he very quickly puts it to use. He stretches, rolls his shoulders, draws attention to his figure. He grins when your eyes linger on the broad width of his shoulders, the visible strength of his arms, the muscle lining his back. He likes knowing you find him attractive. 
When that doesn’t work, he turns to lazy comments. He asks things of you - get me this? or he does things for you, casually grabbing the things you’re holding so you have your hands free. He makes idle comments intended to snag your attention or, if you’re particularly easy to rile up and prone to playful arguments, he’ll make callous, teasing remarks intended to set you off or fluster you. 
He doesn’t buy you things, but he’s good at lazing around and taking advantage of events as they come by. Good thing if you’re budgeting, because he’s amazing at finding stuff to do for the lowest cost. The best part is there’s a lower chance of anyone running into the two of you - all the better for him. 
And sometimes, when he’s in a particularly attention-seeking mood, he crowds into you. He’s bigger than you, taller than you, and he’ll lean down into your space until he’s the only thing you can look at, a smug grin crawling across his features. It works every time. 
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lowkeyerror · 1 day
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The Family Business Ch.11
WandaNat x Reader
Word count: 2.7k
Ch. Notes: Violence, Physical assualt
Summary: Fisk is not happy with the way things turned out regarding the docks. He makes his own power play in retaliation that puts everyone on notice.
An: Sorry for not updating yesterday guys but Im planning on posting again before Monday to make it up to you
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
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Wilson Fisk was never one to shy away from the reality of a situation. To him, living life in such a make-believe state would not propel him to the success that he craved. He had built an empire, a kingdom, but had no one to share it with. He lost his family, and with them gone the only thing to fill the void was power.
Fisk was addicted to it. He needed it. It was only thing that made him feel good. So, though his empire was large he was acutely aware that it wasn’t the largest. The Maximoff’s presence cast a large looming shadow over his own. So, he looked to take care of the problem.
Fisk knew he would shoot Dragos Maximoff as soon as they agreed to meet in private. He assumed the Sokovian was a man of his word and would come alone. He was mistaken, and he hated making mistakes.
Knowing that the Dragos was hospitalized was good at first. Fisk didn’t care if the man lived or died because he thought without Dragos in the way the Maximoff’s would crumble. He was again, mistaken.
The reality of the situation was the Wilson Fisk underestimated the remaining Maximoff’s. He was foolish to believe that New York city would become his so quickly.
An oil spill was clever. It was big, messy, and destructive, but it would always go over as an accident. Fisk realizes that simply blowing up the pier wouldn’t have halted things as much. The play was high IQ.
His large fist slammed against his desk nearly snapping in half. While the Maximoff’s were getting calls placing orders, Fisk was taking order cancelations. He was having the people he got on his side retract their support. He was losing the power, and he would not take kindly to giving up anymore.
Watching them retreat would never be enough.  He wanted the Maximoff’s to crumble beneath him, to beg him for mercy. They had embarrassed him in one foul swoop age he wild stop at nothing to have them burn with the same feeling.
You weren’t naïve enough to believe retaliation wouldn't be coming. It arguably was giving you anxiety. All the waiting and looking over your shoulder would've taken a larger toll on you if you were dealing with them alone.
However, you weren’t alone. In fact, contrary to your previous belief Wanda did not forget the terms you agreed to. You spent your nights between the spy and temporary crime boss.
It became somewhat of a routine. Even if you went to your apartment after work, you’d always end up at their place soon after. It’s nice, and that's why you refuse to question it.
It helps you sleep restfully but occupies to much of your mind when you're awake. It makes you feel like a teenager. The only person you can confide in is Kate. You tell her, but she’s not much help. Kate encourages this and pushes you to take more emotional comfort from the women.
Your feet hit the ground a little harder than normal as you run this morning. You think about the familiar, almost instinctual attraction you have for Wanda. Then your mind turns to the new undiscovered feelings you have for her wife. You found yourself craving to be in proximity with the Russian more and more.
Natasha had a warmth around her. She had no problem taking the backseat and blending in, but the moment she sensed anything was amiss she sprang into action quickly. Recently she had started making sure you had a lunch at work after Kate told her you’d usually skip it. There was no point in trying to turn down anything from the woman. Though you hadn’t known each other long it seemed like she just understood you.
You’re too occupied with your thoughts, and not paying enough attention to your surroundings. When you stop running, you go to turn around but a firm hand on your shoulder stops you. A gun is pressed firmly against your spine.
“We’re going to have a little chat. Now keep walking,” the man says guiding you with his hand.
You don’t say anything, you simply follow his instructions. Your nerves don’t fret, even as he directs you to an alley. Once you’re out of public view, he turns you to face him.
“Y/n L/n, high ranking employee of the Maximoff Family,” he spoke the gun now aimed at your sternum.
“Fisk,” you’re glare is unwavering.
He sizes you up, “Aren’t you a sweet little thing? Unfortunately, I’m going to have to put a dent in that pretty face you got.”
“Killing me would only hurt you in the long run,” you say to him.
He smiles, “It would, you’re absolutely right, but hurting you sends a message.”
“I’d like to see you try,” you keep your eyes on his.
He laughs, “Me? No, I don’t get my hands dirty for people like you. I’m only here to make sure you relay this to whoever’s in charge. Tell them that I won’t stop, tell them that surrender is no longer an option, and tell them they should keep an eye on the hospital.”
The last line sends you over the edge and before you know it, you’re attempting to disarm the mob boss. Your movements are fast but as soon as the gun is in your hand, you take a blow to the knees. You fall to the floor and the gun slides out of your hand.
Fisk bends down and picks up the gun, he tucks it into his coat. He looks down at you with a smile on his face, “Make sure she's recognizable boys. Until we meet again sweet thing."
That’s when you notice your predicament. The alley that had once been empty was now filled with Fisk’s men. The large man himself, gets into a car at the end of the alley which drives away promptly. The circle around you, but you refuse to be fragile in this moment. You slowly stand and look at the men, there’s around 8 of them. It seems like time works in slow motion.
You move first to the closest man to you and immediately twist his neck with a satisfying snap. He drops onto the floor and before you can get to another your on the floor with him. The men stomp you out harshly.
Once they’re certain they have the upper hand they begin to get more creative. The start using their fists and elbows connecting anywhere they can. The screams don't displace the pain you feel.
Your attempts to fight back only anger them further. You don’t know hoe long the beating continues for. You feel yourself slip in and out of consciousness a few times.
Blood coats your body in multiple places. You can’t tell when it starts or stops. You can barely breathe when they finally stop their assault.
“Send the Maximoff’s our regards,” one of the lackeys spit on you before laying a final nasty kick to your gut. He walks out of the alley with his men behind him.
