#𝜗𝜚 new fics ! . ݁ ⁺₊

[venuscameron]

begging for u. ┆ bellamy blake.

you’re bent over the edge of his makeshift bed, legs spread as he stood behind you, one hand pressing on your lower back to keep you down while the other is between your thighs

“mm, bell.” you whine, gripping the sheets as you lifted your ass up, wiggling it softly, “please,”

“the fuck you begging for?” he huffs, his hand moving from your back to your hair, grabbing a fistful before lugging your head back, “what makes you think you’re owed anything?”

his hand comes down on your ass in a harsh slap, your eyes squeezed shut as your skin stung from the force, letting out a cry as he did it again, and again until your asscheek was bright red and your legs were twitching

you tried desperately to focus on the burning knot in the pit of your stomach, hoping he wouldn’t notice as you clenched around his fingers as your high was growing closer and closer

“m’ sorry,” you cried, whimpering as his fingers curled inside of you, “won’t ever-- ever do it again,” you breathe, moving your hand behind you and wrapping your fingers around his wrist as to halt his movements, but you’re too weak to do so

bellamy let go of your hair causing your head to fall forward, your face being mushed against the pillow as you clung to it, biting on it as an attempt to quiet your moans

you feel as he leans over you, “think this whole camp oughta here how desperate you are for me, hm?” he teases, a hint of whiskey on his breath as he spoke

bellamy’s words caused your cheeks to flush as the thought of everyone in camp hearing clouded your head, “no,” you whined, “no, bell,” you cried, “i’ll do whatever you say,”

he moves his arm up around your neck, lifting the top half of your body up while he lifts his knee pressing your hips down against the bed, trapping you underneath him, “yea? gonna be good for me?”

you nod, “let me come,” you beg, turning your head to look up at him, giving your best pout as you did so

bellamy’s lips curled up into a smirk as he slowly pulled his fingers from your cunt, your slick running down your thighs as you whimpered from the loss of contact

your eyes stung as the tears began to fall down your cheeks, “s’ hurts, huh?” he questioned, his thumb wiping away the tears as you nod up at him

bellamy stands up straight, pulling you up on wobbly legs with him, as he brings his hand around you, using his knee to separate your legs, “please, bellamy.”

he pressed his lips to the side of your face in a sweet kiss as his fingers slid over your throbbing clit, the small action causing you to let your head fall back on his shoulder as you let out a breathy whine,

“gonna wait til’ i tell you baby?” he whispers, his fingers slipping inside of you in the middle of his sentence, “mm’hm,”

“that’s good princess, s’ realllll good.”

[bambiesfics]

Cock in a Gloryhole - Ellie x reader

𝜗𝜚 Author’s notes ✦ public sex, reader deepthroating Ellie’s cock (strap-on), Ellie cums untouched, Ellie yearns for readers lips, very hyper-sexual descriptions. Ellie’s strap is almost exclusively referred to as a cock/dick/etc, pining, missed connection. This is a filthy fic.

Ellie’s a slutty gay and very judgmental.

!!! [please help palestine] !!!

kisses u. ⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡.

Ellie slid her converse off of the toilet handle. The brazen girl fished for her pants’ zipper. She held her cock in one hand, and fought with the zipper with the other. The cheap metal wasn’t fastening over the straps on her hips, it was catching on her harness. “Jesus fuck. Now? Seriously?”

She rolled her eyes and smoothed her bangs down. After a few beats, the bored brunette circled the stall, then slumping against the chipped navy door. Cock in hand, balls barely zipped up. She chuckled to herself, there was probably some stupid fucking metaphor for that out there somehwere. She wasn’t going to step out like that, with the veins of her dick saying “hi” over her half zipped pants? Fuck. No. It wasn’t in the cards. But the zip wasn’t budging. Ellie felt a scowl forming; The kid was pissed. She didn’t have time for this, not now. Not when there was a gorgeous service teller at the center that she’d been mentally undressing for the better part of her visit. A woman who belonged on her knees, in front of Ellie. A woman with the perfect mouth to suck dick clean. Ellie toe’d her converses on the dirty grout lines hatch marked across the tile floor. The repetition of it lulled her into a meditation as she contemplated how to escape this awkward mess she somehow tripped headfirst into. Getting into awkward shit like this was her forté, but the benefits of packing far outweighed the headaches.

The stall next to her swung open, the clacking heels were rhythmic and sharp. Feminine little steps. A woman sat down, and did her business as she hummed. Ellie scaled her eyes along the bathroom wall that separated her and the lady. The wall was grotty. Old and well worn from years of servicing and decades of business. The maintenance was abysmal on its best day, and it made for a pleasant surprise when Ellie’s eyes zero’d in on the hole carved out haphazardly. There were still pieces of drywall sticking out past the lament of duck tape all around the hole. Ellie chuckled grimily, just high enough that the woman paused her rustling once the realization that she wasn’t alone had settled. The prick-fucking developers who were responsible for this project definitely forgot to remodel this bathrooms stalls’ when they added a new male bathroom to the bottom floor of the building. The little glory hole had a glaring missing chunk of ‘wall’ from its separation of the two stalls, and it’d had that for years from the looks of it. It had a bunch of old thin splinters of amber oak and drywall sticking out. The eyesore pointed to the empty hole like a pair of flashing neon arrows pointing to a seedy Las Vegas strip club.

Ellie doubted it got used much, if at all. If any of the prissy women who sat down to release themselves understood why there was a giant fucking hole the size of a two baseballs stacked vertically in their bathroom stall. Nah, Ellie mused. They definitely just kept their gaze straight ahead if they noticed anything amiss. A prim attempt at respecting the other woman’s privacy. Except, the irony was in the fact that, the point of that hole carved in the wall, the hole yelling “FUCK ME,” was to trample all over another stranger’s privacy. To proclaim yourself a king with a heavy cock and see if they’d submit to it.

Ellie stroked her cock, squeezing the base then working her way to the tip, warming it up in her hands. She unzipped the rest of her pants, and let the balls spring free. The balls dropped a little past the zipper, it took the edge off the pressure in her leather jeans. Mmm, now this felt right.

She took a tentative step forward, debating her next step. But then she rolled her anxiety off her back. Undulating those fast twitch muscles that lined her back to stretch and warm, to relax. It wasn’t that serious. Call it “part of the plot,” call it whatever you want. But what Ellie wanted to do was going to be insanely amusing. She needed the amusement if she was gonna be stuck here until her zipper decided to cooperate. Ellie’s converses padded to the wall, it’s toe box lined up with the bottom of it. Nosing against the edge. She lined up her cock with the glory hole and slowly fed the hole inches of her cock, until she bottomed out and her balls were trapped between her hairy pelvis and the wall. She held her breath. Her palms scaled the wall. The woman on the other side gasped, Ellie could only imagine how she clutched her hand to her chest and scrambled to pull her bag up over her shoulder. Ready to run to building security and report the “creep” in the ladies bathroom stall. The creep was Elizabeth “I <3 pussy” Williams with her cock fucking a glory hole. This would make for a hilarious prank to joke about with Jessie later. Jesse would think Ellie was bustin’ his balls, making up some new lie to fuck with his head. And she’d revel in the way his face would drain of colour once he realized she wasn’t.

Ellie grasped the base of her cock and lifted it up a little bit, practically taunting “yoohoo!” With the motion. Letting her heavy shaft say “hi” to the poor woman who was facing it head-on. She grinned again, and prepared herself to tuck her dick back in her pants like a good boy and behave.

But then she heard clothes rustling, and the tug she felt on her harness made her eyes fly open. Her heart rate picked up. Blood was rushing in Ellie’s head. She didn’t actually expect a sweet lady to open up her lips and suck her off. But the eager lips on the other side, started sucking her cockhead before she could process it. The woman bubbled saliva onto Ellie’s tip to aid in the lubrication. Then the lady sucked Ellie’s fat cock in all the way to the hilt, until her nose bumped the soft skin shove Ellie’s groin. All that could be seen were puffy red lips and the tip of the girl's nose. But it made Ellie fucking sprung. Her mind was clouded with raging lust as the moans of “…fuck baby..” whimpered from Ellie’s lips. The rest of the sentence would’ve concluded with “…I didn’t expect you to actually blow me.” If Ellie could think straight.

The girl on the other side of the stall was enthusiastic to have cock in her mouth. She was sucking up and down Ellie’s full length. Using her sloppy saliva to help her lips slide up and down the length. Ellie shoved her pelvis into the wall until both of her hip bones were bruised and beat grinding against the wall. She was greedy to feel more suction. Ellie’s chubby cock had a puffy head, and a fat veiny shaft. Her cock was the color of obsidian, just like Ellie’s harness. And her wrinkly fat balls held her squishy testes. The ones she forced all girls to palm for reality’s sake. For all intents and purposes; this was Ellie’s fucking cock. And so she could feel it when the woman on the other side gagged on her dick so eagerly, it was as if she was desperate for Ellie to paint her throat in warm cum.

