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#the little seam girl
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Do you ever think about
Peeta being 5 years old on his first day of school and noticing this girl in a red plaid dress with her hair in two braids that his father points out to him. And then he sees this girl stand up on a stool and sing in front of the whole class and he notices that the birds stop to listen, just like his dad had told him they did for her father.
Peeta being 6 or 7 years old, practicing his cake icing behind the counter of the bakery. And then the father of the girl who wore the red dress comes into the bakery singing a song and Peeta raises his head to see if the birds stop to listen. And they do.
Peeta being 11 years old, standing behind his mother as she yells at that very same girl, looking hunger-stricken and so weak, for looking through their rubbish bins. Watching her as moves just a little bit away until she's behind their pigpen, leaning on their apple tree for support. Hurrying back inside and burning two loaves of good hearty bread, filled with raisins and nuts. Checking over his shoulder as he wills the crusts to blacken faster. Feeling his mother deliver a blow to his cheek with a burning hot tool, falling to the floor. Being told to go out and give the blackened bread to the pigs but waiting until his mother has gone back inside to throw the bread to the girl. Going back inside and watching as she takes it and hurries away. Seeing the girl at school the next day and wanting to catch her eye, waiting and waiting for her to meet his eyes. But the one time she does, she looks away quickly, towards a dandelion, smiles and plucks it from the ground.
Peeta being 12, 13, 14, 15 years old, finding himself constantly sneaking glances at the girl. Wanting desperately to go over to her, talk to her, see if he could make her smile. He sees her watching him back. But then he shakes his head and tells himself to knock it off. Plus she seems to be with that older boy a lot.
Peeta being 16 years old. Staring at the floor until he hears her sister's name. Feels the air go out of him when he sees her push through the crowd and volunteer. Fixing his eyes on her, watching her stand up there, heading far far away from him. Oh, how he wishes he would have talked to her when they had had time. So lost in his thoughts of her that he almost misses his own name being called out. Feels the eyes on him, a pair that must belong to her too, following him as he makes his way to join her on the stage. Shaking her hand and hoping she knows he chooses her.
Peeta being 16 years old, in the games. Deciding that she can win, she can survive, she must live. Letting the whole of Panem know his feelings for her. Choosing to join the Careers to lead them away from her. Choosing to save her even if it means getting his leg slashed by Cato. Finding a place to conceal himself, hoping death comes sooner rather than later. Hoping she's okay, that she's made it. Listening out for cannons and watching the sky, hoping she doesn't appear, as he bleed outs. Hears the rule change one evening and cries, because it's too late now for him.
Peeta being 16 years old and she's found him. She's called out his name and she's found him. And she's helping him. He's struggling and dying and weak, a hindrance more than a help, but she stays by him constantly, watching him closely like she's done for years but now it's up close. And soon she's kissing him and though he's tired and draining all the time, this sets off a spark in him that makes him feel alive. Joking with her, teasing her, sleeping with her curled up against him, hearing her laugh at his jokes, feeling her touch and reaching out to mirror her touches, kissing her. And soon his crush, this care he's felt for this girl, develops into feelings that are stronger, feelings that feel a lot like love. And they talk and they talk. She risks her life trying to get the medicine that will save him and he realises he completely underestimated her.
Peeta being 16 years old and a victor. But he's not the only one. She's right there beside him and he can't believe his luck. Hope. Love. The future lies out ahead of them. But then something is wrong. Haymitch tells them to keep it up until they're back but he doesn't realise there's anything to keep up. Finding out that there was something a bit too shiny and sparkling about these last few weeks. Something not completely real. Feeling something horrible twist inside him. Letting go of this girl and taking a step back, because something hurts deep in his chest.
Peeta being 17 years old, going about his days back in Twelve. Painting, fending off nightmares with a paintbrush, walking by her house everyday, noticing when the lights are on or off in her bedroom. Then they're going on a victory tour and the feelings he's tried to cover up with bakery bread and painted canvases and set alight again because there she is, holding his hand on stage, kissing him at times where he even doesn't anticipate it, smiling up at him in a way that ties his stomach into a million different knots. At night he hears her screaming and runs into her room. Whispers to her til she's conscious, holds her until she's calm in his arms and slips into her bed to hold her until they fall asleep. His own nightmares stay away, their interwoven limbs creating a barrier against them.
