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pandoraslxna · 1 year

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Special friends - Chapter 2

adult Neteyam x female omatikaya reader

Words: 3.8k

Summary: You’ve been such a good girl, helping Neteyam out when he was in pain. Now it’s time for him to repay the favor, don’t you think?

Warnings: explicit smut, oral sex, vaginal fingering, corruption kink, manipulative behavior, innocent virgin reader, best friends with benefits, they’re having a sleepover

The air in his marui was filled with natural scents, the lingering smell of leaves, grass and later that evening, something sweet too.

Neteyam thanked Eywa for the little hunting trip your parents went to. They had left the village for a few days, knowing their precious daughter would be safe and sound in the care of the olo'eyktan's family. You and Neteyam were like two peas in a pod, never one without the other anyways. And Jake and Neytiri assured them that their oldest would look after you, that he would take care of you and your needs until they were back and that he was to be trusted with this responsibility. He was their golden child for a reason. And Neteyam couldn’t believe his luck.

A soft body was now laying beside him, an arm was placed under your head to serve as a pillow, his tail possessively wrapped around your hip and your back against his chest, pressing your bodies even closer together. Soft hair were tickling his cheek as Neteyams head was buried in the crook of your neck. Having you this close felt unbelievable good.

No words could describe that feeling when you had finally agreed to move your sleeping mat closer to his, when he had successful lured you to sleep on your side so he could spoon you.

Something was on your mind, Neteyam could tell by the way you were chewing your bottom lip all day. He watched very attentively, how you kept avoiding his gaze, how your cheeks would turn pink whenever he did catch you looking at him. And how you tossed and turned on your sleeping mat, laying just a few feet away from him. Something was definitely on your mind and he was determined to find out what it is.

"Can’t sleep, hm?", he had asked you after watching how you had no control over your tail trashing and tapping on the woven floor for hours. You were either really nervous or extremely excited, but whatever it was, it kept you sleepless.

In the dark, he still saw the way you turned around to face him, nodding and biting your lip as you looked at him from across the room.

"C‘mere peach", he reached his arms out for you to settle in between them, "tell me what’s troubling you." You were hesitant for a good while, much to his surprise. You had never denied him something before, so he was actually relieved when you finally moved to lay beside him.

A content hum was slipping through your lips as warm fingers brushed ever so lightly over your sensitive skin, tracing the stripes on your sides. Neteyam moved his head just enough to press a lazy kiss to your jaw every once in a while.

"So? What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"I don’t know…", came from beside him, your voice soft and uncertain and he knew that tone all too well.

Propping himself on one elbow, he looks down at you with furrowed eyebrows, "You know you can tell me everything, peach. I thought we would always share our secrets with each other?"

You sigh, knowing that sooner or later your best friends was always able to draw the words right out of you, so better tell him now. Last time you kept a secret from him, he was denying you kisses for two days straight. You almost went insane!

"I’ve been thinking about… about that day", you admit so quietly, you almost whisper.

"About what exactly?", he tilts his head questioningly and you completely miss the teasing tone in his voice.

"You said you had that tingling feeling in your belly from kissing and, uhm…", you squeeze your eyes shut as you proceed to let the words fall out of your mouth like a waterfall, "You know that I feel it too sometimes but… but now I have it even without kissing you and it’s just there all the time when I see you and it’s strange and I’m feeling weird and it makes my head all fuzzy and–"

"Oh", he simply says. You open your eyes again to look at him, but his facial expression’s are really hard to read right now. It makes you squirm and hide your face in your hands and you regret that you had even bought this up, feeling dumb for admitting something like this to him. You had no idea what those feelings were, why they were spreading in warm waves from your belly down to your core and simultaneously clouding your head enough so you could barely focus on anything else but him. Because what you did, how you helped him out, that moment has been playing in your minds eye nonstop for the past few days.

"That’s so embarrassing, I’m sorry, I– I shouldn’t have said something", you mumble against the palm of your hand that was covering your face.

"It’s not embarrassing, skxawng", Neteyam then chuckles, surprising you enough to lower your hands and take a peek at him. "It’s not?"

"No!", he shakes his head, loving the way your eyes soften when he caresses your cheek affectionately. You really had no idea what was happening with you. Neteyam bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grinning like some perv before he continued, "Look, you’ve been such a good girl, helping me out when I was in pain. Maybe I could help you out too?" Your eyes widened slightly at that, nodding along his words like he was lecturing you on something. "I can make that weird feeling go away, peach. Would you like me to help you? Just say so and I’ll do it."

A smile formed on your plumb lips and a sign of relief was clearly written on your face. Neteyams face lowered enough to hover just inches from yours and for a moment you think that he may kiss you, leaning in to let him capture your lips but he doesn’t move. "Use your words, pretty girl", he just teases, loving the way you squirmed underneath him.

"Can you help me, Teyam? Pretty please", you giggle. "Anything for my best girl", he smiles and then you’re rewarded with him actually leaning down to kiss you, soft and tender, and you sigh against his lips.

This was the perfect setup, Neteyam knew it. Adrenaline coursed through his body and he could hear his heart thumping in his chest. He could see that you were a little nervous, uncertain about what might happen now. But there was something else in your eyes. Trust. You trusted him with your whole heart and fuck, did that make him hard underneath his loincloth.

"Lay down on your back for me, yes?", he ordered and you happily complied, shifting so you laid flat on your back. Neteyam laid on his side next to you, propped on his elbow to get a good view of your body laid out before him like a desert.

"Perfect, you’re doing so good, peach", he praises you, making you blush. His eyes drift to your lips, tongue sneaking out to lick his own as he leans down. For a moment he lingers, like he can’t decide whether he wants to keep kissing you or move down to your neck. He decides to go for both, kissing your lips first and then your neck. You can’t help but giggle, his tongue tickling you as he sucks and licks on your skin.

Soon, there’s this warmth spreading in your stomach. And it’s like he feels it too, because he pulls back to look at you, smiling a very different smile now. His eyes shift from your own, to the way his hand had caressed your belly, his fingertips barely touching your soft skin as they move over your stripes. He moves lower and lower, until he’s passed your navel and reaches the cords that’s holding your loincloth together.

"Where are you feeling weird, is it here?", he asks, his fingers teasingly playing with the woven fabric covering your private parts, where a wet patch was already forming. You nod weakly, not trusting your voice enough to speak, especially when he moves your loincloth to the side and exposes your most treasured part to him.

"Feeling all special down there, hm?", Neteyam chuckles when you attempt to close your thighs.

You squeeze your eyes shut when he spreads your legs, draping one of them over his own thigh to keep them apart. You whimper at the foreign feeling when his middle finger glides through your folds, collecting your slickness on his digits. "Open your eyes, peach", Neteyam kisses your temple, "Need you to see how pretty you look, such a beautiful girl. Look how wet you are, that must’ve hurt, hm? So desperate to get touched and you didn’t even know."

You can’t help the shiver that runs through you at his words. The look he gives you this time is much softer, but it still makes your blood run hot, makes you feel like the electricity in your nerves are sparking just under your skin. You turn your head to the side to look at him properly. His pupils are almost completely blown black now and without missing a beat he grabs your chin lightly, guiding your gaze back to your lower half. Heat rushes up your neck and to your cheeks when he spreads you folds. With his index finger, he expertly finds that little nub that’s so sensitive to touch and gently presses down on it.

"Teyam!", you gasp his name, your hips unintentionally moving and bucking up against his hand. "T-That felt…"

"Good? I know", he chuckles. Neteyam continues teasing your clit, rubbing it in tight circles, smearing your slick over the little bundle of nerves so he can glide over it more easily. He rolls it, taps and rubs and you‘re so focused on what he‘s doing, that you barely register how embarrassingly loud your moans have turned. You’re whining and writhing against him, not even trying to look dignified at this point, the sensation verging on overwhelming and it’s foreign and strange, yet it’s so, so good.

But suddenly it’s gone and you whine in protest. For a moment everything is still, and you realize for the first time that you’re panting heavily.

You’re stretching up, wordlessly begging him to kiss you, to do something, but he doesn’t relent. He just holds you there, with a smirk on his face, like he’s plotting something.

"I‘m gonna put a finger in, okay?", he asks you with a kiss to the corner of your mouth, "Think you can take it?"

A finger? In like... inside? Inside you? There was no way this was going to fit. Were fingers even supposed to go in there? His hand is so much bigger than yours, surely this wasn’t possible!

"I- I don’t know if I can—", you manage to stutter out and your breathing seemingly increased.

"Hmh I think you can, peach. I promise it’s gonna feel good, don’t you trust me?" His words are soft and calming and you do, you trust him completely. Neteyam would never hurt you, he would never ask anything of you that you weren’t actually capable of. He knew you better than you did yourself. When you nod, he runs his fingers back through the slick between your thighs, teasing a finger against your slit and you can’t help but tense a little. Neteyam coos beside you, whispering sweet praises in your ear that actually help you relax, before he pushes his middle finger inside, ever so slowly and you hold your breathe.

He’s carful, taking a deliberate breathe like he’s trying to compose himself. You’re completely unaware of how painful hard his cock is, neglected from any sort of touch and the combination of his loincloth restraining him and you writhing and moaning next to him was starting to become unbearable.

His thumb still rolls over your clit, while he pushes his finger inside you to the last knuckle. It’s a tight fit, but that was to expected. You’re warm and wet and tight and fuck he can’t help but groan once he can’t push his digit further in. Your velvety walls clamp down on him and oh how good would that feel around his cock, he thinks to himself.

"Oh great mother, you’re so tight. I love you so much, peach", he mumbles likes he’s drunk, drunk of the sight in front of him, "Fuck, see how well you’re taking my finger? You’re so perfect, my favorite girl is doing so good for me."

You work to steady your breathing, reveling in the feeling of his touch and the sweet praises he mumbles but the feeling when he finally moves his finger inside you is something else. It’s confusing, the way he makes you feel. But it’s amazing.

He thrusts his finger in and out, slow at first but his speed increases the louder you moan. Neteyam hums thoughtfully, still rubbing your clit, grinding the palm of his hand against it too, every time he pushes deep inside you.

But Neteyam had a hard time doing all of this. Literally.

His mind was fuzzy, clouded with the squelching sounds of your pussy and the delicious sight of your juices running down his knuckles and the way you squeezed him, moaning his name with your hips bucking up and unintentionally chasing his hand whenever he moved just slightly away. He wanted to push another finger in, hear you whine and cry out because that would definitely be too much for your needy little hole. After all, you’ve never done anything like this.

Sweet, innocent girl has never had anything inside of her before, except for his finger. Neteyam was determined to be your first with everything and having another mile stone completed in this very second, has him drooling and thrusting his cock up in the air. This whole situation was making him harder than anything ever before and he couldn’t wait for the day he would finally make you his. But not now. Not like this. Right now, he wanted to do something else.

You just looked way too delicious right now, your clear arousal smearing between his digits like honey and fuck he wanted to taste it so bad.

"Remember the reason why I call you peach?", Neteyam asked lowly, gently blowing air against the shell of your ear where he had previously nippled and licked your skin, making goosebumps appear all over your body. You squirm when the movement of his finger slows down, until he only grinds his hand against your pussy.

"Because you.. you said I’m sweet like a peach", you tell him panting and he chuckles at your desperate state.

"Have you ever tasted one?", he asks with a smile.

You look at him questioningly when he moves to sit up, retreating his hand from between your thighs to settle himself there instead. Furrowing your brows, you’re met with a sharp grin as he lays on his stomach between your legs, hooking them up and letting them rest on his shoulders with his hands on either backside of your thighs.

It takes a moment for you to remember that he had asked you question, shaking your head you answer him, "N-No, of course not. It’s a fruit from earth."

You gasp when he kisses the plush inside of your thighs, his fangs lightly grazing over your soft skin making you shudder.

"Exactly", he grins from between your thighs, "I’ve never tasted a peach before either. But since the day I found out they exist, I’ve wanted to taste one. I could only ever imagine how they taste, how sweet, so delicious and juicy. That’s why you’re my peach."

And with that, Neteyam lowers his head and completely catches you off guard when he licks a long stripe between your folds. You gasp, fisting the woven mat below you and try to arch your back, away from his tongue, but you’re met with the resistance of Neteyam hands holding you in place.

"N-Not there!", you whine embarrassed, your cheeks flushed a dark red, "Teyam don’t— that’s dirty!"

"S‘not dirty", he slurs before he presses the flat of his tongue against your core again, "Fuck, you taste so sweet."

Neteyam is sloppy, desperate as he buries his face between your thighs and licks long stripes from your entrance to your clit. He’s lapping at that little nub, drooling all over it while he kisses and sucks and it’s too much for you. You can’t help but whine and moan loudly, squeezing your eyes shut because you’re simply embarrassed by the act. Neteyam, your dearest friend, was using his mouth on you– on such a private part of your body.

Meanwhile, he groans as he laps up some of your slickness where it leaks out of you and his eyes roll all the way back into his head from your taste. Neteyam can’t help but grind his hard cock against the ground, desperate to get to his release himself as he eats you out.

If you would just take a second to look at him, you would’ve realized how much he was enjoying this. He was gripping your thighs to keep them apart, clinging to you and wrapping himself up in your body, smothering himself with your legs and your puffy pussy. He doesn’t even want to breathe it seems.

Your thighs quiver in his hold and your hips jerk completely unintentionally, like your body was trying to get him to where it feels best to you. At this, Neteyams tongue slides over your entrance and dips inside, as far as he can reach, and your eyes fly open to look at him. There’s this look on his face, like a predator catching sight of its prey. His eyes are completely focused on you and then his tongue moves to thrust and you almost choke on a sob. "Teyam, s-slow down", you whimper, but he doesn‘t listen. If anything, his pace seemed to increase even more. At one point, one of his hands comes down to rest on your pelvis, pressing just slightly down while his thumb begins to circle your clit again. He suck and kisses and groans against you and it just sounds so obscene to your innocent ears.

"Hm, filthy girl you’re moaning so loud", you hear Neteyam chuckle, kissing your clit hard enough to make your whole body jerk. "It’s okay, peach you’re doing great. Feels good, right?"

"Hmh", you only hum. It’s barely a response, but it seemed like he had successfully sucked your vocal cords and every rational thinking thought out of you. If that was how he had felt a couple of days ago, you were impressed with how composed he was when you helped him out, especially compared to your current state. You were a mess.

"I can tell that you’re close, peach, just let it happen. You’re gonna feel so much better soon, I promise."

Neteyam was more than happy to keep going, enjoying the warmth of your arousal coating his tongue as he continued. You were trembling with pleasure, lightly grinding your cunt against his soft lips as his tongue pushed deep into you, exploring every inch and loving it.

You couldn’t fight it anymore, the way you arched up into his touch, whimpering in response to the way his tongue was thrusting into your pussy, only stopping to kiss your clit eagerly, as he slid his hands up and down the soft of your thighs, gently massaging and kneading your flesh.

It felt heavenly. You couldn’t deny it anymore. It was wrong– so, so wrong, because Neteyam wasn’t supposed to lick and kiss you at such a dirty place, but by Eywa did it feel good.

Unbeknownst to you, Neteyam was still grinding his cock against the floor. He was so on the edge that it was almost painful. You can feel him moan against your spit slicked clit and the vibration only adds further to the stimulation. He can’t believe that the sheer taste of you and the act of eating you out was enough to make him cum to quickly. He bucks his hips against the ground in the same rhythm of the thrusts of his tongue inside you, almost edging himself because he wanted nothing more than to come with you. Together.

Good thing you weren’t far behind him, squirming and arching your back, with you pussy clenching around nothing. When he glances up from between your thighs, he spots tears pricking at the corner of your eyes and that’s when he decides it’s enough. He shifts his arm so he can comfortably slide his middle finger inside you, curling it as if he’s beckoning to you, just right to hit that spongey spot that finally makes you fall apart for him.

"Teyam, Teyam stopstopstopstop", you try to wriggle away, not knowing what’s about to happen and when you finally come, your whole body tenses, choking on your words you suck in a sharp breathe. With his lips secured on your clit, he helps you through it, let’s you ride it out on his digit while his other hand holds you firm on the ground. Neteyam feels how you hold you breathe, feels how your legs tremble and then you gasp, loud and wanton. Immediately, your hands find purchase on top of his head, tugging on his braids when he doesn’t stop lapping on the slickness that pools around his knuckles. "C-Can’t", you whimper softly, "Teyam, s-stop, please."

He’s so lost in the taste of your cum, that he didn’t even realize he just came himself. It’s only when your legs begin to twitch in overstimulation and when the sticky mess smearing between his cock and his loincloth becomes too uncomfortable, that he finally withdraws from between your legs to sit up on his heels.

In all of the years Neteyam has known you, he’s pretty sure he’s never seen you this beautiful before. Your chest sinks and heaves in big pants, face flushed and your skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. Your lips are slightly parted and your eyes half lidded and he can’t help but lay down right on top of you, with his waist comfortably between your spread legs. Neteyam rests his face on top of your chest and relishes in the comforting sound of your rapid heartbeat slowly returning to normal.

Pressing a tender kiss to the space between your breasts, he then tilts his head to look up at you, "How are you feeling, peach? Better?"

"M‘good. So good“, you slur, smiling at him weakly, "thank you…"

"No need to thank me, pretty girl", he chuckles, pressing his face against the soft swell of your chest just a little tighter. "But promise me you’re going to say something, next time you feel strange. Just tell me, no one else, okay? Otherwise I can’t help you feel better."

#neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam x female reader #neteyam #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam sully #neteyam x y/n #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #atwow neteyam #neteyam x you #neteyam x omaticaya!reader

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awearywritersworld · 10 months

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Ryomen Sukuna x Reader summary: you're cuddling in bed with your very sleepy boyfriend, except he's not exactly your very sleepy boyfriend w/c: .75k tags/warnings: somewhat suggestive but not smut. praise. "good girl" but no other reference to gender. fluff. "kitten" i can't help myself. aged up!yuuji a/n: idek! wrote this in an attempt to get inspired and to let everyone know im still alive, kicking, and most importantly, suffering from sukuna brain rot. currently rewatching so this is brought to u by s1e4. masterlist

Your favorite place to be, even after all this time, is Yuuji's arms. His embrace is warm and inviting, and it never fails to put your mind at ease, even with Sukuna in the picture. You've known him for as long as you've known Yuuji, but his snide, snarky comments never deterred your love for his vessel.

Though, after many long months, his commentary became more... unassuming? At least when you were around, anyway. The first time it happened, you'd asked Yuuji if he knew where you left your phone.

"It's on the couch," another voice answered.

You and your boyfriend stared at each other with raised brows before your eyes shifted down to ever abiding mouth on his cheek.

"What?" Sukuna actually grumbled before disappearing.

It's been a while since then. You're resting against Yuuji's chest, his arm snaked around your waist, his breathing deep and steady. Sleep nearly overcomes you, but his chest vibrates with words you're not quite able to make out and it just barely tugs you back to consciousness.