Your back lay flat against the concrete as you stare up at the sky. Turning your head hurts, but you do it anyway. Carefully, you scoot yourself over to the wall and try to prop yourself up.
It was only a matter of time before someone came looking for you. You should’ve been by now and you weren’t. Knowing Wanda and Natasha the search party would be deployed soon.
However, keeping your consciousness was becoming a task. Your breaths are shallow and labored. The pain finally starts to set in, and tears fall from your eyes. Everything hurts, so much so that you're afraid to try to stand up.
It couldn’t have been longer than half an hour when a car pulls up in the alleyway. Your head hangs heavy, and you hope to God that these people are on your side.
Pietro is the first to reach you. He can’t find any words to say as he sees you in this state. He begins to shake his head as he bends down to get a better look at you. His hand cups your face gently and it trembles.
It hurts, but you reach your hand out to hold his wrist, “Jesus Christ, Y/n.”
You hear more steps approaching, but you stay focused on the man in front of you.  You’re scared for them to see you like this.
“Y/n,” There’s disbelief on her tongue as she whispers your name. She doesn’t want this to be you, but as your bloody tear-stained face raises to meet her eyes, her resolve crumbles.
Wanda can’t help the tears that immediately begin to fall out of her eyes. Your face had begun to swell, blood dripped from your nose, your lip was bleeding too. They could see the bruises beginning to form over your exposed arms and torso.
You gaze over at the other redhead who refuses to look at you. Her body posture is rigid, and her eyes are cast firmly on the ground, you can see how cloudy they are.
“We have to get her to the hospital,” Pietro says.
You nearly scream out, “NO!”
They see the alarm and panic in your face, but Natasha tries to reason with you, “Y/n, you’re hurt badly. They need to check you out or-"
“Bucky,” you cut her off, looking between Pietro and Wanda.
“Y/n, he doesn’t do that anymore and you know that” Pietro says softly.
“Try,” you counter back.
Pietro looks to his sister who nods. He reluctantly leaves his position next to you and pulls out his phone to make the call.
“Why not the hospital?”
You shake your head, but then wince, “It’s not safe.”
“Who said it wasn’t safe baby?” Wanda takes Pietro’s place hand in yours.
“Fisk, he said- he won’t stop, there’s no surrender, and that we should watch the hospital,” you attempt to struggle to your feet.
“Y/n-"
“We have to get Papa out Wanda. He’s not safe there, we have to move him, we have to,” you begin to work yourself up feeling the anxiety finally starts to hit you.
It's Natasha’s firm hand on your shoulder that keeps you in place, “Y/n, breath with me.”
You go to protest, but the look of worry in her eyes causes you to pause. She takes a deep breath in, and you try to copy her, but you end up wincing.
Wanda sees this and lifts up your shirt to see your midsection badly bruised. Her touch is tender as her fingers glide over the faded cut on your side.
“You think anything they did will leave a scar like that?” You say with shallow breaths.
“If they weren't already going to die for doing this to you, I’d kill them for leaving a cut like that on you,” she says pulling your shirt back down.
Pietro walks back over to the three of you, “He said he'll do it, we just have to get her there.”
Wanda scoops you into her arms and walks you to the car. She carefully lays you down in the backseat before getting in herself. Pietro drives and Natasha takes the passenger seat. Wanda’s hand finds its way into your hair, trying to bring you any type of comfort.
“He told them to leave me recognizable, so they didn't focus to hard on my face after awhile,” you say to them.
“How many were there?” Natasha asks.
“8, 7 really I snapped that guys neck first,”  you recount.
“How did he get you?” Pietro asks next.
You frown, “I wasn’t paying enough attention when I was running. He came up behind me and put a gun to my back.”
“He pulled a gun on you?” You can feel the woman getting upset.
You take your hand and place it in hers, “I will be fine. Bucky’s going to patch me up real nice.”
Once you arrive at the former doctors house, you’re greeted by a less than enthusiastic James Buchanan Barnes or Bucky for short.
“I retired for a reason you know?” He says as he let’s you all into his home.
The sight of you in Wanda’s arms startles him a bit. Wanda asks, “Where are we putting her?”
“Upstairs second door on your right,” he finds himself quickly leading them to the room.
Wanda is careful as she lays you down. They all stand as Bucky begins to prepare for this job.
“What happened to you kid, were you hit by a bus?”
“8 on 1 attack,” Pietro explains.
“The bus might’ve been better then,” Bucky says as he begins to check the extent of your injuries.
You try not to move too much as he pokes and prods your body. Sometimes you hiss, groan, but you don’t flinch.
“So, what’s the diagnosis Buck?” Wanda has her eyes on you as she speaks.
“Luckily, I don't think anything is broken, but her ribs are severely bruised, and I think her right ankle is sprained. Besides that, I think it's just bruising and some small cuts. Her nose is fine, her lips are fine, and her head is fine. She’s going to have to keep her weight off of her leg and wrap her torso until she’s healed.”
Wanda nods, committing the words to memory, “What do I owe you?”
He shakes his head, “Nothing, anything for your family.”
Pietro smiles, “What would take for you to come back and be our family doctor. We’re going to need one soon.”
Bucky rolls his eyes, “What you need a check up?”
Natasha speaks for the first time, “We’re going to war with Fisk.”
He winces, “Definitely sounds like you'll need a doctor, but I’m retired Ms.…”
“Natasha, Wanda’s wife,” she introduces herself.
“Congratulations, I hope you enjoy your marriage like I enjoy my retirement” he speaks genuinely.
“Buck, we could really use you on our side. Without Papa leading us, we need all the help we can get,” Wanda tries to sway him.
“What do you mean Dragos isn’t leading you?”
The room turns somber as Wanda begins to explain the situation to Bucky. The man keeps a neutral face through it all. He lets out a large sigh at the end of everything.
“When this is over, I'm going back into retirement understood?”
Wanda nods, “Thank you.”
After you leave Bucky’s, Pietro drops you all off at home. Wanda and Natasha help you into their apartment. They sit you on the couch with them on either side of you.
“I’ve sent some extra forces to the hospital to keep watch over Dragos. I’ve also told some of my people on the inside to take care of any of those men that did this to you,” Natasha’s jaw twitches as she speaks.
“Good,” you say flatly.
There’s a tension in the room. It’s weird considering how comfortable you’ve all been around each other. However now as you sit silently on the couch the air feels thick.
“You could’ve died in that alley,” Wanda speaks first.
You nod your head slightly, “I could’ve.”
“He could’ve shot you down right there,” she continues.
“But he didn’t,” you counter.
Wanda looks at her wife, silently asking for help. Natasha knows what Wanda wants to do and she supports it.
“Y/n, we have to talk about something, and we don’t know how it’s going to make you feel,” Natasha says taking ahold of your hand.
