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#some of these films are probably not easy to watch too :')
sibelin · 1 year
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you've probably answered this before, but do you have any horror/thriller movie recommendations? :D
oh hi static ♥
i think i've done a list before but it was a long time ago! i usually recommend the classics (alien/the thing/candyman/hellraiser/halloween etc etc) but i'm pretty sure you already know about them! i tried to make a more original list (with old and recent films) but i'm not sure they're all good recs 😅 here you go :
Eyes Without a Face - it's an old horror classic but it holds up! the imagery is very haunting.
Black Christmas - this one genuinely scared me. it's uncomfortable in the same way a Texas Chainsaw Massacre could be uncomfortable. it has interesting themes and it's also one of the first slashers!
Near Dark - not sure about the end but it's a good 80s vampire film.
Jacob's Ladder - this one is a disturbing psychological horror with absolutely horrific visuals. not for everybody but it sure made an impact on me when i was younger :')
Nightbreed - listen it's not that good but it's fun! lots of clive barkery monsters and a few cool ideas.
A Tale of Two Sisters - it's a good, heartbreaking ghost story.
Ready or not - more on the comedy side, good fun!
Nope - It's spectacular and smart, i really recommend it :)
as for thrillers:
it's a classic but i have to throw The night of the hunter in there. one of my favourite film.
Take Shelter - it's more of a slow psychological thriller, it has good acting and interesting ways to approach its main character.
Green room - okay so this one is really hard to watch. the gore is gnarly and brutal. but it's original and intense.
anything Satoshi Kon! i'd go for Perfect Blue first but it's a very intense film. i'd advice to check trigger warnings beforehand for this one.
Nightcrawler - very interesting subject matter imo!
Parasite but honestly anything Bong Joon-Ho, he's a master in the thriller genre.
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cutielatias · 2 years
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1-Nara (the song of cold) by E.S Posthumus
2-moving mountains by two steps from hell
3-Protectors of the earth (no choir) by two steps from hell (i prefer the no choir version but both versions are cool)
4-united we stand, divided we fall(final version) by two steps from hell
5-unstoppable by E.S Posthumus
6-selisona pi by E.S Posthumus
7-vishnu by E.S Posthumus
8-indra by E.S Posthumus
9-arise by E.S Posthumus
10-durga by E.S Posthumus
11-ushas by E.S Posthumus
12-ebla by E.S Posthumus
13-You may call me father (bayonetta ost)
14-Septimus (stardust soundtrack)
15-Oraanu pi by E.S Posthumus
16-mosane pi by E.S Posthumus
17-stand up, be strong (bleach ost)
18-opening (dragon hunters soundtrack)
19-ragnarök (god of war: ragnarök soundtrack)
#I gonna post this here too cuz i always like to share/talk about music#Here's a list of some epic instrumental songs💥🔥 that i like/listen!#This are just some of the epic songs that I know#if I had put it all the instrumental epic songs from sonic games/games and animation movies that I listen to#this list would be way bigger😅#But i decided to put the ones that i find a little more different/*unknown*(unknown in quotes😂 some of these are very famous)#The ones that i like/listen the most are the 1-2-5 (probably cuz this ones have more easy names😅)#(The other ones name are too much complicated i can't remember sometimes💦)#Oh! And i also like/listen a lot the 17-18 and (the newest one) the 19#But all are cool!! 💥🔥 (I really should listen to the others later)#14(Septimus) who likes/listen to this one a lot is ana😆#I remember watching this movie when i was a kid (this movie was actually a little naughty for a kid to watch😑💦)#but i remember watching when i was little so kinda gives a little nostalgic#No dia que a gente reassistiu esse filme a 5°série bateu hahaha😂😂😂#Tem um momento no filme que o mano tá com a (antiga) mina que ele gostava e ele tá falando todas as coisas que ele faria por ela#E uma hora ele diz que iria até tal lugar para pegar um diamante do tamanho de seu pulso#Mas o jeito que falô fico parecendo que disse diamante do tamanho de seu cú#Nossa a gente riu pra caramba com isso😂😂 (já escrevendo aqui eu já tô rindo!!😂)não dá não😂HAHAHA#Até a minha mãe riu😂😂ai ai esse dia foi engraçado#Kinda sad but i feel that nowadays movies/animations don't have much epic instrumental songs anymore#Kinda suck💧cuz i miss the feeling of watching a scene with an epic song#(Also miss finding new epic instrumental songs)#At least video games still have⭐#Hmm i already have/know a lot of epic instrumental songs 👉👈still I WANT MORE (and its sad cuz i feel that nowadays has too little)#But who knows in the future#music
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boringkate · 1 year
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Here’s a Mega folder with a handful of junk for you trans girls to watch
https://mega.nz/folder/g14TWJaL#u5hER7DzOJbdJbAR0mhtBQ
///TGIRL FEATURE FILMS (alphabetical order)
Adam (2019) it's about a cis boy who's mistaken for a trans boy and rolls with it. Big cast of trans characters including a tgirl played by a tgirl who everyone wants to fuck. Directed by a trans dude. Highly legit. If you're still hung up on pre release speculation based on the novel then you're the most annoying person alive.
Assassination Nation (2018) The first half is Euphoria and the second half is The Purge. ONE OF THE BEST TGIRL MOVIES OF ALL TIME.
Bit (2019) Lesbian girl power vampire movie where the main character is a tgirl played by a tgirl. It's solid. I find it frustrating that they hint at her being trans without explicitly acknowledging it (and she's passing as fuck, so it's easy to not notice), but I know that's what some of y'all want.
Boy Meets Girl (2014) Cis dude for trans girl love story. Pretty normie, but also you see her fully naked (gock out) at the end.
Funeral Parade of Roses (1969) Extremely 60s. Cool as hell.
Lady Daddy (2010) South Korean romcom about a trans girl played by a cis girl who tries unconvincingly to back pass when she finds out she has a kid. Very cute.
Lingua Franca (2019) written directed and starring Isabel Sandoval. An undocumented trans woman immigrant in New York deals with a cis dude partner being a cis dude. Which is also the plot of The Garden Left Behind (2019).
Myra Breckinridge (1970) Raquel Welch is a trans woman and her goal is the destruction of the last vestigial traces of traditional manhood! It's Fight Club! It's Hackers! It's divisive, but it's probably my favorite movie!
So Pretty (2019) Literally the first scripted feature length (non pornographic tho it does have cock) film to feature two trans women played by trans women kissing eachother.
Something Must Break (2014) THE OTHER BEST TGIRL MOVIE OF ALL TIME. Drugs. Crimes. Gock. Slow motion pissing. Slow motion park Fucking. Genuinely the most beautiful sex scene I've seen in any movie. And she makes it to the end still alive and more sure of herself and at peace than ever.
Tangerine (2015) Groundbreaking and also a bunch of the secondary characters are real life pornstars (which I think is neat).
The Garden Left Behind (2019) This and Lingua Franca (2019) really are tgirl twin films, but (like with Antz and A Bug’s Life) the vibes and details make them distinct (I assume tho tbh I’ve never watched Antz).
///TGIRL DOCUMENTARIES
Bambi (2013) about a trans girl showgirl in 50s/60s paris
Paris is Burning (1990) basically it's Pose.
Shinjuku Boys (1995) Trans dudes working in a tokyo club that caters to tboy chasing cis girls. There's at least one trans girl in the mix too.
///FORCED FEMINIZATION
A Reflection of Fear (1972) They raised her as a girl and it made her do murders! It drags in places, but the girl in it is so ethereal and it has ageplay vibes and daddy issues.
Memory Run (1996) A very fun direct to video scifi action flick about fighting fascism by blowing up your pre transition self with a rocket launcher + it's based on a novel written by a trans woman.
She-Man A Story of Fixation (1967) Notable for being such a cliche sissy maid fantasy while also coming out so early + it was Bob Clark's first film lol.
Sleepaway Camp (1983) A more famous version of Reflection of Fear.
Surrender Dorothy (1998) A MUST WATCH. I personally bought a physical DVD and made an ISO of it for you because I was unsatisfied with the quality of the only copy that seemed to exist online. I ALSO PERSONALLY CREATED MY OWN SUBTITLES FOR IT BECAUSE EVEN THE DVD DIDN’T INCLUDE ANY! WHICH TOOK HOURS TO DO!
The Skin I Live In (2011) A rapist is kidnapped and turned into a girl by a mournful vengeful plastic surgeon. Which was also the plot of Victim (2010). I never really vibe with Pedro Almodóvar movies, but I recognize this is the preeminent forced feminization film.
///SHORT FILMS
Gender Troublemakers (1993) Some 90s Toronto trans girls fucking and discoursing. Explicit tgirl on tgirl action. This is the only one on the list that I haven’t actually watched yet. I’m hyped to watch it tho. Seems mindblowingly rad af.
Happy Birthday Marsha (2018) It's about Marsha P. Johnson.
I don't Know (1971) I'm obsessed with the trans girl in this one she just keeps popping up in all kinds of early 70s stuff. Directed by Penelope Spheeris (who is the sister of the cis gf in it).
Mesmeralda (2019) AN ABSOLUTE BANGER HOLY FUCK THE VIBES ARE OFF THE CHARTS! PLS WATCH THIS! I refuse to apologize for it being 15GB or to re encode it. It’s worth every byte and I want to ensure that this full quality copy doesn’t disappear off of the internet.
Pat Rocco's Changes (1970) It's that same girl again!
Queens at Heart (1967) I can't get over that hairdresser girl thinking she's back passing. Most adorably weak boymode ever.
Shangri-La (2021) Another Isabel Sandoval joint.
The Yellow Wallpaper (2021) Freshly post op girl with a supportive boyfriend goes unhinged.
Undress Me (2012) Jana Bringlöv Ekspong did a few short films. Give janabringlove a google after watching this.
///JUST LIKE BTW
Some of these would be tough to find elsewhere, but most of the movies are also watchable on fmovies and/or can be torrented in higher quality.
After you've worked your way through the folder then just start doing Google searches for trans films. Look at IMDB keywords and letterboxd lists. There are so many more out there. These are just like my personal picks.
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aemondsbabe · 5 months
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Stick it Out to the End
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summary: michael is desperate to get into oxford's prestigious bullingdon club; unfortunately for him, they command him to do the impossible to gain admittance
pairing: michael gavey x bimbo!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, bimbo reader, mentions of hazing but nothing horrible/extreme, virgin!michael, breast/nipple play, praise kink, piv sex, protected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), oral sex (f receiving), consensual filming, dirty talk, cursing, what i hope is saltburn-esque humor, mild size kink, mild angst but happy ending, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 12.7k
a/n: images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only & are not used to describe the reader! she's back and she's long as hell but what else is new!!! this is my first time writing bimbo!reader and while she wasn't super bimbo-y, it was fun getting my feet wet! hope y'all enjoy!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🩷 my masterlist
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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Michael
Michael couldn’t help but feel his heart speed up in his chest as he wound through the quiet corridors clutching tightly to the cryptic note he’d found stuffed in his pigeonhole that morning – just a page torn out of a standard notebook covered hastily written red ink; wholly un-intimidating as far as cryptic notes were concerned. Really, he was surprised to see they didn’t put more effort in; with as secretive and imperious as this little club was, he had been expecting some sort of extravagant stationary, perhaps even some gold embossing. 
Coming to a stop in front of an unassuming janitor’s closet door, he narrows his eyes behind the gold frames of his glasses, staring at the door with a nearly accusatorial expression. Michael swivels his head once more, his brows furrowed as he checks and re-checks every door in the vicinity before turning back to the one he stands before. Scoffing, he unfolds the note with a little irritated sigh and quickly scans the page again, mouthing the words to himself for the millionth time that day. 
The riddle had been easy enough to figure out, some trivial little lines about dead men walking, the mob, finding God, and looking to one’s heart pointed right toward some hush hush basement beneath the Merton College Chapel. That, and it didn’t take a genius to see that each line consisted of a specific number of words, pointing him right to the very door he stood in front of now – 129. 
Fucking amateurs, he’d thought after cracking the code in under half an hour. But that was earlier. And now, as he stares at the stupid dull grey janitor’s closet door in front of him, Michael can’t stop the little tendrils of doubt from creeping into his periphery. He’s sure this is the right door and positive this is the right place and yet… janitor’s closet. He checks his watch, 11:50 PM on the dot, and glances up and down the dark, shadowy corridors once more, half expecting one of the twatty rich assholes to jump out and start snickering at him, making fun of him for thinking that a no one like him would’ve ever received an invite to a club like this. 
Shaking his head, he reaches for the doorknob anyway, he’s come this far so he may as well. He freezes a little when it actually turns and his blue eyes go wide when he pushes the door open, shivering a little as he’s met with a wall of cool, dank air – eau de basement, just as he’d expected. A little actually impressed sigh passes his lips when he pokes his head in, an apprehensive smile blooming on his lips as he takes in the eerie red lighting spilling up the stairwell from the God-knows-what downstairs. 
He winces as the door squeaks when he tugs it open but he doesn’t stop, emboldened now as he knows he had been right once again. He takes the stairs quickly, probably too quickly given that he hasn’t a fucking clue what or who could be down here, but before he can dwell on the idea too much, he’s faced with another corridor. This one, unlike the ones upstairs, is narrow and brick-lined and leads in only one direction, straight to another closed door at the other end. 
Michael squints against the bright red light coming from a spotlight that had been haphazardly set up on the stone floor and walks down the hallway, his steps speeding up as he hears the janitor’s door above him open and close once more. His breath hitches a little as he opens the second door and quickly steps inside, like ripping off a band-aid. 
He freezes once more when a strong hand latches onto his shoulder and quickly jerks him further into the room, making him yelp as he stumbles, trying to keep pace with whoever the hell is leading him. 
“What the –”
Before he has time to so much as blink, his back thuds against a brick wall and finally he looks up, the vicious scowl he’d prepared morphing into a look of disturbed confusion as he eyes a row of other students, about fifteen and all men from the looks of it, dawned with black –
Oh, Christ, are those ski masks? He thinks as he eyes them up and down, How fucking banal… at least it’s not hooded cloaks. He nearly rolls his eyes as he scans the rest of the room, taking in the dim lighting interspersed with blues and greens from more of those stupid party boy spotlights. Glancing to the side, he sees another boy in his year, some guy he only knew from a few classes and passing glances in the hallways, but even still he’s comforted to not be alone down here, no matter how cliché this whole affair seemed. 
His blue eyes snap forward as the door, the only door, to the room is opened once more and some other poor sap is hastily dragged across the room, only to be smacked on the wall to his left. Again, it’s just some other boy Michael knows from classes, though he doesn’t know why he expects any different – it’s not as if he knows many people outside of the forced proximity of a lecture hall. Which was really his only reason for putting up with this bother, for seeking it out in the first place; a quick flash of him placing a tightly folded up sticky note with his name and pigeonhole number in an old, beaten up copy of King Lear in the library played in his mind – the price he seemed to pay for loneliness. 
Distantly, the bells of the chapel began to chime, signaling the hour. Once, twice, and eventually twelve times – midnight. Time to start the show, Michael surmises. 
“Welcome, initiates,” one of the hooded men says in a tone that makes Michael glare judgmentally, his voice pitched down like some idiotic knock-off Darth Vader. He steps forward from the row they stand in and holds his arms out open at his sides, “Consider this your first foray into the Bullingdon Club.”
Again, he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold in a scoff. This was all just so… juvenile? He was beginning to sincerely doubt that this was the über clandestine club that granted its members all sorts of connections to various businesses, societies, and insider information that even the richest of the rich couldn’t buy. 
Unfortunately, his face seemed to betray more of his emotions than he intended and the masked boy steps forward once more, his dark eyes zeroing in on Michael. 
“You,” he says gruffly, pointing a finger in his direction, “Something you wanna say, initiate?”
Out of habit, he pushed his glasses up on his nose before he spoke, perhaps foolishly bold given the situation. 
“Doesn’t this all seem a bit much for three people?” He scoffs, shaking his head slightly, “I mean, masks, really?”
The hooded boy stops for a second and studies Michael closely, one hand on his hip, “What’s wrong with the masks?”
“Well, what’s the point? There’s, what, fifteen or sixteen of you? And three of us?” He asks, glancing around the room, which he now realized very clearly used to be some run-of-the-mill storage room, probably forgotten about by now.
The boy laughs sarcastically and shrugs his shoulders a bit, his voice back to its natural pitch, “It wouldn’t really be a secret thing if we just invited half the student body, mate.”
Michael supposes his reasoning is sound and says as much with a little hum and nod of his head, eyebrows raising dismissively. 
“Anything else?” The masked boy asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The masks don’t really disguise you lot that well,” he observes, pointing at one of the other boys standing in the row, “That’s Harry from Multivariable Calculus.”
“Shit…” Harry mutters under his breath, the sound carrying through the concrete room. A few of the other boys in the row lean over and place comforting hands on his shoulders and murmur words of encouragement, much to Michael’s dismay.
“Why’re you here, initiate?” The lead boy asks, turning back to Michael.
“Dunno,” he shrugs again, pushing his glasses up his nose, “Friends, I guess.”
A couple of the boys in the row make little noises, mutters of empathy that make the blond’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion as he glances up and down the line. 
“And this was your first thought? A secret society?” Harry from Multivariable Calculus asks with a little laugh, “Not like… chess or something?” 
“Don’t really like chess…” Michael says with a little shrug. Apparently a good enough answer for Harry, who makes a little noise of understanding and nods his head. 
After another moment, the lead boy clears his throat, which shuts up the rest. “Anyway,” he says, his voice falsely low once more. “Each of you will be given a task…,” his dark eyes glance between Michael and the other two boys as he paces in front of them, “Perfectly customized to challenge you, to push you to your absolute limits.” 
The masked boy pauses his little speech and gestures back to three of the other boys standing in the row behind him who then step forward and walk over to the dank brick wall that Michael and the other two boys stand against. He studies the boy that walks towards him carefully, his eyes narrowing in suspicion when he notices how much shorter he appears to be.
Finally, the boy comes to stand before him and presents a plain white envelope, though Michael’s lips spread into a hateful smirk when he sees an all too familiar pair of old, beat up trainers on the boy’s feet. 
“Oliver?!” He hisses meanly, shock lacing his voice as he jerks back the hand he had reached out for the envelope, wincing as his elbow collides with the cool wall behind him. He glances around the room, noting the few pairs of eyes that were on him, before fixing his gaze on the boy before him once more with a harsh glare, “You’re in Bullingdon?”
