── mdni sexual content ; headcanons on how the boys would act with you (afab!reader) when you have a praise kink. inclusive of: praise (obv), pet name usage, dirty talk, teasing, general foreplay, vaginal sex, overstimulation.
an : this was a request i put off a liiittle bit bc i had to think of how i wanted to approach the prompt, but! it was super superrrr fun, and i maybe wrote a little bit more for each of the guys than i intended hehe <3
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KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS
ʀᴀꜰᴀʏᴇʟ
praise from rafayel is raw.
undeniably, during the day, there's a little part of him that would be a little shit about it—tease you to wit's end, preying on your little praise kink like it's a shiny little pearl he's found for him to play with. good girl~ here, pretty girl~ there… there'll be a little sing-songy tone to his voice, a teasing lilt, and sometimes it's more than you can take—sometimes you'll snap out of embarrassment, sometimes you'll maybe shove him away, sometimes all you can do is puff your cheeks up and do a little hmph. but really, it doesn't work out very much—"you're such a cutie, miss bodyguard."
but then there's a little switch that flips when the both of you are alone.
because the love that he has for you is overwhelming.
you're more than just a pretty girl, more than just a good girl, more than just the teasing little praises he's been singing all day just to rouse a reaction from you.
you're the love of his life. you're perfect to him.
and he's pounding into you as you writhe and moan beneath him, his hair clinging to his forehead, lips parted in heavy pants… his eyes are heavy-lidded with desire, but there's nothing more obvious in those pretty pretty magenta eyes of his— than how much he truly treasures you. his voice is breathless when he speaks, he doesn't stop the movement of his hips, so lost in drinking in the sight of you splayed on his bed like this—and maybe, all he can say is, "beautiful."
because sometimes, sometimes, he's just not the best with words. maybe he can't bring himself to form a coherent thought anymore but that; how beautiful you are, how ethereal, how perfect. between strings of moans of your name, maybe it's all he can say. but it's pure, and raw, and genuine in every sense of the word, almost like a cry tearing from his chest, because what he really means when he snaps his hips down to yours and fills you up with every last drop of his cum, is—i love you.
ꜱʏʟᴜꜱ
praise from sylus is enough to steal your breath away.
it's unexpected, mostly a surprise—albeit a pleasant one. and it's really not that he wouldn't do it often. it's quite the opposite, in fact; he'd do it often. because he knows. he knows exactly how to get you going, how to rile you up… and it's something that he would capitalize on, since your reactions have always been thoroughly endearing to him as much as they were amusing.
by this, i mean, it doesn't just stay in the bedroom. not at all. it slips into simple, everyday things. and that's why it's so unexpected for you.
after successfully completing a mission, he'd walk over and pull you towards him by the waist: "good job, sweetie." a basic task done in front of him, maybe something as simple as making yourself—or both of you—a meal, and: "what a good girl you are." the back-and-forth bickering you would sometimes have might end with him tapping a finger to his cheek, a little up, a glance of appreciation—"you're adorable when you're excited, sweetie." or maybe sometimes he'd walk up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, lean in to have his lips graze over the shell of your ear… "do you know that i'm quite fond of you? such a good, good girl for me."
he'd chuckle at the stutter in your motions, the flush on your cheeks… and he'd know you're defaulting to thoughts of the bedroom. especially when his voice would dip, all low and sultry, that satisfied, satisfied smirk on his face. 90% of the time, he'd get what he wants—which means you underneath him, fisting the sheets as he ravishes you whole; tongue, and teeth, and fingers… and more. of course, he'd aim for nothing more than to give you pleasure, and he knows how to make it better with just a few added words of praise.
"you're doing well, kitten. that's right, just like that… you make it so easy for me to worship you."
maybe he's conditioned you with it just a little bit.
xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ
xavier's praises are soft, but very direct.
he's not one to cut corners, not when it comes to the way that he sees you. like sylus, it slips into little, everyday things, half with the intention to rile you up, and half to genuinely just say what he's thinking. but as direct as his statements would be, he'd sometimes play a little coy. the irony is never lost with you. and yet, he'd do it anyway. all casual statements, blinks of innocence, smiles that would indicate he had zero idea of the effect he had on you.
you knew otherwise, though.
"you did really well," he'd say after a fight with a wanderer, "all that training really paid off." he'd nod, that familiar little nod that you know so well—to everyone else, it's so completely normal… and to you, it would have been, had the twinkle in his eye not been present, had his touch against your hand not lingered for a little bit longer than usual.
"i like your perfume today, it's nice," is how he greets you in the morning sometimes, with a smile that would have looked completely innocent—it not for the half-step he took closer to you, if not for the little twitch in the corner of his lips, if not for the way he'd reach over to move your hair from your face.
"your dress is pretty. i think it really fits you." a cute little compliment, no? you'd have taken it as such, but you wouldn't have missed the way his eyes would rake over your body, even with the slow, innocent blinks he'd give you afterwards. it doesn't matter that he offers you his hand for you to take, it doesn't matter if he brushes it off like he didn't just have every thought in his head on display for you. because at the end of the day, all of this turns into your fingers intertwined, you pressed up against your pillow, his head buried into the crook of your neck as he pumps his cock into you.
"mmmh… you're so good for me, angel, feel so good, so good…"
a little incoherent, not all that audible, but you can still hear it. he'd nuzzle into your skin, vibrations of his voice sending shivers through your body… there's something in him that doesn't quell him to stop, losing himself in how good you feel, how good you are. "you smell so good… you taste just as good, too, angel… you're so soft, so pretty, so pretty, so pretty, so pretty… nmh, don' want to stop…"
ᴢᴀʏɴᴇ
the way zayne praises you is quiet. gentle.
it's the kind that flows seamlessly into your ear like a soothing little melody… yet, his voice would carry with it a certain level of firmness, indicating that you have no other say in the matter. because he means it—and that's that. it's the kind of praise that's reassuring every time he'd say it, no matter how many times he'd say it. he's your safe haven. he knows how to make you feel better about yourself. insecurities? doubts? worries? gone, immediately. because that's the way it is with him.
it doesn't matter what about you he's praising, nor does it matter when. it's used less as a trigger for your pleasure, and more for him to be unfiltered with you. it doesn't matter if he's seeing you for a dinner date and you're all dressed up, it doesn't matter if he's coming home to you in your pajamas with messy hair and no makeup at all. it doesn't matter if you lose at a little board game the two of you had been playing, it doesn't matter if you'd won nearly half the stall at the carnival that day, doesn't matter if you're on the phone with him and there's a beat of silence as you listen to each others' breathing. it doesn't matter, either, if he's all the way inside of you, slow, rhythmic thrusts, lips attached to your ear—it doesn't matter if his hands had found their way to your chest, fondling and kneading at the soft flesh.
he'll whisper sweet words into your ear, always, whenever he gets the chance.
and at night, he holds you close, hushed words perfectly timed with each and every thrust. they aren't sweet nothings. they're sweet everythings. because he knows that these words are exactly what you need from him, exactly what you need to feel loved, and appreciated, and cared for. with zayne, praise is as genuine and as pure as it gets—sure, he'll cherish the way you whine in response, the whimpers that fall from your lips… he knows that it gives you an extra bit of pleasure, but that's a plus. more than that, he'd never fail to convey how much you mean to him. it's the perfect opportunity for him. just to hold you close, and make love to you like this, quiet, hushed little words of affirmations…
good girl. you take me so well, my love. you feel so good, darling. you're perfect for me.
ᴄᴀʟᴇʙ
praise from caleb is a little infuriating, but it works.
perhaps it's because you're much too used to bickering with him, all these playful little fights about anything under the sun that could usually end up in a fit of giggles—but praise from him comes off a little more like a tease sometimes, a little bit borderlining on mocking. not because he doesn't mean well, but, because… it takes a while for you to realize he's being genuine about it. he probably has to drill it into you himself—repeat it a few times, eyebrow raised, amusedly gauging your reactions. he'd watch you turn from a scoff, to a look of confusion, to the gradual realization that dawns—"caleb!" a gasp of surprise, and maybe you hit his shoulder a little, maybe he has to laugh.
but he means it.
he means it when he calls you beautiful, means it when he says you make him proud. he means it when he tells you how much you mean to him, means it when he tells you that there's no other person he'd rather be around like this, than you.
and he'd look you straight in the eyes when he says it again—repeats it, probably, for the nth time that day, trying to make you understand that it's real.
he repeats it even when he has you sinking into the mattress, pinned down by his weight, legs raised to his shoulder as he fucks himself into you. "yeah, you like that, right, pipsqueak? you're all beautiful like this, taking me so deep… fuck, i can't get enough of you. you're the only one for me, baby." he'd lift a hand to delicately trail down the side of your cheek, and you'd be astonished at the blatant swirl of lust and love settled deep in his eyes—filthy words punctuated with praise; he just can't help himself around you.
