#which is definitely the better of the two options

[jupitermarss]

unexpected company

shy alien!chan x human!reader warnings: blowjob, corruption kink kinda, aliens, monsterfuck(?), alternative anatomy, sub!chan listen this has no coherent lore or artistic purpose, it’s pure self indulgent filth aka shy alien channie gets a blowjob for the first time ever for the vibes think the avatar’s navi meets stitch meets bang chan. 

moving slightly off grid to finally escape the noise of the city and live out your little house in the woods dream seemed peaceful. uneventful even, because the most that would happen was a hare visiting once in a few moons. that was until a little almond shaped spacecraft crashlanded meters away from your cabin, turning life upside down because not only did it scare the daylights out of you, there was also a pilot inside the ship.

his skin was tinted blue, eye scleras fully black, which, surprisingly... only made him less intimidating, somehow. the visitor was humanoid, slightly lankier than your average male, with a smooth, almost animal-like grace, somewhat primal yet contrasting with his outstanding intelligence and skill in both language and engineering.

when you’d first locked eyes with each other, it wasn’t fear or dread that struck you. on some intuitive and body language reading level, just by one look at your newfound alien company, you figured he was probably even more distressed and frightened than you were. so your initial response was laced with confusion and compassion instead. maybe, a sparkle of curiosity and suspicion, too. 

you gave him water, tried to keep your own body language neutral and non-threatening, showing you were only trying to help and meant no harm. 

this is how it started. 

to answer the question of how it’s going, there’s definitely nuance. 

first of all, he’s now living with you because he needs time to patch up his spacecraft. with limited tech resources available here on earth, it’s taking longer than it could have. 

second of all, he started speaking. he introduced his name to you first, but it sounded like a combination of sounds your mind couldn’t even grasp to then repeat. it was long, tongue twisting and unclear, so you settled on a simpler alternative that phonetically resembled the original name — chan. 

chan picked up basic english in a matter of days and was clearly of some further evolved species than humans. 

he enjoyed pineapple juice and noodle soups, and refused to consume anything else that wasn’t those two options. 

he also had little antennae on the top of his head, that you soon figured were extremely sensitive and almost sacred of a body part, because when you reached to touch them once, he hissed for a warning and sneered as his body tensed up in a reflex response. 

channie wasn’t hostile at all, though. he respected you and your space, keeping his head down and not making much sound, only asking for things when he absolutely needed them. it seemed like where he came from — was an organized and neat, highly developed society that honored manners, respect, knowledge and… modesty? you weren’t sure if it was the right way to describe this certain feeling you were getting. maybe, channie was just… shy. which, if you were being honest with yourself, stirred something inside of you that only fueled the desire to get to know him better. closer. 

“screwdriver, where?” chan asks, popping his head into the living room where you’re now resting with a book in your hands. 

“ahh, not sure? maybe look in the garage, or the kitchen drawers?” you respond and briefly glance at the clock to then realize that he’s been up since 6 in the morning and still haven’t had a breather. 

“chan, aren’t you tired? maybe have a little break?” you add a second before he disappears again, and he stops, perking up his antennae and giving you an almost confused glance. 

“need repair ship. get home!” chan waves his hands as he speaks with a thick adorable accent. 

“i know. but you need rest, too. it’s okay to take a break for an hour.”

“and do what?” 

“rest.” you repeat gently, putting away a long forgotten book and patting the sofa, as if inviting him to sit and join you.

he hesitates but listens, probably out of politeness since you’re the host and he’s the guest, and it would be rude to just walk away from you. as he’s sitting on the sofa, it’s evident that he’s waiting for some sort of instruction or explanation from you, unsure what resting really means. 

“i can help you relax if you let me,” you propose carefully, leaning closer and putting your hand on his thigh, gently caressing him with soothing repetitive motions. 

chan blinks, naive and clueless, but he can admit the touch feels nice, so his body loosens up a little as he sinks further into the pillows. 

there’s a certain level of trust between you already, and you know he isn’t scared or concerned around you, which pushes you further to test out the waters. you slide your palm a little higher to his crotch, and he immediately turns his head to you. 

“why touch?” chan asks with sincere confusion. 

“because it feels good?” 

now it's your turn to be confused. has he never had sex before? is sex even a thing where he’s from? 

“feel good? dunno, chan never touch there,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders and then looking down at his own groin. 

oh.

you swallow and try to keep your cool, even though a strange and probably inappropriate wave of excitement jolts through your body at the news. 

“i can show you. it can feel very good and relaxing. you don’t have to worry, it’s not… painful or anything. it’s nice. can i show you?” you explain and try to sound as reassuring as you can, reading his facial expressions at the same time. 

while you’re studying him so closely, you can’t help but notice how ungodly, unearthly pretty he actually is. his grown out black locks and his sharp eyebrows give him an almost disheveled look yet he still looks so put together, so deeply intelligent. your gaze trails lower and stops at his lips. they’re a darker tint of blue, plush and perfectly shaped. you can tell they’re soft and tender just by looking at them. 

his nailbeds are the same dark blue as his lips, and it gives an impression of matching lipstick and nail polish, kind of rebellious and cute, except it’s just his natural body colors. refreshing.

he’s well built, too. like he can easily climb a tree if he needs to. like he will confidently pilot a heavy aircraft with stiff gears and controls. 

“you can show,” his voice takes you out of your haze, and you refocus on his eyes and scoot a little closer, so that now your noses are almost touching. 

“you can trust me. i won’t hurt you,” you reassure him one last time before planting a gentle kiss on his lips. you hear his breath hitch. gosh.

your movements are slow, patient and soft. the last thing you’d want is to scare him. 

as you undo his pants (the ones he was originally wearing. you washed them after the crash. the fabric is weird and the clasp is some smart unusual shape you’d never seen before), he shifts in place and jerks his hips nervously. this is the first time you see him blush, and it’s an even prettier look than his regular state because the tips of his pointy ears and his cheeks change to a deep violet color. 

chan’s hot to the touch too, and if you didn’t know it’s his natural body temperature, you’d think he's running a fever incompatible with life. his skin is literally burning up which, in contrast with its cold color, makes your brain shortcircuit and buffer every time you feel him.

he’s not wearing any underwear, just his strangely tailored pants, and when you cover his cock with your palm, you gasp out of surprise at what it feels like. 

it’s different. it’s definitely different. 

the shape is closer to a tentacle than a regular cylinder length. it’s twitchy and almost.. alive. flexible and extremely responsive to every brush of your hand.

under a little dark blue tip it’s slightly ribbed and bumpy, hardened but still feels like flesh. 

the antennae on his head begin to tremble, and chan’s breath quickens in a matter of seconds. you both glance at each other confused but with a distinct spark of interest. it’s new to both of you but something nudges you two to keep going. 

you slowly slide onto the floor and get on your knees in front of him, pushing his legs apart and situating yourself comfortably while his cock is out, on full display. sensitive and starting to leak some sort of thick and sticky slick from its slit. 

“a-aah—what-” chan stumbles over his own words, clearly too heated and disoriented to be speaking a language he’d only just learned. 

“sh-h, it’s okay. i’ll touch, and you’ll feel good” you whisper as you lightly squeeze the base of his length, trying to pump him up and down and coat him with his own precum. 

at this point, you’re done fighting your curiosity, so you lick at the head of his cock to taste it, and it takes you aback. it’s… not salty. in fact, it’s the opposite, and reminds you of something close to burnt sugar. kind of sweet, but rich, deep, heavy and with a pinch of something you can’t quite name. 

you take the entire tip into your mouth and suck on it, creating a little vacuum pull with your cheeks, to which chan jolts and almost coughs on his own suppressed moan. 

"do you want me to continue or do you want me to stop?" you ask to make sure.

"no—not stop... continue. please?" he shakes his head and furrows his eyebrows, still flushed with purple hued blush. 

he doesn’t need to ask twice. it’s all the confirmation you need, so you begin to suck again, bobbing your head and trying to take him in deeper each time. he fills your mouth nice and full, hot like gentle lava and textured like a dream come true.

you can only wonder how good and stimulating it must feel against your cunt, if it feels this good against the insides of your cheeks. 

chan’s cock twitches and pulsates for you, its tip pressing against the back of your throat and the roof of your mouth as if it’s also exploring you. as if chan wants to feel up your mouth, map it out with his sensitive part and push into you some more, mutually test how far he can go. 

at some point, you’re not even sure who’s fucking who. because as you grow more confident and properly sink down on him with your mouth, chan’s playing with you back, whether he's even aware he's doing it or not—you can't really tell. his heavy length presses on your tongue which makes more saliva drip down your chin. he rubs against the velvety insides of your cheeks and pushes at them with his curious tip.  one thrust he forces himself in too far, and you gag on it with a lewd sound that makes your own cunt clench.

the little bumps on his cock feel even more prominent now, almost massaging your lower lip with each push inside your mouth, with each slide down your tongue into your throat. somehow, even though you were the one starting it, you no longer feel much in control, now relaxing your jaw and mindlessly allowing chan to use and study you.

chan fully melts into the couch and lets himself get vocal, still tugs at the fabric of the sofa with his fingers as his antennae go limp and frizzy from new overwhelming sensations. 

a release catches both of you off guard as his cock shoots a fat warm load right down your throat. you barely manage to swallow it in time, and it feels similar to drinking hot honey milk in one gulp, only slightly thicker and silkier. 

his tentacle-y length falls onto his exposed stomach with an obscene wet slap, and chan tries to look down at you, his eyes unfocused and drunk-like. 

“did it feel good?” you whisper, hoarse and raspy, licking your lips and swallowing once again. 

“yes—feel good... good,” he replies with a nod, visibly spent and still out of it. 

the image makes you chuckle and smile proudly. 

“do again?” chan asks with a tint of hope. 

“what, right now?!” 

“no, no. no now. do again later?”

you snort and tilt your head to the side, eyeing him and, once again, thinking about how cute he is in his blissful unawareness and inexperience. 

“sure.” 

[that-stressed-out-chic]

this post was stuck in my head I had to look for it this morning because I had an epiphany;

all the slytherin skittles had the sorting hat confused for a bit before they all picked their own houses:

dorcas meadows who got hufflepuff (she swore the slytherin skittles to secrecy when they found out) because of her strong moral values and slytherin because of her ambitions, she picked slytherin the moment the hat presented her with the option.

regulus black got gryffindor and slytherin because the hat saw a quiet sort of courage in him and because he was a black. regulus begged to be put in slytherin; he knew that their parents won’t take well to having two gryffindors and someone had to uphold the black traditions.

one brother’s sacrifice for another’s freedom.

evan rosier got slytherin and ravenclaw but asks to be sorted into slytherin because pandora decided she didn’t want to constantly be calculating her actions and just be herself unfiltered so evan got slytherin, it wasn’t a hardship seeing as reg who he grew up with was there.

pandora rosier could be manipulative and cutthroat if she so desired, it was why the hat was confused for a bit because is it that she hadn’t yet realized or had no intention of using such qualities, in the end she managed to convince him that she was better as a ravenclaw, a good thing too because she’d have been an unstoppable force in slytherin.

barty crouch jnr from a young age had committed himself to undoing everything his father stood for, so when the hat got stuck on ravenclaw and slytherin which he knew his father would love because it was a chance to make connections that will advance his career, barty picked ravenclaw easily.

it wasn’t till third year when barty had started going from quiet and subtle rebellious acts to louder ones that the hat decided he’s definitely in the wrong house and he gets resorted to slytherin where pandora’s brother who she won’t keep quiet about is either his shorter quiet friend. it’s just his luck that he rooms with them as well and what do you know, pandora’s brother and his friend are quite cool.

cool enough that by the beginning of fourth year he begins a sexual relationship with reg, nothing more than sex between friends, they end up breaking it off by the end of the year, by the fifth year he begins one with evan, nothing but casual sex between friends or so he says even though he (and reg) knows that they called their relationship with each other off because he’s in love with evan and reg is in love with james.

by the end of fifth year, rosekiller finally becomes a couple and when they’re getting too out of hand with pda, pandora softly says,

“my brother is there.”

and barty crouch jnr turns the brightest shade of red

so this kind of got out of hand, but yeahhhhh

How about first year Barty gets sorted to Ravenclaw and third year Barty gets sorted to Slytherin. He thinks he's done something wrong because why would he need to be sorted again? He is a ravenclaw, then why is he here now?

"my brother is there" Pandora says kindly, trying to comfort him.

He doesn't care about Pandora's brother, what the hell, he wants to go back to his dorm, to his friends.

Then he meets Evan, and oh. Maybe Slytherin is not that bad.

[kings-highway]

As Haikyuu fan, are you surprised that Yamaguchi is the captain in 3rd year? I was shocked when I knew it. I thought it will be, Hinata.

And, why do you think Haikyuu is fans favorite for m/m shipping? Like, what about Haikyuu that made shippers love it so much?

Hi hi!

I definitely was surprised to find out Yamaguchi became captain, and you'll probably be surprised to find out that I actually have big opinions on it. Overall, I understand why Yamaguchi became captain and I think it was a relatively interesting move, and do definitely respect the choice. It certainly leaves a lot of interesting options open. *However,* I do also think it was the haikyuu narratives' weakest decision. And I mean that in terms of symbolism and balance. Yamaguchi is given *zero* interaction with captains, or to-be captains, on any teams, that show any kind of affinity towards leadership and growth in that direction. The only point you see him showing leadership qualities is his scene with Tsukki, with the "what else do we need but our pride," philosophy. Otherwise, the character arc he goes on is far more concerned with his personal lack of ability. Yamaguchi's story is "I want to be good enough to stand on the court" NOT "I want to be good enough to support my team." which is a very important distinction. And what's upseting about this is that I can see Yamaguchi's character arc so clearly to become captain, but they never give him those moments. Ennoshita is clearly shown wrangling and having moments to corral the team, Daichi is obvious a constant pillar of support and understands what makes everyone tick perfectly - all they would have had to do is, say, show Yamaguchi giving one (1) pep talk that was to someone other that his childhood best friend, or like, not panicking and thinking Yachi was dead when all he needed to do was give her Gravol.

I think the best way to fix the Yamaguchi-to-captain story would have been to give him even just one or two moments in the Inarizaki match where he is able to identify Kita as both the captain and a spare player, and recognize that valuable players are not always star-lineup players. Because at the end of the day, Ennoshita was a Daichi-style captain, but Yamaguchi is a Kita-captain. He works relentlessly even when there is little payout, his skills are all honed and practiced instead of raw talent, and he certainly could earn the #1, but I think his hatred of his bench position is what sets him apart from Kita and makes his eventual captaincy feel like a random decision, because a true captain would have learn, at some point, that if he wasn't the best player for the team, then it was good he was sitting out. Like Kita does - and like vice-captain Suga demonstrates as well.

And on TOP of it all, Hinata is given *direct* comparison to Daichi several times throughout the show (learning to receive, being the only middle school captains to "care" when they lose, they both have the same bike scene where they stop in front of a TV to learn about the volleyball game.) AND Hinata is explicitly stated to be like "direct sunlight" where characters are CONSTANTLY describing how being with him makes them want to fight as hard as they can. Fucking *Tsukki* even says it, at the training camp, how Hinata just being in the room makes him feel like he has to work way harder. Plus he clawed his middle school team together from the ground up with his own hands, he was made to be a captain. But for some reason Hinata is denied being the team captain, maybe because it would be "too obvious," even though Hinata LEARNS that "it's about the team" lesson that Yamaguchi never does in his pursuit of a better serve.

So I like Captain Yamaguchi, I think it does work well. But I think it was a weak storytelling decision that, because it's not played into, actually detracts from Yamaguchi's storyline by making him (in the meta narrative) as important as the others. So you get your four first years, and you have the star setter, the mastermind blocker, the ace, and the captain, whereas Yamaguchi spends the whole series supposedly showing that "even average people can learn to fight," that's sort of detracted from by the storytelling choice of him secretly being the to-be captain the whole time (unless, of course, they had leaned into the Kita-thing.)

---

Also Haikyuu fans have mostly M/M shipping because they have 100+ named characters with personalities, backstories and futures and 6 of them are women.

You can talk about what toxic women-hating discourse you want to, but the truth is, the haikyuu fandom *loves* it's women. And they respect pretty much every canon M/F Ship. Mika and Daishou are ADORED. If someone doesn't like TanaKiyo, it's usually to swap it for KiyoYachi, a F/F ship. I don't know about you, but pretty much every DaiSuga shipper I know is also like 90% sure that canon DaiYui would be absolutely delightful. Personally, if Bokuaka weren't so popular I think Yuki and Bokuto would have been an adorable ship, and I wish people shipped Terushima with Hana more. They have a lot of good, natural chemistry with the very few named women available, but unfortunately this is a show about boys' sports teams and my god it shows.

And unfortunately it's the fault of the haikyuu promotional team and writers for creating the shipping culture it has, because these characters have fucking government assigned best friends that always appear together. All the most popular ships are literally besties and appear beside each other as mascots for their team. I mean, look at this picture: This is the loading screen wallpaper for the Haikyuu mobile game "Fly High"

That's... yep. With the exception of the Miya Twins, that's every character + their most popular ship.

As a result, I think the haikyuu fandom tended to latch onto the pairs idea. All the common ships - even rarer ones - are usually based on who the characters' assigned bathroom buddy is. And notably, the only break for this is Asahi-Noya-Tanaka. Where Noya seems to flip between standing beside Tanaka and standing beside Asahi, which REALLY highlights even moreso why these pairs are taken as romantic, because then only reason this happens is because Tanaka's actual pair is his future fucking wife.