The boy in front of him hesitates for a second, cutting a sideways glance toward a taller boy that was busy presenting an envelope to the boy to Michael’s left, before he sighs and looks back at him, blue eyes peeking out of the holes in his ski mask. “Yeah,” he huffs, shrugging his shoulders defensively, “How’d you know it was me, then?”
“You look like a goddamn twelve year old!” Michael jeers, his voice low and vicious as his hands curl into fists at his sides, “How’d you manage to get into this club anyway?” He questions, seething, “They only let you in if you have the money or the marks and I know for a fucking fact you don’t have either.”
Oliver sighs again and rolls his eyes, which makes him see red and grit his teeth, although he doesn’t miss how the shorter boy’s eyes cut to the side again quickly. He opens his mouth, but before he can get a word in edgewise, the blond cuts him off with a little mocking laugh.
“Don’t tell me that’s fucking Catton,” Michael groans lowly with a shake of his head, breathing heavily as he feels the same sense of anger and betrayal he’d felt all those months ago well up in him once more, transporting him right back to the stupid damn pub, “You’ve got to be bloody kidding me, is this shite little club only full of cunts?”
“Look, I’m –” 
Oliver starts to speak again, only to be cut off when the head boy traipses over to where they are, coming to stand ominously behind him with his arms clasped behind his back. His dark eyes dart between the two boys before he speaks.
“Problem over here, lads?”
“No,” Oliver answers quickly, staring warily up at Michael as he practically shoves the envelope into his arms, “Just complete the task, initiate. You have thirty-six hours.” 
Before Michael can blink, Oliver turns his back and stalks back over to the other boys, taking his place in the row once more. The head boy looks Michael up and down appraisingly before nodding to the letter in his hands with a sly smirk.
“I can’t wait to see how you fare with that one, Gavey,” he says, his voice low and threatening, as if he’s in on the most delicious joke, “Remember, thirty-six hours, initiate.” He chuckles softly and departs, returning to stand in the center of the room. 
Everyone stands still for a moment, Michael and the other two boys to his left and right holding their respective envelopes nervously, unsure if they were supposed to open them now or not. Thankfully, the head boy clears his throat, commanding all eyes to him once again.
“Initiates,” he says slowly, his voice no doubt already hoarse from this little farce, “Failure to complete your tasks will result in a permanent ban from Bullingdon; no second chances. We expect results as well as proof of those results,” his dark eyes scan over the three boys once more, one corner of his mouth turned up into a mean smirk, “We’ll be seeing you back in this location Sunday at noon. Your thirty-six hours begin now… have fun.” He finishes with a taunting laugh before turning and exiting from the room, the old door creaking as he pulls it open before disappearing into the faint red glow of the hallway, followed by the rest of the fifteen boys in an orderly line.
As soon as the old door closes, the sound of paper tearing echoes around the dimly lit basement as Michael and the other two boys hastily tear open their envelopes. Pulling out a little slip of paper, his eyes go wide as a wave of dread washes over him. His eyes scan over the paper again and again as he nervously shoves his glasses back up his nose once more, silently willing the chicken-scratch words on the paper to somehow change, to give him some other command. 
His heart is pumping so loudly in his ears that he misses it when one of the other boys tries getting his attention, his head snapping up suddenly as a hand waves in front of it.
“Oi!”
“W-What?” 
“What did they give you?” The boy asks, nodding at the scrap of paper in Michael’s hand.
He clears his throat and tries his best to come off as casual, though he hardly cares with the way thoughts begin racing through his mind. “Oh, um,” he starts, glancing down to read over the paper once more, “I just uh, have to sleep with someone is all.”
The other two boys gape at him for a moment before groaning frustratedly. The one that had first spoken to him holds his paper out and smacks it disdainfully with the back of his hand.
“What the hell?” He asks gruffly, glancing between his paper and Michael, “Why’s yours so bloody easy?”
“For real,” sighs the second boy, rubbing the back of his head, “Ours are damn near impossible. They must already be decided on you to go so soft. How am I meant to steal the fucking Selden Map from Bodleian?” He laments, brows furrowed as he stares down at the paper in his hands.
“Yeah, and I have to transfer ten thousand pounds out of the chancellor’s bank account and into mine!” The first boy sighs, shaking his head, “At least your mum’s head of conservatorship here, you can at least get within a stone’s throw of the map. I have to commit fucking wire fraud!” 
The two boys grumble for another moment as Michael silently descends into a tailspin, his blue eyes unfocused as he stares at one of the dingy brick walls of the basement, trying desperately to formulate a plan, any plan. He merely glances up as the other to head for the door, spitballing ideas for each of their tasks.
“Isn’t your dad the president of Julius Baer? Can’t you just get him to pull strings?”
“Oh, yeah, fantastic idea! I’ll just ring him and ask the old man to commit a felony! What could possibly go wrong there?”
Michael tries to tune out their bickering as the three of them ascend the staircase and trail out into the hallway of Merton College Chapel once more; the two other boys don’t pay him any mind as they continue whispering amongst themselves, their voices trailing quietly down the hallway as he leans with his back against the cool metal of the janitor’s closet door. 
Sighing, he reads over the directive again, his blue eyes catching on the sharply scrawled letters of a very familiar name, one that makes his cheeks flush and his heart race. He swallows nervously, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
How could they know to do this? He wonders sheepishly. It’s not like he’d mentioned her to anyone; hell, he’d never even said so much as three words to her! No, his pathetic little crush was entirely in his mind. 
Too much of a coward to even say hi, he bemoans, trying to stave off the sense of shame he felt as he considered how many times he’d finished with her name on his lips, her pretty face and soft curves and sweet smell and little girly outfits whirling around his head since he’d spotted her on the first fucking day; he’d pined ever since and she didn’t even know he existed! How could she?
This is fucking impossible, he thinks miserably, wishing that he had any other task. He’d rather steal the Queen’s own goddamn family jewels than this. He glances at his watch once more and groans when he sees it’s almost already two in the morning; pushing himself up off the door, he hangs his head as he scurries back to his dorm room, thoughts spiraling as he plots. 
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You
A laugh bubbles up past your lips as you sway your hips, your whole body vibrating as “Umbrella” blasts through the speakers while you dance with your friends, partying to celebrate the end of term. 
“You can run into my arms, it’s okay, don't be alarmed!” You sing happily, yours and your friends voices mingling together with another peal of laughter; you take another sip of your drink as you move along with the beat of the song, savoring the fizzy strawberry daiquiri as you begin to feel a bit warm from the little rush of alcohol, already on your third drink of the night. 
You smile proudly as you spot Felix in the crowd, his hazel eyes already fixed on you, or well, fixated on your chest. His attention makes you preen and you bite your lower lip, the sickly sweet taste of your cherry lip gloss filling your mouth as you purposefully bounce up and down on the balls of your feet. 
The thin straps of your pastel pink dress hold on for dear life as your chest heaves enticingly, and you giggle when you see those hazel eyes widen just a bit, no doubt tracing over the glittering chain of your necklace, following down to where it settles, a little sparkly pink diamond nestling temptingly at your cleavage. You teasingly wink, blushing a little when you get a wink back, and go back to dancing with your friends, knowing from experience that Felix preferred to approach rather than be approached. 
You dance with your friends for a few more moments, grinding up against any warm body you can find as a raunchier song begins pumping through the speakers, before you feel eyes on you yet again. Smiling at the attention, you glance around again, the low, colorful lighting of the pub making it hard to tell exactly which direction your admirer’s coming from. 
Your eyes flit over a few familiar faces, you can’t help but sigh in relief when you notice that Oliver’s eyes are thankfully planted firmly on someone that is not you, though a confused little crease forms between your brows when you realize that Felix’s aren’t either. Turning your head, you sway along to the music still as you look around quickly, your feet beginning to ache finally from the precious little satin Chanel heels buckled around your ankles. 
Your eyes finally lock onto an unexpected gaze, a fresh wash of pink coloring your cheeks as blue eyes glance shyly away from you. A little giggle titters past your lips as you lean over to one of your friends, patting her shoulder to get her attention.
“You know who that blond guy is? With the glasses?” You call over the music, nodding over in your admirer’s direction as he stands awkwardly back against the wall by the entrance, clutching a still-foamy pint. 
She glances over before turning back to you with a little shrug. “Michael something, I think!” She says, her breath warm as she leans in closer so you can hear her, “I thought Oliver knew him!”
Your eyes immediately find the brunette, predictably following Felix around like a lost little puppy, before you look back over at Michael. You can’t help but feel a bit bad when you see him quickly look away from your direction again before staring intently into his pint glass, one hand shoved in the pocket of his khaki pants. 
“I’m gonna take a breather for a second!” You yell over the loud music, leaning in close and cupping a hand over her ear. 
“Aw, babe, come on!” She pouts playfully, tilting her head at you, “Stay longer!”
You shake your head with another little laugh and gesture at your feet, “These are sooo cute but they’re killing me!” You laugh, finishing off the last sip of your drink, “I’ll be over by the notice board!” You tell her, blowing a kiss as you walk away from the dance floor of the small, cramped pub. 
Finally, you reach the little area by the front door and lean back against the wall, taking in a much-needed deep breath as you pull your little tube of lip gloss out of your bra and carefully reapply some more, smirking when you glance over out of the corner of your eye and see a certain blond boy already shyly eyeing you. 
Rubbing your lips together with a little pouty pop, you tuck your gloss back in your bra once more before slowly approaching Michael, prettily manicured hands clasped behind your back to help shamelessly push your chest out more. His wide eyed stare makes you giggle and blush as you study him, eyes flitting appreciatively up and down his lithe frame; so much potential hidden away under a little button down and khakis. 
“Haven’t seen you here before,” you tease, smirking when he blushes and all but chokes on his beer, coughing for a few seconds before finally speaking.
“I… Me?” He asks awkwardly, glancing around for seemingly anyone else you could be talking to.
Lucky for him, you find his awkwardness endearing. Truthfully, you had for months, never missing the way his eyes always happened upon you in a crowd. There was something impressive about the boy, something that had made your mind drift to him on more than one occasion, even if you were already under someone else. 
“Of course you, silly,” you laugh softly, leaning against the wall next to him and tilting your head curiously, “You’re Michael, right?”
His eyes go wide again and nods wordlessly before finding his voice. “Yeah, Michael,” he says with a reserved little smile, “Gavey! Michael Gavey…” He adds awkwardly, cheeks flushing even more when you giggle, seemingly charmed by his inability to string two words together. He nods as you introduce yourself.
“I know,” he says before blinking, eyes going wide behind his gold framed glasses as he awkwardly glances away, “I just… I mean I’ve heard your name before, that’s all.”
“That’s all, huh?” You echo with a flirty little giggle, twirling a lock of hair around your finger as you let the moment linger, just wanting to push him a little. “What’re you reading?” You ask curiously, cocking your head to the side a little.
“Maths,” he nods quickly before looking down into his pint glass once more as if fizzling beer is the most interesting thing in the world, “I don’t really like it all that much, though… I mostly only picked it because I’m good at it.”
“Ooh,” you coo softly, nodding along with his words as you watch him carefully, “You must be wicked smart, I can’t do maths to save my life.” You comment with a little giggle, biting your lip when he seems to perk up at that comment and looks up at you with a little grin. 
“I can do it in my head,” he says lowly, an unexpectedly cocky edge to his voice that has your heart picking up in your chest, “Ask me a sum,” he says, a challenging glimmer in his eyes. 
You hum softly, biting your lip as you think for a second, “Uhm, seventy-two plus a hundred and thirteen?”
“One eighty-five,” he chuckles after no more than a second before scoffing a little, “Come on, give me one that’s hard, love.”
Love? The little pet name makes you raise an eyebrow before you laugh softly. “What do you mean a hard one?” You giggle, shaking your head, “That one was hard!”
“That was hard for you?” He teases, making your cheeks tingle as a pink flush settles over your skin, “What’re you reading, then?”
“Art history!” You chirp proudly, chuckling nervously when you see him roll his eyes a bit, “What? Something wrong with that?”
He shakes his head dismissively, quickly polishing off the last of his pint before setting the empty class on a table and turning back to you, pushing his glasses up his nose with a grin, “Ask me another one, then. Biggest numbers you can think of.”
You don’t know why, but something about his little challenge has you blushing again, like he’s testing you somehow. But still, you take a moment to think of some numbers, biting your lip and quirking your eyes up toward the ceiling. 
“Six hundred thirty-two times… eight hundred ninety-one,” you hum, cocking your head to the side as you watch him closely. His eyes seem to glaze over, only for a second, before once again he’s spouting off numbers like a calculator. 
“Five hundred sixty-three thousand, one hundred and twelve.” 
Your eyebrows raise at that as you gawk at him. “Wow…,” you breathe after a moment, blinking as you stare up at him, “You’re, like, super smart, then?”
“Suppose so,” he says, smiling shyly again as he tucks both hands into the pockets of his khaki pants.
You study him for a moment as the conversation lulls, finding something endlessly fascinating about the boy; the way he could swing from being so cocky and self assured to shy and awkward makes your stomach do summersaults. Turning your head, you spot your group of friends still dancing and you look back at Michael with a little sigh as another upbeat song blasts loudly through the pub. 
“D’you wanna get out of here?” You ask, smirking when he looks up at you shyly.
“W-What?”
“My dorm’s only, like, a minute from here,” you flirt, sweet and enticing as you make him blush somehow more, “We could go somewhere more… quiet?”
He stares at you for a moment, shocked that you’re asking him of all people to come back to yours before he nods and nervously runs a hand through his wheat colored hair, unsuccessfully trying to act casual. “Yeah, yeah, I can do that.”
“Yay!” You giggle happily, flirtatiously grabbing one of his hands as you saunter past him, heading for the exit, “C’mon, it’s like a five minute walk!” He nods wordlessly and you can’t help but smirk as he follows you like a lost little puppy. 
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True to your word, it’s only a few minutes later when you and Michael reach your dorm room, after you’d stopped for a minute at the entrance to your hall to chat with Farleigh, who seemed very interested in the nerdy boy following at your heels. You just couldn’t wipe the smirk off your face as you and Michael left him standing at the doors, mouth open and a wicked little gleam in his eyes; no doubt, he’d immediately scurried off to the King’s Arms. 
The door to your room opens with a tiny squeak, blasted old building, and you all but prance inside, turning back to the blond boy still lingering in the doorway with a smile. 
“Am I going to have to invite you in like a vampire?” You joke with a little laugh as you bend down to quickly undo the buckles of your heels, letting out a relieved sigh when you finally step out of them, leaving you in frilly white ankle socks.  
Michael finally steps into your room with a huffed laugh and quickly kicks off his shoes, you smirk when you see his Star Wars themed socks. “‘M no vampire, love,” he quips, gold framed eyes darting around your room as he looks over every detail. You grin at the little blush on his cheeks and perch on the edge of your bed to watch him, head tilted ever so slightly. 
“It’s, uh, it’s cute in here,” he observes, his voice a low hum as he takes in your frilly, lacy curtains, plush white rug, and equally girlish floral bedding, all encased in the faint pink glow of the heart-shaped fairy lights strung up around the room, “Just like how I imagined…” He breathes, so lowly you doubt he meant to say that bit aloud. 
“Like you imagined?” You echo with a little giggle, quickly reapplying your lip gloss before setting the little tube on the corner of your desk. 
“I just… I – It’s just very… you, is all I meant,” he stutters, running a hand through his hair awkwardly, the apples of his cheeks flushed a dark pink. 
His awkwardness is so endearing, you can’t help but grin. The more time you spend with him, the more interesting he seems to become; this bumbling, nervous boy is so different from the one you’ve seen on campus so many times. On campus, he’s comfortable, quiet still, but with a definite air of confidence – clearly in his element as he prowls through bookshelves in the library or explains some complex math formula in the quad. 
“So, you think about me often, then?” Your voice stays sweet, innocent almost, though you can’t help but tease him; he’s so pretty when he blushes. 
“No!” He answers quickly, whipping his head toward you from where he’d been studying the various pictures tacked up on the walls, everything from boy band posters to stills from Clueless and Legally Blonde. “I mean, yes, sometimes, I…,” he fumbles again and pushes his glasses up his sharp nose, “I think about you a normal amount.” He says finally, glancing at you quickly before looking away. 
You hum softly and stand before walking toward him with a kind smile, though you don’t miss the way he keeps glancing down at your cleavage, or the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he swallows nervously. 
“A normal amount?” 
“Mhm,” he nods, gaze unsure as you come to stand in front of him, teeth biting into your plush lower lip as you twirl a piece of hair through your fingers, “As much as I think of anyone else.”
“So…,” you breathe, drawing out the word as you reach up and fiddle with the collar of his button down shirt, the turquoise gingham a bright blue blip among all the blush tones of your room, “Every time I’ve caught you looking at my tits in the library or in the quad or in the hallways… that was just a normal amount?”
You giggle as his eyes go wide, his lips opening and closing like a fish out of water. Deciding to take mercy on him, you run a finger down his chest, playfully fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.
“Relax, I’m not mad,” you shake your head, smiling when the tension in his shoulders visibly eases, “Why wouldn’t I want a cutie like you staring?”
His lips part at that as he sucks in a little breath, blue eyes widening behind his glasses. “You think I’m… cute?” He asks breathlessly, heart pounding under your fingertip. 
Your teeth sink into your bottom lip once more as you nod, cocking your head to the side just slightly as you peer up at him. “‘Course I do, honey, what’s not to like?”
Again, he gawks at you, blinking in shock and swallowing nervously.
“I –” 
“I do have one question though…,” you tease, pouting a bit as you slowly and carefully undo the very top button on his shirt, relishing the way his breath hitches in his throat. 
“Y-Yeah?” His voice breaks, making you giggle while he blushes somehow deeper.
“Mhm,” you nod, undoing the second button and pausing when you find a splash of hair across his chest, the same shiny wheat color as the hair on his head, causing a familiar knot to begin twisting itself up in your belly, “Why were you at the end of term party?”
He blinks for a second, evidently taken off guard. “I… W-Was it invite only?”
His question nearly makes you snort and you shake your head, the corners of your lips twitching as you try not to laugh. “No, sweetie,” you peer up at him through your lashes as you rest your hand against his bare chest, smirking ever so slightly when he shivers, “I just meant, I haven’t seen you at parties before… doesn’t really seem like your kind of thing.” 
“I, well,” he stammers, the bottoms of his glasses fogging up from the heat radiating off his cheeks, “I just –”
“It’s for that club, yeah?” You ask finally, giggling at the shocked expression on his face.