You hum drowsily, your hands grabbing at his sweatshirt in a weak attempt to pull him nearer.

"That's it," he encourages, drawing you impossibly closer.

The small noises you make as you situate yourself have the man exhaling just a little more harshly than before.

"Want me to praise you?" he offers, a sly edge to his voice. It's only then your mind registers that something is... off. This voice is more intense than the one you're used to. "It's obvious you like it when the brat tells you what a good girl you are."

Your eyes snap open, the top of your head nearly colliding with his chin as you pull back from him. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you're unable to help the small gasp that passes your lips as you take in your boyfriend's changed appearance.

"W-What the hell, Sukuna?"

There's a lazy smirk on his face and his hand settles on your hip like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"He's right, you know."

"What are you even on about? It's too late for this shit" you remark, free hand rubbing at your eyelids in an attempt to wake yourself up.

Despite Sukuna never having randomly appeared before, you're not intimidated. Well, not terribly so, even if the man before you is of infamous legend. These days his voice is a constant in your life and that keeps you from registering the possible (probable?) danger of your current situation.

"I was trying to tell you how pretty you are."

"Oh," you squeak out, warmth creeping from your neck toward your cheeks. He chuckles, but you're uncertain whether or not he's teasing you.

His fingers trail up your waist, his touch just barely grazing the skin there before catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Hm, and so sweet too." His thumb extends to brush against your bottom lip.

The contact leaves your stomach swirling with one too many emotions and your hand reaches up to his bicep, as if the action might stop anything else from being said or done.

It doesn't.

He moves his arm from your grasp, but only so that he can wrap his fingers around your wrist. You finally meet his lidded gaze as he brings the inside of your wrist to his lips, peppering a few light kisses there. "So that means you're a very good girl, don't you think?"

His tone is even and low, unfeigned in a way that makes you shudder. The whole situation has you shifting restlessly and averting your gaze.

"Why are you...?" Your voice is barely above a whisper and you're incapable of figuring out a way to describe what was happening at the present moment.

He takes a few seconds before answering, studying how you've pulled your bottom lip between your teeth with a furrowed brow.

His voice quiets to match your own. "Is Yuuji the only one who can concern himself with your happiness?"

You attempt to mask the surprise that threatens your features, but still glance up at him with widened eyes. A momentary silence falls between the two of you and there's an air of suspense to it.

"I never said that."

That must be answer enough, as he tugs you back to his chest once more. You let him envelop you with ease and tangle your legs between his.

"Then stop worrying and go back to sleep, kitten."

#m!writes #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagines #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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jamespotterismydaddy · 4 months

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So Pretty

michael gavey x partygirl!reader

A/N: had multiple requests for this!

TW: SMUT, dom!reader, leg humping

word count: 1,569 words

You’re about 5 drinks in when you notice the nerd hanging out in the corner of the party.

He’s cute. You think to yourself, even if you’re wondering how he even got in here because there’s no way in hell Annabelle invited him. Oliver is best friends with Felix and even he didn’t get an invite. You stand there for a moment, trying to decide if he’s cute enough to talk to. You do think you know his name, Mitchell or Marshal or whatever. Boredom ends up being reason enough.

“It’s um… Mitchell, right?” You ask after you’ve made your way over to him. His cheeks go bright red. There’s no way you’re talking to him.

“Michael.” He mumbles.

“Oh sorry, Michael baby. How’d you get in here anyway?”

This is it. He thinks. I’m getting kicked out.

“Isn’t it uh open invite?” He makes up on the spot.

“Yeah Annabelle doesn’t do ‘open invite’.” You shake your head with a bit of a cheeky grin on your face. You may be a little tipsy.

“Fine, sorry. I’ll leave.” He looks a little embarrassed, a little annoyed too as he moves to go around you and to the door.

You place a dainty hand on his chest and push him to the wall with surprising force.

“I don’t remember saying I wanted you to leave.”

“I-I… why not?” He stutters.

“Maybe I like talking to you.” You draw your fingertip around his collar.

“Nobody likes talking to me.” His face is the colour of a strawberry because of how close you are… how pretty you are.

“You’re not very good at this, are you?” You giggle.

“Not very good at what?” He asks bluntly.

“Flirting.” His jaw nearly drops.

“You’re flirting with me?” You didn’t think his face could get redder but it somehow does.

“Am I not making it very obvious?” You ask very sweetly. “I’ll try a little harder then.” And by ‘trying a little harder’ you mean slipping a leg between his.

“What are you-” His words are cut off by a groan as you rub his groin with your thigh.

“I’m flirting.” You say cheekily as you continue to rub, feeling his cock start to harden. His hands stay firmly at his sides as if he’s nervous to touch you, to react.

“You can’t… if you keep going…” He trains off and you quickly realize what he was trying to say.

“Are you really about to cum already?” You tease and retract your leg.

“Wait.” He whimpers before he can think about what he’s asking for.

“You want me to keep going? Let you hump my leg until you cum in your pants… in front of everybody?” That makes him look around a bit nervously but nobody is actually watching the two of you. “Are you really that pent up?”

“You started it.” He murmurs, feeling quite embarrassed now.

“I did start it.” You agree and then go up on your tip toes to whisper in his ear. “How about we go to the bathroom and finish it?”

“But i’ve never - I um…” He trips over his words, kicking himself because it seems like he’s trying to talk you out of it.

“It’s okay. I’ll show you, if you want.” You give him a reassuring smile.

“Y-Yeah, i’d like that.” He matches your smile (which is quite cute) and lets you take him by the hand. The nearest washroom is… occupied so you take him to one a little bit further from the party.

“Here alright?” You ask as you lock the door behind him. “We can always go to my dorm if you’d prefer that?”

“No! I mean no. I’m ready now.” He says, not wanting you to change your mind. “You’re really pretty.” He speaks a bit slower now. He’s never had a girl show interest in him like this before.

“I think you’re really pretty too.” You reply before leaning in to kiss him. He’s very clearly inexperienced but you don’t mind. You enjoy the kiss anyhow.

Your hands run over his body and his hands settle gently on your waist. Your touch moves down to his trousers and you begin to palm him through his pants. He moans into your mouth and you swallow the sweet sounds.

You part your mouth from his. “Can I suck you off?” He almost cums from the question alone but nods rapidly so you begin to lower yourself to your knees.

“Wait!” He stops you so you rise up to your feet. He takes off his sweater and lays it on the tiles. “Floors dirty.” Is his only explanation and your heart almost bursts. You’re going to give this man the best blowjob of his life.

“You’re sweet.” You say as you get on your knees before him, unbuckling his belt.

He looks a little flustered at the compliment and then even more so when you take him out of his pants. He’s big, very big.

It’s always the lanky nerds. You think to yourself as you take his length in your hand. You keep eye contact as you press a kiss to the head, making him take a sharp breath. You then let him into your mouth, sucking gently so he doesn’t blow his load right away.

“Oh, god.” He moans as he places a hand on your head so he can play with your hair rather than guiding you. “You’re so so pretty.”

You take him in deeper, bringing a hand up to help you as you feel him touch the back of your throat. The deepthroating seems to make him go a little crazy and he grips your hair tighter.

“Sorry.” He apologizes breathlessly, his words fading away as you suck him harder. He tries to hold off, he really does, but it’s all clearly too much for him as he starts twitching in your mouth. He attempts to pull you off him but you don’t allow him to, giving a look from under your pretty lashes that tells him exactly what you want. He spills in your mouth with a moan of your name and you finally pull your head off so you can swallow. He’s more than mesmerized.

“How was that?”

“R-Really good. Thank you.” You giggle when he thanks you.

“You wanna fuck me now?” You ask in your most sensual voice.

“Can I eat you out?” He asks quickly, like he had been thinking about it.

You’re a little surprised but you stand back up. “I think i’d like that.”

“Good, um.” He gets on his knees right away. “I’m not sure how but I promise i’m a quick learner.” He says as if he’s still trying to convince you to say yes.

“Don’t worry, I believe you.” You smile at him, running your fingers through his hair before bunching up your tight dress around your waist. The sight of your skimpy little panties is all it takes for him to get hard again. “You can take those off.”

He grins before reaching for the hem of your underwear and starting to pull them down slowly. He’s breathing heavily, looking focused like you’ve never seen before. When he reveals your glistening pussy, he lets out a low groan.

“You’re so pretty.”

“You might have said that once or twice.” You tease as he takes them off fully. He looks up at you for instruction. “Just do what feels right and i’ll guide you from there.”

He nods and looks at your pussy again, surprising you when he lifts your left leg and places it over your shoulder so he has better access. You lean back on the counter as he presses a light kiss to your clit and then one right to your opening. He continues to press little kisses all around, licking a little like he’s trying to drink in your arousal as much as he can.

“Focus here.” You say as you rub your clit slightly to show him what you like and he begins to suckle on it.

His left hand grips your thigh as you notice his right go down to stroke his cock.

“Nuh uh.” You tilt his chin up. “Those hands are for me.”

He nods obediently and has no complaints as he lifts his fingers to your entrance. He looks up for your approval and when it’s granted, he slips two fingers in.

“Curl them. That’s the spot you want to hit each time.” He takes your advice seriously and starts to finger you as he tongues your clit. He continues for a few minutes, eating you slowly before you notice him rubbing himself against your leg. You find it more arousing than anything so you let him continue.

“Mmm i’m close, Michael.” You whimper as you tug on his hair, feeling him start to rub his cock against you faster as he coaxes you closer.

With another moan, you finish on his tongue and he laps it up before cumming on the floor.

“What a naughty boy.” You tease as he looks up at you, embarrassed.

“Sorry.” He looks down.

Jesus, Michael. Humping her leg like a bloody dog?

“No more apologies. I don’t think i’ve ever cum so hard in my life.”

“Really?” He asks with a grin.

“Really.” You say before leaning down to kiss him.

Hitting on Michael Gavey might’ve been the best decision you’ve ever made.

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 7 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi i

#michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #michael gavey #saltburn smut #saltburn

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myhaikyuuacademia · 5 days

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Totally Fake | Ant Vaughn x reader (Heartbreak High) ||

This is officially a series haha, trying to make it slowburn-ish but let's see if i can hold myself back

Fake dating, fem!reader

@foxxyhun

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Thankfully you had managed to get Ant’s number by Friday, not so thankfully you spent all day chatting with him about stupid, irrelevant stuff and Not about what your gameplan was going to be. And if, IF, you were actually going to the party later this evening, he’d probably be too wasted to talk about it anyway. Which means SLUTS was the last chance you had with him still sober and not hungover. Except you had no idea how to go about it, especially without drawing the attention of your friends who had been watching you like hawks all week. You were the first one in the classroom, anxiously ripping your notebook paper into tiny shreds while thinking about all the logistics. You didn’t get very far when you sensed someone sitting down next to you. “What did the poor paper do to deserve that?” Ant asked amusedly. “Wrong place, wrong time.” You grimaced and shrugged, immediately stopping and throwing all the paper shreds into your pencil case. “Oh no, don’t stop because of me, I’m sure it deserved it.” He joked before settling in his seat. “You don’t wanna sit next to your friends?” You asked, with a nod to the table they usually sat at. “Nah, I’d rather sit with my girlfriend.” He said casually. You didn’t feel very casual as you choked on your spit. God how embarrassing. It took you a minute to calm down, Ant worriedly asking if you were okay, and offering you some of his water, which you declined with a hand gesture as you were starting to calm down. “Sorry, sorry, I’m fine.” You coughed out. “Actually, that’s what I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” He looked at you, almost disappointed, “You’re backing out?” He assumed. “What? No!” You hurried to say. “I wanted to talk about lining up our stories and everything, ground rules and stuff, you know?” Relief flooded his face, “Ah, okay gotcha!” He seemed much happier. The class was slowly filling up and you were dreading the moment your friends would enter. “Well I already told pretty much everyone that you’re my girlfriend.” He added, catching you completely offguard as you watched the doorway waiting for the inevitable arrival of your friends. “Oh.” Surprised you turned your head to look at him. “Okay.” You added after a second. “What about your mom?”

��Nah, not her yet. But like, Spider and Dusty.” He clarified. Your face felt warm. “Did you tell them it was fake too?” You leaned in closer to whisper it, now that the class was almost full. “No.” He grinned at you conspiringly. You grinned back at him, his answer, and the way he looked at you, making your whole body tingle. “Oh. My. God.” Darrens dramatic voice came from opposite the table. “You two totally ARE together.” Amerie beside them looked satisfied with herself, while Quinni stimmed excitedly, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. They sat down at your table while Ant put an arm around your shoulder, “Yeah, so what?” He asked. Your face was burning, as was the parts where his arm touched you. Darrens mouth wide agape, while Quinni looked just as excited as before. “Oh my god, y/n, that’s so cute!! Congrats!” She said, happily, but after a second she looked a little less happy and a little more confused. Disappointed, even. “But why didn’t you tell us?” She asked. “Thrill of a secret relationship I bet.” Amerie added, feeling much cooler than she actually was. “But really, him?” Darren pointed at Ant. Wow rude. Your brows furrowed and you leaned into the boy next to you a little more without noticing. “What do you mean? You don’t think he's cute?” Trying to paddle back Darren stuttered out something a long the lines of, “No, that’s not what I mean, I just, I didn’t think he was your type is all.” “well, to be fair, we never knew what her type was.” Quinni added. “She never told us who she was crushing on, or what she liked in a guy, or girl.” You nodded, she was telling the truth, you usually kept things like that to yourself. “Well, I for one, am happy for you two, though I totally didn’t get any vibes when I was asking for a slap band earlier this week.” Amerie said, crossing her arms. She sounded accusing, like she was about to interrogate the two of you, when thankfully Miss Obah asked everyone to pay attention and started class. Ant didn’t take his arm off your shoulder the whole time.

When he finally did, after class ended, you couldn’t suppress your pout. Logically, you understood it was so both of you could pack your things, but this whole thing didn’t feel very logical, no matter how hard you tried. So instead, once both of you had finished, you grabbed his hand and threaded your fingers with his. Still slightly pouting. He looked down at you and laughed, “What now?” “I think she’s upset you took your arm off of her.” Darren, eagle-eyed gossip lover they are, supplied. “Oh, really?” Ant seemed surprised and looked at you for confirmation. “Yeah, kinda.” You mumbled embarrassed, avoiding his gaze. He chuckled before leaning in close and whispering in your ear. “I’ll touch you all you want at the party later.” Your face was beet red. “Ant!” You whisper shouted, scandalized and wide-eyed. He just tugged you along with him, towards the school exit. “They’re so cute together.” You overheard Quinni say to Amerie and Darren behind you. “Something’s fishy.” Both of them replied in unison. You ignored it, keeping going with Ant. “What now?” You asked once outside the school gate, still holding his hand. Refusing to be the one to let go, actually. “Well, I have some time before the party starts, which, you totally are going to right?” He asked in such a way that you felt a no would break his heart, so you just nodded. How come you are immune to peer-pressure when it was your friends but not when it was the guy you’ve been fake-dating for less than a week. “Great! Well, wanna hang out until then?” You smiled. “Sure!! Oh, we can talk about the logistics of it all, like when did we even start dating and what church do I go to? Or is that even something that’s important to your mother?” You dragged him along, totally rambling at this point about all the different things you had to decide on for the story to be foolproof. When you turned to look at him, waiting for him to say something, you noticed the way he was smiling at you. “Oh, what? Am I overthinking?” You questioned out loud. “No, no, it’s fine. I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk that much.” He still looked at you in a way you had trouble deciphering. “Oh. Well, I guess I don’t talk a lot. Usually. But also we haven’t really spoken before this week so…” You trailed off. “Hmmh, yeah, but we’ve been in the same year for a while now.” He said, before turning back to look at the way ahead. “You usually only talk when spoken to.” Oh. He had noticed that? He had noticed you? Before you ever talked to him? “Oh, um. I guess that’s right.” You squeezed his hand subconsciously. “I like hearing you talk.” He squeezed your hand back. “Plus, you’re so smart, I wouldn’t have thought about half of the things you mentioned. Maybe we should write it all down.” You nodded. “Yeah, good idea.”

“Woah, your room is awesome.” Ant was currently walking through your room looking at all the little trinkets that were… everywhere frankly. Picking them up and putting them down again. “Haha, thanks.” You sat on the edge of your bed, not knowing what to do with yourself as you watched him. “Woah, you like Marvel?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Uh yeah, I love it.” You laughed. He put the action figure down and turned around, very serious all of a sudden. “This calls for a movie night.” He explained. You grinned. “Sure, I’m always up for a movie.. But let’s talk business first.” You scooched to the side and patted the spot next to you. He groaned dramatically and walked over before sitting down. “Why does this feel like homework all of a sudden.” Your face scrunched up at that. “Sorry. But this is just so our story doesn’t fall apart.” He turned to look at you, head hanging to the side. “You really think it’s necessary?” “Well. Yeah.” You reply. “What if your mom asks us how we met, our what our first date was, and we say different things. Better to be prepared.” He pouts playfully, “Well, fine I guess.” In the end you agree on simple things, you met at school, duh, and worked a project together, after which you became friends, before Ant asked you on a date to the diner, and then a second date to the movies, before asking you to be his girlfriend. Easy enough. He said it was okay not to go to church as long as you were still acting Christian enough in front of his mom. Whatever that means. The reason he was only introducing you now was because you could disprove what was written on the map. You were scared of meeting his parents, so it had taken you a while to gather the courage, and he wanted to be sure before bringing a girlfriend home. Easy. Plausible. Good story. Boring, but believable. In the end you wrote it all down, twice, one copy for you and one for him, just in case you needed it. “Can we finally watch a movie?” He whined as you gave him his paper. “I don’t know, the party is soon, and I don’t know about you, but I definitely have to get ready. You think we can manage to squeeze a movie in?” He nodded, completely convinced. “How long can it take to get ready.” Not believing this was an issue. “Oh buddy…If only you knew.” You patted his shoulder before getting your remote and turning on the tv. It was difficult, at first, to concentrate on the movie, when he was so close and warm, shoulder against shoulder, and legs touching. Your body felt on fire. After a while he wrapped his arm around you too, pulling you ever so slightly closer, if that was even possible.