And before anyone says "but SakuAtsu-!" yall cannot escape the fact that Sakusa's first biggest ship was his cousin (and assigned bathroom buddy) that yall shipped because they were pairs and only managed to break out of it when the cousin-fairy came down from the sky like a fucked up Cassandra Clare plotline. But, Atsumu was only "free" to be shipped because his assigned bathroom buddy was his brother.

This isn't, obviously, to diss any of these pair ships - I love all of them! Because I love friends to lovers more than anything else, and I think it's really cute that all the haikyuu characters get a little bestie to follow them around. But I also think the "Haikyuu only likes M/M ships" idea is a bit of a correlation/causation misdirect, because it's a show that really does only have M/M friendships, and still absolutely adores the women when given them. At least... on my side of the internet. If you're experiencing Kiyoko hate call 911 and leave the building now, you're in the wrong half of the fandom my friend.

[im-still-a-robot]

M. It was impossible to make their name look good 😔

Notes:

- Main outfit based off the orginal skin for them (minus capelet). I might do a better design at a later point but I am out of outfit brain power atm

- They like nicer clothes (like sweaters and button ups) but are often annoyed by the lack of mobility

- Mask only comes off when alone or with people they trust. Their headscarf, on the other hand, is used to protect their hair, so they might take it off in public, but usually only briefly, to adjust it.

- The Moofia was important to them. Even after its effective dissolution, cows were very dear to them. Also cow axe :]

- Prone to annoyance and nervousness in equal measure. An asshole on bad days and tricky bastard on good ones.

Thats mostly it. I am going to be thinking about them for weeks to come <3

Diamond (the fox!) belongs to @twodragonsinatrenchcoat

I genuinely don't remember who the child was- feel free to tell me if you know :]

[badlydrawndedkidz]

hello there! it's me, Tortilla, known mostly as Mod by the people who have been following this blog for a While!

if you've ever scrolled for a bit here, you've probably Seen that I've tried a few times to get back into posting more often and failed comically as i grappled with the dreaded Mental Eel Nesses and Executive Dysfunction, among other things. especially since ask blogs aren't as popular as they were back in the day when i made this blog (2015! turned 9 years last aug 15th! that's an entire child. jin owes me a lot of child support,)

(before anyone gets scared, no I'm not deleting anything lol gimme a sec to word this thought)

okay so like. cutting straight to the point not gonna get sentimental right now I'll save that for later: i want to keep this blog active REALLY bad, but as much as I'd like to, for multiple reasons i cannot draw as much as i did back in the day, which is like... the main thing i usually post here. so I've been pondering for the past year or so What to Do about it

my one idea is to turn this into a general kgpr blog and reblog other people's art and official stuff and the alike here, instead of keeping it Just My Stuff

but the thing is, if i DO that i would want to change my url, because reblogging art to a place that's named "badly drawn--" whatever is. i Don't Want That y'know? it's disrespectful lol

the thing is that that's soooo many links that would Break. among other things. (+ i have nooo clue what id change the name to but that's a different issue)

so like, my question here is,

[dapperrokyuu]

While I do wish we can see more about the Anakt quartet's relationships, it was incredibly funny for me to be, like, "*Round 2 just got released* Oh, Till doesnt even KNOW or has ever talked to Mizi, hes just projecting and obsessed and heteronormative-" to "*experienced all the official art and Round 3 and 6* Oh, they were, like, actually friends to an extent and the meaning Mizi has to Till is very sweet even if its born of and is a reflection of just how desolate his lived experience just Is Constantly, ultimately a guy with a cute crush made buckwild due to- *gestures vaguely* -and hes heteronormative."

[sysig]

UI Special Feature! (Patreon)

[bendover-productions]

Sorry if you've already been informed of this, but in case you haven't, I just want you to know that Sam still has the teal pom pom hat! He said on the podcast that he misplaced it almost immediately and thought he had lost it, but that he found it in his bag once he got back!

NO!!! no one told me!!! 😭😭 thank you so much, that teal hat is incredibly important to me and i am delighted he still has it

^^^sam in that hat. to me tbh <3

[sacrificial-hare]

I don't even think "X would comfort me" anymore tbh. At this point it literally goes like this:

"X wouldn't treat me like this!"

"No, they...they definitely would. They'd probably treat you even worse."

"Oh yeah, true. Oh well. At least I'd miserable at their hands and not by myself."

being sad and trying to think about ur favorite characters to make yourself feel better is always kinda funny when every character u like is an abominable piece of shit. try to think "[X] would comfort me" no they would fucking Noooootttttt. Lol

[redandgreyscale]

hey! i saw you were taking writing requests, so if you're still doing that i would like more ace evan and bipolar barty

(i like a mentally ill character/a-spec person ship? that's gay? this never happens! [sarcasm])

Yes! I like myself a complex dynamic and these two for sure are one so a bit more on them <3

There are a couple indicators Evan has learnt to see to anticipate a manic episode. The first one is Barty becoming more impulsive. He talks a lot more, has no filter and does exactly what he wants to do, says things that don't make a lot of sense. The second one is Barty being more horny than usual (which is a lot to say).

They have their limits, their no crossing lines perfectly marked, but he also knows Barty's brain blurs a lot when he's like this, and he has learnt it will take more denying than it normally would for him to stop kissing or touching.

So now, once he tracks Barty having an episode, he completely avoids kissing. Is it the best option? Maybe not, but it is the one he's most comfortable with.

Barty doesn't like it at all because he just wants a kiss, and they fight, they scream, and then he bolts God knows where until he or Regulus find him doing shit he definitely shouldn't do.

Evan would love to be able to give Barty what he needs, but he's not. He won't. Still, he hates how much it affects their relationship even if they both think it doesn't. Of course it fucking does, Barty is the most sexual person you'll ever meet and Evan can barely tolerate touching his own dick less so his boyfriend's.

Barty always apologizes once he's feeling better. Sometimes they avoid talking about the things gone wrong, sometimes they're able to talk about it, but there are always apologies to be made, and that they do.

[ilikeevilblondes]

Beck and Call

18+ MDNI!

Summary: You’ve been divorced from Joel for a little while, now. But when your sink breaks and threatens to flood your house right before a date, you have no one else to call but him. Why does he come? You don’t know. Why does he look so fucking good? You don’t know, either.

W.C: ~6.2k

TL;DR: Rule number one of getting divorced: don’t fuck your ex-husband. (Optional).

Warnings: ex-husband!joel x ex-wife!reader, sappy love confessions, improper use of a sink, praise, oral f!receiving, mirror sex, unprotected p-in-v sex, (no outbreak!)

Note: as a child of divorce, i am allowed to touch upon this matter. anyway, happy fucking i mean reading

Part One | Part Two

One-third. A married couple’s least favourite fraction. 

It was (and is) a well-known fact that one in three marriages ends in separation. And of course, you—being the lucky duck you were—found yours rapidly accelerating toward that destination.

You and Joel had agreed that you’d be better off apart. Joel got his own place while you kept the house. And Sarah lived with you every other week.

All you needed to do was send your attorney the signed divorce papers.

Outside of the sympathetic comments you received from acquaintances and relatives almost daily, you were doing just fine.

In fact, tonight you had a date.

A date. The kind that made you choose a tight-fitting dress that hugged your curves just right. The kind that inspired you to wear your hair in something other than a claw clip. The kind that provoked you to shave places you haven’t shaved in a long time.

The lucky bachelor was a fellow divorcee named Mark, whom you had met on a single-parent dating app. He had a full head of hair, a decent sense of humour, and two rescued Labradors. He offered to bring you to his favourite Italian restaurant, bringing up the fact that he’d pick up the bill no matter what, much to your protests. Needless to say, you had a good feeling about him.

After one last check in the mirror, you grabbed your coat and slung your purse over your shoulder, ready to head out the door.

Then, you heard it.

A faint gurgling. 

You blinked twice, trying to zero in on the sound. Proceeding a few moments of intense concentration, you followed the sound into the ensuite bathroom.

The faucet was running. Had you forgotten to turn it off?

You reached for the handle. Twisted it. It spun freely, and nothing happened. 

You tried and tried again, but all your efforts were in vain. You could only watch the tap stubbornly defy you as the handle jutted uselessly, loose in its socket.

“Shit.” You breathed.

The faucet sputtered out a particularly heavy spurt of water as if to say: shit, indeed.

You sighed, staring helplessly at the sink as it stared contumaciously back, water that couldn’t be swallowed by the drain toppling over the edge of the sink.

A quick Google search informed you that you needed to turn off the principal water pipe—the mains. Which you didn’t know how to do. 

So, you resolved to delegate the problem to more capable hands. Like, a twenty-four-hour plumbing service. No, they could easily overcharge you. You could call your dad? No, he was too far.

Or…

Sighing, you dug out your phone from your purse and called your only remaining option. Someone who was a seasoned contractor, someone who dealt with this sink before, and someone who you just so happened to be divorcing. 

He answered on the third ring.

“Hey—everything okay?” Joel’s concerned voice filtered through your phone.

“No.” You inhaled. 

“No?” Joel echoed hesitantly, then waited for elaboration.

When nothing came, he cleared his throat.

Slightly confused, slightly wry, he continued, “This is the part where you tell me what’s wrong.” 

“Um, my sink’s busted.”

“Your sink… is busted?”

“Yeah. Faucet won’t turn off. It-It’s a lot of water.” You bit the inside of your cheek, leaning on the wall. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

A moment of silence, then:

“You need me to fix it?” 

Was that annoyance? Exhaustion? It definitely wasn’t exhilaration at the prospect of doing manual labour at eight o’clock on a Friday evening.

“You know what? Forget I called. This was stupid. Sorry to bother you—”

“I’m on my way.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, after he hung up, the smallest of smiles began forming on your face. 

Fifteen minutes later, a knock came from your front door.

You swung the door open, and there he stood. Tool bag in hand, flannel shirt stretching tightly over his broad shoulders, salt-and-pepper hair just a little bit unkempt.

It had been a good few months since the two of you went your separate ways, but there he was—still at your beck and call. What that meant, exactly, remained to be seen. 

But you were glad to see him, nonetheless.

“Hi,” You said breathlessly.

Upon seeing you, Joel’s brows shot up, and he blinked a few times.

“Hi.” He said back slowly, then cleared his throat. “Am I… interruptin’ something?”

You glanced down. Right. Tight dress and makeup.

“I have a date in…” You raised your left wrist and winced as you looked down at your watch. “Five minutes ago.”

“A date.” He clicked his tongue, nodding to himself. “Well, I’ll try to make this quick, then.”

You hummed a noise of agreement, pivoted, and, with a wave of your hand, invited Joel inside.

He stepped through the doorway with a quiet grunt. And, as he bent down to undo his boots, his coffee-brown gaze landed on a pile of unopened mail by the entryway table. A few envelopes had slipped to the floor, and he crouched to gather them without thinking. 

But, as he straightened up to his full height, his eyes lingered on the recipient line.

“Mrs Miller?” Joel read aloud.

“What?” Your breath caught in your throat, and you spun around to meet his stare.

Joel wordlessly held the envelope up with two fingers, the corners of his lips slightly upturned.

“Oh.” You cringed inwardly. “Yeah.”

“Didn’t, uh, realise that you were keepin’ the name.” He shrugged offhandedly, tossing the stack of mail onto the entryway table.

“I’m not. I just…” You ran a hand through your hair. “Paperwork isn’t final.”

For the divorce.

Joel’s eyebrows pinched together. “I sent you my signed copies, if—” 

“I know you did. I just haven’t sent the papers to my lawyer yet.” You pressed your lips into a thin line and avoided his gaze. “Just got a lot on my plate, recently.”

That was very unconvincing.

Joel hummed a noncommittal noise.

“Well…” He huffed sheepishly. “You know I always liked my name on you.”

You swallowed, feeling your stomach do a funny flip and your ears burn up. Why were your ears burning up?

“C’mon. The problem is upstairs.”

The faucet, to your dismay, hadn’t stopped. It was worse now, if that was even possible, spitting little rogue sprays of water alongside the main stream. Great.

You checked your watch again. Fifteen minutes late. You would no doubt have a few missed calls from your poor suitor if you had the guts to check your phone.

Joel sank to one knee as he inspected the sink, squinting at the appliance and shaking his head. Miraculously, he reached in and, a few rusty squeaks later, the water stopped.

“You fixed it.” You blinked.

“Far from it,” He muttered, frowning. “The cartridge’s shot. And the valve stem’s stripped. Who installed this?”

Without missing a beat, “You did.”

“…Right.”

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest. “So?”

“So, this isn’t a quick fix. I need to pull out the whole assembly. Maybe replace the handle, too. And judging by the corrosion around this nut—” He held up a discoloured metal hexagon like it had personally offended him. “You’ve probably had a leak back here for a while.”

You blinked. “And you didn’t notice that when you lived here?”

Joel turned to shoot you a look. “I was your husband, not your handyman.”

“Really? I could’ve sworn I married you for that toolbox of yours.”

“And here I thought it was ‘cause of my radiant personality.”

“Definitely not that.” You huffed out a laugh.

Despite his back being turned to you, you could just about make out a reluctant smile forming through his slightly greying stubble.

You watched as he rolled up his plaid sleeves, exposing tanned forearms that were entirely too bulky for someone in his mid-forties. He then dug into his bag, fishing out an Allen Wrench.

“You can go on your date,” Joel added, not looking at you. “I’ll be out of here in an hour. Two, tops. But… if you feel like gettin’ frisky, maybe do it at his place. Just in case.”

Right, your date.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you took out your phone. Six missed calls and a flurry of concerned texts.

Decidedly, you typed out an apologetic message mentioning a water-related emergency and stuffed your phone back in your purse.

“I’m staying with you.”

Joel froze and turned to look at you from over his shoulder. “No, you ain’t. I’ll take too long.”

“Well, I can’t leave you to fix my problems while I’m out eating overpriced ravioli.” You shrugged and, with a soft grunt, took a seat against the wall near him. “You’re not a plumber, you’re a… you’re my…”

Ex-husband.

You cleared your throat, then emphasised, “You’re not a plumber.”

Joel let out a slow exhale. “Do whatever you want, but I doubt watching me fix your sink is gon’ be as fun as your date.”

“I’ve got a full bottle of Pinot Noir in the fridge.” You tilted your head. “We can make it fun.”

Joel’s eyebrows shot up.

“Not—not in that way.” You rubbed a clammy hand down your face.

To your surprise, that earned you a small, gruff laugh from Joel, his eyes crinkling momentarily the way they only did when he was truly amused.

His voice was soft when he responded. 

“Go on and get the wine, then, sweetheart.”

Two crystal glasses and a little while later, Joel had put down his wrench and opted instead to sit beside you on your tiled bathroom floor, his shoulders brushing up against yours in the cramped space.

Efforts to tame the defiant sink had long since been forgotten. He did the best he could, but retired upon discovering that you had no spare sink handle lying around—how very unprepared of you.

The bad news was that you weren’t going to be able to wash your hands in the master bedroom ensuite tonight. The good news was that you were having a surprisingly good time with Joel. The conversation evolved from discussing your stood-up date (you showed Mark’s profile, Joel was convinced he was lying about his dogs being rescues), then to how his company was going, and then, reminiscing about the good ol’ days.

“All I’m sayin��,” Joel continued through a laugh. “Is that she did it on purpose.”

“My mom has always been bad with names!”

“Bad enough to still call me ‘George’ after a year of us datin’?” He scoffed.

You stifled a giggle. “In her defence, it’s a very similar—”

“Like hell it is. And your dad? He was worse.” Joel chuckled, finishing the last of his wine. “How is he?”

“Fine. Just called him yesterday, actually.”

“He still callin’ me–?”

“He still calls you ‘porn stache’, yes.”

Joel snorted into his hand, his shoulders bobbing up and down with laughter. Real, genuine laughter.

You smiled and turned to steal a glance at his profile.

His eyes crinkled at the corners, his hooked nose scrunched mid-chuckle, and his laugh was exactly as it was before—low and rough, but somehow boyish and unguarded.

You had almost forgotten how his whole face lit up when he laughed.

And, you didn’t mean to stare. But you did. 

God, you missed this.

“I think I prefer George.” Joel ran a hand down his face, still smiling.

You cleared your throat and leaned over to retrieve the almost-empty wine bottle, refilling your glasses.

“Sarah told me to say hi to you, if I got the chance, by the way.” You said, pouring the Pinot Noir into his glass. “She’s with my parents at the lake house.”

“The lake house?” Joel hummed, taking another sip of his drink. “Still disappointed I didn’t get that in the settlement.”

You snorted, amused. “You don’t even like lakes.”

“No, I don’t like the mosquitoes that come with the lakes.” Joel corrected you, pointedly. “But, I don’t know, I guess I just miss it. A lot of good memories there.”

You felt yourself smile. “Yeah. Yeah, there were.”

A beat.

“Hey, at least you kept the cars. And the boat. And the frequent flier miles. And, well, you see Sarah every other week.” You turned to look at Joel, but he was already looking at you.

A certain vulnerability swam in the brown of his eyes. Something you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“Yeah, well… there were more important things I couldn’t keep.”

The air thinned. The wine, the laughter, the conversation—everything dissolved in the quiet admission, hanging thickly in the space between you.