“How do –”
“You lot are not nearly as sneaky as you think,” you laugh cheekily, bouncing excitedly on the balls of your feet, “Plus, I heard Felix and Oliver whispering about something to do with tasks a few weeks ago… and boys are very bad at keeping secrets once you get their cocks out.” You add with a little giggle, taking Michael’s hand once more and dragging him over to your plush bed. You sit him on the edge before all but climbing in his lap, smiling cheekily as you straddle his thighs, your knees digging into your soft bedding.
“So,” you start, holding onto his shoulders to balance yourself and smiling a little when he finally touches you, lightly resting his hands on your hips, “What’s your task, hm? I heard they made them, like, particularly brutal this year.”
“I don’t think I should say,” Michael murmurs with a little shake of his head, making you pout.
“Oh, come on!” You bounce on his lap a little, not missing the way his eyes seem to be drawn to your breasts like magnets, “I want to help! Is it something at the King’s Arms?”
“N-No, I really don’t think –”
“I know they keep the important rugby trophies there,” you think aloud, still playing dumb, just wanting him to say it, “Is that it? D’you have to steal one? One of the boys that works there owes me, I could get him to let you in after hours…” You prattle on, speaking faster and faster as Michael shakes his head beneath you.
Finally, he seems to reach a breaking point and his grip on your hips tightens. “I have to fuck you!” He blurts out before sighing.
“Oh, really?”
“I… I have to fuck you –”
“Mhm?”
“And prove I did somehow.”
“How interesting!”
He narrows his eyes at that and peers up at you suspiciously, studying you carefully. You can’t help but giggle, loving the way you feel when his eyes are on you, and you smirk when he finally blinks in realization.
“You… you knew this whole time, didn’t you?”
A sly smile spreads across your lips as you nod, squirming excitedly on his lap. “Like I said,” you chuckle with a little shrug, “Not. Sneaky!” You tease, punctuating each word with a little boop to the tip of his nose, unable to resist. 
He stays silent for a moment, gazing up at you with a strange mixture of awe and unease before he finally speaks through a deep sigh. “So, I suppose this is the part where you tell me to leave?”
Well, that comment throws you off. You cock your head to the side, confused, as your eyebrows furrow together. “Why would I ask you to leave?”
He sighs again and grits his teeth, looking dejectedly at the floor. “Come on, love,” he mutters, looking anywhere but you, “I-It’s not like you’d ever want to –”
“Ever want to what?” You ask with a frown, gently grabbing at his chin and tilting his head up, forcing him to meet your gaze, “You think I don’t wanna fuck you, honey?”
“Well, I –”
“Michael,” you say pointedly, raising your brows as you smirk slightly, staring deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m the one that came onto you, yeah?”
“I… I suppose.”
“Mhm,” you hum, nodding your head as you run your fingers through his short hair, not missing the little sigh that leaves his lips when you push yourself closer to him, your chest pressing tightly against his, “And while I’m not thrilled at our first time being for some stupid little task –”
“It’s,” he cuts you off shyly, shaking his head ever so slightly, “It’s – I’ve never…” He stammers, nervously gripping at your waist once more. 
You can’t help but smile softly, so charmed by him over and over. You nod your head knowingly, raising your brows just a bit. “I know, honey,” you whisper reassuringly, “We don’t have to, I’ll let you take a pair of my panties or whatever else, but we don’t need to do anything.”
He sighs up at you again, so taken with you he feels like he could scream, and shakes his head more, grabbing at your hips tighter, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “N-No, I… I want to,” he nods, swallowing anxiously, “I do, I just… don’t really know what I’m doing.”
You nod again, listening carefully as he speaks. “So, is it all new or…?”
He shakes his head and smiles a little, shyly, though the sight of it still makes that knot in your belly tighten further, making you blush on his lap while butterflies swirl around inside you. “I’ve kissed before,” he says lowly, chuckling awkwardly as he seems to get bolder, causing you to shudder when he lightly rubs his hands over your waist and hips, “And done… hand stuff.”
You giggle at his boyish explanation and bite your lip when you smile at him, wiggling in his lap as a heat begins to settle at the apex of your thighs. “Can I kiss you, honey?” 
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat again, making you want so badly to press soft, glossy kisses to it, but you resist, determined to make this good for him. 
“Yeah,” he nods eagerly, blue eyes fixated on your lips.
You smile softly before leaning in and finally pressing your lips against his, both of you sighing at once. One of his hands stays at your hip while the other comes to rest in the small of your back, pressing you more tightly to him as your lips move together, his motions surprisingly fluid and practiced. 
You make a small noise in the back of your throat when you feel his tongue licking at your bottom lip, and eagerly allow him access with a little sigh. Your fingers busy themselves with unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, making him shudder beneath you when you skim your hands over his bare chest and stomach as his tongue flows with your own, the bitter, coffee-ish flavor of the pint he’d had earlier still on his tongue.
Impatient, you pull back long enough to look at him for reassurance, smiling when you earn a little nod. You kiss him once more before tugging his shirt off, flushing when he groans lowly as you trail kisses down over his jaw and neck before swiping your tongue greedily over his Adam’s apple, making his breath hitch. 
“F-Fuck,” he sighs brokenly, bolding tracing over your thigh until his fingers are tucked up under the silky, baby pink material of your dress. His touches make you shiver as goosebumps bloom over your skin, making you whine against the pale column of his throat, “Can I?” He breathes, fingers toying with a strap of your dress while the others slowly inched the bottom of it up higher and higher. 
“God, please,” you mewl, nodding against his throat, your head on his shoulder. He shudders at the feel of your breath on his neck and nods once before tugging at the bottom of your dress. You sit up to help him, whining when you feel his hard length pressing against your thin, lacy underwear, “You don’t need to ask, Michael. Want you to take me however you want.” You whisper as he tugs your dress over your head, blue eyes meeting yours for a second as he nods before they skim lower, widening as he takes you in on his lap wearing only a bra and panties. 
“Holy shit,” he breathes, making you giggle shyly as you lean in and softly kiss over his cheeks, “You have…you’re – you’re perfect,” he sighs, brazenly cupping your breasts, skimming his thumbs over your nipples through the thin pink fabric of your bra and smiling proudly when he feels them harden at his touch, “You’re perfect, but these are… holy shit.” He repeats, his voice breathy and mesmerized as he takes in your chest for another moment while you softly card your fingers through his golden hair. 
You gasp through a little giggle when you feel his length twitch, even through his trousers, and wiggle on his lap, blushing when the movement earns you a broken groan. “Yeah?” You whisper cheekily, watching as he marvels at your chest for a second longer before quickly unclasping your bra and shrugging out of it, tossing it down onto the floor with his shirt and your dress, “What about now?” You tease, proudly arching your back as you bite your lip.
He groans again, louder than he has all evening, and instantly ducks his head down. The feel of his soft lips wrapping eagerly around one of your nipples makes you cry out, gasping sharply as he sucks at the sensitive bud before he runs his tongue over it. You cradle the back of his head in your hands, fingers lightly pulling at the short strands of hair, as he switches from one breast to the other, kneading whichever one is free with his hand. 
Needing something, anything, you finally pull him off of your chest after a few moments, laughing when he all but whines, and smiling even more when you take in his disheveled appearance – blond hair sticking up at odd angles from where you’d run your fingers through it, cheeks flushed as his glasses sit crooked on his nose, and his blue eyes staring up at you hungrily. 
You shift back on his thighs just enough to snake a hand between the two of you and he gasps when you cup the bulge pressing against the zipper of his khakis. “You want me to suck your cock?” You ask cheekily, lightly squeezing at his length. 
He surprises you by shaking his head no,gulping slightly with an awkward laugh before answering. “I do, I really fucking do, love,” he breathes, kneading at your breasts as he stares up at you sheepishly, “B-But I really want to last and if you… if you suck it, I –”
“Okay, okay,” you stop him with a kiss, “We’ll table it for next time.” 
“N-Next time?” He questions, fighting to keep his eyes open as you press kisses against his neck once more. You nod against his shoulder and press kisses up to just beneath his ear. 
“I’m not letting you go that easy, honey,” you whisper, chuckling when he shivers. You spend another moment softly kissing and biting at his neck before speaking again, “Have you ever eaten anyone out?” You question, pulling back to look at him.
He shakes his head, his eyes flicking between both of yours as he looks up at you. “No.” He answers simply, his voice hardly a whisper. 
You can’t help but smirk coyly and cock your head to the side, running a finger through the little patch of hair on his chest just to see him shudder. “You wanna try it?”
He nods eagerly and surprises you once again by quickly swinging you around, maneuvering you until your head rests on the pillows of your bed. You squeal at the movement, laughing with him as he settles over you, his narrow hips slotting easily between your thighs as you silently marvel at his unexpected strength, the shock of it going right between your legs. 
“You want me to lick your pussy?” He asks lowly, grinning when he sees your eyes widen ever so slightly. 
“You’re quite something, huh?” You breathe, still gazing up at him in surprise. 
“Observant,” he shrugs, smirking as he sits up, kneeling between your legs, “You aren’t the only one who is, love.” He teases, quickly undoing his belt and trousers and groaning as he pushes them down his thighs, stopping at his knees. 
Your eyes go wide at the size of his length, it’s clearly very impressive and it’s not even out of his plaid boxers yet. That smirk stays plastered on his face as he leans back down to hover over you, hastily removing his glasses and sitting them on your desk before sloppily kissing you for a moment, surprising you yet again by trailing wet kisses down your neck. 
“Michael…” You sigh dreamily, arching your back toward him when he starts kissing over your chest. He groans from deep in his chest, mouth pressed against the fat of your breast. 
“Fucking hell,” he curses, teasing your nipple again with the tip of his tongue, “Say it again, love.” 
His simple command sends shivers down your spine and you mewl, squirming underneath him, “M-Michael!” You moan again, fumbling over your words as he sucks at your breast again before he lifts his head. 
“Good girl,” he purrs with a sly, easy smirk that makes your heart jump, a soft sigh tumbling past your lips. He shifts further down the bed, kissing down over your ribs and stomach, his confidence seemingly growing every time he presses his lips against your skin; the thought makes your head spin.
Finally, he hooks his fingers into the lacy sides of your panties, and his eyes peer up at you as he tugs them down over your hips before flinging them onto the floor. “Oh, my God…,” he sighs, staring greedily at your pussy, a broken groan sounds from his throat when you spread your legs more. 
You bite your lip and giggle, smiling shyly as you tangle your fingers in his hair once more. “Like what you see?” 
He nods his head rapidly, making you chuckle again as he stares up at you, an almost pained expression on his face. “I… uh, w-what now?” 
He’s so endearing, you can’t help the little sigh that leaves you and you sit up a little, leaning back on an elbow as you use your other hand to spread your center open. You bite your bottom lip once more when he whines a little, seeing you all spread out before him, flushed folds already slick and shiny. 
“Lick here, honey,” you whimper as you skim your fingers over your clit, so keyed up from only a few kisses that you gasp a little when you feel yourself clench; Michael looks like he may pass out. 
Ever the dutiful student, he gives you one last look before diving in. Your head falls back with a whiny gasp as his tongue snakes over your clit, just as you’d instructed. A long, shuddery moan leaves him, vibrating against your cunt and you watch as his blue eyes all but roll back in his head. 
“Just like that, Michael,” you praise, tugging at his hair ever so slightly, which only serves to make him moan more. Your chest heaves as you watch him, determined not to let your eyes squeeze shut while he licks and kisses and sucks at your pussy like a man possessed, “Holy shit!” You whimper loudly when he pushes his tongue into you, groaning lowly when he feels your walls clench around it as he presses his nose perfectly against your clit. 
“You taste so good,” he gasps, wrapping his hands around your thighs to keep you exactly where he wants. He peers up at you through blond lashes as he feasts on you, sucking eagerly at your clit and savoring the way you shiver and squirm from his motions. 
Unbelievably, you already feel that warm, familiar tug in your belly beginning to grow, making your whole body feel flush and taut. “Just like that, just like that,” you whine urgently, grabbing onto his hair tighter and guiding his mouth exactly where you need it, your eyes finally rolling back and fluttering shut, “Holy fuck, don’t stop!” 
Michael grunts as you tug at his hair, his own hips rutting greedily against your pretty bedding — cock throbbing so hard there’s no doubt he’s leaked through his boxers. He watches you carefully, studying your movements and reactions as best he can while he rhythmically licks at your clit. 
“Oh, shit!” You cry not even a moment later, your whole body seeming to stutter as your muscles finally relax. You mewl as your high finally washes over you, savoring the way Michael groans into your cunt as he feels it contracting on his tongue. Your eyes stay squeezed shut as shivers roll up and down your spine, shuddered cries leaving your lips. 
Just as his touches begin to border on overstimulation, you have enough wherewithal to push him away, and he releases your center with a lewd little pop. 
“Was that good?” He asks through a breathless laugh, swallowing as he looks up at you, evidence of your arousal still shining on his lips and chin. 
“Good?” You huff, eyebrows raised as you gaze down at him, “You’re sure you’ve never done that before?” You question in disbelief, chest still heaving. 
He smiles shyly, already pink cheeks seeming to flush deeper from your praise as he chuckles. You cup his cheeks when he leans over you again, whimpering as you taste yourself on his tongue. 
“You’re unbelievable.” You sign as he kisses down your neck again, making him chuckle against your skin. 
“Just observant,” he grunts, shuddering when you wrap your legs around his trim waist. You gasp as his length brushes over your still sensitive pussy, impossibly hot and hard even through the thin fabric of his boxers. His fragmented sigh makes you smile and you tug his head up, blushing as you look up at him. 
“You ready, honey?” You breathe, giggling when he nods his head again eagerly, his hips stuttering instinctually against your center. “Here, let me…” You trail off, the two of you separating for a moment as you lean over and pull open the top drawer of your desk, pulling out a pack of condoms and tearing one off before laying back down. 
You watch enraptured as he kneels between your legs again, pulling down his boxers finally. “Holy…” you gasp when his cock finally bobs free, twitching up to rut against his lower stomach; he’s long and thick, curving a little as veins run up the underside, leading to a flushed, leaking head. He smiles shyly again at your attention as he shuffles awkwardly out of his trousers and underwear, kicking them off and onto the floor.
You hand him the condom and watch as he rolls it on, giving him a little reassuring smile as he does. Once it’s securely in place, you pull him back to you, eagerly kissing him once more and wrapping your legs securely around his waist. Both of you moan in unison when his length glides through your folds, the head catching perfectly on your clit. 
He pulls away with a little gasp, hovering over you as he glances down at your hips. “S-So, I just…” He trails off, watching as you reach down with one hand, grunting softly when you wrap your hand around his cock. 
Carefully, you position him at your entrance and angle your hips a little. “Go on, honey,” you encourage with a soft smile, running your other hand over his chest. 
Nodding once, he presses forward and swears he sees God. “F-Fucking hell,” he groans, loudly sighing your name as he carefully guides himself into you, absolutely in awe at the way your hot cunt grips him. His eyes squeeze shut, his hips resting firmly against yours as his chest heaves, breaths coming in short, sharp pants. 
You aren’t fairing much better, head spinning at the way he splits you open, pressing incessantly at each and every sensitive spot within you. You pant against his neck as he stills, pressed deeply within you. 
“D-Do… fuck, do I just…?” Michael stutters, giving half-hearted little thrusts to test the waters. 
“Yes!” You answer instantly, anxiously nodding up at him as your hips wiggle against the bedsheets, making him swear and shudder above you, “Just move, honey, do what feels good.” 
He groans again and gives a little nod before experimentally moving his hips again, pulling out more this time before pushing back in. “Shit,” he breathes above you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he grunts with each roll of his hips. 
You pant underneath him, spurring him on by pressing your feet against his backside, urging him to move faster and faster as the frilly lace from your socks tickles his pale skin. “You’re doing so, so good, oh, my God,” you breathe, your voice high-pitched and whimpery as you tangle your fingers in his hair again, knowing by now that it drives him crazy. 
Above you, Michael’s hips slowly but surely begin to stutter, his thrusts starting to peter out as his breathing picks up. “I’m —!”
“Wait!” You blurt suddenly, smiling wickedly as he comes to a screeching halt, pushing himself up enough to stare down at you with wild eyes, “I have an idea…” You tease with a little giggle. 
“W-What?” 
“You have a phone, yeah?” 
“…Yeah?”
“One that can, like, take video?” 
“Yes?” 
“Grab it,” you laugh, pushing him off of you with a laugh. He rolls his eyes with a smirk but does as you ask, clumsily pulling himself from your heat before stumbling over to where his khakis had landed. He shuffles about for a second before pulling a silver phone from the pocket of his trousers. 
“Now what?” He asks curiously, positioning himself back between your thighs, cock twitching meanly. 
“Film me.” 
“What?!” He gapes at you, brows creased. 
“Film me, honey,” you giggle, biting your lip conspiratorially, “For your little task, you need proof, yeah?” 
“Well, yeah, b-but I can just take your panties or something, I don’t —“
“Or you could bring back something better…” You smirk, shrugging your shoulders playfully, “We don’t have to but… it could be kinda hot?” 
He pauses for a moment, eyes flicking between you, your pussy, and the phone in his hand before he nods once, curtly. “We… we can try it.” 
“Yeah? You wanna?” 
“Yeah,” he quips, catching you by surprise as a mean little smirk spreads over his lips, “Wanna see the look on Catton’s face when he sees you creaming on my cock.” 
Your eyes widen and you huff out a shocked laugh, a zing of electricity lighting behind your eyes. “You’re insane,” you say softly, an endeared smile on your lips. 
He snickers, his whole demeanor seeming to change before your eyes as he transforms from this shy, stuttering boy into an astonishingly cocky man. “You like it, love,” he teases, grabbing his dick and positioning himself at your entrance yet again. 
“Wait!” You giggle again, blushing as he groans. 
“You don’t want to anymore?” 
“No, no, not that,” you assure him, affectionately running your hand down one of his shockingly muscular arms, “You can film me… on one condition.” 
“‘N what would that be?” 
“Take me on a date.” You breathe, suddenly shy. You know he’ll agree to it, but even still, your heart pumps wildly in your chest. 
He stares at you for a second, blinking dumbly as he processes your request. “You want me to take you on a date?” He asks, flushing so deeply that the soft pink hue cascades all the way down to his chest. 
Giggling, you nod your head, giving his forearm a reassuring squeeze. “You need to start giving yourself more credit, honey.” 
He sighs at that, a little astounded huff, before he’s suddenly grabbing at your calves and pushing your legs up toward your shoulders, all but bending you in half, anxious to get his cock back into you. You gasp at the movement, and chuckle at his eagerness, a sound that morphs into a whiny moan when he slides back home. 