You nod at her words.
“And please, just listen before you say anything else,” Wanda’s nerves are present in her voice.
“Ok.”
The tension hasn’t left the room. You sit there, between the couple still slightly in pain. You hardly feel it though, all you could feel was the anxious air around you, waiting for the women to speak. It was nerve-wracking, it was stomach churning, and it was scary.
The thought of losing you terrified Wanda. The thought of losing you, without ever telling you how she felt was even more terrifying. She couldn’t wait any longer after the events of the day. It was her sign, and she was ready.
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Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989
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sunkissed-zegras · 2 days
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𝐓𝐈𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐊 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄 ─ PB⁵
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౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "But imagine paige bueckers with girlfriend who applied lip plumper. Like a tik tok prank" for @splash-candy
─ word count | 480
─ warnings | nothing but light language, teasing and a tiny kiss!
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @boiliatfu and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
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YOU PROPPED YOUR camera come on the car dash and watched as Paige enter the car with your drinks.
"Dude, the barista was so rude." Paige huffed as she handed you the drink, not noticing the camera that was recording the two of you.
You took the drink from her grip and smiled, trying to hide your amusement at Paige's irritation. "Really? What did they do?" you asked, taking a sip of your drink and glancing at the camera discreetly, making sure it was still recording.
Paige sighed, sinking into the passenger seat. "They just had this rude ass attitude, you know? Like they were doing me a favor by making my coffee like it's not their job."
You laughed as you sipped the coffee, nodding along sympathetically. "I'm sorry babe, but hey. They made the coffee really good, so that's a plus."
"I guess," Paige sighed as she got out her phone and checked the time. You got out your lip gloss from your purse, putting some on quickly as Paige watched you, a smile appearing on her face as she wet her lips slightly.
You caught Paige's smile in the corner of your eye and couldn't help but return it, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. "You like that shade?"
"Mhm," she responded as she kept her gaze on your lips.
You laughed, a blush creeping on your face. "Want some?" You puckered out your lips with a playful smirk, teasing Paige.
She leaned and gave you a quick kiss before you laughed into the kiss, unable to maintain your serious face. You glanced toward the camera with a laugh as Paige looked at you suspiciously as she leaned back into the driver's seat.
"Why are you acting so weird?" Paige asked as she gave you a side-eye, putting the car in drive as she pulled out of the parking lot.
"I'm not acting weird, baby." You replied casually as you bit your lip to suppress your laugh. A few moments pass and your lips began to sting, indicating the plumper had begun to work.
"Dude, what the fuck." She scrunched her nose as her lips began to sting and you couldn't help but burst into laughter at her reaction. "Did you put on that stupid lip plumper? Bro, my lips hurt," she whined as you rolled your eyes at her dramatic reaction.
"It's not that bad, P." You replied as you took out your phone to record Paige as she rolled her eyes, grabbing your phone playfully. "Come on, it's just a little tingle," you teased.
"Are you tryna make us a damn TikTok couple," she groaned as she gave you back your phone as you laughed at her reaction. "But if you post it, tag me."
"I'm sure everyone will know it's you, baby." You responded with a soft laugh, glancing back at your girlfriend.
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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justporo · 2 days
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Hi JustPoro! I wanted to share an observation with you. Maybe you can turn this into some headcanon, fanfic or just share your thoughts on it? I just started my second BG run, romancing Astarion again. I didn't really see/notice it months ago on my first run, but now it's so obvious that when Astarion is sincere he always touches his own hands and fingers, like a tell. One moment he leans forward, looks you in the eye, spreads his arms, demanding all your attention. But the next moment he looks to the side, his words become smaller, he puts his hands in front his body and starts playing with his fingers, basically shrinking back into himself, even if he still smiles. It happens a few times and it's such a heartbreaking detail. How do you think the Tav would react when they first catch on to this?
Hi Anon, thank you so much for hopping in my inbox. And oh, this is a very good observation. So I wanted to write a little drabble about it.
If you see any typos: no you don't (it's not proofread, psst)
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As a former thief you knew a tell when you saw one.
Because back in your thieving days it was part of your set of skills needed to survive. You had to know when someone was trying to rip you off. 
Astarion had a tell. Quite an obvious one too.
You hadn’t fully figured out yet what it was he was lying to you about or trying to hide from you. But it was clear that something was up, something going on behind these unusual crimson eyes, whenever he started to fidget with his hands.
Admittedly, you probably had figured it out as quickly as you did because you had stared at his hands quite often. They were beautiful hands: quite big, long, elegant and immaculately cared for fingers. You had to admit you had a thing for hands; but Astarion’s especially.
You knew exactly what those hands could do: from lockpicking even the meanest locks and making it look like magic in its own respect to dramatically being flailed around to underline the point the vampire was making; to oh so easily finding this delicate spot between your legs, caressing it, toying with it, making you lose your mind - with nothing but a touch of those fingers.
But the physical intimacy you had shared didn’t mean you were on the same terms in other aspects of your relationship.
And so the first time you noticed Astarion’s small nervous habit you didn’t let it show that you had noticed. It had been a delicate subject obviously. One of those rare moments where the vampire let precious details of his past slip.
From just the few things he had shared with you, you could imagine the horrors he must have lived through.
And from the way his body gave him away, you were sure of the pain it still caused him.
It was when his shoulders fell, his whole body basically folding in on himself from his usual cocksure flamboyant posture and attitude. His ruby eyes seemed leagues and eons away, still lingering agony swimming in them.
Those were the moments where unconsciously he started to nervously play around with his hands, obviously not even noticing. Tugging on the fingers of the other hand, pressing the thumb into the palm of the other - as if trying to give himself at least a bit of reassurance or to pull himself back by the pressure applied. And then the moment quickly passed again. Hands falling to his side again.
And so you took note but remained silent.
Until this fateful night back at Moonrise towers when Astarion had made a confession to you, you hadn’t ever expected.
Immediately it had been obvious how upsetting and strenuous it must have been for him to bring himself to even bring it up with you. So much so that you were sure he must be close to ripping his own fingers off judging by the way he worked while he opened up about his feelings for you.
So if this wasn’t the moment which would it ever be? As Astarion kept speaking you stepped closer, his eyes immediately growing big and round. So obviously afraid. Not of but of what he feared was about to happen. His words died on his lips as the vampire could only stand and watch, positively becoming a statue. His hands froze in position in front of his chest.
That’s where you gently grabbed them from with your own. He let you. Too shocked to react in any other kind of way.
“Did you notice,” you began as you started to gently massage them “that you tug on your hands when you’re upset or nervous or…” You blushed a little as you didn’t manage to finish your question, letting your gaze drop from his to where his hands were mingled with yours.
