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idksmtms · 4 months

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Golden Globes - Cillian Murphy x reader

Summary: Written from the perspective of press and viewers of the golden globes; how cute are Cillian Murphy and his girlfriend Y/n L/n?! From the red carpet to his acceptance speech, look at what a mesmerising couple these two make!

Word count: 2,250

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, very slight profanity, mostly just fluff (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: This is written purely for fictional purposes and for the sake of writing. No disrespect is intended to the real people portrayed/concerned in this scenario.

AN: Inspired by Yvonne and Cillian actually being the cutest couple ever at the Golden Globes. Also, if you catch the sneaky Succession reference: mwah! Edit: Just watched an interview clip where he says everyone calls him Cill as his nickname and I will be gratuitously using that from now on.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

Part 1: Red Carpet

“And next to arrive onto the red carpet is Cillian Murphy! He’s a favourite to win the Golden Globe for Best Actor in a Drama Motion Picture, and I mean, rightly so, he killed it in Oppenheimer!”

“Right?! And I have to say, whoever styled him tonight knew what they were doing, because mmm chef’s kiss right there.”

“For real, but knowing him he probably grabbed an old suit out of his closet and put it on, hahahah.”

“I bet he wishes, but Y/n would never let him, and there she is! Oh look how stunning she looks! For all our viewers who are unaware, that’s Y/n L/n, Cillian Murphy’s girlfriend and the other half of our favourite couple!”

“Is that a vintage Schiaparelli?! Um, someone did not come to play. Aw, look how cute they are, he refuses to let go of her hand. I want a man like that.”

“The way he smiles at her?! You can really tell they love each other, and awwww she’s blushing!!! You guyssssss, I can’t handle this.”

“Hahahah, she’s forcing him to go out and strut his stuff, how sweet. That’s the definition of a supportive partner right there, always wanting you to have your moment to shine.”

“Honestly, and like, I know we’re supposed to be watching Cillian but guys look how SHE watches him. That’s true love right there, and no one can convince me otherwise.”

“D’you remember that interview where he talked about the little gifts she gets him at the end of each of his movies?”

“Oh my god yeah, that was adorable, she makes him something small to remember each of his movies, like she knits or crochets or crafts something for him right?”

“Yeah, exactly, well apparently, since this was his sixth movie with Nolan, she made the little tokens for all the producers and like the lead team. I was in TEARS when I heard, because who is that sweet? Like who is THAT sweet to their partner’s whole team?”

“I didn’t know that, oh my god, I love her even more. No wonder Cillian loves her, I get it, I fully support it.”

“Ok, seems like Cillian’s done getting his pictures taken and- aw! He’s looking for her! Cillian, bestie, she’s right there, ok ok ok, they found each other. Look at that hug!”

“A man who adjusts the train of your dress like that to help you walk easier??? That is a man worth having, and Cillian Murphy is clearly the best man. Gosh look at the way she leans into him when they walk, and he’s just rubbing her back all soft and sweet, aaaaa I think I’m gonna melt.”

“Oo! Ok, they’re going for interviews and the next person to come up is…”

Part 1.2: Interview

“Hi Cillian! How are you feeling tonight?”

“I’m doing well thank you, a little nervous I guess, how are you?”

“I’m great! Having a lot of fun here at the Golden Globes! How did you enjoy the red carpet? Any chance to meet others yet?”

“Yeah, it’s grand, very… opulent, heh, and no! Unfortunately I haven’t had a chance to properly greet anyone yet, but I’m sure when we get inside I’ll have plenty of time for that.”

“Alright, let’s talk about your movie for a bit, how does it feel to see all the recognition it’s getting?”

“It feels deserved, you know? Everyone worked so hard on that film and put in a hundred and ten percent and it feels like people have really noticed it and seen not only the talent but the effort the team put in.”

“Were you expecting such resounding fame for the movie?”

“I mean, I definitely knew at least some people would watch it because Chris made it, hahaha, and people have recognised how amazing he is, but I guess you never really know how popular a movie is going to be until it comes out. But it’s truly amazing to see how it resonated with audiences.”

“You’ve spoken in past interviews about the importance of a strong and accepting support system for people in this line of work, how did such an intense movie fit into your life?”

“I mean, I treated it like I treat all my roles - it is a job at the end of the day - but it’s always great to have my family willing to put up with odd schedules and having to be away from home for long periods of time. My girlfriend, heh, she’s actually really great with this stuff. She always makes sure to call me while I’m away, she comes to visit as often as she can, and she just has this way of making anywhere feel like home, you know? Regardless of where I am, or what I’m doing, I can count on her, and that’s probably the best part of my life. It’s a really bad habit of hers but she stays up late with me if I have an oddly timed call or interview or whatever, just to be there with me.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet! It’s amazing the way you talk about her, she sounds like a great person!”

“She really really is. I mean, there’s some people out there who are just blessed with the biggest hearts and even just their presence can make life better, you know? And that’s her. I don’t know where I would be without her in my life to be honest with you.”

“Oh how cute! Well, we’ll let you go, tell your girlfriend how much we love her, and good luck with your award tonight!”

“Thank you.”

Part 2: The Main Event

“And the Golden Globe goes to… Cillian Murphy!” You let out a rather unholy shriek that you were sure would be caught on camera and posted all over, but you were too excited to care. You jumped up, grabbing Cillian by his shoulders and pressing your lips to his mouth and face, over and over until there were lipstick smudges across his nose.

“You did it Cill! You did it,” you whispered, rubbing at his face to try and wipe away the lipstick. He had the lightest red splotches across his nose and cheek but they mixed into the flush on his skin so you let him be after a moment. Your face hurt from smiling, your whole body buzzing because finally, finally, he had gotten the recognition he had long deserved.

“Oh boy, my first question, do I have lipstick all over my nose? Ah, I’m just gonna leave it. Um, I-I knew the first time that I walked on Chris Nolan’s set that it was different. I could tell by the level of rigour, the level of focus, the level of dedication, the complete lack of any seating options for actors, heheh, that it was-that I was in the hands of a visionary director and master. I wanna thank Chris, and Emma, for having the faith in me for-for twenty years, and six feckin pictures! So, thanks so much. Um, one of the most beautiful and vulnerable things about being an actor is that you can’t do it on your own, really, and we had the most incredible ensemble cast in this movie, it was magic, and some of them are here today. Emily Blunt, Robert Downey Jr, Matt Damon, Gary Oldman, thank you for carrying me and holding me through this movie. Um, thank you to- thank you! Uh, thank you to Dara Langley, and everyone at Universal for believing in this movie from the very beginning. Uh, oh! To all my fellow nominees - if you’re Irish or not - you’re all legends, stunning work guys, I salute you. Um, to all my reps, all my team, uh thank you so much you’re the best. To my girlfriend, you are the light of my life, the love I couldn’t live without, thank you for always being there. To my family, I’m the luckiest man, I love you, thanks so much guys!”

Part 3: Top Ten

“Hello everyone and welcome back to the ATN News youtube channel! Today we are looking at our top ten favourite Cillian Murphy moments from the Golden Globes and spoiler alert: they all have something to do with his girlfriend because, let’s face it guys, they’re our favourite unproblematic power couple! Just a reminder that we did similar videos for some other celebrities so you can check them out on our channel but let’s get started!

Number 1: When they were walking into the hall and he held her purse for her! This is a personal favourite because I love someone who notices the little things, and the fact that he just kinda slipped it from her hands?? Cuteness overload.

Number 2: This one is my personal favourite. During the break, the camera was just kinda moseying around and it caught them whispering to each other and just laughing. Look at how lovey dovey they are, leaning against each other, just whispering in each other’s ears. I really wanna know what they’re saying because I’m sure they are the most hilarious people on earth, but it’s also so intimate that I don’t wanna disturb them, you know? And she’s holding his hand in her lap aaaa! I have to move on otherwise I’m just gonna sit here and watch this all day.

Number 3: Ok, at number three we have the couple’s red carpet glam moment! After getting some solo pictures taken, Cillian had Y/n walk the carpet with him and they slayed. I mean they slayyyyyed. Their outfits were amazing, their chemistry was amazing, their poses were amazing just- amazing. The fact that she did the little heel kick in one of the pictures?? Iconic. Cillian, Y/n, if you guys are looking for recommendations I would frame the picture where Y/n’s kissing the air just before Cillian’s cheek, it’s funny and it’s cute.

Number 4: This is a moment from an interview he gave where they asked him about life with Y/n, take a listen.

“You know she’s just the best. We both have our own strengths at home and I think they fit together so well and it just works perfectly. Like, I’m terrible at D.I.Y. Just absolutely hopeless, and good or not, she’s tenacious. If she starts a project for the house, no matter how hard, she will learn what to do and she will finish it. It’s inspiring honestly. Just every little thing she does inspires me.”

Number 5: Halfway through and this might also be my personal favourite (agh I can’t choose!). When Y/n fed Cillian something from her plate?? Guys, when I saw that, I kid you not I almost melted. She just gently taps his shoulder, lifts her fork to his mouth, and feeds him. Was he too nervous to eat?? Did she notice and make sure he ate something?? Or is that just something they do? Like if you walked into their house at a random dinner time she might just randomly feed him something?? Either way, it was cute and I bet they make everyone sick with their love and I’m here for it.

Number 6: Another simple one, but when he sat back with his arm over her chair? He just kinda leaned to the side and put his arm on the back of her chair and she just kinda shifted closer into his side- and they didn’t even stop their conversations with other people! They just did it! Being that intune with someone is just nghdhm. I have no words.

Number 7: Alright, so some fan pics came out after the event of the couple leaving the venue, and look at this, he’s carrying her shoes for her!!! The pictures are a little grainy, but you can clearly see him holding the heels that she was wearing during the event while they walk to the car. She’s even carrying his award for him, what a bunch of cutiepies!

Number 8: Another one from the fan pics - and another personal favourite (leave me alone) - is those cuties dancing on the street! I think it’s near their house and the pictures capture him twirling her, and they’re both laughing so much and then they’re hugging and Cillian’s just swaying her (all while holding that Golden Globe mind you) and they just look so happy and in love. Brb, I need something to tackle this overdose of cute.

Number 9: Our second last moment is when Y/n kissed Cillian right before he went up to accept his award! Just, the scream, the kiss, the lipstick on his face, all of it is so perfect. And the fact that he left it on his face while giving his speech? Our king, have no shame, proudly show her love!

Number 10: And of course, the final favourite has to be Cillian’s speech. He was funny, he was gracious, and honestly? It was perfect. If my boyfriend called me the light of his life in a room full of famous people, on a live broadcast that like millions of people are watching, I would probably just start proposing to him at that moment. Like he really said “the love I couldn’t live without” can you imagine that kind of devotion?! I want that.

Anyway! Thanks for watching our top ten Cillian Murphy moments. Don’t forget to like and subscribe!”

AN: Yes, I did transcribe his whole acceptance speech. No further questions.

#cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian x reader #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x y/n #cillianmurphy #cillian #cillian fic #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #oppenheimer #christopher nolan

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hazbinwhoree · 3 months

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Hey I fell in love with your writing style, I wanted to know if you could write an Adam x reader with a shy S/O who is anxious about having their first time with Adam.

She is curious and takes off Adam's mask and tells him he is beautiful

Sorry if it's too long 💛🎸

Virginity

A/N: I got FOUR requests for Adam x a virgin reader, so here you go you fiends.

“Looking good today, babe, let me hit!” Adam called at (Name) as she walked by. Lute punched his arm. (Name) blushed bright red and walked a little faster. She wasn’t scared of or annoyed by Adam, in fact, she had the biggest crush on him, but she had no idea what to do about it.

Adam loved flirting with and catcalling (Name). Not just because he liked her, but because her reactions were just too funny. Last week he’d backed her against a wall and complimented her hair.

Well… “You have such pretty hair. I bet it’s as soft as it looks. How about you get on your knees and I can find out?” (Name) squeaked. Adam still laughed thinking about it. It was adorable the way she blushed so easily.

“Hey!” Adam caught up to (Name). “Want to commit a sin for your next confessional?” He made finger guns at her.

“What? Why would I purposely sin?”

That was another thing about her Adam loved. She didn’t understand dirty jokes.

So was the case for a few years before Adam found his little attraction to (Name) growing out of hand. When he wasn’t turned on by porn anymore, he knew he was screwed. He started jerking off to the thought that (Name) had never been touched and probably had never even touched herself. Maybe he had a bit of a virginity kink.

Unbeknownst to him, (Name) did touch herself, albeit very rarely and she never finished. And when she did touch herself, she imagined Adam, taking her virginity. She didn’t want it to be anyone else. She was sure that if she asked, Adam would say yes in a heartbeat, but she was way too shy to ever bring it up.