“Christ,” he grunts, shoulders heaving as he gets used to the way you feel around him once more, “Y-You feel so good, love, fucking perfect.” 
“You’re so big,” you whine, nodding as you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky, “You’re so good, Michael, you have no idea.” 
He groans above you, hands shaking as he grabs for his phone, flipping it open and quickly opening the camera as his hips rut into you, making the springs of your bed creak softly. 
As soon as Michael gives you a little nod to let you know he’s filming, you truly put on a show — or well, you at least stop trying to quiet yourself down and be conscientious of the people in the rooms next to you. The way he has your legs bent back makes him feel somehow bigger and causes his cock to hit that sensitive spot within you with pinpoint accuracy every time he thrusts in, making you clench around him and moan loudly each time he moves his hips against you. 
You watch as he angles the camera down a bit, no doubt pointing it at the spot the two of you are joined together, letting the camera record his cock sliding in and out of you. When he moves it back up, however, to get your face as evidence, you plaster on the cheekiest grin you can muster. 
“H-Hi boys,” you tease breathlessly, smirking as you lean up on one elbow. You wave with your other hand before blowing a kiss to the camera, which makes Michael cockily laugh.
“Fuck, I gotta…” he mutters after a few more seconds, carelessly dropping his phone down on the bed before roughly grabbing at your thighs with a bruising grip, one that makes you mewl and arch your back toward him. The two of you moan and whimper in unison as he begins thrusting wildly, seemingly too worked up to care about anything but cumming. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant over and over, head spinning as he bullies your sweet spot. 
“That’s it, love,” Michael murmurs, his voice gruff and low as he stares down at you, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead; he looks wilder than you’ve ever seen him, the thought only serving to push you closer and closer to the edge. “S-Shit, that’s it. Fucking come for me, cream on my cock; please, please, please,” he murmurs, leaning down to press desperate kisses against your neck and collarbones. 
The new position causes his pubic bone to rub deliciously over your clit, making you seize beneath him with a loud whine. Your toes curl, heels still pressing into the small of his back. “M-Michael, holy fuck!” You practically squeal as your high finally washes over you once more, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you go lax and pliant underneath him. 
The feel of your walls pulsing around his cock has Michael reeling, his hips somehow thrusting even faster as he both desperately wants to cum while also never wanting this feeling to end. “C-Cum, honey, cum,” you pant softly, cupping his cheek with one hand and turning his face toward yours. 
That does him in and the rubber band in his belly viciously snaps, making him shudder above you as his thrusts come to a halt, cock twitching wildly inside you as he empties himself into the condom. You watch him in awe, taking in every detail from the way his nose scrunches up as his eyes squeeze close to the way he whispers your name over and over like a prayer. 
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The two of you lay in silence for a moment, his breath warm against your neck as he slumps against you trying to catch his breath. 
Eventually, you can’t help it anymore and let out a breathless giggle, which only intensifies when he props himself up on an elbow to peer down at you with a smirk. 
“Something funny?” 
“Just,” you breathe, trying to calm yourself enough to get words out, “Just… wow,” you finally say, giggles petering out as you look up at him, the soft gleam in his eyes makes your heart clench in your chest. 
“Good wow?” He blushes, looking down between the two of you as he pulls himself from your walls with a little hiss. 
“Very, very good wow,” you confirm, grinning as you watch him pull off the condom before he peers up at you with a sheepish grin. “Tie it off, honey,” you instruct, smirking as he does just that, before nodding to the little wastebasket by your desk. 
He gets up with a groan and quickly tosses the condom in the trash before turning back to you, the bashful look on his face making you blush. 
Unable to resist, you grin at him and spread your arms with a giggle, wordlessly inviting him for a cuddle, which he gladly accepts. The bed creaks slightly as he lays back down, relaxing his head on the pillow just beside yours. Again, the two of you stay silent for a moment, content to merely gaze at one another, before he shyly looks away and sighs. 
“I…,” he starts, blue eyes blinking and flitting around your room as he gathers his thoughts, “Thank you,” he finally says, looking back at you with a little half smile. 
Your brows furrow at this as you grin at him. “What’re you thanking me for?” 
“Well, f-for… this,” he says, gesturing vaguely at the two of you before sitting up just slightly and fishing around in the blankets for a second. “And this,” he sighs, holding his phone up before twisting around to set it on the corner of your desk, turning back to you. “I just… I know you didn’t have to, is all, so…” 
You cock your head to the side as you prop yourself up on an elbow, eyes narrowing as you study him closely. “And people have the nerve to say I’m thick,” you joke, lips spreading into a wide grin as you gaze down at him, “I wanted to do all this, Michael. I’m the one that came onto you, remember?” 
“W-Well, yeah, but —“
“No buts!” You laugh, pressing a finger against his lips as you shake your head, “I have eyes too, you know.” 
“What does that mean?” 
“You haven’t been the only one watching someone for months,” you giggle shyly, pressing your forehead against his, “I meant what I said about that date, too.” 
His arms wind around your waist, holding you tight as he processes your words with a dumbstruck smile, blushing under your gaze. “Whatever you say, love,” he concedes finally, pressing his lips against yours sweetly. 
He yawns tiredly when he pulls away from you after a moment, which only makes you yawn as well, and you glance over at the little clock on your dresser. “Christ,” you gasp, turning back to him, “I didn’t realize it’s already almost four… you can crash here, if you want?” 
He considers it for a moment, knowing he has to be back in that stupid little basement by noon and making a mental map of where exactly your dormitory is in relation to the Merton College Chapel. “I… I can stay, yeah,” he finally nods after a moment. 
“You’re sure?” 
“Love, I’m not sure my legs work well enough yet to walk out of here anyway.” 
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Michael
Groaning, Michael slowly blinks his eyes open, rubbing them softly as he sits up in bed with a yawn. Blindly reaching over for his glasses, he’s confused when he doesn’t feel them in their usual spot and finally opens his eyes properly. 
He stares, confused for a moment as to how exactly he somehow got transported into what appears to be Barbie’s damn dream house, before the events of last night come flooding back to him. 
“Holy shit,” he breathes when he turns his head and sees your still-sleeping form beneath your flowery sheets, your hair tousled wildly on the pillow as your shoulders rise and fall evenly still with each breath. Looking around, he finally spots his glasses and puts them on before reaching for his phone, and cursing again when he sees the time. 
11:47 AM. 
He practically falls out of your bed as he tries to extricate himself from the sheets, and he hears you wake with a start behind him as he grabs wildly at his clothes on the floor. 
“Michael?” You ask questioningly, your voice still hoarse from sleep as you, frankly fucking adorably, rub at your eyes before fixing him with a curious look. 
“Gotta, shit, gotta run,” he explains quickly, cursing as he nearly loses his balance trying to tug his trousers on, “Need to be at Merton Chapel in, like, Christ, ten minutes!” 
“Ohh,” you giggle softly, watching with amusement as he finishes getting dressed, hair and clothes so disheveled that he’s sure he looks like the very definition of the walk of shame. 
Just as he’s tugging his shoes on and making a mad dash for the door, you stop him. “Here,” you smirk, holding out the same lacy pair of pink panties you wore last night, “For proof,” you explain, nodding to the phone in his hand, “Along with that. Should be more than enough,” you giggle proudly. 
He smiled sheepishly as he pockets your underwear. “T-Thanks,” he nods, turning to leave before you stop him once more. 
He can’t help but blush when you lean in and press and quick kiss to his lips, your cherry chapstick rubbing off on him some. Pulling away, you playfully smack his chest with a little grin. “Go get ‘em, honey.” 
Nodding, he smiles again before finally pulling your door open and bounding down the hallway. “I’ll text you, love!” He calls, peering back just before he rounds a corner, “About that date!” 
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It’s 11:58 on the dot when he flings the basement door open, only to be pulled over to the same stupid dank basement wall, his back hitting it once more with a dull thud. 
Glancing around, he sees the ski-masked boys again, all fifteen of them, standing in a row with the head boy slightly out of line. To his left stands one of the other initiates, clutching a black tube of some sort. 
The basement stays silent for a moment before one of the masked boy’s watch alarms goes off just as the bells in the tower begin to chime. 
Once, twice, all the way up to twelve. Noon.
Right on cue, the head boy steps forward even more and looks between Michael and the other initiate. “Your friend couldn’t be bothered to show his face, then?” He asks, dark eyes peering at the boy next to Michael. 
He scoffs and shakes his head, glaring at the head boy. “He’s still at the bank!” He snaps, “All the way in bloody Switzerland,” he kicks at the dirty stone floor as he explains, “Dickhead,” he finally mutters lowly under his breath. 
“Shame,” the head boy quips, clasping his hands in front of his waist, “Some men are simply not cut out for Bullingdon.” 
The boys in the row behind him nod knowingly, each making some little noise of affirmation until the head boy quickly stops them, holding a fist up by his head, bringing it back down to his side when they shut up. 
“So, initiates, what’ve you got?” 
The boy next to Michael steps forward first and hands the black tube to the head boy with a sigh. “There,” he says, gesturing to it, “There’s your bloody map. My mum could get sacked for that.” 
The head boy pops open one end of the tube, a document sleeve Michael now realizes, and gingerly extracts a rolled up piece of parchment from it, unrolling it just enough to confirm it's what they asked for. 
“Well done, initiate,” he nods, seemingly impressed as he flashes a smile at the boy, white teeth gleaming creepily through the slit in his ski mask. Carefully, he rolls the document up again before sliding it back in the tube, “Your commitment to Bullingdon will take you far. Welcome to the fray.” 
The boy stands still for a moment, eyeing the document tube with an almost regretful expression before curtly nodding and taking his place back against the wall. 
“And then there was one,” the head boy murmurs, dark faze fixed on Michael, “I seem to remember we gave you quite the… interesting task indeed, initiate. How did you manage?” 
Smiling damn near arrogantly, Michael all but skips up the head boy and proudly pulls your panties from his back pocket, letting them dangle from his index finger. “See for yourself.” 
The head boy grabs them by the edge and studies them for a moment, turning back to the row of boys behind him with a questioning glance. The boy Michael knows already to be that cunt, Oliver Quick, glances between him, the panties, and Michael, before cutting a sideways glance to a tall boy standing next to him. 
“These could be anyone’s,” the head boy says, turning back to Michael as he shakes his head, “You could’ve nicked them from your sister or something, we’ll need more than this, initiate.”
“Don’t even have a sister,” Michael quips, shrugging his shoulders with a little frown. 
“Okay, like, your cousin or something then –”
“Don’t have a female cousin,” he says with a shake of his head, “All boys.”
“The point still stands!” The head boy finally snaps, making Michael bite the inside of his cheek to hide a little laugh, though the corner of his lips still quirks up in a smirk, “You haven’t got any proof, do you? Is that why you’re stalling?”
Huffing a little laugh, Michael finally lets himself smirk meanly and steps closer to the head boy as he pulls his phone from his pocket, flips it open, and navigates to his video gallery. “Is this enough proof?” He teases, pressing play on the most recent video. 
The picture is small and grainy but there’s no doubt as to what’s happening as the sound of your pretty whimpers and moans echoes around the brick basement, along with the wet smack of Michael’s cock driving into you again and again. 
The head boy stares at the screen still as curiosity gets to a few of the boys in the row behind him and they all come crowd around Michael’s phone, eyes widening behind their ski masks and mouths falling open. 
The tallest one, the one Oliver keeps glancing at, lets out a long sigh as he peers down at the small screen and brings a hand up to his head as if he were going to run it through his hair before remembering the mask he has on. With him this close, Michael finally notices the little silver barbell stuck through his eyebrow and shivers as his lips curl up into a sadistic Cheshire cat smile, a tidal wave of savage pride crashing through his system. 
Finally, fucking finally, I get something he wants, he thinks as your breathy moans continue to pour from the speaker of his phone, tinny and muffled in some spots where he’d accidentally covered the microphone, but beautiful, beautiful and because of him.
After a moment, the video ends, the tiny phone screen reverting back to it’s little thumbnail as the head boy peers up at Michael, the rest of the club members taking their places back in line, though he can’t help but notice that Felix’s broad shoulders are slumped now and Oliver stands ever closer to him, like some kind of fucked up bodyguard. 
“I’ll be damned, initiate,” the head boy sighs with a shake of his head, “I really didn’t think you had it in you.”
He watches as Michael merely nods and pockets his phone again, holding it tightly in his fist even still. After a second, he smiles widely and claps a hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly.
“Welcome to Bullingdon.”
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Some time later, Michael finally exits the basement, a few of the club members, sans ski masks now, nodding goodbye to him as they disperse across campus, meeting adjourned. 
He wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting from the initial meeting but it was mostly them prattling on about where exactly they had all their grubby little fingers, poked in seemingly every facet of society from Parliament to local newspapers. 
Braggy cunts, Michael thinks as he ambles outside, glancing up at the sky as he steps into the Mob Quad, surrounded by stony old buildings. 
Smiling to himself, he pulls out his phone and quickly finds your number in his contacts list, blushing when he sees you’ve taken the liberty of adding some girly heart emoticon next to it. He hardly has time to press it against his ear before you answer.
“Well?” You demand with that now familiar giggle, some unfamiliar pop song playing in the background.
“I’m in,” he confirms, nodding to himself as he slowly walks in the direction of his dormitory, “Thanks to you.” He smiles like an idiot when you laugh.
“Don’t sell yourself short, honey,” you tease, he can picture your bright, glossy smile in his head, “You earned that spot.”
Michael merely shakes his head with a happy little sigh. “So,” he starts, clearing his throat and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “About that date… I was thinking the King’s Arms? Tonight at six, if that works?”
“Oooh, tonight at six,” you repeat teasingly, an image flashing in his mind of you twirling your hair around a perfectly manicured finger, “Someone’s quite eager, hm?”
“Can you blame me?”
“Hmm, I suppose not,” you giggle, pausing for a second, “It’s a date then.”
“Fantastic,” Michael sighs, trying with every fiber of his being to sound casual and cool about the whole thing, even as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. 
“See you tonight, Mr. Bullingdon,” you tease, making a little kissy sound into the phone before hanging up. 
Michael pauses for a moment, standing to the side on the pavement as he nods to himself. If it weren’t so fucking cheesy, he’d raise his fist in the air, victorious, à la Judd Nelson at the end of The Breakfast Club. 
Instead, he flips his phone back open and navigates back to your video. Sighing, he stares at the little thumbnail for a second before deleting it, pocketing his phone once more, and continuing back to his dormitory. 
He has the real thing now.
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vivwritesfics · 7 months
Text
Horse Girl - LN4
High school sweethearts Lando and Y/N are very in love (she also happens to be Flo's best friend and they met through their yards) (any words you don't understand are probably just unimportant horsey terms dw about it) (also idk anything about flo's riding journey, so i made it mirror mine)
Lando Norris x reader
2.3K
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"Flo," Y/N called as she appeared at the stable door. She had Gismo's bridle over her shoulder and her riding hat already on her head. "Think I borrow your martingale?"
Flo left her brush on her horses back and turned towards her friend. "I have conditions."
"Give them to me."
Flo held out her hand, checking things off on her fingers. "You clean it for me at the end of the week, you muck out for me tonight and we go on a hack."
Y/N let out a sigh. "I'm going out with Lando tonight," she said.
Being in a long distance relationship with an F1 driver wasn't easy. Y/N had to stay in England to take care of Gismo and Sooty while Lando was living in Monaco and travelling the world.
When Y/N could, she got somebody to look after the horses and spent a week with Lando in Monaco. When Lando could, he spent the week at Y/N's, visiting his family and watching her ride.
Y/N tried to spend as much time over the summer and winter breaks with him. But this year Y/N began competing Gismo. Lando travelled with her when he could during her competitions. He always had his camera with him, posting her on the jpg account.
Lando and Y/N had been friends for a bloody long time. When Flo started riding lessons, she was stuck behind a girl on a fat little pony that refused to do more than a walk. When their lesson activity had them riding side by side, Flo and Y/N became fast friends.
They went from a weekend lesson together to being at the yard every single day. They loaned the same horse, Y/N riding him for half of the week and Flo riding him for the other. Most of the time they'd be there on the same day, mucking out his stable together and cleaning his tack together. On Flo's day's to ride, Y/N was the one who sorted the jumps and picked up the shit.
When they were younger, when they'd spend all day at the stables, Y/N would sleep over at the Norris house. Flo lived closer to the yard so it just made sense.
Staying at the Norris house meant meeting Flo's big brother. Y/N had heard stories of him before, stories of his karting and his dreams of being in F1.
And then Y/N met Lando. He was the kind of boy who, when Y/N slept over, he wouldn't leave them alone. He was the annoying big brother that stopped by to make a comment on the film they were watching, steal some of their snacks and run off to play his PlayStation.
When they were teenagers, Y/N fifteen and Lando seventeen, things changed. He kept on with that whole annoying big brother image until he was around fifteen. And then he didn't care about teasing the girls - he was too busy winning in F3.
But at seventeen, he started to see Y/N a little differently. She was fifteen, almost sixteen when she watched him win around Silverstone. When he saw her afterwards, he saw her in a new light. Maybe it was that post win haze. But no, because the feelings didn't go away.
Lando waited two and a bit years before he made a move. He was in F2, then, waiting to take his place on the McLaren F1 team. Y/N and Flo were show jumping at the lower levels and Flo was Y/N's show groom for when she tried her hand at eventing.
Lando came up with every excuse in the book to join Y/N and Flo when they went eventing. He offered to drive the trailer for them, offered to groom and tack up Sooty for her. Of course, Lando had no idea what he was doing when it came to grooming and tacking up.
Flo was heavily judging her brother, but she let him come with them. He stood by the trailer, feeding Sooty mints while Y/N and Flo tacked up.
Before Lando entered F1, he knew he had to make his move. Y/N had agreed to help Flo with her horses for the night while she was off doing something unknown. It was November and Lando had just turned 19. It was now or never.
Lando made his way down to the stables. It was dark and freezing, the stables lit by floodlights. Y/N had mucked out Flo's horses and had moved onto hay. Her own horses hadn't yet been taken care of; she could deal with them once she was done with Flo's horses. Lando walked across the yard, trying to avoid getting mud on his shoes. "Y/N?" He called, looking from stable to stable.
Y/N emerged from a barn. She was in her black riding pants, mud splashed up the side. The mud disappeared under her coat and she wore a knitted beanie on her head. "Lando? What're you doing here?" She asked as she walked out of the barn with hay in her arms.
Lando let out a laugh when he saw the mud up her side. "Did you fall off or something?"
She let out a laugh as she threw the hay over the stable door. "Yeah, Sooty decided there was a gremlin hiding in the corner of the arena and freaked out," she answered as she bolted the stable door shut.