"mmm, pretty cunt all wrapped up around me… shit, i love you so damn much, why're you so perfect?" his hips would snap up so roughly, in contrast to the gentle caresses he'd leave over your body, in line with the way he's brought you up to orgasm after orgasm. "you're doing so well, baby, c'mon. you can cum again, just one more f'me…"
ᴊᴇʀᴇᴍɪᴀʜ
jeremiah's praises are a little bit… inconsistent.
not that you never know when you're going to get them, because he does it quite freely—pretty often, mostly whenever he feels like saying nice things about you, which, well… happens to be quite a lot.
but you never know how you're going to get them.
he's big on compliments, always has been. so sometimes it's extremely easy for him to whip out a few words of praise. maybe he saw a flower that reminded him of you. he'd send it over with a sweet letter detailing what you mean to him. or maybe he'd send a simple text, just a little "thinking of you today, princess!" to make you smile. sometimes, he'd give you a little kiss on the cheek, on the nose, say an equally simple "hey, you look beautiful today." or on other days, he'd play a little bit coy, maybe sending a little wink your way after some cheesy compliment disguised as a pickup line—playful, a little bit of a little shit about it, and these are the ones that probably get you the most flustered.
but as much as he prides himself in his way with words—literature lover at heart, poetry lover first before anything… well, sometimes he doesn't have words. not when it comes to you.
because, how can he? sometimes he's too overcome with emotion—the fact that you're here, the fact that you're with him, the fact that he can actually cup your face and look into your eyes and say with conviction that he's finally with the girl he loves more than anything else in the world. even more than flowers. even more than words.
and it's such times that he's more flustered than you. nevermind your praise kink—sometimes he's the one tripping over his words, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly and flushing in embarrassment when the words won't come out right. there's a little less of the nonchalance, the playfulness. he tries to be more serious, but it backfires, because he is serious—about you, about both of you, about your relationship… and about how much he loves you.
so even in intimate moments, your body flush against his; even in the way that he kisses you, so tender and loving and sweet… even when he rolls his hips against yours in a slow, gentle motion, even when he'd make love to you under the dim lights of his bedroom… sometimes, his words just fail him. sometimes all he can do is look into your eyes and breathlessly moan out your name. sometimes he has to dip down and nuzzle into your chest, whining out something incoherent—something like a mushed up string of i love you's if you really listen closely enough.
there's a little less praise to go around.
maybe he'll call you pretty, maybe he'll call you perfect… maybe he'll say a little something about how good you feel, but they're lost and broken into moans, and maybe you're both too into it to really register anything he's saying. because for all that he prides himself with his words, he's really just a little too lost in the feeling of you to bother.
(in the end, it's easier for you to get his praise outside the bedroom…)
ᴋɪᴇʀᴀɴ
praise from kieran is… rare.
he's not used to it; not at all.
part of him maybe thinks he should do it more—well, no, he knows that he probably should, especially when he knows it makes you feel good. he'd admit it to himself that he likes getting you all flustered, enjoys knowing that he has a certain effect on you, that even a simple little praise is enough to give him such a reaction. but words of affirmation aren't particularly his thing, and it just… doesn't happen very often. if it did, it would happen randomly, with nothing too elaborate, maybe even just said in passing—mostly because he doesn't want to draw attention to it. there's a part of him that feels a little bit embarrassed about being so direct with his words like that.
still, it happens nonetheless, sometimes. and when it does happen, it's really truly almost as if there's nothing else you can think of but him. his words. the fact that he's actually really, truly, legitimately praised you.
pretty. just one word. he has you pinned against the wall, something of a knowing smirk visible on his lips as his fingers trace the curve of your jaw and dip lower.
good girl. two words, two fingers dip into your mouth for just a moment… and he's so pleased when you let him. so what else can he do but kiss you? what else can he do but press his body up against yours, feel the way you practically melt against him like this?
he's remembering truly just how much his praise gets to you, and it spurs him to act further—low grunts about how good you feel when he hoists a leg up to his waist so he can slide himself into you, all snug and comfortable in your wet heat... he could praise you for how well you take him, little words about how you're absolutely the best—"mmm you're driving me crazy, angel… just like that. good. fucking. girl."
it's rare, and he doesn't do it often. but maybe, sometimes, when he does start… it's a little bit difficult to stop.
ʟᴜᴋᴇ
one thing to be established is: luke's praises are constant.
they never stop. you hear them so goddamn much. in fact, maybe part of you even feels a little used to it.
it happens nearly all the time, as many times as he can think to—sometimes a little bit teasing, sometimes just to get under your skin a little, sometimes maybe a teeny bit (a lot) obnoxious about it… or, sometimes, in a softer tone, a little more genuine than usual. but the root of it really remains to be that he'll take every little opportunity to throw a compliment your way. especially when he realize it affects you a little more than he originally thought. because the way your heart rate accelerates? the way you'd freeze in place for even just a tiny tiny moment, every single time? even the way your cheeks heat up, maybe sometimes the way your eyes would dart away from him to look at anything else in the room… it gives him pure joy, and it only makes him want to do it more.
"heyy, pretty little miss hunter!" in simple, everyday settings? he'd be so casual about it when he sees you, maybe throwing a little wink your way. the grin on his face would be so telling about how much he just knows. "you look cute today!" or, "that thing you did just now was really cool!" or even just, "what's my pretty girl up to this time, huh?" and it gets your brain blanking in seconds.
but it doesn't compare to the bedroom—a quiet place where he's softer, gentler… where all you can hear are his praises, about anything and everything, hands moving over your body in tender, petting caresses. "your skin's super soft," he'd mumble. "did you use a new shampoo, or something? smells real nice." and he'd dip his head into your neck, lick at the sensitive patch of skin… his hands would slide between your legs, rubbing teasing circles over your clit. "mmm… tastes good… feels good…" he'd dip his finger in, gathering your slick, chuckling at how much there already is— "damn, sunshine, so wet for me? that's what i like to see."
it's a little infuriating, in a sense. he finds every little thing to praise, but… he means it. there's so much of you to praise. it's more than just how well you take his fingers, his tongue, his cock; it's more than just how good you feel or how good you're being for him… it's just, everything. he wants to say what's on his mind with you, and especially behind closed doors? he's got a whole lot of thoughts, and all of them happen to be good things about you.
warnings- cussing, drug use (weed), scorches (something fell on you and lightly and briefly burned you, that’s really it.
wc: 3.7k…damn
authors note: this is my first actual fic on here and i’m nervous as hell to publish it. let me know what y’all think. also anyone can read this like reader is not heavily described only physical descriptions would be through family descriptions.
“Dude, where the hell am I supposed to go?” Billie’s voice was almost swallowed by the bustling crowd as she called out to her friend on the phone.
“I said—” Her friend’s voice was distorted, breaking up as the connection faltered. Between the weak signal, the endless chatter of people crowding around her, and the constant bumping of bodies as she waded through the sea of strangers, Billie was overstimulated and ready to turn around and go home.
She raised her phone high in the air, stretching her arm up in a desperate attempt to catch a stronger signal. She stood like that for a good minute, nudging into people who glared or muttered curses under their breath. Her frustration melted into relief when she felt a hand grasp her forearm, spinning her around.
“God, there you are man.” she exhaled in relief when she realized it was her friend. “I’ve been literally shouting at my phone like i’m insane. People keep fucking staring at me,” she added, casting side-eyes at the annoyed faces around her as she moved closer to her best friend.