Lucky for her, Adam didn’t have the same inhibitions. After a week of jerking off to the thought of her, Adam pulled her aside one day.

“I want to have sex with you.”

(Name) blinked. Adam couldn’t have been more clear.

“I’m a virgin,” she finally responded, thinking it would deter him. He’d had a lot of sex, no doubt, so why would he want someone inexperienced?

Adam rolled his eyes. “Holy fucking shit, I’m sooo surprised.”

There was a moment of silence. Adam groaned, exasperated. “I still want to fuck you. Do you want to fuck me?”

“I mean,” (Name) was as red as a tomato. “I wouldn’t mind you being the one to take it…”

Adam grinned, pinning her against the wall. (Name) choked. “I’ll see you tonight then,” he said sweetly, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her mouth. Then he was gone.

That night, (Name) was so nervous she felt like she might throw up. She was rethinking letting Adam be the one to take her virginity. Gentle wasn’t exactly a word anyone associated with Adam. But once she was outside his door, he opened it without her even knocking, and (Name) accepted that she was in it now. No going back.

“If you’re having second thoughts, you don’t have to do this,” Adam said, like he read her mind.

“No… no I want to, I’m just nervous.” (Name) blushed.

“Well I swear I’ll make it enjoyable for you.” He reached out his hand. “I’m the Dickmaster for a reason.”

(Name) laughed, taking his hand, and he led her to his bedroom.

(Name) was pleasantly surprised how clean Adam’s room was. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting but Adam didn’t exactly put off the vibes of having a clean room. It smelled nice too, like men’s soap and cologne.

What he did have was the stereotypical navy blue sheets.

But his bed looked comfy and he had ambient lighting, and he’d definitely set a nice scene for their upcoming activities.

Adam placed a hand on her lower back to gently push her towards the bed because (Name) found that her feet wouldn’t move when her brain commanded it. Heat spread pleasantly through her body at the contact and she briefly realized how touch starved she actually was.

(Name) sat on the edge of the bed while Adam went over to his nightstand and lit a candle. Then he came and sat next to her. “Again,” he said, “I don’t want you to feel like this is a fucking hostage situation. If you’re having any doubts, bail, I won’t be mad.”

He didn’t really seem to believe that she wanted to be there, so (Name) said the boldest thing she’d said in a while. “Kiss me.”

Adam grinned. “Fuck yeah.” He pulled her into his lap and connected their lips almost desperately. This would take a lot of restraint on his end if he didn’t want to scare her off. He was already hard just from her being in his lap.

(Name) was nervous when she could feel Adam’s erection against her thigh. But kissing him was more than enjoyable, so despite her nerves, she had no second thoughts. Adam ran his hands up her back under her shirt, gently stroking the base of her wings.

(Name) shuddered, gripping his shoulders. She was already wet.

Adam’s tongue invaded her mouth and (Name) moaned. To her dismay, Adam pulled back. “Damn, babe, you’re already this worked up and I’ve barely touched you.” (Name)’s face burned. “Shut up,” she scowled. Adam laughed, reconnecting their lips.

They made out for another minute before Adam stood, picking (Name) up with him, turning around and tossing her down on the bed before crawling on top of her. (Name) squeaked and Adam snickered.

He spread her legs and settled between them, covering her body with his as he pressed his lips to hers again. His hand sneaks up her shirt until he reaches her chest, groping her breast. He rolls a nipple between his forefinger and thumb and (Name) moans against his lips.

“Sensitive,” Adam teases. He’s pretty sure she hasn’t stopped blushing since they started. “Just tell me what feels good,” he told her, squeezing her tit. (Name) just nodded wordlessly. Adam took off his own shirt before pulling (Name)’s up and off to make her more comfortable.

“Are you going to take your mask off?”

The question caught Adam off guard. “I wasn’t going to,” he answered after a minute.

“Could you?”

Adam hesitates.

“Come on,” (Name) encourages. “If you’re going to take my virginity I want to see your real face while you do.”

That was a fair point. Reluctantly, Adam reached up and tugged his mask off.

(Name) had never seen him without his mask before, he wore it everywhere. He looked unsure and uncomfortable without it, but he was gorgeous. (Name) reached up and cupped his face in her hands.

“Pretty boy,” she cooed.

It was Adam’s turn to blush, but the compliment made him regain his confidence. He sat back to admire (Name) topless. “Pretty girl,” he retorted, staring at her chest. (Name) moved to cover herself but Adam caught her hands and pinned them to the bed.

Then he slid down so his face was between her tits, peppering them with kisses before taking a nipple into his mouth. (Name) gasped and her back arched. Adam smiled, sucking. He let go of her hands, which immediately found purchase tangled in his hair, and massaged the tit he wasn’t sucking on.

(Name) was making affirming noises as Adam continued his minstrations, only spurring him on. He released her nipple with a wet pop, and moved to the other one. One hand gently held (Name)’s head, while the other began to snake down her stomach towards her core.

He slid his hand under the waistband of her pants and over her underwear, dragging three fingers up and down. (Name) whimpered.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet,” Adam mumbled, releasing her tit. He leaned up and kissed (Name), sneaking his tongue past her lips.

He moved his hand to slide under her panties too and (Name) gasped at the feeling of his fingers against her bare pussy. Adam dragged his fingers up and down and (Name) almost accidentally bit his tongue.

One finger prodded at her opening, testing resistance. Finding none, he slid one slender finger into her. (Name) wasn’t even sure what kind of noise she made. Adam added a second finger and (Name) winced in slight pain. Adam waited a moment for her to adjust before beginning to pump his fingers in and out. His thumb put pressure on her clit.

It quickly became pleasurable, and Adam began scissoring his fingers. When he was sure she was loosened up, he added a third finger and (Name) winced. Three was a new stretch, but the pain mixed with pleasure. Adam leisurely pumped his fingers in and out, pulling out of the kiss so he could lean back and witness her expressions.

(Name) sighed, her body feeling better than it had ever felt in her life. “Adam,” (Name) breathed. Adam grinned. He loved hearing his name. He pulled his fingers out and pulled his hand from her pants, and (Name) whined at the loss.

“Patience,” Adam teased. He knelt back to pull down (Name)’s pants and panties. She crossed her legs once she was bare.

Adam quickly shed his own pants and boxers to keep them on the same level. (Name)’s eyes widened looking at his dick. She had no idea how she was supposed to take that inside her.

Adam smirked. “It’ll only hurt a bit. I’ll be gentle.” He grabbed her ankles and uncrossed her legs, pushing her knees apart.

(Name) felt a small thrill when Adam pressed himself against her. He looked so… angelic above her. He grinded against her and hissed, his self control waning. “Can I?” he asked, and it almost sounded desperate.

“Yeah.”

Adam smiled and lined himself up with her opening before slowing beginning to sink in. (Name) gasped, tensing up. “Relax,” Adam soothed. “It’ll be easier.” (Name) tried to relax her body. When she did, Adam pushed in further, and as hot pain spread through her groin, she had to focus on keeping her body relaxed.

She managed, and before she knew it, she felt Adam’s hips against hers and realized he had bottomed out. He stayed still, letting her adjust to the stretch. Her face was contorted in pain until he reached a hand down between them and began rubbing her clit. The expression of pain quickly morphed into one of pleasure.

The pleasure completely overpowered the pain and (Name) didn’t feel split in half anymore.

“I’m gonna move,” Adam warned her, his voice gravelly with the effort to remain restrained and not fuck her into the mattress.

(Name)’s arms wound around his shoulders, hands clawing at his back when he began to thrust. Adam held himself up with a hand next to the side of (Name)’s head, slowly rocking his hips. His finger was still circling her clit, so it didn’t take long for his thrusts to become pleasurable too.

“Faster,” (Name) panted. Adam didn’t need to be told twice, roughly snapping his hips. (Name) cried out in pleasure. “Adam!” Adam thrust quickly and deeply, leaning down to kiss (Name) when she cried his name. He kissed her sweetly, as if to make up for the rough pace.

He loved the missionary position because it allowed him to be able to look at her facial expressions while he fucked her. He pulled back to admire her for a minute, his hips never losing their pace. He stared into her eyes and (Name) held the intense eye contact.

Adam’s thrusts started to become sporadic, and he looked away, gritting his teeth. “Fuck, I’m close.” (Name) came suddenly, and how hard she tensed around him pushed Adam over the edge and he came right after her, burying his dick deep inside her and painting her womb.

“Shit, fuck,” he cursed through his orgasm, dropping his forehead against (Name)’s. “I love you,” he panted when he finished. His entire body tensed. (Name) just smiled, running her fingers through his hair. “I love you too.” Adam smiled, leaning down to kiss her.

When he pulled back from the kiss he finally pulled out, and (Name) felt liquids dripping down her inner thighs. Adam kissed her forehead before climbing off of her.

“Wait right here, I’m going to run us a bath.” He disappeared into his connected bathroom, and (Name) panted, coming down, while her ears picked up the sound of running water.

Adam returned a few moments later, scooping (Name) up and off the mattress, bridal-style. (Name) squealed, locking her arms around his neck. Adam lifted her like she weighed nothing. To him, she probably didn’t.

Adam carried her into the bathroom, where he’d drawn up a warm bubble bath. He stepped in, still holding (Name), and sat down, sinking himself and (Name) into the water. She sat in front of him, her back leaned against his chest.

Adam ran his hands up and down her sides before running over her breasts. (Name) shivered, her nipples perking up. Adam pinched them, and (Name) gasped, throwing her head back. Adam attacked her neck, sucking and biting, aiming to leave claim marks.

He pulled back and whispered in her ear, “Round two?”

#hazbin adam #adam x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #x reader #smut #hazbin lucifer #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin niffty #oneshot

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phefics · 7 months

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An idea: poly!ghostface- the boys are out about to go after a victim when they find they’re missing something/something broken (the phone isn’t working or their voice changer doesn’t have batteries whatever you want is totally cool!)

They realize- afab!reader the needy little whore did it on purpose so they’d have to come home to her and give her attention like they don’t give her attention 99% of the time.

Which of course they do and they are very very grumpy angy bois. All like “oh you missed us you wanted our attention you know you’d get it when we came home but you had to ruin our game and now we gotta take our energy and anger out somehow”

Followed by some smutty degradation, spanking/punishment, good ole fashion filth lol

Side note i think you have one of the easiest to understand request rules idk some people just make them complicated but yours is great!

needy little whore

ship: billy loomis x fem!reader x stu macher summary: exactly what the ask above says!! :) warnings: degradtion, spanking, a bit of knifeplay, rough/unprotected sex, face-fucking word count: 1.3k

You knew that you were asking for trouble, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

It wasn’t that Billy and Stu weren’t giving you enough attention. In fact, to the average person, they would be considered abnormally clingy. It didn’t bother you, though, because you were the same way.

You would have survived one night without them, but you were feeling mischievous that night. You wanted to piss them off so that they’d take it out on you, because angry sex with Billy and Stu was a whole new level of adrenaline.

So, you stole the batteries out of their voice changer, and then hid all the other batteries in the house. You weren’t stupid: You knew the reason they wouldn’t be hanging at Stu’s tonight, and you didn’t mind that as much as you minded their attention being elsewhere.

Since Stu’s family was rarely home, you would often hang out there even when Stu wasn’t around. He didn’t care, and had even given you a spare key.

You watched the two boys head out the door, black backpacks surely stuffed with everything they’d need to carry out a brutal crime.

You popped in a VHS of Nightmare on Elm Street, then made yourself comfortable on the couch, wearing the most revealing pajamas you had. You had seen the way the boys looked at you before they left, and smirked to yourself.

You only made it about twenty minutes into the movie before you heard a car pull into the driveway outside. Anticipation built inside you, but you stayed put, looking innocent as ever as Billy and Stu burst through the front door, both looking absolutely pissed.

“What did you do?” Billy demanded.

You looked up at him with your sweetest expression. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play stupid, Y/N,” Stu said. “You’re fuckin’ lucky we tested the thing first.”

“You trying to get us caught?” Billy asked, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up from the couch. “You know we can’t fuck you if we’re in jail, right? Is that what you want?”

You shook your head. “No, of course not—”

“Ruining our game just cause you wanna get fucked, huh?” Stu said, closing in behind you. You were trapped between them now, Billy still holding your wrist as Stu pressed himself against your ass; he was already hard, and you bit back a moan at the realization.

“I just—”

“Couldn’t wait til we got home?” Billy smirked, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You would have gotten what you wanted later, but the needy whole just couldn’t wait.”

Stu gripped your hips from behind, breathing against your ear. “Well, we gotta get our energy out somehow. But now it’s all gonna be focused on you, baby. We’re gonna fuckin’ destroy you.”