“I do?” Astarion replied bewildered, fully thrown off his groove and what he had planned to say.
You nodded, still not able to look up at him again, but kept softly soothing his fingers.
Silence fell between you as you kept going, feeling how your warmth spread to him.
After a long while you found the courage to look Astarion in the eyes again. He seemed transformed. A gentle smile was tugging on his lips, eyes full of warmth and kindness. None of that fearful behaviour that made him sink into himself but also none of the cocky performance he so often put on.
Instead, Astarion seemed genuine. Probably more so than you had seen him be this far.
And when he finally continued his speech, you felt more of that. All while you kept holding onto his hands. And - as you felt by the end of it - as he was holding onto yours.
Later, you of course still noticed those moments when Astarion nervously toyed around with his hands. But now you had no good reason to not go and do something about it.
So, whenever you noticed it happening you softly grabbed his hands, untangled his fingers and wrapped them with yours. Or pressed your palm against his. Or kissed his fingers one by one. Until the moment had passed.
And later still, when Astarion had started to learn to rely on you, you found he sometimes came to you, grabbing your hands for a bit of support. You squeezed his in reassurement and let your thumb wander over the back of his hand in these moments - until he squeezed back. A silent thank you, you’ve come to know.
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Text
Winter's King 15
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: One more day and I'm a homeowner
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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You slow to a crawl amid the retinue of carts and horses. The sun beams down relentlessly on the summer fields. As you laze in a sheen of sweat, Bryce works to tie a swath of linen over the cart in a makeshift canopy. You thank him for his effort, his own brow slick with sweat as he tugs at his mail. 
“I admit my winter’s hide is not made well for this sun,” he utters as he reaches to pet Daisy, the loyal steed tied to his new one as he rides in step with her. “Let’s hope we might reach the tundra in due time.” 
“Mm, it is rather hot,” you murmur, exhausted from the endless blaze. It’s three days thus far and many more ahead of you. 
“Little maid, cannot complain even when you should,” he tuts. 
The cart rolls on, rocking your body as the hooves clomp down on dusty grass. As the train passes over the lands, they leave a trodden path in their stead. The progress is steady but sluggish. 
The wheels creak and lurch to a halt as Bryce reins in both horses. You sit up and peer ahead, unable to see more than horse tails and overloaded carts, the helms of soldiers shining under the sun. The knight on his dark steed sits up straighter, alert as he leans forward. 
“Eh, maid, keep watch on the mare,” he tosses the reins at you as the royal party comes to a halt. 
His horse kicks up dirty as he gallops around the edge of the train. You watch him bend over the beast’s long neck and hurdle ahead of the clog of vehicles and bodies. Something is amiss. 
You wait, nervous, as other servants cluster together and wonder aloud. Soldiers mill up and down the winding retinue, themselves sharing no more than looks. You climb out of the cart and walk on your cramped legs. You stroke Daisy’s head as she huffs through her nostrils and nuzzles your shoulder. 
“I don’t know either,” you tell her softly. 
The pause stretches on and Bryce returns, his horse in a lather. He swings off and lands solidly on his feet. He looks between you and the grey mare. 
“Some hold-up, nothing to worry for,” he explains, “enough time to find some water for these beasts.” 
He takes Daisy’s reins and hands them to you, “come, there is a river near. I can smell it.” 
You peek ahead and squint. You don’t know that you believe it is nothing though you can’t find a reason to argue. You nod and tug on Daisy’s bit. 
The soldier leads you across the grass, well away from the front of the train. Others disperse to sit in the meadow and chew on their rations. You continue into the trees and the trickle of the promised water has Bryce proudly exclaiming. He weaves his way around the trunks to come upon the bank, putting his dark brown horse to drink. As the larger stallion laps noisily, Daisy lowers her head and patiently gulps up the ripples. 
“Where did you find Chestnut?” you ask. “He must be a castle horse.” 
“Aye, he was locked away in some stall. They said he is vicious. Due to be horse pie.” 
“Horse pie? But he is fast.” 
“They did not lie. He likes to nip,” Bryce warns as you step between the horse, “watch your fingers, mouse.” 
“Perhaps he only did not like being locked up,” you suggest and gently touch the horse’s long mane, working out a tangle in the hair. He doesn’t seem to notice. 
“Chestnut?” Bryce says, “you’ve given him a name of your own.” 
“You didn’t say if he had one,” you brush your hand over the fine short hairs along the horse’s shoulder. “I thought it suited him.” 
“Mm, I might call his Hellion but Chestnut is kinder, I s’pose.” 
You chuckle. The horse lifts its head and you near the river’s edge. It turns to sniff you and Bryce reaches for your arm. The horse drips water onto you as it sniffs your neck. It lifts its lip, showing its square teeth, then touches its nose to yours, turning back to the water to nicker. 
“Mm, you do have a way of taming the wildest creatures, eh,” he muses as he lets you go. “Come, I saw some berries back in the bush.” 
You leave the horses near the water and follow the soldier between the trees. As he squats to pluck out dark blackberries, you sway on your feet and glance back toward the road. 
“Why have we stopped, sir?” You ask. 
“Told ya, no matter to worry for,” he stands and offers you a handful, “be thankful for it. We’ve found a nice horde and it will do ya good to be out of the sun. And to eat.” 
You accept the bounty and frown. You know he isn’t telling you all but you know he wouldn’t do so without reason. You stand and pick at the berries, biting in hungrily as the juices coat your mouth. The soldier eats as he picks, plucking a few into his purse as well. 
“How do ya like squirrel meat?” He stands again, “I could find us a morsel for the evening fire. Perhaps a hare if I can.” 
“If you like, sir,” you accept. You chew your lip and search the trees. “Is there truly nothing wrong?” 
“I told ya not to worry,” he growls. “So don’t trouble yerself.” 
He beckons you back towards the river. You follow, not asking any more questions. It’s expected that the road won’t be easy, something just feels awry. 
⚔️
The party makes camp at the point of the delay. You return to the road as Bryce grumbles about the evening warmth. The dry heat lingers in the air even as the sun begins its descent. 
“Come, you will need look in on the queen, I’m certain,” he ties the horses to the cart and urges you along. 
You notice less soldiers as you stride through the train. It’s not so crowded as before. The missing bodies add to your uneasiness. Still, the queen’s tent has been erected and guards keep vigil right outside. You enter and find her alone. She has a veil over her hair as she taps the brim of a cup with her fingernail. 
“Alas, a maid!” She snaps as she sees you, “I’ve been calling for wine all night and those damned soldiers only bring me water.” 
“Your highness,” you back out of the tent. The soldiers do not move. 
You go to the luggage and search for a bottle. You grab one and return to the tent. The soldier at your right extends his arm before you can enter. 