“Well, I’ve got you now, so let’s just go,” her friend laughed, wrapping an arm around Billie’s shoulders and steering her through the throng of people to where the rest of the group was gathered.
They came to a halt in front of a crooked, black wire fence embedded into the patchy grass and dirt. The track lay just beyond, close enough that she could see the dust and rubble scattered on the pavement.
Billie’s breath hitched as she stared out at the cars lined up on the track. She leaned against the fence, eyes wide and mouth agape, taking in every gleaming detail—some vehicles boasted flashy modifications, while others were classic models still in their original forms. Her excitement and awe were almost childlike, as if she were experiencing the best Christmas of her life.
“How much are you betting?” one of her friends asked, snapping her out of her trance.
“Huh?” Billie replied, still entranced by the sight before her, eyes glistening under the bright floodlights.
“I said, who are you betting on and how much? I might match it,” the friend whispered as if it were a closely guarded secret.
“Uh—shit, man, I don’t know. Lemme see.”
Her gaze swept over the cars lined up from back to front, her eyes scanning each driver hanging around their vehicles—likely waiting for the race to start. And then, she spotted it. You.
Or rather, your car.
A smooth, lustrous, sable-black custom GT500 sat front and center. The tires glowed faintly in a soft lilac hue, casting a mesmerizing light over the soot-covered terrain. A raven, intricately engraved on the back right side of the car, shimmered with deep violet accents, giving the vehicle an almost ethereal quality.
You sat at the very front of the starting line, so close to the crowd that if you focused, you could catch snippets of their conversations. Your windows, tinted so dark no one could see inside, were rolled down halfway, allowing the warm glow of lights from the track and your car’s interior to cast delicate shadows across your face. Soft music drifted from the vehicle, mingling with the cacophony of the streets.
‘To take my love away, when I come back around, will I know what to say?’
Billie’s eyes widened and her heart jumped a little when she realized what song was playing softly from your car. She knew that song. The melody, the lyrics—it was Chihiro.
Her song.
“Oh my God, Zoe, she’s playing my song!” she blurted out excitedly.
“Who? Billie, who?”
“Her, right there in the black car.”
“The one with the bird?”
“Yes, the one with the fucking bird.”
“Can you tell who it is?”
“Uh…no.” Billie squinted, trying to make out your face, but all she could see was your hair cascading down your back in a cascade of purple and grey highlights. You seemed engrossed in something in your lap, brows furrowed in concentration.
Your car chimed as the door opened and rocked slightly as someone climbed into the passenger seat. The radio’s bass thrummed louder into the night as the beat dropped along with the chorus.
“Oh my God, you’re still rolling up? This is why I get pre-rolls,” the passenger teased, irritation lacing their tone as they glanced at you. The irritation in her voice made you smirk, but you kept your eyes on the blunt you were carefully twisting between your fingers.
You lifted your head, resting your elbow on the armrest. “But they don’t look as pretty as this one, now do they?” you teased back, handing over the blunt you’d been working on. The passenger rolled her eyes but took it from you, holding it delicately in the air inspecting it.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she grumbled. Her long acrylic nails clicked against the blunt as she placed it in her mouth with practiced ease and sparked it up with a flick of her lighter. The cherry of the blunt glowed a vibrant ember in the dim light as she inhaled.
Her red and black racing suit, with the name Blaze stitched onto the left sleeve, fit snugly against her frame. Silky, pressed black hair, highlighted with streaks of red and pink, fell to her upper back in waves and curls, framing her sun-kissed face. Her slender brown eyes gleamed with a look of concern as she exhaled, the scent of weed wafting through the car.
A ping sounded from your phone, drawing you back in. You picked it up, eyes narrowing at the notification:
11 new messages from Mom
“You good?” she asked, leaning over to glance at your screen.
“No. It’s my mom again. She’s been blowing up my phone ever since I left this morning.” You sighed and took the blunt from her hand, not caring about the remnants of her sticky lip gloss left on the wrap. You knew your lips would leave the same trace. She took your phone, unlocking it without hesitation. You knew she’d handle it while you leaned back, taking a long drag, your gaze drifted to the night sky, watching how the stars shimmered against the inky backdrop.
“I keep thinking that this is a bad dream, and that if I try hard enough, I just might wake up,” you murmured.
“Yeah, well, this sad-ass music isn’t helping,” she joked. As if on cue, the next track started—an upbeat tempo that vibrated through the car’s interior. your heart beat matched as the bass trembled throughout your body. ej bounced in her seat, trying to lighten the mood.
“Uht-uh,” you protested, disconnecting your phone from the Bluetooth. “Don’t go changing my shit. My car, my music. You know the rules. Besides, it’s not sad.”
“Yes, it is. That’s like Billie Eilish’s whole schtick, isn’t it?” she scoffed. “Oh, by the way, she’s here.”
“Who?” You turned to look at her, confused.
“Billie. Eilish. The singer. She’s right over there,” she said, pointing.
You leaned over her, eyes darting around the crowd. “Where? I don’t see her.” All you saw were the flag bearers collecting extra bets on the side, cash being shuffled and tossed in baskets.
“Wait, what? Where?”
“Over there—” She pointed, and you leaned over her, eyes darting around.
“Oh my god, girl, she’s *right over there*!” your friend shouted, exasperated.
Hearing this, Billie looked over. Blue eyes met yours. EJ’s shout of frustration caught Billie’s attention, and her gaze drifted back to your car. Blue eyes met yours. She lifted her hand in a tentative wave, offering a soft smile.
Your eyes widened in panic. Instead of waving back, both you and EJ ducked, bumping into your friend in the process, shouting curses at each other. The forgotten blunt fell into your lap, searing through your suit and burning you in the process.
“Ah—damn it,” you muttered, picking it up and handing it to her. Her soft hands brushed against yours as she took it, putting it out and storing the remnants in a container before stuffing it in the glove compartment.
“You looked so rude. You should’ve waved back.” EJ chided, side-eyeing you.
“Shut up,” you muttered, reconnecting your phone to the car. The opening notes of “Goosebumps” by Travis Scott filled the space, the beat thrumming through your body.
“Listen, I get that you’re going through a lot right now, but I need you to lock the fuck in. You need that money, and I’d hate to see you lose.”
“I know. I’ve got it. Don’t worry.”
“Good, ‘cause it’d be a shame for me to wipe the floor with your ass. You’ll be begging for mercy when we’re done.” Her sudden switch to competitiveness made you laugh.
The sight of the flag girl approaching your car caught your attention. You watched as your friend climbed out and into her own car. The flag bearer checked to make sure you were set before returning to her position at the starting line.
“Ready, Rider?”
Even though you were wearing your riding gear, the hairs on your body stood up as the crisp breeze snuck through the open window and washed over you. Your arm dangled out of the car, fingers loosely tapping against the exterior, while your other hand gripped the steering wheel firmly. The hum of your car vibrated through your entire being, a calming rhythm that matched the beat of your heart. Around you, the other drivers started revving up their engines, plumes of smoke and gas curling up into the air, mixing with the noise of the restless crowd.
"As ready as I can be." you called out, turning your gaze to your best friend and rival. Her car was parked right beside yours—an M4 F82 that was as sleek and black as the night sky. Its red headlights burned like fiery eyes glaring through the darkness like a beast ready to pounce, and the rims, designed into the shape of hearts, shone brightly against the pavement.
You remembered how she’d insisted on having them when you guys went to pick out your first racing cars. “Because I’m ‘just a girl’ ” she’d declared, sticking up her middle finger at the guys who laughed at her. She’d never cared what anyone thought, not when she’d made them eat their words in nearly every race, leaving them in the dust while looking good doing it.
The hum of motors built into a crescendo as everyone continued to rev their engines, the anticipation and excitement electrifying the brisk night air.
“Is everyone ready?” The flag bearer stepped in front of the starting line, checkered flags poised high in the air. Shouts of agreement and cheers erupted from the crowd, adding to the energy of the moment.
You hovered your foot over the gas pedal, adrenaline coursing through your veins.
“Ready.”
You glanced at the starting line, taking a deep breath as your fingers tightened around the wheel. Eyes closed, you drew in a deep breath, focusing. All the energy, anger, and frustration from earlier started bubbling up to the surface.