You whimpered as they manhandled you back onto the couch, the film still playing in the background.

“Look at these slutty clothes,” Billy practically purred. “Barely covering anything…”

Stu pulled a knife from the bag he’d been carrying, the blade glinting in the light. “Bet you won’t mind if we take ‘em off,” he said, using the sharp blade to cut the strap of your top, then doing the same to the other side.

You opened your mouth to protest, but Billy stroked your hair and whispered, “We’ll buy you somethin’ even prettier, m’kay?”

Before you could offer a response, he shoved his fingers into your mouth, and you sucked on them reflexively, making him chuckle.

“Such a fucking slut,” he said.

Stu pulled the remnants of your tattered clothes off, leaving you naked as Billy pulled his hand back, admiring the strings of spit on his fingers before licking it off. He and Stu were completely fucking depraved, and it turned you on more than you could handle.

You were quickly pushed onto all fours on the couch, and you could barely contain your excitement at the idea of them fucking you. But that was wishful thinking. Instead, a hand came down on your ass with a hard slap! making you yelp.

You turned your head to see that it was Stu who had hit you, and you pouted at him.

“Oh, don’t give me that pathetic face,” he said. “You thought we were just gonna give you what you wanted after that? Not a chance, baby. We gotta punish you first.”

He laughed as you whined in response, clearly enjoying your frustration.

They took turns spanking you, slapping your ass without mercy.

“Count them,” Billy had ordered.

Each number left your mouth between pained groans and squeaks, stuttering over nine and eleven and thirteen, but when they hit twenty, they stopped, apparently satisfied with your teary face and marked-up ass.

“Think we should give the whore what she wants?” Stu asked.

Billy hummed, considering it. “I doubt she learned her lesson, but I wanna fuck her too bad to care right now.”

“Agreed,” Stu said, and you stayed on your knees as the two of them stripped out of their clothes hurriedly, bickering about who was going to take what place.

“You always get to fuck her, let me—”

“Her mouth is just as good—”

“Do I get a say in this?” you asked.

“No,” the boys replied, grinning at their synchronized speech.

You couldn’t help but giggle as you watched them play a rigorous game of rock-paper-scissors for who got to fuck you, and your laugh only grew when Stu won, and Billy flipped him off.

Some nights they would take turns, but after the spanking that they’d given you, they were gracious enough to not push your limits too far.

You were already wet, but Stu took some time playing with your pussy, fingers fumbling through your folds to rub at your clit, and you bucked your hips uselessly, moaning at his touch.

Billy walked to the other end of the couch, grabbing you by your hair and smirking down at you. “You gonna let me fuck your throat, slut?” he asked.

You nodded, opening your mouth for him without needing to be asked. He chuckled at your obedience, and wasted no time in pushing his cock between your lips.

As he did so, Stu was lining himself up with your entrance, his grip impossibly tight on your hips and he entered you, slow at first, before immediately picking up the pace, snapping his hips rhythmically. Every time he thrust forward, it made Billy’s dick go further into your mouth, and the sounds of their moaning filled your ears as they used you like the needy whore you were.

Your eyes teared as you focused on breathing through your nose amidst the pleasure of Stu’s cock inside you. Before you met them, you could never cum from penetration, but both Billy and Stu had a way of fucking you so good, rough just like you wanted, that it had become more common for you to orgasm from it.

“So fuckin’ hot,” Billy murmured, almost to himself. “Perfect fuckin’ mouth.”

“Such a slut,” Stu added. “Taking us both at once. Gettin’ off on it, too.”

You whined at their words, floating from the mixture of praise and degradation.

Stu came first, and Billy followed shortly after, and the three of you collapsed onto the couch together, sweaty and tired.

Stu leaned over to you and kissed you, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You had a suspicion it was partly so that he could taste Billy’s cum, but you kissed him back anyway.

“Get a room,” Billy joked, making Stu giggle.

Nightmare on Elm Street was almost over, and you were sticky and exhausted.

“You wanna get cleaned up, baby?” Stu asked.

You nodded, and before you could say anything, he was carefully leading you to the bathroom, his arms supporting the majority of your weight.

Billy went upstairs to grab you some clothes to borrow—a pair of his pajama pants, and one of Stu’s t-shirts. It was all too big on you, but it was comfortable and smelt like them.

You fell asleep to the sound of Billy and Stu planning another night to carry out the plan that you’d ruined. Maybe next time you’d take the burner phones off their chargers.

#poly!ghostface #billy x reader x stu #stuilly #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #ghostface x reader #billy x stu x reader #poly!ghostface x reader #slasher smut #slasher fic #ophelia's fics

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undercoverpena · 2 months

Text

4. green smoke

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter four of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.7k chapter warnings: [see masterlist for series warnings] meet cute, flirting. fluff. flirting in person and over IG. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used, you wear a date outfit but not specified and the shoes have heels but not mentioned what kind. minor discussion of past canon events incl. drugs. no use of y/n. an: if this as a friends episode this would be called "the one where they talk"

prev chapter | frankie's ig

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

Friday soon arrives.

It comes hand-in-hand with a tumultuous storm, bringing with it ominous rumbles echoing through your house. The air feels charged with tension, wrung tight, all sense—as if it’s holding its breath while the world around seems to retreat into darkness. Even if the time on your laptop says 14:43.

Your gaze fixates on beads of rain running down the window, all racing one another—like you have been for several minutes. The steady patter provides a rhythmic backdrop to your solitude, interrupted only by the occasional sighs that escape your lips and the soft tapping of your pencil against the notebook—a feeble attempt at pretending you’re concentrating.

Pretend is the optimum word.

Merely putting on a show of focusing on the task at hand. In reality, your eyes keep flicking to your phone—the one lying silent on the counter, eagerly anticipating the next notification that’ll make it illuminate.

Your work, the one thankfully with a deadline of next week, continues to sit ignored—barely considered, never mind plotted. Because it isn’t what fills your mind.

It’s him.

Just thoughts of him—mind populated with vivid memories that refuse to fade, unable to stop lingering on the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles or his infectious laugh. The one which has dug itself a place into the walls of your home, lit it up.

Then, you think of his lips, the ones that are purposeful, all heavenly. The mere thought of them sends a shiver down your spine, a longing present, spreading—

Unloading a delivery and you’re falling on me.

It's difficult not to smile at his message.

Something he effortlessly elicits from you now. Has done so since the very beginning. A thing he continues to do so the more the two of you speak.

It's giddy, almost teenage-like, the way your heart scampers to catch itself as your fingers try to pretend they're not darting to reply.

Excuse me? Rain. Oh, that is such a dad joke. It was. I’m pretty proud of it. Bet it made you smile. I will not confirm or deny. So that means it did. Shut up.

Thumbs swirling over the screen, you roll your lips, toes twitching on the floor as you grin.

So, how big is the candle going to be in the middle of the table? Ummm, appropriately sized for a restaurant? Hmm, I have only gone on dates with inappropriately sized candles. Are you flirting with me when I’m at work? Are you saying that like you don’t flirt with me when I’m at work? In my defence, you choose your own hours. Do you mind me flirting with you? Not even a little bit. Good. Because guess what I’m wearing right now? Hopefully nothing. I’m wearing sweats and a baggy T-shirt. Still hot. Get back to work, Butterscotch.

You know it’s not long—a handful of hours until you’ll be across from him.

Likely with your smile hurting your cheeks, eyes unable to stand looking away from him for more than a few minutes. Unable to explain or rationalise how straightforward it is with him, how natural it feels to get swept up in all of this and find yourself wanting to be around him.

Something you try to put to the back of your mind, to not clock-watch, not count down. Doing well at it until you hear your phone buzz and see his name appear on your screen.

The laundry you're putting away ignored, the item dropped from your hand to the floor, before wiping your hands on your thighs, taking a measured breath, then lifting the phone to swipe it.

His voice fills your ear almost immediately. All hello and your name, a can you hear me? following.

And your heart skips a beat—missing a whole thud against your ribs as you stare at the outfit hanging on the closet door.

“I’m really sorry—“

And your heart falls. Descends gradually, like a feather freefalling. Doing so until it has nowhere else to go but sit in the hollow void. Disappointment beating, pulsating.

“—Harold… he had to leave early, his heart was playing up and he said he’d come back. But I can’t make him do that, wouldn’t be able to enjoy ourselves if he just—"

“—Frankie—“

“—And I’ve tried to move the reservation, rang the restaurant. But, they’re booked up and I really want to take you there—”

“—Frankie?”

You brush the fabric, the hanger holding on to the top of the door with sheer will as you do so between thumb and finger. Half-smiling—even still. Listening to the way he takes a breath, to the way he cares so much.

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, swallowing, shoving the dismay down. “I… promise.”

The voice you hear back is soft. So tinged with sadness, and regret, you half-want to call him Butterscotch just to make him laugh. “You sure?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you reassure him, comfort him—voice steady as you do so, "We can reschedule. It's not a problem."

A moment of silence follows, with a sense of letdown settling in the air like fog. It sits there, resting, hanging. Because even if you know it’s just a minor adjustment, a twinge of disappointment still seeps in. Not so much a sharp pang, but a lingering weight that makes your shoulders sag, as though everything had deflated like a balloon slowly losing air.

“Baby… I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, a smile making its way onto your face despite the circumstances. "There's always next time."

“Not drove you away then?” he half-laughs, one you imagine is a little forced.

“Not even a little bit.”

Sighing, you swear you hear him smile with it. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You grin, nothing but light and easy, “Just make sure next time you can show up, that’ll be a good start."

Frankie laughs, it flowing down your ear before it’s joined by a promise that he will and he can call you later, if you like? A thing which sounds like a good idea, even more so when it's followed by the fact he wishes he could stay—talk, but you know. Nodding to no one but yourself as you bid him goodbye, leaning against the wall—hanging up, full of bittersweet.

You let your head fall against it, rolling it there as your eyes flick back up at your clothes, lingering over it.

And an idea appears.

It grows—smothering over sadness before it blooms.

Then, you’re grinning. One almost as large as you do when he makes you giggle. Almost.

You’re thankful the sign still says open when you step out of your car—fingers tugging at fabric, ensuring it sits how it’s supposed to.

Even for a surprise, you wanted to look as picture-perfect as you should have been entering the restaurant. The paper bags catch your leg, noise crinkling against the air as you yank on the handle—entering, being washed in wood chippings, bleach and paint.

For a moment, one stuck between time and space, you look. Glance. Unsure where to find him, until your eyes land on him and find his head lifting at the sound of your entering.

Whatever Frankie had been in his hand dropped, all forgotten. His mouth parting at the sight of you. Taking you in. Sweeping brown, surprised eyes all over you as heat rises up your neck and brushes over your ears.

“I know I’m a little overdressed for buying a hammer, but…”

Mouth falling open, he looks torn between grinning and speaking. “What are you…”

Shrugging, watching his eyes roam up and down the outfit you’d chosen. The one that had been on the hanger for days—one you’d not thought could be replaced by anything else.

“Well,” you begin, smirking, “My date got caught up at work and I’d been really looking forward to seeing him.”

Frankie smiles, hand rubbing along his jaw as he stares.

“But then, someone told me there’s a secret restaurant here. One behind a metal door that says, Staff Only?”

Dropping his hand, and swiping his tongue across his lips—he slowly moves around the register. Coming to join you as you hold the bags up, the heels of your shoes clicking on the shop floor tiles as you meet him halfway.

“I also suspect that you might not have eaten, since you've been alone for most of the day.”

It’s at that moment his stomach roars. It grinds, what you assume is coffee, before groaning inside of him as he claps a hand on his apron.

“The only problem is,” you say, narrowing your eyes, scrunching your nose. “I… I didn’t know what you would like, so I might have bought a ridiculous amount of food.”

Taking a bag, his eyes widen when he opens it. “You’re staying, right? To help me?”

Reaching inside the bag he didn’t take, you pull out a single, battery-powered candle. “It’s a date.”

He gives you a wide smile, his eyes twinkling with happiness. "I just need to lock up," he says.

You watch with a flutter of excited nervousness as he moves around the store, flipping the sign on the door from 'Open' to 'Closed', and then securing the door. The lock clicks into place, echoing in the quiet store. He then proceeds to shut off the lights, plunging the store into a soft, inviting darkness lit only by the glow from the streetlights outside.

Turning back to you, he extends a hand.

"Shall we?" he asks, his voice filled with anticipation. You place your hand in his, feeling the warmth spreading through your fingers.

As you walk together towards the back of the store, a tinge of excitement flutters in the air. The 'Staff Only' sign looms above the door like a secret entrance to a place you shouldn't be, but with a gentle gesture, he ushers you inside.