Peeta being 17 years old, spending every day in her glow. They're friends now. She might not have chosen him but he can't make himself stay away now, not now that she needs him. Listening to her ideas, wanting to run away with her. Talking to her on the phone. Baking her cheese buns and carrying her up and down stairs. Still holding her while she sleeps. Painting pictures for her family book. Sitting with her in the quiet, feeling her breath close to him. Looking up and smiling at her furrowed brows. Catching her look at him all the time.
Peeta being 17 years old, going back into the games. Making her train, choosing her again. Withdrawing because she has to win. She has to. But seeing her, weary and tired, a mirror of himself, he can't help but open his arms to her, feel her warmth beneath him. And it only furthers his resolve. Fighting, fighting, fighting. Always to make sure she makes it out alive. Feels her mirror his love, his kisses, his touches. And one night, he loses her. He can hear her but he can't see her. And then everything changes.
Peeta being 17 years old, living in a world where shiny images fight their way against other images that are matte in his memory. She's far away now, he's not sure where. But he knows she's alive. Why else would they torture him and the people around him. And he always says he doesn't know, knowing what it will mean. But he'd still suffer those same consequences even if he knew what they needed. Still needing to protect her.
Peeta being 17 years old and here she is in front of him. But his head roars at the sight of her and he doesn't know why. She's anxious and weak and damaged, but the alarms are going off in his head. The shininess takes over in this new setting. And he doesn't know why, but he knows something is very wrong. They take him away then. Try to undo something that needs to be undone.
Peeta being 17 years old, not sure which way is up and which way is down. But he sees her, watches her. And then he's sent off on a mission with her. This girl that consumes his every thought, on both sides of the war that's going on in his head and he doesn't know what to do. The shiny and his memory are still fighting, and it leaves him so tired. Seeing her, hearing her speak brings memories out of the recesses of his mind. He starts to piece together a puzzle that's been scattered in his mind. Feeling feelings that he once felt in his chest. Real or not real? Green. Orange. The colour of her dress. Cheese buns. Lamb stew in their den. Because that's what you and I do. Protect each other. Knowing it's true and knowing he must.
Peeta being 18 years old, coming back to Twelve after the war. For her. Seeing primroses growing and digging them up, bringing them to her house. Planting them for her. Seeing her again, weary and tired and broken. But she's here. And so is that feeling in his chest that was buried under shiny images that he has since ripped up and discarded. Walking with her through town. Having meals with her, making sure she has cheese buns. Seeing her start to smile again. Climbing into bed with her so that they can create that barrier again, the one that holds off their nightmares. Tentatively kissing her and feeling that fire rage again.
Peeta in his late 30s, watching Katniss lay out a picnic basket in the meadow. Seeing the sunlight fall against her hair and skin, making them shine in a way he knows is real. See the dancing girl weave around the items Katniss lays out. Laughs as the boy with the chubby legs tries to keep up. Walks over to them with the freshly baked cheese buns and sets them down in the space she's left vacant. Feels her smile trained on him before he turns his head to see it. Kisses her softly and breaks away laughing as the dark-haired girl covers her eyes and the blonde boy looks between them. Sits down as Katniss lays her head in his lap. While their children eat cheese buns and make up games in the grass, they sit there in the sunshine, taking it all in. Katniss makes a flower crown using the dandelions growing around her while Peeta runs runs his hand through her hair. He looks down into her eyes just as she tilts her head back to look at him. Knowing that they don't need to freeze this moment.