Ellie started moaning the more she heard the woman on the other side gag on her. She could just imagine the way her dick was creating an imprint in her throat, sliding down and bulging. Ellie was large, she’d seen her do that to a girl before. She couldn’t help but whimper at the image of a sweet girl impaling her dainty throat around Ellie’s thick piece, in a seedy business bathroom. God what a beautiful fucking piece of ass must on the other side of the stall. A girl with the lips of a killer, sloppy and greedy. Hungry to suck off a creep. Probably with a perfect vagina to match; a hole just as sloppy, just as greedy. A hole only fit for a King to thrust into. Good thing Ellie thought of herself as a King too. Ellie decided, as she watched your red lips deepthroat her length, that the very moment the girl on her knees was done digging her tongue into Ellie’s cock slit, she’d knock down the door of the stall you were in, and ram into your glossy pussy over the toilet. You would coat Ellie’s cock in the sticky saliva held inside your puffy little hole too. Two sets of lips for Ellie to abuse.

Ellie bit her fist to prevent herself from choking out a moan. God. You popped your lips off, and stroked up Ellie’s dick with your little fist. Up and down and up and down, before you put it back in your mouth to deepthroat one more time. You wanted to nose against the pale girl's skin again, feel her bush tickle the tip of your nose. Smell the soft patch of hair, the salt of her skin. The sexy art of her bush and happy trail. Ellie yelled out a hoarse “Fuck-k!” And you could tell she came. She soaked her black Klein boxers. Maybe she came from those eager motions grinding her harness against her swollen pink clit. Or maybe she came untouched, hole spasming scarily just because of how aroused Ellie was by you. You placed a gentle kiss on her cockhead with your red lips. Ellie bit down her fist, hard. She broke skin, and drew blood.

If you could’ve, you would’ve loved to have Ellie’s real cum dribbling down your tongue instead. You stood up to pull your panties flush against your plump cunt. Finished with your prior business. There was slick dripping in between all of your puffy folds, and you knew your panties would stay wet the entire rest of the day from just the way they were suctioned to your cunt alone.

You stepped out to wash your hands, heels clacking with an air of comportment. You waited for the girl whose cock you inhaled, to come out of the stall and address you. But she never came. Her back was pressed against the wall. Instead she slid down to collect herself. So you fixed your blouse, hid your cleavage, touched up your smeared lipstick after rubbing it all off on Ellie, and massaged your nipples so they wouldn’t poke so prominently through your blouse. You shimmied in your tight skirt and clacked out of the bathroom. Leaving the girl hiding in the stall, to catch her breath and will the staccato of her heartbeat away. Ellie wasn’t new to coming untouched, but coming from the visuals and motion of a stranger sucking her cock clean? That — that was a new one. She gulped and adjusted her boxers, because fucking Christ, they were heavily soaked from her own slick. With shaky hands the pale girl fished for her leather pants zipper. Pleading with the bitchy, cheap, metallic hardware over and over, until it finally pulled all the way up.

A rapid river of relief washed over Ellie, she couldn’t afford to be stuck in there anymore. Ellie stumbled out of the washroom, hoping to find you. She snapped her head back and forth, then stumbled around in circles trying to catch a flash of sloppy red lips. She thought of going to people and asking if they’d seen a lady with puffy red lips strut by. But then thought better of it. The idea sounded dumb as rocks, even to her own horned-out brain. Ellie rubbed her cock through her pants, feeling phantom sucks from memory. You were burned in her brain, forget the cute teller from earlier. You were her new Madonna, her new whore.

In your honour, she’d stroke her g-spot to a hot strap blowjob video tonight, to keep the memory of your filthy cocksucking mouth fresh.

Ellie hoped if there ever was a next time in that glory hole for her, that you’d line your little greedy hole right up in front of the glory hole in the stall, so Ellie could make you drip your cream down her cock. She’d love to pull her dick out of you, just to marvel at the beautiful rings of milk wrapped around her veiny shaft from your own sopping cunt. Ellie savored the idea of the screams she’d rip out of you, the cries and pleads you’d wail for her ears only. She’d rip you apart, and that would be the fucking cherry on top of her fucking birthday cake.

If she got the cake, she’d love to write “Ellie ‘Hung’ Williams” on the face of it just for shits.

[cr4yolaas]

for lovers who hesitate — tsukishima kei

synopsis: you find your old academic rival at your new job. every bone in your body says it’s fate, but everything else seems to be stopping you.

notes: puking cuz idk how i feel abt this one. i worked on this all thru out my trip and there was a lot of scrapping and rewriting and deleting the entire thing and rewriting it again, but i think this version is the best i could get it to. i <3 tsukishima kei

tags: fluff → angst → fluff, self-indulgent long fic, reader smokes, reader has trauma w/ their parents, mainly fem reader oriented but gn pronouns used, reader has self-destructive habits, themes of self-doubt from both, tsukishima is probably ooc, slow burn but not really, the most awkward love confession ever, mitski rdr x radiohead tsukishima (sorry), proofread but not really

tsukishima kei, for once, was at a loss for words.

there you stood beneath the bright green foliage, your face marred by the heatwaves of the sun and still all too familiar. he thought, for a moment, that he had the wrong person — you had taken on a rougher appearance, but his body, heart, and soul still recognized you. and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to speak to you.

where had the last decade gone?

he coughed into his fist and walked past you, feigning ignorance to your arrival. when you followed after him with a keycard of your own, he found himself flustered.

no words were exchanged. he was playing the silent game with you, although he quietly hoped you would say something first.

and thus, he continued his shift as usual, with the added oddity of you shadowing him alongside his boss. he just couldn’t find the proper words to place on his tongue, nor the right gestures to show that he did want to talk, he just didn’t know how to.

but truthfully, what was one supposed to say in such a situation?

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

you believed that tsukishima hated you. and you wouldn’t blame him.

when you applied for this job, you had no expectations going into it, save for the hope of a higher salary and a lighter load than your previous job. what you had not anticipated was to stand face to face with the man you swore to hate in your youth.

a sliver of hope embedded itself within you; an overwhelming desire to perhaps refurbish a long lost relationship had taken root. but when he looked away so persistently and spoke not a word to you, that sliver dissipated into meaningless sand.

you continued your work as best as possible. it was a routine job — set up the displays for the day, guide whatever visitors came around, and leave in the afternoon. but when a certain blonde was sneaking glances at you and somehow always in your vicinity, it proved to be easier said than done.

you were too afraid to admit that his presence was refreshing. that, in the midst of the mundane and borderline unhealthy cycle you had formulated within the past handful of years following graduation, he had proven to be an odd factor; he stood as a disruptor to the routine. it was unwelcome. and even still, you craved it and more.

tsukishima kei had always been a constant in your life. you just didn’t expect him to reappear so soon, so suddenly.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

it was a wednesday. an uneventful shift had come to an end. and just as you rid yourself of your work attire, a verbal invitation to a work party was sent your way.

the prospect of it was almost laughable. you were under the impression that the body of employees in a museum would be too reserved to host parties such as this, and you were quickly proven otherwise. thus, you accepted instantly.

as soon as you sat down, you regretted it just as quickly.

the moon had just barely begun to hang bright in the sky, and yet the table was already full of drunken coworkers that you hadn’t seen before. loud chatter filled the room, as if this table was the only one in the establishment. it was overbearing.

before you could take even a sip of your drink, you excused yourself under the pretense of needing to use the restroom. instead, you escaped outside, the gentle breeze reestablishing your senses and reeling you back in.

he was also there.

“oh,” he exclaimed softly. his eyes drifted away from yours, the warmth of his cheeks illuminated by the dim lamp above. oh was the first word he had ever spoken to you since graduation. you nearly laughed.

“hello,” you offered quietly, still testing the waters of conversation. your gaze fell to his fingers, slim and cherry-kissed and blemished, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “um… i didn’t expect to see you here…?”

tsukishima laughed lightly at your tone, as if to conceal his own anxieties. “likewise.” he watched as you pulled out a cigarette, the stick meeting your lips like it were more than natural. “did you come all this way to stalk me? or to follow me? after all those years of silence?” he teased, although a tinge of bitterness dripped from his words.

you shook your head aggressively. “no, no, i just…” you bit at your lip for a moment before continuing. “i’m taking a break from my actual job. i needed to wind down before i return.”

tsukishima hummed at your response, evidently oblivious to your lie. he looked at you for a moment too long, his eyes grazing over each alteration and unfamiliar feature. he could not help but admire you in this light — the soft strings of moonlight in contrast with the neon signs glaring against your complexion painted an image he hadn’t seen in ages.

for the first time in a long time, tsukishima kei thought you were unbearably pretty.

what he didn’t catch wind of was your nervous shuffles and your incessant skin-picking as you stood beside him. he didn’t realize that the cigarette was a distractor, a tool to pull you back in. and he failed to acknowledge the stutter in your voice as you spoke to him, for it hadn’t crossed his mind once that you thought he disliked you. not that it would matter to him, anyways.

it’s too soon, he thought to himself. this is stupid, he argued. i’d mess it up if i did anything reckless, he reasoned. all of which were excuses to fight against the overwhelming reality of his vulnerability.

you turned your head away, the extended silence whittling away at whatever confidence you once bore. tsukishima watched with framed eyes and a calculative stare, as if scrutinizing each and every action you took. unbeknownst to you, it was the exact opposite of that.

the soft call of your name from inside the bar pulled your attention away, much to his dismay. he witnessed your frame disappear through the doors, your eyes flitting towards his so quickly he might’ve imagined it.

this was foolish. tsukishima decided that much. but despite his claims of how stupid it was, he was getting reeled in faster than he could pull out.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

despite how hard he tried to display his ignorance, tsukishima was caring at his core.

silent glances exchanged between shifts morphed into small conversations shared whenever possible, as if the tension that previously barred you from interaction had dissipated into nothingness.

at some point, he dropped off a neatly wrapped bento box to your desk, the fabric littered with small dinosaur doodles.