You don't miss the way his fingers brush your lower back, the heat they ignite up your spine as his chest meets your back, face close to yours. Lingering, eyes sweeping over you.

"Lemme just..." he whispers, elongating it, before he bends to pull you a chair out—one with three wheels, no back—fingers sliding up to brush over your shoulders as you sit down.

“Careful.”

Swallowing, you suppress the effect he's having on you, forcing a smirk. “Oh, I’ll try, Morales. Don’t want you to have to fill out the accident book.”

“Harold would murder me.”

Snorting, you watch him join you—taking the candle from your hand, flicking it on and placing it directly in the middle before the two of you begin taking food out. He gazes at bundled packaged burgers, stealing a fry from the bag before it’s laid out over the desk.

“So, as it’s our third date.” His eyes flick to you, mid-bite of his food as you twirl a fry in your fingers. “I get to ask you challenging questions, right?”

“Fuck,” he says, under his breath. Grinning. “Alright, let me have it.”

Nudging him with the tip of your shoe he laughs. “Okay. You and Luca’s mom?”

“Ah.”

Grabbing a napkin, he wipes his mouth. “You don’t have to worry.”

“And as everyone in history knows, those words are how people stop worrying.”

Smirking, he turns on the wheely stool, facing you, knees abutting yours. “We haven’t been together since he was born—we… we weren’t even together by the time he reached six months. He… he doesn’t know any different. We have things we say, and truly, she’s a fantastic mom, we have a great co-parenting situation.”

“Okay.”

His fingers land on your knee, dancing over them, light and feathery as he sighs. Heavy. Weighted. It makes you swallow, makes you want to dig your fingers into your leg to stop yourself worrying, thinking—overdramatising whatever it is.

Scratching his head, he rolls his tongue from his cheek to the front of his teeth. “I wasn’t a good person then… a lot of shit had happened—I’d left the service, found myself… haunted, I guess? Me and her, we met, we… seemed good. She seemed good. And then, I…”

Your hand slides over his, one of your fries still in hand as you do. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I want to.”

Nodding, he half smiles.

And then he does.

He tells you about his days in the army—and the sleepless nights when he was back home. The sense of loss he felt without it, the uniform that meant nothing when he joined a regular job. How flying helicopters for people with money who had no cares in the world began to make him hollow, carving a piece inside of him that didn’t fill with laughter at barbecues and trivia nights. He tells you how he’d rambled to someone about the lack of sleep, before he found a little white bag in his locker—an opportunity, a chance to not overthink.

That it had stayed there for days, almost a week until there had been news about someone he had once worked with.

Then he explained how it wasn’t a problem, but it also very much was. How he was lost, drowning—that people reached out, but the lights had been on, but no one was home. How it became a coping mechanism, a small dose to take the ache away—before he learnt he was going to be a dad. Her worries about him making her ignore the signs, much further on than they thought—and then, one month later, how he failed a drug test.

Trace amounts, barely anything, but still plenty.

His license, revoked—paused. His future dwindled, a baby due to arrive, one he’d heard the heartbeat off at the same time as he found himself at the threat of being alone. A second chance dangled, offered—do better, Frank. Don’t be selfish.

“—but, I didn’t change. Don’t change.”

Your heart falls, and descends.

Watching him shake his head, grabbing a handful of fries before stuffing them into his mouth as he chews, and you pick at one from your own box.

“Things were good—Luca, he had ten toes, ten fingers. He was great, happy. It made us being good seem real? But, it lingered, y’know? If work kept me later, there was this distrust, this question. And I couldn’t blame her, didn’t. Never would either. I broke that, I know I did. But…”

“It wasn’t healthy?”

Shrugging, he swallows, before nodding. “Then, I helped a friend, one from my squad. Had to… it was dangerous. I was gone longer than I said—and she worried, panicked. I knew before I left that when I got back I’d likely find my stuff packed—not that I blame her. I know we tried. But, I broke it. But now we’re better… better co-parents than partners, you know?”

Nodding, you chew, rolling the salt on your lips together. A beat passes, ice clanging in the drinks, cartons scratching against the table as the two of you eat.

“That was probably a lot.”

“It’s okay. Are you… are you good now?”

Nodding, he chews another fry. “Clean since Luca was born. Five years, fifty-seven days.”

“Well, I know this might be weird to say, but I’m proud of you.”

Smiling, he chews his cheek, meeting your eyes for the first time since he began sharing. “You’re a bit too good for me, you know that?”

Smirking, you steal one of his fries. “Oh, a hundred per cent. You might have a bunch of followers and good taste in paint colours, but did you know that I can sand down a dresser to the point a prominent Instagram DIYer has told me ‘I did a good job’.”

“Doesn’t sound that trustworthy. Bet he doesn’t know what you call wrenches.”

Pouting, you narrow your eyes as he laughs. “Thank you for telling me.”

Nodding, he rolls his lips. “I had to… ‘cause… are we enacting third date-talk honesty?”

“Of course.”

Half-smiling, he nudges himself closer on the stool. “I really like you.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you look up at the ceiling, before grabbing his knees and wheeling yourself closer. “I quite like you too.”

Smile spreading, he places his hands on top of yours. “Yeah? Because I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to… run from all of that.”

Smirking, you try to move closer, even if the wheels of both stools try to prevent you. “Did you know, honesty is really, really hot?”

Brows raising, chin lifting, his lips slide further into his cheek. “I’m glad you came.”

“I’m glad too.”

Swallowing, his fingers slide in between yours, eyes flicking from one eye to the other. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous, that.”

“Well, I’ve seen your house now.”

Nodding, you smile. Feeling it, whatever he’s going to say, ask, think lingering in the silence. His grin widens, a spark igniting in his eyes that sends a rush of warmth through you.

“So, I think it only seems fair you see mine.”

Wiping your hands on your napkin, licking your lips as you cross a leg over the other. “Well, for fair sake I definitely should.”

“Do you want to… now?”

“Tonight?”

Nodding, that same flush of pink rises up his neck, up his jaw.

Smirking, you loosen your hand from his—resting your palm on his cheek, elbow on your knee. “I’d like that.”

The car ride to his should be tense, but it isn't.

Instead, it's filled with soft laughter, teasing comments and shared glances—your fingers twitching, wondering whether a hand on his knee is too soon. Even when everything else feels so normal, natural.

When he pulls up outside his place, anticipation fills the air—a rush of warmth flooding through you, making your fingers clamp together and stare out at the place as he says, this is it.

It’s nice, well-kept—charming, from what you can already tell. Eyes spot chalk drawings on the patio, lit up by the outside lights and a plastic red car close to where he's parked.

“Luca has some good parking,” you smile, pointing to it next to you both. “You learn from him, or?”

Smirking, he undoes his belt. “Maybe, I taught him how to park. I’m very good with heavy transportation.”

You don’t miss the way he emphasises the sentence. Your 'oh' is swallowed by the sound of him opening the door and telling you to wait.

Watching as he moves around the vehicle, his eyes holding yours. Earlier, you'd been thankful that the rain had taken a pause; now you wished it hadn't stopped its lashings that glued clothing to skin, thighs pressing together on the seat before the door beside you opens.

“What a gentleman.”

“Just wanted another chance to chance to check you out, really.”

Swatting him, he takes your hand, his laugh blending with yours as he leads you up to his front door.

If he feels nervous, he doesn’t show it. Finding his keys and slides one into the lock without missing. Opening the door without as much as an awkward shove of the door.

If anything, it’s effortless. It not even squeaking or catching as he pushes it open.

“It’s not a lot…” he begins.

But he couldn’t be more wrong.

It’s cosy and warm. Exuding an unmistakable homeliness that immediately comforts you. Dark woods, off-whites, and splashes of orange, caramel, and greens intertwine harmoniously, creating a space that feels both freshly decorated and deeply loved. A balance you assume exists because of him being the one to bring it all together, knowing from the videos you've seen how talented he is.

As you glance around, you begin to see the traces of the Frankie you’ve been getting to know. Photographs of him at the beach, with his son, with friends and more with Luca at varying ages.

Then, there are the plants. An assorted mix of them, some big that you remember from photos, some greener than others—some tall and in plants with animal faces like raccoons and beavers, others in decorative pots placed on shelves.

As you step in further, you spot furniture you recognise from videos—even noting the stacked pile of books from a photo he’d shared recently and a record player on a side table.

“C’mon, let me show you around.”

He leads you, hand in yours, showing you his well-equipped kitchen, and dining space. Occasionally, he points things out, like the markings on a wall he’s using to measure how tall Luca gets and the scuff marks from dragging the dining table in after varnishing it. Before finally, the two of you are outside the half-open door to his bedroom.

Frankie giving you a wink, bodies almost flush.

“That where the magic happens?”

“Not usually…”

"Maybe that's cause people haven't been saying the right magic words." Shrugging, you lick your lower lip, staring at the beading on the door. "I should tell you, I've heard I'm quite good at magic words..."

You let it linger, sit. Before you turn on your heel, fingers brushing over a table as you head back in the direction of his living room.

He follows, a step or two behind, letting you and your eyes capture all the personal touches before you feel fingers on your wrist, tugging you back, body flush to his.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, you find your throat dry—eyes flicking to his mouth.

“Go take a seat, I’ll bring us a drink.”

It’s soft, the nod you do as he slips his hand from your waist. You move, almost on auto-pilot, to sit down on his sofa, running your fingers over a cushion—one stitched with greens, golds and oranges.

When he reappears, you look up at him, noticing the hint of nerves in his gaze as you plaster on a reassuring smile as he places them down on the coffee table.

Slowly, you reach out, squeezing his hand, "Your home is lovely, Frankie."

He chuckles, a soft blush creeping up his cheeks as he joins sitting down. "Yeah?"

Nodding, you press your knee against his. “So.”

“So.”

With a smirk, you draw a measured breath. “I believe... I want to kiss you now.”

Swallowing, his gaze flickers to your lips, lingering, before snapping back up to your eyes. Warmth spreads over your cheeks, neck and ears. “I believe you should, Rainy.”

A response there, nestled between teeth and tongue, is muffled as his lips meet yours—for the first time in several days.

an: as a warning, the next chapter will include smut. if you wish to skip the smut, you can miss the chapter as there will be no other scenes. the following chapter will pick up the next morning.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #pedrostories #jo: dmy

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lyney-s-bitch · 1 year

Note

how about headcanons about some of the genshin boys‘ reaction to you squirting? I’d like to see diluc, tartaglia, kazuha, cyno, xiao, tighnari, alhaitham and scaramouche ;)

hello luv~

I will split my Genshin writing debut (aka this request) into two parts due to the amount of characters, so enjoy pt. 1 for now!!

EDIT: pt. 2 is up!!

————————————————————————

Genshin boys reacting to you squirting for the first time (nsfw) || pt.1

Diluc

• mans is dumbfounded (and kinda in awe)

• he looks up at you and blinks a few times, parts of his face covered in splatters of your slick

• "Well.. That’s new" he remarks, still processing what just happened while absentmindedly swiping his thumb across his bottom lip

• and you can bet your ass he’s going to make an effort to recall and memorize exactly what he did to get you there

• might even ask you what it was that you especially liked this time (he’ll wait until you’ve calmed down from your high before interrogating you though, he’s not a monster)

• and once he deems you ready for more, he will put his new hypothesis to the test right away bc he definitely wants you to do it again

• he’s a clean man and generally prefers not to get too messy, but in this case he doesn’t mind putting in some extra work for the cleanup after

—————

Childe/Tartaglia

• this man did it on purpose, 1000%

• not surprised in the slightest, but visibly elated at the fact that he finally got his sweet, innocent (on the outside at least-) girlie to squirt for him

• yes, he had been working towards it ever since you first started getting intimate with each other

• he’s an ambitious guy, training and practicing to get better at everything he does, and sex with his girlie is no different

• he can be a huge jerk, both in the streets and in the sheets, but in the end your pleasure and enjoyment is definitely top priority

• and what will he do now that he’s achieved this goal? why of course he’ll keep adding onto it to keep maximizing your pleasure

• meaning overstimulation all the way baby, now even more than usual

• he always enjoys your whining and begging, even more so when you’re crying because everything is just too much

• but he will always just shush you with a smile, kissing away your tears and cooing "I know baby, I know… but you’ll need to bear with it for just a while longer, yeah? Do it for me angel"

—————

Tighnari

• "Oh? I didn’t know females could do that too. You must’ve enjoyed yourself a lot just now, darling" the man with the fox ears purrs, visibly fascinated

• he assumes you didn’t know you could do that either, else you surely would’ve told him before, right?