“Set.”
With your eyes shut, the words from this morning's argument with your parents flashed through your mind:
“You’ll never be like him.”
“Racing isn’t something you can do forever.”
“You need to fix your shit. This hobby will get you nowhere.”
“You’ve become such a disappointment. What happened to you? Where did I go wrong?”
All that pain, all that bitterness—you channeled it, letting it fuel you.
“Go!”
The words barely left her mouth before your eyes flew open. For a brief moment, the world went still and everything seemed to fall away. It was just you, your car, and the road. Your foot pressed down on the gas pedal, and you took off, the lilac lights on your car morphing into an intense, inky purple as your tires gripped the pavement.
You felt weightless, like a feather caught in the wind, as you accelerated, the track lights casting an ethereal glow over the cars. The world blurred around you, every twist and turn coming effortlessly, your hands moving as if on instinct.
A constant ringing broke through your focus. Your phone vibrated repeatedly, the lit screen showing multiple notifications. You took a quick glance, irritation flaring up as you scrolled through them.
- 5 new missed calls from Mom
- 20 new texts from Fam GC
- 2 new voicemails from Mama J
- 3 new texts from Dad
Your fingers hovered over the voicemail from Mama J, your heart tightening as you reluctantly hit play.
“Hey sweetheart. Now I don’t know what’s happening between you and your parents, but they’re blowing up my phone, asking about you…” You rolled your eyes in annoyance. Typical of them to involve someone else when you refused to entertain their bullshit. “I’m not trying to get in between this, but what I will say is that you need to call them people. Or at least call your mother and stop running away fr—”
You turned off your phone and tossed it back into the passenger seat, jaw clenched in frustration. You loved your Mama J, but you weren’t in the mood to hear any more of that nonsense. Not now, not during this. You got enough of it from your parents, you don’t need to hear it from your godmother either.
Your grip on the wheel tightened as your chest rose and fell with deep, heavy breaths. The fight with your parents played on a loop in your head, every word an echo that grew louder and more taunting.
‘Look, all I’m saying is that I don’t understand why you continue to choose racing when you know how I feel about it—how we feel about it.’
‘Ma, I get where you’re coming from,but—‘
‘I’m telling you right now, you will get nothing from this. You already have a good job—why must you go and ruin it by doing this foolish nonsense?’
“Fuck this. Like, actually fuck them.” You muttered the words aloud, forgetting for a moment that the line was still open, and your best friend, EJ, was listening on the other end.
“Yo, are you good? Like actually?” Her voice was laced with concern, crackling through the car’s speakers and snapping you back to reality.
“Y-yeah, I think so. Why?”
“Because you’re falling so behind that Nick is beating you. Mind you he literally can’t race for shit. Girl, c’mon!”
“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, eyes darting to the rearview mirror. Sure enough, you were lagging behind. The other drivers had taken advantage of your distraction, speeding past and leaving you in the dust.
“And stop worrying about what my mama said. She’s just playing messenger. We’ll handle it when we get home, okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.” You nodded even though she couldn’t see you, your foot pressing down harder on the gas pedal.
“It will be okay, just hurry your ass up.”
The car lurched forward as you pushed it to its limits, the rush of adrenaline pumping through your blood like fire. Everything else melted away—the arguing voices in your head, the messiness of the family drama—all of it evaporated, leaving just you and the open road. You swerved expertly between cars, dodging obstacles and maneuvering through sharp turns, the wind roaring in your ears.
This—right here, right now—this was freedom. This was why you kept coming back, no matter how bad things got. The thrill, the speed, the way your heart seemed to beat in time with the roar of your engine. It made all the god forsaken bullshit in your life disappear, if only for a little while.
The white of the finish line came into view, a grin breaking across your face as you accelerated one last time, crossing it just seconds before anyone else.
You’d placed first.
You pressed on the brakes, heart pounding wildly as you let out a shaky breath, leaning back in your seat.
“Congrats! See what happens when you block out the bullshit and focus?” EJ’s voice rang out as she parked beside you, hopping out and pulling you into a hug.
The two of you leaned against the hood of your car, laughing and catching your breath, your excitement palpable. You could hear someone shouting your name, prompting you to look around until your eyes landed on the culprit.
“What the fuck, dude,” she whispered to her best friend as she stared in awe.
“What?” Zoe asked, glancing back and forth between you and Billie. “Billie, you’ve been staring at her all night. Let’s just go say hey.” she wrangled with the gate until she got it open.
“I did though. I waved, and she hid from me,” Billie grumbled, but Zoe ignored her, practically dragging her over to where you were standing.
You turned and your eyes locked with Billie’s for the second time that night. This time, she took you in fully, studying every detail—the way your eyes gleamed under the lights, how your glossed lips shone, and the soft cascade of purple and grey streaks of hair framing your face.
“Oh my god, Zoe, is that you?” You greeted Zoe first, pulling her into a tight hug as the two of you exchanged a few words. Then, you turned your gaze back to Billie, offering a small smile.
“Who’s your friend here?” you asked, nodding towards Billie.
“Sorry, this is my best friend, Billie.”
“Well, hi Billie,” you said, your tone gentle and welcoming. The way her name rolled off your lips made Billie’s stomach do a little flip. You kept your gaze steady, not once breaking eye contact. “How’d you enjoy the race?”
“I really liked it.” Billie smiled softly, but before she could say more, Zoe chimed in.
“This is her first race. I practically had to drag her here.”
“Really?” You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “Well, I’m glad you came. Who’d you bet on?”
“I didn’t get a chance. The race started too soon. But if I could’ve, it would’ve been you. Your car looked sweet as hell.” She rocked on her heels, trying to keep her cool, but you could tell she was nervous. It was cute.
“Thanks, I appreciate the support.”
She shrugged casually, but her eyes lingered on your face. “It’s whatever.”
“Is there something on my face?” You laughed, wiping at your cheeks just in case.
“No, no,” she stammered, shaking her head. “It’s just… you’re so gorgeous.”
The compliment caught you off guard, and you couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across your face, even though you tried to play it off. “Oh my god, girl, stop playing.”
“I’m serious,” she insisted, stepping closer.
“Could say the same about you, pretty.”
“Really?” Billie’s eyebrow quirked. “Because it didn’t seem like it when you hid from me earlier.”
“Shit, you saw that?” You asked, rubbing the back of your neck. “I normally would’ve waved back, but I got—I don’t know—scared, I guess. Well, not scared—” You trailed off, looking up at the night sky, searching for the right word as her laughter rang out. Hearing her laugh threw you off, causing a small grin to creep up on your face. “Okay, whatever the fuck the word is,” you muttered, giving up with a light chuckle of your own. “But... I’m sorry.”
“Nah, don’t sweat it. it was kinda cute.” Billie’s eyes did another slow sweep over your frame, lingering on every detail like she was trying to commit it to memory.
“Stop looking at me like that, bro.”
“Like what?”
“Like that.” You shook your head, glancing away as if that’d hide the heat creeping up your cheeks and the way your smile stretched wider every second. You turned your gaze back, realizing something. “Where’s Zoe?” She was supposed to be around somewhere, helping you avoid embarrassing yourself too much with your obvious—and very clumsy—flirting. But she was nowhere in sight.
Your eyes swept over the parking lot until you finally spotted her lounging on the hood of EJ’s car, chatting it up with your best friend.
“Hey, uh—do you maybe wanna take my car for a ride?” you blurted out, shifting your weight between your feet.
Billie’s eyes widened, surprise flashing across her face. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, why not? It’ll just be a few minutes.”
She wandered over, running her fingers along the sleek lines of your car, eyes alight with curiosity. “Damn, this is really something,” she murmured almost to herself, voice low. A small whistle escaped her as she took in the intricate details and custom work. You were just about to toss her the keys when—
*Woop Woop*
The sound of sirens pierced through the air. Blue and red lights started flooding the lot, casting sharp, flickering shadows everywhere.
“Fuck. Okay, y’all need to get out of here. Now.” Your voice was rushed as you bolted back to the driver’s side.