And suddenly, there was only you and Joel and the mistakes that had wedged you apart yet somehow brought you back together again; on a random Friday evening on the floor of a bathroom you used to share.

“Joel…” You swallowed, your hand falling from your lap onto the tiles.

But you couldn’t form any semblance of a sentence. How could you? 

There was nothing to say. Yes, you missed him. ‘Missed’ was an understatement. 

Sometimes you’d roll over in the night, wishing to feel the weight of his arm resting on your waist, reassuring you that these past few months had only been a bad dream. Sometimes you came to pick Sarah up early, just to get a few more minutes with him. Sometimes—no, a lot of the time, memories of him came rushing back, cleaving your heart into two, further and further each time.

No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t let go of the man you spent so many years loving. 

Joel’s eyes still bore into yours. And nothing in the world could have torn you away.

He exhaled slowly, then set down his glass with care. His hand barely brushed yours, but it was enough to make your breath hitch.

“I think about it,” He said softly. “More than I should.”

“Think about what?”

A quiet, almost sad laugh escaped from his throat. He leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

“How things used to be.”

“Oh,”

A moment passed, marked only by the metre of your incessant heartbeat pounding in your ears.

And then, “Do you ever miss us?” Joel asked.

You faced him once more. The answer was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Because that was too complicated. Because that would break you.

Joel didn’t need you to say it. He found the answer in your eyes.

All the time.

Instead, you asked, “Do you? Miss us, that is.”

“Of course, I do.” He said softly. “More than you can imagine.”

You held your breath.

Joel heaved a sigh.

“I think about calling,” He added, voice low. “Just to hear your voice.”

“I’d answer,” You said, barely above a whisper.

He smiled in a bittersweet, melancholic sort of way and leaned in just slightly. Unconsciously, you mirrored him.

And then his eyes flickered down to your lips. It was only for a second, but it was enough to make your stomach flutter.

This was dangerous. You should’ve told him to leave ages ago. Or, maybe you should’ve left yourself and gone on your date.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

“Can I ask you something stupid?” You whispered.

Joel whispered back, “Always.”

“Do you…” You trailed off, biting your lip.

“Do I what?”

“Do you—does even a part of you… want what we had back?” 

You knew what he was going to say. You just wanted to hear it for yourself.

And you did.

“Yes,” He admitted earnestly.

You searched his face for any sign of deception, but found none. The only thing in his coffee-brown eyes was regret. And, maybe, something else, too. Something softer.

Your eyes widened. “We fought a lot.”

“We did.”

“And we probably said some shit.” You sighed, looking up at the ceiling, as if all the answers were written there. Joel did, too.

His voice came softly, sadly, “We did.”

Silence again. Thick and fragile and charged with so many unspoken words.

Joel’s knee brushed yours, neither of you pulling away. It was nice to have him close, to feel his familiar warmth, to see him—really see him. Bare and raw and vulnerable. No facades of indifference. No hiding behind closed car doors. Just Joel, your Joel, there beside you; soft-eyed and quiet, like maybe he was seeing you, too.

Your fingers twitched on the floor beside his. You wanted to reach for him, but you wanted him to reach first. Absently, you fiddled with your left ring finger, suddenly aware of its bareness.

He looked at you then. Not a glance, but a full turn, slow and deliberate. His dark eyes searched your face, pausing on your mouth, your cheek, your lashes, then settled on your eyes again. He looked at you like you were something he’d spent months trying to forget, and only just now remembered why he couldn’t.

You held your breath.

Joel’s voice, when it finally came, was low, cracked around the edges.

“I know it was bad in the end, but I meant what I said.” He breathed. “I miss us. I miss you.”

Your heart twisted. And there went that cleaver again, slicing further.

“I miss seeing your keys on the kitchen counter and knowing you were home. I miss kissing you before work and smudgin’ your lipstick. I miss watching stupid movies with you that we’d fall asleep to halfway.”

His throat bobbed. He leaned back against the wall, like it hurt to say it out loud.

“Yeah, we fought and said some real mean shit. But God help me, I’d give anything to go back in time and fight for you like I should have. Because you were it for me. You were everything. Still are.”

His eyes glistened as he held your gaze, fierce and unflinching.

“Because, no matter how hard I try to ignore it,” He smiled to himself, shaking his head like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I love you.”

He loves you.

Those three simple words rang in an echo in your mind. He loves you, he loves you, Joel loves you.

“You love me?” You could barely hear your voice above the deafening thrum of your pulse.

Your faces were barely an inch apart, now. You could smell the familiar scent of his laundry detergent, and traces of his cologne, and wood, and tobacco, and something that was so uniquely him.

Joel nodded.

“I never stopped.” He whispered.

Without thinking, you closed the remaining distance, smashing your lips against his. Joel grunted in surprise, but quickly gave in, exhaling through his nose like he’d been holding a breath in for years. 

He returned the kiss with equal fervour, reaching out to cup your face and pouring all his pent-up emotions against the haven of your lips—longing, relief, desire.

You pushed yourself closer against him. Closer, impossibly closer, until you were straddling his lap, moving against the tent in his jeans, feeling his big hands instinctively settle on your hips, and tasting the Pinot Noir on his lips.

Shit. Was this even a good idea?

You pulled away suddenly. A tiny whine came from Joel, who tried to chase your mouth, but you were insistent.

“Wait,” You panted.

His eyes opened fully. His brows were knitted, his lips were kiss-swollen, and his chest was heaving slowly.

“What?” Joel asked quietly, his thumbs idly tracing circles on either side of your hips.

“This…” You breathed. “I don’t want this to be a one-time thing. I don’t want it to mean nothing.”

Joel smiled softly at your words.

“Means a whole lot to me, sweetheart.” His hand went to gently tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek in his wake. “We can talk about what this means, if you w—”

“Okay, good. Means a lot. Talk after.”

“After?” His eyebrows rose.

“After you fuck me.”

A breathy ‘Jesus Christ’ slipped from his throat, but Joel didn’t spend a second refusing your bold assumption.

With a hand on your nape, he leaned forward to capture your lips in another searing kiss, which you happily accepted, sighing against him.

His big hands then travelled to the back of your thighs, and the next thing you knew, he carelessly swept away whatever was decorating the base of your faucet, and carried you with ease to perch you atop the sink.

“Joel.” You mumbled urgently into his lips.

“Mmm?” He hummed back, not wanting to break your mouths apart for even a second. 

“Might break the sink again.”

“Don’t care. I’ll fuckin’ fix it again, then. Just… need you,” Joel groaned. “Look too fuckin’ good,”

And he pulled away. His half-lidded, cloudy gaze drank you in, sweeping down the snugness of your dress, and lingering on the generous amount of cleavage it revealed. His hands drifted higher and higher up your thighs, until they reached the hemline—dipping under just slightly.

“Too fuckin’ good,” He snarled.

You smirked. Knowing him, he was definitely going to ask if—

“How much was this dress?”

Sighing amusedly, “It wasn’t cheap.”

“How attached are you to it?” He mumbled, a hand reverently skirting up to your hip.

“A moderate amou—”

“Can I rip it off you?”

There it was.

In the many years you were married, Joel shredded more than enough articles of your precious wardrobe in similar heated moments. If you were to count the offences, you’d likely run out of fingers. Your wedding dress had been among the few survivors of his destructive tendencies, though not for lack of trying on his part.

You stifled a snort and shook your head, reaching up to caress his face. 

“No.” You smiled. “Because I’d like to wear it again.”

Joel held your hand against his face and huffed out an exaggerated sigh. “Next time.”

And then his hands found the zipper on your side, pulled it sharply down, and tugged the dress off you.

His eyes darkened.

You had chosen to don an intricate, black, lacey number underneath your dress that teased just enough and only hid the bare minimum. Of course, you had. You hadn’t had an opportunity to wear anything vaguely provocative in ages and were expecting some luck after your date.

You certainly didn’t expect that your ex-husband would be the one seeing it.

“This for him?” Joel’s lip twitched.

Heat rose in your cheeks. “Well, I—”

“Yeah, these don’t get a pass.”

With a sharp tearing noise slicing through the air, Joel ripped the flimsy lacey bra clean in half, watching intently, hungrily, as your tits spilled out.

“Joel!”

“I know, I know,” Joel grunted. “I’ll buy you a new set… buy you all the fuckin’ sets.”

You were about to object, intent on citing the price attached to that particular pair, but Joel had sunk back on his knees and spread your legs apart.

He pressed his lips on your inner thigh, scruff tickling your skin as he slowly, softly trailed his mouth upward, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

His face came to a stop in front of your core, noticing how heavily you were breathing, and his eyes flicked up to yours, smirking. Smug fucking bastard.

“Joel.” You gritted your teeth.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Don’t fucking tease me.” 

And he leaned his forehead against the lower part of your navel, taking a second to breathe in the unmistakable scent of your arousal seeping through your lingerie. 

He was practically salivating, now. 

“I’ll try not to, ma’am.” 

Without another word, he took the lace into his teeth, yanked his head sharply, and tore your panties open.

Confirming his suspicions, you were absolutely soaked. Slick drooled freely out of your puffy folds, taunting him and draining every ounce of self-restraint he had. 

Fuck, you were gorgeous.

“Tell me,” Joel said lowly, meeting your gaze once more as a thick finger swiped lightly through your lips, collecting your arousal. “This for him or me?”

“You.” You breathed without a second thought.

“Louder, sweetheart. My ears ain’t what they used to be.”

“You.”

Smirking wider, “Damn fucking right.”

Then, he happily hitched your legs over his shoulders, leaned forward, and dove in.

His tongue prodded into your heat, dragging down your walls and sending jolts of electricity down your spine. He worked fast and sloppily, sliding through your folds and flicking into your walls, urgently tasting you like he wouldn’t get another chance. 

Your arousal coated the lower half of his face, his eyes were almost black with desire, obscenely wet noises echoed in the silence of the tiled room as his tongue eagerly devoured you whole—

“Fuck, almost forgot how good you taste. So fuckin’ sweet.” Joel mumbled against your sex, entirely, wholly bewitched. “She missed me, too, huh? Just drippin’ for me…”

He continued to furiously lap at your entrance, scruff rubbing against your inner thighs. And then he moved up, planting messy kisses higher and higher until he reached your swollen clit.

You gasped brokenly, flinging a hand to grasp his curls as his lips alternated from pressing messy kisses along your seam to greedily sucking at your bundle of nerves, latching onto it almost desperately.

After a particularly delicious drag down the roof of your core, you rolled your hips up into his mouth and brought him closer to you with your grip in his hair.

“Shit—sorry.” You panted, breathing heavily.

He barely pulled away to look at you.

“Don’t fuckin’ be. I can handle it, you know I can.” Joel all but growled, before returning to attend to your needy fucking pussy.

He was like a man possessed; lapping frenziedly, groaning lowly into your sensitive skin, curved nose swiping through your folds as he worked.

Very soon, a familiar tingle in your lower stomach introduced itself.

“Joel,” You called urgently, attempting to warn him.

He knew you were close. Oh, he knew. So, he went faster and harder, pressing himself further against you, suffocation be fucking damned.

His low, wrecked voice came slurred and slightly muffled by your sex, “Y’gonna come? Go on, baby, all over my face—thaaat’s it.”

A shattered moan escaped from your throat, and you felt your release take over your body almost violently. You couldn’t help the way your legs clamped down around his head, but Joel loved it, letting you smother him and humming happily into your heat as he worked you through your climax, swallowing your release and eating like a man starved.

Finally, he pulled away with a wet squelch, softly pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, and gently let your legs down.

And you were immediately greeted with the sight of his lower face shining with your slick.

A good look on him, if you’d say so yourself.

He smiled lazily, eyes blown-out and absolutely fucking pussydrunk. 

“That good for you, sweetheart?” He mused.

“You, Joel Miller, are what we call a munch.” You smiled back.

Pride bloomed across his face. “Gladly, sweets.” 

And you pulled him up by the collar of his flannel shirt into a filthy kiss, tasting your arousal on his lips.

He let his eyes fall shut and reached up to curl a hand around your jaw as he returned the kiss, his brows furrowed in concentration.

Not wasting any time, your hands flew to his belt, blindly fumbling at the leather material to slide it out of the loops of his jeans.

Joel chuckled, leaning forward to trail his lips down your neck, leaving a path of open-mouthed kisses.

“Need somethin’, baby?”

“Wanna return the favour,” You glanced down at the bulge in his lap.

“Mm-mm. That was more for me than you. Missed your sweet fuckin’ pussy.” Joel mumbled against your pulse point.

“Munch.” You couldn’t help but giggle.

“Yeah, yeah.” Joel sighed, lifting his head and undoing his jeans just barely enough to pull himself free from his boxers. 

You heard yourself swallow.

Joel Miller was a big man, and you were very aware of that fact. It was written all across his body; from his impossibly broad shoulders, to his beefy arms, to his thick fucking cock.

He stroked himself, once, twice, as his eyes fell to your pulsating, slick core. Beads of precum leaked from his flushed tip and down his length as he did so.

“Spread those legs wider for me, baby. Let me see you,” He breathed lowly.

And you very willingly obliged.

“There’s my girl,” Joel hummed.

With a hand around his base, he guided himself closer to your drooling cunt, nudging his swollen head against you.

Sighing, “Deep breath, baby.”

And he slowly forced himself in, one hand on the small of your back, the other on the underside of your thigh, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist as he steadily fed you his cock.

You gasped some variant of a plea.

Needless to say, he was a tight fucking fit.

“Takin’ me so well. That’s it, baby, let me in.” He blabbed mindlessly as he continued to sink deeper inside. 

Deeper, deeper, deeper…

He winced. “Shit—there you go.”

When all of him was nested inside your welcoming channel, he let out a gasped expletive at the sensation.

Full. You felt so full with him inside. You always did.

“Fuck, missed this.” Joel panted, resting his forehead against yours. 

You tried to echo the sentiment, but the only thing you were capable of doing was letting out an incoherent groan of his name.

Joel got the message, though.

Maintaining an unhurried tempo, he rolled his hips back and forth, slowly dragging his thickness against your walls, making you painfully aware of every last inch of him.

“How’s that feel, baby?” He mumbled, voice airy.

“Good. Feels so good.”

And, fuck, he did. 

He felt amazing.

His tempo soon picked up, leaving your mouth to fall open as you took every inch of him again and again, stretching you open with enough pleasure to dull the slight pain.

“Tell me,” Joel hummed as he continued to drive ceaselessly in and out of your tight channel, adopting a false lilt of indifference. “Who’s fuckin’ you so good, huh?”

An incoherent syllable slipped from your lips.

“Who, baby?” Joel urged you, unrelenting in his pace. “Sure as hell ain’t fuckin’ Mark.”

Dumbly, you shook your head.

“You, Joel.”

Your words were almost drowned out by the symphony of your own moans, which were accompanied by the obscenely wet slaps that sounded every time his hips fully met yours.

“Louder.” He snarled, punctuating his response with an intentionally rough ram. “Neighbours can’t hear you yet, c’mon.”

“You, Joel!”

Satisfied, his hands went to hold you by your waist, keeping you as still as possible as he drove insistently into you, his tip now kissing your cervix with every thrust.

You cried out at the feeling, nails raking down his back.

Heat pooled in your gut, your vision blurred, a high-pitched ringing almost deafened your ears.

“Joel, Joel, I’m…” You babbled.

“Close? Go on, gorgeous. Let me feel you choke my dick.”

With his blessing, his name left your mouth in a high-pitched scream, and you felt yourself clench around his throbbing length as your orgasm rippled across your body like an earthquake.

Joel, being the overachiever he was, didn’t stop for even a second until your breathing slowed and your eyes fluttered open again.

And, once he saw that you had recovered, he leaned forward to slant his mouth against yours, swallowing your sighs.

“You okay?” He mumbled into the kiss, barely breaking away.

“Yeah.” You exhaled. 

He smiled against your lips.

“Good. Almost there, baby. Gonna take you against the sink, now, and you’re gonna give me one more, how’s that sound?”

You nodded dreamily, feeling him slowly pull out.

He leaned back and, with his hands on your waist, delicately set you down.

“Turn ‘round for me, sweetheart.” 

You acquiesced without hesitation, bracing yourself on the porcelain countertop.

Joel hummed, kicked your legs open even wider, and, not long after, sank the entirety of his cock into you in one deep thrust.

A sharp breath hit the air behind you, and an airy ‘fuck’ followed it. This angle made him feel bigger, if that was even possible.

He didn’t wait long after that. He couldn’t. Overcome with the need to feel you, he started moving. The first thrust was slow. Experimental. The second was hard. The third was harder.

Before you knew it, his big hands found a home on your hips, and he began to drive roughly into you, as if making up for lost time.

He certainly proved he was willing to atone for his absence, thrust after thrust.

“Oh, look at you.” Joel tutted and pulled your hair to tilt your head upwards.

You came face to face with the woman in the bathroom mirror.

Somewhere in between thrusts, your mouth had fallen agape, letting loose a long whine of pleasure, which was stuttered by every slam of his hips against yours.

Your hair was frizzy, your face was flushed, your hooded gaze was flooded with desire, and a light sheen of sweat doused every inch of your skin.

You were a wreck, thanks to the man fucking you so well behind you.

“Eyes up here.” Joel sighed. “Keep ‘em open. Gotta watch how well you take me.”

Joel was even more of a sight. 