“Oh! I love this part.” He pointed towards the screen with the hand not resting on your hip. “What? No way, that’s my favorite part.” You looked up at him excitedly. “No way!” He turned to look at you too. You nodded emphatically. “You’re so cool.” He gave you a squeeze. He turned back towards the screen, and you did too, after staring at him for a little while longer. In the end, he ended up staying, watching you get ready, since there was no time for him to go home before Dusty’s band performed. “Whoa, wait, what is that?” You were about to put on your fake lashes, putting glue on the strip when Ant’s head popped up next to you, dangerously close to poking your lash with his finger. “My fake lashes.” You explained. “Your lashes are fake?” He turned to you, staring intensely into your eyes, inspecting your lashes. “No, well yes, sometimes. I have real lashes. The one you’re looking at right now.” You laughed. “But sometimes I put on fake lashes, which looks kinda-“ You leaned towards the mirror to put your lashes on. “like this.” You said, leaning back to show him. “Oh my god that’s crazy.” He breathed out, totally stunned, which made you laugh even harder. After that he stayed next to you, watching you apply your makeup closely. “Hmmm..” You pursed your lips as you put the last thing in place. “I think that’s it.” You concluded. Before you could even turn to the side to face him, his voice piped up as he asked: “Can you put some on me?” The request came unexpectedly, but you happily obliged. You opted for some chrome glimmery dark blue green ish, you didn’t really know how to describe it, glitter shadow to put on top of his eyelids. Dabbing it in softly, he leaned in closely and you could feel his breath on your skin. “Okay, try opening your eyes.” You requested softly, holding his chin in your hand and looking at him intensely, assessing your work. He opened his eyes hesitantly. Chewing on your lip you came to the conclusion that this look needed some black liner, so you added a line underneath his eyes on his waterline, dragging it out into a straight “wing”. A difficult job, with this being a sensitive area and Ant not used to having stuff put this close to his eyes. He kept squirming and blinking, but eventually you got the job done to your satisfaction. “This looks sick.” You say as you remove your hands from his face and lean back. Giving him time to admire himself in your mirror, you put away your brushes and powders and liners. “You want to do something to your hair too?” He turned to look at you at that. “Kinda.” You look on your phone to check the time, before grimacing. “Sorry, I don’t think we have time. Actually we really need to go if we wanna make it in time.” You stand up and hold your hand out to him, pulling him up from where he was sitting. Your friends were definitely going to give you shit about barely reaching out to them later.

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smellrain · 28 days

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𝐧𝐡𝟏𝟑 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭

in which: nico and you had met years ago in a cold rink in canada but then lost touch for several reasons. It's hard, growing and correcting mistakes of your past but you try anyway.

tags: written, angst, hopeful ending, mentions of: depression, injuries, hospitals, doctors, etc. (masterlist)

notes: [5.1k] I have no idea what this is? I woke up, wrote the entire thing and passed out again for 2 hours. Tried polishing it through editing? Yeah. It turned out a lot different than the rest of my stuff so far, so it's scary posting this. Come & tell me if you liked it.

The ice was as harsh as it was unforgiving.

The cold air of the rink has seeped into your bones years ago and the reddend tips of your fingers went numb a while ago, but you were used to it by now. Nothing really mattered when you got like this, too caught up in your head for anyone to reach.

Not even yourself.

You had been home and then suddenly not, your body already knowing what you needed before your mind caught up to it.

The rink wasn’t open, not yet, but you had gotten a key years ago. The owner, David, had been the only one that had looked at you the same back then. There had been a knowing sort of look in his eyes when he had seen you waiting for him at the front door stepps, eyes red.

He had given you a key, because he had seen you for who you were: a girl whose entire life had collapsed around her.

Bronze at fifteen, silver at sixteen, gold forever out of reach.

You could still remember the red pen tucked into your doctor’s coat. The ‘my condolences, but’, the white light, the letter in your hand, the sinking realisation that this was it.

That you were going to be one of the several girls that had pushed their body too far.

The same way you had done everything back then you had followed the instructions of your therapist to the letter. Stretching, compressions, different exercises. Still, there was no full recovery, no chance of ever skating professionally again.

That might be the worst part, still being able to skate but knowing that you will never be able to feel it anymore. That you were cursed to be in this limbo, never letting go of it but never being able to live for it anymore.

The harsh sound of your blade cutting over the fresh ice was as pleasant as it was torture. You wanted more, but you had to settle for this. You had to learn that this was all you were ever going to get.

These select few hours in the early morning, just before your classes started, before you had to start living your life.

You could feel yourself drawing harsh breaths, but it didn’t matter. You had pushed through worse, hunger, hurt and feelings just to stand here for a bit longer. The ringing in your ear accumulated when you thought about all that you had lost, that you could never regain.

Suddenly the heavy door of the entrance fell closed. You slowed down, curious who it might be. The clock in the corner of your vision reflected a red 05:57 back at you. It was too early for it to be anyone aside from David or another person with a key, someone like you.

It was a guy, a bag in his hand and another slung over his shoulder.

You would recognize the equipment anywhere, familiar with it in a distant way. It must be a hockey player that David had picked out out of the hundreds that frequented this place.

For some reason you already didn’t like him. Maybe because unlike you, he had the chance of actually archiving his dreams. Bitterness was an annoying but frecent emotion that stained the back of your mouth.

You wanted. You wanted more than this. You wanted the early morning practices, the ones after school, the rigidous schedule, the heavy monitoring. What were you without all that?

The static in your mind had been interrupted by his arrival but you hardly noticed, more focused on the way he walked down the stairs, casually like he had done so hundreds of times already.

It was almost six, which meant it was time to get off the ice anyways, so you circled a few laps, rotating your wrists and shoulders to feel if anything was off, and then made your way towards the outside of the rink.

“You look pretty,” said the boy from where he was tying his shoelaces up on the benches. “Out on the ice, I mean.”

Something in you hurt at that, as if your heart started pulling at its own strings. It’s been a while since anyone has watched you skate,, since you let someone else watch you. There was a sharp kind of anger rising up in you that it had been him watching you which dissipated as soon as you looked back at him.

It wasn’t his fault. There really was something wrong with you.

You knew your parents didn’t approve of you being here, but they couldn’t look at you anymore when you skated, disappointed that this was how it had ended. Disappointed in you.

“Thanks,” you said, your voice completely scraped raw. You hoped he didn’t notice it.

“I’m Nico,” he said, approaching you. He held out his hand. He wasn’t wearing gloves yet but his dark shirt had thumbholes that his thumb peeked through which was weirdly endearing on him.

You looked back up to his face. There was a tired but polite smile plastered on it but you didn’t have the energy to give him one. Instead you simply told him your name and took his hand. Even through his layer of fabric it was warm beneath your icy fingers.

He didn’t flinch at the cold of your hand and instead started genuinely smiling which took you by surprise. People didn’t react to meeting you like this, not anymore.

Then, without saying anything else, he took off his guards and stepped on the ice, skating around to warm up. You watched him for a bit while scraping off the excess ice and putting your skates away.

His skating was differentthan yours; not as delicate. The beauty of it had been hammered into you from an early age on which didn’t seem to be the case form him. It was weird, not being on the ice, being the one to watch instead.

You changed back into your shoes and walked up the steps.

From the top, which wasn’t all that high because this rink wasn’t that big, he seemed small. You wondered if you looked like that too, if anyone had thought that when you fell down, when they had seen you sprawled on the ice at fifteen, not being able to get up again.

A sick shudder passed through you. You wondered if you had ever gotten up from that ice.

Then you turned around, your back to him and left without saying goodbye.

~*~

The next time you saw him again, was two days later, just after six.

You knew you were going to be late for class but didn’t really care. Today you weren’t as cooped up in your own head, but it was still hard to let go of these stolen few hours of freedom and face reality.

“Hey,” Nico said, “it’s you again.”

“Hello,” you said in return. He stepped on the ice and you fought off the urge to leave immediately. That would be impolite, a voice reminded you in your head, even if you didn’t want him to be here right now.

“Are you here every morning?” he asked you, falling into step beside you and therefore joining you on your cooldown laps.

Your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Couldn’t he just do his own thing? Did he have to come talk to you? “Yes.”

"Dedicated. I only come every second day,” he said as if it mattered to you. You might have to leave early every second day now to avoid talking to him, which made your scowl even worse.

“Okay.” You said instead.

He hummed in reason but dropped the conversation after. When you took a look at him from the corner of your eye he didn’t seem deterred at your attitude, seemingly just satisfied that he got a response.

After another lap in, you hated to admit it but companionable silence, you left, without saying anything but this time he waved back at you from below. You didn’t return his gesture.

~*~

Despite your early judgement, the two of you formed some kind of routine over the next few weeks. You came early, and sometimes you left a protein bar for him in the stands and sometimes he brought you a hot tea for when you got off the ice.

Still, always without fail, he joined you for a few laps. He talked about his life and sometimes asked you a few questions. Sometimes you answered him, other times you didn’t. He never pressed for answers.

Nico told you that he was from Switzerland, which explained the heavy accent. He just joined Halifax, and he came early to work on his technique, preferring to do so in silence without his teammates chirping at him. You, in turn, told him that you had skated, professionally, before your injury. He didn’t ask for details about either of these things and you didn’t share of your own accord.

Slowly, so slowly that you didn’t even notice, you realised that he had become your friend.

It was strange. You hadn’t made friends in a long time. Before, you had had school friends, but because you never hung out outside of it, always training, it never deepend.

A weird sort warmth seeped in under your skin at the thought of the two of you being friends like a steady fire that kept you warm at night.

The friends you had made while skating splintered along with your knee.

It was hard, you knew that, to see their worst fear reflected back at them, but it was still hard for you to reach out, so you simply stopped talking to each other.

On your bad days you thought that it was all their fault, on your good you knew that it was a mutual mistake.

The thing about Nico was that he was hard to pin down. He was hardworking, thrived under pressure and loved hockey. He was also afraid of falling and failing, he loved sitting under the sun in the summers, feeling his skin heat up and his favorite colour was green, but he admitted that it changed every few weeks.

You knew that this friendship wouldn’t last, not really. Neither of you had any way of reaching out to the other, and neither expressed the desire to do so but it was still nice, this tentative kinship.

~*~

“Have you ever played hockey?” he asked you, once.

It must have been a Saturday or Sunday because you were in no hurry to get off the ice, instead basking in his company.

“No,” you answered, simply.

He grinned, “you are missing out.”

“Really now?” you asked, teasingly, when you turned around to skate with your front to him.

“Really. I wanna teach you,” he said, leaving the choice up to you without outright asking. If you wanted to you could just brush it off and the conversation would continue.

Instead you said, “yeah, sure, why not.”

His smile was blinding, the adoration for his sport bleeding from every inch of his skin. It was a good look on him, happiness. Distantly you wondered if anyone had ever thought that about you.

It was different, skating with a stick in your hands but it was fun. He taught you how to shoot and aim at a certain spot which you weren’t half bad at if you stood still.

Hours later when the two of you stepped off the ice your tea was cold but you hardly noticed it.

~*~

Another day you asked him what he was reaching for.

“Olympics,” he had answered immediately but after a beat of silence he looked up as if the lights in the ceiling were stars he could wish upon. “I think I want someone to look at me and think ‘I want to do that. I want to start playing hockey.’”

You looked at him and the only thought that crossed your mind was that he was the reason you could step off the ice again, that you knew you would always be able to come back, just one more time.

“I like that,” you said because it was true.

He tilted his head back to you, and the way his eyes glimmered with a rare vulnerability made your breath catch. Or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, standing still, alive and just in reach.

Oh.

That was that feeling in your chest.

~*~

Yet another day he joined you on the ice and you immediately kicked him off again.

“What did I say about injuries?” you asked, frustrated in a way only he could make you.

“That they were not to be ignored,” he parroted back, his gaze between his feet as if staring at his ankle would magically heal it.

“Exactly,” you said. Then, gentler than before, “you need to give yourself time to heal, otherwise you will never get better.”

He looked back up to where you were hovering above him. “Okay.”

You didn’t want him to have the last word. “Okay,” you said firmly and sat down next to him.

The two migrated up to the changing rooms where he sat on a bench with his ankle elevated while you worked through your stretches, your knewww aching in phantom pain.

~*~

Today your mind was quiet.

It was your last time and you had wanted to take it all in again, one last time. You were moving, your father had gotten a new job somewhere in New Jersey. You knew it was good, a new start away from everything, a chance to start over.

But still, you were going to miss this. The rink, the quiet, the place you had grown up in. The place that was your prison as much as it was your salvation.

As you looked up towards the ceiling, the lights shining down on you, the dark gary that seemed black in contrast, you thought you should cry. This was the perfect moment to, and you hadn’t yet.

Then, the door opened.

You were surprised because he wasn’t supposed to be here today. Nico had been here yesterday and the two of you had argued about your favorite brand of cereal, and you selfishly had wanted to leave it at that.

To leave your friendship without having to say goodbye, without having to ever really let go of him.

“Nico,” you breathed, before you could stop yourself.

“Hey you,” he said, as he came up to you. You didn’t even realise that you had stopped moving.

“It’s late,” he stated. You looked up to the clock and sure enough, it was almost twenty past.

“Ah,” you said, uncaring. It’s not like you had school today. You wondered when he went to school, if his just started later than yours had. In all your talks you had never actually talked about it.

And you never were going to anymore, you had to remind yourself. Suddenly it was a lot harder to breathe through the ache in your chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and you knew he meant it, “you look, I don’t know, sad?”

“I’m moving,” before he could ask anything more, “like tomorrow. This is the last time I’m going to see you in a while.”

“Oh.” The expression on his face was hurt, because he must have realised that you had intended to leave without saying anything.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “for everything.” You weren’t really sure for what, but it seemed like the right thing to say. For your intentions, the way you acted, maybe.

“It’s okay,” he said, but it wasn’t, not really. You knew that and he knew that you knew.

“I’m moving to New Jersey.”

He was quiet for a bit.”America,” he started. Then, “do you want to exchange numbers?”

You ignored the sting behind your eyes. “I’m probably going to have to get a new simcard, but you can give me yours.”

The two of you skated back to the door, from where you had stood still in the middle of the open space. He got a piece of paper and a pen from his bag and then somewhat messily tore off the corner of a worksheet and scribbled down his number in blue ink and signed it with his name.

He looked up at you but neither of you said anything for a while. What was there to say, anymore?

“Don’t forget about me,” he ended up telling you and you reached out to hug him. He was warm under your hands, steady and you were going to miss this, him.

“Don’t forget me either,” you murmured into the crook of his neck.

Still, in the back of your mind, you knew that you were never going to use his number. You were going to cut off your old life before it could follow you to your new one. But for once you had told him the truth, you weren’t going to forget about him, probably ever.

And that was that. You said goodbye, waved and you left him there. He returned the gesture, face unreadable and you were sad that the last time he looked at you he wasn’t smiling.

From the top you looked down at him one last time. He seemed bigger now, compared to that first time you had looked down at him, still filled with bitterness.

Maybe that was just your imagination, or maybe it was his confidence after playing with his current team, after seeing his results pay off.

You turned and let the door fall closed behind you.

Then, and only then tears started to well up in your eyes. You ignored them and moved on. Always looking ahead, never back.

Still, you kept the number tucked away safely hidden in a small corner of your wallet. A piece of him that you would always carry with you.

~*~

You made new friends, graduated and decided to attend college. Got diagnosed with chronic depression and mild anxiety, got a boyfriend and broke it off again after three months, cried, laughed and finally lived.

But there was part of you hidden in the corner of your wallet, too.

~*~

If you were being honest, Nico didn’t really cross your mind when your friend asked you to go to a hockey game with you.

In a way he did, because he had been one of your few friends that played hockey, but it was more of an oh yeah, the sport Nico loved and not oh yeah I’m going to a hockey game and I wonder if Nico is still playing, I wonder if he made it to the big leagues.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of a lie, but still. You hadn’t expected this.

The two of you went to the Prudential Center and you were excited despite your earlier apprehension. Your phone with the blocked tags of icehockey and nhl seemed to burn a hole in your pants but it’s not like anyone would know.

Your friend had told you a bit about the team, but if you were being honest, you could not remember any of their names, much less which position and line they played.

When the players got announced, the home team first, you froze. Suddenly the noise of the cheers around you were completely quiet until they flooded back to you, a harsh reminder of reality.

Because it was him. That was Nico. Your Nico. Or like your past Nico.

There, with a red thirteen and a small C over his chest, was Nico. He was all grown up now, and instead of thinking wow, he is kind of attractive when he smiled at the camera, you thought, holy shit, he is really, really handsome.

Your friend picked up on your strange behaviour. “What's wrong?”

I know him, you wanted to scream. I think he saved my life without meaning to, and I think I loved him but I never told him. What came out instead was, “I think I'm going to be sick.”

“What?” she asked, suddenly even more worried, “do you need fresh air? Or do you just want to leave?”

You wanted to stay. You wanted to shoot a puck at his head and tell him to look up at you, the way he had done back then.

“No, don’t worry about it,” you said and when didn’t change at your reply, you added, “I’m just going to get some water. I think it might be the crowd or something.”

“Are you sure? Do you want me to come with?”

You knew how much she had been looking forward to it, and besides there was nothing she could help you with anyhow. “No, really, it’s all good. Just need to breathe for a second.”

She gave you a look, and you smiled despite wanting to curl up in a corner and cry, “if you are sure. But if anything,” she took your hand in hers, “if anything is wrong call me. I’m gonna have my phone in my hand the entire time.”

You squeezed her hand the same way your heart did at her words. “Thank you, really, but it’s okay. I'll be right back.”

Then you fled up the stands and you couldn’t help but think about the first time you had seen him, how you had left without saying anything. You looked down, just once, and spotted him immediately, as if he was the north pole to your south, your eyes drawn to him.

He seemed even bigger now, as if he had finally grown into the steady confidence he had had, even back then.

You smiled. He deserved it, genuinely. You were glad that he did end up making it to the big leagues, even if some part of you hurt at that. You still missed ice skating, your rink from back then, David, but most of all you missed what could have been if you hadn’t been scared.

What could have been if you had just texted him.

Regret was a useless emotion to feel, but all of a sudden you felt yourself drown in and you coughed once, just to ease that feeling in your throat.

Then you turned your back to the ice and walked up the rest of the stairs to the stands to get yourself some water.

It was useless trying to think about any of it now, so you pushed the thoughts aside for later.

~*~

A week later you were drunk. It was a Friday evening and you had finally finished the gruelling lab you had worked on for the entire day.

You were hanging out in your friend’s room, the same friend that had taken you to the game a week before. Two of your other friends were sat ob the floor, leaning gainst the opposite bed and a warm, content feeling spread through your chest.

You had friends now.

“What’s wrong?” she suddenly asked from where she was sat next to you on her bed, her back against the headboard, yours against the wall adjacent to it.

“Nothing,” you answered because nothing was.

“Don’t ‘nothing’ me, tell me,” she said, “you've been quiet ever since we came back from the game a week ago and I’ve waited long enough for you to say something, so now I’m going to.”

Had you been that obvious? Or did she just know you that well? Either way, she deserved the truth, the full truth.

“I just,” you began and stopped again, starting to peel off the sticker on your beer with the blunt edge of your nail.

“When I was younger, I skated.” You started. You knew that she had never expressed any kind of interest in skating so you elaborated further, “really well.” Wow, you were really eloquent tonight.

“Okay,” she said, no doubt wondering where you were going with this.

Your mind was fuzzy around the edges because of the drinks which made harder than usual to focus on your words, but it made it easier to talk about it, too. These people didn’t know about anything that had been, only what was. “I was good enough to win. Olympics, I mean.”