“EJ, I’ll meet you at your house,” you shouted, throwing yourself into your seat and jamming the key into the ignition. The roar of your engine masked the rising panic around you. “Zoe’s got my number,” you called out to Billie over the commotion. “She’ll give it to you, and we can talk about that ride later!” That was the last thing you managed to say before you and everyone else peeled out of the lot, tires screeching against the pavement as a sea of cop cars closed in fast.
Billie stood there, frozen, eyes locked on your car as you sped away. The flashing red and blue lights reflected off her pale face, her expression caught somewhere between awe and disbelief. Zoe had to physically drag her back, yanking her arm until she stumbled out of her daze.
“C’mon, we have to go now!”
You glanced into your rearview mirror, catching one last glimpse of Billie as she stood rooted to the spot, staring after you. Zoe tugged her along, but she kept looking back, even as the sirens blared louder and the chaos around them spiraled.
There was no way EJ wouldn’t hear every single detail about tonight. If she thought you weren’t about to gush for the next few hours, she was just plain wrong.
authors note: part 2? if so comment something to let me know if you want to be on the taglist! love and light, be safe <3 -vay
synopsis ༊*·˚ its the hottest heatwave yet and you're downright miserable and the delight of
refreshing beverages only serves you temporary relief from the summer heat. though, your boyfriend is
nearby you at all times, ensuring you're the summer sun doesn't eat you up.
flavor ೃ⁀➷ fluff
saiki my love wc: <1.k
the tokyo sun ignited the asphalt, scorching hot to whoever dared to walk along it. it was extra hot today. the hottest heatwave of the month yet. you sat on the couch. your body completely slouched over as you drank the last bit of your ice-cool water. your hand moves back and forth, attempting to encourage better airflow. the fan beside you barely circulates the air in the room. your body just continues to form more and more sweat beads.
“i swear, this fan is only blowing hot air,” you sigh, admittedly frustrated. you check the fan’s settings, “it's on the highest..” you want to cry, the heat is unbearable and you fight the urge to groan.
at that moment, saiki appeared out of nowhere. as if he was summoned by your discomfort. you're only aware and sure of his presence when you feel something frigid cold on your cheek. you spring up and smile seeing your boyfriend. his expression was indifferent as always. he held in his two hands, lemonades, one complimented with a few ice cubes while the other was filled full.
“for you,” he hands you the latter. your smile widens and you accept it gratefully. “youre so sweet,” you take a few gulps, instantly feeling your body cool down once again. you know the feeling is temporary but you indulge yourself anyway.
saiki sits next to you and watches you. you swallow the entire glass in a matter of minutes. forever chasing that chillingly cool feeling again. your gaze eventually meets saiki’s and you grow sheepish, a little embarrassed you downed the drink so soon. “i’m sorry,” youre quick to apologize but he’s just as quick to reassure you. his hands find their way to your cheek, cupping it affectionately. “don't worry about it,” he smiles subtly, you almost missed it. his fingers dragged along the top of your lips, wiping away the mustache line of the beverage. you can feel yourself swoon all over again but the moment doesn't last long.
the house makes an alarming whir sound, the electronic devices around you powering down followed by a deafening silence.
you glance around frantically, watching the fan slowly come to a stop. you open your mouth to speak but instantly feel a comforting breeze your way. you peer toward the direction of the wind and believe it must've come from the window, seeing as the curtains are flown up in the air.
you stand up abruptly and pull the curtains even wider, you stand by it and lean your head out, hoping the wind will bless you once more.
saiki watches along, aloof. your back is facing him so you can't see the storm he’s working up on his face, especially in his head. he gets up and stands behind you. he doesn't cage you in or anything. he just stands there, not saying anything. you can sense his hesitating nature, “don't let me stop you from getting some air,” you step aside, giving him room to stand by you. he blinks, blankness and you think you did something nice.
he steps beside you anyway and soon enough, you feel that cool breeze again. you sigh, a smile tugging on your lips. “oh gosh,” your drops down. the sweat on your body becomes less visible in seconds, leaving your skin a sticky glow.
“maybe i should just sit outside,” you think out loud, saiki’s gaze forever following your form as you walk to the back of the house, sliding the backdoor open, you almost disappear from his view. he sees you effortlessly sit down on a chair on the back porch. he meets you there, legs crossed and hand perched up, fanning yourself.
he stands beside you and– there's that chilly feeling again. you almost moan, head lying back on the headrest, and you sit there, delighted.
“i knew outside would be cooler,” you beam, closing your eyes to the summer heat that currently brings you peace. saiki nearly laughs at your obliviousness, finding it endearing.
“youre gonna fall asleep out here?” he asks you, kneeling to your level. he holds your hand, his thumb smoothing over your skin, and you visibly shiver, a chill flowing down your body. “”i just might,” youre growing weary now. perhaps it's the heat finally getting to you. he laughs this time, standing up to scoop you up in his arms and for some odd reason you feel the warm air less, your body now lowering to a comfortable temperature. your face lightens and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck.
saiki carries you to the bedroom, resting you down carefully. he sits near you. watching you stare at him. and that's when you realize it.
you sit up, eyebrows furrowed, your brain rapidly moving to execute your thoughts.
“it's you… isn't it?” you’re certain but decide to ask anyway. saiki can't help but smile. he kisses your cheek and the room grows cold on impact, practically surrounding you like a blanket. you sit up and find yourself in his lap, hugging close to his body.
“let me stay here,” you mumble into scent. securing your entanglement. he mimics you, wrapping his arms around the lower part of your back, he hugs you closer. you shiver once more, his touch literally sending tingles down your frame.
“thank you.”
“anything for you.”
saiki holds you and ensures that you are comfortable as you settle into the quietude of the room. you feel your heart grow ten times more recalling back the last hour. he’s been cooling you off this entire time. you subconsciously cling tighter, relishing in the serenity on this hot summer day.
Synopsis: To Hiromi, the best way to destress is enjoying yourself by pleasuring your wife
Pair: Hiromi Higuruama x chubby reader
Tw: Oral (fem), praise, face sitting, pet names
A/n what Doja Cat said about noses, I agree with her..
“I want you to sit on my face, now” Hiromi says, his normal tired expression plastered on his face as if what he said wasn’t shocking.
Everything you were working on, you quickly drop it, focusing on your husband. He just came back from work, and that’s the only thing he uttered to you.
“Sorry? What did you just say?” You ask, tilting your head as you eye your husband.
Your face goes crimson red from embarrassment, you gulp. He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“It’s not that hard to understand, please just sit on my face.. I’ve had a long day at work” He sighs, walking over the door, locking it.
The sound of his shoes hitting the ground as he walks towards you, he gently takes your hand. His eyes are burning with a mixture of love, lust, and need.
“So.. you want me to.. sit on your face.. as a way to destress?” You repeat, still at a loss of words.
Hiromi slowly pulls your top, revealing your plump breasts. He gently touches your belly, squeezing the soft flesh.
“B-but what if I accidentally crush you?” You ask, feeling him pull down your panties.
You were only wearing one of Hiromi’s shirts, leaving you naked in front of him. He gently pulls you to the bed, moving himself to lay on his back.
“Then I will die as a happy man” Hiromi sighs, an unfamiliar smile forming on his face.
“But-“ you protest, only to be cut off.
“Please, my love” he begs, watching how you obediently climb over him.
Your pussy is already dripping with your juices, swollen and sticky with your arousal. You're hovering over his face, you can feel his hot breath hitting on your cunt.
You inch yourself a little closer to his face, your cunt close enough for him to enjoy himself. But he doesn’t make an effort to pleasure you, his hands moving to hold your hip.
“I said sit, not hover” Hiromi hums, attempting to tug you down on his face.
You whine, reluctantly setting your weight onto his face. You whine, his nose pressing against your clit.
Hiromi instantly swirls his tongue sloppily around your hole, sinking inside. A moan falls from your mouth as his tongue sinks into your hole, coaxing more of your juices out of your cunt.
His nose is pressing harshly onto your clit, the pressure making shivers go through your spine. Your plump thighs rest beside his head, squeezing his head gently.
Hiromi has always been good with his tongue, you're so close to cumming! Your eyes roll back as you cum, your thighs trembling.
After a bit of trying to catch your breath, you pull yourself from his face. His lip is swollen, his eyes barely open.