The top few buttons of his flannel were undone, his sleeves were haphazardly rolled up, his hair was wild, and the look on his weathered face was nothing short of territorial as he held you to him and fucked you with reckless abandon.

Your eyes fell to where your bodies were connected, hypnotised by how easily his tanned cock disappeared in and out of your puffy cunt.

Again.

And again.

And again.

The corners of his lips were coyly upturned when he cooed, “Don’t we look good, baby?”

You could only respond in broken syllables.

“Yeah,” He grunted. Then, after a particularly forceful thrust, “we do.”

He continued to ram into you, finding your cervix with each thrust, keeping his eyes trained on the mirror, fixated on how your tits bounced so prettily for him.

“Beautiful.” He whispered, jaw tight.

If your brain hadn’t been turned to mush after the two orgasms he forced out of you, you would’ve heard him. But all you were focused on was the rush of another climax approaching.

You gripped the countertop harder and gritted your teeth, feeling warmth collecting in your stomach and bracing yourself for impact.

As if reading your mind, Joel’s hand moved from your hip to your front, trailing down until he brushed your clit, rubbing sloppy semi-cricles and whispering sweet things as you whimpered.

“You gonna give me one more?” He murmured encouragingly, his nose nudging the side of your face.

You could only manage an open-mouthed nod.

His fingers sped in their motions, swiping at your clit feverishly as he continued to rut into you, grazing your cervix each time.

Again. And again. 

“Come for me, sweetheart. I’ll catch you.” He whispered gently.

Your jaw slackened, your heartbeat quickened, and, in a blinding flash of pleasure, you came with his name on your tongue, helpless to the throes of your climax.

“There you go. Shit… so good for me.” Joel groaned. And then, urgently, “Where—where do you want me to–?”

Not even a full second later, “Inside.” 

“You sure?” He panted, starstruck. 

“I have an IUD, just—please.”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he pressed closer, his chest flush against your back, letting you feel every shaky pull of his breath as he caged you in. His hands found yours at the edge of the sink, lacing over them gently. His head dropped beside yours, his forehead nearly touching your temple, and a warm breath fanned across your skin as he sighed. 

And then he resumed his earlier pace.

He rammed into you hard and fast, chasing his own release as if it were a life-or-death situation. And all you could do was take it.

After a dozen more jerky thrusts, his breath caught in his throat and, with a low curse, he came. Hot ropes of his spend spilled inside you, and he rode it out until he couldn’t give you any more, which took a few more lazy rolls of his hips.

His breath evened not long after, warm and steady against your browbone. Soothing, almost.

Gently, he pulled out of you, and you felt his come slowly drip down your thighs.

“Fuck,” He breathed, pressing a soft kiss to your hair, scruff rubbing against your crown as he did so.

And he bowed his head to rest it on the crook of your neck.

“That was great, George.” You panted.

Joel snorted tiredly. “Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?”

“Nope.”

He huffed out a chuckle.

Then, he languidly pressed a trail of open-mouthed kisses wherever his lips could reach—the underside of your jaw, your throat, your neck, and down, still.

A warm, fuzzy sort of feeling radiated from his touch, lulling you into a state of bliss. It felt like love; it felt like coming home.

You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face.

Joel mumbled something unintelligible against your shoulder.

“What?” You replied, breaking free from your trance.

“I said,” He pulled away and, with two fingers on your chin, tenderly turned your face to look at him. His voice was wrecked and so very earnest when he finally repeated himself. “Don’t send the papers. Please.”

He held the rest of his plea in his eyes in the way they shone with a certain sincerity.

You smiled softly and shook your head. Because you knew you never really had any intention to. Because you wanted to hold on to him. And you were glad he wanted to hold on to you, too.

Your lips found his. Gentle, delicate, a reassurance. He gave in to the kiss almost immediately, sighing into your mouth.

“I won’t.”

And you meant it.

thanks for reading!!! reqs are open, if you wanna send an idea or anything over :)

🏷️: @whaddupbaby, @pedritodowney08, @martuxduckling, @aadhinagony, @lanabobana, @pedr0swh0r3, @romancherry, @strawberriesandhotmen, @streamermattsgf, @bonneyzsk, @worhols, @serendippindots, @paprikainfurs, @lanternnightgarden, @12vamppp, @savvyisss, @umadirectioner, @tinawantstobeadoll, @not-the-teen-witch, @wundagre, @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere, @guelyury, @joelspickle, @callofdiva, @hotnmad, @brightestxxwitch, @pearl-diver-m, @kungfucapslock, @hellokittyyloverrrr, @meganfoxismywife, @natalieispunk, @billionairecowgirl, @my-tearsricochet

[afloweroutofstone]

what i’ve failed to understand since i was a kid is why these ghouls want war with iran so badly. is it resources? do they have money in defense contracting? is it just that iran is too strong an opponent to us hegemony? why specifically do they want to see iran destroyed?

There is not one singular motivation behind the drive to send the US to war with Iran. There are multiple motivations which often overlap, but which are held in different orders of prioritization by different advocates of war. Most of these motivations are irrational and/or immoral, while others are legitimate complaints that could be addressed through diplomacy far more easily than they could through militarism.

Here's ten common motivations and arguments for a US war with Iran which you might encounter:

Independence from the US: The Iranian government is among the world's least-willing governments to obey US demands and subjugate themselves to the US-led order. For certain US primacists, this independence means that their very existence poses an existential threat to US dominance (similar to North Korea, Cuba, etc.) To a particular type of US militarist, it is necessary for the Iranian government to fall in order for the US to remain the unquestioned leader of the world.

Real Fear of their Nukes: There is a substantial contingent who really does believe that Iran is close to developing a nuclear weapon and that they could well use it if they were to develop it. Logically, the best way to address this concern would be through a diplomatic deal similar to the 2015 JCPOA, which Iran complied with! But the intensity of anti-Iranian sentiment among US hawks tends to convince them that direct military confrontation is somehow a better option, thus explaining why Trump decided to break this deal.

Desire for Revenge: Many older foreign policy hawks in the US have never forgiven Iran for 1) the 1979 US Embassy hostage crisis, and 2) the 1983 bombing of the US Embassy in Lebanon, which was orchestrated by a terror organization with ties to the Iranian government. In their minds, both of these incidents were embarrassments to the US' military prestige which we have never properly gotten revenge for. (These people tend to ignore the massive wrongdoings which the US has carried out against Iran during this same time period, like the US destruction of Iran Air Flight 655). There are people in and around the Pentagon who have wanted to bomb Iran over a grudge for more than 40 years now.

Iran's Regional Proxies: Over the last several decades, Iran has engaged in an aggressive campaign to expand their influence throughout the region by supporting proxy paramilitary forces in Iraq, Lebanon, Syria, Yemen, etc. Many of these proxies have undeniably engaged in acts of terrorism. This strategy is both opportunistic (taking advantage of the power vacuum caused by the US overthrow of Saddam Hussein) and defensive (countering the regional influence campaigns of Saudi Arabia and Turkey). This is probably the most legitimate cause of US anger towards the Iranian government, but it is a grievance which will only be worsened by backing Iran into a corner militarily.

Israel (and Saudi Arabia) Hates Them: Iran is unfriendly with two of the US' closest partners in the region: Israel and Saudi Arabia. The Israeli government, in particular, has long been laser-focused on the overthrow of the Iranian government, and they are fully committed to dragging the US into such a regime change operation. For the most fervent defenders of Israel in the US, overthrowing the Iranian government is near the top of their wishlist.

They Got Oil: Oil is a factor which is often overstated in these discussions, but it definitely is one of the factors. Iran currently produces 5% of the world's oil and has the potential to produce far more were the current sanction regime against it to be removed. They also have the ability to shut down the Straight of Hormuz, an important chokepoint through which 25% of the world's oil flows. Regime change in Iran would significantly increase the leverage that the US and its allies hold over global oil markets and further weaken the strength of OPEC.

And Other Commodities Too!: Though the separation between the US and Iranian economies hurts the US economy as a whole, there are certain sectors of US industry that benefit enormously from having Iran so heavily sanctioned. Some of the big names in the US pistachio industry have lobbied heavily to keep US-Iranian relations unfriendly, because the elimination of US sanctions on Iran would allow the massive Iranian pistachio industry to compete with the US industry. As long as these two governments hate each other, a few politically-connected US businessmen make way more money.

Diaspora Pressure Campaigns: Most Iranian-Americans hold the following two opinions at the same time: 1) they hate the current Iranian government and want to see it replaced, but 2) they strongly oppose US efforts at regime change in Iran. However, there is a vocal minority of Iranian-Americans that do support regime change efforts, and they tend to cluster into two well-organized groups that wage pressure campaigns against the Iranian government. The first are the monarchists, who want to see the son of the former US-backed Iranian dictator restored to power. The others are those who are loyal to the MEK, a cult and former terrorist organization which has been extremely effective at building relationships with US politicians. Both of these groups work full-time to push the US towards overthrowing the Iranian government so that they can step in and take over; it's fairly easy to find both of these groups in online social media threads about US-Iranian relations.

Who Cares, We Want War: As I have written about many times before, the US military-industrial complex encourages the US government to engage in militarist behavior in order to boost their profits. Iran is one of their favorite boogeymen to justify increased levels of US military spending, second only to China. These companies fund think tanks and other policy initiatives to argue that Iran is an immediate threat to us, and then they fund political candidates who want to spend more money preparing for this "threat."

They're Crazy! You Can't Trust Them!: We are led to believe that the Iranian government cannot be negotiated with because they are irrational, they're anti-Western religious zealots incapable of reasoned decision-making. This is a convenient excuse for war, but it's entirely incompatible with the restraint that the Iranian government shows in responding to Israeli attacks, their continued willingness to sit down for diplomatic talks with their aggressors, the way that they helped the US government deal with al Qaeda and the Taliban after 9/11, and a million other indications that the Iranian government is just as rational as any other government in its geopolitical decision-marking.

Add all of that together, and you get a deranged political ecosystem obsessed with inflating the scale of foreign threats, finding excuses for maintaining the trajectory of our militarist status quo, increasing regional tensions, and rejecting obvious opportunities for diplomacy and a peaceful resolution of our differences.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 | eddie munson x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | based on a request from the lovely @ultraintrovertedgryffindor ; getting stuck in an elevator with his best friend (and secret crush) was absolutely not on eddie's morning agenda, but it leads to one of his most wild fantasies coming to life.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 3.8k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | SMUT (18+ only!! semi-public sex, oral m receiving, kinda pervy eddie but also slightly pervy reader with a balls fixation gee I wonder where that idea came from), best friends to lovers (but very very limited plot haha), pretty much exactly what it says on the tin y'all not sure what to say

Eddie laughed as he pressed his hands to the elevator doors, but it wasn't a laugh of amusement— it was exasperation, frustration, an is this really happening? laugh.

"Soonest we can get a crew out there is uhh... noon?" the voice on the emergency phone informed you.

"Noon?!" you yelped. "It's not even half past eight!"

"What did I tell ya?" Eddie recalled, hanging his head in defeat for a second. "Nothing good happens before ten."

"Just try to stay calm and we'll be there when we can," the operator suggested, like it was so simple.

You didn't even reply to that, just scoffed and hung up.

It wasn't like he'd been looking forward to his GED exam, in fact he'd almost been hoping for a way to put it off or get out of it... but this was definitely not what he was imagining. Of all the elevators to get stuck in, this generic government building where he was supposed to have his big test proctored was probably the most boring option.

He glanced over at you, and stopped himself from making a dirty joke: you heard that Aerosmith single, right? Love In An Elevator?

That probably wouldn't have gone over well. He used to say stuff like that when you were both a little younger, but he'd since given up hope of it ever actually... inspiring anything.  You two were probably better off as friends anyways; or, that’s what he told himself to make it sting a little less.

“Looks like we’ll be stuck in here for a while…” he mumbled instead.  “Did they say what the issue is?”

“Some kind of power failure?” you recalled with a shrug.  “It’s gonna take a while to fix, that’s the important thing.  Do you think they’ll call the fire department?”

“Who knows,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the wall as you sank onto the floor and dropped your head back against the wall.  “I guess we should just try to get comfortable.”

Which was easier said than done, but at least he was stuck here with you— you were generally pretty fun to talk to.  Of course, you weren’t exactly in your best mood due to the circumstances…

At 8:32, Eddie checked his watch.  “I’m officially late for my exam,” he noticed.

At 9, you checked your own; “And I’m officially late for work.  We'll see if I even still have a job when we get out of here," you groaned. "I was on pretty thin ice already."

By 9:14, the stuffiness of the elevator was becoming harder to ignore.  Eddie slipped off his jacket and vest in response to the heat, but resisted the urge to take off his Ozzy shirt. You'd seen him shirtless before, of course, but he figured out would be weirder without the right context.

"Fuck, it's hot in here," you whined quietly.

"I guess the power issue affects the A/C, huh," Eddie noticed.

"You think?" you scoffed, reaching up to unbutton the top of your shirt.

For some reason, he kinda liked when you were condescending like that; of course he loved it when you were sweet like usual, but when you got frustrated and sarcastic and looked at him like he was crazy... for whatever reason, it worked for him. And it was definitely working like never before when combined with your hasty efforts to open your shirt.

He expected you to stop after a couple buttons, but you just kept going, exposing more and more of your chest glistening with sweat. His eyes were glued to it, until you got low enough for him to see a glimpse of your bra, and he coughed as he turned his head quickly.

"Woah, hey, uh--" he stammered out awkwardly.

"Oh whatever, you've seen me in a bikini, it's the same thing," you rolled your eyes.

But it's not the same thing, because you were stripping, untucking the button-up from your tight skirt, fanning your flushed skin...

And he was tugging the crotch of his jeans down a bit when you weren't looking, trying to keep his oncoming boner from being too obvious. 

Leaving your shirt open, you sighed and sat down on the floor, splaying your legs out on the ground.  He could see how uncomfortable you were, and it made him press his lips together while he sighed through his nose.  Though he was a little afraid you weren’t in the mood for any friendly behavior as your frustration and stir-craziness increased, he walked across the elevator and sat down next to you.  “I was probably gonna flunk the test,” he decided.

“What?  No you weren’t,” you scoffed.  “You studied so hard!  I’m really proud of you, you know.”

“Just ‘cause we’re stuck in here doesn’t mean you should get all sappy with me—” he started.

“No— ‘cause we’re stuck in here I’m not gonna put up with you trying to be down on yourself,” you decided sternly with a little glare at him.  “You were gonna fucking ace it, I know you were.  You worked your ass off.  I know you wanted to act like you didn’t care, but you actually got your shit together and did it.”

“You… you helped me a lot,” he mumbled sheepishly.

“Please, I hardly did anything— mostly just kept you from getting too distracted,” you denied, blissfully unaware that he actually found you more distracting sometimes, but never minded it.  “Can you stop being a pussy and just admit you’re actually smart, and dedicated, and more than capable of nailing this?”

He blinked quickly and looked down into his lap, feeling his face warm up— not just from the heat.  How could you be so mean and nice at the same time?  

“And now it’s gonna go to waste, ‘cause of this godforsaken elevator,” you sighed, dropping your head back; a pessimistic end to a pep talk, but he couldn’t blame you.

"Think of it this way: it couldn't get any worse!" Eddie offered with a faux-upbeat tone.

Right then, the lights in the elevator flickered and turned off, plunging you both into darkness. "I fucking hate you," you announced after a short silence.

He heard a whirring sound from somewhere else in the shaft, and a dimmer orange lighting came on inside the elevator; some kind of emergency back-up generator thing, probably. It was enough to see decently well, especially as his eyes started to adjust, but still made it feel like you were both in an even more perilous situation.

“I didn’t sleep enough last night,” you admitted, “I might try to catch up on that.  Maybe if I can sleep this will go by faster…”

“I like that plan,” he decided, even though he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to do the same.  Eddie had a hard time keeping still and quiet, but he managed to do it so you could get your rest.

He suspected you had fallen asleep when your breathing seemed to slow down a bit— but he knew you had when you limply slumped to the side, your head gently landing on his shoulder.  This happened every once in a while, a sign of how comfortable you were with him. He supposed he should be thankful for it, but sometimes it just made him furious. Because what cruel punishment was this, to have you lay on him like this when he can't put his arm around you and kiss your head and tell you how perfect you are?

The half-boner he’d wound up with earlier when you unbuttoned your shirt had never really gone away, and it noticed your proximity with renewed interest.  Maybe it was just because he was so bored with literally nothing to do but think about you, but his mind kept coming up with all these fucked up ideas based on the eyeful he’d gotten.  

What if you’d taken off your bra as well and let him see the tits he’d been fantasizing about for longer than he cared to admit?  What if this had happened in winter instead and the elevator was brutally cold and you two had to hold your naked bodies together for warmth?  What if that guy on the phone said this thing was airtight and two only had an hour to live and you decided you wanted to go out with a bang, literally?  

He wondered if he’d be brave enough to tell you how he felt about you, if either or both of you only had an hour left.  For better or for worse, this elevator shaft had airflow, so you were more likely to die of boredom than anything.

He shifted slightly, stuck in a somewhat awkward position, but it didn't help much— though thankfully it didn't wake you up, either.  He just wished he could get some relief, somehow.

Obviously, he knew it was a bad idea. But the thing about his dick is it usually talked him into some pretty bad ideas…

He tested the waters with a whisper of your name, but you just kept breathing slowly— you were out cold. Maybe you were even more nervous for him than you'd let on, if you were that underslept.