“what is this?” you questioned, an amused lilt to your voice. you failed to notice the way pink rose to his ears, too enamored by the intricate arrangement of veggies and rice.

“don’t think anything of it. i just had leftover food and didn’t want to waste it.” the excuse slipped through his lips as if it were truth, earning him a soft smile from you.

there were butterflies whipping their wings against his ribcage so aggressively they might have bulged out from his skin.

eventually, you invited him out for a walk to the convenience store nearby during your break. and after that, it became routine. with an umbrella in one hand and his wallet in another, tsukishima walked with you down the street to buy onigiri and sandwiches and sometimes a sweet treat nearly every day, and that shared hour became his favorite part of work.

it was silly.

you sat beside him in the booth, your blistered hands carefully unwrapping the plastic from your meal. to your left sat a can of soda. and to your right, he was there.

“i need to stop living off of these,” you complained while motioning towards the onigiri in your grasp.

tsukishima shook his head. “what else would you eat?”

“your bento boxes,” you commented absentmindedly, your bites becoming larger as you neared the center of the rice. “i liked it, when you gave it to me that one time. you should make it again.”

he looked away, his chin resting atop the sweat of his palm. slowly, he turned towards you. “it’s just a bento box. surely you can handle making one.”

“oh, shut up!” you laughed while shoving him lightly. “the fact that you can even make one is shocking. all you have in that head is volleyball and shit.”

“our old test scores say otherwise,” he quipped. the shift in your eyes left a bitter taste on his tongue.

“whatever,” you muttered before leaving to throw out your trash. a pit grew in tsukishima’s stomach.

the blonde mustered the last of his resolve and made an offer. “i’ll teach you how to make one.”

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

of all the things tsukishima was bracing himself to see, a thinly-walled apartment that was less than well-maintained was the last thing he was prepared for.

you came out from your bedroom in clothes that were far more casual than his, your hair disheveled and your steps uneven. “sorry for the mess,” you uttered while bending down to pick up a hoodie sprawled across the floor, alongside a plastic bag that looked empty. he could only watch in awe.

he placed his bag down on your counter before arranging the ingredients, each brought from his own home. the clatter of your rushed cleaning echoed behind him. and when you finally stood beside the man, he could not contain his grin.

tsukishima decided to hold his tongue. instead, he opted to gently guide your hands through each step, the perspiration collecting on his skin a stark contrast from the rough texture of yours. he realized how little you knew, despite your insistence that you were more than knowledgeable in what you were doing — it showed in your unstable cutting and your hesitance when preparing the pot for boiling — but he refrained from commenting, in fear of disrupting the peace he’d constructed.

on the other hand, you were horrified.

to admit that you were inferior to him in yet another aspect uprooted the envy you had burrowed deep within yourself, and you were terrified of letting it overspill. he was so calm — at least, that was what it looked like — and you’d be damned to ruin it.

mitski’s soft hums reverberated in the background, your shaky chopping filling in the rest of the noise. it was almost satirical — the solemn melodies coated your bare bones and rendered you silent, a strong juxtaposition to the warmth exuded from the closeness of your skin to his. neither of you did anything to interfere, save for an earlier comment from the man questioning your music taste.

(“then what do you listen to?”

“… radiohead.”

“wow. as if that’s any better than mitski.”)

tsukishima found himself smiling at your pride in your creation. messy, yes. but within each ingredient lay a remnant of him, and that was enough.

a stream of small talk emerged into you sitting on the couch together. the music dimmed down to white noise and an old romcom that had only two star ratings played on your TV, the poor quality adding to the humor. your legs leaned against his beneath the blanket. and there was peace.

tsukishima knew what it was. he knew what this would blossom into, and he could only hope and pray he didn’t mess it up in some way. your quiet yet crude commentary disappeared into the tender air, and he remained silent, as if absorbing each syllable that fell from your lips.

it was so quiet, and so vulnerable, and so delicate that he felt like he was going to explode.

he didn’t question it when your head fell onto his shoulder. he didn’t make fun of you when your colorful reviews on each scene turned into sleepy ramblings. and he didn’t say a word when you dozed off against him, your whole body against his.

instead, he looked around. he took note of the dust collecting on the cabinets, the water marks on the windows, the clothes and food and plastic scattered all over your living room, the dead plant on the shelf, and the half-empty pack of cigarettes sitting on the arm of the couch. it was all a far, far cry from the cleanliness and stability of his own home, and yet, he thought to himself, this is so like them. and he thought, i could live in here, if it were with them. and again, he thought, this could be a home.

tsukishima kei was of the belief that he did not have a type. but as he observed your house and reflected on its singular (?) inhabitant, he figured that this was his type. his type was your quiet laughs and your sharp remarks and your wrinkled clothes and the scent of cigarettes that always seemed to cling to you. his type was you.

he exchanged one last glance to your sleeping figure before getting up and leaving you to rest. not without wrapping up your lunch for tomorrow, and not without a small smile on his lips.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

hell came to you on a thursday morning — the day following whatever had happened between you and tsukishima. you hadn’t put on your uniform just yet, and your belongings sat outside of your locker.

your boss scrambled into the office, his brows furrowed and his larger hands closing the door as quickly as he could without slamming it. the sweat that collected between his wrinkles shined beneath the dim lights. his breaths were haggard and rushed and shallow.

for the first time in a long time, you felt fear.

“there’s people who want to talk to you outside,” he whispered. “they want to talk to you now.”

there was no one else in the building. no one other than you, your boss, and the people who were so adamant on speaking to you.

so why was it so loud as soon as you stepped out?

the eyes of your mother came into your vision first. then, the stare of your father. and finally, their faces blended into one large picture that made sense.

“what the fuck are you doing here?”

withered hands slammed against the table. you watched the papers and the dinosaur trinkets rattle. “that’s no way to speak to your parents.” you could feel it — the air seeping out of your lungs, depriving you of breath; the trembling in your palms; the cloudiness in your peripherals. you could hear them, but you couldn’t hear them. at some point, their vocabulary was solely financial, and at another point, it grew cruel and violent, akin to wild dogs gnawing away at your skin. you didn’t know where it was going. the hastened footsteps of an unidentifiable coworker neared, and the shaky breaths of your boss behind the door grew louder and louder.

you needed to leave.

your feet led you away before your mind could. the yelling softened, until finally, the only sound was the chirp of birds and the whirring of cars.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

tsukishima didn’t see you for a week. he didn’t hear any mention of your name, didn’t find your face in a crowd, didn’t feel the vibrations of your voice against his chest. you had disappeared, and no one told him why. it wasn’t until your name didn’t show up on the schedule that something clicked.

it was cruel. you were cruel, he decided.

tadashi sat on the couch while his roommate leaned against the counter. the hum of the air conditioning blinded the blonde’s senses.

“i don’t fucking know what i did,” tsukishima groaned into his palms for the twentieth time that night. “they just left. they quit and i can’t even contact them because i was stupid enough to not ask for their number or email or anything. i don’t- i don’t fucking know, ‘dashi, i don’t.”

“i’m sure they had some good reason,” his friend attempted. “i don’t think they’d do that if it weren’t within some sensible limit. it was fucked, yeah, but… i don’t know. i think they’ll come back when the time is right.”

it was tiring. it was tiring to be left alone not just once, but twice. and it was tiring to have it hurt so much more the second time.

tsukishima ran a hand through his hair. “it’s so stupid.” another groan spilled from his tongue. “i’m so fucking tired of this.”