With Flo's horses done, Y/N started looking after her own. As she mucked out, Lando talked to her and gave Gismo attention. "So, McLaren, huh?" Y/N asked as she moved Gismo away from the stable door. "You excited?"
"You know it, baby!" Lando cheered. But his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and he scratched at the back of his neck. "Are you gonna come to any of my races?"
"Yeah I'll go with Flo."
But that wasn't what Lando meant. He cleared his throat and rocked on his heels. "What if Flo doesn't go to any? Will you?"
Y/N stopped and put her broom against the stable wall. She crossed her arms over her coat and turned towards her best friends brother. "What are you trying to say, Lan?" Because there was clearly something he wasn't getting across.
Lan. He loved it. He loved when Y/N called him Lan. He somehow went even more red as he looked at her. "I want you to come to my races with me, whether Flo is there or not."
Y/N's eyes went wide. "Oh holy shit, Lan. I'd love to." She looked back at Gismo. "But I can't. Not when I've got these guys."
"Let me take you on a date then, before I go."
That was five years ago. Now, everybody was waiting for the couple to get engaged.
They were in the process of trying to move in together, but that meant Y/N moving the horses with her. Trying to find a stables just outside of Monaco that wasn't over the top expensive seemed too be an impossible task. Lando was happy to pay any amount of money to have his girlfriend and the horses there with him.
But Y/N didn't want to do that. She didn't want to have to rely on Lando to pay for everything. She was going to make it to Monaco, to be there with him, on her own.
Until then they were stuck with the odd date night whenever Lando could come back to England. If Y/N could, she paid somebody to look after Sooty and Gismo while she went to Monaco or to the odd race.
"Is he meeting you here?" Asked Flo as they walked across the stables, towards where they kept their equipment.
Y/N nodded her head. "Should get here just before I'm done with Gismo," she answered. "Pretty good timing if you ask me."
Lando was an incredibly supportive boyfriend. He had to be, with Y/N supporting his Formula One career. Whenever Lando could he came to one of her shows. No matter if she was eventing or jumping or doing dressage, Lando was watching with his camera.
Flo let out a sigh as she passed the martingale to Y/N. "You know, it might actually be nice to see him," she said as she and Y/N made their way back over to the horse.
Y/N quickly got herself and Gismo ready. She led him out to the arena and mounted. She rode him around the arena, warming him up and sending him flying over jumps as she waited for her boyfriend to appear.
Boyfriend. It had been weird saying that at first. After he and Y/N had their first date Lando was whisked away into the world of Formula One. They called a lot in that time, but it was strange. Their dynamics had changed but they weren't together yet.
It was a while before they got to have a second date.
A month after the second they had their third. That was when Lando officially asked her to be his.
That was five years ago.
As soon as Lando turned up to the stables, he knew white trainers had been a mistake. Actually, bringing such an expensive car had been a mistake. But, he got out anyway, locked it, and walked to where he knew he would find his girlfriend.
Lando was in awe every time he watched her ride. He couldn't tear her eyes away as she sent Gismo flying over the jumps, throwing her hands forward to let his neck stretch.
Lando had sat on Gismo before. He was the calmer of the two horses, the only one Y/N trusted to take care of Lando.
When Y/N finished jumping and brought Gismo back down to a trot, Lando clapped. Once upon a time he had whistled for her, but Sooty had spooked and Y/N had fallen off. Lando hadn't done it since.
"Lan!" Y/N called as she steers Gismo towards him. "I missed you."
"I missed you too," said Lando as Gismo put his head over the fence, searching him for treats. When he discovered Lando didn't have any, he resorted to getting attention instead. "Missed you as well, Gremlin."
Y/N took two minutes to cool Gismo down before she jumped off. She took him back to the stable and untacked him in record time, all while Lando watched. It was incredible watching her do the thing she loved, he realised. She must've felt the same way about him.
As soon as she was done, it was time for date night. Y/N finally managed to wrap her arms around Lando, holding him close. "You're gonna stink of horses," she said as Lando squeezed her even tighter.
"I don't care," he answered before he kissed her.
Keeping one arm around her waist, Lando walked her out to the car. Her boots were muddy on his cars interior, but Lando didn't care. She could have walked shit into his car and he wouldn't have cared.
"I brought that dress you like," Lando said. Before he'd gotten to the stables he'd stopped at Y/Ns apartment to get something for her to wear.
"You're the best, Lan," she said as she sorted the music.
I won't bore you with the details of their drive to their drive to the restaurant. Once they pulled up in the car park Y/N tried her best to get dressed in the not very spacious car, since their was no way she was getting in in her state. She combed her fingers through her hair, brushing out any hay.
"Goddamn," said Lando as she stepped out the car. Y/N slipped her hand into his and she walked in.
The restaurant was nice, rather fancy. The pair shared a candle-lit Italian dinner, with music playing softly in the background. Y/N listened eagerly as Lando spoke about his last race. "I really wish you were there, though," he muttered as he finished his dinner. "I can't wait for you to move to Monaco."
"I know, Lan. I can't wait either," she replied. They were making progress. Y/N had found a stables near enough by and it wasn't too pricy. She had a key to Lando's apartment, where she was staying for the weekend while he was away at another race.
As soon as they were finished eating, Lando asked for the bill. "No dessert?" Y/N asked with a frown. Lando loved his dessert, but today he was rushing.
"Nope," Lando answered as he paid. "My trainer would kill me."
As soon as he had paid, Lando escorted Y/N out of the restaurant. He walked her over to the car, stopping half way to do up his laces.
"Thanks for tonight, Lan," she said as she turned towards him.
But, when she did, Lando wasn't doing up his laces. He was down on one knew, an open ring box in his hand. Inside of the ring box was, well, a ring. It was simple, a band with a small stone, just the way Y/N liked it. "I know we haven't moved in together yet, but I really wanna marry you."
There was a moment where Y/N couldn't answer him. She was in complete and utter shock. The only talks of marriage had been tabloid speculation, no indicators from Lando himself. "Holy shit, Lan," she said, because that was all she could say.
It wasn't a question of whether Y/N wanted to marry him. Of course she did. She wanted that more than anything.
"Holy shit Lando Norris. Of course I'll marry you."
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flor4de4amor · 15 days
Note
hockey!abby with the reader being her biggest fan prompt 🫣🫣
click for palestine | boycott tlou!!! | read b4 engaging w me
ok i changed the prompt up a little bit again, but i promisseeeee it's the last time!!!! (it's probably not but shh!!)
you’re almost at every single one of abby’s games. it’s always easy for her to spot you. you’re sectioned off in the front, in one of her old hoodies. at any free moment she has on the ice, abby skates by your section, blowing a kiss, that you eagerly pretend to catch. 
but the key word is almost. this is one of the few games you’ve missed since you and abby have been going steady. even when she used to play college hockey, and you had a silly little crush on her, you’d do your best to show up at the games. hiding somewhere in the back row of watchers, but still keeping an eye out for your favorite player. 
your absence was definitely noted this game. abby had been missing shots, which was quite unusual for her. her teammates teasing her, asking if she needed her good luck charm. to which her answer is yes. a resounding, bolded, large, all caps, yes. 
who was she gonna blow kisses to? who was gonna come rub her back in the locker room after the game? williams better not try it. abby’ll bite her head off, and you’ll never hear the last of it. abby can’t remember the last time she’s played without you watching. you’re her favorite trophy to show off. all pretty, with a wide smile, and gorgeous for her to brandish for anyone who’ll listen. 
the game is rough, for a lack of better words. the team loses,by a lot. too much for abby’s liking. she drives home, her fist pounding her steering wheel. occasionally at a red light while releasing anger onto the battered wheel, she hits the horn. stirring her from the storm of anger, and causing a cluster of horns following hers. the cars are speaking for their agitated drivers. abby sighs as she pulls into your shared driveway. the last thing she wants to hear you say is that you watched the game.
she sees your blurred frame on the couch through the window film of the front door. she sees you jolt up as her keys jingle through the hole, unlocking the door. you sit up drowsily, your nose agitated as you’ve been blowing it through the better half of the week. flu season had captured you as it’s latest victim.
“i saw the game baby,” you say with a raspy throat and nasally voice. abby sighs, and allows her head to hang to the floor. she should’ve known better paying for the extra hulu subscription. of course you’d use it. she’s mentally kicking herself. “you played really good baby,” you tell her sitting half up wrapped up in your favorite blanket.
she snorts, “sure,” she replies sarcastically.
“i’d kiss you better but i’m so sick right now, lovie.” you blow her a ton of kisses with your hands, though your dominant limb clutches an array of crumpled tissues.
she catches them, pulling them to her heart. “you miss one game and you’re stealing all my moves?” she raises her eyebrow at you.
you toss your hand at her dismissively. “i’m allowed,” you say with a playful closed lip smile. 
“one kiss won’t hurt me,” abby rolls her eyes. pressing a soft one on your forehead, and another to the corner of your mouth. “i’ve built up my immune system,” she tells you offhandedly. “ate dirt when i was a kid,” she laughs to herself. bullshit, but, whatever. “so you saw the game?” she fiddles with her thumbs, and avoids eye contact for a minute. when talking about her sport, this was when you’d catch abby at some of her most vulnerable.
“uhuh,” you tell her after catching a sneeze into the corner of your forearm. “‘scuse me,” you mumble.
“you’re ‘scused pretty,” abby replies while waiting for a further in depth answer than ‘uhuh.’
“you did such a good job baby,” you smile at her tiredly. “you shouldn’t beat yourself up too much. you really can’t win them all.”
“that’s insulting,” she smiles at you. “i definitely can. i just need my good luck charm.”
“i don’t do not a thing. it’s all you on the ice abs. don’t give me too much credit,” you say before having a slew of coughs.
“hey,” abby says putting a stern mask in her voice, “don’t pick on my favorite groupie now,” she burst out into laughter.
“i won’t make a habit of it, if you can make me some hot tea. my throat’s killing me.” abby nods her head, kissing your forehead once more and setting the kettle up. who was she to even deny her biggest fan, same one who stayed up late watching her girl’s game on her deathbed? abby’s mean, but not a monster. 
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neuvistar · 10 months
Note
no bc imagine gamer blade with virgin/inexperienced reader 🥹🥹 (im in my gamer blade brainrot rn omg)
INEXPERIENCED.
— featuring ┊gamer ! blade x fem!reader
— warnings / content warnings ┊all consensual btw! not proofread cuz i’m a lazy bum, virgin!reader obvi.. blade referred 2 as “yingxing” bladie being all gentle with u but then it goes wrong (he loses 2 his demons), mating press, overall suggestive content. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
— a/n ┊oooo ngl i lowkey feel like he would also be a virgin, like it’s his first time too but he knows more than u do, ykwim? (this has been rotting in my drafts for awhile here u go!!)
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honestly.. it’s not like you were experienced in this sort of thing.. and it’s not like you were thinking about doing this kind of thing when you’re ready, you had knowledge about it but you weren’t told that it was gonna probably gonna hurt for the first time?!
here you were, hands gripping at the sheets from beneath your sweating frame.. trying your absolute best not to squeeze and clench around blade’s cock that was carefully buried deep inside your drenched cunt, it’s not like you weren’t enjoying it.. you loved it. you absolutely love the fact that it fits just right, filling you up only a few inches deep! he was not even barely in and you were already moaning out his name, nuzzling your nose against the flesh of his neck to hide the blush that crossed your face. it was embarrassing really, atleast that’s what you thought. you were inexperienced and blade knew that, he said he was as well but you didn’t quite understand just why and how he’s so good with using his dick, you didn’t know if he did this sort of thing before and he was lying or he watched played or watched some.. pornographic film, you didn’t even know! you were so deep in thought that you almost didn’t even feel the pain of him fully sliding himself into you so easily, forcing a choked moan from your throat.
out of reflex almost, your pussy pulsed around his cock.. the walls of your insides pulling him in even closer as blade threw his head back at the sudden movement, fighting the urge to thrust into you completely and break you tonight, but that’s not happening.. no.. not tonight at least. blade wanted to take it slow with you, be sweet.. but the way you were clenching around him made it more difficult to control those urges. “e—easy sweetheart, eaasy.. yeah that’s it..” his voice sent a line of electricity through your body, making you jolt. aeons, he really knew how to use his cock.. he knew how to use it pretty well and he knew how to show you just how good he can use it.
“yingxing.. y—yingxing ‘s too much already.. dunno if i can take it..” you whined to him, clutching tight on the cotton black shirt he always wore until your knuckles turned white, squeezing your eyes shut when you finally feel his cock sliding in and out of you, his thrusts were slow and sweet.. passionate and full of love. but yet, it was your first time and you had such a tough time trying to accommodate his length.. it’s like you could feel tears forming from the ends of your eyes already from how good it felt, yet it hurt like a bitch. you didn’t know if your tears were from the pleasure or pain, but it’s safe to say it was from both.
“you can take it, big girl. i know you can. c’mon, keep going.. you got this.” he praised, well that was a surprise. blade had his hands on your knees to help your legs spread out more, letting the cold air brush against your soaked pussy as you whined again, he bit down on your shoulder to try and restrain himself from ruining you for the night. sweat trailed down all over your body from how hot it was, blade could almost feel like his body was melting and burning from the heat of the moment, running his fingers through his hair as he looked down at you with a dangerous stare. that sight.. that sight of you beneath him.. how sweat dripped down all over your body, how your breasts were slightly bouncing from the impact of his gentle thrusts, how sweet you sounded every time you whispered “yingxing..” under your breath, how you had your hand on your mouth to prevent you from making any more noises.. oh how he stretched your poor pussy out from his cock alone, how lewd the sounds of squelching were.. it drove him crazy.
well, you weren’t wrong when you thought about how good he was with his cock! and there, blade lost control as his slow passionate thrusts became more quickened and desperate ones, his grunts growing louder the more he slammed himself into you, tightening his grip around your knees. “yingxing..?—“ “sorry.. i need this.. i need this now, angel. i’m sorry— ah..” was all he mumbled before his dick practically hit every spot inside your walls, you could’ve sworn you could feel your eyes gouging out of your eye sockets as his pace quickened further, grabbing ahold of your knees and forcefully pinning them against your chest, keeping them in place as he proceeded to dick you down, the sound of creaking from the bed increasing as well as your moans and the noise of skin slapping against each other, fuck.. he was getting more and more desperate the more he fucked his dick into you, egging you on to take more of his length and girth.
“fuck fuck fuck.. yingxing please!” your voice was muffled against him, wrapping your arms around his neck as blade bullied his cock deeper and deeper into your cunt, his tongue flicking against the skin of your neck as his fingers gently squeezed your breast. “mm.. does that feel good?" blade asked softly, his tone now filled with lust. “yeah.. more? you want more? i’ll fucking give you more..”
blade was completely out of it now.. squeezing you in a mating press as he pushed your knees further down your chest, the new position allowed his dick to access your deepest areas.. the pain soon disappearing as it was replaced with pure pleasure and euphoria, the euphoric feeling deep within your veins.. that euphoric feeling of how good he was fucking ypu to oblivion. “don’t squeeze around me like that.. you’re gonna make me cum, [name].. i can’t—“ blade bit his lip as he grabbed your knees, pinning them even further as he pounded inside your aching pussy, the position could make him come alone from how flexible you were.. damn. “yingxing!” the way you said his name, the way his named rolled so gently off your tongue, your teary eyed expression.. he wanted to see even more of it.
honestly.. you were inexperienced but you don’t think that.. you were inexperienced enough to take his cock. you knew damn well that night.. you took him like it was nothing.
perhaps.. maybe you can do it again more often?
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shiny-jr · 10 months
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Get you a guy with thighs bigger than yours.
- Warning: Gender-neutral reader. 
- Characters: König.
- Summary: Thick thighs do not save lives.
- Note: This came about because I was just talking crazy in the dms with a mutual. I originally wasn't going to ever let this see the light of day, but then I decided, why the hell not? If I get smacked with delayed embarrassment, I'll just delete. Yeah, I know this isn't what I usually write and post, but oh well. Anyways, after this, we will be back to our regular scheduled content shortly. Oh, and sorry for minor mistakes, I wrote this like at midnight.
. . .
You decided to put a movie on. Just for a distraction. After about an hour into the movie, the leather couch got a bit uncomfortable since it stuck to your skin. So you slunk down to the floor, bringing a pillow or two down with you to use in case extra comfort was needed. The movie was beginning to lose your attention, but you still watched the screen attentively as if you were still focused on the film's plot.
What ended up catching your attention, was the slight shifting couch. Well, slight probably wasn't the correct word, as the movement was anything but light. It was safe to assume the shifting was from a guy who was well over 200 Ibs and a few inches short of 7 ft, although you didn't know the exact numbers because you never wanted to ask König outright.
It was easier to hear the movement, as the large figure scoot a few inches over. Instead of sitting beside you like he was a few seconds earlier, he had not so discreetly moved to take your vacant spot and sit directly behind you. He tried to stay quiet, he really did, but it wasn't so easy for him given his size. At the very least, he treaded carefully, not bumping your back once with his legs or accidentally knocking the back of your skull with his kneecaps.
You didn't move, but your eyes slowly glanced downward, where you could see the tip of his boots. Custom made, as most department stores didn't carry anything in his size. Most articles of clothing he had were custom-made or bought in special stores, save for that odd black diy mask he often wore over his head like a hood to hide himself from the world. Too afraid to lean back and accidentally make contact and disturb this fragile peace, you remain still despite the slight ache in your lower back that make you want to lean back and stretch. But you don't. All you could do was try to revert your attention back to the movie and not think any unholy thoughts, that is, until you heard more movement.
To not bump his knees against you, Konig spread his legs a bit and leaned down. The edges of his homemade cloth mask brushed against your back as you stiffened up, and you could make out the shape of his head beside yours as he whispered, "Do you, uh, want some...?"
Yes. "What???"
"Popcorn? Do you want some popcorn...??"
Oh.
After deciding whether or not you'd accept his offer, silence ensued, only fueled by the movie playing on the television. You weren't gonna lie, you have no idea what the hell was going on in the story anymore. A solid minute passed when he spoke again, sounding just as unsure as the first time. He spoke, as if whatever thoughts he had on his mind earlier where left to simmer for long enough.
"Scheiße. Sorry, should I have not moved here...? You can still lean back if you want?"
"Oh, okay... I, um, I'll do that."