Reaching up with his free hand, all he had to do was grip himself through his jeans to get some relief; he sighed through his nose, shutting his eyes.

His cock flexed impatiently as he unzipped the jeans as slowly as possible to avoid making too much sound. But god was it worth the wait— as soon as he slipped his hand into his boxers he had to bite his lip, it was so good just to get some attention for his poor, lonely dick.

This was far from the first time Eddie had jerked off to the thought of you. But he was sure he'd never done it while you were this close.

He did it once or twice in your bathroom while you were on the other side of the wall, that was probably the closest he'd come to this before. And that was chump change compared to this-- this was so risky it made his heart race and his hands shake with adrenaline, but it only made him more desperate for whatever reason.

He wouldn't have swiped his thumb through the precum at his slit if he had known how good it would feel— or maybe if he'd known how good it would feel, he would've been able to prepare himself for it. But the anxiety of getting caught had made him even more sensitive, so he hadn't really seen it coming, and when he did it he let out a little moan through his teeth that he couldn't stop.

You stirred again and he froze; when you lifted your head off of his shoulder, he hastily shoved himself back into his jeans, trying to cover up the open fly with the bottom of his shirt.

“Were you… jerking off?” you realized, and he felt sick with fear as his heart raced like never before.

“W-what?” he scoffed incredulously.  “I— are you crazy?”

“Ed,” you warned firmly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I— sorry—”

“Are you that bored?” you mocked with a snort, and he felt even more flushed; it made his cock flex under the mediocre covering of his shirt when you degraded him like that.

“N-no— well, yeah, I just— you put your head on me and I—”

“It was because of me?” you realized, and his mouth fell open.  He hadn’t realized that you hadn’t actually put that together yet; of course he’d ended up just digging himself deeper.

“W-well, uh— I mean, no, no I— well.  Kind of?”

“Kind of, as in…”

“Completely,” he blurted out.

You were quiet for a long time, and he couldn’t see your face well enough to even try to guess what you were thinking.  Although you probably could’ve given him a thousand guesses and he never would’ve guessed what you ended up saying: “You want some help with that?” you offered.

But before he could even answer— not that he really could, he was too busy having a short circuit in his brain— you were reaching for his lap.  And even if his mind was blown, his body knew to just lift his hands up and out of the way and let you do whatever you wanted to him.

You pulled up the bottom of his shirt and sighed a little when you saw his cock, still hard and leaking and curled up against his stomach.  You carefully wrapped your hand around it, and he swallowed thickly, wondering if he was dreaming or something— you were so… soft.

“Like this?” you asked gently, making his hips twitch up into your hand for a second.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, eyes glued to the way your hand looked wrapped around him.  If only the lights weren’t out, he wanted to see it even better.

He looked at your face, moving your hair a little to make sure he could see you, but from what he could tell your eyes were trained on his lap.

“Fuuuck,” he whispered when you stroked him a bit more confidently.  He wanted to shut his eyes from how good it felt, but he didn’t want to look away from a moment of this in case you, you know, came to your senses and stopped.

“S’really thick,” you said, under your breath, a little bit shyly.  He groaned and ran his hand over your back, trying not to do too much in case it startled you but also totally helpless to how badly he needed you.  “I wonder if I can…”

You trailed off, and before he could decide if he should ask what you were going to say, you 

As soon as you leaned down and put your mouth around him, his back arched and his legs kicked a bit.  “Fuck, baby,” he choked out, melting into the warm feeling of your lips, your tongue— god, he couldn’t believe you were doing this to him.  He actually had to fight the urge to tell you so, to admit how much he’d imagined this; he settled for whining out your name and running a hand over your hair encouragingly.  “S’fucking warm, oh my god—”

You hummed around him, sucking a bit harder, swirling your tongue around the tip; who the fuck taught you that?  It made his chest burn with some targetless jealousy even while it made his cock flex proudly. 

Your hand still gripping the base, you took him a little bit deeper, moaning a little bit once again while you did it.  No way you actually enjoyed this, right?

You pulled your head up a bit— he took his hand away quickly, not trying to hold you down or anything— and just when he wondered if you might stop, you dropped down lower so you could run your tongue up from the very bottom all the way to his leaking slit—

“Jesus,” he laughed thinly, “what are you doing to me, baby?”

“Whatever I wanna do,” you replied— if he was a little braver, he would’ve asked what made you want this, how long you wanted this— but he was more than content to let you do whatever you wanted, so far you had some pretty fucking good ideas.

Your head sank even a little bit lower, and he pushed his jeans down just a bit in case they were getting in your way.  Boy, was he glad he did.  “Fuck,” he gasped, watching in shock as you looked up at him while your tongue ran over his balls.  “Sorry, they’re, uh, kinda sweaty…”

“Even better,” you purred; what the fuck were you doing acting so dirty like that?

“Baby,” he laughed thinly, “is this some kind of claustrophobia-induced psychosis or something?  Who are you and what have you done with my prude best friend?”

“Prude?  That’s unfair,” you laughed.  “Just ‘cause I don’t advertise every dirty thought that goes through my mind doesn’t mean I’m not as much of a freak as you…”

“Freak is an understatement,” he sighed, struggling to keep his voice even when he was literally watching you lick all over his balls like this.  “You’re a proper fucking slut.”

You hummed proudly, eyes getting a little heavier— when you looked up at him like that, he was totally helpless.  “It’s slutty to wanna taste your best friend’s balls?”

“F-fuck, of course it is,” he whined, cock flexing in your hand again when you licked a stripe up between then.

“Well then yeah, guess I’m a slut,” you agreed. 

“G-god, I— I’m gonna—” he tried to warn you, but it happened so fast— it happened the second you started to gently suck on his balls, in fact.  What was he supposed to do when you did that?!  How could he not shoot cum all over his now-definitely-ruined shirt?

“Oh shit,” you giggled— his cock was still flexing and you were already mocking him.

“What— what the fuck,” he began, trying to catch his breath, “made you wanna do that?”

But you were already straddling his lap, pulling up your skirt to your waist.

“F-fuck, baby, I— are you seriously—?”

He cut himself off and whimpered when he got a good look at your panties, the cute lacy kind— and pretty fucking soaked already.

“I-I don’t have a condom,” he warned you, cursing himself inside for finally throwing out the one in his wallet thinking he would never end up needing it.

“Don’t care,” you sighed, pulling your panties aside and guiding his tip right up to your entrance.

“Fuck, that’s—”

He was gonna say it was insanely hot, but you hardly noticed; you were already sliding down onto him, taking him in one motion right to the base.

“Oh fuck!” he nearly shouted, gripping hard onto your thighs.  “F-fuck, you’re so tight, fuck…”

You started moving right away, grinding on top of him for a second before lifting your hips and bouncing up and down.  “Fuck,” you sighed, “so deep…”

Was it wrong that he loved the way you were basically just using him?  You hadn’t even let him finish his sentence, you didn’t ask if he could handle it right after coming— you just started riding him, and far be it from him to complain about that.

“Take this off,” he pleaded, tugging at your unbuttoned shirt and trying to push it off your shoulders.

You helped him get it off, and before you’d even tossed it off to the side he was reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.  The gods of bra clasps smiled down upon him that day, because he was sure he’d never gotten one open so quickly, and if there was any time he really needed it, it was now.

“Fuck,” he groaned when he got a good look at them— not good enough in this dim orange lighting, but it would do— and instantly got a hold of your chest.  You didn’t seem to mind the clammy hands, considering the way you whimpered a little and clenched inside around him.  “God, baby, your tits…”

As much as he’d been waiting ages for a chance to see you naked, he couldn’t deny you looked way too good with the skirt, stockings, and heels still on.  He could already tell this was going to give him a complex.

He ran a hand up your leg as you moved just to feel the silky nylon; god, he hoped you didn’t get fired for the unexplained extreme lateness, if not just for your sake then so that you would keep dressing like this every day.  “So pretty,” he sighed, wondering if you could see in the dark how totally in awe he was of you.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, in that way he’d always imagined you would in a time like this.  Your head fell back and he couldn’t help but reach up and grab your neck— not applying much pressure, just holding you there, just admiring how goddamn perfect his hand looked wrapped around you.  

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Eddie sighed, “fuck, look at you go.”

You smiled a little, he could see it even with your head tilted back like that, and it was just amazing seeing you so… free?  So relaxed and totally shameless, giving in to your pleasure.  But it wasn’t enough: he wanted to see you lose all your composure, he wanted to hear you scream his name, he wanted to make you shake and cry and beg— that was why he grabbed a tight hold of your hips and pulled you down onto him, bucking his hips up to meet you halfway.  It forced his cock even deeper and you yelped a little.

“Not too big for you, is it?” he taunted.

“No, fuck, s’perfect,” you moaned, your voice deep and rough and so fucking beautiful like this.  “Fuckin’ perfect, Ed, o-oh god—”

“Keep saying my name,” he ordered.

“Eddie,” you said, again, but this time all needy and cute; it just made him fuck you harder, biting down on his lip to muffle some of his own noises— he just wanted to hear you.  He pulled you down and hugged you close, keeping you still so he could fuck up into you exactly how he wanted; you moaned right by his ear, fuck it was too precious.  

“I’m already close again,” he admitted with a thin laugh.  “Fuck, look what you do to me.”

You whined louder, clenching on his cock— he seriously did not know how much more of this he could take.

“Wanted you so bad,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself, “wanted this for so long.  Wanted to fuck you— I wanna make you come, fuck, please, please come.”

He felt you nod against his shoulder as you gasped, and he shut his eyes tight, just focusing on his movements and trying his best not to speed up too much just to chase his own high.  He needed you to come more than he needed his own pleasure, even if everything in his body was screaming for a chance to come inside you. “So close,” you panted, “fuck, Eddie, don’t stop— please don’t stop— yes!”

The lights turning back on suddenly startled you both, making him freeze and look around (and squint a little from the brightness), but that was nothing compared to the shock of the doors opening.  Behind them was mostly just concrete, the space between floors, but up top was about two feet of the eighth level, where a crew of firefighters could be seen peering in.

“Are they alright?” someone from the building asked as Eddie scrambled to grab his jacket from the corner and cover you up with it.

“Yeah, looks like they’re doing just fine,” one of the men announced as they broke out in surprised laughter.

[lowkeyren]

—reject me not!

in which : when your sudden confession catches blade off guard, his response comes across as a rejection. though he realises his mistake, and tries his best to make things right. (...it gives the whole hq a headache)

slight humor, idiots in love, mutual pining, misunderstanding, you tease him w/o realizing (n he gets back at u hehe), reader is a stellaron hunter, stellaron hunters wingwomen!!!, art by @/kkuekkue on x. reblogs are appreciated! please enjoy <3

wc: 4.2k // hm secret santa? HOHOHO @mikashisus, rayray!! u might pull ur hair out at some parts idk :joy: happy reading n merry christmas my little elf xx

"i think i like you."

the words leave your mouth quicker than your brain can second-guess them. 

blade freezes mid-step, his back visibly stiffening. when he turns to face you, his sharp, cold eyes betray a fleeting glimmer of surprise, perhaps, or confusion —but it disappears as quickly as it came.

he stares at you, his eyes widening just slightly, the faintest crack in his carefully maintained composure.

but then, his lips part, and all he gives you is a single, flat response.

"i see."

two short, dismissive words. not a smile, not a frown —just two clipped words. you tilt your head, expecting some form of elaboration, but instead he just turns on his heel, his coat swishing behind him as he starts to walk away.

(what you don’t see is the way his hands curl into fists as he walks off, how his steps falter just around the corner, or the way he presses a hand against his chest to steady the sudden, overwhelming ache blooming there.)

…must this guy really be so blunt?!?!!

you sigh, a little laugh escaping despite your current situation. of all the possible responses you could’ve imagined, ‘i see’ definitely wasn’t one of them. you shake your head, a part of you wonders if elio is watching, silently laughing at your predicament right now.

it’s fine. really. you should’ve known better than to think he’d say anything different.

though the big problem now is, blade knows about your silly crush on him, so facing him in the future is going to be a total nightmare that you’re not ready to accept. you can already feel the embarrassment creeping up like it’s going to suffocate you.

“where's [name]?” 

blade steps into the base. silver wolf, tucked in the corner, engrossed in her console, raises a hand in greeting without looking up. blade nods in acknowledgment, before replying to kafka, "i went ahead of them," his voice sounds a little more strained than usual, before quickly turning to make a beeline for his room.

but kafka, ever perceptive, senses something’s off. she tilts her head with a smirk, "bladie, did something happen?"

he denies it with a quick shake of his head before slipping past her. having no other option, she resorts to… unconventional methods. 

with a flick of her wrist and a soft, almost melodic whisper, she purrs, "listen to me.”

the moment those familiar words hit his ears, a wave of calm washes over him, and against his will, he halts mid-step. "now tell me what happened, will you?"

he sighs and he rubs the back of his neck. “take your time, bladie.” after a long pause he speaks again, "[name] said they... they liked me."

kafka watches him closely, a grin slowly spreading across her face. "and then what happened, hmm?" she teases.

out of the corner of his eyes, he sees silver wolf perk up at his words, but he pays her no mind as his thoughts are too tangled in what he’s about to say next, the words barely scraping past his throat.

...

the next hour consists of him being ‘lectured’ by his fellow coworkers.

he tries to tune out the barrage of teasing, but something about  “bladie, that's not how you reciprocate,” to “ain’t no way bro fumbled that badly,” managed to stick with him, unfortunately. (he looks over to firefly standing to the side, but she only giggles and shakes her head at him.)

but really, how was he supposed to tell them that he panicked? that he was so stunned by your confession, so overwhelmed, that he could barely form a coherent sentence? that his awkward, dismissive reply wasn’t rejection, but a pathetic attempt to mask his own vulnerability?

the thought of you avoiding him, of thinking he doesn’t care, makes his chest ache with a pain he hadn't experienced for the past few centuries. 

blade makes a mental note to find you as soon as possible. he doesn’t know how to explain himself, not entirely; words have never been his strong suit, but somehow, some way, he’ll make it up to you.

later, you return to the base, your steps hesitant as you walk in. the moment you enter, the group falls silent, all eyes snapping to you. there’s an awkward stillness in the air, like they were caught in the middle of something. your gaze sweeps over the room, and it lands on blade. when you lock eyes with him, a flush creeps up your neck, and you quickly avert your gaze.

"excuse me!" you blurt out and almost sprint to your room.

...do they all know?! this has to be the most embarrassing day of your life.

you agreed to meet kafka at a bar near your current mission to discuss your next task. the magenta haired woman had mentioned it casually when you’d asked, cryptic as usual, only revealing that the task was important but leaving out certain key details —such as conveniently leaving out the part about blade being there too, of course.

(“bladie,” kafka’s voice took on a singsong lilt, her playful smile unmistakable as she glanced at him. “you’re going to use this chance to make it up to them, ‘kay?” 

blade only kept his eyes trained on the entrance, silently waiting for you to arrive.)

running late, your prior mission having dragged on longer than expected, you found yourself hurrying to the bar, weaving through the sparse but lingering foot traffic of the evening.

after what feels like hours, you finally make it to the bar. stepping in, your eyes scan the room for kafka, when suddenly, a man steps right into your path.

the man smiles warmly, though you could tell he’s had a few to drink tonight. his tone is friendly, with just a hint of flirtation as he strikes up a conversation, casually asking if you’d be interested in grabbing a drink sometime.

he’s polite, respectful even, and there’s nothing about him that feels overly forward or aggressive —just a man who’s trying his luck, that’s all. still, you can't help but feel a slight annoyance at the timing.

as you try to figure out a way to decline his invitation, you remain oblivious to blade’s gaze —specifically, how it's fixed on you, or rather, more pointedly on the back of the man’s neck.

“you’re going to snap his neck if you keep looking at him like that.” kafka’s voice cuts through the tension, her tone teasing as she watches the exchange from the side.

“i don’t like what he’s doing,” blade mutters, his voice low and filled with an edge that suggests far more than just mild annoyance.

kafka chuckles softly to herself, already knowing where this is headed. it’s not an outright confession of jealousy, of course —he would never admit to something as petty as that, and she knows better than to push him on this one. 

nevertheless, she still catches it, her lips curling into a knowing smile. even if blade would never call it jealousy, it’s enough to push him into doing something completely out of character —something he’ll never, ever do (until now).

kafka notices immediately. her eyes widen just a fraction before she sets down her wine glass with a graceful motion, amusement dancing in her eyes. and perhaps to make sure he doesn’t look too foolish, she decides to play along and help him act the part.

a sharp clang of glass hitting the table catches your attention. your brows knit in confusion; you glance over instinctively, your eyes meeting kafka's for a brief moment. her expression is unreadable, but the faint curve of her lips makes you wonder what’s really going on.

curiosity pulls your gaze lower, to the drunk figure slumped over at her table, seemingly drunk, his head resting heavily on his arm. the spilled drink pools on the floor beside him, glinting under the dim light. 

at first, you only catch a glimpse of dark, tousled hair, streaked faintly with deep crimson at the ends —so strikingly familiar it makes you pause. then, as your eyes trace over the sharp line of his jaw and the stiff set of his shoulders, realisation dawns on you. 

wait a second.

your jaw nearly drops as you piece it together. the man lying there, seemingly drunk out of his mind, is none other than the last person you would want to see right now.

blade.

your gaze darts between him and the polite man still standing awkwardly in front of you. blade, on the other hand, never lets his guard down, so this... state of his? unprecedented. 

apologetically, you offer a small smile to the man before rushing to blade’s side, urgency in every step as you push past the tables, heart hammering in your chest.

blade’s eyes subtly flicker over to you as you approach, and you can almost sense the slightest shift in his demeanor, the thought of you giving your time to someone else, especially someone so... ineffectual —grates at him.

he swallows the ugly feeling down his throat. perhaps he’s let this irked him more than it should. but it’s too late to back out now that you’re standing right beside him, the weight of your presence making the tension in his chest only more pronounced.

as if on cue, kafka’s voice breaks the silence, “as you can see, [name], our dear bladie here has gotten himself a bit... roughed up,” she says, casually catching the wine glass that had been teetering on the edge of the table.

her lips curl into a playful smile as she glances at blade, whose jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “drinking doesn’t seem to suit him, wouldn’t you agree?” kafka continues, her tone light but unmistakably amused. her eyes flicker between the two of you, as if she’s thoroughly enjoying the situation unraveling before her far more than she should.

you blink, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected scene. your worry only deepens as you shift your attention back to blade, who remains uncharacteristically silent, his head now resting on his arm as though he really had overindulged. 