“No wine,” he snatches the bottle, “king’s orders.” 
You blanch and look ahead at the silken flap. You nod and thank the soldier as he keeps the wine under his arm. You blow out between your breath and once more push through the draped fabric. 
“Your highness, there is to be no wine. The king has commanded it,” you say meekly. 
“Pardon me? Who are you to refuse me?” She stands and snarls. “My head is on fire, I need wine.” 
“Yes, your highness, but the king--” 
“I am the queen. My order is a good as his. Bring me wine. Now. You little twit.” 
You stare at her unmoving. 
“They won’t allow it, your highness--” 
A flurry of veil and skirts rushes towards you. Before you can react, a scalding heat radiates over your cheek, the force behind the queen’s slap rattling your head. You stagger back and clutch your head between your hands. 
“You stupid girl! I am the queen! You are a dumb maid!” She strikes you again, her hand glancing off your forearm, “stupid stupid twit!” 
She continues to hammer you with blows, closing her fists as she hits your shoulders and stomach. You shrink down, curling into yourself as you keep your head shielded. She huffs, tired from her assault, and twirls away. 
“I don’t want to see you unless you have a bottle in hand,” she snarls and kicks over the stool. “Go before I have you gutted.” 
You wine and stand straight, lip quivering. You turn and hold your left shoulder as it thrums. You step into the night air, aware that the soldiers could no doubt hear the queen’s fit. They say nothing and you don’t either. 
You continue through the train of bodies. You feel your cheek pulsing and your brow swelling. You keep your head down and as you reach the cart, you relieved to find it alone but for the two dozing horses. You climb up and turn towards the wooden wall, hiding against it as you hug the cushion. 
It isn’t so different from Debray, only that you don’t have Merinda to hold you, to share in your pain. You always preferred that it was you who faced the rather of the ladies. You only hope Lady Rezlyn isn’t issuing the same displeasure upon your companion. 
⚔️
The morning comes with the tweeting of birds and a distant rumble. You sit up and look towards the sky. There are no clouds to forewarn a storm. You stare into the horizon where the thunderous noise rolls over the plains. 
You see the figures on their approach. Men on horses. As soldiers rush to confront them, their alarm is eased by the wave of a familiar banner. It is the king and his party. 
Bryce grumbles as Daisy sniffs him and the coughs into his hand. He shakes his head as you lean out of the cart, watching the specks on the tapestry of green grass. You gasp as you feel him grip your wrist. 
“Eh, mouse, what’s happened to ya?” He demands as he pulls your attention back from the distance. 
You look at him and the tenderness in your cheek reminds you of the queen’s wrath. You wiggle free of his grasp and sit back against the side of the wagon. You shake your head. 
“I went to... the bushes to relieve myself, sir. I tripped.” 
He squints at you, his square jaw gritting. He stares daggers at you. You’re not a good liar but you can’t tell him the truth. 
“Tripped?” He echoes as his thick brows furrow. 
“Yes, sir, it was dark,” you say. “I’ll be alright.” 
“Mm, you look as if you were caught by a bear.” 
“Really, sir, I am well,” you put your head down. 
He growls under his breath and turns away. He fiddles around with his saddle bag before he returns to the cart. He reaches over the top, holding a folded cloth with an acrid smell roiling off of it. 
“Put it on ya face,” he demands. “It’ll soothe ya, make you a little less puffy.” 
“Thank you, sir.” 
“You don’t go trippin’ no more. If ya do, ya let me know,” he scowls. 
You nod, sinking into a tense silence. You both know it’s a lie but neither of you will admit it. You put the cloth to your cheek and exhale. It cools your skin though the smell burns your nose. 
⚔️
That night you don’t return to the queen’s tent. Bryce claims there’s no need for it. She needs her sleep, as do you. It’s another lie you won’t call out. 
Several days pass in the cart. Short nights followed by sweltering days. It’s as if there is no end to the road or the heat. 
You sit on your knees, looking ahead as Bryce chews sweet leaves and spits onto the ground. Daisy’s tail sweeps behind her as she keeps a steady trot. You watch the progress with impatience, each moment feeling more and more trapped in the cart. 
“...down in Debray...” you hear a voice drift back. 
“...don’t like traitors, suppose...” another returns and you search over the carts to try to place the speakers. 
“Careful, mouse,” Bryce warns, “you’ll fall under the wheels. 
You sit back and face him, holding onto the side of the cart, “sir, what happened?” 
“What do ya mean? We’ve been riding,” he sniffs. 
“No, days ago, when we stopped. Something... in Debray?” 
He grimaces and spits out the leaves completely. He shakes his head, clearing his throat. 
“Nothing a maid needs worry about,” he girds. 
“I know, sir, my apologies. I’m only curious...” you hang your head, “I... I was raised there, is all.” 
He hums and rocks with the motion of Chestnut’s steps, “skirmish up a ways. Party on their way to the castle. Certainly, you know your former master’s deceit has bought him little good will.” 
“A skirmish?” 
“Ah, so it was, but nothing very dire. The king returned in good spirits, that rat lord—the duke with him,” Bryce explains, “course, it only suits that the lord should see to the defence of his own castle.” He chortles, “shouldn’t tell ya, maid, so ya keeps your lips sealed, but the duke meant to hide in the queen’s tent.” He shakes his head and sighs, “in the Hinterlands, them sortsa lords aren’t lords for long.” 
“Mm,” you purse your lips thoughtfully, “but... but the duke, he helped end the war.” 
“By betraying his kingdom. We didn’t come to conquer; we came to unite. Turns out, there’s more fractures than those between winter and summer. Shoulda know by Yellow Waleran’s deeds.” 
“Yellow?” You wonder. 
“Mouse, it is a lot you needn’t worry for. All I can say is a king isn’t much of one if he don’t keep his word,” he sighs, “any lord or man lacks substance if he melts like ice.”  
You look down and watch Chestnut’s legs. You slant your lips. 
“King Geralt, did he have some agreement with Waleran then?” 
Bryce snorts, “too clever. Promises. Broken promises. Deadly things.” 
You nod and hold your chin, “and King Geralt, he is a good king?” 
“Do you not know by now?” He asks with a smirk, “he is a man who keeps his word. A man who fights for his people, not for gold and a name. No good winter lord would kneel to a man built on coin. Blood, that buys crowns. It buys loyalty.” 
You lower yourself onto your bottom and draw your knees up, “for his people?” 
“You heard him say it, you summer’s blood are one with us now. Once he has his heir, it will all be set in flesh. A prince to join the realm,” Bryce says, “let us hope he comes soon. The king’s done his part, he’s fought his battles, now it is up to your queen to claim her victory.” 