“Did I say we were done? Sit back done” he grumbles, ignoring your protests, tugging you back down onto his hungry mouth.
i don’t regret writing this, I would take any chance to sit on his face 🤭 (ya’ll send me some requests of this man or else imma loose my shit)
you sit on the floor, utterly defeated. your mind drifts over countless thoughts and feelings at once. you stare at the numerous binders and loose paper sheets, eyes hot and threatening to slip your unwanting sorrows.
your boyfriend stumbles into the room, breathless as his eyes dart around before finally landing on you. he’s quick and crouches before you, a blatant startled expression scattered across his features.
“i heard a loud thud, are you okay?” he scans your body for any injury, hands gently holding your head while adjusting it left and right. he stops mid-inspection and notices your sullen expression. “yn, baby what's wrong?” he caresses your cheeks and for some reason, this only makes you cry. his eyes only widen and he stands on his feet, offering his hands to you. with blurry vision, you take them naturally. he helps you up and guides you to the bed behind you. he sits down first and welcomes you in his embrace.
you continue to sob, tears now completely clouding your vision, falling freely down your cheeks and onto your shirt. leaving small wet droplet stains.
“talk to me, what happened?” he feels frantic but keeps his composure for you. he didn't want to provoke the situation further. you take a deep breath, swallowing past the awful lump in your throat that left your breath choppy and stuttering. too overwhelmed to steady your cries.
“it's too hard,” you start, agitatedly wiping your wet face. eren doesn't say anything and only stares at you sincerely, giving you the room to speak. “i just…i try my best a-and nothing works out,” you glance at the paper mess below you two and eren follows your gaze. “i-im gonna f-fail and never graduate. i’ll forever be stuck and stressed about things that don't even make sense,” you ramble, pouring your emotions out into the room. his hand smooths over your back soothingly allowing you to air out your grievances as he listens intently.
once you’re done, he kisses the side of your head and wipes away the remnants on your face. his thumb massaging along your now silky skin.
“feel better?” he asks sweetly. you aren't able to see his face, yet you still felt his kind smile, beaming assuringly. you sniffle and shake your head. he chuckles lowly, finding your response endearing. “well…know that i'm here for you and that there’s nothing at all you can't do. you’ve come so far, there is absolutely nothing you can't figure out. even if you have your moments of struggles, just know that i'm here to support you through it,” his words were even sweeter and were said with so much love. his lips meet your knuckles tenderly before he stares up at you fondly. you swoon internally, wondering how you managed to be so lucky.
“so, how about, we get you something to eat– or sleep, whatever it is you’re in the mood for right now?” he moves to hold you securely in his lap. you shift, making yourself more comfortable as you drape your arms around him, nestling your face in his warm embrace.
“can you just hold me?” you request softly.
“of course,”
eren lays down slowly, careful not to ruin your relaxed position. he lays you on his chest and you hug him tightly. he doesn't mind, his hand soothingly rubbing long strokes on your back. your worries went away one by one. emotions quelled down with ease, almost like you were never upset at all. you sigh contently, remaining close to him as you both lay still in each other's affectionate hold.
synopsis ༊*·˚ your best friend eren can't handle the thought of you going out on a date, let alone in a dress he bought for you. so he distracts you from going!
contains ೃ⁀➷ oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, cum eating, overstimulation, soothing ass massages, lovesick eren just wanting to make you feel good.
this wasn't planned..and was super late. sorry.
you spun around in the mirror, eyes dancing along your plump figure. you sigh feeling defeated. throwing your skirt onto the floor with other articles of clothing you previously tried on, shadowing your current emotions. you were beginning to lose hope. nothing in the moment seemed to flatter you and you’re growing more frustrated by the second.
the formerly clean room now stood in utter disarray. items scattered, dressing the ground suitable for the mood. your playlist wasn't of any help as it played more upbeat music. contrary to what you're feeling.
you walk over the small pile of clothes and head back over to your suitcase which has very few options left. you grabbed whatever you could before throwing them on the bed. earning an exasperated mumble.
“seriously?” your best friend sighs, removing a stray pair of underwear from his arm. his voice instantly reminds you of his presence. you forgot you invited him over for a second opinion.
“sorry eren, i'm just losing patience here,” you mutter, removing your off-the-shoulder top, leaving you in just your underwear. unaware of the intense gaze following your every movement.
the male ponders staring at the clothes thrown to the side of him. a mix of bottled-up emotions coursing through the pit in his stomach. you were preparing yourself for a date.
you were out with your group of friends, having a good time as one does when they're on spring break when an attractive man approached you at the bar, claiming his move on you first. eren grits his teeth recalling the previous night.
you had been keeping your friends company on the dance floor, giving your worn-out body a few minutes of rest at the bar. you were deciding to satisfy both your thirst and prickling feet. eren had his focus on you the entire time. despite having enticing women surround his table. his lips tugged into a smile, far too many times he can count, watching you enjoy yourself. he waited until you were alone. all the while, trying to spark up the courage to talk to you, unaware of his forlorn expression that wore on his group of friends. they all bashed him for killing their mood with his obvious distress. one of them offered him words of encouragement to talk to you until ultimately garnering enough strength to walk over to where you sat, he quickly stopped in his tracks when he saw a random guy sit beside you. he was only a few words in and already had you laughing at whatever it was he said. eren could only stare blankly at you both before returning to his seat. crushed he lost the chance to speak with you. he folds and bends his fingers and hands, a habit he grew throughout the years. his joints crack and twist at every will. the sound of it springs your attention to his distracted one.
“eren?” you called him again, hoping to draw his attention away from whatever had been occupying his mind.
he hums softly and looks up at you, acknowledging your new choice of outfit.
“what do you think?” you tug at the much shorter skirt, seeking helpful input.
“it’s too much.”
his answer lacked the usual spark and interest, much like all the other responses he gave you.
you huff displeased. “you’ve said that for ten outfits straight. it's either too much or i'm not putting in the effort,” you retort. expressing your blatant irritation.
eren’s gaze returns to the carpet, not having anything to say back. the silence speaking for him. he continues to fiddle with his hands, at a loss for words, unable to articulate the turmoil building inside of him.
“if you knew you weren’t going to be helpful, why did you agree to this?” you pull the blouse over your head, tossing it into the other pile of rejected clothes.
eren just remains silent. his line of vision pursues your hasty movements. you approach the bed and sort through the remaining options. a white garment in particular captivates both you and eren. your eyes practically gleamed at the flowy material. you might have just found something to wear for your date.
eren’s breathing misses a beat, resulting in him inhaling unsteadily. you're oblivious to his new state. as you always were. it was no different this time so why did eren feel himself getting riled up? he could only watch hopelessly as you threw the dress. it was a perfect fit. of course, it was. he was the one who bought it for you after all.
it was a gift. he had promised you one if you managed to pass at least three of your exams. he remembers the day quite fondly. he had just finished his shift, paycheck in hand when you sent him a text asking him to pick you up some food. later defending the text, explaining that it was a joke when you sent it. you weren't expecting him to show up with food in hand at your door thirty minutes later but he got it for you. besides, it was thanks to you that he got the chance to see such a fitting dress for you. he had passed by the store so many times on his way home from work. that day, some workers had put up new sets on display, grabbing his attention. he stopped to take a good look through the slightly smudged glass window and knew right away which dress was made for you. his heartbeat races at the thought of you potentially wearing his gift.
you squealed, your excitement not being able to be contained. it snaps eren back to you. a wave of resentment rose in his throat.
“you're not wearing that.”
the disapproving comment leaves you taken aback. it came out of nowhere. you spun around, your mouth curving into a wry smile. and as if on cue, your playlist ends. signaling just how quiet the room was without it.
“yeah okay, you hater,” you brush him off, heedless of his sincerity. eren doesn't take this lightly and stands up, walking over to the mirror where you stand, admiring the dress. his reflection grows closer to yours, though you don't pay him any mind.
“i mean it,” he mumbles. focused on the soft warm carpet beneath his feet. you glance behind you. he had gotten closer to you in the last few moments. his proceeding steps make you back into the wall. his body towered over you, casting a shadow over your shorter height. his arm presses against the wall, his concentration remaining on the ground. his mouth moved reluctantly as if he wanted to say something. you stared intently anticipating his next move, noting the trouble in his eyes, despite the stray hairs trying to hide them. they fall nicely, adorning his adamant features.