“blade,” you say softly, your voice carrying just the slightest edge of concern. “what happened?” 

before he can answer —or before he’s forced to lie —kafka chuckles, waving a hand as if to dismiss your worry. 

“oh, nothing serious. he just got a little too carried away with his drink.” she leans back in her chair, a sly glint in her eye that you’re too preoccupied to notice. your gaze falls back to blade, his hair slightly tousled.

without thinking, you reach out, gently brushing a strand strand from his forehead. his eyes flutter open at the contact —those striking, sharp eyes you’ve always found yourself drawn to, dark yet you can’t bring yourself to look away from. 

you notice the faint redness creeping across his cheeks and the line of his jaw, down to his neck. his skin hot to the touch under your fingers. “you’re warm,” you murmur softly, assuming the alcohol is to blame.

if only you knew the warmth searing through him has nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with you. 

“ah,” kafka hums, pulling you out of your thoughts. “it seems something urgent has come up that needs my attention.” there’s an unmistakable glint of mischief in her eyes. “i’ll leave you two to it.”

you glance at her, startled. “wait, what about—?”

“don’t worry about it,” she interjects, already getting up from her seat. “the bill is already on my tab.” 

well, that wasn’t what you were about to ask anyway! 

a sly smile curls her lips, and she tilts her head ever so slightly. “hmm, it’s rare to see him like this. [name], you’ll take good care of him, won’t you?” her tone is light, but the underlying implication is clear, leaving you flustered as she turns on her heel, striding off, leaving the two of you alone.

blade leans heavily against you, his tall frame making it an awkward challenge to keep him upright as you guide him out of the bar. one arm is slung over your shoulder, while his other hangs haphazardly against his side.

his head is tilted forward, strands of his dark, crimson-tipped hair brushing against your cheek, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him —whether from his predicament or his proximity, you’re not sure.

you shift your grip, looping an arm around his waist for better support, and his body tenses slightly under your touch. for someone playing the part of drunk so convincingly, he’s strangely aware of your every movement, his hand tightening just faintly on your shoulder when you stumble over a crack in the pavement.

“blade,” you murmur under your breath, trying to shift his weight more evenly as you inch forward. “you’re not making this very easy, you know.”

casting a glance his way, you’re met with a low, almost lazy hum in response. his expression is nothing short of a hazy indifference, though you swear you catch a flicker of clarity in his eyes —a brief, focused intensity that seems out of place, before he looks away.

you can feel the heat of his breath against your temple as he wavers with every step. the night air is cool, but the warmth radiating from his body is undeniable, pressing against your side in a way that sends an unexpected shiver down your spine. the closeness between you feels almost intimate in a way that will surely have you screaming into your pillow later that night. 

as you continue down the empty street, blade’s mind races; this is his chance. he knows it. he should say something now, anything, to make it clear —to tell you how he feels. (and how it’s been eating at him for longer than he cares to admit.)

this is it, the moment he’s been waiting for, but all he can do is breathe in the scent of your skin and the warmth of your touch. the sensation is all too familiar, like the pounding in his chest —but this time, it’s not from the heat of battle.

just how much longer he has to deal with this utterly insufferable feeling?

it’s worse now, because as you navigate through the halls of the base, he’s beginning to wonder if this is what it means to care for someone —to be vulnerable. 

“here,” you say softly as you stop in front of the door to his room.

he doesn’t want this moment to end. 

you glance at him then, finally meeting his eyes, and the look in them knocks the breath from your lungs. they’re hazy, yes, but there's a sharpness beneath the mask of drunkenness, a quiet intensity that makes your heart beat a little faster.

you clear your throat, breaking the silence. "do you need anything else?"

"no," he answers, almost reluctantly. "i’ll be alright."

a twinge of disappointment surges through you. right… it was foolish to expect anything different. he’s already rejected you, and you can’t help but feel a bit ridiculous for thinking it would be any other way.

you stand there for a moment, the silence between you growing thicker with each passing second, before you force yourself to nod, your voice soft as you try to mask the heaviness in your chest.

“goodnight then."

just as you turn to leave, you feel a sudden pull on your hand, your wrist tugged back with surprising gentleness.

"wait," blade suddenly says, and this time, there's no mistaking the sincerity in it. "thank you.”

his bandaged hand rests over yours, and a soft breath escapes you; flustered, you open your mouth to respond, ready to brush it off.

"oh! It's no pro—"

but you’re cut off before you can finish. he raises your hand, pressing his lips to the back of your palm in a soft, lingering kiss.

"—blem..."

your voice falters slightly as a rush of warmth spreads through you. every nerve in your body seems to spark awake all at once, making you hyper-aware of the spot from where his lips brushed against your skin. you freeze, your breath caught in your throat, unable to do anything but stand there, your hand still resting in his.

then, as if nothing happened, he steps back into his room and shuts the door behind him, leaving you standing there, still processing the unexpected moment.

safe to say you got little to no sleep that night. you roll over, staring at the ceiling, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. it feels ridiculous, embarrassing even, how many times you've replayed that scene in your head every time you close your eyes.

you couldn’t help but smile to yourself like a fool. 

(“so bladie, how’d it go?” / “...”) 

you hadn’t even planned on leaving the base today, let alone stepping foot into the brightly lit chaos of an arcade, but silver wolf had insisted —no, nagged, until you caved. and somehow she’d managed to drag blade (of all people) along, her smug grin all too telling as she pushed the two of you together and skipped off to “go play some gachas”

now, you stand awkwardly by blade’s side, the flashing lights casting a colorful glow over his impassive face. it’s hard to ignore how out of place he looks, his dark coat, sunglasses, and the mask covering his lower face a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere. 

yet, somehow, he doesn’t seem to mind the sharp sounds of arcade machines beeping nor the kids screaming in excitement. he just stands there, hands in his pockets, watching you fumble with a stack of game tokens.

“you look thrilled,” you mutter, a sarcastic tone in your voice as you glance at him.  it’s strange, though —there’s something oddly endearing about the way he’s standing there, the dark lenses of his sunglasses reflecting a faint outline of your own face. you catch yourself staring for just a moment too long, wishing you could see beyond the lens, wishing you could read his eyes—

you shake the thought off, it’s all just wishful thinking.

behind the shield of his sunglasses, blade’s eyes tracked your every subtle movement, almost unconsciously. he caught the way your expression softened as you turned toward the claw machine, how your lips curved ever so slightly when your gaze settled on that… thing.

it was maddening, how effortlessly you held his focus, how even a trivial moment like this could stir something deep in him. he told himself it was nothing, but the tightening in his chest said otherwise. 

he wasn’t one to indulge in sentiment, yet something about the way you stared at that silly plush made him restless, made him want to do something about it, if only to keep that smile on your face a little longer.

would your smile grow brighter if that plush were in your hands? 

“let’s go.”

“to where…?” you asked, glancing back at him, the curiosity evident in your voice.

he didn’t answer immediately, but you felt the familiar tug at your hand once again, gentle and insistent, as his gaze slips toward the claw machine where you had been staring earlier.

it’s not hard to imagine the scene as a sweet little moment, with him focused on the claw machine, trying to win you a plush like a doting partner would. 

with a soft click, the claw tightens around the plush, and before you can react, it’s being lifted out of the pile, swinging toward the prize chute. you can't help but stare as he pulls the soft toy from the machine with a sense of quiet satisfaction.

(you pocket the rest of the tokens. guess he won’t be needing those…  for a first-timer, he sure got lucky —must be beginners' luck, huh?)

you blink, slightly impressed. “wow, you’re good at this,” you remark, unable to hide the surprise in your voice. 

without a word, he hands the plushie to you. 

you tilt your head slightly, a bit unsure. “for me...?”

“it's yours. take it." he looks to the side; suddenly thankful for the mask —if it weren't for that, you'd surely see the crimson tint creeping up his cheeks right now.

you hesitate for a second longer before reaching out to take it, your fingers brushing against his, a tingle of heat pulses through you, leaving your hand feeling strangely warm.

“th-thank you," you manage to spit out, and your eyes dart away, suddenly very aware of how close he is. surely, this isn’t good for your heart!

the twilight sky stretches wide, the clouds are heavy, and you’re looking oh so earnestly at him. his heart beats a little faster, louder now, as if his body knows exactly what he wants but refuses to let him act on it.

but then, he blinks —once, twice; snapping himself back to reality. he can feel the space between you growing smaller, your presence growing closer.

his eyelids flutter shut instinctively.

and then, the soft press of your lips against his cheek.

a soft sigh escapes him, and his eyes crack open. if you could see his expression right now, you'd catch the vulnerability that flashes in his gaze. he swears he can feel the warmth of your kiss in his very bones.

though not quite the kiss he imagined… it was something. (re: you got his hopes up)

the shock of your own actions hits you like a wave. you swallow thickly, “sorry —i'll go find silver wolf.” avoiding his gaze as you fumble with the tokens in your hand. "i… i’ll pass the extra tokens to her."

without waiting for a response, you turn and hurry off, your pulse pounding in your ears, praying that the ground would swallow you whole.

that night, you lay in bed, the plushie clutched tightly in your arms. the softness of it contrasts sharply with the rush of confusion filling your chest. 

why was he being so kind to you? after everything, after the way he rejected you just a few days ago, it made no sense. his actions felt contradictory.

you try to push the memory of the kiss out of your mind; impulsive decisions… often lead to mortifying outcomes. though when you glanced at him afterward, you could’ve sworn his ears were tinged with red, just peeking out from beneath his hair. nevermind, it’s probably your mind playing tricks on you.

blade, who’s as cold as the frost-kissed dusk, walks beside you through the lively festival, his dark coat a striking contrast to the vibrant reds and greens around you.

the faint scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider fills the air, mingling with the sound of distant carolers. he doesn’t say much, but there’s something about the way his gloved hand brushes yours, intentionally or not —that makes the chill in the air feel less biting.

you swallow, focusing on the festive stalls ahead, the decorations glittering in the night. “you don't have to stick around, you know. i can manage by myself.”

his steps slow just slightly, and he turns his head toward you, finally speaking. “you think i’d just leave you here?”

the words catch you off guard, and you fumble for a response. “i-i just meant—”

“relax.” he interrupts, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips; his hand grazing yours again. this time, his fingers linger for a moment longer, almost as if testing the waters, before retreating back into the safety of his pocket.

your cheeks flush, and you pretend to be deeply interested in a nearby stall selling hand-knit scarves. just then, his voice cuts through the festive hum. “last week… when you said you liked me,” he starts, and your breath catches.

you whirl back to face him, your heart pounding. “don’t worry about it! really, i—”

“i wasn’t rejecting you,” he says, with an unexpected gentleness in his gaze. “i like you too, [name].”

blade removes his coat, the fabric warm against the cold air as he drapes it around your shoulders, pulling you closer. you stumble, your hand instinctively pressing against his chest to catch your balance.

you look up at him, your breath quickening, as his face draws closer, his eyes locked on yours with that familiar intensity. you let your eyelids flutter shut, lips trembling, heart pounding in your chest as the space between you narrows.

but instead of the kiss you were anticipating, you feel the gentle warmth of his lips brush against your forehead.

your eyes snap open in confusion, only to meet his smirking face. oh... this asshole!

“what?" he teases, his tone deceptively casual. “you seem pretty eager,” his voice drops an octave, hand gently tilting your chin as he leans in just close enough for you to feel his breath against your skin.

you glare up at him, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. the way your lips quiver, unable to hold his gaze for long; the fact that he actually adores that flustered expression on your face... well, that’s when he realises. he’s too far gone.

what a dumbass lmfaoo

MASTERLIST.

[glxzsyy-r0xie]

The older sister

modern!sevika x fem! reader

summery: in which you sleep with your best friends older sister

Men DNI

Warnings: fingering, praising, Sevika's in her early 30's, Reader is 22, squiring, eating out, caught at the end (sort of) overstimulation, skin-to-skin, mutual pinning (if you squint). let me know if more

word count: 6.1K

time: 1 hour, 40 minutes

It was stereotypical; your best friend, who was bubbly, full of life, and a social butterfly had an older sister who was the complete opposite. Sevika was kept to herself, composed, and a little intimidating. 

For a while, the interactions between you two had been kept to a minimum; one-sided stolen glances when the door to her bedroom creaked open enough to see her working on a mechanical project or to see the girls that either laid in her bed or snuck out her window. Or nodding to each other in acknowledgment when you pass by each other or her letting you go first when you run into each other going to the kitchen or bathroom. All of which left a confusing burning feeling in your stomach. A part of you wished you knew the enigmatic women better. More than the girls she had in her room and gone the next day.

Especially when she effortlessly loomed over you with her height, or her deep even voice, or the way her muscles flexed when she physically teased her sister or when you would catch her working out in her room. God, something truly was wrong with you, Or maybe you just found her really, really, handsome. Definitely nothing more.

The first time you would verbally interact with her was when your best friend suddenly disappeared from your sights. You looked everywhere like a lost puppy before you eventually had to go to the last option that you’ve been purposely avoiding. You approached Sevika, who was on the couch, clearing your throat before speaking. “Do you know where your sister went? I can’t find her anywhere.”

She peered at you over her shoulder before shrugging, feeling a weird chill going down your spine. “Went out to the store to get a couple things. I thought she told you.” you would’ve thought so too, but instead you had to be eventually subjected to embarrassing yourself in front of your friend’s hot sister. 

You give a small nod. “No, she didn’t. But thanks,” you murmur before turning on your heels and making your way back to your best friend’s room.You could feel Sevika’s gaze lingering on your back as you walked away. Normally, she would brush it off and return to whatever she was doing, forcing thoughts of you aside.

But this time, she didn’t. Instead, she stood up and followed you upstairs.

She didn’t announce herself, careful not to startle you into an anxiety attack, but the steady, muted thud of her footsteps on the stairs was enough to let you know she was coming.

You had just sat on your best friend’s bed when you heard her footsteps. Your heartbeat quickened. You had just embarrassed yourself in front of her downstairs—you didn’t want to do it again.

Right on cue, Sevika appeared in the doorway, her broad, muscular frame nearly filling the narrow space. Her gaze settled on you, curled up in a small spot on the bed, a flicker of interest flashing in her gray eyes as she slowly took you in.

“Do you want something to drink?” she asked, her deep voice breaking the silence. Her eyes briefly shifted to the half-empty water bottle resting on the nightstand beside you.

You give a small shake of your head, offering a faint smile as you look up at her.

“I’m okay, but thank you,” you say softly, your voice gentle yet appreciative. You don’t want to be a bother, and despite the dryness in your throat, you convince yourself that you don’t need anything else. Your hands fidget slightly in your lap as you glance toward the half-empty water bottle beside you, silently hoping she doesn’t push the offer further.

Sevika let out a low hum before giving a slight nod, shifting to lean her shoulder against the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest.

For a moment, silence settled over the room. But it didn’t last long.

“You know…” she began, her voice dropping to a lower, almost unreadable tone. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

There was something in the way she said it—the weight of her words, the deliberate slowness—that sent a wave of nervous energy through you, making your stomach flip.

A flutter of nervous energy stirred in your stomach the moment she spoke, the deep timbre of her voice sending a shiver down your spine. The anticipation settled in your chest, making it harder to ignore the way your pulse quickened.

You swallowed, your fingers gripping the fabric of your clothes as you shifted slightly in your spot.

“What is it?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with curiosity and just a hint of apprehension.

She stepped into the room, the floorboards creaking under her weight, the sound cutting through the quiet. Sevika’s gaze remained locked onto you—steady, intense, almost predatory—as she slowly closed the distance. Your pulse pounded in your ears, each beat growing louder with every step she took.

“How old are you?”

The question caught you off guard. It wasn’t what you had been expecting, yet your heart continued its relentless rhythm against your ribs. Her sharp eyes drifted over you, tracing every detail, as if committing you to memory.

“Twenty-two years old,” only 10 years or so younger than her. you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart pounds violently against your ribcage, each beat echoing in your ears as Sevika’s piercing gaze roams over you. There’s an intensity in her expression, something unreadable yet deliberate, as if she’s committing every inch of you to memory.

You shift slightly under the weight of her stare, your fingers twitching at your sides. The air in the room suddenly feels heavier, charged with something you can’t quite place. You swallow hard, wondering what she’s thinking, what she’s searching for as her eyes slowly trace over you, taking in every little detail.