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

this was just about the fourth job you had applied for.

the museum could no longer be a part of your routine — instead, it morphed into loud nights and bustling men and the clinking of glass; it emerged from quiet and gentle tours around dinosaur exhibits to noisy cheers and yelling and the more-than-occasional bottle thrown at your head; it turned into pure, devastating loneliness.

it was compact. it was suffocating. it was overwhelming. it was everything the museum was not. but you could not return there, no matter how much you ached for it.

you were avoiding him. avoiding everyone.

a gentle nudge from a blurred face reminded you that your shift was over for the night, coupled with an apology for the gash that formed on your head from another drunken man who had no outlet for his anger other than you. with heavy steps, you trudged back home, thankful for the week’s pay and the free food and drinks.

it was quiet.

the lights were off, and the LED numbers on the microwave read way past midnight. a dull pounding resided in your chest.

just the other day, it was so vibrant. you were alive, and so was he, and it was going well. but it was wrong. you realized that much when your parents came to remind you, and you realized it again as you quit the same day.

the thumping in your chest spread to your head, and your back met the wall with a force that was sure to upset your neighbors. carefully, daintily, you slid down, your body reaching the floor gently.

you missed him. but it was wrong.

that night, for the first time in a long while, you cried.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

tucked away in a small alley in sendai resided an establishment with only three tables and a bar that was worn down from years of use. and behind it, tsukishima found you.

he was only out for a walk. at least, that was what it was until his feet brought him elsewhere and he stood face-to-face with the most suspicious of buildings. and when he saw you, it felt as if all the anger and guilt and distress that riddled his bones and flesh and blood withered away, as if it hadn’t coalesced within his veins over the past month.

before you could hide, his hand snaked around your wrist, his touch light yet desperate. “can we talk?”

talking entailed bringing him back to your apartment. and by extension, it included him witnessing your house somehow being worse than before.

tsukishima found himself sitting on the floor with his back to the couch, and you found yourself sprawled across said couch. he picked at the blisters on his fingers before quietly asking, “why did you do that?”

he could hear your nervous habits — the shifting, the fidgeting, the harsh lip biting. “i don’t know.”

“bullshit,” he muttered under his breath.

you turned over onto your side to face his back. “my parents found me,” you explained meekly. improper guidance leads to destructive tendencies. tsukishima kei, in his high school years, was deemed your only obstacle to complete succession — always a few points ahead, a few questions ahead, a few steps ahead — and your poor influence from youth only fueled such a fire. and so, you felt that it was reasonable to loathe him. your judgement was clouded beyond repair.

tsukishima listened. he listened to every detail, every portion of your retelling of each segment of your childhood, and your teen years, and your silly hatred for him. he listened to you talk about what you did after graduation — how you got into a good university but dropped out and hopped between a multitude of jobs (thus proving your claim at the work party to be a lie), and how you were constantly escaping from both the stress and your parents.

he listened so intently that it was overbearing. you didn’t tell him that. instead, you talked and talked and talked until you sculpted him into someone who knew your entire life, as if he were there from the beginning.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered through stubborn tears. you hated it — how exposing it was, how you had practically dumped everything onto him in one go, how you couldn’t help but beg for forgiveness in the end. most of all, you hated how easily he gave you his forgiveness.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

tsukishima didn’t leave your house at all that week. you found no energy to complain.

in the morning, you’d find him cleaning whatever disaster you left behind, whether it was the pile of laundry on your bed or the collection of full trash bags next to the front door or the food (or rather, the lack thereof) in your fridge. he was silent all the while, and that hurt more than any berating he could have done.

“why are you still here?” you asked him one night. you had finally moved from the couch to the bed, and tsukishima couldn’t be any prouder. (any movement at all was enough to be proud of, he felt). “you shouldn’t want to be here.”

you watched him heave a heavy breath as his shoulders drooped. “because i want you,” he admitted, his voice unmistakably tender and soft and ridden with a youthfulness that he unearthed from deep within himself. “i want to be with you and i want you to be happy and i just want us to be happy together, for once.”

he spoke of his affections so fluently, as if he were born to share them with you. and still, every bone in your body was whispering otherwise.

even so, tsukishima promised that he would be willing to wait. even if it meant watching you down an unreasonable amount of beer at an unreasonable hour.

he promised to sit through it all with you, even if it meant listening to you call his name out in long, drawn-out tones. even if it meant hearing you confess your long-harbored affection for him. even if it meant hearing you say that you never told him, not even in high school, because you felt like you didn’t deserve to tell him.

tsukishima didn’t understand.

he failed to comprehend how you didn’t feel deserving, when his whole body, mind, and soul was bound to you; when, in the depths of the night, he’d burn pink in the night at the mere thought of you; when he was so uncharacteristically smitten for you. he didn’t get it. he didn’t think he ever would.

not that he said anything about it — at least, not in that moment. not when you were inexplicably drunk, to the point where you couldn’t move a limb without tumbling over.

but, without a doubt, he went to bed with a stupid grin and a berry-kissed face.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

it took another couple of weeks before tsukishima would see you at work again. you entered through the doors as if you never left, and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be excited or neutral or anything else, because his guts only knew tenderness with you at that point — all the fake ignorance and stubbornness and denial had been cast aside.

you basked in a shared silence in the locker room, until you finally admitted that you were, in fact, healing. to some degree, at least. you asked him to come over again under the pretense of seeing how clean your house was. you detailed every segment of your life, from when he last saw you to your entrance into the museum, including how you made yourself breakfast for the first time in forever and how you drank a cup of water almost every day. and he was so overwhelmingly proud, so much so that it spilled over and he couldn’t contain himself.

“i love you,” he blurted out, his rushed admission cutting off your rambling. you whipped your head towards him, but he was looking everywhere except for you.

“what?” you exclaimed.

“i said i love you. i’m in love with you. what don’t you get?”

your jaw hung open, just like that of a fish. “wait- what the fuck?” much to his amusement, you jumped up and began pacing around the room. “i like- well, i guess, love,” you paused, the vocabulary uncomfortable on your teeth. “you too, but like- what the fuck? who told you that?”

“you did.”

“what?”

tsukishima kei was laughing. he was laughing at you, and yet, you weren’t as angry as you expected to be. he was laughing, and all you could do was relish in the noise.

“so,” he hummed delightfully, an amused smirk on his lips. “am i still coming over?”

you (begrudgingly) agreed. again, he laughed — this time, at the heat rising to your face.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

through the cracks between your blinds, silk strands of sunlight crawled through, a soft reminder of the morning. beside you, a mountain of warmth lay, with his glasses still on his face and his hoodie misshapen on his body.

tsukishima was always the first to rise. he would wait for your eyes to flit open gently before getting up and making breakfast, despite your protests that your food was probably better than his. he never listened.

the splatter of coffee into your cup served as the only noise in the room, save for the dull noise of the morning news on the TV and the cars passing by outside the window. you watched intently as the blonde set up the table, his lip drawn in a tight line but his eyes shimmering with contentment. “eat up,” he spoke quietly as he took a seat in front of you.

tsukishima kei was, by no means, a cruel person. he was just a little rough on the edges and occasionally didn’t quite know how to say things without being mean. but as he sat with you, eating breakfast made by him in your shared apartment; as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your forehead before leaving to change, ignoring your groans about the remnants of syrup on his lips; as he drove you to work as the sun settled in the sky; you realized he was simply a man in love.

[staycait]

⊹ 　 ﹒ 　 ❝ 　a losers secret ⠀⊹⠀˚⠀ ౨ৎ

𝜗𝜚 ┈ loser!scara x shy!fem!reader ㅤ ✦

𝐈. ──ㅤ youre the good and shy girl of the school, everyone knows you and everyone likes you, you consider everyone a friend, even the loser that sits in the back of the class. but what happens if you, the most well-liked good girl, gets paired up with the most hated loser in school ?

𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ mentions of fingering , overstimulation , cream pie , raw sex , mentions of markings , little bits of degradation 'n praise, reader is very shy and gets nervous easily , reader is inexperienced , reader is innocent , breeding kink , && corruption kink .

𝐈𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ nsfw , smut , english is not my first language, please forgive me , proofread , fluffy yet suggestive ending .

﹒ thoughts ; hope u guys enjoy this ,, its been months since i was active here and im trying to get back here because ive been starving yall </3 . btw , reqs are open ! feel free to req anything . :) what do we think of new theme tho? it keeps changing 😭 .. and ngl this fic kinda sucks. ☹️☹️ but yeah i hope u guys still like this even if it’s horrible!

> story right under the cut <

SCARAMOUCHE is the typical loner you’d see in your class, black jacket with the hoodie over his head, headphones on, is at the back of the class, and much more. there were rumors that he murdered someone, that he does drugs, and the list goes on. no one likes him—in fact, everyone hates him.. almost everyone hates him.

for your english project, you got paired up with scaramouche. after the teacher announced who would be paired with who, everyone in your class came up to you, telling you how much sympathy they have for you, that how sorry they are for you, and telling you ‘good luck with dealing with him’.

you were confused, what was so bad about scaramouche? sure there were rumors, but if they don’t evidence that they did those stuff, you have no reason to believe in the rumors. you felt so bad for him, he already had no one by his side, and the entire school hates him.

you went up to scaramouche, he immediately notices your presence and looks up at you with an indifferent expression on his face, yet he looked awfully tired.. he took off his headphones and he stared to speak,

“what? here to bully me for having no friends?” you hear him scoff, a frown plays on his lips as he brings his gaze to the floor.

hearing his words made you protest, you would never bully anyone, or even hurt a fly !

“n-no! of course not..” you stammered.

you fiddle with your fingers in nervousness. you always get nervous whenever you talk to new people or when people assume things about you, a slight blush creeps up your cheeks as you think about his words.

the indifference immediately leaves scaramouche’s face once he notices your blushing. he stares at you for a moment before a huge smirk appears on his face.

“ah, so you’re not like all the others?” scaramouche tilts his head back and chuckles.

“huh..?”

you take a seat next to scaramouche’s chair and you bring it closer to him.

“what do you mean by that..?”