“you’re not wearing it,” he repeats.
“b..but wh–”
“...you’re not gonna wear it for some other guy,” he mutters. his mind seemed to travel a million miles an hour. struggling to make sense of his words, vision darting frantically in the process. instinctively, your hands move up to cup his face,
“eren, what are you saying?” your voice was so soft and soothing. your first instinct is to comfort him. to hold him and tell him that everything is going to be okay. it's always been like this. his stare shifted to your own, his face softening naturally. you affect him so easily. his mind stops for a mere second, and his thoughts which were once a jumbled mess quickly fall into a much more coherent path.
“i'm saying don't go out with him,” he speaks in one breath.
you stutter. not sure where all of this is coming from. saying you're stunned is an understatement. his raw honesty surprises you.
“stay here with me, please,” his hand rests on yours, his face seemingly leaning closer. for a moment, everything is brought to a pause, from the air around you to the very last breath leaving your lungs. it all comes crashing down in an instant. suddenly things happened all at once. he had gripped onto your waist, pressing his lips onto yours. your eyes widen and remain open as your lips are jostled to their own will. the kiss was sweet. there was so much longing behind it, you feel like you're being told a story.
eren pushed you further into the wall, his body closing the cruel short space between you both. you can practically feel his heartbeat humming against your chest. his hand staggers, raising and hesitantly landing back onto your waist. as if he didn't want to push his limits. he’s holding himself back.
you stood there stupefied, your emotions welled up on their own before you could even make sense of it all.
eren pulls away, giving your hand leeway to drop back down to your sides. his eyes are again telling you a thousand things at once.
“i have feelings for you,” is what he says but you can’t fathom that you possibly heard him right, your fingers linger on the edge of your lips, mind absent to his tangent.
“i’ve had them for a while now...i just…didn't know what to do with them. at first, i thought it was affection for you because you were my best friend, but i found myself doing things i wouldn't usually do at just the mere thought of you. i feel things i don't ever want to stop feeling…” he rambles, wanting to get the mountain of words off his chest while you’re losing focus, your mind growing dizzy from everything happening. your heart swoons and you feel your face heat up. you had no idea he felt this way about you.
“and you were gonna leave with this dress on and i couldn’t le–”
“oh, eren,” you mustered out, breathlessly. reciprocating his affection, you propel yourself onto him and he catches you effortlessly, your plump lips falling on his. he kisses you back unwavering. warm emotions flow out through his entire body from your bodily consent. he isn't super sure of how you’re feeling so he pulls away again.
“wait, are you sure?” he stares at you intently. his eyes grew hazier by the minute. scanning yours for absolute certainty. the last thing he wants to do is ruin his relationship with you.
you nod and initiate the exchange again, pulling him to your height. with your assured response, his body wastes no time. it moves in a way that neither of you can process properly. his hands slide up your legs, gripping at your supple flesh. your skin is so soft and smooth, he wants more of it.
you figure out what he wants and jump at his please, thighs intuitively wrapping around, he once again catches you without difficulty. the kiss progressed into a much more heated make-out session, his tongue prodding at yours, it slipped in easily. saliva in the clash between your mouths, signifying the yearning amongst the increasingly desired-filled air.
he carried you both towards the bed where he sat on the edge of it, continuing to explore your cushioned body. you push further into the kiss, ultimately straddling his lap as he lays flat on the mattress. he groans, hands sliding under your dress to the swells of your ass. he gropes, massages, and fondles the soft flesh. he can't get enough of you.
you guide him to the elastic underwear band, and he grasps immediately at the task, stringing the material down your legs and you two come up for air. having a mutual agreement on letting go of any remaining inhibitions that held you back, lost in the intoxicating embrace. his cold fingers graze your burning skin. you visibly shiver at his touch.
he slides himself between your thighs and warm slick greeting his prying fingers. you gasped when he began to circle your entrance, subconsciously clinging onto his shirt. his blood had already reached certain places, your subtle noises amplify it times ten. you can feel the twitching beneath you and you grind against it naturally, eren curses, bringing his hand up to have a taste of you. his eyes flicker, grappling with the effort to stay open. your face just heats up even more, embarrassment brewing deep down.
eren sucks his fingers clean before snaking back between your legs, carefully plunging into you, teasingly slow. your head lowers shamefully when there’s an audible squelch after the insertion. eren only laughs faintly. his laugh comes off as more of a breathy exhale if anything and you feel your heart and hole clench at the sound. you are lying on his chest when his free hand spreads your ass cheeks for deeper penetration. you whimper into his white t-shirt and eren is dejected from how muffled it is, urging into sliding a second finger in. you cling onto him tighter as his digits continue to work their way into stretching you open. he explores your cunt skillfully at touch, causing immense pleasure. in and out, thoroughly reaching places and sending you over the edge. your insides only get more lewd with every thrust. furthering your shame, you start to whine because of it. your intriguing sounds once again stifled by the cotton material.
this prompts eren to sit up. he adjusts you as such, fixing you snugly in his lap, your legs caging either side of him. his fingers remain plunged deep inside of you. your arms come up and rest on his shoulders, your head buried into his neck. you didn't want him to see you become his heated mess. he is well aware of your shyness but doesn't mind it too much. instead, he tries to provoke more of your sweet cries, increasing his pace as more of your essence leaves your sopping cunt.
eren suddenly clears his throat. the rumbling in his chest makes you flinch.
“were you really about to wear this dress for him?”
you almost missed it. the question was so soft, so low, you’re nearly positive that it didn't happen. you raise your head to look at him, already meeting his stare glued on you. his eyes were darker than usual. you can identify a bit of hurt behind them but the lust that stood front and center hid it all. his softened glare lingers on yours before dancing back down on your body.
you sat up tall in his longing embrace. words that you wanted to say, you couldn't even think of. your mind was boggling with pleasure, you’re not sure if you're even thinking at all. your mouth opens and closes a few times. words failing and turning into pants and whimpers. and as if to encourage you, eren smooths his hands over your ass, giving you a soothing encouragement boost.
“i– i….i d–didn’t…kn–”
hearing you try to form a proper sentence and epically fail, did something to eren. it was pathetic in a way. the tears that leaked into the corner of your eyes. the drool that stood teasingly on the edge of your bottom lip, and the constant cute moans he heard ignited something deeper. his mind too is boggled with pleasure. the pleasuring thought being you, in his veiny arms, taking his fingers like the good girl you are. one of his many desires he gets to fulfill. he was living it in this very moment. making you feel good. he couldn't wrap his head around it still but here he is, drilling his long fingers inside of you, causing a fat glob of cream to escape. he also thought you would be on the verge of tears right now or begging him to fuck you with his pretty cock that sat confined in his shorts. his balls hung heavy under his raging erection. it honestly was really achy but then again, he didn't mind it. he preferred your pleasure over his. it's always been that way.
even if the tip of his dick was oozing the sticky stuff and was ready to pounce on you at any given moment, he fights against it.
this is not about him right now. it's about him showing you how much he treasures you.
and with this, he moves his hands between your thighs at immense speed. wanting to bring you to tears from his aforementioned thought, he felt like wasn't doing too much. you lose your breath because of this, hands gripping onto his shirt tightly as you feel your stomach tie up knots. you looked down to find the cause of the sudden increase in pace. his hand moved so fast, that it resembled the look of vibrations. your eyes close shut feeling your body beginning to tense up. your toes curled and your eyes prickled from the oncoming tears. your body practically pleading for that sweet sweet release.
eren removes his hold from your ass cheek, using his now free hand to dart slow strokes onto your clit and this sends you over the edge. your body shakes on impact. your cries come to a temporary cease as your climax washes over you. eren only slows his pace by a little, wanting you to ride out your high entirely. it wasn't until you shuddered that you reached between your thighs for him to stop. he picks up your hand and places a tender kiss on the back of it. his gentle touch makes you flinch, the result of the aftershocks. he removes his other hand, laying his fingers flat on his tongue, his upper lip coming down to secure the flavor, the flavor of you. you watch him lazily, occasionally jumping. that orgasm had ripped so much of you, your eyelashes met the skin of your warm cheeks many times. you feared that you might just fall asleep in your best friend’s arms. your head dozed onto his shoulder and eren rubbed your back. a subtle praise, a good job, for you.