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pucked-bunnie · 3 days
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made for this⎜j.marino
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pairings: john marino x reader prompts: "I'm proud to be seen with you." + "Can you zip up my dress for me?" genre: fluff ⎜friends - to - lovers ⎜ warnings: insecure reader ⎜mentions of weight gain ⎜chubby reader ⎜comments about weight ⎜reader gets bullied ⎜fake wags (didn't want to make anyone a villian so I made them up) ⎜p.s. sorry Pittsburg word count: 4.3 k note: this started off to be a short prompt request and ended up being a little longer - all events in this are fictional and the timeline is not accurate - I also went down a john marino rabbit hole and found out some interesting things - like did you know he has a twin brother?? anyway i hope you enjoy!
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PRESENT - EARLY 2024
“John?” You call into the empty hallway, fiddling with the zipper on the back of your dress, just slightly out of reach. “John?” You call again, hearing quick footsteps up the hallway as he wanders in the bedroom taking a quick glance over your outfit. 
“I think we should go to casino night, every night.” He lets out a low whistle, as you turn your back to him with an eye roll motioning to the zip on the back of your dress. “Can you zip up my dress for me?” You ask pulling your hair out of the way as his nimble finger make quick work of the tiny metal zip. 
“Do you think this is enough?” You ask quietly as John smooths the back of your dress, his hands sitting on your waist as he glances at you in the mirror. He watches as your hands fiddle with the skirt of the dress, the light blue satin stopping mid calf, the tight corset top sinching in your waist, it was the same dress you had worn four years earlier at an event when John had started in Pittsburg - the dress had been hidden in the back of your closet since. “The girls in the group chat said that it’s a more casual black tie, but the casino event in Pittsburg was always said to be casual and people dressed like it was the met gala.” John smiles as he loops his arms around your waist, continuing - patiently - to watch as you adjust your accessories and hair. 
“The girls in the group chat would be correct.” John noted, watching as you frown at yourself in the mirror. “You’re overthinking it.” He warns, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before dropping his chin to your shoulder. “Besides, Jack messaged earlier and asked if sneakers are black tie.” John smiles as you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head at the younger players' antics. 
“What if people don’t like me?” Your question is barely audible - and John frowns, your hands going back to fiddling with the dress. “I just don’t want a repeat of Pittsburg.” John’s frown deepens again remembering the first event he had convinced you to go to after being signed to the penguins. 
“It won’t be like that - everyone here is super nice.” He reassures, pressing kisses against the skin of your shoulder, his soft curls ticking the side of your face. 
“I just can’t help but think about what they said sometimes.” 
“Well try harder - what a bunch of middle aged entitled women say means nothing” You hands reach for Johns as he moves to pull away from you, your grip keeping his arms latched around your middle. “I think you look amazing.” John says softly, his fingers weaving with yours as he squeezes your hands. 
“I’ll always be proud of you and who you’ve become.” He adds for good measure and you let out a high pitched whine, dabbing at your eyes quickly as you glare at him. 
“I appreciate the sentiment but right now is not the time to make me cry - it’ll ruin my makeup.” John just chuckles, pressing one more kiss into your hair before letting you go, the two of you grabbing the last of your stuff before leaving the apartment. 
This would be the first time you would meet John’s teammates and their families - after a rough experience at John’s old team you were hesitant to meet his new one until he could reassure you that they were all wonderful - two years is how long it took to convince you to finally come to an event, managing to get one of the players girlfriends to add you to the WAG group chat so you felt a little more at ease knowing a few people. 
It was around a twenty minute drive to the venue, the New Jersey Devils renting out a large hotel ballroom and setting it up for a casino night charity event - the event would be more formal unlike their normal sweep the deck events but was supposed to still feel genuine and homely. John had picked one of his favourite suits - the checkered navy blue suit one of your favourites too - his hair was swept away from his face though his curly were unruly and a few fell out of position to sit against his forehead. 
“I’m really glad you’re coming tonight.” He said softly as he pulled the car into the valet spot - slipping out of the driver's side to hand them the keys, before rushing around to help you out of the car, guiding you to the front steps as the valet handed him the return ticket. 
You both thank the worker before slowly ascending the steps into the venue - gentle music streaming into the lobby. “Luke is so excited to meet you.” John adds, his hand on the small of your back as he steps towards the ball room, smiling kindly at the host who opens the door for him. 
The girls in the group chat were right. 
Though the event was definitely still formal, no one was dressed above and beyond, most people seemed to prefer something a little more comfortable. You smile down at your dress choice, satisfied with the sky blue satin, John's hand rubbing soft circles on your back as he waves his hand above the crowd. 
It’s hard to miss the six foot two defense man who awkwardly shoves his way through the crowd towards the two of you - his own curly hair rivaling John’s as he stops in front of the two of you, a crooked grin on his face. “I’m Luke” He says quickly, reaching out his hand for yours, the motion a reminder of the first time you met John - you smile up at him, placing your hand in his as he gives it a quick shake, saying your name quickly. 
“I need your honest opinion.” Luke says quickly - you wait for his question taking in his checkered suit a small chuckle bubbling in your throat as you realise how similar it is to Johns. “Curtis said my hair’s too fluffy.” The younger man says, his finger instinctively running through the curls. “Is it really that bad?” Luke finally asks - John barks out a laugh, coughing a little as you ram your elbow into his side. 
“It looks fine, Luke - I’m sure Curtis is just messing with you.” You reassure the player, your words seemingly taking a weight off him as his shoulder relaxes a little more. 
“John’s told me a lot about you.” Luke says as he glances over to his teammate with a cheeky smile, “He said that you were head over heels for him from the first time you met.” Your mouth falls open as you flick a glare over to your boyfriend. 
“Oh did he now?” You watch as John begins mouthing some angry words to Luke, slicing his hand at his neck as you turn away from him, “Let me tell you how we actually met.” 
+
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PAST - LATE 2017
You first meet John in college - the two of you wide eyed freshmen walking into your bio-chem class with clear anxiety.
You had taken a seat towards the front of the class, hoping it would deter people from sitting too close to you - spreading out your textbooks and laptop over the surface as fellow students continued to pass by your desk. 
You didn’t even notice him approaching until he stopped beside you, waiting for your attention to turn towards him and away from your computer screen.  
“Do you mind if I sit there?” He asked softly, pointing at the seat beside you, a nervous grin on your face as you nod quickly in response - clearing your books off the chair beside you.
You couldn’t quite get a grasp for who he was from a first glance - the boy was obviously built like an athlete, tall and lanky but maintaining a lean and muscular build - but the textbooks he swipes from his bag, already donned with notes and highlighter markings are telling a different story. 