With a single nod, Sevika continued her slow approach, the floorboards creaking under her weight. 

She halted in front of you, her face looming above, staring down as if you were prey. Her large fingers gently grasped your chin.

“You’re so small..” she remarked, her fingers tracing along your jawline.

"I’m not”  you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Sevika’s voice was now low and calm, as if she wasn’t looming over you like an imposing wall of muscle, blocking the only way of escape.

Sevika’s gaze was now fixated on your face, her eyes drifting across every feature as if she was committing the sight to memory. You couldn’t help but squirm a little under her gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable as she silently studied you.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

The question took you off guard. It also made you nervous. Why was she suddenly asking about such personal things.

"I’m lesbian, so no," you said softly, your voice steady but gentle. You looked up at Sevika, meeting her gaze with a mix of resolve and vulnerability, hoping she would understand your truth.

At the revelation, Sevika tilted her head, her face completely neutral as she soaked in the new information. Though, you swore to have seen a flicker of interest in her grey eyes before she continued to scan you from above.

“Do you…have a girlfriend then?”

Gods, she’s relentless.

You shook your head slowly, feeling the weight of your response. "No, I don’t," you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of finality as you looked away, hoping she would understand.

“Why not?”

Sevika’s voice was soft yet firm, her eyes now drifting to your legs, silently examining the area. She’s getting more and more curious, finding out that you didn’t have a partner and, more importantly, you were also interested in women

"Just haven’t been asked out," you said, shrugging your shoulders casually. You tried to keep your tone light, but there was a subtle hint of longing in your voice, revealing more than you intended.

Sevika hummed, the corners of her lips tilting into a small smirk. But she didn’t respond, instead choosing to slowly scan your thighs, eyeing the spot in between your legs. 

“You know…”

She spoke once more, her tone was slightly different. Almost like it had an air of sultriness to it.

“I’ve noticed you around, from time to time…”

You nodded your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, I come over a lot," you said, your voice warm and familiar. As you spoke, you could feel the comfort of the place and your best friend, a sense of belonging that made your visits frequent and enjoyable.

“More than a lot.”

Sevika chuckled softly, stepping forward just a little bit more until her knees were now lightly pressing against your legs. You’re practically caged in by now. Her body was so close to yours, you could now see every muscle in her forearms tense up as she spoke.

“You come here often enough for it to be considered a second home.”

"Sorry if it bothers you," you muttered softly, your eyes glancing down as you spoke. You could feel a slight unease creeping in, hoping your presence wasn't an inconvenience.

Sevika chuckled again. “I don’t mind.” 

She suddenly reached up, and with unexpected gentleness on her part, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.  Her knuckles brushed against your cheek, a warm shiver running through you at her touch.

“You’re cute. Your little shyness around me is kinda endearing, honestly.”

You gulped slightly at her touch as you nodded, feeling a warmth spread from where her hand rested. The sensation made your heart pound loudly in your ears, each beat echoing the nervous excitement coursing through you.

“So small and fragile.”

Sevika mumbled as she ran a couple of fingers through your hair, her eyes now roaming across every detail on your face. 

“Compared to me, at least.”

Her voice was in a soft, almost teasing tone. It was strange to hear her speak this way. After a few moments of silent studying, Sevika spoke once more.

“You’re trembling.”

Your mouth was dry, and you could feel a flutter of anxiety in your stomach. You knew it was wrong for you to have a crush on your best friend's older sister, but God, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to her. 

Sevika leaned just the slightest bit forward until her face hovered a few mere inches from yours, just enough room for her to take in every bit of your expression. 

“You’re shaking like a leaf.” She teased, a smirk once again appearing on her face as she continued to gently brush her fingers through your hair. Her eyes scanned your features for a few moments before she spoke again.

“Your face is all red too…”

“Sorry,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You could feel a mix of embarrassment and uncertainty wash over you, wishing you could take back the words or somehow explain the feelings that had gotten tangled up in your heart.

“Shh.”

Sevika suddenly hushed you, her expression blank again as she brought her hand up to your face, the pads of her fingers gently stroking your burning hot cheek. Her touch was gentle, unexpected, and sent a shiver down your spine as she continued to caress your skin.

“No need to apologize. I like it, actually.”

You nodded your head softly, feeling the weight of the moment. The room seemed to close in around you, and you could almost hear the rapid beating of your heart. Your mind raced with thoughts, but all you could manage was that gentle nod, hoping it conveyed the emotions you couldn't put into words.

Sevika’s smirk widened a little before her hand slowly trailed down. Her touch was light, yet the strength and power beneath it was still evident as her fingers eventually came to a stop on the pulse point on your neck.

“Your heart is racing too.”

The room felt hot as the tension between you two rose, almost palpable in the air. Every glance seemed charged, and you could feel your cheeks flush. It was as if the world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in this moment, where unspoken words hung heavy in the space between. You could sense the electricity, making it hard to breathe, and you wondered if she felt it too.

Sevika tilted her head, her smirk shifting into a sly smile as she felt your pulse thump rapidly against her fingers. Her eyes darkened with lust, a dangerous edge appearing in them.

“You’re pretty excited, huh?” She mumbled, her voice low and slightly deep, an almost huskiness to it. She slowly applied more pressure on your throat, gently squeezing it, her thumb applying friction on your delicate skin.

You tilted your head upwards when she applied pressure to your throat, feeling a mix of vulnerability and anticipation. The warmth of her touch sent shivers down your spine, and your breath caught in your chest. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, every second stretching out as you locked eyes, the world outside disappearing entirely.

Sevika hummed, enjoying the way you tilted your head back at her touch, her smirk growing wider as her gaze flicked down to watch you.

“You’re such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

She praised, giving your throat another gentle squeeze, slowly moving a step closer so she’s now standing right in between your legs. Her thighs pressed against yours, her scent filling your nostrils and making your head spin.

it took everything in you to keep quiet as her thigh pressed up against yours since she was so much taller than you and the fact she squeezed your neck is turning you on more.

Sevika chuckled darkly from above, enjoying the way you looked from this angle. Your neck fully exposed to her, your eyes wide as she continued to tease you with her small squeezes.

“You like that, don’t you?”

She crooned softly, her voice deep and sultry. Her other hand, which was still on your thigh, slowly began rubbing the area just to tease you even further, her hand now roaming upwards and inwards.

You let out a closed mouthed whine as you tried to shut your legs around her thigh when you felt her hand but couldn't due to her thigh being in the way.

Sevika’s smirk turned into a small grin as you tried closing your legs, but her large frame was in the way. 

“Don’t do that~” She scolded in a light tone, the hand on your neck releasing to let you speak. 

“Keep them spread open for me.”

You slowly opened your legs for her as you laid down on the bed underneath you

A small approving hum left Sevika’s chest as you obeyed her command, laying down and spreading your legs. She leaned over you on the bed, her hands planted firmly on either side to keep herself up slightly. 

“Good girl.” She muttered, her eyes roamed all over your body again, a dark, hungry look flashing in them. “Gods, you’re beautiful.”

You saw the woman in Sevika’s room when her door cracked open. They will either lay down on her bed or sneak out the window. You didn’t want to be one of those stands

Sevika chuckled at your internal worries. She has noticed the look in your eyes for a while now, and she can already guess what you were thinking about. 

“You’re worried about being one of my ‘stands’, aren’t you?” She questioned, a small smile on her lips, amused by what she thought was your innocence.

You nodded your head. Of course you didn’t want to be used as a sex toy rather than something serious

Sevika chuckled again, shaking her head softly in amusement.

“You’re not like those other women to me, darling.” She assured you, slowly lowering herself so that she’s now laying on top of you in between your legs. Sevika’s much stronger physique enveloped you fully, her weight on top of you was firm, yet gentle.

“You’re…different.”

“My sweet little thing.”

Sevika whispered in your ear, letting her mouth slowly trail down to your neck, where she pressed a small, yet firm kiss against your skin. 

“You don’t know just how beautiful you are.” Another kiss.

“How sweet you are.” Another one, this time a bit lower.

“How good you are.” Another kiss, a bit lower this time, her tongue gently sweeping across the sensitive skin.

When you felt her tongue swipe against your sensitive skin you whined and arched your back off her bed

“We should move this to your room” you whined out since the idea of doing anything on your best friend’s bed is unsettling 

Sevika chuckled again, enjoying the way you writhed beneath her. She pulled away slightly to look at your face, an amused look in her eyes.

“Oh, you’re shy?” She teased, giving your hip a small squeeze. “You need me to carry you or are you okay?”

The idea of being carried by someone you had a crush on made you shy away slightly but it didn’t stop you from wanting to be carried. “Carry me”

She smiled, letting her hands slide under your body before she lifted you up effortlessly, your legs wrapping around her waist and your arms slung around her shoulders. Sevika’s arms looped under your behind, securing you against her as she began to carry you through the small apartment. 

“You’re so light…” She muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. “How do you weigh less than a damn pillow?”

You squeezed your legs around her waist. You weren't sure why her voice turns you on so much but it did. 

Sevika’s smirk returned at your reaction, feeling your thighs tighten against her hips. She chuckled huskily, feeling her own body begin to grow hot from your little action.

“You’re a little eager, huh?” She teased again. 

Soon enough, she brought you both into her room, kicking the door open with ease.

You looked around her room. It has some parts to whatever vehicle she was working on, speakers, and decorations of posters all over her room

Sevika turned around once in the room and closed the door behind her before walking towards the edge of the bed and slowly sat you down, your back against the headrest as you take in the room.

“Like it?” She questioned with a smirk, standing in between your legs as she looked down at you against her pillows.

You laid down on her bed and looked up at her with big doe eyes as you nodded 

“Good.” 

She hummed as she watched you lay back against the bed, taking a moment to appreciate your little form in her bed. For a second, Sevika thought she was dreaming, you looked so delicate and innocent. She’d look so gorgeous underneath her.

“You look good in my bed.”

Her compliment had you whining in need

Sevika chuckled as you whined, feeling her heart throb at the cute sound. You were just too adorable, too perfect.

“Gods..” She mumbled, her eyes roaming all over you again, “This is so wrong, and yet I can’t stop…”

“Who cares? I need you” you whined out as your shyness melted away and the lack of shame settled in

Sevika’s eyes darkened again at your whine, her control slowly slipping away at your need. She could feel the heat in her body growing hotter as she slowly loomed over you, her hands on either side of your head.

“You need me, huh?” She repeated, her voice deep again, a hint of huskiness and lust in them.

Sevika smirked, shaking her head as her face got closer to yours, stopping once her lips were only a couple of inches from your face.

“God, you’re too damn cute, you know that?” She mumbled, her eyes scanning over your features.

“I’m gonna mess you up so badly.”

“Then you better hurry before your sister comes home” you said trying to tempt her to move faster

Sevika chuckled again, her mind reeling at the thought of her sister interrupting. She was too used to having the place to her most of the time and didn’t really think of the possible scenario, until you reminded her.

“You’re right.” She agreed with a short huff. “Can’t have her ruin our fun.”

You rubbed your thighs together as you thought about the type of fun stuff she was going to do to you

Sevika’s eyes darkened as her gaze instantly shifted down to your thighs again as you rubbed them together. It was hard to contain herself at this point, seeing you like this, in her bed, looking so needy and desperate. 

“Impatient, aren’t you?” She teased slowly.

Sevika smirked again. 

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll take good care of you.” She reassured you.

As she spoke, Sevika slowly moved one of her hands, her fingers roaming down your body and to your thighs. The same area you were just rubbing together.

Your legs twitched and you whined at the feel of her fingers lightly running over the softness of your skin. 

Sevika hummed in satisfaction as she felt you whine. 

“Such pretty sounds you make, just for me.” She mumbled, her fingers rubbing the skin of your thighs before slowly massaging the area between your legs.

As you whined your legs opened for her as your brain shut down with desire and let your body take control.  

Sevika chuckled. The reaction of your body was just too satisfying to her. 

“Such a good girl, you’re getting so needy for me, huh?” She teased, her fingers dancing around your heated core.

You clearly wanted your underwear and pants off so you shimmed your hips for her to get the hint. 

Sevika smirked again, feeling you wiggle your hips against her touch, your pants and underwear hindering her access.

“Want me to take them off for you, little one?” She muttered with darkened eyes.

Without further question, Sevika moved both her hands down to the waistband of your pants and began to slowly pull them down your legs, making sure to graze her fingers gently across your skin. 

She let out a small shaky exhale as she pulled your pants completely off, leaving you in your underwear in front of her, looking so beautiful.

You pulled your own underwear off yourself since sevika was going too slow for your liking. 

Sevika’s eyes widened slightly with surprise and pleasure as you impatiently threw your underwear away, you looked so desperate for her at that moment. 

“My, my, you really are needy, huh?” She teased again, letting her hands run up and down your bare legs.

“You’re driving me insane, you know that, sweetie?” Sevika muttered, using her hands to slowly spread your legs apart before settling in between them again.

“So pretty and desperate for me.” She whispered, her gaze roaming over your body from her new angle.

Sevika’s eyes darkened further at the view of you laying down beneath her, your legs spread open like that as she hovered on top of you. She could already feel her own body heating up from this alone.

“Gods, you look so good like this, baby.”

“Please touch me”  you said as you threw your shirt and bra off

Sevika’s eyes widened again, seeing you throw your last item of clothing away. 

“Impatient, aren’t you?” She repeated, her gaze slowly roaming over your naked body, taking in every dip and curve. 

“You want me to touch you, huh?” Sevika’s voice was low, almost like a growl as she began leaning over you.

You nodded your head. With your confirmation, Sevika’s hands slowly roamed over your body, starting from your hips before gently wandering up towards your chest and over your breast. 

“You’re just so beautiful, baby. So perfect for me.” She whispered, her thumb running over your sensitive bud.

She ran her finger over your nipple causing you to squirm under her.

Sevika chuckled huskily at your reaction, watching you writhe and moan beneath her as she touched you. 

“So sensitive…” She mumbled to herself, before using her other hand to give your other bud the same treatment.

You started to moan as she started play with both of your tits at the same time

Sevika smiled, the sound of your moans driving her crazy. She loved seeing you like this beneath her, she wanted to see more of it. 

“You like that?” She whispered, still using her hands to rub and gently pinch your sensitive buds.

You were at lost for words so all you did was nod your head and whine out

Sevika hummed in satisfaction, seeing you become more and more desperate from her touch. 

“Such a good girl, moaning for me like that, huh?” She teased. 

As she spoke, Sevika slowly moved one of her hands down, gently gliding over your skin and towards your core.

Sevika was watching your facial expression closely as her hand slowly wandered down your stomach. She could feel how warm your body was getting and she was eager to find out how wet you already were for her. 

“You’re so beautiful like this, all hot and needy, laying there, just for me.”

Feeling embarrassed that you were the only one undressed you reached behind her and quickly threw off her shirt and threw her sports bra over her head. 

Sevika chuckled at your impatience before, letting you throw her shirt off. Once her bra was removed, she settled back into her place on top of you, her body pressing against yours. 

“Are you aching for me, little one?” She mumbled, her mouth hovering just over your ear.

“really bad” you confessed as you ached down there 

Sevika smirked at your confession, hearing how desperate you were for her. 

“Good, I want you to ache for me, I want you to crave me.” She whispered, her mouth still against your ear. 

“Do you think you’re ready for me, baby?” Sevika’s hand was now ghosting over your sensitive core.

With a nod of your head Sevika hummed, slowly circling her finger around your core, teasing you. 

“Just a little more, yeah?” She teased, enjoying the way your face scrunched up at the anticipation. 

“And you’ll be all mine, won’t you?” Sevika’s voice was deep again, as her finger slowly parted your sensitive lips.

“Yes, i’ll be all yours” you choked out between the desperate moans that slipped past your pretty, glossy lips 

Sevika’s eyes darkened again at your words, her possessive side rearing, hearing you claim yourself as hers. 

“That’s right, you’re all mine. Say it again, baby.” She said huskily in your ear before she slid her finger into your core.

You gasp as she slid her fingers into you causing you to grab her broad shoulders and arch your back.

Sevika’’s eyes widened slightly at your reaction to her finger, watching you arch your back, all while your hands gripped onto her shoulders. 

“Fuuuck” She mumbled, feeling her own body getting hotter from the sight of you. 

“Say it for me, baby… say you’re mine…” Sevika repeated as her thumb began rubbing against your sensitive bud

“I’m yours” you spoke breathlessly 

Sevika’s breath hitched at your words again, hearing you confirm that you were hers, just like she had asked. It drove her crazy, making her need you more and more. 

“That’s right, baby, you’re mine. All mine.” She mumbled in your ear, adding another finger into your core, starting to slowly move them.

The stretch of her juicy big fingers were too much so you started to scratch at her back to keep stable

Sevika’s breath hitched again, feeling your nails against her back, scratching her skin. She loved to see and feel you mark her body like that, she found it incredibly hot. 

“That’s it, go on, scratch me up…” She encouraged, her fingers slowly moving faster inside you, curling against your sensitive spot.

“Shittt” you moaned out when her fingers started to slowly move faster and touching every sensitive spot you had.

Sevika smiled against your ear, loving the sounds coming out of you. 

“That’s it baby, moan for me…be noisy for me.” She encouraged, as her fingers continued to pump into you, the speed increasing more.