• meaning he’ll have to find out himself how to please you in a way that gets you this ecstatic again

• like Diluc, he’ll inquire what it was that you particularly enjoyed

• he’s more… detailed with his inquisitions though, and very prone to experiment

• he’ll be trying out variations of "methods" and techniques on you, curious to explore the various reactions he is able to draw from you

• and yes, he does take notes. actual notes.

• so congrats, you just managed to become the Forest Watcher Academic’s #1 test subject and are in for a LOT of fun (and work😭😭👋🏼)

—————

Kazuha

• "Mmm such a good girl for me.. You did so well my love"

• a very humble man, not smug about being the source of your immense pleasure (ofc he’s still somewhat proud tho)

• will thoroughly lick you clean and then scoop you up into his lap to pull you into a deep kiss, letting you taste yourself on his sinful tongue (quite the generous gesture, seeing as he himself loves the taste of you so much)

• will try to get you to squirt for him again in the future, but doesn’t make it his main goal

• he prefers to just enjoy the moment and the emotional intimacy between the two of you, a "goal" such as this would only sully the act for him

• he’s an extremely attentive lover in general, picking up on every little reaction you offer him upon his touch, so you will enjoy yourself to the fullest every time, whether you squirt or not

• on a side note: if you were to specifically ask him to make you squirt again, he will. he now definitely knows how, and who is he to deny his love the pleasure she wishes for?

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midnightsnyx · 3 months

Text

Matthew Tkachuk - All I Need

pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader requested: yes / no a/n: i haven't written a long one-shot in awhile but i really like this one! requests are open. word count: 1k

tw: bullying

masterlist ask box

You didn’t usually let it bother you; the whispers, staring, and anything else the other girls did. It wasn’t as bad when Taryn was at a game but those were far and few between lately so you had to endure it by yourself. It was different today though. Maybe it was because you had a fight with Matt before the game and let yourself dive into his comment sections on Instagram on any photos of the two of you. There were always nice ones, but the nasty ones were nasty. You know Matt spends hours reporting accounts and blocking them despite you telling him not to bother. People would find a way to criticize your relationship regardless of how many accounts he blocked.

It was how your argument that morning started. He was eating breakfast while you fed the cat, scrolling through Instagram and frowning. You knew right away what he was upset about and walked to where he was sitting and put a hand on his arm so he would look at you.

“They don’t bother me,” you lied but he shook his head and mumbled something along the lines of "well it should”, so you dropped your hand and walked away. You went to sit down in the living room to watch something and heard him cleaning his plate a few minutes later before he joined you on the couch. He was quiet but didn’t have his phone anymore so you thought that he was done with it.

“I could delete my Instagram,” he said suddenly, as if that was the solution to stopping the criticism.

“That’s ridiculous,” you said. “Wiping yourself from social media doesn’t stop the mean girls. They’re at games too.”

The minute you said it, you winced. You had been pretty good at not letting him know that the bullying was not strictly online. Taryn was nagging you to tell Matt exactly what was happening at games, but you didn’t want him worrying about it. You could ignore the things the girls said and just focus on the game.

Most times.

“What are you talking about? People are saying things to you at games too?”

You shrugged, ignoring his attempts at getting you to look at him.

“Girls like you, okay? They don’t think I’m good enough for you so they make comments.” You hesitated, but told him the same lie you always did. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“I’ll talk to them,” he said and you groaned in frustration.

“Yeah, like a parent confronting their child’s bully. I’ll pass, thanks.”

He argued with you for twenty minutes, saying that it would make things better if he confronted the other girls in the family seating area. It would just make it worse though, you knew it would. So in a moment of frustration, you told him if he talked to them, you wouldn’t go to anymore games.

It was a lie, and you both knew it but the two of you were so annoyed with each other by that point, that he left for the rink early. He still had at least an hour before he should’ve left and it put you in a sour mood. Enough that you considered not going to the game that night, but in the end you pulled on your Tkachuk jersey and made your way to the arena.

That brought you to this moment, listening to one of the girls purposely talking loudly about a bet they had placed on how much longer Matt would put up with you, despite the fact that the two of you had been dating for two years. You’d heard whispers about why he hadn't proposed yet multiple times, but you were able to ignore that because you and Matt had a serious talk about marriage and the fact that you wanted to wait a bit longer.

“He can do so much better,” one of them said and you bite your tongue, knowing that saying something will just feed into their fantasy. You’re not sure exactly what it is, besides their wishes for you and Matt to break up.

“Yeah, I mean just look at her.”

It takes everything in you not to turn around and say something to them but the game ends so you get up and leave. You’re not sure if Matt knows that you came to the game because you hadn’t texted him so you go down to meet him near the locker doors. The security guy nods when you flash your ID but you come down here so often that he knows you.

The Panthers lost, so you know Matt will be in a crooked mood but you still want to see him. While you’re waiting, the guys slowly trickle out of the locker room, nodding at you.

Finally, Matt walks out and stops short when he sees you. He wasn’t expecting you to come to the game tonight at least because of your fight so you give him your best attempt at a smile.

There’s a ten second pause before he walks over and wraps his arms around you and holds you gently. You’re pretty sure you stand there for at least five minutes before you pull away.

“I love you,” you tell him. “I love that you’d delete all your social medias, that you’d give the mean girls a lecture, and that you spend hours blocking and reporting accounts that say mean things about me.” You kiss him, smiling when he chases after you when you pull away. “But I promise, if it ever gets too much, I’ll tell you. I’m working on ignoring what everyone says, but in the meantime, all I need is you.”

He runs his thumb across your bottom lip and nods. “Okay.”

He pulls you into another hug and you let your head rest on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

“Also, I was totally considering slapping one of them silly tonight,” you say and you can’t see his face, but you know he’s grinning.

#hockey imagines #allies writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk x y/n

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sgiandubh · 2 months

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Out of the OL bubble

Sidenote: this post owes everything to the incredible sleuthing skills of an already longtime trusted friend, who wishes to remain discreet. All credit goes entirely to her - this is such an idiotic topic, yet the Ur Troll insists.

I answered one of you in the comment threads yesterday, that once you get the hell out of the OL bubble, things begin to make sense. Why? Well, because of distance and context, I suppose. And also because this always was the dirty little secret of our Dedicated Manipulative Trolls: to make you believe in a terribly poor narrative, fit for a linear world. A world without compromise, drama, secrets and lies. Collective lack of time, perspective and/or Internet research skills did the rest and gave birth to this monster: the OL Fandom.

We are now told and are supposed to believe that because Scottish Xena apparently chose on purpose (with this and only this, I could agree, but for opposite reasons) to show us she trains in a Cumbernauld gym, that means... well, you know the rest and it involves The Magic Golden Dirk. That troll was never exactly subtle, was she, bless her heart?

That mother and entrepreneur has a life of her own and an entourage of her own and business collaborations of her own and her own agenda. Some of it is shown on her Instagram account, most of it can be speculated. Connecting dots just for the sake of it is neither productive, nor remotely interesting.

Let's see, for example, how she reacts to a very insistent fellow German athlete, whom she is going to meet at the Hyrox Cologne event (13-14th of April, during the Landcon week-end):

😬😱

What is Flamingos Club? Nope, not an ikebana society, no:

Tee-hee.

They were there before, in good company, last year, when they actually first met (rings a bell?):

(April 2023, ok? I am still waiting for my own DeLorean)

Who is this guy?

Fellow athlete, HYROX Ambassador (something I bet the farm she wants to achieve) and a contestant in this year's German reality show First Dates Hotel, on VOX (https://www.vox.de/cms/sendungen/first-dates-hotel.html):

The concept is simple: a renowned German chef, Roland Trettl (no idea!) now takes his blind date cooking show to the next level, with singles from all over the country parked into a Spanish dream holiday resort (Mallorca), shake, stir and see whatever happens. The classical Endemol recipe, now produced by Twenty Twenty. It also has an UK version, running on Channel 4 (coincidence? I doubt that very much, thank you!).

On set, Max's 'love interest' is a certain Linda. He recently wrote her ' a sweet love letter', taking the good advice of his namesake cast friend Max-the-Bartender:

(I swear to God, I feel like I am prostituting my 🧠, right now).

There is obviously nothing to see, here (or is it, such as two wannabes desperately wanting limelight?). She leads the typical no strings attached life of a single mom and he is still looking for a real job:

Since VOX does not give his full name, neither will I. It took five minutes to find him, with a bit of luck.

Why on Earth would one connect that woman to S, rather than to this nice, ambitious Bavarian?

I know why. It's almost too damn easy.

Two words: Channel 4. Truman Show. Ginger and Fred (oops, these are Our Couple).

Is it anything we haven't seen before?

Nope. We've seen way worse. But gone are the Days of Flukenzie Floozy.

[Edited] - there is no need to further expose our people.

#fandom #shitshow

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ask-eden · 4 months

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Alaxia remains practically frozen in place, not even his tail was able to swish around like normal Almost as if he had stopped breathing on the spot Etoile fiddles with their own tail and continues to ramble on, not acknowledging the other mew's sudden stillness

Etoile: Do you keep it to appear cool? Not as a insult of course, I just know a long time ago I remember even your father went through a phase of "scars being cool" Etoile: Are scars still cool? Am I out of touch? Etoile playfully wiggles their tail tip in their hands and they giggle at themselves. Alaxia spoke suddenly, causing Etoile's pupils to snap over suddenly at him Alaxia: I... Keep it. For personal purposes. Not to appear a certain way to others. Alaxia: I can heal it but.. I don't want to. I want to remember it. Etoile raises a brow, a sharp trill purr of curiosity escapes them Etoile: Why would you want to remember a random giratina attacking you exactly?

Alaxia: Just. To remind myself that not every universe is happy to have visitors. That's all. Etoile: Hm. Do you still jump through random portals like you did when you were a kitten? Alaxia: Well. No. Etoile: Then I'm having some trouble understanding your reasoning. You've been attacked by things before, yet you don't keep those scars. Why not keep a scar to remind you not to mess with poison pokemon? Or the scar to remind you to not touch the hot spots on a typhlosion's neck? Alaxia remains silent for a moment, causing Etoile to lean in a bit closer Etoile: Plus, you seem to go out of your way to keep it covered all the time. Why keep it if you don't want to show it off? I bet it would be a hot ice breaker for any new person. Etoile: If I didn't know any better, I would think there is more to that scar than a random attack~ Are you hiding something from me Alli- Alaxia: NO. I'm not. It is just my first scar and I want to keep it. That's all. That's all there is to it. Etoile doesn't seem to jerk in surprise at Alaxia's sudden interruption, only their pupils turning into slits as they make eye contact with him.

Etoile remains silent for a moment, pupils flickering back and forth, looking Alaxia up and down with a unreadable expression. Alaxia dips his head a bit in respect, forcefully making himself smile awkwardly to try and apologize. Alaxia: Sorry for snapping, My Mew. I didn't mean to speak out of turn. Alaxia: I just.. Really want to hear what you have to say! It's not every day you have a private conversation with someone! Is something wrong? Alaxia forces another smile to appear friendly, despite the lies coming through his teeth. In all honesty he didn't care at all what Etoile had to say to him and wanted to be done with this mew. His mind already trying to think of another way to once again send Etoile on a pointless fetch quest. There is another small silence between the two, as Etoile stares for a moment longer before suddenly speaking once more in a cheery tone. As if the awkward conversation had never happened.

"..... what ....... "

#chrono #Alaxia #Etoile #sfw #plot #long post #glitch effect #glitch #intoxication #pokemon ask #pokemon ask blog #add alt text #alt text to be added

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rustingcat · 7 months

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Chapter 3 Kara

"For years I felt the weight of Krypton, its legacy and history laid on my shoulders, and I felt like a failure for never having the chance to educate Kal. But after learning about Argo, it's like some of this weight was lifted off my shoulders, knowing I'm not the only one out there who remembers, that it's not on me. Yet, I feel detached? I don't know, it feels different from what I remember. I mean it is different, it's nothing like how Krypton was, but they are all Kryptonians. You know what I mean?" Kara turned to Lena, she wasn't sure what she was hoping to find in her eyes, but it softened the moment they met.

"I think so." Lena nodded. "Although, considering that you were barely a teenager back then, it would make sense."

"I suppose." Kara swallowed hard.

They were sitting on Kara’s couch with the plans for the machine laying in front of them. It was two days after they had come back from Argo. Kara had managed to translate most of it, enough for them to at least start.

"You mentioned that you can basically control how the child would turn up with the matrix, right?"

"Not exactly, you can't control your child's every decision, but essentially yes. You can choose how they look, and you can choose their um… brain type? We had a name for it in Kryptonese."

"So did your parents choose what you would be?" Lena finally asked.