“My name’s John.” He said quietly as the teacher entered the room, lifting his hand between the two of you in a friendly gesture. You take hold of his hand giving it a gentle shake as you tell him your own name, watching as he mouths the word a few times with a determined nod. 
Your first class passes by quickly - which to be fair could be because you spent the whole lesson watching John in the seat next to you - his eyes glued on the projector screen at the front of the class, his hand diligently taking notes. 
“Hey, do you want to go grab a drink at the cafe down the street sometime? We could compare notes?” John asks as he begins to pack up his stuff, the teacher dismissing the class earlier than scheduled. 
“Umm…” You stall, shoving your completely empty notebook into your bag, looking around as if an excuse would appear into thin air. 
“Sorry, it was stupid of me to ask.” He says quickly, a tight smile on his mouth as he throws his bag over one shoulder, “You’ve probably got a hundred other people to meet up with.” He says with a soft chuckle, his hand raising to rub at the back of his neck. 
“I don’t.” You say quickly, frowning at your mouth's betrayal. “Maybe we could meet after the next
 lesson? I still have a few more induction classes this afternoon.” 
John nods quickly, yanking a pen out of the side of his backpack, rolling up his blue flannel shirt offering both the pen and his bare skin towards you. You stare at him in confusion as he glances between you and his arm. 
“Your phone number?” He asks quickly - a snorted chuckle escaping you as you pull your phone from your back pocket, opening the device and handing it to him. 
“How about you just put yours in my phone and we save your skin from the sharpie?” You suggest, John quickly tucking the pen away, the tips of his ears a flaming red as he takes your phone from your hands. 
“Yeah, that’s a better idea.” He mumbles handing the phone back to you once he’s typed his number in, his contact name ripping another chuckle from you. 
John - the guy from biochem
You knew straight away that this boy was going to weasel his way into your life quicker then anyone else had before. 
+
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PAST - MID 2019
The year after you had met John passed by quickly - the two of you spending any limited free time you had together. John had quickly introduced you to the world of hockey three weeks after you met when he invited you to come to one of his games, a single student ticket in his hand as he waited for you to take it. 
And after forty two hours of researching hockey obsessively you had shown up to the game in the classic crimson and white school colours watching number 12 race around the ice with his teammates. 
You were quick to discover a love for Johns favourite sport - the game fast paced and easier to follow than you expected and John was quick to invite you to every home game in the near future - a ticket to the game slipped into your notebook after every biochem class the two of you had together - but still John never asked the question that sat in the back of your mind. 
It was mid summer break after the 2018 - 2019 semester when a phone call had changed everything. 
‘John - the guy from biochem is calling’
“Is now a good time to talk?” He had said when you answered the call, and you had quickly excused yourself from the family barbecue to move to a quieter area of the house. 
“What’s up?” You say softly but you can feel your heart racing in your chest. A silence falls over the two of you as John lets out a long sigh, “John, what going on? You’re scaring me.” 
“I got an offer.” 
“You what?” 
“I got an offer for a contract with Pittsburgh.” You can almost hear the way your heart shatters at his words - he was leaving? 
“John that’s amazing.” You say softly, slowly taking a seat on your mothers couch, you thumb lifting to your mouth as you naw on the skin besides your nail, “I mean this is your dream, this is what you’ve been working for.” You add quickly, a small bubble of genuine excitement bubbling beneath your broken heart. 
“I don’t know if I’m going to take it.” 
“What? You can’t not take it John, this is your shot.” You frown as you press your phone harder against your ear. 
“Yeah I know, but what about—” He pauses. 
“What about what, John? This is the NHL we’re talking about here, not some home town rec league” He lets out a long groan, the sound seeming far away, his phone probably pulled away from his face. 
“I’m not good at this stuff.” He admits quietly, his phone pressed back to his ear, and you wait - patiently - like you always do for him to continue. “I want you to come with me.” The words are not something you expected to hear today or any day for that matter. 
“What the fuck?” You didn’t mean to say the words, they just sort of slipped out. 
Having a close friendship and borderline flirtation with John for almost two years you expected him to ask you sooner to be his girlfriend - to make things official - but he never had and you were to chicken to ask him the question - so you had decided for the two of you that maybe friendship was all you needed. 
Clearly you might’ve been wrong. 
“What are you talking about? I don’t think I’m following.” 
“I called you today because I want you to come with me to Pittsburg” he pauses for a moment before correcting himself, “I mean I wanted to ask you if you’d come to Pittsburg with me.” John explains and your hand drops back to your side, your mouth falling open as you sputter to find a response. 
“I already looked into it and there is a school for nursing at the university of Pittsburgh and they except transfers and with the the offer they’re giving me I’ll be able to cover all our expenses, you wouldn’t have to worry about finding a job if you didn’t want to or you could wait till you settle in if you wanted some extra money to put in savings” You still can’t find anything to say, listening to John rambling, his voice getting softer and softer as he speaks, “Anyway, what I’m trying to say that if I can’t have you with me then I don’t want it.” 
“John, I don’t know what to say.” Is all you can manage, not knowing which of your emotions to latch onto. 
Anger that he’s leaving and this is how he’s telling you.
Sad that he’s leaving and this is how he’s telling you.
Angry again that he’s leaving and this is how he’s telling you. 
And mainly happy that he’s achieving his dreams and he doesn’t want to leave you behind. 
“We never really talked about this before.” You say honestly, your head lifting as your mum walks into the living room, her eyes questioning as tears well on your waterline. “John, this is really out of the blue.” 
“I know, I know and that’s my fault - I was going to tell you how I felt before summer break but I just couldn’t shake the idea that you didn’t feel the same and I didn’t want to ruin what we had.”  Your mum takes a seat next to you on the couch, a supportive hand on your back rubbing in circles as a few tears drop from your eyes. 
“Have I upset you?” His voice is questioning, a small quiver at the end of the question and your tears fall a little harder. 
“No, no.” You reassure, lifting a hand to wipe at your face, “It’s just a lot to take in right now, I just need to think for a minute.” 
“Okay, that’s okay.” He begins a shaky breath escaping him as he adds, “I can wait for you - no matter how long it takes.” You mum is patting your back as you wipe furiously at your face. The phone call ends, and you turn to your mother, a soft smile on your face as she tucks your hair behind your ears. 
“John got an offer in Pittsburg.” You say a bitter smile on your face, your eyes shining with tears. You mother just waits for you to continue, “He wants me to go with him.” You explain, taking in a long breath and letting out a short shaking one, “And I think I want to go.” Your mothers smile brightens as she pulls you in for a hug, reassuring you that everything would be fine, that it can all be figured out in time. 
+
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PAST - EARLY 2020
“John, I don't know about this.” You say as you fiddle with the straps of the light blue dress - John stood behind you tugging on the zipper, cursing under his breath as the zipper catches again. “Maybe I just shouldn’t go.” 