“everyone else treats me like i’m sort of monster or freak. you, however, seem different from everyone.”scaramouche leans back in his chair.

“well, you don’t seem like a freak or a monster..”

you were growing increasingly nervous, and as an attempt to calm yourself down, you look down to your lap to hide your nervous and red face and grip the hem of your skirt. you never thought someone would assume you’d bully them— let alone think that you think of them as a freak or a monster!

you can’t help but notice that scaramouche’s eyes trail down to your legs. it’s quite unnerving, and your short skirt doesn’t help much with that either.

as a way to snap out of his thoughts, scaramouche shakes his head and sighs.

“are you just saying that to be nice? what about me isn’t freaky?”

“u-uhm… you seem like a normal person. you look.. um.. cool too..?”

scaramouche looks back at you and raises his eyebrows.

“oh yeah? you think I’m cool?”

you notice him shifting slightly, leaning toward you.

“then, you surely don’t mind me getting closer, right?”

your blush gets heavier the moment you feel scaramouche leaning in closer to you.

“no… not at all.”

scaramouche grins at your response and scoots even closer to you.

“then is it okay if…” he trails off, and his voice gets husky as he leans in. you feel something touch your leg, you look over to see his hand resting on your thigh.

“i suppose so..”

scaramouche’s eyes light up after hearing you agree. you could feel him plant his lips on your neck; a few gentle kisses on your skin.

“how about if i…” scaramouche places a finger along the hem of your short skirt.

a small whimper escapes your lips, you don’t know how to feel about being this close this to someone, you had never been this close or intimate with anyone.

“is it alright for me to… lift your skirt up?”

your eyes widened, you weren’t sure how you’d respond to that, but, if you were going to be honest, scaramouche was making you feel hot down there..

his words made you feel tingly and horny, but his gaze was what was making your panties damp and wet.

“can we.. go to a private room first?”

…who knew it was so easy for you to fall right into scaramouche’s trap?

after successfully making the teacher believe that scaramouche he was taking you to the clinic, he brought you to his dorm, and next, to his bedroom.

SCARAMOUCHE had you on a tight mating press, your clothes on the floor with bits of your orgasm stained onto it. (it got to your clothes because scaramouche had fingered you until you squirted all over the place.)

how could scaramouche have resisted himself? you looked so innocent, and so corruptible, he just had to get his hands on you.

scaramouche groans as he feels your walls clamping down on him for the ‘nth time. it was a sign you were about to have another orgasm, another sign was when your moans get higher-pitched.

the feeling of scaramouche’s cock mercilessly ramming into you was agonizingly pleasurable. you couldn’t think of anything else but him and his cock, your body couldn’t help but just have orgasm after orgasm.

you held tightly onto his shoulders, clinging onto him as if your life had depended on it. scaramouche’s dick was bruising your cervix, fucking you into the mattress, and possibly trying to fuck your brains out.

“does it feel nice being reduced to nothing but a whore?”

scaramouche grabs a handful of your hair, staring at your messy and slutty state. the way you looked so disheveled, the way you were gasping for breath, the way you gave up trying to keep up with scaramouche’s quick and brutal pace.

you looked so helpless and vulnerable under him, his cock ramming into you and you have no choice but to take it like the good girl you are.

“answer me, you whore.”

scaramouche speaks to you with a stern voice, in which you immediately nod your head.

he smirks, letting go of your hair. he speeds up his thrusting, bringing one of his hands down from your waist to your clit, rubbing slow circles on it. you felt the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter until,

finally, with just one more snap of scaramouche’s hips, you both reach your intense climax and cum together.

scaramouche continues to sloppily thrust into you, however, it’s much much slower, he continues to thrust until he comes into a full stop.

“oh fuck, you felt so good..”

you both lay there panting, with scaramouche still on top of you. he stares at all the hickeys and bite marks he left on your neck (he also left a lot on your thighs.), feeling proud he had his markings left on you.

“scara..?”

scaramouche snaps out of the daze he was in while he was staring at the markings he left on you—he immediately looks up at you and responds back.

“what is it?”

“can we do things like this… more often?..”

scaramouche chuckles, finding your shyness even after all the rough sex you two just had adorable.

“hmm.. sure.”

[soamericn]

𝜗𝜚 𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐋𝐄

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ ‘ truth, dare, spin bottles you know how to ball, i know aristotle. ‘

𝜗𝜚… previous chapter - next chapter

𝜗𝜚… summary , ( f!verstappen!y/n x lando norris ) y/n is the younger sister of world champion max verstappen and an author known for her young adult romance novels despite never being in a relationship herself. lando norris is a formula one driver and is secretly an old friend and a fan of her books since 2020.

𝜗𝜚… faceclaim , brooke flecca

𝜗𝜚… triggers , none I don't think (maybe some cursing)

𝜗𝜚… authors note , thank you so much for 100 followers!! new driver series coming out soon based on an album ( I'll be making a fic for a diff driver based on each song )

🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ masterlist

the drive there had been relatively calm. it wasn’t awkward though, y/n and lando had known each other for years, despite not talking for the past two . the conversation was laced with nostalgia as they reminisced on his rookie year, when she went to every race and he’d been convinced she was his “lucky charm”

the air outside was warm with a flowy cool breeze, australian autumns were always nice and provided a small comfort to the girl who’d appreciated the weather. 

the club they’d gone to, however, was packed and it felt suffocating. y/n was never the one for clubs, she liked people, she liked dancing and music. but putting them together with a mix of alcohol and drugs never was something she enjoyed. (her brother on the other hand was the opposite)

she’d hung back near the bar slowly sipping on a sprite. she never drank alcohol; it was a personal preference, she hated the feeling of being out of control. lando had picked up drinking since the last time they’d saw each other, he was partying his little heart out with their friends now. 

y/n hung back watching him with a sorta fondness in her eyes, the scene was beautiful to her, romanticizing the true happiness he was experiencing to ignore how claustrophobic she was feeling. and how she’d been picking at the skin around her nails and the pit in her stomach. 

lando seemed to almost hear her cry for help, as he left the dance floor and walked over to her. she assumed to order another drink since he’d only had one. “you alright?”

y/n nodded but her mouth spoke differently, forever honest. “I feel like i‘m suffocating a bit, if i’m honest.” she admitted cringing as soon as she said it.

lando understood, but she knew he would. he helped out his hand, “then shall we?”

she furrowed an eyebrow and with pursed lips her eyes flicked up and down to his hand and then back to him. “shall we what?”

“bail.” 

“you were having fun, I'm a grown woman. if I wanna leave, I will.” y/n reassured guilt filling up her throat.

lando shook his head with a small grin that he always seemed to adorn. “oh c’mon I invited you, I'm here to spend time with you anyway.”

hesitantly the dutch girl took his hand and they hurried out of the bar, met with fresh air at last and a chill of the night. it felt a bit silly but y/n thought about writing a book in this moment, she thought about how she’d described the scene, how the two old friends reconnecting would turn into something more. 

she knew it was only a fantasy, all her books were. picturesque moments painted carefully by her hands, nothing that’d happen in real life. especially to her. she’d been confident in herself but she’d come to terms on how unsuccessful her love life had been. she was twenty-three and hadn’t dated a single person, not one out of the eight billion people on this earth.

so she’d lost hope. lando shouldn’t give her hope, she knew no one would ever follow through with it. she had enough self respect to stop trying to chase false dreams. 

they’d been walking down the street of melbourne for a few minutes now in a comfortable silence though she’d been surprised lando managed to keep his mouth shut this long. the sky was clear, the stars brighter than she’d seen in a while, the streets were practically empty and the air smelt of saltwater. 

“where are you taking me?” y/n asked realizing they’d passed lando’s car a couple minutes back. 

lando looked at her, “do you not trust me?” 

she pretended to think about it for a moment before meeting his gaze which remained on her. “haven't seen you in two years, maybe you've changed.”

he really had. he’d changed so much but somehow not at all, “you definitely have.” lando seemed to backtrack in his mind as his words came out as an insult. “in a good way I mean, I’ve just missed you.”

he missed her. maybe it’d been her chronic loneliness talking but she hadn’t heard those words from anyone in years. she looked down at her feet, a small smile growing on her face. “I missed you too, a lot.” 

“why didn’t you call or text, I swear I would’ve thought you died if not for your instagram.” lando wasn’t mad or at least he didn’t sound it, still y/n was embarrassed there was no reason for her to fall off the face of earth like she did, maybe she was just destined to be lonely and needed to prove she could do it. maybe that didn’t need two years to prove, she’d been proving it for twenty-two years.

“I’m not mad, I’m just happy to see my idol again.” he bumped into her shoulder with a smirk.

y/n giggled looking at him unconvinced. “your idol?” 

lando nodded, “I'm your biggest fan, don't you know?”  