Suddenly one of the other two friends from the other side of the room joined in. “The Olympics?”

“Yeah,” you said, staring firmly at the bottle in your hands, not looking at any of them. “I won bronze and silver, fifteen and sixteen.”

“Holy shit,” she said, as did your other friend, but one of them remained quiet, so you looked at her.

From the look in her eyes you knew that she knew. “And then I fell, badly. Tried to get up again but couldn’t. Went to the doctor and you know,” you trailed off, “retired. Started physiotherapy, got a lot better but…”

“Not enough to ever compete again,” she finished for you.

“Yeah,” you said, voice hoarse. “But I couldn’t let go of it, you know? So sometimes, before school, I snuck out to the local rink and skated around just because I didn’t know anything else.”

Your friend that was next to you on the bed made an encouraging noise, and laid a hand on your knee, so you continued.

“Then I met a guy. I was in a bad mental place, not really talking to anyone unless I had to, but we somehow became friends.”

Then you looked at them, “I don’t know, it was a weird friendship because we only ever saw each other at the rink every few days, but I felt something for him anyway. It wasn’t quite love but could have been, maybe.”

The others were still listening, and the words rushed out before you could stop yourself. “Then I moved. Wanted to leave before saying goodbye because that would hurt too much. On the day I was leaving I saw him anyway. He gave me his number but I never used it.”

“You wanted to make a clean cut?” your friend asked.

“Yeah. It was sefish, because it wasn’t just about me, you know? I should have told him how I felt, but I didn’t.” You shook your head, “but that’s not even the point. I saw him again at the game.”

“Oh,” your friend that had dragged you to it, said.

“Yeah,” you answered, and your other friend asked, “why didn’t you talk to him?”

The other friend, the one that had never asked you about your skating, even though she had known, even though she had every opportunity to, said, “because he was playing, right?”

“Yeah,” you said and you wanted to cry. You could still hear his name announced by the speakers. “Funny, all the time we spent together and I never knew his last name.”

“Who is it?” she asked, gentle, and you knew you could just not answer. You could bury it deep down, once and for all. But that’s not what you wanted to do, not anymore.

“Nico Hischier.” And your friend laughed.

“Of course it’s the captain,” she said and you couldn’t help but join in, the effects of the alcohol cursig through your veins. What were the chances, really? That he ended up in the state you had moved to all those years ago.

The others joined it. “He changed his number by now, I’m sure.”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” one of them said.

All of you were quiet for a second. “Wait, I have an idea,” she said and moved her hand from your leg and grabbed your phone.

She gave it to you and made a motion for you to unlock it. You did and gave it back to her. From where you were sat you weren’t able to see your screen, much less what she typed on it.

After a few seconds she gave it back to you.

It was Nico’s instagram profile. You hesitated before clicking on his most recent post. Your other friends that had been sitting on the floor climbed up to join you.

“Follow him,” one of them said. You could feel your heart thumping in your chest. This was not the account you had used to document your wins and training back then, but it still had your first and last name in the username, but it was on private.

Underneath your thumb the button changed colour. “Fuck,” you said.

The other three laughed at your exclamation. “Wait, do I text him?” you asked, turning to the others.

They all looked back at you, and one of them asked, “do you want to?”

You did. You really fucking did, but you had no idea what to say. “But what do I say? Hey, sorry for being a dick to you when we were like seventeen, I was half in love with you and didn’t know how to tell you, so I just cut you out before anything could possibly hurt me.”

One of them leaned her head on your shoulder. “If you leave out the half in love part, it’s not too bad.”

“You should also ask if he wants to meet and talk in person,” the other said.

You opened your notes app and the four of you composed a message to him.

Your hands were shaking and your heart was beating too fast. This was it, this was your chance and you weren’t going to let go again without a fight. This time you would stay and he could make the choice: to stay or to leave.

Then, you hit the small blue icon and sent it and let out a quiet scream. You wouldn’t be able to take it back, not anymore.

You threw your phone away from you onto a small patch where the blanket you were sitting on was still visible.

Over an hour passed and you still hadn’t heard back from him. Soon after you pased out, but a quiet acceptance had settled in your stomach. He forgot. Or maybe he didn’t see the message or maybe he didn't want to talk to you again, which you couldn’t blame him for.

But when you woke up the next morning, you had a single notification from him.

For a second you debated not clicking on it, but that would mean standing still. It would be different this time. You would be different this time. There was an unfamiliar, new kind of determination that flickered up your spine and it reminded you of the steady ice under your skates, of the final hug the two of you had shared. Harsh, unforgiving, certain.

You clicked on it and there was no going back now.

Nico Hischier Hello, it’s been a while. Of course I remember you, didn’t I tell you? For sure, I'd love to meet up and talk. Does next weekend work for you? I have a home game which makes it easier for both of us.

notes: So. How are we feeling? Thoughts? Part 2? Please talk to me about this one because this lives in my mind rent free.

#nico hischier #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier imagine #nhl #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl x y/n #nhl x you #nhl x reader #ame writes

173 notes · View notes

fariesoiree · 5 months

Text

STRAWBERRY MERINGUE

caution! mdni 6k wrdz, hobie smokes weed, you’re drunk n contact high, you get it blown in your face, exhibitionism, kinda voyeurism, use of the word nigga, use of the word pussy and cunt, public sex, fingering f. receiving, oral m. receiving, sharing of cum, degradation barely ( use of the word bitch and slut once), choking but not really, brat taming if you squint, unprotected sex, pull out method, lmk if i missed anything! pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

hobie takes a long drawl of the blunt between his lips. his eyes are half lidded and his head is tilted back. in the dim lighting, you can barely tell his scleras are red but they are, pupils low and moving slow across the scenery.

he’s careful, knowing that you hate the smell. he doesn’t get it, though. you grumble every time he sparks up, claiming the smell reminds you of body odor, until you’re intoxicated yourself.

tonight, you’re indulging a bit, drunk off mixed liquors so you don’t mind. it’s the last thing you’re thinking about when he sits up and slots his mouth over yours. he blows the smoke into you, ending with a sloppy kiss.

you don’t smoke, or at least that’s what you claim. in a way, you don’t, never actually putting the paper to your lips. you just steal whatever hobie gives you because in your pretty, little head, it’s somehow better.

your body feels heavy. you’re so crossed, not thinking about how you’re tonguing hobie down in front of his friends. they’re not paying you much attention, either. this isn’t surprising, not with the explicit details hobie sometimes shares. it happens every party anyway. as long as you are both intoxicated, you’re unable to keep your hands off each other.

you mewl when he adjusts you in his lap, one hand on your back to draw you forward. your eyes flutter and your hands run over the navy blue mesh of his top. his tongue piercing is warm and bumping against the roof of your mouth.

you’re straddling his lap, standing out in the group of punks with your sparkly pink tank top and denim miniskirt. underneath you, hobie is your opposite in low waisted jeans, distressed and dark. his chains are layered and occasionally clink against each other when he moves.

you’re so in love with him and his little v line, peeking through the sliver of skin visible. you’re too greedy, grinding against his studded belt. the rhinestones don’t bump and graze your sensitive parts enough.

“mm mm,” he hums against your lips. “not here.” he kisses your cheek and creates just a bit of space between you in an attempt to keep you settled. his heart swells at the adorable disappointment in your eyes but he knows better than to comment on it. you like to villainize whatever you can to get your way and he doesn’t want to deal with you the way he usually does right here with everyone’s somewhat watchful eyes.

you sulk when he grins. he only tunes you out and takes another huff of the rolled blunt. “you jealous?” he chuckles at the expression riri, one of his bandmates, sports.

her face is contorted in disgust, being the unfortunate one to catch you two at the wrong time. “no, you’re just gross. i’ve never seen a couple so all over each other than you.”

hobie merely raises his shoulders in a halfhearted shrug. “i told you she was coming. you knew what that meant.” he exhales the smoke in your face again, mockingly sneering at his friend when you welcome it.

you barely hear their conversation between the insatiable throbbing in your core and the need to get inside hobie’s skin. you cling on to him and rest your head in the crook of his neck. he rubs your side while you mindlessly litter dark purple hickies along his collar. his hands come up to graze your arm.

it’s his party, or rather, their party. in celebration, his band decided to have a small get together to celebrate the release of their mixtape. it was supposed to be small. now it’s turned into a house party with the amount of plus ones in attendance.

the music causes a buzz in your bloodstream. you’re delirious and horny out of your mind. somewhere down the line, you made the conscious decision to down a hefty amount of casamigos and now you’re dealing with the consequences. “ ‘bie,” you snivel. you take his hand and guide it in between your bodies until his fingers are over the growing and slightly damp spot over your panties. you pant when he applies pressure, swiping aimlessly back and forth.

the dull ache in your stomach is heightened because of his toying. your drunken mind has you trying to push down on him, only for him to remove his hand with a click of his tongue. “i told you not here. gonna have to wait, pretty girl.”

hobie can’t tell if he’s seeing things when your lips tremble. he squints, both trying to examine the details through the haze and deter you from throwing a tantrum. you’re already halfway there, assuming he doesn’t care about what you want. you’re just about to give him a piece of your mind when you’re interrupted, timed perfectly.

“hey hobes?”

both your heads turn, spotting another band member stood to the side.

karl looks untroubled as he crashes somewhere on the couch. he hums as he gets comfortable, eyes scanning the crowd with a mischievous smile. “won’t believe what i gotta tell you.

“yeah?” hobie dangles one long arm off the back of the couch. he rests his head on his shoulder. the action both distracts and reminds you of your mission to decorate him in love bites.

you’re unaware of how karl turns, nodding his head in your direction. “some fucker wants to get to know your girl. saw us walking around and thought we were cool, thinks I can make something happen.”

you remain unaware still. the words don’t click in your head, no matter that hobie is speaking right here with you in his lap.

“oh?” he laughs a bit at the thought. it doesn’t bother him and happens more frequently than one would think. he’s gotten used to their gross antics but he doesn’t feel jealous. no, he’s pleased. pleased that someone else can recognize that he’s got the best girl. “hear that, princess? got a second boyfriend.” his eyes are downcast and on you.

you’re too dazed and busy to listen, covering every part of his skin until there is no space left. “don’t care,” you murmur. you’re not sure what you’re uncaring towards but it doesn’t matter. not when there are more important tasks to deal with.

hobie pulls you up by the neckline. he’s not shocked when you’re already glaring at him, convinced that, at this point, he’s torturing you. “you should. it’s rude to not speak to someone, you know.”

you feel so incredibly petulant beyond words. you blow a short breath through your nose. it takes you a second to find it, find your tone and patience. unfortunately, you can’t. “huh?” you snap.

fortunately, hobie doesn’t care. “you got a valentine or whatever the fuck. should go to talk to him.”

you know it’s not really a request.

it’s a game you both play, showing off your relationship to anyone who’ll see. as much as you hate being ripped away from him at times like this, you enjoy the game, too. it usually ends all hot and heavy, just how you like it.

before you’re standing he holds up a finger to karl, motioning the man to wait. hobie brings the blunt to his lip and immediately shotguns it into yours. he’s nasty about it, a hand groping your ass and rolling your hips down into his.

“jesus christ,” karl mutters. his face is scrunched up and even if the dark lighting, you can tell his cheeks are firetruck red.

yeah, showing off your relationship to anyone who’ll see.

you grin, patting karl’s shoulder as you stand. admittedly, you stumble a bit. your balance is all fucked up and you probably aren’t making the best decisions. “this will be you one day, bud.”

karl takes your hand in his. he can already tell you won’t be able to make it across the room without aid. you probably haven’t stood up since you sat down, too busy damn near dry humping hobie. “gee, i can only hope.”

hobie sighs, a deep rumble spreads in his chest. “not a scratch, karl.” he takes his eyes over you from head to toe, as slow as he can afford. they starting at your heels, up to the buns on either side of your head.

“we’re gonna go pimp her out, not to war.” the other rolls his eyes, trading his hand in yours to your elbow, both for more support and because he doesn’t know where you put it.

you both begin your trek around the quite spacious living room. you don’t know where you’re going and occasionally, you’re tripping over yourself. it’s not all that bad. most of the fault is because you decided to wear heels and even though they were thick and blocky, it didn’t do much in your current state.

your ankle wobbles and karl has to yank you upright. he doesn’t know how you haven’t injured yourself by now. maybe you are going to war, but with yourself. “what the hell? how much did you drink?”

you giggle with a shake of your head. “didn’t count. it’s fine! ‘m not blacked, just tipsy, maybe. oh and a little high.” you’re really not that far under the influence, you think. most of the influence is pure lust and when it’s subtracted from the occasion, you’re all bubbly.

karl looks over your shoulder. his attention is behind you and you see him wave someone over. “yeah well, try not to bust your ass. i’m calling that guy over now. his name is fuckin’ max or something like that.”

you completely forgot that’s what you came over for. it’s only been a few steps but between your bumbling and laughter, it slipped your mind. “oh. are you gonna stick around?”

“hell no,” karl sucks in his breath. his face twists and he points in pinky at hobie. “i don’t wanna be here when he gets up. you two are bad enough when you’re calm.”

sure enough, he’s still watching with a clear view from the couch in the corner. he lifts his fingers and wiggles them in a wave. you lick your lips at the sight of his hands. your pussy throbs at the thought of them pushing deep inside you.

“yeah, i’m out.” karl waves his hand in front of your face to get your attention. “i’ll be around if you need me. just call, i’ll hear you.” he doesn’t want to experience what you freaks are about to get into but he also doesn’t want to leave you here, faded with a man you don’t know.

he waits until the trade off happens and you’re left semi alone. you’re not exactly shy but nothing comes to mind. you’re uninterested, having already committing yourself to another. “max?”

“mark,” he says. he doesn’t look like anything interesting. sagging his jeans and wearing an ill fitting shirt. definitely not your type. if you lost him in a crowd, he’d disappear. his first mistake would be losing you in the first place.

however, if you want to be tossed onto the nearest surface, you have to push through it. “oh my gosh, i’m so sorry!” you flash a smile. you rock back on your feet, only to trip over yourself. without karl holding you up, you find yourself grasping for balance. an honest giggle leaves your lips at your clumsiness but it’s mistaken for delight.

mark’s hands grab at your waist and your first thought is how they don’t compare. they’re much smaller and he definitely isn’t handling you with care. you have to remind yourself not to frown when you’re jostled back onto your feet. “havin’ a lot of fun tonight? your nigga didn’t stop you?”

you can’t stop looking at his hand still holding on to you. if you weren’t turned off by his appearance, you are now with his lack of awareness. you make an excuse to bump his hand off when you “adjust” the top of your shirt. “who, karl? karl and i are not . . . definitely not.”

in mark’s head, this means you don’t have one. even if you did, there’s much doubt he’d care. “so what? you don’t have one then. you want one?”

“um . . .” you flick your eyes over to hobie. you know he’s still watching and knows it’s a universal sign that you can’t take anymore of this. “i do have one. just not him so . . .” you gather your hands together and curl them into each other.

“you can’t have friends? we don’t gotta do nothin’, just chill.” he speaks with his hands. they’re waving all in the air and smacking against each other. typically it wouldn’t annoy you but you really just don’t like this guy. “i mean, you don’t gotta tell him. he ain’t gonna go shit, anyway.”

you scoff to yourself. before you have a chance to defend your lanky little stick bug, a familiar presence subtly appears at your side.

you turn to him before he’s even looking at you.

his hand is on your cheek, gingerly. hobie isn’t glaring, nor is he smug but there’s something about him. as if he knows something mark doesn’t. and he does. he knows mark doesn’t stand a chance, knows he’s going to be upset someone like hobie has you wrapped around his finger. he knows he’s not going like the way he dresses and talks. he’s going to go off to his friends and call hobie a bitch and whatever other caveman words he can think of.

that’s exactly why he doesn’t stand a chance.

“made a new friend?” hobie finally looks at you. his gaze softens immediately and he moves forward to kiss your lips.

“something like that.” you sigh sweetly. even with your shoes, you don’t compare to his height. you have to pull yourself up. your aim is to deepen the kiss, biting his bottom lip when he doesn’t oblige.

hobie only pats your butt and you pout. “thanks for comin’, man. we really appreciate it.” he doesn’t offer any sign of respect. it won’t be returned. call him mean, say he’s stereotyping, but he has enough experience to know when someone will appreciate his presence and when someone won’t.

mark grimaces. he gives hobie a once over, obviously not happy with what he’s seeing. “this is your thing? shit. if i knew that, i wouldn’t have came.”

you feel something vile bubbling up in your throat. your stomach churns at his words. how dare he? he looks like every other person in the room, in this place that hobie pays for, and insults him like he’s worth something.

“well, it’s a good thing i told you then, huh? leave if you want to. have a good night.” hobie speaks before you do. he wraps his arm around your shoulder and slots his hand over your mouth. knowing your temper, he doesn’t need you making anything worse.

you both watch him stalk off in two different moods. hobie is just as calm as ever. he lets his aggression roll of his back like nothing. meanwhile, you’re grumbling about what a terrible person he is, how you don’t like him and anything you stands for.

“dumb bitch. that’s why you’re weird and bitchless.” you’re more upset he ruined the way things are supposed to go. hobie is supposed to take you in his arms and fluster both you and the third person. instead, you end up grumpy.

hobie chuckles. he massages your shoulder, adoringly watching you go on and on about how he sucks. “yeah? what’d he say to you?”

the thought alone has you groaning and going on another spiel. “he asked if you let me ‘have friends’ and ‘i don’t have to tell you’.” you crinkle your nose. as if you’d ever cheat and lie about it, or lie about anything at all. there’s no secrets in between you two and if there is any ever hesitation, it comes out eventually when the other person is ready. you can’t imagine keeping anything from him with ill intent. “you should have clocked him in the jaw,” you pivot and face him. you’re extra careful not to do it too fast and wrap your arms around his thin waist.

“while you’re standing right here? not gonna do that.” he hooks his hands under your arms and lifts you onto his waist. “you get hurt and i’ll blow this whole place up.”

with your little skirt, half your ass is out. you squeal, a hand going down to maintain as much modesty as you can. hobie is no help. he doesn’t care. his freak ass wants someone to see. getting rid of one person doesn’t mean everyone else’s eyes are no longer wandering.

he takes you back over to your original resting spot without struggle despite your wiggling and complaining that he isn’t doing anything to help you. he plops back down back, smirking when you’re bouncing from the impact. your hands fly to his shoulders to steady yourself.

“you’re done smoking?” you look around the group and don’t see a blunt in sight. it’s surprising from them, considering they always pass around multiple in rotation every night. you were only gone for a few minutes.