“Such pretty sounds, you’re being so good for me, baby.” Sevika mumbled in your ear, feeling and hearing just how much you were enjoying her. 

The sounds of your moans and the wetness of your core was driving her crazy. 

“You’re so wet for me, baby, I can tell you’re close…”

With a nod of your head you had let her know that you were about to cum 

With your affirmation, Sevika’s fingers began pumping faster inside you. 

“Go on, go ahead and go over the edge for me, baby…” She whispered slowly into your ear.

You had squirted all over her fingers with a high pitch moan of her name

Sevika chuckled into your ear, feeling you come undone, listening to you moan her name. 

“That’s it… such a good girl.” She praised as her fingers slowed, helping you ride out your orgasm.

you leaned back onto her bed as you were breathing heavily and slighting whining as she helped you ride out your orgasm

Sevika watched you closely, taking in the sight of you with your head thrown back and your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. 

“You did so good, baby.” She muttered, removing her fingers, letting her gaze roam over your body.

After taking a minute or two you finally caught your breath as you nodded at her praise

Sevika hummed in approval, seeing how breathless you looked, so worn out already after just coming undone. 

“You look good like this.” She said, running her hand over your chest and stomach, loving the feel of your hot skin against her palm.

“I’m tired” the aftermath of your fun activities weighed on you a tiny bit 

Sevika chuckled as you muttered that you were tired. 

“Of course you are, I’ve worn you out already.” She teased, leaning in slightly to press a light kiss to your neck.

At her words you nodded your head

Sevika smiled against your neck as she heard you confirm that you were tired. She could tell that you were already so worn out, she had only made you come once and she was already tired. 

“You poor thing, worn out already?” She teased once more.

Sevika leaned back slightly so she could see your face better and chuckled at your current state. 

“I haven’t even had my fun yet and you’re already worn out, baby.” She mumbled, enjoying seeing you like this.

Her words had made you wetter despite your groaned about being tired

Sevika chuckled again, watching you grow even more tired and whiny just from the thought of her getting her own pleasure now. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll try not to tire you out even more.” She mumbled, giving your skin another quick kiss.

You had nodded at her reassurance 

Sevika smirked slightly, watching your head nod so lethargically.

“You’ll try to keep your eyes open for me, huh, baby?” She teased, knowing that you were still tired.

You promised to keep your eyes opened for her.

Sevika hummed, seeing you try your best to stay awake and give her some attention. 

“Good girl. Keep those pretty eyes open for me, yeah?” She instructed, as she began moving down your body.

Sevika made her way down your body until she was between your legs, her mouth hovering over your sensitive core. 

“You still feeling sensitive, baby?” She mumbled against your skin, gently rubbing your inner thigh.

Your legs jerked slightly as she gently rubbed the skin of your inner thigh 

Sevika hummed again, seeing how sensitive you were from your answer. 

“Let’s see if I can make you even more sensitive, huh?” She mumbled, before giving your sensitive mound a few tentative licks.

Your hands had gripped onto her hair unexpectedly as you let out a loud yelp 

Sevika hummed against your skin in response to your hand grabbing her hair. 

“Sensitive there, huh?” She teased, before moving her tongue, starting to focus on your sensitive bud.

Your grip tightened on her hair as you mewled as a response 

Sevika chuckled huskily at your reaction, loving the sound and feeling of you grabbing onto her hair, the slight tug at her scalp was driving her crazy. 

“That’s it, baby, go on, give me more.” She encouraged, as her tongue continued to flick over your bud.

the sounds coming from you are downright pornographic as she continued to suck on your clit

Sevika smiled against your skin, feeling that the sounds coming from you were getting louder. 

“That’s it baby, let me hear how much you’re enjoying this.” She mumbled, before taking your bud into her mouth, suckling softly at it.

Sevika continued to tease and suck at your little bud, loving the sounds coming from you. 

“You sound so beautiful, baby. Such pretty moans, do you know that?” She mumbled, her hot breath against your skin.

“ohmygod, ‘vika-“ you said with a high pitched whine

Sevika chuckled, loving the way you were trying to speak, but that she could hardly make out what you were saying, her mouth still busy with your bud. 

“That’s it, baby, I want to hear how good I make you feel, go on, say my name again for me, pretty girl.” She muttered.

Sevika continued teasing your sensitive bud, loving the way you babbled, feeling that you were already close to the edge. She looked up at you, watching the expression on your face. 

“You're going to cum for me again, baby?” She mumbled, her mouth still against you.

With you being overstimulated all you could do was nod your head

“Come on then, baby, be good for me, cum for me one more time.” Sevika encouraged, as her tongue started flicking faster against your bud, as well as her hands grabbing your hip to bring you in closer.

You gripped her hair so hard that your knuckles turned white, not like she cared anyways. You’re legs shook violently as your back wanted to arch but couldn't due to the fact that sevika was holding down your waist

Sevika felt you grip her hair and watched your thighs shake and your back arch as you came undone, her hands holding your hips to keep you in place. 

“That’s it, pretty girl, come for me just like that.” She mumbled against your skin, keeping her tongue moving against you.

Sevika groaned watching and feeling you shake, your loud, high-pitched moan causing the heat between her thighs to throb. 

She continued to lap at you, letting you ride out your orgasm until you started whining and began feeling oversensitive. 

“That’s it, baby, you did so well.” She mumbled against you.

Sevika’s hand went from your hip to caress your stomach, trying to soothe you slightly as you try to catch your breath from your second orgasm. 

She shifted up, so she was now eye-level with you and chuckled as she watched you whine and breathe heavily, tired out from your two orgasms. 

“You look so beautiful when you’re this worn-out for me.” She mumbled.

You pulled her closer to you and got her to lay on top of you 

“Im tired” you said as you repeated the phrase from a couple minutes ago 

Sevika chuckled as you pulled her up, so she was laying down on top of you, feeling how clingy you were in your tired state. 

She shifted slightly, so she was more comfortable while her head rested slightly against your chest, listening to your heartbeat. 

“I know, baby, I know you’re tired. Just rest, I’ve got you.” She mumbled, as her arms wrapped around you and began stroking your skin gently.

Sevika smiled as you grew quiet and still, and felt your body relax, signifying that you had finally drifted off. 

She stayed still for a moment, feeling the weight of you against her, as well as the sound of your steady breathing. Sevika closed her eyes, nuzzling into your chest slightly. 

“Sweet dreams, baby.” She muttered quietly.

After maybe an hour and a half later you were woken up to a knock on Sevika’s door. You turned your head to the door and watched as your best friend looked between you and Sevika. You, in her older sister's bed, naked, skin-to-skin contact. When she finally snapped out of her shocked state she yelled

“What the fuck

[sakurapika]

A (possibly) helpful guide to the Nikki-verse for Infinity Nikki Players

❄️Updated December 28th

Although it’s not at all necessary to know the lore of the previous games (Love Nikki, Shining Nikki), here is some info that you might benefit from if you’re joining the fandom with Infinity Nikki!

❄️General Info:

Love Nikki, Shining Nikki, and Infinity Nikki are all stand-alone games with self-contained stories, but they have some commonalities that I will get into later.

Love Nikki (LN) has a 2D art style, and is where many of us "veteran" players began our journey. Shining Nikki (SN) has both 2D and 3D art. Both of these games are stunning, so check them out!

Before Love Nikki, there were two other dress-up games in this series that did not involve being transported into a magical world. They were called NikkiUp2U (released 2012) and Hello Nikki (released around 2016). These games are more obscure, with the latter currently only being available in China, so not much is known about them to international fans.

The developers of the game are Chinese, so expect to get a lot of goodies around Lunar New Year and other major Chinese holidays!

According to Hello Nikki, our main character is around 19 years old. In Shining Nikki, she talks about how she used to go to college before getting transported to Miraland. Her birthday is December 6, which is why Infinity Nikki came out last week and why we got a free outfit (we’ll get a new one every year!)

Nikki's Chinese name is Nuan Nuan, how cute!

Momo claims he’s not a cat, but a member of the “Momo Clan” (LN). He was a little annoying in Love Nikki, but he’s more endearing in later games.

Nikki and Momo are the only recurring characters in the franchise.

The biggest advice I can give as a veteran is: Don't bother with trying to make a visually cohesive outfit for styling battles unless you have a lot of clothing. We've all tried it. It won't work. For now, just layer on everything that has high stats. You're always free to wear your fashionable outfits during regular gameplay, and "glow up" your favorite clothes when you have enough resources, so that you can make better outfits for later battles.

I've seen a lot of people in other places asking about whether the Nikki games will have more androgynous or masculine clothing, and they probably will! It took a while for these clothes to appear in LN and SN, but there are definitely several options out there, from ouji fashion to streetwear to military-style outfits. Read about the seven nations below to find out more.

A lot of people also seem curious about representation for people of color. Unfortunately, the options can be quite limited, as it took a while for textured hair options to appear for players in Love Nikki, and I'm not quite sure about the situation in Shining Nikki. Different cultures are represented in Miraland (as explained below) but they still have their limitations. With Infinity Nikki being more oriented towards an international fanbase than previous games, though, perhaps the developers will be encouraged to branch out more.

❄️Worldbuilding

The world that Nikki has been transported into is called Miraland.

Miraland is composed of seven nations, each with their own distinct fashion style. That means that if you do not like the style of clothes we’ve been seeing so far in Infinity Nikki, do not worry! They’ll have everything eventually.

For some reason, they changed the names of the countries in Infinity Nikki, and I’m not sure why (I’m going to keep mixing them up…). Below, I’ve listed their LN/SN names first, and their Infinity Nikki names second.

The seven nations are:

🎀Lilith/Ninir/Heartcraft Kingdom: In the older games, it was known mostly for fairytale-inspired clothing and lolita fashion, with the occasional “pastoral” suit. It looks like Heartcraft Kingdom in Infinity Nikki has been leaning more into the pastoral aesthetic, but Nonoy’s outfit seems to be in the lolita style. Also, the suits we have been crafting so far for catching bugs and petting the animals is at least lolita-inspired. (People who wear lolita fashion, please correct me if I’m wrong, but I think the Chinese version of this fashion is a lot more loose with the rules than the Japanese version I am more familiar with). This kingdom is always the first to be introduced in these games. Expect drama to follow whenever we get introduced to the royal family of this kingdom…it always happens. Nikki's first friend is always from this kingdom--we started with Bobo in Love Nikki, then Joy in Shining Nikki, and now Nonoy in Infinity Nikki.

🐉Cloud Empire/Lanling Empire: Known for traditional and modern Asian fashion. A vast majority of the fashions are going to be inspired by Chinese fashion, so if you’re a fan of period dramas or xianxia, you’re in luck! Aside from hanfu and qipao, they also usually have some representation of other East Asian cultures, featuring several kimono and the occasional hanbok. (Due to some controversies in Shining Nikki relating to conflicts between China and Korea, however, I’m not sure if the developers will continue to add hanbok in future games). Love Nikki also included some outfits for Chinese ethnic minorities like the Miao, and Vietnamese ao dai if I remember correctly. All games also have at least one Peking Opera costume—it’s like an industry staple. Overall, Cloud Empire is usually the second kingdom to be introduced in the game, so I’m sure we’ll see it pretty soon. Maybe we’ll go along with Tan Youyou, depending on how the story will go.

👠Apple Federation/Starhail Federation: Known for streetwear, high fashion, and casual clothing (like what you’d wear on an average day). I think Dada and Bebe’s outfits would be classified as Apple, even though they live in Heartcraft. Unlike the rural towns we have seen so far, Apple tends to be a very urban, city-based environment, filled with spies and shady businessmen. Nikki's girlfriend, Kimi (from Love Nikki), is also from here.

👑Pigeon Kingdom/Twinmoon Kingdom: Known for European fashions, including fairy costumes, witch/sorcerer outfits, Rococo dresses (with long skirts, compared to the lolita style in Lilith/Ninir/Heartcraft), and anything else you’d expect to see in a Western fantasy or period drama. Funnily enough, there is always at least one scene in the Pigeon Kingdom that has to do with a cathedral, so expect some fashions with gothic and Catholic-inspired imagery as well. Some of the inhabitants who live there are elves and fairies, like Timis. Although most of the ability outfits we have so far look like they're from Lilith/Ninir/Heartcraft, the "purification" outfit strikes me as something more typical of Pigeon.

⚔️North Kingdom/Empire of Light: A cold country best known for winter clothing—heavy scarves, overcoats, and hats—as well as military attire. There is also at least one "ice queen" style suit in every game. If I recall correctly, this kingdom has been having civil wars since Love Nikki, so expect a lot of action in this area. I suspect that Bettina is from here, but I'm not sure yet.

🐪Wasteland/Terra Alliance: The original name of this country sparked a lot of controversy, so I'm glad that they have changed it. This kingdom usually has desert-themed clothing, ancient Greek/Egyptian clothing, clothing inspired by nature, bohemian clothing, South, and Southeast Asian clothing (the cultural representation isn’t always the best, unfortunately…but I am optimistic that Shining Nikki and Infinity Nikki are more culturally sensitive than Love Nikki).

🤖Ruin Island/Whaleport: A mysterious island that features “futuristic” or sci-fi inspired clothing. In previous games, we have seen medical doctors with dubious legitimacy, scientists who experiment on themselves (?) and androids, so I’m curious to see who we’ll meet this time. Many players from the previous games who liked this style have felt that the developers often neglect this kingdom, unfortunately.

❄️Story and gameplay advice

Without spoiling the older games, I can say that, generally...

Most of the story is based on conflicts between different characters and sometimes different kingdoms. These problems, as mentioned before, are solved through styling battles.

Infinity Nikki seems to be going for a cozier vibe. However, both of its predecessors have sometimes gone into dark territories, featuring themes of war, violence, and betrayal. (I may or may not have cried over the death of a certain someone in Love Nikki...)

Therefore, dramatic things could very well happen in Infinity Nikki. I'm not saying that it can't be your comfort game if that is what you are hoping for, as the other games can still also be light, funny, and cozy. I just want to warn more sensitive players who might not be expecting it from a dress-up game.

When I first wrote this guide, I initially thought that the miracle outfits were like the "lifetime suits" of previous games, where crafting them was optional and not necessary to progress through the story. However, this seems not to be the case. Nevertheless, take your time while crafting them--there's no need to rush.

I'm not sure how f2p-friendly Infinity Nikki will be, but I haven't spent anything on either of the other games and I've been able to buy many of the suits I wanted. Just make sure that you budget accordingly and remember that if you want one suit but can't afford it at the time, another suit with a similar aesthetic might come out in the future. Also banners can re-run!

Keep an eye out for redeem codes! These are often posted by the game's social media, and you can get a lot of free stuff.

The fan-favorite kingdoms are usually Lilith/Ninir (Heartcraft) and Cloud (Lanling), followed by Pigeon (Twinmoon) and Apple (Starhail). The other three tend to get neglected, so if you like the sound of those the most, I'm sorry... :(

The last two sections include speculation, trivia, and an explanation of some inside jokes from the other games. Feel free to skip them if needed!

❄️Continuity and Fandom References to Other Nikki Games

Like I said earlier, the Nikki games can all work as standalone games, and the only returning characters are Nikki and Momo.

However, I've added this section to discuss possible theories and connections, as well as catch others up to speed on some of the inside jokes and characters that we Nikki veterans like to talk about.

If you keep hearing names like "Bobo," "Lunar," "Kimi," and "Nidhogg," these are characters from Love Nikki.

Bobo and Lunar are some of the first characters we met in LN. Kimi is the closest character we have to a canon love interest for Nikki. All of them are fan-favorites, so we're hoping to see any references to them in Infinity Nikki as well.

I can't say much about the very controversial and very popular Nidhogg without spoiling LN, but at least you now know where the name is from.

In Love Nikki, there is a "blood curse" that prevents people from using violence. Therefore, people often resolve conflicts by entering styling battles and destroying each other with the power of a good outfit.

Never ask a Love Nikki player what happened in Chapter 15.

Shining Nikki takes place roughly 700 years before Love Nikki, where there is no blood curse (which means certain people have managed to commit certain crimes...). Several SN characters are the ancestors of, or otherwise related to, LN characters.

Nikki veterans often like to make references to Ashley, Lilith (the person), Joy, and Qin Yi. These are all Shining Nikki characters.

So far, we haven't seen such a connection between old games and Infinity Nikki, so a lot of people suspect that this might be an alternate universe. When more about this version of Miraland is known, I might make another post.

❄️My predictions for future updates

Every time we enter a new country in Miraland, we will have new ability outfits to craft to fit the style of the new setting. This is because most of the outfits we have so far look like Lilith/Ninir suits in previous games, with very few influences from other nations.

The next country to be introduced will most likely be Lanling. I originally thought that they'd let us visit Lanling in time for Lunar New Year, but with the scope of the story, I think it may take some more time before that.

The next big update will be around Lunar New Year, where they'll probably hold some five-star banners, give free diamonds as a login event, and make a new short story, if they celebrate the same way as in Shining Nikki. They're probably also going to give us another free suit. (I hope it's Legend of the White Snake themed, since next year is Year of the Snake!)

Then, we'll probably see the equivalent of the Apple Federation, followed by Pigeon Kingdom.

We will get a new version of this stunning dress. It's called the Star Sea and has shown up in every game so far. I'm actually surprised we haven't heard about it in Infinity Nikki yet.

Please let me know if this guide has been useful, and if there's other parts of the games you'd like me to cover!