"In some ways, yes." She said a bit distanced. "They didn't care much about my appearance or gender, but they made sure my mind would be sharp, curious and analytical. Basically creating me to be a scientist before I was even born. And it worked, you know? I grew up loving it. As my dad said, I was the youngest person to be considered to join the science guild, and I bet I would've gotten in too."

Lena remained silent. Not that she expected her to say anything, but she wasn't sure what to do nex.

Kara took a sip of her water. Staring intensity into the plans, yet not really focused on them she continued talking. "I thought about it a lot, you know, how my life would look like had I grown up there. What could I have created, how many lives I could've improved, how much I could've advanced our species. But the more I think about it the more I realised how lucky I was to escape that fate." Kara finally dared to raise her head, meeting Lena's gaze as she felt her eyes fill with water. "Am I a bad person for thinking that?" Her voice broke as the tears started running freely down her face.

Lena scooted over, engulfing her dearest friend in a tight hug. "Not at all." She whispered in her ear. "There's nothing wrong about finding happiness. But we'll make sure that if we ever make this public we'll do our best so that no one could use it to put more pressure on anyone." She combed her fingers through her hair to ground her.

Kara exhaled a breath she wasn't aware she was holding. The reason the plans were not yet fully translated were not because of language complications or any math difficulties, but because she couldn't bring herself to complete it. It felt too heavy of a task.

"It's just- that I love my job. I love singing, painting, and playing games with my friends and I know that I would've never gotten to do any of that had I lived on Krypton. It was all about doing your part, and not much else. And there are still many many good things that I loved about Krypton and many problems I have with earth. But I still prefer to be here, and I feel awful about it. Like I failed everyone, I failed my purpose in life."

"You are Kara Zor-El Danvers. Your name tells a journey and your journey is not yet over. You are not a bad person for having emotions. You've been through a lot and you still came out on top. You are still so full of kindness, love, and hope. How can that be a failure? How can it be anything but the greatest thing in life? You are amazing Kara and I'm sure the rest of your journey would be just as amazing."

"Thank you." Kara whispered into her neck in a sob.

"How about we order another pizza and watch a movie instead?" Lena suggested, whispering quietly in her ear.

"Yeah," Kara smiled weakly. "That would be great."

#Kara learning to learn herself #a journey all by itself #supercorp #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #art #supercorptober #supercorptober2023 #my art #my fic

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suguwuus · 5 months

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Could you write a connor x daughter of Athena. Where she has been at camp for a year, but they have known each other for about two weeks and he flirts a little too much in training and she thinks he is being mean. but in the end they make up.

★ nice

oh em gee my first req i feel like spongebob on his first day with his shiny lil spatula and squeaky shoes

p.s. so sorry this took so long i was so very sick when you sent it in and then exam week left me bruised and broken and so sleepy 😭

wc: 2.4k words

Who the Hades is this guy? Or more like, who the hell does this guy think he is?

You stared at the hunched-over figure wiping your bronze weapon down with a cloth, whistling as he went. It was too casual for someone like him to be doing something like that, especially with your weapon.

You recognized him as one of those Stoll brothers. They had been at camp for almost as long as you had, yet it seems that he's been popping up and about into your business these past few days. And he had been doing it a lot. Offering to carry your things, greeting you good morning and good night, even going so far as to try and make your bed for you. It was strange. Suspiciously strange. And you didn't trust him. From what you've heard and seen around camp, he was a prankster, an awfully resourceful two-faced troublemaker who could ruin your day with two paperclips and a cup of orange juice.

You thought he was no match for you, though. After all, you were equally crafty and clever as well, if not more than him. You thanked your mother, Athena, for both those skills and the grace to notice the signs this early on.

Gods, what was the purpose of all of this? You couldn't figure him out. You had some ideas, some guesses, but you couldn't pinpoint anything exactly. You needed direct contact with him; you needed to observe him up close so you could finally see his true intentions. Did he get bored and were you his new target? Was he doing this for a bet? Did you do something recently to catch his attention?

So, it was strange. Strange that you two have been skirting around each other for the past few years, not talking unless forced to and if you did, you only exchanged small talk. Why was he now all up in your business? Was he plotting something? You remembered when he put a tarantula in your half-sister Annabeth's bunk. You thought that was the last time you'd see those two boys.

"You look like you're plotting to kill him."

You jumped. Said Annabeth stood behind you, holding a plastic bag full of something you could only guess was your cabin's deposit of trash. Every other morning someone would do this to keep the cabin clean—and every morning Connor would greet you. Today, he added an offer to wipe your weapon down. You reluctantly agreed, vulnerable at 7 in the morning.

You knew you shouldn't be driven by rumors and gossip, shouldn't judge a book by its cover. But your overly paranoid self just refused to try and get to know the boy.

You pursed your lips and turned to Annabeth, sucking in a breath. "What's he like?" You asked.

"A little shit," Annabeth replied, and your heart sank. "But," she continued. "He's a reliable little shit. He's not evil or anything like that. He just has a talent for getting on people's nerves, him and Travis. It's a Hermes kid thing. Why?"

You glanced nervously to the side. "He's been doing the absolute most for me recently. Asking if I need help with anything, greeting me every time we see each other. We're not close. We're not even close to being close."

Annabeth took a few moments looking over at him as well, a small smile on her face. "Hmm. Well, I can't say anything for sure. But there's a very low chance he's doing this out of malice."

You cringed. "So..."

"Just wait and see where this goes," She advised, swinging the plastic bag. "If he hurts you, beat him up." Then she went away.

You scratched your head, starting to walk away from your cabin. That was...sort of helpful? No worries. You could handle this. It wasn't everyday you dealt with someone with the first name Connor and last name Stoll, but it wasn't everyday that you climbed the lava tower, either, no? And you survived that. So how hard could a boy be?

Quite hard, as it turned out to be.

You watched him stand up, stuffing the dirty cloth in his pocket. He then looked around the camp, walking in circles as if searching for someone. You knew he was looking for you, so when he turned in your direction you reluctantly waved a hand, but not enough to be obvious or easily noticed in the bustle of the camp.

When he spotted you, he jogged up to you like an excited dog, haphazardly swinging your weapon. He held it out with calloused hands. "Here!"

"Thanks. Erm, Connor." You added his name for good measure and took your weapon back. You inspected it quickly. No tampering, as far as you could see. It was clean, too. You looked back up at him and nodded. He had done a decent job. An honest, decent job?

"Did you just wake up?" He blurted out, sporting a smile that made you feel...what, self conscious? His words didn't help.

"No, I've been doing errands while waiting for you." You kept your answer plain and simple. "Why?" Without realizing it, you smoothed out your shirt.

He saw where your hands were going and chuckled, his eyes crinkling as if you just cracked a joke that amused him twice as much as the average pun did. "Don't worry, sunshine, you're not the ugliest thing I've seen in my life."

And the he walked away whistling, probably going off to tie someone's shoelaces together to trip them up. What the fuck? You thought, still processing what had just happened. What was that all about? Don't worry, sunshine?

You bet Apollo was laughing at you from Mount Olympus with the way the sunlight was shining right onto your face as Connor walked away, blinding you as you stood there in confusion.

You eyes searched the assortment of campers for Annabeth, some tiny bit of support you could anchor yourself to. She wasn't there. No striking grey eyes of hers among the orange shirts. You grit your teeth, accepting your defeat.

Well, not exactly your defeat. Not yet, at least. Hopefully not.

You gave Connor your best glare as he walked up to you in the middle of the arena. He swung his sword in his hand back and forth as if this was a game to him. Luckily for you, you also saw it as a game. A fun game to try and get to learn a thing or two about him. You wanted to observe him, close up? Here was your chance.

Sword practice. Sparring. Percy as the instructor overseeing the match. Perfect.

"Shake hands, guys," He said, standing between you and Connor. He then nodded at the boy. "No cheating, alright? No extra tricks."

"Yeah, yeah," He said, tapping his foot. You saw how he seemed almost giddy, but when he met your eyes, his smile melted and he cleared his throat.

You held a hand out. He shook it, not taking his eyes off you. He had a serious expression on, devoid of all humor or teases. "Nice shirt," he mumbled. And then he was off, stepping backwards until he was a reasonable distance away from you.

Shaking the confusion out of your head, you got into position, holding your weapon as you adjusted your stance.

Percy gave the signal and you two were off, celestial bronze clashing against one another. Your ears rung and you tried to not let the sun blind you.

Frustratingly enough, you couldn't observe much except for his physical traits (a light spray of freckles across his nose bridge, a nasty looking scar on his knee and a bruise on the other one, a hand with only one fingernail painted cherry red; unsurprisingly enough for a son of Hermes, he seemed to be ambidextrous) and that he was awfully talkative.

"I might have trouble focusing, but I'm multitasking right now, see? Your face is distracting, but I can handle it." "You're nice to look at when you're cornered like this, you know? Cute and mad, I should piss you off more!" "I really like your lack of enthusiasm all the time!"

Parry. Strike. Slash. Clang! The tip of his sword grazed your jaw and you swiped at his shins. Contrary to his blabber, you stayed silent except for grunts and the like, determined to finish him off.

Someone in the audience of campers yelled for Connor to focus. Instead he laughed. Soon you ended up with your weapons pressed against each other, screeching as the material of each grinded against one another. You were face to face with him now.

"You seem a little rusty, maybe you should consider practicing with me—"

That was your last straw. You pushed him back, so hard that you ended a few feet away from him, and charged, but at the last second swung to disarm him from his waiting sword instead of striking. With your momentum, you wrapped an arm around his neck, pushing his head upward, and stepped behind him, holding your weapon to his throat.

Victory.

"You know, I'd say something, but I don't think it's very audience friendly, I think it should be reserved for someplace without overbearing coordinators or nine year olds," He giggled.

You released him after Percy gave you the signal. Of course, you had to be somewhat polite. So you maneuvered his body so he was facing you, standing properly now. You took his clammy hand and shook it, looking him straight in the eye.

"Good duel," You said, nodding, chest still rising and falling from the intense practice match.

"Yeah, yeah, good duel," Connor replied, stumbling over his words. "Percy didn't...didn't have any comments for us, y-yeah, that's...that's good, right?"

You nodded again, and he let go of your hand, swallowing and glancing at the floor. He wet his lips, as if there was something he was itching to say, something stuck in his throat.

"You...you have nice eyes." He walked away with something you might have called a scurry.

Tilting your head in utter confusion, you heard a voice and felt a hand tap your shoulder. You turned around to see a little girl of about 12 years old. Strands of her dark hair stuck to her chubby cheeks from sweat. "Return the compliment. That's pamahiin, you know." She shot a cautious glance at Connor's turned back.

"It's what?"

"Superstition where someone curses you in the form of a compliment. He's been saying all kinds of things since the start of your match!"

"That doesn't sound like a Greek superstition to me. Where'd you hear that?" The girl left before you could finish. You shook your head. Silly kids.

You decided you had some business to attend to, so you jogged after Connor, following him down the path to the archery range.

"Hey," you called. "Connor!"

He slowly turned around, looking anxious. "...Yes?"

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"You're being strange. You kept talking during sword practice—you never do it that much, and you keep offering to do things for me. Are you following me around? Why did you compliment my shirt out of the blue right before we started?"

His brain seemed to load. And then he smiled. "You watch me during sword practice?"

"Sometimes, when there's nothing else to watch. The point is, you're acting off!"

He cleared his throat. "Well, erm, you know, I've just been seeing you around and I wanted to get to know you more. Wait, I complimented your shirt? We're all wearing the same ones."

You stepped closer. "No, are you up to something? Trying to get under my skin? Everything you say is somewhat backhanded and it feels like you're planning to get me in trouble, or both of us in trouble. If you don't like me, just say it straight to my face." You clenched your fists as you finished.

His expression morphed and looked horrified. "Oh, my Gods. No, I'm sorry."

You stared hard, waiting for him to explain himself.

"Shit, Y/N. That, uh...that wasn't...oh man, I didn't mean for it to come out like that. I mean, I am mouthy all the time, but I didn't want you to think of it like that! I do, I'm complimenting you, I guess we just don't match up in terms of what's a 'nice' gesture or not.

"I'll say it straight, then. I'm being nice to you, trying to say nice things. Because I think you're nice."

You raised a brow. "...Nice?"

"Yes, nice. And I really liked practicing with you. And greeting you in the morning and at night. And you. I like being nice to you even if you don't understand my little pickup lines sometimes."

"So you weren't trying to be mean?"

"No, absolutely not."

"Ah...okay. I see. That's...fair. I guess I was just paranoid." You slowly nodded, understanding his defense. You could see him nervously putting his thumbs through his belt loops.

"Mhm." He looked to the side. "Oh, and by the way, maybe the thing I said this morning was confusing, you're not ugly at all, I think you—everything about you, is very, pleasing to the eye."