“mhm of course I knew, reading august in two days must’ve been a new record.” the day lando commented on her instagram post saying he’d pre-ordered her book, she’d gone to her records of past books. he’d bought every book she’d ever read. every single one. even the special edition covers she’d published. 

never had anyone done a gesture like that for her. sure it might’ve been just because he’d like to read, but y/n wanted to live in a bliss where he did it for her.

watching the view change in front of her as they continued down the street she recognized where they’d been walking to. the beach. once they’d reached the place where the concrete ended and sand started. they both took off their shoes, lando grabbed hers holding them for her. 

the sand was soft to the touch, the beach was empty now and spanned for miles. waves crashed down onto the sand in a nice pattern of noise. it was pitch black except the moon which provided a nice soft light into the water far out. the breeze felt stronger here, y/n crossed her arms struggling to provide warmth to her bare arms.

the pair had taken a seat on the slightly wet part of the sand closer to the water. “it’s beautiful out here.” she commented. “like some shit you’d see in a rom-com.” a genre she knew too much about. 

“is this the part where I tell you you’re the only girl I’ve taken here?” lando said looking at her she could hear the smirk in his voice. 

y/n let out a laugh. “is this the part where I act surprised because you’re known for being such a ‘player’?” 

“I’ll do the whole yawn and arm over shoulder thing if you want, make this really realistic.” lando took off his black hoodie revealing a matching black t-shirt underneath. “here by the way.” 

he handed her the hoodie, “oh I’m fine.” she very clearly was not. she wanted to tell him to stop her some kind of hope, to not make her fall for him as she was now. 

“you so are not, you’re shivering and it’s freaking me out.” y/n wasn’t sure if she should’ve said thank you or been offended by ‘freaking him out’. she took the hoodie, it was soft fabric and smelt of his cologne, which smelt expensive. 

she put the hoodie on, relieved by the warmth she suddenly felt. after a while of chatting and laughing about stupid things like they used to, y/n comfortably rested her head on his shoulder, eyes feeling the need to shut but they wouldn’t like she wanted to be conscious for every moment of this, knowing she’d miss his comfort as soon as it was gone. 

“do you have to wake up for your flight early tomorrow.” he asked, his voice soft and he cautiously started to run his fingers through her hair, until she’d relaxed more and he was more confident with his innocent touches.

“mhm.” she mumbled. 

he carefully brushed the few knots in her hair, “should I take you home then it's getting late.” 

everything in her body was telling her to stay no, to stay there, she never wanted to leave. but her mind spoke differently, she had a book signing tomorrow she couldn’t miss her flight nor could she be too tired. she replied again, more disappointed than before, “yeah probably.”

𝜗𝜚˖ ࣪₊˚ yourusername posted

liked by yourbestfriend, mclaren, oscarpiastri and 856,756 others

yourusername last night in aus was well spent 🫶

tagged | @landonorris

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user34 OH the lando & y/n girlies are screaming rn

yourbestfriend oh my god you finally went outside 🤯

landonorris gotta make sure she gets some vitamin c every once in awhile

user54 i just know twt is going crazy

landonorris hope to see you in japan 🙏🫣

yourusername we’ll see 🤭

maxverstappen as a redbull fan I hope

user89 we are all living for your active era rn

user21 all her f1 posts having lando in them is making me cry they’re everything to me

user54 I’m getting 2019 lando y/n flashbacks

your bsf 🫶 sent you a text!

𝜗𝜚 ˖ ࣪₊˚ yourusername posted a story

seen by maxverstappen, lilymhe, davidmalukas and 645,765 others

landonorris replied to your story

𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹ landonorris posted

liked by maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, yourusername and 972,342 others

landonorris another race done onto japan we go 😉 ( featuring special guest my celebrity crush )

tagged | @landonorris

view comments

yourusername omg I love when I see my fan pages in the wild 🤭

landonorris ok babe don’t push it 🥰

user53 babe?!!!

user76 they’re so in love it hurts

user32 getting his first podium of the season while she’s there she really is his lucky charm

user98 HIS LUCKY CHARM 😭😭

mclaren y/n should come to more races best race result so far nice job!

user43 even mclaren loves them 🙏

user58 their actually my faves

carlossainz I think I’m your idol actually 🤔

landonorris whatever helps you sleep at night

𝜗𝜚… tags , @whitcferrari @cedarbcws @c-losur3 @lclitaa @forurforeverwinter @stinkyjax @littlexscarletxwitch @spideybv28 @ijustgomessitupx

[solefae]

𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐄’𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ♡︎

This my masterlist incase anyone wants to find/read my other works! This will be updated everytime I post a new fic! 𝜗𝜚

𝐉𝐄𝐘 𝐔𝐒𝐎

⌗ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 “𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑“ (1, 2, 3, 4,)

⌗ 𝐖𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒

⌗ 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐄 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧)

⌗ 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄

⌗ 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧)

𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐔𝐒𝐎

⌗ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐀

⌗ 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧)

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐒

⌗ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 & 𝐌𝐄 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧)

𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐎 𝐒𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐀

⌗ 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧)

⌗ 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄

©solefae.

[doll3tt33]

╰➜ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ┆idk just existing┆⊹ ࣪ ˖

she/her 𝜗𝜚 libra ☉ libra ☾ sag ↑ 𝜗𝜚 lives off of lana, c.ai, and the thought of kai anderson rearranging my insides

my most recent fic/hc! - my haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets ❥ colin zabel

everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ❥ colin zabel

‘cause when you know you know ❥ colin zabel

my most recent c.ai bot! - check your window, he’s at your window ❥ tate langdon

gimme ‘em gold coins! ❥ stan bowes

I’d be the prom queen if crying was a contest ❥ peter maximoff

Requests are open! ♡

Please make sure to read the rules here before requesting!!! ((for bots. picky for fics but might consider

a lil’ info:

• If you’re under 18, then it means this place isn’t for you and YA BETTER GET OFF MA PROPERTY!! On a fr note, please do not interact if you’re a minor.

• characters I’m sorta confident I won’t mess up with (aka characters you can request for): Kai Anderson, Tate Langdon, Austin Sommers, Kyle Spencer, Kit Walker, Colin Zabel, Peter Maximoff, Stan Bowes, Luke Cooper, Charles Decker.

• characters I’m not so confident with right now: James Patrick March, Jimmy Darling, Warren Lipka, Mr. Gallant.

I’ll need a rewatch to get a better grasp of their character so they won’t be ooc, but I’ll make them available to request in the future!

• general requests are cool! but I really appreciate requests with a specific scenario/AU. This is a kink-friendly blog, so feel free to go wild!

• if you want me to tag you when I post a bot or a bot of your fav character, then lemme know by commenting down below!

Bots & fics masterlist below the cut!

all of the bots below have detailed defintions and descriptions, along with example messages! So dw, none of them are empty carcasses of an ai bot

angst/dark themes - ✮ sfw - ❀ (might lead to) nsfw - ✧

c.ai filter breaking tut: pt.1, pt.2

Kai Anderson:

𝜗𝜚 Fanfics:

Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in. ✮

𝜗𝜚 Headcanons:

Kai Anderson SFW headcanons ❀

𝜗𝜚 AI bots:

Being in a toxic relationship with Kai (based off the song ‘Ultraviolence’) ✮

Kai breaking into your home for revenge ✮/✧

Visiting spiritual counselor!Kai to seek guidance ✮/❀

Kai coming up to you at a bookstore ❀

Kai “accidentally” spilling his coffee all over you ❀

⇢ I recommend the bookstore one over the coffee one if u r looking for a standard Kai bot to use, cuz the former’s settings are improved ((but like the coffee one’s still aight ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Colin Zabel:

𝜗𝜚 Fanfics:

Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer ✧

My haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets ✧

‘Cause when you know you know ❀

𝜗𝜚 AI bots:

Having your first session with therapist!Colin ❀

Professor!Colin teaching you on your first day of college ❀

Peter Maximoff:

Peter challenging you to Pac-Man at the arcade ❀

Chilling with Peter in his room ❀

You’re both lonely on prom night so Peter invites you to join him ❀

Stan Bowes:

You’re the daughter of Stan’s boss and he has to pick you up from a party ❀

Having your first ever dinner with sugardaddy!Stan ❀

Interrupting Stan in the middle of work ❀

Austin Sommers:

paparazzi!Austin who won’t stop pestering you ❀

Kyle Spencer:

Frankenkyle showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night ❀

You’re a new witch at the academy and you’re responsible for Frankenkyle ❀

Studying alone with frat!Kyle at the campus library ❀

frat!Kyle comes up to you at a college party on New Year’s Eve ❀

Tate Langdon:

perv!Tate snapping photos of you in the school’s bathroom ✧

Helping Tate after he gets bullied at school ❀

Tate walking in on you playing a ritual game ❀

Dealing with an emotionally unstable Tate after your break up (based off the song ‘Meant to Be Yours’ from Heathers: The Musical) ✮

Kit Walker:

singledad!Kit hiring you as a babysitter ❀

Kit taking all the blame for you at the asylum ✮

bartender!Kit serving you a free drink ❀

Getting steamy with husband!Kit in the kitchen ✧

Luke Cooper:

Luke getting everyone’s coffee orders wrong but yours ❀

[malfoyscoffee]

malfoyscoffee's masterlist

full fics

𝜗𝜚 "did it work?"