“i am. they’re not.” hobie pulls the strap of your top up. it’s fallen and despite the view of your tits he got, he didn’t particularly want everyone else to see them. not yet, at least.

he runs his hands along the tops of your thighs, straddling him. his thumb dips dangerously on the inner and dig into your bikini line when they run high.

you draw a breath, zeroing in on the action. “oh. why?” you can’t hear him when the need comes crashing back, just as strongly as it did before. you were under the impression this wouldn’t be happening and had no idea he planned on doing it here.

hobie likes you like this. he can never really describe it but you melt so easily. one touch, one graze of his fingertips and you’re all soft. it’s nice you can keep up with his libido but it’s even better when he can keep up with yours. “ ‘cause i don’t want to. why do you think?”

you don’t know what to think right now. not when his thumb grazes over your clit so slowly. it’s always you who’s so worked up while he’s so lax.

you rut against him, lip tucked under your teeth. you don’t know where to put your hands without making it obvious. he’s occupying the space in your lap and you wouldn’t dare clench the front of his shirt.

you settle for behind you, resting on your calves. in hindsight, it has the opposite effect but you’re all dizzy. you pant when he rolls the bud under his pads of his finger. you’re simultaneously regretting and rejoicing in the fact that you decided to wear a thong for the outfit. it’s thin and does nothing to dull the feeling.

a hand reaches into your peripheral. you can see the rolled smoke in between it’s fingers but you can’t be bothered to look over and see who it belongs to.

“thanks,” hobie acknowledges it. he leans into it to take his puff and tilts his head back. the remnants are released in the air rather than your face. the smell mixes with his cologne, musky and woodsy. you wouldn’t like it any other time but now. now, any part of him makes your pussy wet.

“thought you weren’t smoking,” you tilt your hips up and further into his hand.

he lets you, wanting you to become as unnerved as possible. “i wasn’t, then. i am, now.” his attention flicks down to your crotch. hobie wishes the lighting is a little better. he can’t see anything like this. sure, he can see his actions but he can’t see the effect it has on you. he can feel the damp spot when his fingers drift too far down and push into you as far as your underwear will allow.

you squirm, tempted to tug it to the side yourself. you can’t breathe under the pressure of need. how much longer is he going to delay this?

“stop movin’,” he squeezes your hip. “i let you act like act like a bitch in heat for a second but now you’re gettin’ greedy.” he doesn’t usually speak to you like this but when he does, it has you gushing. you keen while your head hangs low.

you clench your hands into fists and screw your eyes shut. “sorry.” you say while giving him your best attempt to sit still.

“and look at me. i’m playing with your cute little pussy. the least you can do is look at me.”

you shake your head in refusal but make eye contact with him, anyway. you’re shy, not because he’s toying with you, but because he’s toying with you in front of his friends, in front of everyone here.

“there you go,” he quietly praises you just under his breath, “there she is.” hobie nudges his way against you, nose poking at your neck. “it’s too bad i can’t suck on it till you’re creaming.”

you jump, your shoulder meeting your ear. it’s unintentional, following the way his breath tickles your skin. “don’t say that,” your voice is all watery.

he pulls the your baby blue panties to the side and sucks his teeth. his eyes are rolling at your words. “don’t say that? i have my fingers deep inside you and you’re telling me not to say that?”

“you don’t – ”

your body falls forward when it happens, when hobie plunges in his fingers without warning. your mouth drops open, knees digging into his side when your legs attempt to close. “ohh,” it leaves your mouth long and drawn out. the sudden stretch of his pointer and middle finger makes your body curl.

“someone just sold me these shrooms.”

you hear the crinkle of a bag somewhere nearby and the sound only gets louder. you can assume it’s being passed around but your blood is pumping in your ears. you breathe heavily, mindlessly sinking your teeth into his shoulder.

“i’d let you hold ‘em, hobes, but . . .”

his body shakes underneath you when he laughs lightly. his fingers don’t stop their incessant movements, stroking your walls. “all good. how much did you pay?”

you writhe when hobie digs into your spot, the palm of his hand bumping against your clit. you can feel a small stream of drool pooling out of your cheek. it’s more so with how chaotic you are, tongue and teeth relishing at his neck.

you feel a heavy arm stilling you against him despite your struggle.

“don’t mind her. she’s just being a baby ‘bout it.” he doesn’t apologize for his explicit acts. he apologizes for your distracting reactions, for your quiet moans. it unnerves you.

here you are, worked up and dripping in front of your boyfriend’s friends. they’re so casual about it and as much as you hate to remember, they’re not wrong to be. hobie gets off on this and by default, you do too.

“is she a baby or are you an absolute ass?”

“you’re gonna irritate me and i’m gonna take it out on her.” his lips is upturned and lazy. “so how much did you pay for it?”

you don’t care to listen to the rest of the conversation. you’re very obviously grinding downward to feel him deeper and it only results in you tightening around him with a gasp. you’re weakly tugging his face until he’s turned around.

he’s not exactly thrilled to be interrupted from his conversation but he takes pity and gives in. your lip connect, tongues immediately tangling with each other. your saliva mixes and he sucks on your tongue to satiate you. on occasion, your teeth bump and crash against each other but it doesn’t discourage you. you only lean into it.

his fingers increase their pace and he ignores the cramp in his wrists. he juts his fingers against the spot that has you digging your nails into him.

this is so surreal. you and your friends always like fun at the people who get off at your college parties. you’ve told hobie the stories in the past but he seemed disinterested. now, you’re those people at those parties and it doesn’t sound as bad.

“you cummin’?” he whispers to you and you alone. he prefers to this part to himself, only you two knowing without speculation.

your lifting your hips to escape the stimulation, mouth running dry from the way it hangs open. “mhm,” you squeal. the ball wound up tight in your core releasing, accompanying spurts of cream.

your chest heaving as you gulp out air. hobie pulls his fingers out with a low squelch only he can hear. a low whistle leaves his lips at the where his fingers glisten. you’re expecting him to press them to your tongue but your eyes widen when they continue to extend outwards. instead, they’re all in riri’s mouth.

they’re both eyeing you and you don’t know what to do. your attention darts between the both of them before focusing on the floor. your hands fiddle with your skirt. your face is burning, your whole body is.

“damn hobes,” she mumbles.

you can still feel their gaze on you, thick and heavy.

his hands are running from your back to your calves and back up again. the saliva is smearing over your skin. “i know. it’s better right from the source.” he slides your panties back in there spot and ignore how disappointed you look.

“ ‘bie,” you want to cry. you don’t want to beg in front of everyone but it’s as if he doesn’t care about you.

“stop your whinin’,” he fixes you with a pointed glare. hobie pushes you off his lap til you’re standing. “we’ll be back.” he doesn’t have to explain himself for everyone to understand what’s happening, not that he would anyway. he gets off the couch and takes your hand in his.

hobie takes you with him, guiding you to the bathroom. both your hands are clasped around his and you’re staring at him, wide eyed, rather than your surroundings.

he can feel you watching him. you’re doe eyed and it makes him harder than he already is. it’s as if he’s the only one that can fix it, and he truly is. hobie nearly tosses you into the bathroom. he slams the door behind him and flicks over the lock.

when he turns around, you’re kneeling and pawing at his jeans. you pout when you undo his zipper.

“what’s wrong, pretty?” hobie hooks his fingers under your chin and lifts it to his. “you don’t have to suck it if you don’t want to.”

“it’s not that,” you pull down his jeans . you wrap your fingers around the base and jerk your hand up and down his shaft. “you embarrassed me really bad.” you poke your cheek with your tongue. “can’t face your friends, now.”

hobie pinches your cheek. he mocks your expression before breaking out in a smile. “didn’t look embarrassed fucking yourself on my fingers. i’m not the one who licked your cum off ‘em.” he squeezes your face together until your lips are puckered.

he slaps his tip against your lips and smears the saliva-precum mix across your cheeks. you’re not moving fast enough, too busy telling him “problems” that he couldn’t care about. you don’t even mean them, just want something to irritate him with.

you shut your lips tightly and cross your arms over your chest. he’s only making you more likely to be difficult. you turn your cheek at him and stare at the rug. “not listening to me.”

hobie sighs and runs his hands over his face. he knows you’re delicate and are quick to throw a fit when you feel you have to. if he doesn’t get you under wraps, he’ll have to put in more effort in the long run. “what is it, baby? because the last time i checked, you’re the one who was about to scream my head off because i didn’t take out my dick right then and there.”

you purse your lips harder. “i wasn’t screaming. you’re being dramatic.”

“i’m being dramatic?” he cannot believe you right now. he squats down until you’re levelled with each other. his hand engulfs you by the throat. he doesn’t squeeze, just holds you close. “you’re mad at me because you came. most of it was your work, though. don’t piss me off.”

neither of you say anything for the passing moment. the only movement made is the small nod of your head.

he releases you following a quick peck on your lips. he stands and you’re back to your previous task, swallowing his cock. you hollow your cheeks, hands on his thighs.

hobie grips the sink behind you. he has to siphon his strength to prevent from breaking the counter. he tries, he really does to keep himself from fucking your throat.

he always does start off as gentle, restraining himself. he watches you, watches your spit dribble and froth. his hand strokes the back of your head. he’s all langley, long enough to do so with no problems.

you realize too late when he pushes your head down until you’re choking, eyes watering with your tears. they spill over your eyes when you close them and gasp for air when he lets go.

hobie brushes your tears away while you wheeze. “couldn’t help myself.” he does feel apologetic, although he would definitely do it again. he doesn’t, though. not until you’re ready, sniffling and aligning his cock with your mouth.

you relax as much as you can. after his big push, you down more than the last attempt. you’ve never been able to fit his whole dick in your mouth, considering the length. the rest of it is beneath your hands, being squeezed and rubbed.

he can’t help the way he bucks his hips forward. he does feel guilty when you choke but it’s overwhelmed by the vibrations of your temporary struggle. still, you persist. you suck and slurp despite your need for air. you’re a bit lightheaded and grateful when hobie takes a step back and pulls himself out.

he exhales, thumb pressing on his tip and holding his cock still to discourage himself from cumming. you can’t even fathom how you make him feel. he believes even if you kissed him long enough, he could cum untouched. “you’re so good to me,” he wets his lips, the other hand on the wall. “so good, too good.”

you drink in the praise with a satisfied smile. you wriggle your toes beneath you and decide to take advantage of his lack of attention. your fingers dip between your legs and underneath your underwear.

you lean forward just enough to fingerfuck yourself. it doesn’t feel as good as when he does it, purely because your hands are much smaller than his. “hobie,” you call out to him.

his actions to last longer are almost futile when he meets your big brown eyes. “slut,” he mutters and pulls you to your feet.

you don’t hide your smile when he turns you around by your hips and pushes you down over the counter. he flips your skirt up and yanks your panties down to your ankles.

you don’t give him a chance to tease, pushing your hips back the moment you feel his dick lined up with your slit. you grip the countertop until the tips of your fingers are white and devoid of the red tint.

hobie pushes down on your the small of your back. he trails his thumb over your tramp stamp. he looms over you, your back pressed against his chest. “you’re so pretty, honey. y’know that?” he squeezes your jaw, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. he thinks you look a little better like this, with tear stains streaming down your face and leaving the trails in your powder. the eyeliner you spent so long to perfect is a bit smudged and the highlight in the corner of your hair is gone.

you whine and wiggle your hips. he’s not doing enough. he’s not doing anything but talking about you and that’s not what you want. “stop talking, please.” you feel miserable, shoes clicking against the floor when you shuffle your feet.

“don’t start complainin’, you hear me? i don’t wanna hear it.” he kisses the nape of your neck and rises.

you think nothing of it. you’re awfully confident until he’s grasping your hips and snapping into you. you nearly scream, reaching back and pressing against his stomach.

hobie shoves your hand off his body and holds it instead. “what did i just say?” he much rather you squeeze his hand, nails pressing into his skin. he guides it back to the counter and leaves them both there, his other hand fucking you back onto him.

he’s using you. you can hear the the sound of impact between your skin. you can feel it too, toes curling under the straps of your heels. you can’t keep yourself quiet, moaning into the back of your hand.

for once, hobie doesn’t reprimand you about it. you can already barely stand, forehead resting against the coolness of the composite.

your legs wobble and you’re depending completely on him to hold you up. he’s a little limited in his view, unable to see your breasts bouncing underneath you. he’s not able to see your face, either.

you make up for it in the way you moan. he can hear his name slipping in, muffled in your hand. the other, underneath his, curls and coils. there is no escaping him when you’re pressed against a hard surface and he’s pressed against you.

“ ‘obie,” you pant. you bend your knee and straighten it out as a way to express your pleasure. in the end, he holds it in the air. with both your hands free, you use the hold on the counter to push back against him.

“don’t worry. i got you.” he reaches under your lifted leg, rolling your sensitive nerves between his fingers.

your back arches and you throw your head over his shoulder. your arms tremble as the waves of your orgasm comes crashing against you.

you’re dizzy, falling forward because he fucks you through it. your mouth is open and drool pools over the side. you don’t care. your cunt throbs with over sensitivity and tears begin in your eyes again.

hobie uses your back dimples as leverage. your pleas ring around in his brain but it’s all foggy. he’s so close and it’ll plaguing his thoughts. “sorry, angel. i’m so sorry.” his hand falls beside your eyes. his pace quickens and he has to cover your mouth when you get too loud.

he suddenly pulls out, spewing his cum over your ass. hobie has to take a second behind you, not that you mind. you don’t feel like moving yourself even when your tits are all squished and uncomfortable.

a few minutes pass before he takes some tissue to clean you up with soft touches. “you did so good.” he says, tossing the tissue away and getting another to wipe the slick on your thighs. “my perfect girl. you okay?”

“mhm.” you haven’t gotten up, eyes closed. your hit with an onslaught of sleepiness, your guess is from the waning influence of everything you’ve consumed tonight.

hobie pulls your underwear back up and fixes your skirt back into its place. he pulls your partially limp body up and gathers you in his arms. “are you fallin’ asleep?”

“mhm,” you hum again, coddling into his warmth.

he smiles, hooking his arms under your knees and lifting you into the air. he doesn’t have to ask to know you would love to be left alone to sleep so he takes it upon himself to carry you to his room to rest.

hobie really can’t wait until you wake up and he tells you all about how he fucked you to sleep.

#ִ ࣪✮🕷✮⋆˙#the ending is sooooo bad #rushed bc im sleepy!#and also bc i didn’t know how to end it #didn’t live up to my expectations but mayb bc it’s me #might revisit last???#astv hobie #hobie brown #hobie smut #hobie x black!reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #x black fem reader #x black reader #x reader

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comethead · 3 months

Note

hi hi hello! never made a request before i’m kinda new to tumblr lol

ANYWAYS.

jason x fem!reader and reader broke her ankle and ofc jason is being super sweet and gentle and eventually reader really wants to fuck him but he’s hesitant bc broken ankle but like super sweet gently sex?? (also pretty pet names please i’d actually melt)

- 🦚 (can that be my anon?)

omg hiii, yes! 🦚 anon I hope you're still around cuz haha school got in the way but here is your request! hope you enjoy >u<

Care for You

MDNI // smut // Jason Todd x Reader

(afab reader, creampie, praise, gentle sex, pussy eating, no use of y/n)

Ao3 Link

“Hey, hey, settle down, I’ll grab that for you.”

You huff, sitting back down on the bed as Jason reaches for the magazine you were eyeing. They sat at a pile at the foot of your bed, which you’ve been confined to for as long as Jason was around. That being, always, as he hasn’t left your side since you broke your ankle, with the exception of going on patrol (but not without telling you a hundred times over to give him a call for absolutely anything).

You give your boyfriend a peck on the cheek once he closes the distance between you two to hand you your magazine. “Thank you Jay, though I will say I’m not that fragile you know,” you pout, flipping open the booklet to the first couple of pages. He snuggles up to you, resting his head on your shoulder as he murmurs, “I know, but I’m gonna take care of you regardless. Can’t have my baby going and breaking her other ankle.” You smack him lightly on the arm for the last comment as he chuckled. You puff out your cheeks in mock anger and turn your head swiftly away from him. Gently, he places a hand on your chin to turn you to look back at him. “C’mon, you can’t stay mad at me for long, can you sweetheart?” You melt under his gaze, and flush as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. You press your lips against his when he draws back, and he gladly returns your passion by deepening the kiss. Before long, the two of you are making out, breaking apart for air before locking lips again.

You tug at his shirt, beckoning him to take it off. You’re incredibly turned on, the way his lips are wet and red from making out, watching his broad chest rise and fall as he pants. “Hey,” he breathes, “I don’t think we should…your ankle-”. You shush him, and whip out that magazine from earlier. You flip to a page and show him a little diagram with a small paragraph describing it. “Look, it's a sex position that won't strain or jostle my ankle too much,” you say proudly, grinning at the way Jason’s eyes widen. “Jeez, my pretty baby is doing her research, huh?”, he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You smile back at him, tossing the magazine aside. “Soooooo..?” you ask, running your hands down his chest and to his stomach, noting the way his breath hitches. “Mmm, I really think you shouldn’t risk it babe,” he groans, catching your hands and holding them in place.

“Oh Jay, I promise I’ll say something if it hurts at all and we’ll stop immediately. Pretty please?”, you whine, gazing hopefully into his eyes. Jason sighs, releasing your hands and moving his to your breasts as he massages them. You whimper, placing your hands on top of his as he whispers, “Alright, you better keep that promise though.” The low notes of his voice sends tingles down to your tummy and you can barely contain your arousal as you moan, his fingers pinching your sensitive nipples. Moving down, he pulls your shorts down slowly, making sure not to move your ankle too much. Kissing your bare thighs, you suppress another moan when you feel his hot breath against your cunt. Jason moves your panties aside as he licks a broad stripe on your folds, feeling your wetness on his tongue. You nearly clamp your legs around his head in pleasure, your head thrown back and mouth open in a silent plea for more. Wrapping his arms around your thighs, he holds you gently yet firmly in place as he continues eating you out. Circling his tongue around your clit, you let out a breathy moan from the stimulation as he works at bringing you to your climax. Adjusting your legs with the slightest of movements and with great care, Jason pulls back from your soaked cunt, your pleasure evident on his chin. “Fuck baby, you look so damn pretty,” he breathes, gazing at you with half-lidded eyes. You flush, covering your face. “Hey, don’t get all shy on me alright?” he gently pushes your hand away from your face as he cups your cheek in one hand. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he says, kissing you softly. You return the gesture, and the taste of yourself has your pussy clenching around nothing. “Oh Jay, please-”

“Mhm, I got you baby.” He’s pulling his boxers down now, his hard cock bumping against your sensitive clit. Slowly, he begins to push his length in, whispering praises and groaning at the way you squeeze around him. Thrusting gently so as to not jostle your legs too much, you feel another orgasm build up. His steady pace keeps you moaning and crying out his name as you feel his dick fill you up. “Oh fuck,” he pants, leaning down to press little kisses to your neck up to your face. As much as you’re able to, you rock your hips onto his cock, feeling the stretch of your pussy accommodating his girth when he bottoms out. “Shit, sweetheart, I’m- ngh- I’m close,” he moans, thrusting faster. You whimper as you feel your own orgasm approaching, finally cumming when your sweet Jason cums deep into your cunt, filling you up. The two of you stay like that for a while, with him in you and the both of you breathing heavily. He finally pulls out and carefully lays down next to you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Told you I’d take care of you,” he smirks, and you roll your eyes in false annoyance, happy to have had sex with your favorite boy.