You chuckled. "—Is nice."

He let out a relieved laugh at how you had caught on. "Yes, exactly that. Oh," He perked up, looking behind your shoulder. When you followed his gaze you saw some campers walking towards him, and they did not look very happy. He put his sword back into his scabbard and tied his shoelaces, which had come undone.

So he was a prankster. Obviously. But he wasn't as bad as you thought. Not mean, just a little mischievous at times. You definitely were just paranoid. It's not everyday you got that many compliments. Puzzling ones that needed comprehension, yet still compliments. And he was easy to talk to. Not mean at all. Come to think of it, you hadn't fallen victim to his or Travis's pranks lately, not in a long while—

"That's my cue," he reached over and awkwardly patted your shoulder, averting your gaze. Despite that, he was smiling ear-to-ear. "See you sometime, okay? Bye!"

"Bye...!" And he dashed away, leaving you beaming in amusement. Wait, pickup lines? Those were pickup lines to him?

Nice? Nice as in flirting?

#— suguwuu's posts #connor stoll #connor stoll x reader #pjo #pjo oneshots #pjo x reader #OCHO MENTION 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 (no one here knows who she is)#merry christmas sorry this was saur late omfg #connor kissed me under the mistletoe stay safe yall xx #me when im delusional #guys im going delirious actually #charlie bushnell is so fine but i feel like im cheating on connor #girl that is NAWT your man that's his antagonist older half brother

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emry-stars-art · 11 months

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Just read the whole 'how Andreil pans out' ask and all I'm saying is that I love the idea of Andrew Courting Abram and Abram just absolutely misses that it's what is happening. Part of it is just a cultural difference, Evermore and Palmetto have different courting cultures perhaps?

Another part is that Andrew really does not act all THAT different. He's giving Abram gifts but like Andrew is always giving Abram stuff? It's not new? Yeah they had dinner together but that's just like what they......do?

Another another part is just Abram not even considering himself as someone worthy to be with Prince Andrew like that. He wasn't worthy before and after Evermore and everything I could imagine he feels even less like a person let alone a person who deserves Andrew's positive regard.

IDK I just love the idea of Abram at some point like 6 months into Andrew trying to court him seeing that behavior somewhere else, being told that's how nobility in Palmetto court others, and going to Andrew like "Have you, perchance, been trying to court me?"

Andrew setting his glass aside and looking up from where he's seated, "For 6 moons Abram, glad you've finally noticed." - @jtl-fics

jtl I. Wish. You could have seen my face as I read this, this is so hilarious and heartbreaking and lovely all in one and I’m in LOVE okay i love this so much. And we can totally make it work ahhhhh

Like yes! Yeah! Andrew’s already a gift giver, it’s just what he does as far as Abram’s concerned, and they spend so much time together that dinner isn’t strange those are perfect points. Like to the court it’s starting to become obvious - maybe in the kinds of gifts Andrew gives, or some other small things that are new, yes, but Abram has always taken these things in stride and usually his lack of judgement when Andrew tries new things or changes in little ways is a huge relief but not this time Abram PLEASE

Finally Andrew just bites the bullet and goes for a gesture that’s way more out of character and harder to mistake, which might look something like this (and thank you @leedee013 for tags about them giving each other flowers that I LOVED):

And Abram can’t really form his thoughts into words because like you said; he doesn’t think he should be allowed something like that, there’s no way he’s ever EVER going to assume that Andrew is trying to confess or clue him in to a courting like this, even if it’s in his head now

But then Lady Reynolds sees Abram later heading back to the castle/wherever he stays carrying this bouquet of carnations (fascination), narcissus (honesty/truth) and acacia (hidden love) (let’s not look too closely into these flower meanings lol, i picked the first ones I found and I’ll field all further questions with ‘artistic liberty’ 🫶) and they’re pretty close friends by now so she’s immediately like “oh my GODS Abram who gave that to you”

And Abram quietly says “the prince”

And Allison’s won like three separate bets between various other people of the court and she’s elated

But maybe she takes pity on him when she realizes exactly how clueless Abram is, so she does her best to explain everything and finally, Abram begins to allow the possibility that maybe Andrew is doing all this on purpose. But he would really rather like to be certain.

And of course I had to draw your little exchange but I did it from memory so apologies for the changes in dialogue but I love it:

ANYWAY from there, when it’s cleared up, it’s just them being dumb and sweet and grasping at straws for how to be in love and natural about it (because they’re both very private people and a good number of average/expected acts of courtship aren’t necessarily in their wheelhouse) 😭🥹 and not to add yet more hurt/comfort but Andrew is so so determined to figure out a way to assure and reassure Abram that he knows what he’s doing, yes Abram is worth it, yes he’s doing these things because he wants to. If he didn’t want to he wouldn’t be doing it in the first place. And I’ll bring it back around by using my previously mentioned artistic liberty to say that yes Prince Andrew loves having his hands held/kissed (just by Abram naturally) and Abram figures this out and absolutely uses it against him. They love each other your honor

Okay anyway thank you for the ask, I’m SO lucky to have such brilliant people in my inbox 🥰

#STG I WAS SMILING SO BIG WHEN I READ IT THROUGH #yeah they probably would have very different traditions! I like that a lot!#so it’d be even funnier when Abram finally calms down and relaxes into it #and yeah they can do flowers that works fine #but he probably accidentally/as a last effort tries some traditions from his native kingdom #they’re trying so hard but it’s a little lost in translation #ships passing in the night #they’re hopeless and I love them #GOD KEVIN WOULD HAVE TO DO THE TRANSLATION OF THE DIFFERENT CUSTOMS #He wants out of it so bad but there’s literally no one else to ask 😂😭#idk if either of them would ever deign to involve or ask Kevin but now I’m laughing #anyway I need to stop or I’ll never shut up about this #thank you this is great #fan art #my art #aftg #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #allison reynolds #royal au #asks #chibi

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kenny-the-ken · 1 year

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can you do a fic where kenny steals himself a hot goth gf from the sp goth kids?:) BUT she’s a dominatrix

Dark Seductress

ALL AGED UP CHARACTERS!!! Warnings!!! nsfw content, dirty talk

Kenny was besotted with you, he had been for about a year, it was more than a crush at this point, in fact, all his friends knew about it, and teased him for it. As if a 21 year old would go for someone a year younger than them, but Kenny didn't care, every time you passed him in the hallways of your college he felt his breath catch in his throat.

He had to do something about this, and quick. But you were so out of his league. You didn't seem the type to be attached to an average guy, not to mention that Kenny wasn't exactly rolling in cash either, which only made him even more self conscious. But he needed an answer, god he hoped you'd say yes.

Kenny knew you and your small group of friends sat out the back of the college, smoking cigarettes and chatting shit about everyone else. You were a goth, normally not Kenny's type, but by god were you perfect.

Long, black hair that cascaded down your back, and today he couldn't help but let his mind wander, you were wearing a leather corset top, that had straps a over your breasts in the shape of a pentagram, that connected round your throat, a black, pleated skirt, with chains and leather straps that hung in long loops from its waistband, fishnet stocking that were held up on your leg by a garter you wore under your shirt skirt, and a large pair of black platform boots, with straps and buckles across them.

Kenny swore you dressed like this on purpose, just for him to see, and when he saw your friends getting up to head to their classes, he watched on, seeing you stay seated on the step you were on, taking a long drag of your cigarette.

This was his chance! And by god he was going to take it! Kenny made his way over to you, trying his best to channel his typical confident swagger. And he approached you, stopping in front of you.

"Mind if I sit here?" Kenny questioned, and you held out your hand to where the others previously sat, indicating that he could indeed sit with you.

There was a small silence, as you opened up your cigarette box, plucking one from it before holding it out to Kenny, offering one to him.

"Thanks." Kenny shot you a gappy smile, taking one from the box and pulling a lighter from his pocket, both of you now smoking together in silence.

"What's your name?" You asked, turning slightly so you could see him better, cocking a brow, as he pulled down his orange parka hood, his messy blonde locks escaping from their prison.

"I'm Kenny. Kenny McCormick. And you are?" He asked, not that he didn't already know, but he didn't want to come across like a creep.

"I'm y/n. It's nice to meet you, Kenny. I'm surprised you spoke to me, most people think we're scary." You teased, a laugh emanating from both of you.

"You're not scary at all, just really fuckin' hot." Kenny spoke, taking a drag of his cigarette, and you did the same, exhaling the smoke as you spoke.

"That's good to know, personally I think you're a little cutie. I bet you'd look perfect tied up beneath me." You pushed further, and Kenny's cheeks shone red, almost lost for words.

"So you like to be dominant then?" Kenny questioned his eyebrow quirked in interest. Personally, till this point he'd never really thought of a woman dominating him, liking to be the dominant partner himself, but he reckons it would be pretty hot to be completely under your spell, I mean let's face it, he already was.

"I mean, I like to switch, I like to be submissive too, but I also like being the dominant party too." You replied, stubbing your cigarette out on the floor beside you. And Kenny had a smirk on his face, sitting now on the step beside you, his hand on your thigh as he took one last drag of his cigarette, flicking the butt away, blowing the smoke from his mouth, and leaning closer to you ear.

"I mean, I'd let you have your way with me anytime. All you gotta do is ask." Kenny whispered, and you smirked back at him, surprised slightly by his confidence, but wanting to see how submissive he really could be.

You shifted your body ever so closer to him, your own hand moving to grip his thigh, dangerously close to his groin, and delivering a hard squeeze to it, making Kenny gasp ever so slightly.

"Then how about you come over tonight and you can show me what you're made of." You teased, Kenny's cheeks flushed as he nodded quickly, eyes wide and focused on you.

"I'd fuckin' love that." Kenny breathed out, his cock already starting to swell in his jeans, you could feel the fabric tightening, your hand still on his thigh, and you leaned closer to him, scoffing slightly.

"Aw look, you getting hard for me already, hm? So responsive." You teased further, as Kenny's teeth caught his bottom lip, and he was sure he was going to draw blood he bit down that hard.

"I'll send you my address. See you tonight, pretty boy." You spoke before standing, knowing from where Kenny was sitting he had a perfect view up your skirt, and by god was he glad he looked, you wore lace red panties, and he swore he came in his pants just looking at you.

You turned on your heel and walked away from him, glancing back to send him a quick wink, what had he gotten himself into? And why was he the most excited he'd ever been about a sexual encounter in his life?

Let me know if y'all want a part 2, cause I am so down for that 🫢

#kenny mccormick #kenny south park #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick smut #stan marsh #eric cartman #kyle south park #kyle brovlofski #stan south park #south park #south park kenny #south park x reader #south park x y/n #sp kenny #kenny sp #south park fanfiction #fanfic #south park boys

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 2 years

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Hohoho~ I've just of an idea and you know what? This one goes out to you, @im-totally-not-an-alien-2.

Enemies to Lovers this. Fake Dating/Relationship that. Let's combine the two. Brain Dead style.

Danny is a thief. It started off with him stealing back ghostly artifacts and snowballed when he got commissioned to steal back a family heirloom that had been stolen/lost way back when. With a hefty reward of course. Danny doesm't exactly have the time to track down some heirloom through time, obviously, but he's a struggling college student at Gotham U and WOW that's a lot of 0s. So he does the next best thing. He goes back in time and gets the family heirloom right before it 'disappears'. With a job well done, he gets recommended to someone else. This continues and he grows to have quite the repuation. Que the arrival of Tim Drake.

Someone's been kicking up a fuss about some thief who's been stealing quite the pricy items, but that's not exactly on his radar, you see? HOWEVER! This mysterious thief IS person of interest on a murder case. And thus, Red Robin is on their trail.

Eventually, it culminates to a certain prickly situation. And by that, I mean, Tim knows that Danny is the thief. DANNY knows that Tim is Red Robin. Neither of them can risk outing the other without outing themselves. But Tim always has a plan and he's getting closer and closer to cracking this case and, quite possibly, bringing Danny down too.

So what does Danny do? He uses Tim as his alibi. For every time Danny is out stealing something, and someone asks where he's going or where he'd been at these certain times, what does he say? He says he was with Tim Drake. And Tim can't do anything to stop him. Not without outing himself anyways, and it doesn't help that Danny has somehow gotten ahold of his schedule to make sure that Tim can't use any other alibi. So he goes along with it.

Everyone thinks they're dating. Tim is quietly seething and frustrated, and unwillingly impressed. Danny just wishes that Tim would get off his back.

I'd love to hear an addition to this. Have a great day!