You want to cry. 
The move to Pittsburgh had been more stressful than you were anticipating - Nursing School was kicking your ass with late hours on placement and early morning classes and you hadn’t been eating very well, the freshman 15 hitting you about three years too late. 
“I want you to come - and you’ll finally get to meet everyone.” John had said excitedly finally getting the zipper on the dress up with a triumphant grin. “You look stunning.” He whispers as he turns you to face him, pushing your fringe away from your face. 
“You have to say that, you’re my boyfriend.” You joke, poking him in the ribs as you glance over at the clock. The ride to the venue was longer than either of you anticipated - John glancing over at you every now and then as he drives, one hand tangled with yours as he presses soft kisses to your knuckles. 
“If you hate it we can leave.” He finally mumbles as the car pulls up to the hotel - the bottom floor casino rented out entirely for this event. The two of you slide out of the car and make your way past the valet and into the event. 
You weren’t sure how this was supposed to work for a charity event - everyone was dressed above and beyond, your simple satin dress making you feel naked as you looked over all the sparkling gowns and black and white tuxedos. “I thought they said this was a cocktail event.” You hiss as the two of you enter smiling at the people who greet you. 
“I thought it was.” John says obviously as confused as you were. 
“Oh, Johnny, we never thought you’d make it.” A higher pitched voice says from the crowd, the two of you glancing around until you spot the long legged blonde making their way towards you. 
“That’s Hannah, one of the wives.” He clarifies, and you nod, putting a bright smile on your face as she stops in front of the two of you. She leans forwards placing two soft kisses on John’s cheeks before turning towards you. 
“I see you brought a friend.” 
“Um, this is my girlfriend, she moved here with me after I signed.” John says quickly, his hand placed on your back as you offer your hand in greeting. Hannah glances at you, her eyes raking over you before she just nods with a tight smile.
“Well it’s not quite the look we’re going for but it’ll do.” She said dismissively, your eyebrows raise in surprise as you lean closer to John. 
“Did she just call me an ‘it’?” John's brows furrow as he takes in the older woman, his nose wrinkling as she flags down a waiter. “John, don’t.” You say as you notice his mouth open to say something. 
“I’m sorry, but what you just said was extremely rude.” The words are out of John’s mouth before you can slap your hand over his lips to keep them closed, “And my girlfriend isn’t an ‘it’ she’s a human being and deserves respect.” Hannah snaps her gaze away from the waiter back towards the two of your, a glare centred on you. 
“I mean no offence, but the wives and girlfriends pride themselves on keeping a level of class when dressing for events - we hold ourselves to a certain level of maintenance.” She pauses for a moment, “The dress is doing you no favours, my dear. No matter, It’s an easy fix, I’ll send you the number of a great weight loss dietician that I know..” She waves off John’s shocked expression taking a sip from the champagne flute handed to her. 
“What do you mean by that?” John’s in too deep now, taking a step in front of you, his body covering you as he stares down his teammate's wife.
“You know what I don’t want to know - she’s beautiful the way she is and neither of us want you to ‘fix’ anything.” You watch as the woman turns a light shade of pink, clearly not prepared for John’s fight. 
“Johnny, I’m just saying that us partners should be taking care of ourselves - we want our men to be proud to stand next to us.” The comment is the straw that breaks the camel's back, your hands slipping away from the back of John’s suit, your arms crossing over your chest, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. 
John’s speechless at Hannah’s words, his eyes flaming with anger as his teammate steps up besides his wife, “Keep your asshole of a wife away from my girlfriend.” John spits, the man looking at the defence man in shock before turning to his wife with a pointed look. 
You don’t wait any longer to see what is said as you turn and exit the hotel, John quick on your heels as he follows you out. 
“Where are you going?” He asks, his long legs carrying him much faster than you can move in your thin heels. 
“Anywhere but here.” You respond, letting out a sigh as John grabs hold of your arm tugging you to a stop. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this.” You add, biting down on your lip as it begins to quiver. 
“Don’t listen to that crazy old bat.” John soothes, his hand sliding down your arm to grab hold of your hand, his other cupping it as he brings it to his mouth, pressing gentle kisses on your skin. 
“But maybe she’s right, John. I mean it’s clear I’ve gained weight, and I’m either at school or work and we barely even get to spend time together anymore - maybe I’m just not made to be a hockey wife.” Your words are strained as you fight back your insecurities, “You deserve so much more.” 
“No.” John shakes his head at your words, his hand cupping yours tightly. “I don’t want anyone else.” He sighs as you open your mouth to speak, shaking his head again. 
“You moved all the way here for me and you changed the entire course of your education for me.” John begins, “You work ten hours a day for free to achieve your dream plus you study on top of all that, and you still manage to support me in everything I’m doing.” You let out a shaky sob, one of John’s hands releasing your to wipe at your tears. 
“If anything - you deserve so much more.” John continues, his breathing heavy as his own tears start to gather, “Baby, I am so proud to be seen with you - and I told you, if I can’t have you with me, then I don’t want it.” Your tears are falling freely now, John following close behind as he pulls you towards him, wrapping his arms around you as you bury your head in his chest, his hands soothing against your back. 
“I’m ready to go now.” You grumble against John’s now wet dress shirt, a soft chuckle escaping him as he pulls his valet ticket from his pocket. 
+
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PRESENT - EARLY 2024
“Pittsburg wasn’t the greatest - but it helped John grow as a player and we’re both so excited to be here now.” You say to Luke, his eyes soft as he reaches out, the lanky man wrapping you in a hug. You shoot a glance over at John who tries to stifle a laugh behind his hand. 
“I’m glad you’re here too.” Luke says, “I just know everyone here is gonna love you.” He quietly adds finally releasing you as he nods at John, “Man if someone talked to my girlfriend like that I’d lose it.” 
“Tell me about it.” John agrees, taking a sip of the drink he had wandered off the get when you first started telling Luke your story. 
“Have you met any of the WAGs yet?” Luke asks, turning back to you, your head shaking quickly in response. 
“We’ve texted but I haven’t met anyone in person.” 
“Perfect.” Luke says as he takes hold of your hand, setting it gently against his elbow before surveying the crowd. “Ooh, there’s Reanee.” Luke drags you away from your boyfriend quickly, giving you a run down on each WAG before he introduces you to them. 
In total it takes Luke almost an hour and a half to track down every wife and player - introducing you personally, John following the two of you around smiling until his cheeks hurt at each warm welcome you receive. Managing to convince Luke to release you for twenty minutes for a drink and bathroom break, John pulls you towards the bar leaning down to whisper softly in your ear. 
“Seems like you are made to be a hockey wife.”
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