#🦚#jason todd #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #dc smut #mdni #red hood #suggestive

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squirmhoney · 1 year

Text

A Lesson Learnt

(Part Two of What he’s owed)

A/N: I didn’t even think I’d write a part 2 but here we are. Also I said I’d never write anal but here I am writing it and I actually thoroughly enjoyed the way it turned out. As always please read the warnings. Warnings: Yandere! Dick Grayson. Non con. Dub Con. Anal. Smut. Dacrayphilia. Hostage situation. 18+ Minors DNI Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Word count: 3.3k+

Wayne Enterprise technology had always fascinated you since being in the manor. While you had never taken an interest in becoming a vigilante, you thought you could see yourself working for Wayne Enterprise one day. But if Dick had any say in it, you sure you'd be house bound for the rest of eternity.

As the days had gone on, Dick had practically turned you into his personal sex slave. And the advanced technology that once fascinated you, didn't any longer. Instead you looked at it with a deep hatred and anger as it now had been used against you in one of the most cruelest ways. The black anklet laughing at you humourlessly as it bound you to the four walls of Dick Grayson's room.

In one way you were glad that he hadn't just hand cuffed you to his bed, at least giving you the freedom to walk around the bedroom and access to the en-suite. But he still had you as his hostage or as you liked to call it "his personal sex doll." As much as Dick adored that term, telling you that he knew how much you loved it, he also liked to tell you that you were more than that to him. You were everything to him.

But you just couldn't see it.

However, you couldn't deny the worry that etched in your stomach every time he came back more bruised than the night before. Or the fear that after every argument before he left your bedroom doors might be your last and you regretted to leave him in on such terms.

And because of that, you begun to hate yourself more than you ever hated Dick. But you'd never allow these feelings to show, burying them deep every time he walked through those bedroom doors. The only time you became vulnerable was after a few rounds in bed, being pushed to the point of a sobbing mess on top of him. Then you'd cling to him like your life depended on it, not wanting him to ever go.

A hand cupped your face, stirring out of your sleep as a voice followed it, "My pretty fuck doll all tucked up in bed for me."

"I'm tired," you murmured, trying to snuggle back into the comfort of the bed. You knew Dick wouldn't listen, he never did but you tried every time anyway. "Let me sleep, please."

"Baby, don't test me tonight," his voice was rough, coming out as a harsh warning that had your stomach churning. "You have until I get these clothes off me to be on top of those bed sheets."

"No."

Dick chuckled but there was no smile that met his lips, only a dark gaze that lingered on your form under his sheets. He was quick to tear his clothes off, letting each item drop to the floor with a slight thud, giving you time to be ready for him.

But you were being disobedient as always.

"I think you like how mean I can be to you," Dick hummed, crawling over the bed sheets towards you. His hand wrapped around your throat, not enough to hurt but enough to draw your attention so you turned to him. "Are you going to be good for me tonight?"

Even with your eyes open you could barely see him in the dark room but you didn't miss how the moon hit off his shoulders, highlighting the new bruise there. You grimaced at the sight, eyes softening and you knew he noticed.

"Worried about me, are we?" A smirk settled onto his lips, grip on your throat loosening. "You know how you can make me feel better."

"Dick, please," you pleaded. "Just give me a break tonight."

"But then who's going to make my dick wet tonight," Dick purred into the subtle skin of your neck. "Be a good girl for me and you'll get treated like one."

Dick looked over you, hand lifting from your throat as he used both arms to cage you in. He smiled when you shuddered underneath him, admiring the way goosebumps covered you arms in slight fear. He knew even with how much you wanted to deny it, there'd be a pool waiting for him between your thighs.

"I thought we agreed you didn't need to wear clothes in my bed," he tutted, tugging at the edge of his t-shirt you were wearing. Within a second it was off, ripped from your body and behind him in a pile with the rest of his clothes. "Much better."

Of course you were still going to wear clothes, wanting to keep the one last shred of dignity you had in this room. Otherwise you would of admitted defeat and that isn't something you were so easily willing to do.

His knee pushed your thighs open, making it easier for him to manoeuvre himself between your legs. With how close he was getting to your core, you could feel the tears already brimming in your eyes, embarrassed with knowing how wet he already made you. You couldn't help the way your body reacted to him, you couldn't even begin to understand it yourself.

"I don't want to do this tonight," your voice was desperate as your hands came out to push him away. "Please."

Next thing you knew was your hands were pinned above your head, Dick hovering his face above yours as he frowned. His pupils completely blown out as he stared at you, making you turn away.

"I'm sorry," you were quick to mutter out, lips quivering at the thought of what was about to happen.

"I gave you a chance, don't say I didn't."

"I'll be good."

"I warned you enough already, looks like you need to learn."

Dick shoved your thighs apart, hand reaching down to slap across your pussy. He chuckled at the way you bucked your hips and gasped, repeating the action again but specifically to your puffy clit.

"At least you remembered not to wear any panties this time."

It was mortifying when he brought his fingers up in front of you, showing you how they were already coated in your juices. He pushed them into his mouth, humming in sweet delight at the taste.

"Such a mess for me."

His fingers reached back down, forcing their way into your walls to make sure you were fully stretched for him. You could feel the coolness of one of his rings entering you and you couldn't help yourself as you bucked your hips towards him. If there was one thing Dick Grayson knew how to do right, that was how to massage your walls. Whether it was his fingers or his dick, he'd have you a whorish mess for him in no time.

"Oh Dick," you whimpered when his fingers slid out of you.

"Don't worry pretty thing, I'm still going to take care of you," he chuckled menacingly, flipping you over onto your stomach. His hands moulded you into place so easily, having your face stuffed into his pillows and your back in that perfect arch. "See you know exactly what you're doing, Princess."

That nickname made your stomach churn, feeling the bile rise at your throat. He used to call you that when you first moved in, making sure you felt like a Princess in these walls and he was supposed to be your knight. But really he had been your captor in disguise and it made you wonder how long he had been praying on you for.

His fingers slid across your folds, gathering your slick and spreading it. You felt his thumb slide past your entrance, running over your other hole making you twist your head back to look at him.

"We definitely have to play with this hole sometime soon," Dick said, thumb circling the rim of it. "I bet you'd enjoy this. I know I would."

Without warning he pushed his thumb into you, making you wince at the intrusion not being at all prepared for it. You tried to wriggle away, not comfortable with the way it felt but he wasn't having any of it. His free hand held your hips in place, grip tightening to keep you still.

"Stay still for me and I'll make it feel better," he directed you, using more of your wetness to loosen you up. You grinded down on your teeth at the pressure, your hand even gripping onto the head board in front of you. "It'll ease up in a second just stay fucking still."

You were whimpering now, shoving your head into the pillows to hide your noises. You never even thought about doing this but of course Dick wanted every part of you he could take, not happy till he had conquered your whole body.

Like he said, it eased up eventually. The lube of your own slick being worked in help it open up and the feeling had your walls clenching down for some sort of needed release. One that Dick was too eager to give.

Dick's tip prodded against you, gathering wetness before poking at your entrance. With his thumb still inside your other hole, Dick pushed himself into your cunt, making sure to bottom out. And you really couldn't deny how close you could feel yourself to your orgasm, the new pressure building something new inside of you.

"Dick," you let out in a harsh breath, needing his attention.

"You're okay, baby," he groaned, sliding his free hand across your back. "It's all okay."

His thrusts inside you were slow, painfully slow. But with the way his thick cock filled you had you clenching around him, mewling like some sort of bitch in heat.

And he was loving every filthy second of it.

"Dick I'm gunna- I'm-" you gasped, hands clawing at the material of the sheets underneath you. Your legs trembled violently, orgasm approaching and you felt your head spinning with how intense you were feeling.

"I've got you, baby."

His words had you creaming around his cock, the most dirtiest sound being torn from your throat as you climaxed. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your legs completely gave out from underneath you. Dick had to place a hand underneath your hips, holding you in position as you rode your high out.

"See how I take care of you."

He slid a second finger in, making you wince as he stretched your asshole open. You could tell what he was doing and as much you wanted to refuse him this, you knew he'd take it from you whether you were okay with it or not.

"Dick it's too much," you cried, letting out harsh breaths as his fingers and dick worked in your separate holes. "S'too much."

"This is what brats like you get," Dick groaned from above you, rolling his hips into yours. "If you had just been good, I would have gone easy on you. Now it's all about what I want and what I really want is to cum in this hole." He shoved his fingers in deep, chuckling at how you tensed at the feeling.

Even though you were stuck in a daze from the way Dick was drilling into you, you were still paralysed in fear at what he was about to do to you.

His fingers slid out of you with a quiet pop, making you feel slightly empty and gaping for him. His hands grabbed your ass cheeks, spreading them apart in the most unholy way.

"Be a good girl for me and listen to what I say."

"Okay," you said so obediently.

"That's a good girl, keep this up and I'll make sure to be good to you tomorrow."

You couldn't see him but you could tell Dick was grinning proudly down at you, probably staring at the mess between your cheeks like some possessed man. The worst part was you wanted to see what he looked like, wanted to admire how he looked at you. And you despised yourself for it, making you feel more disgusted at yourself than you had ever felt before him. You were becoming sick for him, being moulded into his personal sex slave the more he fucked you dumb on his cock.

When his cock slid out of your cunt, you whined for him, only to gasp suddenly as his tip poked at your other hole. While Dick was your first, and probably the only person you'd ever be with, you knew he was big. Having nothing to compare him to didn't make his size any less daunting. He was thick and long, a stretch every time he entered your cunt and you were honestly confused at how he thought he was ever going to fit into your ass.

But when Dick set his mind to something, there wasn't anything that was going to stop him. You knew that a little too well.

"Breathe for me."

You listened to him, trying to breath through your shakiness as you felt himself breeching your hole but it was a struggle. When his tip slipped in, you were all tense, fighting against the sensation to have him inside of you. With that he pulled out, a huff leaving his lips and you could sense he was getting agitated with your behaviour.

"When I say breathe, I mean fucking breathe. Relax for me or it's going to be more painful than pleasurable for you," his voice came out from a deep growl in his chest, letting you know how he serious he was being.

He had never been mean to you before that night, only ever showing you his caring side as he took care of you. You hated how he could change, sometimes wishing he would revert back to his soft side. But at least this way you could differentiate it as two different people. And with the way he fucked you most of the time, relentless and uncaring, you needed to differentiate him from the man you once saw as a protector and in ways a brother.

It was easier that way.

"It hurts," you cried, body trembling at his harsh words.

"I know," he was all soft again, hand rubbing your back to ease you up. Your stomach stirred at this, feeling yourself relax at his warm touch. "It'll be okay, just take steady breaths."

You did, taking deep inhale and exhales as you felt him press his tip against your hole again. He nudged himself in you further, pulling out and repeating until your walls eased to accommodate his size. Once he managed to push himself all the way in, he was groaning at the sensation, throbbing inside of you. While you were gasping, trying to catch your breath as you bit down on your tongue.

"Touch your pussy for me," Dick demanded, taking your hand that was gripping at the sheets. He placed it between your thighs, guiding it to your clit as he applied pressure there. "Trust me on this one."

And you did, fingers rubbing circles into your clit. While you took care of yourself there, Dick got lost in the feeling of his cock in the tightness of your new hole. He couldn't even hide how good it was making him feel, moaning as he thrusted himself inside of you.

Oh, you really wished to see him now.

His hands on your cheeks were used as leverage as he started to pick up the pace, becoming feral behind you. Your vision was so blurry from the tears and the haze he had you in, you really felt like you could pass out from it all.

"Dick," you let out inbetween the most lewdest noises, your fingers pressing harder into your clit. "I think- I-" You could barely speak in coherent sentences and Dick was probably clueless to what you were saying. But Dick could sense how he was making you feel, seeing how you were so close again.

"See how I'm taking such care of you," Dick grunted in a heavy breath, grip on your cheeks becoming bruising as he held onto you. "I can feel how good I make you feel, Princess."

You clenched down, hard. The word hitting some nerve that you really didn't like.

"Like it when I call you that," Dick hummed. "Princess."

"Please, no," you pleaded really wishing you wouldn't come to him calling you that. It was too messed up for you to fathom, you didn't want to think this was your sweet Dick, you needed to picture him as a different person. "Don't call me that. Not that."

"But I like the way your walls hold me when I do," Dick admitted, thrusting just a little bit harder. "Princess."

You lost it, clamping down on him in the midst of it all. Your fingers worked in a messy pace, hand becoming shaky as you continued to rub yourself. You could feel yourself dripping onto the bed at how intense your orgasm was and you felt deeply embarrassed with the moans that were being ripped from the back of your throat.

"Fuck that's it," Dick's voice was unrecognisable from behind you, a crumbling mess himself as your orgasm sent him over the edge. He hunched over you, abs pressed to your back as they tensed and untensed as he came inside of you. Your walls were practically milking him and you could feel each spurt of cum fill your hole.

He made sure to empty his balls completely, with a few sloppy thrusts and slipped out of you as he rolled to the side. You could feel his cum dripping out of you and down your thighs, making you feel like some sort of used toy. And you hated that feeling because you found yourself a teary eyed mess crawling over to him.

Usually his arms would be open and ready to take you in, holding you to his chest. But Dick was visibly shaking from the orgasm he just had, breathing still ragged as he looked up at the ceiling.

"Dick," you let out in a choked cry, grabbing his attention.

Dick's eyes widened at you, almost forgetting you were there in his fucked up state but as soon as he saw those wet eyes, he softened again. He grabbed you, pulling you onto his chest so he could hold you against him. His hand caressed your back, fingers tickling your subtle skin.

You nestled your face into his neck, hands grabbing at his biceps to cling onto him. A pathetic mess.

Without warning Dick's hand came full force against your ass cheek, making you sob even harder into him.

"Dick, please," you begged him, feeling your nails dig in as you felt more of his cum spill out of you.

You were sure he could feel it to, probably dripping onto his toned stomach underneath you.

"Can we please rest now?" You were all choked up, hoping he would take it easy on you.

"I'm sorry, Princess," he started saying, fingers now toying with the cum between your cheeks. "But if you had just played nice like I asked you then I would of taken it easy."

"I'm sorry."

You feel how smug he was against you, adoring how vulnerable he could make you with just his dick. There was no way he was going to let you up tonight with the way your voice was making his cock harden all over again.

His fingers pinched at your chin, pulling your face up to look at his. You couldn't ignore the deep contrast in your teary eyed expression to his cheesy smirk, it made you feel heated the way he liked dominating you like this.

"How about this? If you be a good for me for the rest of the night, I'll let you have more of a lie in tomorrow." His smile widened as he thought of something else, pinching your chin even harder. "And I'll even eat you out for breakfast."

God, he was sick.

But so were you as you nodded in agreement, taking all he would give you.

"See look at you learning so quickly." His lips were shoved against yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he spoke, "That's a good fuck doll."

#yandere dick grayson #yandere dick Grayson x reader #yandere nightwing #yandere nightwing x reader #dick Grayson x reader #dick grayson smut

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lainiespicewrites · 4 months

Text

The Christmas Cabin 2-Ice skating

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I genuinely intended to get this posted before Christmas buuuuuuttt I ended up with a horrible toothache ache and that was a whole thing. And it's real hard to feel sexy and write smut when your tooth is screaming at you.. and then the holidays.... ugh ...ANYWAY here is part 2 of the Christmas cabin! Happy New Year Y'all!!!

Warnings: Umm So much smut! Cursing, rough sex, daddy kink, oral. the usual suspects

Per usual I was to excited about posting this so I probably/definitely didn't proofread. so Yes I do own those mistakes. I'm sorry. I'm human okay!

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

After a perfectly relaxing night I had some of the best sleep in a long time. In the morning I actually woke up before Sy for once and snuck downstairs to make breakfast. I turned on some soft christmas music in the background and sang to myself in the kitchen while I cooked. Aika made her way downstairs at the smell of bacon. I couldn’t help but laugh when Sy stumbled down the stairs a minute behind her.

“Like father, like daughter.” I teased. He smiled and came over kissing my shoulder.

“Smells amazing baby, you didn’t have to cook.” He said.

“You always do it for me, go relax,” I smiled at him. He walked over and let Aika out the back door. Then he sat at the breakfast bar watching me. I looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” He smirked.

“Enjoying the show?” I asked. Trying to play coy.

“Only thing that would make it better is if you were naked.” He winked. I blushed and bit my lip trying to focus on flipping the pancakes. When I finished cooking we sat at the little table. Sy pulled me into his lap again. “I like having you close to me.” He mumbled as he nuzzled his nose against my neck, softly tickling me with his beard. I let out a little whimper trying to hold it together.

Things had sort of slowed down a bit in that department and I know it was driving him crazy. I had been teasing him a lot lately too. But he was never one to push for anything. He was always respectful of any boundaries, not that I was ever afraid he’d cross any. But it’d been a week or so since we’d been intimate. He was sick with a cold last week so we hadn’t stayed together much and when we settled into bed last night as much as I could tell he was trying nothing happened. It was torture for me too but I liked that I held all the cards. And it made it so much more fun, when we finally did get there.

“Sy, we’ve got things to do today. Don’t distract me.” I pouted, wiggling a little in his lap. He chuckled, squeezing my hip to hold me still.

“We’re on vacation baby, we ain’t got nothin to do.” I could feel his smirk against my neck as he started to leave a trail of wet kisses from my shoulder to my ear. He really knew what he was doing. And it almost worked.

“But Bear,” I turned in his lap so I was straddling him now. His hands went right back to my waist. I wrapped an arm around his shoulder and the other hand was absentmindedly drawing shapes on his bare chest. “We gotta decorate the tree. And you said something about an ice skating rink, that sounds so fun baby, can we go?” He let out a long sigh and shook his head. I could feel the deep laugh in his chest.

“You’re killing me Sugar, you know it?” I smiled, still scratching at his chest hair. “Yeah, I’ll take you skating baby girl.” He kissed me softly.

We finished breakfast and got dressed for the day. I annoyed him some more and put the christmas music on again when I drug the ornaments back out. I started singing again in the living room while I wrapped garland around the tree. I was lost in “o’holy night,” when I felt his arms around me again.

“Hey handsome,” I smiled. He rocked us back and forth for a moment, laying his head on my shoulder.

“You never told me you could sing like that baby, I could listen to you all day.” I blushed.

“It’s nothing, just enjoying the music.” I said.

“You sound like an angel, sugar, I could listen to christmas music all day if it was coming from you,” He kissed my cheek.

“You’re so sweet. I guess I didn’t realize you’d never heard me. ” I turned in his arms, pecking him on the lips softly. “We can work on the tree later. I’m really excited to go skating!” He slid his hands down and smacked my ass and I let out a squeal. Logan chuckled.