he can feel your short breaths on his skin. they soon become better paced, signifying that you have calmed down. your arms cling around him tighter, drowsiness eating away at your consciousness. you sigh contently. thinking about how great the night could end this way.
eren then grips the bottom of your thighs and lifts himself off the bed before placing you on it and for a moment you're sad. thinking he’s leaving after the intimate moment you two just shared. you want to stop him. ask him to stay and keep you company for a little while but don't find the energy to. instead, you ready yourself to turn over and cover yourself with the blankets when a sudden force yanks you to the end of the bed. your sleepiness almost immediately dissipates with shock.
eren stands where your feet lay, quickly lowering himself onto the ground. you sit up on your elbows and watch as he bunches your dress around your stomach, only to pull you further to the edge of the bed. his arms swiftly wrap around your thighs, letting your legs hang off his shoulder. he’s engulfed in your softness.
you open your mouth to detest anything and everything he’s about to do but you're too slow. eren’s head dips closer to your core, his tongue out to flick at your clit. you flinch, your swollen bud buzzing with sensitivity. eren sees this but doesn't care. he only goes in again and you hiss this time.
“i think i'm sensitive, you don’t have to–mmm,”
you suck on your lips when he puts your clit in his mouth. mouth enclosed on the tiny bundles of pleasure as his tongue mercilessly laps at it. you start trembling early on, your hand slapping over your mouth. it's too much. holy shit, it's too much.
the fleshy muscle works wonders along your slit. he removes his head and one of his arms momentarily, fixing two fingers to part your slick-coated folds. he’s visibly salivating before spitting onto the area. lathering it up, his touch grazing your clit ever so lightly. you wince, flipping your hand over to nibble on the skin, your other hand helplessly holding onto the edge of your dress.
he teases your cunt cruelly, the tip of his thumb moving lazily.
“i love your pussy so much,” he breathes heavily on your core. seemingly enamored with your very being. he spoke as if it wasn't his first time. he had dreamt of being between your thighs far too many times for far too long. and now here he was, cuddled up tight with your noticeably succulent writhing body above him. there's nowhere else he would rather be. he blows on your tiny nub once more before going back at it, skipping the bothersome foreplay.
you shiver when his tongue slips inside your entrance, the overstimulation beating on your body. you held back the tears that threatened to fall. you try to remove your thighs from around his head but the grip around them only tightens. your feeble attempt at pushing his head away fails, earning low groans from eren. your effort appears like you were only just guiding him rather than trying to grow distance.
“e–eren..”
you call but he’s too immersed. his eyes remained closed, head moving in a frenzied state, wanting every last drop of you. stray strands of his hair stuck onto his forehead. looking at it, his hair was a mess but it was not like you had room to speak–
his tongue repeatedly prods your leaky hole, gaining a plethora of pleasant sounds from your deserted mouth. your once busy hand was now clutched tightly onto the bedsheets. the oversensitivity turns into vast bliss, and you promptly wish he gave you more of it.
he comes up for air, “i’ve wanted this for so long,”
he dips back in and eren is so focused on you, nothing you know about because your mind is growing dizzy. you can feel your body begin to shut down with each pump, irregularly grinding your bare cunt against his face, your same hand used to push him away was now tangled in his roots. you muttered lines of gibberish, feeling that familiar warmth form in your lower stomach.
he slips back up and gives you words of encouragement.
“please yn, cum on my face,”
he says, your stomach wrenched over from how easily those words left his lips. it was so breathy yet so gentle on the ears. you wanted nothing more than to give him what he wanted. eren keeps his eyes on you, using his free hand to rub relentless circles on your clit. you continue to writhe and shake, your best friend’s name keen on your mind. he filled your entire being, as you did to him. the entire room smelt like him and he smelt like you. which he loved.
he uses his other hand and applies pressure on your lower stomach, urging an abrupt release. you call out to him raggedly, voice nearly hoarse. your body spasms and induces minor tremors everywhere. it's something you won't ever get tired of. neither will eren.
he slips his finger inside your throbbing hole, the slow, deliberate thrusts are there for easing rather than causing more of your suffering. each movement is a mixture of pleasure and pain, love and lust. and in that moment something ignites within you deep down.
you sniffle, finally coming down from your high. only to cower when you feel eren lick a fat stroke of you. your hand pushes his hair back and retracts quickly.
“sorry, it was dripping on the bed,” was all he said and you felt a flutter in your chest.
he sighs contently and stands up, heading towards your bathroom. you hear him run some water for a few minutes before he returns with a towel in hand. he doesn't say anything and squats down to his previous position, gliding the towel gently between your legs, he cleans you up fondly. his eyes hold so much affection for you.
your flushed cheeks flare up timidly and eren, who had eren watching you intently, smiles.
“you don't have to be shy around me anymore,”
“who said i was shy before?”
he quirks a brow, leaving his expression to say the rest. you glower and lay back on the mattress.
eren had left and returned, this time returning shirtless with a few articles of clothing in hand, tossing them over your face.
your attention shifted to the direction of the clothes.
“i figured you would want to sleep comfortably..” eren states the obvious.
you stare sheepishly at the choice of underwear he chose for you.
“ah…thanks,” you nod, picking up the clothes. he stands by the bed and observes your every move.
“you gonna watch me change?” you ask him.
“i mean yeah, that’s the plan,” he responds coyly.
you sat still for a moment to see if he meant what he said and he did. eren kept his stand, arms folded and everything, awaiting your next move.
you chuckle nervously and remove yourself from the bed cautiously, pulling at your dress to cover your sacred areas until you get to the restroom. eren only laughs and allows you space for your privacy.
after changing, you leave the bathroom and walk hesitantly over to eren. he lay on the left side of the bed, his back facing you. you had spent a while in there despite only going in there to change out of your dress. you had sat down on the toilet to think back on everything that happened tonight. making your mind up on certain things, you struggled for solutions for the rest. you didn't take into account how long you were in there.
“eren?” you call out meekly. your steps slowed down as you got closer to the bed. “about what you said, i–”
“it's okay yn, we can talk about it tomorrow,”
his sudden response startled you seeing how you thought he was asleep. either way, you nod and walk over to the other side of the bed. you get in, unknowingly keeping your distance.
eren tries to ease your discomfort by pulling you closer to his chest. you sigh. this act seemingly wipes all your worries away…at least for now. his embrace is the one sure thing you are sure about. you close your eyes and drift off into sleep. hoping a good night’s rest will leave your mind filled with answers tomorrow.
He carried you both towards the bed where he sat on the edge of it, continuing to explore your cushioned body. You push further into the kiss, ultimately straddling his lap as he lays flat on the mattress. He groans, hands sliding under your dress to the swells of your ass. He gropes, massages, and fondles the soft flesh. He can't get enough of you.
You guide him to the elastic underwear band, and he grasps immediately at the task, stringing the material down your legs and you two come up for air. Having a mutual agreement on letting go of any remaining inhibitions that held you back, lost in the intoxicating embrace. His cold fingers graze your burning skin. You visibly shiver at his touch.
He slides himself between your thighs. Warm slick greeting his prying fingers. You gasped when he began to circle your entrance, subconsciously clinging onto his shirt. His blood had already reached certain places. Your subtle noises amplify that times ten. You can feel the twitching beneath you and you grind against it naturally, Eren curses, bringing his hand up to have a taste of you. His eyes flicker, grappling with the effort to stay open. Your face just heats up even more, embarrassment brewing deep down.
i don't think people in gaza will have a ramadan kareem this year, they will have one though. one day, a ramadan without bombs, without death, without starvation, without pain, without war, on a free (from the river to the sea) palestine. until then, keep them in your thoughts and prayers everyday. donate if/whenever you can, keep posting/reblogging about palestine however you can.
ramadan kareem everyone. i hope it brings patience, victory and salvation to gaza. amen
blakekathryn
prguitarman
janainaart
vaporwave
turnnoffyourmind
stormborns
dededos