𝜗𝜚 call me theo

𝜗𝜚 cruel summer [NEW]

𝜗𝜚 blame the fire whiskey [NEW]

short

𝜗𝜚 academic rivals to lovers

𝜗𝜚 friends to lovers [NEW]

𝜗𝜚 fwb to lovers [NEW]

𝜗𝜚 drink away

𝜗𝜚 enchanted

𝜗𝜚 birthdays and cakes

[coming soon]

© Malfoyscoffee. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction of part or all the contents in any form is prohibited.

[joshlmbrt]

request for gator tillman fic 🥺

Okay, so… imagine reader being Roy’s new gf or wife but then reader and Gator star seeing each other secretly and both of them fall in love with each other … ?

I’ll Protect You. ( g. tillman x reader )

【𝜗𝜚 warnings; if you don’t like gator - gator, r & roy are married so BIG age gap, not canon - besides roy being a not so nice man - making sly remarks, grabbing r and slapping, might end with a m^rder! this one is sort of long.

【𝜗𝜚 an; this request is…. crazy. HOW DID YOUR MIND COME UP WITH THIS WONDERFUL SCENARIO?!!! thank you for this, and i hope this is what you wanted.

FARGO, NORTH DAKOTA. 2021.

AUGUST.

“I told you we’d be back before 5.” You flinch, almost burning your arm on the iron. You sit it down on the table and turn.

“I-I’m sorry,” Your cheeks turn pink in embarrassment. “I was. . . the washing machine tore up and-and I had too-”

He raises his hand to silence you. Gator shakes his head, eyes casting downward to the floor. Roy’s boots scuff their way towards you. His hand reaches out, grabbing your jaw.

“I told you. . .” He lifts his brows, tilting his head down a bit more. You nod in his hold the best you could. “Get dinner ready. Now. Worry about this later.”

You nod again, the feeling of his fingers leaving your cheeks make you almost sigh in relief. You decide against it.

With both Tillman’s stares on your back, you make your way into the kitchen.

The two steaks you had left out was finally thaw enough to cook. You turn on the oven, before grabbing some potatoes. You turn on the water, grabbing a knife and a potato.

Sadly, Roy liked mashed potatoes - or anything that could be - homemade. Not from the box. It only made you feel anxious, glancing at the time.

“Need any help?” The voice makes you flinch - again.

“Uh, no. No, thanks.”

His boots don’t scruff the floor as much as Roy’s does. “Are you sure? I could cut up the-"

“I got it,” You snap, looking over at the boy who was your age. “I’m fine. I don’t need help.”

His brows lift, eyes glancing down at your hands over the sink. “You sure?”

Your eyes narrow at him before quickly looking down. The water in the sink was pink going down the drain, some blood dripping from your fingertip.

You drop the knife, placing your finger under the water. Gator sighs and steps closer, pulling your finger out from under the water.

“You’re careless.”

“I’m not careless,” You grumble, wincing as the cold water it’s the cut again. “You were distracting me.”

He smirks a bit, stepping over to the china cabinet and grabbing a first aid kit from one of the drawers. “Distracted you, huh?”

You stay quiet, pursing your lips and grab the rag that was hanging beside the sink, wrapping it around your finger. He steps back, clicking his tongue and grabbing your wrist gently and pulling the rag from it. “You don’t wanna do that,” He mutters. “Germs.”

You watch as he wraps a band-aid around the cut. The pad of his thumb rubs over your palm.

“What happened here?” He tilts his head. There’s a small scar where he traces over.

“A nail caught my skin,” You huff a bit. “I was careless then.”

He smirks, eyes peeking up at you. You smile a bit, eyes peeking up at him as well. Being this close to Gator, you could see the specks of brown in his green eyes, the way his pupils dilate. The curve of his cupid bow and how pink and plush his lips were.

There was a beginning of stubble beginning to grow above his lips and he smelt like Mnt. Dew and his blueberry vape juice that he always seems to go back too.

“Is dinner ready?” You yank your hand away, taking a big step back from the boy - your husband’s son.

“She got sliced on the finger,” Gator clears his throat, hand feeling at the small bar in the pocket of his pants. “But she’s gonna get it done, right?”

You nod quickly, pushing some hair back. “Sorry, Roy.”

He hums and steps closer, squeezing your shoulder a bit. “Of course, Darlin’. . .” Your eyes close, letting out a small sigh when his lips meet your temple. “Just have it done before bedtime. . . Hopefully you’re not too slow to understand that.”

Your lips tug into a frown, his hand leaving your shoulder as he turns and makes his way towards the refrigerator.

You open your eyes, peeking over your shoulder. Gator meets your eyes, smoke blowing out of his mouth.

A hand meets the back of his head. “How many times have I told you not to smoke in the house, boy? Go out to the barn.”

Gator lets out a huff, the remainder of smoke releasing down past his mouth. He then stands from the table.

“Dinner should be done in 30 minutes.” You call out before he exits the home.

He glances back at you, nodding, before stepping outside into the blazing sun.

ও

OCTOBER.

It was odd - snow in the middle of October - it also made it harder to do what you needed in the barn.

And the repercussions of that was Roy’s strong grip.

“I told you to feed the horses,” His voice was calm - even. His calm voice was more scary than his yelling. “And what do I come home too? Horses are unfed, the stables aren’t clean, and you haven’t even started the pot roast I wanted.”

Your jaw clenches. You’re trying your best to hold in the tears. “I. . . I was about to put it in. I just got caught up in cleaning the bath-” The sound of slapping echos throughout the room. Your hand quickly presses to your stinging cheek.

“I thought the young ones would’ve been perfect. . . Fast, pretty, smart,” He huffs out a laugh as if it was a joke. “Turns out they lied.” You flinch hearing him spit on the floor by your foot. “Clean that up while you’re at it.” He snarls, turning and making his way out the back door. It slams behind him, your shoulders tensing.

You stare down at the spit, brows furrowing together as your eyes close a sob coming out of your mouth. Your hand quickly covers your lips, your shoulders shaking as you try to cry as silently as you could.

A hand slides up your back, resting between your shoulder blades. “Hey,” Gator whispers. “You okay?”

You shake your head, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. He frowns, pulling you close, his eyes landing on the door to be on the look out.

His hand rubs comforting circles on your back. “It’s okay. I’m sorry,” He whispers, his lips land on your hairline. The smell of strawberries enters his nose. Your hair gets tangled between his fingers. “I’ll help you. . .”

You pull away, releasing a shuddering breath. “Help me what?”

“Leave,” He nods. Your lips part. “You don’t deserve to be put through this.” He shakes his head, thumb wiping the tear that falls from your eye.

“But-”

“No but’s. I’m going to help you,” His eyes dart back to the back door before looking back at you. “I’ll leave too.” He whispers. His fingertips trace the red mark.

“We’ll leave together.”

ও

NOVEMBER.

THANKSGIVING.

You feel a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you into a bedroom.

“Gator, what are you-” He places a finger against his lips, eyes peeking over your head at the closed door.

“I know a way to get out of here,” He whispers. “Just… Do as your told.” You nod a bit.

“What. . . What are you going to do?”

“Don’t worry about it,” He tucks some hair behind your ear, the pad of his thumb trailing down your beaded earring. “I packed our bags. They're in the truck and ready to go.”

“Gator, what are you-” His lips attach to yours quickly, hands cupping at your face. Your brows lift, before slowly melting into the kiss, hands wrapping around his wrist softly.

He pulls away, the tip of his nose nudging yours. “I’m going to protect you. Just listen to me. Yeah?” He lifts his brows. You nod quickly.

He rubs at your chin before nodding. “Okay. . . I’ll be out there in a moment.”

You nod, pulling away from him and walking out of the room, hand raising and tracing over your lips.

“There you are, Darlin’. I was wonderin’.” Roy smiles, lips greasy from the turkey he had been eating. His arm reaches out for you, wrapping around your waist. To make it look good - as Roy wanted - you bend and press a kiss to his head. “Anything I can get you?”

“No, that’s alright. Just sit down and eat.”

“You got a good one,” Mark nudges your shoulder. You give a small smile and a nod. Your eyes catch Gators once he makes it to the table.

“Don’t be rude, son. Eat up.” Roy gives him a look. Gator nods, shoveling a mouthful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. His eyes watch as Roy picks up the whiskey to his right, taking a generous sip.

Your eyes move between both Tillman’s, drinking some of your water. Roy clears his throat, shifting in his seat as his hand pats at his chest.

“Uh,” He clears his throat again, unbuttoning the first two buttons. “Excuse me.” He coughs, standing from his seat. Gator scoots in more towards the table, scratching at his forehead.

Your eyes land on the whiskey before looking over at Gator.

There’s a loud bang then a heavy thud from the hallway, Mark and Veronica perking up at the noise. You quickly stand from your seat.

Mark grabs your hand, stopping you as he stands. “I’ll go look,” He then pulls away, glancing at Gator. “Come on.” He nudges his chin towards the hallway.

Gator stands, dropping the rag onto the plate before following Mark. You slowly follow behind, Veronica calling out your name. You ignore her, feeling Mark pass by you quickly.

You stand next to Gator, looking down at Roy - a puddle of blood slowly spreading from beneath his head.