“Alright Darlin’, go get in the truck.”

After a short drive into town we parked outside of a local public park. The ice skating rink wasn’t all that busy today which was great, because I was sure to fall a few times. It’s been years since I've been ice skating. Logan immediately grabbed my hand when I hopped out of the truck. He kept me close the whole time we walked around the park. We finally found the place to rent our skates and settled on a bench outside the rink to put them on. “Okay, I’ve gotta warn ya, you remember when we were bowling, and you asked what I can’t do? This.. this is what I can’t do.” I tried really hard not to laugh. Because he looked so serious. Really I tried. But I laughed so hard I snorted. He pouted. “You making fun of me baby?” He asked.

“No, no it’s just,” I took a deep breath trying to calm down. “I didn’t actually expect you to be good at everything Sy. I’m probably not going to be good at this either.” I chuckled. He smiled a little, brushing his thumb across my cheek.

“Such a sweet girl,” he mumbled. “You always find the bright side to everything, don't ya?” I blushed.

“I’m a high school counselor Sy, it’s my job. At least to try.” I brushed my fingers up and down his big arm a few times. “You’re stalling,” I chuckled. “You can’t be that bad Bear.” His eyes lit up from the nickname. I don’t know when I started using it. But he accepted it without hesitation. I think he honestly liked it. During all of this back and forth I’d managed to get my skates on. “You can’t back out on me now, you promised.” He chuckled.

“To be fair, I promised to take you skating, I didn’t promise I would skate. My balance is horrible.”

“Yeah all those big muscles make you top heavy,” I winked. “Come on big guy, we’ll get you one of those plastic penguins to hold on to.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked. Finally putting on the skates.

“You makin fun of me?” he asked.

“Me? Never!” I chuckled.

I tried really hard. I did. Let the record show. That I attempted not to laugh. We walked out to the ice on wobbly feet. I had a pretty rough start myself. I had to hold on to the ledge until muscle memory kicked in. I was still a little shaky. But I was able to slowly skate along the edge of the rink. Sy… well, the funniest thing I’ve ever seen is a big, strong, 6’1, rugged, grizzly bear of a man, afraid to fall.

“I can’t do it,” He shook his head, he had a white knuckled grip on the ledge.

“You sure as hell can’t do it if you don’t let go, Logan,” I bit my lip to keep the smirk off my face.

“I’m gonna fall on my ass if I do.” He grumbled. I skated over to him and gently grabbed his arm. He looked panicked. My poor Bear. He was never gonna live this down.

“Come on baby, you can hold my hand, I got you.” I teased. He rolled his eyes.

“I hate you,” He he mumbled

“You do not,” I giggled as he grabbed my hand, slowly letting go of the wall.

“You know if I fall you’re going down with me.” He stated. I pushed off slowly. As tightly as he was holding my hand you’d think I was giving birth. I pulled Sy along with my trying to coach the coach. But it wasn’t going well.

“It’s a good thing you don’t like hockey.” I snorted when he stumbled again trying to push off from the wall. We almost made it around once. He leaned in close and growled in a low voice.

“You’re pushing your luck today little girl.” I bit my lip and smirked. I loved getting him all riled up like this. The thing is. Our relationship is much more than sexual. But in all honesty we can’t get enough of each other. I love pushing his buttons. I know that it sets something off in him. The night after our first date, he was so dominant and in control. And I loved that. I did everything I could to bring that out in him. Sometimes it meant being a brat. He’d never admit it. But he enjoyed that too.

“Ooh I’m so scared, you can’t even stand up straight without losing your balance cowboy.” I smirked.

He grabbed the wall with one hand and grabbed my waist with the other spinning me around to face him. I almost lost my balance but I held onto the ledge keeping me upright. He licked his lips looking me over.

“If I could, I'd bend you over right here for everyone to see, baby girl. You’ve been teasing me for days. You wanna keep pushing it? we won’t make it home before I fill up that pretty little pussy, do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” I let out a deep breath, keeping my eyes on his. Even off his game, he was still so intimidating and intense.

“I’ll give you a headstart back to the truck.” He smirked. Again, I tried. I couldn’t help myself. I started to skate back to the entrance but I stopped and looked back at him.

“Not like you’d be able to keep up anyway Daddy,” He stopped and stared at me, raising an eyebrow.

“Get your ass in the truck, now.” he growled. I bit my lip and nodded. I switched back to my regular boots and returned the skates. Logan was only a few steps behind me when I started to walk out to the truck. I was almost there when I felt grab my hip and spin me around. He backed me up against the passenger door cupping my jaw and tracing my lips with his thumb. “Give me one good reason not to bend you over the seat and take you right here.” He mused. I pouted and laid my hand on his chest.

“It’s cold Bear,” He chuckled and pressed his body closer to mine, completely pinning me to the truck. He slid his hand down to my neck resting his thumb and fingers on either side squeezing softly.

“You got yourself into this sugar, don’t play innocent now.” He finally leaned in and kissed me roughly, keeping his hand on my neck. I moaned into his mouth, letting him take control. Reaching between us I slid my hand over the growing bulge in his jeans and squeezed teasingly. He moaned, dropping his head to my shoulder.

“What’s stopping you?” I smirked. He was putty in my hands now. He kissed my neck softly letting his hands wander over my curves. He stopped suddenly and chuckled to himself.

“A public indecency charge, get in the truck baby girl, I’ll deal with you at home, this ain’t over,” he said and gave me one last kiss before he opened the door for me and smacked my ass as I turned to hop up into the truck.

The whole drive home he had one hand on the wheel and the other on my inner thigh. It was… well, it was never innocent, but it was less intense at first. He just rested it there letting me know he fully intended to keep me in check. It was so hot. I felt hot all over. With just one little touch. It sent sparks through me. That with one touch, one grip, he asserted his dominance. Maybe it was just because I let him. Or maybe it was because he was such a force to be reckoned with that something so simple demanded respect. Eventually, he started to move

his hand farther up my thigh, massaging it with his fingers and rubbing in slow circles with his thumb.

All I could think about was feeling those fingers inside me. His thumb pressed against my clit. I let out a pathetic whimper when his hand slid back down my thigh, his thumb brushing over my knee.

“Something wrong, sugar?” He looked over, that shit eating grin on his face, and caught my eye before looking back to the road.

“Your teasing,” I pouted. He raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

“Can dish it out but you can’t take it huh?” He smacked my thigh and smirked “fuckin love that sound.” He groaned and I let out another little whimper. “Bad girls don’t get treats darlin’ , you know that,” I pouted, laying my hand on top of his and rubbing the back of his hand with my thumb

“I’m sorry, Bear,” I said softly. He hummed turning his hand and tangling our fingers together. He brought my hand to his lips kissing my knuckles.

“Sorry ain’t gonna help you now baby doll, your fate is sealed.” I swallowed hard but I could feel my excitement begin to pool between my legs. When we got back to the cabin Logan barley had the truck in park before he jumped out. I just got my door open when he grabbed me by the hips and wrapped my legs around his waist pulling me out of the truck.

“Fuck,” I breathed out, holding onto his shoulders as he carried me inside. He kicked the door closed behind him and walked inside dropping me on the couch. He pushed his knee between my thighs and leaned down, crashing his lips to mine. I barely had time to catch my breath before he started pulling at my clothes. He made quick work undressing me. Tossing my sweater to the side kissing and sucking at my chest while he worked on getting my bra out of his way, and then pulling my leggings and panties off in one swift motion.

“Look at you,” he groaned, pulling away to admire me. I blushed instinctively trying to hide myself still not used to all of his love and attention. He grabbed my wrists pinning them to the arm of the couch with one hand while the other started to snake up my thigh. “Mm don’t hide darlin, Daddy wants to see his girl.” I bit my lip and nodded.

I kept my eyes on him the whole time. He used his knee to spread my legs wider and caressed the crease in my leg with his thumb. He was so close to where I needed him it was making my head spin. I whined softly grinding against nothing and he chuckled. “You’ve been a real fuckin brat today you know that?” He shook his head and tutted disapprovingly. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“I said I was sorry,” I pouted. He smiled softly

“I know you did, baby girl,” he sat up and pulled off his shirt. He leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to my lips. “And you really meant that huh?” He kissed my body. Stopping to pull my nipple between his teeth and teasing the other with his tongue. My back arched, moaning softly. As I nodded.

“I did, Daddy,” I breathed as he settled between my legs. He ghosted his thumb over my clit and smirked. He took his time kissing and biting at my inner thighs making sure to mark his territory. I was squirming beneath him dripping on to the couch. I bit my lip holding back a moan as he finally teased around my clit with his tongue. It took everything in me not to beg. It’s what exactly what he wanted. All at once he sat up on his knees and quickly flipped me on to my stomach pulling me up slightly so I was on my knees and I was on full display for him.

I heard the slap before I felt the sting. His hand came down hard on my ass.

“And I said it was too late for sorry baby.” I heard the smack again this time on the other cheek and squealed in surprise not expecting the second blow. “You think its fun to tease and make fun.” He growled in a low voice. He leaned over me his hot breath against my ear. He pressed his bulge against my aching pussy and I grinded against him trying to get some friction. He reached around and grabbed my neck holding me against his chest. “I’ll show you what Daddy can do sugar. And your gonna take it like a good girl. You understand me?” He pressed further into me and I nodded moaning. He grabbed my jaw turning my face to look at him. “Words baby.”

“Yes, Sir.” He growled deep in his chest and kissed me roughly.

“Thats my girl,” He groaned as he pulled away. I heard the metal clang of his belt and the sound of it dropping to the floor. He pushed his jeans and boxers down his thighs and immediately lined the head of his cock up with my entrance. He ran his head through the wetness there moaning softly to himself. Then without warning he fully shoved himself inside me. I let out a strangled moan struggling to get used to his size. Sy is in no sense of the word a small man. And as many times as we’ve had sex I still have trouble taking all of him. And with no prep before hand. I could feel him stretching me open for him.

He moved his hand around my neck to grip my hair making me arch for him. With the other on the back of the couch to steady himself, he started a relentless pace. Slamming into me and making me feel every inch of him. I was a mess underneath him moaning and crying out his name while he pounded into me. He shifted behind me pulling my hips up and thrusted back into me the new angle hitting my spot repeatedly. “Fuck Sy please,” I begged. I didn’t care anymore all I wanted was for him to make me cum for him. I need the release. I could feel it building quickly. The knot forming in my stomach. Despite his reckless pounding I knew he was still only getting started. Letting out soft little groans every time he sunk into me.

“You wanna cum baby?” He smirked, releasing his grip on my hair and delivering another sharp smack on my ass. I moaned loudly and nodded.

“Please, it feels so good!” I whined. Tears stinging my eyes now trying to wait for his permission.

“Brats don’t get treats Sugar,” He chuckled. He slowed his thrusts and pulled out of me completely. I whined, looking back at him pleadingly. He stood up and picked me up off the couch, I wrapped my legs around his waist and he pinned my back to the wall. He teased my entrance with his cock slowy pushing in again. I held onto him as he started to fuck me against the wall. I kissed him roughly moaning into his mouth as he picked up his pace again.

“I’m so sorry Bear,” I moaned starting to feel the fire build in my stomach again. God this is what I loved and hated about him. He was so fucking stubborn and incredibly thorough. He wasn’t gonna give this up. “I-I shouldn’t have teased you.” I stuttered trying to stay coherent. He smirked kissing my neck and grabbing my hips helping me meet his thrusts.

“Mhmm,” He groaned into my neck, “What else baby?” he teased. God I didn’t know if I could last I could already feel my legs shaking. I knew he could to.

“I won’t do it again. I-I promise, I love you baby, just please please let me cum.” I don’t know if I was making sense anymore. I would do anything for him at this point. He reached one hand between us rubbing my clit with his thumb and I screamed out his name letting my head hit the wall.

“That’s my good girl. I love hearing your desprate little moans. Cum for Daddy baby.” He kept his thumb on my clit while I barried my head into his neck moaning his name and letting my walls clamp around him. My whole body spasming while he holds me up. I let out a deep breath and he chuckled kissing me softly when I raised my head from his shoulder. He walked back to the couch and sat with me in his lap straddling him. Still fully hard inside me. He had incredible stamina but I knew he was desprate now too. I felt him twitch inside me begging for release. I braced myself on the back of the couch and started bouncing in his lap it wasn’t long before he was cursing under his breath. And grabbing my hips trying to take control again.

“Such a good girl, you look so good riding me.” he groaned smacking my ass as I countineud to ride his cock. I could feel another orgasm building. The thought of him filling me up making me feral. I moaned chasing my orgasm. I let him guide me on his cock as he started to get close himself. “Gonna fill this pussy up baby. Wanna see you dripping with my cum.” He moaned. Kissing me roughly and thrusting up into me he let out deep growl as he released inside me I continued to ride him as I reached my own high.

I collapsed against him in his lap. Laying my head on his shoulder as he wrapped his big arms around me holding me against his chest. After resting for a few minutes I broke the silence preparing soft kisses on his neck.

“Thank you for taking me ice skating baby,” I giggled. “Even though you hated it.” I felt him let out a deep chuckle from his chest.

“Any time baby girl. You know I’d do anything for ya, even if I suck at it.” He smirked. I snorted.

“You really almost had it bear.” I teased. He raised an eyebrow a mischievous look in his eye.

“You tryna go for another punishment?” He asked. I bit my lip.

“I don’t know if I could handle anymore.” I blushed.

“We’ll see about that,” He smiled and kissed me passionately.

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#captain syverson #henry cavill #fanfic writing #henry cavill smut #captain syverson x ofc #fanfiction #henry cavil x reader #captain syverson smut #august walker #august walker fanfiction

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polarisjisung · 6 months

Text

cherry flavoured

07—WORD ON THE STREET

SYNOPSIS | y/n, the campuses notorious heartbreaker, had never been one to settle down, running from the word commitment since the concept had first been introduced to her, but one smile and a little cherry coke seems to do just the trick when she runs into captain of the dance team, park jisung

PAIRING | dancer!jisung x fem!reader

you're on your way to the library to grab a seat while you wait for jisung when you walk past the dance studio, your favourite song blaring from the speakers, a tall figure moving to the beat with a large zip up black hoodie thrown over his body— you haven't seen much of him but you'd recognise him anywhere, jisung repeating the same series of moves over and over again, each time with increased fluidity

he's in a trance, too focused on critiquing himself to notice your presence on the other side of the glass door, which is why he doesn't seem to hear the loud knock you give before entering

his moves seem to falter when he notices your cherry red hair in the mirror and the male finds himself biting at his cheeks to suppress the smile threatening to spread across his lips

"I hope you don't mind me coming here, I tried to knock but I don't think you heard me" you offer him a smile, still not realising just how difficult you'd find it to talk to him in person, beautiful brown eyes staring down at you, without any alcohol in your system

"not at all, I was just finishing up anyways" his voice reverberates through the studio, you swear you can feel it in your bones, but you can tell jisung was still working on his routine

"go ahead and do your thing, I think it'd actually help me get an idea of my drawing style if I saw you dance, if you don't mind that is"

you stop yourself from rambling some sort of artistic jargon his way, looking up at him as you take a few steps closer with those eager eyes again, the ones jisung can't seem to say no to

"it's okay if you're not comfortable, I can go until you're done" you mistake his silence as discomfort but the blue haired dancer is quick to stop you

"no, I'm just not used to it is all"

"don't you preform though" you ask, a genuine tone creeping through your voice and jisung can't help but notice the way you show so much interest in what he has to say

"sorta, when I'm practising it's not really the same, it's part of the process instead of the final product" you nod understandingly, "I've never had anyone see that before"

"I'd love to see it, if you'd let me" you take a seat, watching as he loses himself in the music again, body swaying in ways you didn't even know were possible, his cheeks puffing every time he made a mistake, some you didn't even take notice of and all you could see was sheer passion radiating through his every movement

your hands seen to start to itch, and you can't help yourself from reaching for your sketchbook, soft strokes of your pencil laid onto the paper as your eyes flicker between jisung and the white of the page.

it doesn't take long for a rough sketch to form, small details creeping their way into the paper as you watch him move, concentrated on doing his best

it's when he spins that you can't keep your awe contained, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he twirls so effortlessly, you find yourself flipping the page, taking on a more challenging sketch of what you just saw, eyes glued to the page with the image of his grace clear in your mind

this time it's you who doesn't realise the pair of eyes on you, jisung's movements halted as he watches you rush to swipe different toned pencils across the page, afraid that the mental image would be cleared from your brain before you could get it down

its only when he takes a seat beside you, sipping on an open bottle of water with his messy hair falling over his eyes that you realise he'd stopped dancing

"you're good, like really good" you say, hoping your words don't betray you like they usually did when talking to him, coming out in a completely different order than you'd hope, a problem you'd never known until you ran into jisung

"as in you're crazy good, professional level good" you specify again and jisung let's his head drop, a small smile coming over his features, muttering out a small thank you

his eyes seem to land on the book in your lap next, widening at the precision of the two sketches you'd perfected in a matter of minutes

he wants to say something, anything to let you know just how talented he thinks you are, but he can't find the words to express what he thinks, the now decreased proximity between the two of you causing him to freeze entirely

after that, you only work on a few more sketches, from pre recorded dance practises that jisung had loaded up on his laptop, pointing out signature moves he wanted to incorporate into his project, but each time he did you found yourself lighting up at the passionate glint in his eye

"when did you start dancing"

jisung doesn't expect the question, halfway through one of the dance practise videos, pressing the pause button on his laptop

"1st grade I think" if he's honest jisung doesn't remember a time where he wasn't a dancer, it had been that long, "my teacher suggested it as a way to break out of my shell and it just became my thing"

you nod, it was something anyone with any sort of passion could resonate with, the same way you did with basketball— the start of finding your passions was special, you always thought it was the best way to get to know someone

"what about you, when did you start playing basketball?"

"I think I was about 5, I had this silly little crush on one of my brothers friends, he was on the school basketball team and so I practically begged my parents to let me join a basketball club," you smile fondly at the memory, bringing your knees forwards into your chest as you shuffle to face jisung, "I guess it grew from there"

jisung nods, tired eyes staring blankly your way, making the best attempt to actually process your words, although not too successfully

"I'm starving, lets grab dinner?" you rise to your feet, and jisung follows, the buzzing of the ac fading as you exit the dance studio

prev | masterlist | next

NOTES: ignoring the fact that the message on jisungs twitter is in fact a yn pov 💀 + I wanna post a Halloween chapter but that's not gonna be until a little later into the week so...

TAGLIST (open): @jenobubbles @justalildumpling @jising-jisang-jisung @nanawrlds @222brainrot @chichiuu @dinonuguaegi @ishireads @yyy90210 @hibernatinghamster @stqrrian @makiswrld @everywonuu @marizhua @luumiinaa @asteriaskingdom @jeongintwt @90s-belladonna @000rpheus @jammingjaem @yayloona @neozon3nha

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gabessquishytum · 2 months

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Morpheus "Dream" Endless used to be one of the top pole dancers in the city; he worked his way up from seedy clubs (where he had to supplement his income with private "dances" with less select clientele) to the most premier gentleman's establishments in the city where his extra "attention" was tipped and gifted at a proper worshipful rate.