Your back was starting to ache a little from sitting up without support, so, feeling just as awkward as he was feeling, you leaned your back against the couch. Instantly, as soon as you did that, your peripheral vision was covered by his knees and part of his legs. The movie was pretty much pointless now, as you were currently wondering whether you should thank whatever gods existed or curse them for the fact that König did not have shorts on. Even without shorts and with specially fitted cargo pants, they could not conceal the insane bulk of his legs. Especially his thighs. Good lord. The two pillows you brought down before from the couch were essentially useless now because on each side of your head were his limbs that rivaled the best of My Pillow.
Think of something else, anything else, is what you tried to tell yourself.
That idea would go out the window as soon as you felt something in your hair. Carefully twisting a few strands, you felt some thick and calloused fingers gently try and feel the texture of your hair. But it lasted only for a brief second, as he immediately pulled his hands away and murmured a tiny bit louder from his whisper earlier, "Ah, sorry, I should've asked first. I should not have done that. I am sorry––"
"It's okay, I... don't mind." You shrugged it off, and much to your surprise and contentment, he continued.
The first few seconds had a bit more hesitancy, but as time ticked by, seconds turned to minutes, his boldness increased. It started with his large hands carefully feeling the texture of your hair, then it became slow brush strokes as his thick fingers ever-so-carefully untangled knots in your stands of hair. Until eventually it escalated, and he gathered the courage to do something so bold as to scratch your skull. He could easily take your entire face in one hand and crush your skull, but he didn't. There was no sign of any such roughness. Instead, his fingers and nails continued to comb through your hair, lightly scratching your scalp. At first when he did this, he paused, and waited for any objections or signals of a negative reaction, but after no such thing, he continued and seemed pleased.
It was after about five-minutes and heavy mental debating in your mind that you decided to suck it up and go for it. What's the worst that could happen? Honestly, you didn't even expect to make it this far.
So, after taking in a breath, you let your head fall to the side. It wasn't like those romantic scenes where you watch the character lean their head against a love interest's shoulder. Oh no, you were skipping that part, your ear landed right on his thigh. Which was probably due to the cushion you placed underneath you on the floor that elevated you a few extra inches, or else you might've missed. In that moment, right as the side of your head landed on its intended target, you felt him freeze. His fingers stopping, nails still on your scalp. A second passed, then two, then three, like time froze.
You were almost tempted to pry yourself off and apologize, but you really didn't want to. But you had to ask. "Is this alright...?"
"J-Ja... I mean, yes..."
Your eyes widened, and you were sure you had on some goofy kinda grin but at least you weren't facing him so he couldn't tell. Once you heard his response, your shoulders slumped, relieved of tension you didn't even know you were carrying.
Even with your head against his thigh that wasn't plush but was still definitely comfortable, you realize you were no better than a man as you resisted the urge to just reach out and squeeze his other thigh that had gotten closer without you even realizing it. You had to dig your nails into your knee to prevent yourself from acting on impulse.
It was definitely almost pure muscle from what you could tell with your head on one of them. Firm but somehow still soft. Thick thighs, in fact, do not save lives, because these thighs have ended who knows how many between them in finishing moves on the battlefield. Lucky bastards. Trying your luck agian, you place a shaky hand on his other thigh, but he didn't react. A good sign? Possibly?
Forget goth gfs and thick plush thighs, apparently giant anxious austrian soldiers with thighs as thick as tree trunks and strong enough to obliterate skulls like melons were the new fad.
Movie totally forgotten, your vision was entirely covered when König leaned down a bit from his spot on the couch and you tilted your head to look up and meet his gaze. The masked man stared at you, his blue eyes peering down at you through the two small slits cut into his mask for his eyes to see. His mask partially dangled, but not fully, so not revealing himself to you. When your gaze traveled away, abruptly his thighs got closer, squishing your cheeks and the sides of your face but not enough to hurt. Just a bit of pressure to get you to look up again.
Oh god.
There was literally no space between your face and his legs anymore, and your arms instinctively went to the outer side of his thighs to try and pry them apart a bit. You didn't try much, maybe because you enjoyed it or because you didn't exactly have strength strong enough to rival his, so all you could do was clutch the pockets of his cargo pants that were just above his knees, your nails digging in softly just to get a quick feel.
Once he saw he had your attention again after he applied a bit of pressure, he cocked his head to the side and continued to look down at you through half-lidded eyes darkened by the shadow of his hood. Then he spoke, but this time with no apprehension in his quiet tone.
"You do know I've ruined others that were in a similar position to what you are in right now?"
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seattlesellie · 1 year
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i truly cant stop thinking about this with college!ellie it really hurts my head oh god 💓
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————— ୨୧ —————
☁️ chilling in her dorm room brightly lit only by led lights (we know ellie isn’t exactly a trend follower, but she somehow managed to find herself purchasing some led strings due to someone saying that fucking with red lighting… hits different.) it starts with just laying around in bed, watching sci-fi (today was ellie’s turn to pick) and eating some cup of noodles or cold pizza (ellie listens and pretends to agree with your complains over cheap food, and how hard it is being a college student and having like no money, but she secretly loves extremely processed meals… she just agrees cause she’s a simp)
☁️ obviously, her hands starts to creep up your thigh mid-film (shes seen it already, she’s not missing out on anything) she just caresses and caresses, trailing little circles whilst your head is laying pretty on her chest, listening to her soft little breaths (♡), trying to focus on the movie, but not exactly being able to because she keeps squeezing your upper thigh whenever you remark something about the film…
☁️ “is he gonna die at the end? i hope he doesn’t die” you ask, snuggling closer and moving your head towards her neck. “not… gonna spoil it babe” she huffs, and grabs your thigh. you let out a little squeak, because she may have pinched it a little too hard, so she tries to hide the curl forming on her lips; “am i distracting you?”, you obviously protest, and she whispers in your ear “good, keep watching then”
☁️ truthfully, ellie finds the way youre laying up against her way too distracting herself, she truly can’t focus on anything else but the sensation of having your cheek pressed up against her chest and your thigh spread out on her own… so she decides to stop playing, or for you— start playing, so she plants little kisses on your head and on your forehead, moving down to nibble at your ear. your breath hitches, and she asks again… “am i really… not distracting you at all?”
☁️ at one point, her arm moves up to your ass, caressing it in agonizingly slow circles. you somehow managed to completely miss out on three whole minutes of the flick, the one guy you thought might die probably died already, or maybe not— you really couldn’t care less, but you’re on a mission. you’re not going to give into her that easy… but mind you— ellie loves a challenge.
☁️ she slips her hand inside your panties, and you nearly go cross eyed at the sensation of her palm laying down on your core. “what are you doing?” you ask, and it escapes your mouth sounding like a half broken, shaky whisper. “just… warming up my hand… its cold— m’cold.” you almost give in completely, and its so difficult not to start grinding up on her hand and keep those whimpers caged in your throat, but luckily for you ellie doesn’t move her hand. she just lets it lay there. who will break first? you, or her?
☁️ “if you’re that cold… there’s an extra blanket— look” you signal towards the green, soft cotton blanket laying unused on the side of the bed. “nope” she says in a low tone. “you’re warming me up just fine… now keep watchin’, best parts coming up”
☁️ it goes on like this for a while, ellie telling you to “keep your eyes on the screen, babe” “gonna hurt me if you wont pay attention to my favorite fucking movie”, and it starts aching and aching and you cant keep it together anymore, so you pull her in to a wet, drooling, tongue twisting kiss. “knew you were fucking distracted”
☁️ when she pulls out the strap from her bedside table, its only a matter of two seconds till she’s deep inside of your cunt. she puts you in missionary, slapping your ass as she lays you down, you moan something so fucking muffled because she didn’t even give you time to fully adjust to the purple silicone toys size, and then completely stops. “nuh uh— you’re riding me” she grunts, “let’s go— get on fucking top and start riding”
☁️ even though she’s the one who flips you over and plunges you deep inside her cock, she demands you to do all the work. “show me how fucking bad you need it” you start squirming around her, jumping up and down with your tits bouncing, she grabs them both forcefully; “atta fucking girl” you bounce faster and faster, screaming her name and she stares hypnotized, marveling at how well her girl is taking her and doing it all on her fucking own. “taking me so fucking good—“ & it rubs on her clit so hard she almost drools on herself, and hisses “fuck yourself on my cock j—fuck… just like that, good fucking girl”
☁️ you cant take it anymore, and you start seeing complete, pure whiteness in your eyes, so you… break, and beg; “fuck me” she smirks, looking absolutely ravenous and desperate, “wan’ me to fuck you? beg for it”, so you plead, and plead, and plead for her to fuck you in her ear “please please fuck me ellie…”, it comes out so whiny and pathetic and she could never, ever say no to that.
☁️ she separates your asscheeks, peeling them apart, and starts fucking into your cunt fervently, with just short circuited breaths escaping her mouth, constant praises ringing in your ears “you like that? you fucking like that?” and oooooh, god—
how are you ever going to finish watching a whole movie with her.
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auckie · 1 month
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I think the things that offend me most nowadays in like, smaller interpersonal interactions rather than grand, sweeping trends in culture, are when people chose to not partake in a wide set of things. Like musical close mindedness, or refusal to try different foods from different cultures. Not watching an entire subset of films bc they’re ‘french’. Avoiding reading bc you say you have adhd and it’s too hard. Like dude I get it, I’m busy. I can be picky. Everyone can. But the willful ignorance of closing yourself off to those VAST portions of the human experience, and not having curiosity and a lust to learn and explore art that was made by someone worlds apart from you either in terms of their culture, era, whatever. I dunno man it just pisses me off so bad. I think it’s arrogant. Like oh you’re comfortable in your safe little bubble huh? And you’re enforcing its barriers with the excuse that you’re autistic and have sensory issues. With music made by black people?? lol okay. It is pretty presumptuous for me to assume malicious intent but I think those prejudices are borne from either the comfort of being someone who’s wealthy and probably white not feeling the need to learn past what they think is enough, or it’s a reflection of a society that’s taught you to prioritize what it shills— popular, current (white, depending where you live ig) artists who are making streamlined, easy to digest content. Often when I meet people with these issues they’ll have one particular ‘niche’, and it tends to be like. 70s music. Victorian literature. Anime and Japanese games. But they’re still not really investing beyond the media presented. Like there’s so much more to Japanese culture than liking some cartoons put out between 2010-2020. You don’t gotta become some sorta Einstein who learns the background of every little freak in FGO yeah. But don’t you wanna aim higher? Aren’t you interested in any of the historical figures? And nothings wrong with hopping onto a trend. You read Dracula bc of that Dracula daily thing. Cool! Read more. Some people will say they’re chronically ill or disabled and can’t get outside. That’s okay. The internet is full of things you can read other than fanfiction, YouTube has a shit ton of free music. There’s Wikipedia and free articles online if you have questions about things. Yeah nobody is spending four hours a day looking at the national archives website and studying art history but it’s imbued in the things around you, and youll absorb it ambiently as you go along. you dont have to be a jack of all trades and cover every major genre of every major medium, but it never hurts to try! I really love seeing ppl ask too. Bc it can be kind of humiliating to admit to what seems like some jackass hipster that you’ve never delved into, idk, Serbian films (lol not that one). And hopefully if whoever you’re asking will give you honest good recommendations and not berate you. I’m kind of berate a straw man rn I guess. The hostile tone def doesn’t lend to an atmosphere of sharing but I cannot tell you how many times I’ve rbed anything involving specifically jazz only to see someone rb and add the stupidest comment on the post, or in the tags, or go into my inbox to be like waaah I don’t like jazz bc it’s boring and old and for pretentious hypocrites who hate neurodivergent people! Like what are you TALKING about. Fine if you don’t like it but don’t try and rationalize that as a moral standing you shit lark. And just as they’re allowed to dislike jazz I’m allowed to not really enjoy people who don’t like jazz. Or country. Nautical knots. Knit wear. Watching urbex YouTubers get their shit rocked by squatters. Korean food. Pachuco fashion and stupid ugly low riders. Bollywood films. and they don’t want to try any of those things either yknow? The next thing I’m getting into is circuit bending.
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binsito · 9 months
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disk 2.0
part one is here!
pairing: bf!bang chan x fem reader x perv!changbin
word count: 3.0k (my longest fic this far AGhhh)
synopsis: changbin knows he should return what he wrongfully stole but he can't help but want to steal another one of chris' cds..
rating: mature, includes: unprotected sex, swearing, usage of the word "cockslut", "daddy", "babygirl", "good girl", "princess", "sweetie", mentions of masturbating, some fingering (f receiving), mentions of alcohol and consumption (they just crack open a cold one), little bit of oral (f & m receiving), breeding, chan is sharing his gf with changbin, filming/usage of a camera, voyeurism/exhibitionism dynamics, cuckolding lowkey??, degradation, humiliation, shame.. i think that's it but idk man they be fuckin!
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put the cd back.
simple.
that's all changbin had to do.
put the cd back and act like nothing ever happened, like he didn't watch chris fuck the shit out of his girlfriend.
like he didn't see her puffy cunt ooze with his cum, like he didn't hear the pretty moans she let out for her "daddy", like he didn't see chris bring his heavy hand to her ass cheek, marking her so prettily as he pumped into her from behind with his thick cock.
chris would never know a thing, would never even notice the cd was gone in the first place, changbin was going to toss it back where he found it and take this little secret with him to the grave.
it seemed so easy.
it almost made changbin giggle how fucking effortless it was going to be.
absolutely fool-proof.
he was getting away with such a sneaky little deed, if it was this easy, why didn't he just take another? channie had so many.. he had probably forgotten about them anyways.. they were thrown in a box so carelessly, for god's sake. it wouldn't hurt to just take another..
he had to control the twitching in his cock as he walked into chris' apartment, disk buried in the pouch of his hoodie as he greeted his friend.
he welcomed him in so casually and changbin couldn't help but stiffen in his pants, tugging his hoodie down discreetly to hide his growing erection.
however, as he carried a conversation with his friend, he felt ashamed, guilt washing over him at all the dirty things he had thought about chris and his girlfriend. he knew he shouldn't take another cd, he should leave them as is and never pull that stunt again but he was far too gone, wasn't he?
if he was going to be a pervert, might as well commit to it, right? he already had his mind set on taking another one, had already imagined what could possibly be on another video and he would be incredibly disappointed if he backed out last minute like a wimp.
so as they started moving the last couple of boxes, changbin was bubbling with excitement knowing he would soon have the opportunity to nab another cd as soon as chris would turn away and give him a second alone.
a second was all he needed.
he wasn't going to be picky, any of the cds from chris' collection would make changbin a very, very happy man.
he would be content with whatever he could get, anything would do.
when chris tells him he's going to the bathroom real quick, changbin has to act like he's not fucking elated, like he almost didn't jump up and cheer.
he had to be cool.
had to be quick.
discreet.
sneaky.
he waited until chris was out of sight and quickly started looking for the box, however much to his dismay, it was no longer among the other boxes.
it was gone.
chris had probably packed it up already on his own, maybe it was in the truck, maybe he had given them over to his girlfriend?
changbin felt like he could collapse.
his excitement fizzling down to disappointment and frustration.
at least he could keep and rewatch the one he already had but he was just so greedy, he wanted to be nosey and see what else chris was hiding.
dammit. he thought angrily, he was so close, fingertips grazing his sweet little prize only to have it ripped from his hands.
he could cry.
he tried pretending like everything was alright once chris was back, helping him continue to load up the truck and carry all his music equipment safely.
a smile on his face as he chatted with chris while he was internally screaming, wishing chan had left the box out again like he previously had.
"bin, you should come over once i settle in to check out the new place yeah? i'll cook, i know you won't turn that down." chris giggles changbin smiled and nodded "of course man, i'd love to come over." "perfect, next friday yeah? it'll motivate me to actually unpack and get shit organized for a guest."
"sounds good, i'll be there."
--
but what changbin hadn't expected when he came over that friday was for chris to have company.
his pretty girlfriend sitting on the couch with a smile.
you greeted him and gestured for him to sit down. "welcome! how are you? i haven't seen you since that trip we all took over the summer."
changbin tried pushing down any thoughts he was having about you, how pretty you sound talking to him, how much prettier you would sound gagging on some cock.
his cock, preferably.
but you were chris' girlfriend so that would be off limits.
you kept a steady conversation with him as chris came back out from the kitchen, smiling and handing changbin a beer.
"how's the place? you like it? she helped me clean up nicely, got rid of all that dust and shit" he sat next to you, arm around you as he sipped his own beer.
"yeah the place looks great, chris. congrats." changbin smiled at his friend.
"hope you're hungry, we made some delicious pasta from scratch."
"we?" you spoke up and giggled
chan just laughed, knowing he tried to help but just made a mess so instead you had him wash dishes.
"dinner should be ready in about an hour. i prepared dessert too" you spoke up "oh thank you, i knew chan wasn't going to be the one fixing us a meal" changbin joked.
"he's getting better, no more burnt chicken. just needs to clean up after himself and be more careful"
chris just smiled and kissed your forehead softly, he loved you so much. you made him incredibly happy and he loved showing his affection towards you openly, especially around other people.
changbin was no exception.
"baby why don't we put on a movie or something while we wait?" "oh, sure!" you wiggled out of his grip and walked over to the tv, grabbing the remote to turn it on
"i think you'll like this movie bin, not sure if you've seen it yet" chris said
"what movie is it?" he asked but chris just smiled at him, letting the video buffer as you took your seat next to him again.
the video loaded and changbin's eyes widen as soon as he saw what was on the screen. beer almost spilling all over him as he watched you in pretty lingerie that had been carelessly ripped by chris, sprawled out for the camera to take in your wet folds, chris tracing them with a finger as he chuckled behind the camera.
"c-chris- i think- i don't think-" changbin didn't even know what to say, quickly covering his eyes with his one free hand. was chris doing this on purpose? was it an accident? he shouldn't feel turned on, pressing his legs together in hopes to tame the angry boner he had sprung.
"open your eyes binnie.. don't be shy now." chris spoke, his tone strong and a little condescending
"at least tell us if the cd you stole was good.. was it good, binnie? did you cum to it? you must've.. i saw you waiting for me to leave to take another. i hid the box before you came over though.. wanted to catch you. i knew i wasn't crazy when i saw one missing." he giggled so nonchalantly, the humiliation of being caught making changbin's cock pathetically rush with blood.
"channie told me what you did.. so cute.. come on binnie.. tell us how it felt?"
the video played in the background, sounds of your pretty moans filling the silence while changbin struggled to find words to speak.