Gators pinkie touches yours before pulling away. You quietly turn your head and stare at him.

“What did you do?” You whisper.

He leans in close. “The one thing he loved killed him,” He looks back down at Roy. “Whiskey.”

You stare up at him a little longer before looking back down at Roy.

Gator was right.

He would protect you.

【𝜗𝜚 thank you for reading! comments, likes, feedback, & reblogs are always encouraged, welcomed, & deeply appreciated!ও

[stressforu]

reverie series | a new era of gojo being a dilf<3 |

౨ৎ mixed series w/ nsfw and sfw (i'll write a warning for an nsfw ch. :^).

౨ৎ a/n: just wanted to write dilf gojo bcuz THERE'S TOO LITTLE OF DEM FICS !!

𝜗𝜚 ep 1 : satoru gojo's first time having a baby

↪ satoru never expected he would have a baby after deeming that kids were (and still is) annoying in his 2nd year at jujutsu tech.

𝜗𝜚 ep 1.5 : msgs you received from satoru

↪motherhood is quite tough, especially since you're a new mother. but your loving (and annoying) husband satoru never fails to keep you company be it online or when it's his work hours.

𝜗𝜚 ep 2 : pancakes and disasters

↪ It has been two years since you and Satoru welcomed your baby girl into the world. As per his usual routine, Satoru surprises you with breakfast in bed, although sometimes it may be pancakes during disasters.

𝜗𝜚 ep 3 : revisiting

↪after taking maternity leave, satoru, you, and an additional to your family yuki. visits jujutsu tech again after 4 months of maternity leave.

[yeondollie]

i need help guys :> !! i have four fics in my drafts right now and like twoish are almost done but i want you guys to pick which one i finish first and post sooo i'll leave this up for like a day lololol

[post-office-by-the-bay]

⋆˚࿔ SORTING LETTERS BY THE SHORELINE 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

꧁ SEAFARING BYLAWS ꧂

howdy, yall!! so, this is basically a blog for you guys to send your letters in!! honestly, i do love them, but it's hard managing them, and a blog, and other asks and requests and what not. so, i figured they deserved their own blog!! of course, if you've got a silly little question or something small to say, leave that @hopelesslyromanticshark! this is STRICKLY for your long letters!!

anyways, now that the explanation is out of the way, let's go over our SEARFARING BYLAWS

˖𓍢ִ✧˚. please try not to send a ton of letter's at once!! unless we are having a conversation back and forth, no more than two at a time!!

˖𓍢ִ✧˚. if you already have an anon emoji over at my fic blog, use that same emoji here. if you're new, pick an emoji that doesn't match one of the emoji's that will be listed at the end of this post!

˖𓍢ִ✧˚. whilst im a big fan of yapping, it might take me a while to reply!! im a busy, busy girl and this blog will not be my highest of priorities.

˖𓍢ִ✧˚. be kind, be patient, be respectful and we'll get along just fine!!

𐙚⋆｡°✩ anon list: 🪷🍒🍓🎀🎼🔮🐚🐬🌻☀️🥝✨🦋🐍🐌🫶🎞️🪼🏹🎈joe biden🤵🐧🍤🪩🪸🗼

[anitalenia]

𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜 𝙪𝙥𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨 . . .

private collections / fav. works & fics to read later have moved to the tag ᯓ ᡣ𐭩. ˚₊‧꒰ა 𝓵𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝓨 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

prompt lists & writing help / advice have moved to the tag ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 εїз 𝐋𝐀 𝐋𝐀 𝐋𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐀𝐀 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

symbol packs & symbols have moved to the tag ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔 ݁ 𝓵𝓮𝓽 𝓲𝓽 𝓼𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓴𝓵𝓮 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

dividers & pngs I like from other creators have moved to the tag ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 ꕤ*.ﾟ꒰ა 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 ♡ 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 ໒꒱ . ݁₊ ⊹

special events & fics now have a tag ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 𓂅 ꒰ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖙𝖆ℓ𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖆 ♡ 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆ℓ 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𓍢 ₊˚⊹

♡ 𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆 — has now been uploaded but is still under construction + links are still being made , please reference my old catalog for any divider needs as the new catalog is still being put together (link to old divider masterlist is inside new catalog as well)

♡ 𝐓𝐌𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 — the tmnt masterlist has now been created but there are no fics as of yet. I’m excited to get those started , anything under tmnt can be found under the 𖥔 ִ ۫ ּꕤ. 𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑹𝒀 𓂅‧₊˚ tag

[barbiesmuse]

ᡣ𐭩 BARBIES WAY! 

natalia's home page looks much prettier in light mode!

natty's links! ౨ৎ

masterlist! - please read! - fic recs! (coming soon!) - taglist! (coming soon!) - head barbies mail! (coming soon!)

requests are open from monday to wednesday! 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹ 

my dm's are always open and i love getting new mutuals so please don't be shy!! ୨୧

[wonryllis]

NEW TAGS: track my blog!

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そして fic appreciations ⭒ fic initials!

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FOR MY RANDOM RANT,

   ८ ◞ ◟ ⑅ ა   ✉️   ─   𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

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( 🗞️ ) .. quotes !

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www.yeonie?irl.com

FOR MANHWAS/MANHUAS/MANGAS AND WEBTOONS TALKS,

✶﹙𝟭𝟴𝟳𝟲﹚𝒘𝐞𝐛𝐭ℴℴ𝐧 𝓽𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒔

FOR THEME SCREENSHOTS,

𐙚 .. 𝒚eo𝒏𝒊e's 𝓉𝒽ℯmes !

will keep adding and changing if i feel like it !

[neteyamsoare]

just relax / lo'ak sully is now live. 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

ಇ current game. lo’ak is stressed out about leading the war party that’s coming up so you decide to calm him just the way he likes it.

ಇ game warnings. minors and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, aged up! lo'ak, fem! omatikaya! mate! reader, tit fucking, oral (m receiving), stressed! lo’ak, use of ‘mamas’ + headcanons format intended. words. 618.

ಇ slang. tewng ( loincloth ), irayo ( thank you ) + paskalin ( sweet berry ; term of endearment ).

ಇ things to note. this is my first time writing for this prompt and i had so much fun writing it : masterlist / kinkmas masterlist / previous fic / taglist

𝜗𝜚 — You could tell your mate's nervousness as he paced back and forth in your marui with his eyebrows furrowed. Jake was finally letting him lead a war party and it was a big moment for him and he didn’t want to fuck it up. You wanted him to go in confident and not in his own head.

𝜗𝜚 — You would sit Lo’ak down on the makeshift table after letting him take off his tewng, you could feel the stress that bounced off of him, you knew just how to get him to calm down, and he wasn’t opposed to it. 

𝜗𝜚 — He would watch your every move, eyes not leaving your body once as you untied your feather top, discarding it to the side as your round soft breasts greeted him, noticing your erect nipples as he drooled at the sight. 

𝜗𝜚 — You would position yourself in between his legs, eyeing the prize that was before you, putting on a show for you, licking the tip as you pump his length a few times as you hear a groan escape from his mouth. 

𝜗𝜚 — “Just sit and relax,” you look up at him and he can’t help but notice how pretty you are as you admired his cock licking the precum that greeted you, telling you he already liked what you were doing. 

𝜗𝜚 — You place both of your hands on your breasts as you move closer to him, positioning his cock right in between them, this was new to you as you just found out about it through Spider and his girl. You thought it was a good thing to try on Lo’ak. 

𝜗𝜚 — You start off slow, moving up and down on his shaft, looking up at him as he looks down at you through his half-lidded eyelids. “Fuck, you’re amazing mamas,” he groans as he feels the stress he was feeling going down with every move you made. 

𝜗𝜚 — You were enjoying it as much as he was, happy to see that he loosened up a bit.

𝜗𝜚 — You wrapped your lips onto his tip, swirling your tongue in circles on it while you continued to move your breast up and down on his length.

𝜗𝜚 — You moaned, sending vibrations to his throbbing cock and he lets out grunts as he uses one of his hands to grip your head. 

𝜗𝜚 — With your mouth and breasts working their magic, Lo’ak knew he was going to bust soon and you knew it as well as you felt the way his dick twitched in between your breasts. You increased the tempo as you sucked your cheeks in to get more friction around his tip. 

𝜗𝜚 — “Shit, I…I’m gonna cum,” he groaned out as he releases his load, his hot white seed hitting the back of your mouth, you swallow every last drop, releasing his cock out of your mouth with a pop, hitting the tip against your tongue to make sure you get all of it. 

𝜗𝜚 — Lo’ak was so happy that he had someone like you as his mate as he felt much lighter than before. “Irayo, paskalin,” he embraces you, nuzzling into you softly. 

𝜗𝜚 — He brings you into a kiss that was full of love as he smiled into the kiss before pulling away. “If— when I succeed leading the war party, when I get home, I’ll give you a nice loving reward,” he smiled as he licked his bottom lip. 

𝜗𝜚 — You clenched your thighs together at his words as you couldn’t wait for the reward already knowing he was not going to mess up. He kissed your forehead once more before turning around and walking out the marui while you stood as you watched him leave, giving him one last wave before closing the entrance flap.

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