Oh gods, I love this! Did Danny get framed for murder cause I can't see him just running around killing people. Maybe it was his parents who accidentally killed someone and didnt realize it and Dannys DNA was left at the crime scene. Maybe they purposely killed someone and planted Phantoms hair there or something to "prove all ghosts are evil" or whatever.

Maybe Vlad tried to frame Danny for murder. Maybe (and this is my favorite) Danny legitimately killed Vlad either by accident or in self defense and since Vlad had willed everything to either Danny or his mom he knew the cops and ensuing media storm would never believe him.

So he ran.

Danny gets awkward whenever Tim/Red Robin brings up the murder and swears it isn't what it looks like but refuses to explain any further, even if it makes him look more guilty when he doesn't.

Dannys alibi falls apart after Tim deviates from his schedule and is on camera at the library alone or if one of his brothers says "he was with me" and Tim confirmed it, or the waynes disguise someone as Tim and give him an out that way. Maybe have fake Tim and/or fake Red Robin in the same room together to make it seem like there was no way they were the same person.

Unfortunately Phantoms comes up with another believable (and slightly embarrassing) alibi before he pulls the same trick as Tim with his duplicates. Bam, they're once again at an impasse.

This rivalry does not deter people from believing that they are either dating or super into eachother. Danny flirting with him so much doesn't help.

Worst of all his siblings are betting on when-not if- when they get together.

How dare!

#the alien answers #i hope you have a great day too #i love this one #so juicy #wait till tim finds out about ghost hunting equipment #like what if they both get caught in a trap meant for Phantom and tim discovered danny cant phase them out of it #theyre stuck for a bit and are forced to make uncomfortable small talk #they bond while being tied up in fenton fishing line #that or theyre tangled up in it and are untangling themselves as they chat

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adamstanheightsleftshoulder · 2 months

Text

go on, roll your eyes || adam stanheight

SMUT!!!!! (minors dni tq)

x afab!gn!reader | 2306 words

this is my first time um ever writing smut for public consumption so i would love to start off by saying i do not know what i am doing! eye yam raw dogging this <3

id also love 2 say ily 4ever hot girls love saw discord server for literally inspiring this whole thing,, enjoy spotting things we said in chat :3

Adam’s main goal is to make your eyes look directly into the back of your own head - conveniently, this is one of the things he does best. He barely has to try.

Doesn’t stop him from always giving it his all, though.

And he loves it. Loves it.

Loves the way you lose yourself, the way your head falls back and you say his name like it’s the only part of reality your brain has held onto.

It happens when you’re at the mall - and God only knows why you’re even there, neither of you particularly like the mall - as he watches you in the afternoon sun from the skylight above. Watches you like you’re his world.

For all intents and purposes, it’s been a perfectly normal and sweet afternoon.

“I’m just saying this mall wouldn’t have the reputation it does if anybody cleaned up after themselves,” You say, leaning on the food court table, “I mean look at that guy- five bucks says he gets up and leaves everything right where it is,”

“I’m not taking that bet, we both know you’re right,” Adam laughs and presses a kiss to your cheek, gentle smile on his face.

You watch as the aforementioned guy stands up from where he was eating, wipes his hands on his pants, and abandons everything on his table - six steps away from a bin.

Time seems to slow down for Adam as you roll your eyes at the sight. His eyes glaze over - you, tangled in the sheets, twitching, on cloud 9. He feels like he’s there now, buried deep in you, filling you up, his teeth sinking into your collarbone and your nails in his back.

His smile drops, his heart flutters, and… oh, there goes a rush of blood. How strange, such an innocuous motion can cause Adam to just about see stars.

“What’s up with you?” You ask, confused smile on your face. He doesn’t budge. He’s white knuckled, gripping the table. “Seriously, Adam, what’s going-“

But you recognise that look in his eyes. You know the way his breath stutters.

Adam is falling apart. There is a tent growing under that table.

Suddenly a warm, trembling hand is on your wrist and you’re being dragged away from the table, leaving everything behind (and becoming the same as the person you were just mocking).

Before you really even register you’ve left the food court and entered somewhere else, your back is against a cool tiled wall and he’s pressed against you like he’s trying to crush you.

“God, you get me so worked up, you don’t even have to try,” His voice is a low rumble, halfway between a growl and a desperate plea.

“You can’t be serious,” You whisper into his ear as he kisses down your neck, “From one little eye roll?”

Suddenly his hand is on your face, gentle but firm, holding you in place so you have to maintain eye contact.

He can read it in your eyes, you’re no good at hiding it, not from him. He’s got you wrapped around his finger by now. You want him BAD.

He smirks, drinking in the sight of you like this. He hasn’t even touched you yet.

“If that’s all you think you did, then go on,” He challenges, and as he presses himself somehow even closer to you you can feel just how rock hard he is, “Roll your eyes,”

“Make me,” You bite back, and Adam just grins.

“Oh, I intend to,”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply. He kisses you feverishly, like he’s on death row. His left hand stays on your face and his right drifts to your hip, his fingers digging into the flesh so hard he can feel the bone under his thumb. He presses one knee in the space between your legs.

You whimper into his mouth and he groans. He knows exactly what this mix of pain and pleasure does to you. He knows that he’s ripping you into ruin.

Adam then drops to his knees, like this bathroom stall is Church and you are holy.

His eyes are wide and pleading, he looks almost hungry, like he’s been in the desert for a thousand years and you are a blessed mirage.

He looks at you like he’s going to eat you whole. In a way he is.

Adam raises his eyebrows for a second, just a twitch, as if to ask if you’re sure you want him doing this. You nod with vigour. How could you not want this? Adam and his perfect lips…

Your head falls back as he unzips your jeans, yanks them down with the gusto of someone who’s been waiting to unwrap their present for years.

Your hand finds his hair. He lets a pathetic little groan fall from his lips in response - it gets louder when your nails graze his scalp.

“God, look at you. Fucking barely holding it together,” He quips, kissing up your thighs, “Eager little whore,”

You try to speak, try to banter back; tell him he’s being mean. He swings one of your legs over his shoulder before you can, and he takes the words out of your mouth as he teases his fingers under the very edge of your underwear. He laughs low in his throat as your hips roll against nothing. He wants you so bad he could tear you to shreds about it.

“Use your words,” He breathes, “C’mon, baby. You’re not that far gone yet, talk to me,”

“Please,” Whispered like a prayer, “Please, God, Adam- Please,”

“Good enough,”

He tucks your underwear out of the way with one hand, his breath makes you quiver just a little as it hits your sensitive skin.

“Needy slut,”

One hand firmly gripping your thigh and the other allowing him access, Adam kisses along the very very sensitive inside of your thigh, until he reaches right beside the dripping wet, wanton hole that belonged, truly, to him.

Oh, yes. Adam wants you to see stars. Adam wants you to walk out of here on legs made of jelly. Adam wants to make those eyes roll.

He presses his tongue flat against that bundle of nerves he knows how to find so well, and you cry out in a strangled voice - “Adam!”. He flicks his tongue and you twitch.

Adam has never been this hard in his LIFE. His jeans are suddenly a prison. But he has to take care of you first, he has to make the risk of a public bathroom worth it.

“God you taste perfect, baby,” He whispers, and then his tongue is right back where it was a second ago.

There’s little gentleness involved. It’s like he’s trying to find a way to say he loves you, but the only way he can is through devouring.

His tongue is harsh in its flicking, in how he focuses hard on your already sensitive clit, the way his nose gets pressed against you makes you worry he might hurt himself - but there’s no sign of him stopping. If anything he’s getting worse.

Every noise you make eggs him on. Tentatively at first, he presses one long finger inside of you. When your back arches off the tile, you feel the way he moans, before he pulls the first one out only to add a second finger.

He’s like clockwork. You manage to find the will to look down again, to find he’s closed his eyes, focussed.

He curls a finger inside of you, and you’re ashamed to admit how close you are to coming undone already. You don’t have to admit it though, Adam knows. He can feel you clenching around him, and if he had the brains right now to do it he might just laugh at how desperate you are.

His fingers pound now, setting a pace that is quick and even but rough. Adam needs you. Adam could cum in his jeans right now from the way you squirm on his fingers alone.

You rock back and forth against his face and he just about loses his mind. HIS eyes are in danger of rolling back. He eats you out like a man starved, like he’s begging for more despite being the one in control.

It takes you over before you realise you’ve reached that point - no warning, and you’re jerking back and forth, a twitching mess, fingernails in his scalp - and you cum. It washes over you, and you have to grab Adam’s shoulder for stability.

If he didn’t know any better, if he didn’t know what you always wanted (more), he’d stop here. Thank God Adam knows better.

He retracts his fingers and watches as you clench on instinct around nothing. He wipes his mouth a little, but not enough to wipe the taste away. The taste he savours, the taste he craved and craves more often than he should ever admit.

A wreck. He’s making a wreck of you.

He stands, letting your leg fall back to where it can try to support you.

You practically fall into his firm chest, and he chuckles down at you.

“Good, hm?” He asks, as if he’s not sure, “You terrible thing,”

You can only hum in response, half sex-drunk, clinging onto him for dear life.

“Can’t get enough, can you?”

He’s teasing you? This is his fault! That asshole-

You whimper again, and he comes undone.

“Fine,” He concedes, making quick work of his own jeans, “Ready?”

You in fact started to nod before he’d even finished saying ‘ready.

And then, bliss - you feel him start to line his thick cock up with your entrance, the very tip of the head poking just inside.

You feel like you could gush just at that contact.

He kisses you quickly as he presses himself in, catching the cry of pleasure and surprise that you let out between his lips. He groans, deep in his throat - a deeply, deeply satisfied sound. Adam’s been waiting so patiently.

“Taking me so well,” his whisper fans across your face and you lose any contact with the world of words.

Adam doesn’t wait any longer because he CAN’T. He pulls himself almost all the way out, only to slam himself back in again a second later.

Adam fucks you like he hates your guts. Like he detests everything about you so much he has to rearrange your insides into something he can stand.

“A-Adam,” You choke out, and if it weren’t for the hand he’s just begun to rest on your cheek, you’d forget that he loves you. The harsh feeling of his teeth in your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder… you’d be forgiven for forgetting that he’s capable of being gentle. You roll in time with the violent pace he’s set, your hips slapping together so hard you know it’ll bruise.

“G…God,” He breathes against your now bruised neck, “You’re so good,”

Your core tightens and you know the second orgasm is coming, quickly. You cry against him, fingers digging into his back.

“Go on,”

It’s like it was a taught command. He tells you, you cum.

He’s nowhere near done yet. He’s got too much in mind. He can’t stop until you’re all but faded away from that pretty little head of yours. Until you forget your own name, but remember his.

His pace never lets up, never even pauses. You’re making sounds that are obscene, bordering on pornographic, and if Adam wasn’t so determined he’d bust right here and now.

Your head is pressed against the tile again, crying out like an animal in heat, when his hand covers your mouth and he stops moving completely.

A whine comes from you, unwillingly. You’d be embarrassed of the sound if you could be right now.

“Sh, sh sh. Someone’s going past,” He whispers, pressing his sweaty forehead to your own, “Wait, baby. Don’t want to get caught, do you?”

You shake your head but your body betrays you. Adam watches, jaw dropping a little at just how fucking perfect you are as you squirm around him. He’s still fully inside, fully sheathed. He’s hitting every place in there and he’s STOCK STILL. It feels cruel, crueller when you realise how much he’s enjoying watching you suffer in the stillness.

You whimper against his hand, and he only presses it to your face further.

“Stay quiet,”

There’s a threatening edge to his voice and it doesn’t take long to realise why. The thumb of the hand that’s not desperately silencing you reaches down and plays with your clit - you could explode at this point. He barely has to do much, you’re squirming so hard and he’s so close to letting go inside of you-

It seems he decides the threat to your privacy is gone, and your torture is over, as he kicks back into action like a machine again.

He loses himself, now, it’s his turn. The most desperate sounds you’ve heard him make echo on the bathroom walls.

“God- Fuck, fuck- baby, I- Can I- Please, please, can I- I need to, I-“ He stutters against you, getting a little sloppy but no less violent in his thrusts, “Let me fill you,”

You keen and he takes it as a green light, painting your insides white with his orgasm, and your third of the day comes crashing over you as he grunts your name.

Everything gets tensed for a moment - his fingers in the skin of your face and your hip, his jaw. His head falls to your shoulder for a second. He catches his breath, slow final thrusts pushing his own spend in and back out of you.

He looks at you now, assessing the job he did.

“You beautiful thing,” He pants, swallowing harshly, “There they go. Those fuckin’ eyes,”

#I DONT KNOW WHAt I AM DOING #richie dont look #I love you hot girls love saw discord #this is for u #especially neon skunk and vamoose #adam faulkner stanheight #adam stanheight x reader #saw fanfiction

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