"i-i'm sorry.." he said weakly "i-i really am i thought it was music b-but it wasn't.. i c-couldn't stop watching.. f-fuck it was just so hot.. i-i'm sorry-"
"don't be sorry, binnie.. you liked it right? hm?" you asked him, smile on your face that was making him squirm in his seat. his eyes shifting from you on the screen full of cock, to you in front of him, crawling into chris' lap. your eyes not leaving changbin's, his mouth salivating at the sight in front of him.
chris gripped a fistful of your ass as he kissed your neck. "you gonna put on a show for our guest babygirl?" chris mumbled into your skin, kneading your ass gently
"you're so sweet baby.. always so welcoming hm? good girl. daddy likes it when you're nice to his friends."
changbin felt his mouth go dry, hands shaking in his lap as he shamefully watched how chris sloppily made out with you in front of him. low grunts leaving his friend's pretty lips as you rubbed down on him.
"come closer binnie.. come look.." you beckoned him over, his feet moving faster than his brain could, quickly leaving behind the alcohol his friend had kindly offered him. he sat right next to the two of you, watching how chris expertly took your shirt off. he wondered how often you two had sex.. a lot right? given by the collection you two had curated.. chris seemed very knowledgeable and quick with his actions, almost as if it was muscle memory. like he trained himself to be able to handle you, like he trained you to be so good and perfect for his cock.
changbin's brain was so fuzzy, eyes scanning your body as chris discarded your clothes, before he knew it you were only in your panties. chris sucking eagerly on your tits while his hands played with the waistband of your underwear.
changbin was dying for a taste, wanted to touch how soft your skin was, wanted to give you goosebumps and tug on your hair and spank you until you cried out for him to stop.
chris had bent you over his lap, ass in changbin's direction so he could get a clear view. pulling your underwear aside so he could see your cunt on display. "see this, bin? she's always so fucking wet. she touched herself when i told her about what you did. came all over her own fingers.. heard her moan your name."
chris held your asscheeks open so changbin could see your pretty hole clenching around nothing "she's a bit of a cockslut.. but nothing i can't handle. look how easy she takes this.."
with that, he pressed two fingers in, your cunt sucking him in just how he knew it would. he pumped them a few times before bringing them out slowly, letting changbin see the slick coating his fingers
"here.. taste. it's the sweetest pussy you'll ever have." chris said as he held out his fingers for changbin to take.
all pride aside, changbin leaned in and took chris' fingers in his mouth, rolling his eyes back at the taste and humming. "good right? told ya so.. such a perfect cunt.." he emphasized his statement with a harsh spank. you whined as you felt chris pull you off his lap in order for him to get undressed. he threw his shirt off and pulled his pants along with his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free.
"can you show binnie how you good you ride daddy's cock, babygirl?"
he didn't have to tell you twice, quickly clambering into his lap again as you lined him up with your aching hole. you pressed down inch by inch, feeling the nice stretch of his cock. changbin's cock was growing impatient, he needed to feel some type of relief even if it was just his fingers. he began tugging his pants down to fist his cock, whimpering at the feeling of finally getting some friction.
"you better not fucking cum, changbin." chris scolded
changbin quickly dropped his hand, not wanting to anger his friend and make him stop.
instead he focused on the pace you had set on chris' cock, how your tits bounced with every movement, the concentrated look on your face and the way you bit your lip whenever you hit a spot that felt so good. the way you dug your fingers into chris' shoulders, how he guided you with his rough hands, his curly hair beginning to stick to his forehead.
all that alone could make changbin cum untouched.
chris trailed a hand down to where you connected, rubbing your clit to help you build up an orgasm, his other hand reached for your hair as he tugged your head back, barring your neck for him to leave a love bite.
the room echoed with noises from the video that was still playing in the background alongside your sweet whimpers as chris worked you up.
all music to changbin's ears.
it was too much for you, having chris touch you and changbin watching you come apart, your orgasm ripping through you as you chanted chris' name.
you tried collecting yourself, calming your breathing as you pulled off chris' cock but your legs felt like jelly so he helped you and gently set you besides him.
he had stood up and opened up a drawer underneath the tv, pulling out his camera and setting it on the table in front of everyone. "hope you aren't camera shy, binnie." he teased
--
once chris had finally set up the camera exactly how he wanted, he decided it was finally time to let changbin have a turn. he was his guest after all and chris always made sure his guests were comfortable and taken care of in his home.
"how do you want me binnie? tell me, sweetie.. i wanna please you.." you purred
you'd be lying if you said you weren't excited to have him inside, his cock looked delicious.. thick and so hard.. poor thing must've been struggling, his cock throbbing for attention. chris could be such a meanie.
"c-can.. can i.. taste you? want you on my face.." he said shyly
you tugged him down on the couch, having him lay beneath you as you positioned yourself on his face, caging him in.
as soon as his eyes met your pretty cunt, he was gone.
all the shame and humiliation he once felt (even if it had turned him on so badly), had completely vanished.
he was hungry.
he held you open, licking up a long strip up your cunt before he began to suck on your clit.
he was making you shake, arms feeling so wobbly as you held on to his thighs to prevent yourself from toppling over.
"oh god channie.. he's so good with is tongue.." you whimpered, kicking your head back as you let out a whiny moan.
"i think he likes the dessert you prepared for him, princess." chris teased.
you leaned forward to take changbin's tip in your mouth, sucking just harsh enough for him to buck his hips up at the pressure.
chris grabbed the camera and brought it towards you, filming the way you began to bob your head on changbin's cock. he gripped you by the hair and tugged you off, spit connecting you the the tip of changbin's cock.
"you like being a slut with binnie? like having fun with two cocks?"
you could barely even answer as you felt changbin working you up to your second orgasm, chris gripped your hair tighter to make you focus.
"can't even fucking think straight.. so damn cock hungry.." he spat
"binnie, why don't you give her what she wants hm? why don't you you fuck her nice and dumb for me?"
he pulled away from your sopping cunt, giving you a few hasty licks before chan set down the camera, grabbing you and positioning you on your hands and knees over the arm rest.
"she's all yours, binnie. take good care of that cunt for me."
chris watched as changbin lined himself up, gripping on to your hips as he rubbed his tip against your folds.
your back arched when you felt him breech your hole, his thick cock easily pushing its way inside of you, pressing so deeply it kissed your sweet spot perfectly. you felt so fucking full of him already and you were glad he was going to put that fat cock of his to good use.
he had to concentrate hard to not bust right away, your cunt wrapping around his length so good, he thought he was seeing stars.
he set a steady pace, breathing heavily as he watched his cock sink in and out of you, a ring of cream forming against his base.
"fucking like bunnies.. so cute.." chan groaned as he stroked himself to the sight of his girlfriend being treated so nicely by changbin.
"s-shit.. chris.. where do you want me to cum? i-i think i might soon.." changbin whimpered
"keep it inside of her.'
changbin swore he was having another vivid wet dream.
inside?
chris wanted him to cum inside his girlfriend?
chris wanted him to fill her with his seed?
breed her and leave her stuffed full of him?
changbin closed his eyes tightly, it didn't matter how hard he tried to clear his head and focus, he was a weak, weak man.
"i'm close too, binnie.. touch me.. wanna cum with you.." you pleaded.
he took a shaky breath as he pressed his chest flush against your back, allowing him easier access to reach over and rub your clit.
his thrusts becoming sloppy as he bit into your shoulder to ground himself. he could feel you clenching on him, consistent moans leaving your lips as you got closer and closer to your peak.
it wasn't long before you turned into putty underneath him, cumming with his name on your tongue which was enough to make him shoot out as well. he kept still making sure every drop seeped into you and did not got to waste.
he kissed your shoulder gently before he carefully pulled out as to not spill on chris' couch.
"stay still babygirl.. daddy wants to fuck binnie's cum into you. make sure it stays in you real good, kay?"
this would not be the last time changbin would make a cameo in chris' homemade sex tapes.
unfortunately, it came at the expense of dinner being ruined that night due to negligence. blame it on changbin and his horny antics.
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please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito
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amamisa · 2 months
Text
SIXTY-FOUR EQUALS SIXTY-FIVE!
RANPO EDOGAWA ⋮ BUNGO STRAY DOGS
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premise. ranpo loves to give you all sorts of little riddles, but this one might have you stumped the most out of all of them.
story notes! fem!reader. fluff! reader works as part of the ADA office staff. animated dividers by @/cafekitsune!
love, misa ‹3 if you know what the title is referencing, ily! also, reblogs, comments and interactions are vrie appreciated!
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“. . . Pardon?”
Ranpo looks to you with a pointedly smug grin playing on his face, hands relaxedly folded behind his head as he leans back in the ADA office’s chair. It creaks beneath him as he plants his feet atop the mahogany desk and swivels around slowly, a sign that you should probably get the seat oiled soon.
“It’s simple, is it not?” He asks and you slowly shake your head no, mouth slightly agape when he starts to sigh, repeating his prior statement.
“Sixty-four equals sixty-five, and that’s that!”
You blink a few times, hoping that the information sinks in a little more inside of your beain just long enough that you can even begin to process whatever he means.
The words play back in your mind like an old VHS tape, abruptly coming to a halt when you can’t fall into a proper, conclusive or logical answer that would make sense in any normal situation.
“That’s . . . false,” you begin to argue, albeit a bit unsurely as you have no idea what to even say in the moment. Your mouth moves faster than your brain as you tell him the only logical thing you can think of.
“If sixty-four equalled sixty-five than it would be sixty-five and not sixty-four.”
Ranpo lets out a laugh, only telling you that “You’re wrong,” and for a second you look around the ADA office wondering if there were any cameras filming the two of you. You find that the other office clerks are merely seated at their own desks though, watching the spectacle between you and Ranpo go down, and a little amused at your bewilderment.
You’d think that for a man who is labelled as the greatest detective in all of Yokohama (and quite possibly the entire world once you took into account his inherent genius and lack of an ability), that much would make sende for someone like him.
Surely he couldn’t have said a more incorrect statement than that with such confidence in himself.
But no, of course not.
It’s Ranpo you’re dealing with, and he says a lot of odd little phrases and sayings just to mess with your head sometimes. It started since your first day with the ADA, it’s been years now and he’s still going too.
He doesn’t show any signs of stopping soon either.
(“You just look so funny with your face all scrunched up in thought!” He once told you after a particularly difficult riddle that had you stumped for hours on end until the end of the work day, afterwhich you realized the answer was unfathomably easy once he had revealed it to you.
Nobody else in the ADA could’ve gotten it though, so it saved you at least some of your dignity.)
You assume that this must be another one of those cryptic riddles he’s thrown your way, maybe a test to see if you’ve somehow managed to improve from last time. An inkling of hope swells inside your chest, hoping that today is the day you finally manage to answer correctly to one of Ranpo’s mysterious riddles.
Setting down the bowl of candies in your hands on his desk, you stand in thought for a moment, scouring your brain for anything that could relate to the riddle as Ranpo delightedly digs into the newfound treats, appearing blissful to the mental agony he loves to put you through sometimes.
The little dish clinks against his fingernails as he searches through the pile of sweets for his favourites at the bottom, the sound of the plastic unwrapping in tune with the beat of the ticking in your brain while you think over his words from earlier.
He gave no set up, no punch line, no nothing at all. There wasn’t any indistinguishable context to the riddle-like words that you could recall, it was only—
“Sixty-four equals sixty-five . . .” Ranpo hears you mutter underneath your breath, and his lips curl up in delight as he munches on a decadent chocolate truffle, filled with sticky caramel and generous bits of toffee.
The caramel sticks to his teeth, with the toffee clinging to the sides of his tongue and the roof of his mouth as he chews away at the treat, patiently watching while you continue to talk to yourself, still thinking over his words from earlier.
“Could it be a math riddle? No, that’s not possible though if we’re going by technical math terms and rules . . . Maybe something to do with physics? But how could anything simultaneously be sixty-four and sixty-five?”
Ranpo’s mischievous grin only continues to grow as you remain oblivious to his watchful eyes, and his gaze scans over your features, wordlessly taking in your appearance.
Your knitted brows, the way you subconsciously pout your lips whenever you’re in deep thought, your crossed arms, all while unknowingly talking to yourself as you piece together the clues.
Ranpo sees it all as clear as day. And he finds it unbelievably cute.
“Maybe it’s about hex codes from the colour wheel, since one colour can look different depending on the background it’s placed over. It could have less to do with the numbers themselves than the meaning or history behind them—”
“Are you done yet?” You’re brought back to reality by the sound of Ranpo’s voice interrupting your thoughts, head perking up as you’re met with the sight of his nougat stuffed cheeks. All puffed out and full of sugar as he holds back a laugh once he sees how quickly your face softened from it’s previously hardened features.
“You were taking forever to solve that one! And it’s really not that hard to begin with!”
“Speak for yourself,” you scoff, taking one of the chocolates from the bowl and unwrapping it for yourself. The plastic crinkles beneath your fingertips, you stuff the wrapper in your pocket before popping it into your mouth.
The caramel sauce encased in the hard chocolate shell explodes when you crunch down on it, a sweet little victory to make up for the quizzical hurdles you’re put through on a regular basis, courtesy of the man sitting right across from you.
“You’re Yokohama’s greatest detective, it’s obvious that these sorts of riddles come naturally to you,” you wholeheartedly confess, savouring the light cocoa and sweet, subtly coconut flavours that coat your tongue. “I’m not like you, Ranpo. Nobody in the ADA is, what takes us twelve weeks to solve you can answer in twelve seconds.”
“Awee, really?” He giggles, swiping more of the little candies from the bowl on his desk. He seems to have missed the original point entirely by now, as he motions for you to continue, “Go on, tell me more about how great I am!”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes at him, maybe you shouldn’t have gassed him up so much during your little acknowledgement speech. Though with the cases he’s solved in his repertoire, you really can’t argue against that title of his.
“No, you’ve had enough of that from Kunikida and Atsushi just this morning alone.”
A small pout graces Ranpo’s lips as you sigh, ignoring the kicked puppy eyes he gives you while walking back to your desk, continuing to mutter underneath your breath the same words that will probably leave you stumped for the next few days on end.
“Sixty-four equals sixty-five?”
Ranpo cranes his head as he eats away at the rest of his candy stash, watching you immediately turn to one of your co-workers from his own work space to ask them the same question Ranpo gave you, inquiring about any clues they might have as to the answer.
“No, there’s gotta be an answer,” he overhears when your colleague shrugs their shoulders, simply telling you that whatever Ranpo says is probably just a load of gibberish meant to mess with your mind.
“Just— just give me anything you can think of, okay? I’ll solve one of his riddles one day.”
The sight has Ranpo smiling behind the back of his hand, eyes crinkling at the corners with glowing cheeks when you sees you bring out one of your notepads from the desk drawer’s, clicking your pen as you begin to write down any guesses you might have to tell him later.
Truth be told, unlike the rest of the spontaneous mind games Ranpo pulls on you— this one has no actual meaningful answer. At least, not one that you’d understand at the moment if he were to tell you it’s solution.
But despite that looming factor always casting it’s dark shadow onto you, the thought of Ranpo giving you a riddle truly impossible to solve has never really crossed your mind.
Otherwise, you would very easily give up solving them after just a moment of contemplation.
Ranpo’s noticed though that you tend to wallow on them for days at a time unless he comes clean and tells you the answer in it’s entirety, letting his silly and easily misconstrued words stew inside your head during your lunch breaks and slow times at the ADA where you’ll maybe sometimes bound up to him excitedly with a guess as to what you think the answer is.
It’s charming how much thought you put into your solutions, and admittedly you’ve gotten quite close a few times to figuring them out all on your own. Ranpo’s always impressed with whatever you come up with, even if it’s outlandishly ridiculous or nowhere even close to the actual answer itself.
It’s really your explanations and logic behind them that he likes, with some of the ideas you bring up for splutions are those that he hasn’t even thought of beforehand until you ask him if they’re right.
(Sometimes he wants to cut your little game short and just give you the win for once if your guess is creative enough.
But where’s the fun in that?)
He’ll give you more of these up until the day you leave the ADA (though he hopes that’s not anytime soon) if it means he gets to see that delightful little confused but hopeful expression you make while deep in thought.
Your persistence in finding out the answer on your own until you’ve been truly worn out by him is also admirable.
Because while you’re always just a bit confused by all the different riddles, puzzles and play-on-words he hounds on you each day, he finds that you’ve yet to actually reject his proposal to solving them, never even considering walking away from his absurdity unlike with most people he knows if he asked them the same.
He prays it’ll stay that way too.
Otherwise, who else would he have to fawn over in secret?
Ranpo deduces that while you may be clever (anyone who works at the ADA is, it’s basically a requirement when working with ability users such as them), he’s always just a few steps ahead of you.
It’s not an insult towards you on his end in any way either. Your way of thinking is totally different from his own, but he reasons out that he can make arrangements to improving your logical deduction abilities once he finally figures out how to convey his feelings for you.
Properly, and not through a series of complex paradoxes and logic puzzles.
The most complex riddle of them all though that the ADA office staff asks themselves each day while witnessing the two of you has to be:
Whose logical reasoning is really being tested here again? Yours, or Ranpo’s?
The ADA believes that Ranpo should use less of his time giving you intrinsically methodical puzzles and focus more of his energy on realizing his blooming, lovesick crush.
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works © amamisa 2024. no copying or stealing, please!
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ohbabydollie · 2 months
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omg so i’m new here but i currently have brainrot for 2 things
1) being a famous celebrity (sortaaaa like the famous streamer one but more famous) where ur like, an actress or model, things like that. and having a semi-public relationship with schlatt where you’ll be spotted holding hands on occasion, or on a red carpet but not really publicly discussing your relationship (even though everyone knows you’re together), and everyone is either super happy and ships the ever loving shit out of you, or they clown on you a bit and make “who’s punching up” videos and odd comments, and just not giving a fuck and being happy together but kinda wanting to be viewed like any other couple and not just another famous couple to be analyzed. (also similar to mutual break up but you don’t care about hate and stay together)
AND
2) schlatt made a joke about having his cock out in the latest chuckle sandwich episode and….. giving him head under his desk when he films….. for some things, like recordings where he’s not showing his face, it’s easy, but when he has his face out, it’s a bit more challenging. he has to restrain the urge to watch you and moan SOOO bad…. that’s all.
LMAO NONNIE THE FIRST ONE, I HAD TOO
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okay, let’s say you’re a celebrity that is agreed by men, women, etc. to be absolutely stunning
so many people that love you, call you their wife, etc.
you are an absolute style icon, wearing pieces made for you to exclusive red carpet events
even people who hate you have to agree you’ve got a great style in clothes and makeup and yes, you’re iconic, at least a little
then somehow you make your way to the youtube community
people assume from you being so open and sweet and social is how you find yourself starring in a project directed by Ted Nivison
you’re so excited for it, interacting with other creators, etc.