Morpheus was able to use his earnings to get out of the business himself, and open a classy co-ed club that paid dancers well enough that if they didn’t want to work private engagements or outside of dancing, they didn’t have to.

In the beginning, Morpheus was able to convince his brick sh*thouse of a brother to bounce for the club, so the place got a reputation for taking care of it's staff with extreme aggressiveness - Ollie is always happy to help when he was in town; now that things have settled down he gets to make appreciative eyes at the dancers and maybe get friendly with any who are interested (what Ollie's cute!)

To make sure the club is seen as welcoming and open to its community, Dream hosts a pole dancing class series for all adult-aged people who pay to take the classes. All the club's dancers can be on the class teaching rotation, if they want, but the real draw is when Morpheus teaches the class series, 2 or 3 times a year. Word got out (book club, twitter, a TikTok or two) that when "Dream" teaches the class, it's even better than normal.

Hob is not a great dancer, generally, but he's always game to get out on the floor. His boyfriend got him pole dancing lessons for Valentine's Day/their anniversary. Now this didn't really seem, to Hob, like a gift to & for him, it seemed more like a passive aggressive "you need to be less vanilla in the bed room gift" (when to Hob's mind he would be less "vanilla" if he trusted the ass more ~ it's probably time to breakup).

So Hob's ex-boyfriend got him pole dancing lessons and Hob is never one to turn down a gift; he is able to get into the next series of classes as someone canceled just as he was calling in the see if there was space for him. His instructor is a Dream E. (Hob had a chuckle; one must make ones own fun.)

Dream does actually like teaching college kids and housewives how to dance on the pole - for them it's not some fraught thing about livelihoods and next meals, it is just fun.

The class got even better when a cute but terribly uncoordinated man joined the class. He was not good at pole dancing at all, but he had a great attitude, was flirty and so very cute! And the yoga pants that Hob wore to the class hugged a fantastic ass. Dream might have to give him some private lessons.

Akajshdhaha yes!!!!!! I love it. Clumsy Hob and dancer Dream!!!

Hob’s first revelation of the class is that the poles apparently spin around??? He's not sure how he never worked that out before, but he's a little less worried now. At least he has the advantage of body weight, to give him some momentum when he swings around...? That's what Dream says, anyway, but Hob thinks he's just trying to be nice.

Even so, he tries his best! He focuses in the warm-ups, tries so hard to memorise each movement, and even practices a bit at home (without the pole). Hob really wants to be good at it! He wants Dream to be impressed, he wants compliments, hell he just wants Dream to look at him... unfortunately it seems like Dream only looks when Hob is flat on his ass. Or stuck, wrapped around the pole in a very awkward position, needing to be retrieved by both Dream and the assistant teacher. So embarrassing.

Hob is just starting to think that maybe his ex has a point. When Dream smiles and sits down beside him, and tells him that its not all about getting everything right. It's about having fun. He thinks that Hob is way too hard on himself. He's so nice and encouraging to all the other students, maybe he should try being nice to himself?

Hob grins and helplessly kisses Dream on the cheek, before jumping up to give it another try. He's going to have fun! And yes, he can feel Dream’s eyes on his ass as he walks away.

Several months later, Hob sees the pole in Dream’s bedroom for the first time... and gets his first private show. Dream is still a flawless dancer, and he's an even better lover. And while it's probably best not to mention Hob’s dancing, he certainly knows how to use his body to make Dream cum again and again. Poor Ollie has to put on his noise cancelling headphones.

It's ironic that Hob ended up being Dream’s best student. But there are so skills, you really just can't teach. Hehe.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft

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oklotea · 7 months

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MY FAVORITE TINTIN SIDE CHARACTERS

ARRGRGWHDHEH I'M VERY VERY PROUD OF THIS I'M NGL!!!!!!! I LOVE THE WAY I COLORED THE CHARACTERS, I LOVE THE POSES I DREW THEM IN, I MADE SOME DECENT COMPOSITION IN THIS ONE!!!! HATE THE EDITING I DID I FUCKING SUCK AT EDITING

Anyway, I'm going to ramble about these guys and you can't leave until I'm done ok? Ok.

First of all, MY BOY MY SON MY PERSONAL LITTLE DEMON, ABDULLAH!!!!!!! he is very endearing to me!!! But I really do wish we could've seen more of him!!!! He looks mischievous enough to sneak on adventures along with the marlinspike crew himself for shits and giggles!!!!! HIM AND HIS DAD'S DYNAMIC IN LAND OF BLACK GOLD IS MY FAVORITE IT MAKES ME SO GIDDY AND HAPPY. like no matter how obnoxious and annoying Abdullah's pranks can become, his dad will forever love him unconditionally. MY FAVORITE DYNAMIC. I MISS THEM SO MUCH.

A little note, even though a lot of poc representation in tintin is pretty influenced by the stereotypes of the time, and a bit of orientalism, tintin and the land of black gold is also the first time in my childhood where the words "assalamualaikum" Was muttered in any piece of animated media. It definitely wasn't perfect, but that was important to me as a Muslim child. Maybe that's why Abdullah and his dad hold a special place in my heart!

Next up we've got ARREGEHFHFHHGHJ!!!!!!! CHANG!!!!!!! MY FRIEND FROM SCHOOL WHO HELPED END A CRIME RING IN SHANGHAI!!!!!!! I adore him and his personality so much!!!! HE WAS ONE OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS AS A KID AND HE STILL IS TODAY WHEN I REWATCH BLUE LOTUS!!!!!!!! The way that the moment he was saved by Tintin in that flood he pledged his undying loyalty to Tintin will never not be sweet to me. HE IS SO TALENTED AND CUNNING, HE SAVED TINTIN FROM CERTAIN DOOM MULTIPLE TIMES IN THE LITTLE TIME THEY'VE SPENT TOGETHER, AND IN TINTIN IN TIBET, TINTIN SAVES HIM ONCE AGAIN (Tintin in tibet is also a very memorable and special episode for me) AND JUST-- ARGEHDBEHF I CAN CONTINUE ON AND ON ABOUT HOW CHANG SHOULDVE BEEN INCLUDED IN MORE ADVENTURES!!!!! actually Tintin has TONS OF CHARACTERS who should have been given more important roles in a lot of different stories!!!! Idk maybe that's just a wish that will never be fulfilled.... Still I can dream!

And last but DEFINITELY not least... THE MILANESE NIGHTINGALE HERSELF, BIANCA CASTAFIORE!!!!!!!!!!!! AGHHDHEHFHJDHV MY GORGEOUS MY BEAUTIFUL MY LOVE MY EVERYTHING I MISS HER SO MUCH

SHE WAS A HIGHLIGHT FOR ME!!!!!! AND SHE IS VERY UNDERRATED!!!! I love seeing how much she treasures her friends, how she's so dramatic about everything, how she has such an unapologetically loud and large presence and personality everywhere she goes, how she is genuinely passionate about her singing and her art, how she clearly knows her worth and won't settle for less from anyone.

Every time she was on screen she always made me feel very happy and warm inside, also I really like her voice!!!!!

AND HER DESIGN!!!!! ARRRGHWHFHH HER DESIGN!!!

I'm ngl, she was the hardest for me to draw. But at the end I'm quite satisfied with the results!!!!

She would be such an amazing friend. SHE'S ALWAYS BRINGING GIFTS AND BEING CONSIDERATE WITH HER FRIENDS, AND SHE WOULD NEVER HIDE JUST HOW MUCH PEOPLE MEAN TO HER

PLEEEEASEEEE CASTAFIORE I MISS YOU SO MUCH GIRLFRIEND COME BACK TO ME-

Anyway, the last picture is how I'd imagine Chang and Castafiore's first meeting would go. She as always, acts as sweet and polite and extra af as she always does, let's Chang know that Tintin's talked a lot about him! And then she would bring out some biscuits and pastries she bought as a gift for everyone, and then she and Chang would sit together while eating, and they get along really well, CHANG HAS A WICKED SENSE OF HUMOR THAT CASTAFIORE CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF, (haddock would be completely dumbfounded with how good at talking to Castafiore Chang is, and how anyone could talk to her for so long) but little did haddock know, in their conversations, Castafiore does a whole lot more listening than speaking, especially when Chang starts to tell his back story, and all the things that have happened to him and Tintin. After Chang ends his story, he looks up at her after a while of being lost in his story, and mascara is dripping down her face silently, her mouth is agape, and for a few moments couldn't say anything.

Suddenly she burst out loud, pulled Chang into a hug, and sobs after listening to the horrors this sweet kid has gone through.

In over a few hours she seems to have grown a strong attachment to this kid, she'll probably send a package filled with gifts a few months later, along with a long letter talking about what she's been up to and her wishes that Chang will succeed with anything he's currently busy with, and that he shall take care of himself well.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the small character appreciation I was able to share for some obscure/underrated characters! And that they will occupy your mind just for a little while. I love these three so much, tintin shaped me as a person, tintin made my childhood, I hope you have a great day.

Click for better quality!!!!!!

#bianca castafiore #chang chong chen #tchang tchong tchen #chang #abdullah #prince abdullah #the adventures of tintin #adventures of tintin #tea art 🎨#oklo makes a post

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delightfully-deranged-dagur · 3 months

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TD OCs Redesigns part 2! At long last!

Lulu

This Clown didn't change much in concept but she definitely changed in design.

Previously I already made a more casual look for her when she's not performing, and that became the basis for her redesign. Her old outfit will be repurposed for her performance outfit. Still need to draw that.

Besides that she got a new hairstyle! And a hint of that Pinkie Pie inspired front swirl.

Madileighn

The Influencer had a massive overhaul from her 1st look to her 2nd. The first look I've actually recycled for her mom's design. Who I'll post here eventually.

Anyway Madi got a warmer yellow tone, some bangs and a shorter coat. She's still looking fabulous!

Marlo

The Prankster kept a lot of his original elements. Purple + green colors, curly black hair and a bomb on his clothes.

The hoodie became a jacket. The hair got more sharper in the back and the bomb was moved to his shirt. His shorts and nose kept changing but I finally settled on something I like.

Olive

The Shy Doormat stayed very consistent in design. The clothes just became baggier, the nose changed shape and her colors more muted.

But she still hates the spotlight and is still a lesbian disaster.

Parvati

Immediately, the Mythology Buff became more tomboy-ish. Her features became a lot more sharper and a bit more androgynous.

Her outfit stayed the mostly it just evolved. Less cluttered details. A more eye pleasing color pallette. All changes for the better.

Phoenix

He's a menace this one. Definitely the one that gave me the most trouble redesigning.

Like Parvati I removed a lot of unnecessary details and gave him a more eye pleasing pallette. His skintone got a cooler undertone to better see the line work.

And the big change. His hair. Less knock-off Hobie Brown and more his own person. I'm very thankful for my friend Howai for giving me the idea for locs.

Rachel

Ah Rachel. The Rodeo Star. Who actually started out as a pathetic Heather Wannabe. She became something way different. Now an antagonist more in line with Bowie.

Her design barely changed from V2 to V3. Just changed her bangs direction and gave her abs. Why mess with perfection?

I just realized Rachel gained boots and lost her sandals, while Madileighn lost her boots and gained sandals. Huh. Fun trade-off.

Raheem

The Oblivious Hearth Throb is still as good looking as ever.

Now he gets to take his hair down and really make people swoon. Not that he realizes.

I basically made his outfit more warm weather oriented then cold. Also, he went from green to gray. A more neutral color helps him stand out from the cast.

Sasha

Now if Rachel isn't the one with the least changes. Then it's Sasha. I struck gold with the first design. And she barely changed after that.

The 2 big differences are her hair, from flowing waves to bantu knots. And her concept.

Originally she was a singer going on TD to promote herself. Now she's a nepo-baby who's uncle got her onto the show. She doesn't realize her well connected, rich girl experiences aren't universal.

Tony

Last and certainly never least. The Short-Tempered Greaser.

Tony's outfit barely changed. Just some color adjustments. But his body definitely changed. The 2nd time I designed as someone short and not just shrunk someone down.

The big difference this time is his hair. I love the pompadour+swirl but I wanted something different to differentiate him from how i draw Johnny Spirit. So he got a quaff. I think that's the right word.

Anyway lastly his pose makes his personality more clear. He's cranky and impatient.

Thank you for joining me and listen to me ramble about these guys.

I'm hoping to get the first chapter of my OC season out sometime this year. So stay tuned.

#my art #total drama #total drama island #total drama action : take 2 #total drama oc #oc art #oc lulu #oc Madileighn #oc marlo #oc olive #oc parvati #oc phoenix #oc rachel #oc raheem #oc sasha #oc tony

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jae-birde · 6 months

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This was supposed to come out weeks ago, but I got stuck in the editing process and then I got sick… so yeah, this took a while. But now it's done!

This is also cross-posted on AO3 here.

This fic is dedicated to both @somerandomdudelmao and @tapakah0, both of whom are incredibly talented and huge inspirations to me, both in terms of writing and in drawing, so thank you both so much.

Anyways, spoilers up to chapter 16 of Cass' Apocalypse series.

Donnie was standing in the middle of a crowd.

It was safe to say that he was very much not used to being surrounded by such crowds, even in the Resistance. He was never the one that everyone would crowd around; that was always Leo or Raph or Mikey or April or… literally anyone but him. Even considering that, and even thinking about the few times people did crowd around him, there was something very different about this one. Something off.

He looked around. He could tell that they were talking — their mouths were moving, and sound was certainly coming out — but it was indecipherable, and none of the people had a distinct form, which was quickly beginning to become very unnerving.

Donnie looked around, and a tug in his gut had him scanning the crowd for his brothers.

"Mikey?" He called out. "Leo! Where the fuck are… you…?" Donnie trailed off, frozen at the sight of the pink veins covering his hand. His hands, actually.

"What…?" His mind was suddenly thrust backwards — or was it forwards? — in time, remembering when he'd first seen signs of the infection.

The infection.

"No! No, no, no, no, no…" Donnie couldn't help the desperation in his tone, his horror growing as he watched and felt the infection creeping through his veins, killing him all over again. Only this time, it didn't give him the mercy of time, the pain instead seeming to flood his senses. He sucked in a sharp breath and felt it get caught in his throat. He felt the way the virus weakened him, sapping his strength like poison as it happened all over again. He closed his eyes at the wave of pain that crashed over him, a sick feeling settling in his gut.

His legs gave away, and he dropped to the ground with a groan, one hand out to catch his fall, the other wrapping around his stomach as a pain shot through it. The pink was all over him now; he could see it. It seeped into the ground around him, trying to pull him down with it. He opened his eyes, looking up at the crowd desperately.

"Please— I—" Donnie stopped, staring at the crowd around him.

They all stared back.

"Why are you…?" He trailed off, looking around, hoping to see any sign of someone moving to help.

No one moved.

"…Just looking…?"

The crowd hovered around him, indistinct forms still murmuring incomprehensible words. The pink of the virus encompassed him, and he felt himself growing weaker with every second, pain wracking his body as he sunk lower onto the ground.

"You're already dead," one voice said, seemingly coming from everywhere at once.

They're the first words he heard that weren't his own since he found himself in this crowd, and they made it feel as if the world was crashing down on him.

"What's the point?" Another asked, voice void of emotion as it echoed around him.

Donnie stared at them, uncomprehending. "But… I'm not?" He tried to push himself up, but his arms trembled and gave out under him, and he collapsed again, strength weakening by the second.

"Not… yet… Donnie closed his eyes, tears stinging at them as he lay there, forcing himself to take breath after shuddery breath.

This poison had practically consumed him. It had sapped away his strength until he could barely move.

And he didn't particularly want to.

The crowd's murmuring had silenced, but he could still feel their presence around him, their forms towering over his prone one.

Donnie couldn't open his eyes. He felt a tear track down his face as he lay still, letting the pain, cold, and exhaustion wash over him and sweep him away. He couldn't do anything now. He was overwhelmed by the pain and misery caused by the infection. There wasn't anything that could be done at this point anyway; he was too far gone. There was an insistent tug around him, pulling him into the ground.

You are dead after all, a voice whispered in Donnie's mind. It's just bringing you to where you belong.

And Donnie didn't have the strength to fight it anymore.

But then he didn't have to.

He was being carried. It was a familiar enough feeling to him, his brothers and sister all having done it at one point or another for him, but this hold was different. Familiar in a way that he was clinging to, even before he realized who it was. And then, all at once, Donnie recognized who it was.

Leo.

Donnie nearly cried at feeling his brother's arms holding him again; he would recognize his twin's hold anywhere. He felt safe in his brother's arms in a way he hadn't felt for a long time. He knew that Leo would keep him safe. Donnie felt himself go slack in Leo's arms before he felt a gentle weight on his head and cracked his eyes open.

And there was Mikey, floating just in front of him, dark hair obscuring most of his face, but his little brother's sad smile was visible.

There was a glow around Mikey, a pale orange that was nearly white, that seemed to emanate from him in an aura. There was soothing warmth pouring from Mikey's touch that chased away the freezing cold of the Krang infection, and Donnie felt himself leaning into the sweet, blessed relief, despite the memories poking at his consciousness, whispering in his ear that it wouldn't help. Mikey had tried everything he could before; all it ever did was leave Mikey more tired than before. It wasn't worth it. Donnie didn't want his brother to feel that not when he'd just found him again.

"You know… that won't really help…?" Donnie trailed off despite himself, lost in an odd mix of pain and relief as the warmth of Mikey's mystic powers seeped through his veins, chasing away the cold of the virus in a way that Donnie had never felt before.

"Hm… yes." Leo mused, and Donnie felt a stab to his heart from hearing his brother's voice for the first time since he died.

Mikey's hand glowed brighter, and Donnie felt the mystics wash over his body. The pink that had nearly covered his hand turned white, and Donnie reached for his brother, desperate to hold onto Mikey's hand while he still could.

"Yes," Mikey continued, taking Donnie's hand in his own and squeezing tightly, his other hand gently holding the side of Donnie's face.

Donnie felt Leo gently rub his shell, and he relaxed further into his brother's hold, smiling up at Mikey, tears in his eyes.

"We do," Mikey concluded, the glow from his hands growing brighter before Donnie was left blinking from the brightness of it.

And suddenly, he wasn't looking at his brother anymore. He wasn't being carried.

His eyes shot fully open, and he sat up, eyes darting around his desk as he remembered where — and when — he was. Coffee mugs were grouped to the side, and paper notes were scattered across the desk's surface. Glowing purple screens were the only thing illuminating the otherwise empty room.

Donnie straightened up, rubbing at his eyes before dragging his hand down his face as his posture slumped. Mikey and Leo were still out there.

He looked up at his screens.

He just needed to find them.

Besides. Death was fixable after all.

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