Jschlatt knows of you, but thinks you’re probably like all those LA stuck up influencers that managed to make enough connections to get what you wanted
but when he has his first interaction with you on twitter??
he’s taking the chance to flirt with you publicly
in any way shape or form
and is so public about his crush on you to the point everyone is convinced he runs a stan account for you
you both do get closer behind the scenes but don’t tell much people about it
especially considering his jokes that people love taking seriously and out of context
you both are pretty secretive about it, super down low about it until the day he decides to pay for your nails
a small j is on the underside of your ring finger as to not show it off too much
it can’t even be seen unless it’s up close
then someone points it out on twitter in a selfie
you say it was dirt, but they know what they saw
then the paparazzi comes in and takes a photo that goes viral of you in sweats and a suspiciously familiar wilson hoodie
you say it a coincidence over and over again but the evidence is undeniable when you post multiple selfies in familiar hoodies that look just a little too large for you
small scratches and bite marks on your arms but you never mentioned getting a cat
then you appear in a chuckle sandwich interview
but the vibe is different in that video compared to the rest with guests
schlatt is polite??? and listening to you??
he looks at you with so much affection
yeah, your team does damage control and quickly
claiming that you’re currently single and focused on your career
then you fuck up on your own
a misclick on a story made for your close friends of you kissing your boyfriend’s cheek as he has the biggest smile ever plastered on his face
oh well, too late to deny anymore
so you don’t say anything until your next red carpet event where he’s essentially your accessory
like arm candy and dressed to match you
then everyone definitely knows
and let me tell you, some stans are sobbing
lots of “i waited 3 1/2 years, white man did it in one week” from fans and other celebrities
punching the air too
lots of crying and audios after they realize you’re dating him fr fr and not them
people definitely make memes out of it
goddess s/o and bf they probably found digging around in the trash and probably has rabies
yk that one meme of shining armor and princess cadence?
yeah, that + other attractive partner and their silly bf
so so so many of those “do you think we’re…in another universe?” slides
they clip any time he talks about you and use it for edits
editing characters you play with c! schlatt (it’s giving jack frost x elsa)
they love the two of you and seriously cannot get enough
but they really are punching the air when he marries you and when he gets you pregnant (if applicable)
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hanaruri-tunes · 11 months
Text
The avatars of sin ganging up on y/n, making them their pet
⚠️ MDNI
Tags: possessive/ownership, overstimulation, taming, shaming
Y/N can be any gender in this one.
Probably the most slutty fic conceptually, yet ironically the less provocative/descriptive thing I’ve written thus far. It is really short but I’ll put it under a read more nonetheless. Enjoy!
You had always been cheeky but lately, you might've gone a bit too far. Some of your actions could in fact be seen as you looking down on the avatars of sin which was in extension an insult to the devildom. You would play around with them, challenging them, then happily tease them once they lost. Or even straight up play with their hearts, switching 2 to 4 times a day with whom you're hanging out with. They had started to slowly feel like some hookers or like easily replaceable toys for you to use. It was frustrating, at times they even felt outright disrespected. Like some side pieces for you to choose from and juggle between at will.
Oh, how exhilarating it was when you came to them to ask for help, desperate after you had been struck by a curse. Making you weak and desperate for touch, asking them to fuck you while looking all hot and bothered.
Lucifer was the one to break first, leading all of his brothers along to "teach you a lesson."
They were planning on humiliating you, on making you beg, on completely destroying your ego and making you feel mortified. But, well… they quickly realized how difficult it was for them to be mean and commanding towards you once they surrounded you, each trying to put their hands on you to rip your clothes off. In reality, all they managed to do is to slowly and gently take your clothes off.
Why was that? Because despite how you usually act with them, once you were cornered you started acting all shy, obedient and vulnerable. If you had been more provocative it would be easy to be mean, to strip you off of your dignity but as it turned out, that wasn’t the case. You were just so cute that they instead treated you carefully and lovingly, measuring your reactions.
Of course, some of them took the reins on teasing you and mocking you a little more once they got comfortable with the situation at hand. Those demons being Lucifer, Asmo, Belphie and in some instances Satan as well. Meanwhile Mammon, Levi and Beel were still very gentle and kind, telling the others off the moment it looked like something had hurt you or a movement was too sudden, too rough for your sensitive body to handle.
They take turns using you, making you say their name, making you apologize for being so full of yourself before and while some may try to act like it’s not working, they’re all absolutely smitten and have already forgiven you or even completely forgotten why they got mad at you in the first place. They caress your back, squeeze your thighs, pet your head, kiss your cheeks. They can’t help but find you adorable, especially seeing the contrast between how you usually act and how you are right now in front of them.
Eventually, they start treating you like their plaything. Dressing you up in cute and slutty outfits for their eyes only, filming and taking pictures of you, telling you to sit on their laps and so on and so forth. It doesn’t take long for them to make you into their beloved pet. They start fighting over you, wanting to hog you all for themselves. At some point they decide to come up with a schedule, indicating which day you’ll spend with which demon in order to avoid "unfairness" in your interactions with them. You’re their precious little darling and they go absolutely stupid over you.
They love making you tired, so weak that you can’t even keep yourself on your hands and knees. Once your arms give out, you’re a mumbling and drooling mess, ass in the air only because they’re holding you by the waist to pound into you. When that happens, you’re the most adorable thing ever in their eyes. They love watching you squirm, whimper and cry under them as they’re overstimulating you. All the while you can’t help but shudder under their pressing gazes on your entire being, the cute faces you make along with the pretty sounds that escape your mouth, the way you tremble when you’re about to cum, your little hands flailing only to grab either the sheets beneath you or one of them. They want to witness it all.
Puppy, bunny, darling, baby. The nicknames keep piling up, your name getting called less and less. They’ve successfully made you into their obedient little pet and they damn well will make sure to spoil you every single day...
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Hey! So I really liked your child + overlords, and I’ve been watching too many horror movies lately, so I was thinking; what if a kid like Samhain (Sam from “Trick r Treat”) was the kid.
He’s not even an overlord but how would they be with him when he clearly likes them, he shares candy with them, follows them around, and likes to cozy up with them. (especially since he’s as old as hallow’s eve itself and still kinda acts like a child, but never had a caretaker or someone to consider family) But when someone tries to hurt them, Sam does something super horrific to their attacker that would even creep Alastor out? But then he goes back to the lovable Sam that they know but what’s their reactions?
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A/n: I haven’t watched Trick or Treat, so I based off a few clips I watched. Also by attacked them, I assume you mean the overlord? I’m so sorry if not!!! :( 
!!!not proofread!!!
Alastor: Very intrigued by you. Which, knowing Alastor is the reason he was nice to you in the first place, which spiraled into friendship. You were unnaturally cuddly. Which Alastor would usually hate, but, for some reason, he didn’t mind with you. Also, you kept giving candy? He wasn't entirely sure where you kept getting it because the hotel didn’t have any, but it was a sweet gesture nonetheless. One day both of you were going for an evening stroll. Until some, to put it frankly, idiot, attacked Alastor. Well tried to at least. Most people couldn’t get a scratch on him and this was no exception. What was different this time was that it was him who drew screams out of the sinner.  Instead, you, sweet, kind, you, were the one responsible.  You ended up disturbing Alastor, which is hard to do, so good job!  But after you were done you reverted back into your innocent self. Has a new reason for why he likes you after that day.
Rosie: I mentioned this in my overlord post but, mother figure. She will give you candy as well! (Just don't eat it if you're not a cannibal) She’ll make sure she always has time for you. And even when she is spending time with others she is not opposed to you tagging along. You and she had just bought some candy and were on your way back to cannibal town. You and Rosie were having a lovely conversation before someone tackled Rosie to the ground. She was able to push them off rather fast before you jumped in. Rosie was kinda shell-shocked. But despite how eldritch horror-esque the scene was, she was used to this because of Alastor. She was more surprised that it was you of all sinners. After you were done you turned back into your nice self. Tbh she doesn���t really care, she treats you the same. 
Vox: I’m going to be honest with you bestie he doesn’t like you at first. He didn’t hate you or anything, just didn’t particularly care for you. That being said, you do grow on him. He doesn’t eat the candy you give him (weirdly enough he can though. We see him eat popcorn in the final.) I don’t know bro just isn’t going to eat candy some random kid gave him from who knows where. Also, you're always in the ads. it wasn’t on purpose at first but soon he would just casually hold you in the ads, he never mentions it though. One day he’s going to film an ad and you are tagging along as you always do. When somebody tries to attack Vox with a bat, but they were stopped in their tracks by you. Vox just stared at horror and amazement as you made the sinner pay. After the horror wears off the dude is amazed. If you weren’t friends before you are now. Despite the fact that you’re, y’know, a child, he kind of uses you for scary dog privileges.
Velvette: Surprisingly accepting of you. Would probably post pics with your candy and cuddling with you. She does just straight up like you even without social media. Velvette is the youngest overlord which makes her a pretty easy target. So while it wasn't a surprise for her to get attacked how you responded was. Out of instinct, she starts recording not just to post it, I mean yes that too, but also to make sure what she was seeing was real. Which was especially needed after you went back to your cutesy self. Despite how unbelievable it was she was pretty indifferent at the end of the day. Will ask you if you can do that more for photos though.
Carmila: New mother part 2. Though admittedly she isn't one for cuddles or candy. She does take it and cuddle to make you happy. Very protective of you. You are kind and she doesn't want you to get hurt, thankfully she doesn't have to worry about you. Someone attacking the overlord who makes weapons isn't wise, but as you’ve probably learned by now, messing with someone you care about is even more stupid. She wants to stop you but also doesn't want to hurt you or get herself in the crossfire. But hey now she knows you can protect yourself. Maybe even against an exorcist without angelic metal because holy fuck. Anyway, now she trains with you.
  (A/n: Bro Tumblr fucking deleted this when I was ¾ done with it.)
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stabortega · 7 months
Text
NO SURPRISES — CHAPTER TWO
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Summary: Having to deal with the aftermath of that situation was definitely worse then finding out the truth.
Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!G!P!Reader
Warnings: NSFW. Implied fem reader, she/her pronouns used. Mentions of sex, dirty talking and sexting. Knife play. Mentions of kinks, nothing explicit. Top!Reader x Bottom!Jenna. MDNI.
Author's Note: Still think my writing is trash but you guys seem to like it. 💜
MASTERLIST.
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"What the actual fuck?!" Jasmine almost yelled as Jenna shoved her inside one of the dressing rooms in the set, while she tried to shut the other actress up. "Thank god someone's paying that poor girl's college."
"This is not fucking funny, Jasmine. I shouldn't have told you." Jenna locked the door behind her, looking at her apprehensively. She made a terrible mistake by telling Jasmine what went on last night. "And now they expect me to work with her? After I-"
"Seen her dick? Oh god, what will be of you?" The black girl laughed, while sitting down on the couch. "Chill, alright? She probably doesn't even know you donated. I mean, what was your username?"
Jenna gulped. "I don't wanna say it."
"Come on, was it that obvious??" Jasmine rolled her eyes, waiting for an answer.
"It was my first name then the first four digits of my birthday."
"I cannot fucking believe you."
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Living in New York wasn't easy. Every apartment was obnoxiously expensive, so you had to resort to leave the city and start living in Brooklyn. It was a nice neighborhood, the best you could afford if we're being completely honest. Moving to the big city was by far the best and the worst decision you've ever made. Other than starting college, obviously.
I mean, you loved every second of it, but it started to fuck your financial life right up the ass.
"You should create an Only Fans or something." You almost spit the whiskey shot you were drinking right back to your cup, looking at your friend as if she just told you that she had killed three men with a needle. "I'm serious, (Y/N). Do you know how much money you can get just by posting out some feet pics, or whatever?"
"I'm not gonna sell pictures of my feet for cash, Liana." She shook her head no while taking a sip of her Appletini.
"Then don't. Sell your dick pics, or livestream. Come on, I know how much you're struggling and you know you're putting that body to waste. What's the worse thing can happen?"
And she was right. You started out with just an account on that website, posting some pictures here and there; until one of your followers suggested livestreaming and said she would pay some good money just to watch you cum on your stomach (which obviously, she did). It happened so fast that, when you realized it, you were able to get yourself a better place right downtown, pay off your college debts and buy a professional video camera to shoot some amateur movies. And no, not the pornographic kind.
You wanted to be a director someday, but you were also really good with a camera; which is why you got the opportunity to work in the upcoming Scream movie as an assistant videographer (and because Liana put in a good word for you). It was your first real gig in your area of interest, you couldn't be more excited.
The first day was just like any other. You got to meet a few people and get a hold of the equipments you were going to use.
"Ay, (Y/N)! Come here for a sec!" Your boss, Dave, called your name while you were looking at one of the IMAX cameras, which you've never got the opportunity to film with. You realized he wanted to introduce you to some people, which he did. You just didn't expect it would be one of the protagonists (and the newest it actress of Hollywood). "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jenna."
You extended your hand for her to shake, which she did after looking at it for a couple of seconds, almost if she was analyzing you. "Nice to meet you too, (Y/N)."
And that was pretty much it, you guys didn't exchanged any other words besides that on that particular day. You even thought that she could be avoiding you, for whatever reason. All throughout the day, you felt her gaze on you multiple times, but everytime you looked at her, she just looked away.
"You're definitely not subtle." Jasmine whispered in Jenna's ear, while she watched you handle one of the camera films. "I'm pretty sure that she can physically feel your eyes on her butt as we speak."
"She's definitely gonna find out that I was on her stream last night." The Ortega took a deep breath, looking away when she realized you looked at her again.
"She's not, don't get paranoid. You have the most obvious and boring username ever? Yes. It would take just one Google search to figure out your identity? It would. But still!" Jenna got up from the chair she was sitting, realizing that all she wanted to do was to smoke this off.
"You're not helping, Jasmine." She took out her pack of Marlboro's and her lighter once she was outside. "I never even watched porn before, not even by myself."
"And now you donated $1500 to a complete stranger just so she could cum while moaning your name. That's a character development." Jasmine stood beside Jenna, who had just started smoking so she could even try to forget that she wanted to sit on her coworker's dick less than 24 hours ago.
"I'm never doing that again, Jasmine. It's inhumane and gross. It was the first and the last time."
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jenna2709: thought about you a lot today.
"Oh, did you? Good to hear that." She locked the door behind her and sat on her bed. That was Jenna's, at least, 10th day of watching your streams nonstop. And she had just "caught" you in the beginning of your livestream (which meant that she had the notifications of your page on and was too much of a chicken to admit it). So that meant that you weren't even undressed yet, you were just rubbing your dick over your sweatpants and chatting a litte bit with your followers before you started your actual show. "What exactly were you thinking of, huh?"
jenna2709: of me sucking your cock under this table while you tell me how much of a good girl i am.
Jenna realized what she said after she already sent the message. Where did that came from? She thought while looking intensely at the livestream, hoping you would just stop with the teasing and take your cock out of your pants for her to see (and drool). "Oh baby, I'm sure you're very good with your mouth. Wanted to cum right on your throat and make you swallow every drop."
jenna2709: i would be honored to be your cum dump.
"Okay, I crossed the line." She took a deep breath, not even recognizing who was that person inside of her, the person that would say the most obscene and erotic shit that she ever heard. It was almost if something awakened inside of her everytime she saw you. Every couple of days, at exactly 10PM, she would lock herself in her hotel bedroom and fuck her pussy so deep until she passed out from having like, five orgasms. And that was the easy part, obviously. The hardest part was definitely waking up in the morning and having to look at you as if she didn't saw your dick inside of a fleshlight the night before.
Jenna grew up christian. In a american dream type of household. But getting in touch with Hollywood and all of the film industry made her get out of her bubble and quite literally, discover the world. She drank, she smoked, she went to 2AM parties at some A-List celebrity's house that she never even met before. But sex? Never sex. She met a few people here and there, but nothing further. It made her think about that, the fact that she couldn't even be interested enough in someone to actually have some sort of contact with them; but with you, she would stay all night thinking about you fucking her raw and senseless until she couldn't remember who she was.
"Stop teasing, Jenna. We both know you were born to be my cum dump, and mine only." You were so horny imagining having that stranger on her knees while she had her mouth open, waiting for you to dump your cum inside of her pretty little throat. You took your cock out of your pants, a little bit earlier than you've expected, but you were getting so worked up that you didn't even thought about your stream routine. You started to stroke the member gently, feeling your dick pulsate right on the palm of your hand. "I know that you're the only one who can take care of this right, don't you think?"
jenna2709: if you were mine, i would make you cum on my pussy everyday.
Jenna started to get scared. Who was this person that was hiding inside of her? Was she really like that? Is she the female version of Christian Grey and doesn't know it yet? How the fuck she got so horny all of a sudden?
She knew that the reason you were playing that little game with her was merely money. But there was a part of her, a tiny part that hoped that you felt attracted to her as much as she felt to you. Even if you'd never seen her face, or her body. It didn't mattered if she had just met you a couple of days ago; she wanted you to want her, the same way she wanted you.
"And if you were mine, I would carve my name on your belly so everyone would know who you belong to." Oh yes, the knife play.
Jenna wasn't naive or innocent, she knew about fetishes and BDSM practices; and thankfully there was the option of marking your kinks on your own profile when you created your account. The actress spent an embarrassing amount of time researching some of your kinks that were listed on your profile (there was so many things she didn't even knew existed, to be completely honest). And the thought of you doing all of those things with her got her aroused in a matter of seconds.
jenna2709: you could carve your name on my face, for all i care.
jenna2709: i would definitely want people to know that i'm yours.
The rest of the livestream went as usual, you doing all of the things that your subs asked you to, Jenna being awarded as the number 1 tipper for the 5th time in a row, nothing out of the ordinary. You were just about to cum for the second time when Jenna tipped you again with a request.
Wow! "jenna2709" donated $2000 with the message: i want you to cum for me, again.
"You know I never decline your requests, baby. But, let's be fair this time around?" You answered, a little bit breathless, masturbating your cock as hard as you could. "I'll give you a private livestream if you show me your face."
Oh, a private livestream?
Jenna had been following your for awhile now ever since her first time watching your stream. She knew that private livestreams weren't something you did. And yet, you were here, offering one for free, just to see Jenna's face in return. It was a really good offer, but Jenna couldn't accept. If you found out who she was, the shooting would be the most awkward work experience for both of them. It would be like, "Hey, (Y/N)? Can you get this camera ready for me? Also, I've already seen your dick and I'm having wet dreams with you fucking me like the slut I am." So, she took one last breath after she decided to stick with her original plan and decline.
jenna2709: it's a deal.
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