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stuckinapril · 2 months
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#I’m only very rarely inclined to get this intimate w my thoughts so I might as well say it NOW butttt I will never not see the dead children#In everything I do#Like legit#I’ve read up on Hind so extensively and seen so many photos of her#And I have a very healthy relationship w the popular Palestinian journalists so she’s not my blorbo or anything#But hearing that memo destroyed me bc bisan is only 23 and she seemed so vivacious#Idk like I do normal people things I can’t just pause on my life#But idk how it feels like to sit at a boba place and enjoy my pearl milk tea w my friends#While the horrors over there don’t just lurk the back of my mind. I do normal things and I’m guilty for having the luxury#And as an Iraqi girl I’m living in the literal ideal timeline#Where my mom decided to immigrate to the us and that’s why I’m here living a normal life like everyone else#It’s like in a different world if I were born in a different time it could’ve so easily been me. I’m one of the Lucky Ones idk#It’s not survivor’s guilt bc it’s not like I had to survive anything like I never had the chance to live in Iraq or anything#But like. If some things had fallen just a little differently#And I keep thinking about how I’d feel if it were happening to Iraq and people behaved the way they’re doing to Palestinians#I’d be so mad#And some people on here are dealing w assholes while bursting at the seams w grief#For losing their loved ones#This is why I’m so fucking angry at anyone who’s complicit#This was a major tangent but basically I feel weird about doing normal things now while simultaneously knowing I can’t just sit and wallow#And watch life pass by as if it’ll do anything#Misery is not a home but I’m struggling to be 100% normal#And I think that this tonal dissonance is reflecting on my blog too bc I can’t go back to just#Posting about all the other normal things I used to. Like I want to but sometimes I feel off.#Is this anything. I haven’t slept all night#I can’t just allow myself to lose interest in everything I used to like and be and just fade away but maybe it’s about accepting that this#Will also always be a part of me now. It’s that awareness that shadows everything I do#or maybe I need a therapist it’s a toss up#I’ll probably feel better once I get my day started but this was cathartic to voice I think#p
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aw-colorcat · 6 days
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If you get out of bed/ and see me standing all alone/ open-eyed/ burn the page, my little dark age
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pcktknife · 1 year
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I really did not give a fuck about spamton until he had some sort of connection to noelle lmao
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maretriarch · 10 months
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something i really wanna get better at drawing is things/objects/people touching/interacting which sounds very simple to do but i mean like. both from like an objective artistic skill standpoint of drawing for example hands grasping an object and the way skin will bend and push in and is effected by pressure and gravity but also the way it "feels" emotionally.... like you can draw two characters with their arms around each other and that's a hug but there's also the anatomy and perspetive which is all technical and hard and its own right but theres ALSO the way their hands lay and expressions are that make it look and FEEL like a hug. My arts suffered for many many years of Character Standing In Void Itis and while itll still take a gun to get me to draw a goddamn living room or a table its rlly hard to get past that like. bland sterile unfeeling uninspired untactical feel even if you DO draw a character doing something, somewhere interacting with objects. maybe i just need to learn how shadows work.
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sovaharbor · 6 months
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drinking chamomile tea for the first time thoughts and prayers appreciated because this is a moment of desperation and i find myself mildly worried it shall backfire on me
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depresseddepot · 1 year
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PEOPLE PUT CHARMS ON DOC MARTENS????
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arthur-r · 2 years
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hi so this started as a life update and then turned into a major vent and i am very sorry so i am putting it under a cut. content warning for medical stuff and surgery and also college and also generally being upset
oh hey arthur update the medical issues i’ve been vaguing about for the past like week are officially not life threatening or anything and will be getting resolved in a surgery this tuesday. so recovering from that will be a super fun way to spend the last three weeks leading into my senior year, which i really badly overbooked with babysitting nearly every day and working my pizza job extra hours, both of which jobs are the kind where just calling in sick for one day causes actual problems for real people in ways that other jobs maybe wouldn’t. so i’m taking off both my jobs on the actual day of the surgery but otherwise i’m just. powering through it all
#starting on monday i’m taking on a whole other family to babysit on top of everything else!! wasn’t planning on a surgery in the midst#on the bright side maybe the money i make from the extra work will maybe possibly kinda sorta make a dent in the fees for all the#surgery and appointment costs even my fifteen minute visit at the cvs pharmacy cost a hundred freaking dollars#so umm let’s hope that the working i’ve been doing this summer amounts to a little more than just. not being in debt#also the family i babysit for hasn’t texted me back after i told them i had to schedule the surgery during a time i was supposed to be#babysitting. and i think they will understand but i feel terrible because they’re supposed to be able to count on me#and i also don’t want them to know i have a surgery because then they will ask me questions and i want my relationship with this family#to start and end with how i do puzzles with their kids. i don’t want to talk to them about scary personal stuff#plus what if they try to send me a care package or something they think i’m a cis girl named ari they wouldn’t know they have to be discreet#and i don’t want people irl to know about the surgery before it happens because then they’ll ask to see it and i don’t want them to see it#because at work i’ve been wearing a mask and nobody knows i’ve had a potentially cancerous growth for a freaking month#and anyway it’s not cancer or anything it’s just my stupid macrophages but i don’t want people to see it or talk to me about it until it’s#gone. in other news my older sister starts college on monday at the local community college that i will probably go to despite my efforts#so. no anxiety here tonight why in the world would i be terrified about anything right now what are you talking about how could there ever#(/s)#i sincerely hope everyone here is doing okay. i am sorry for kind of venting but i have been holding this stuff in a little bit too long#two people total outside from me and my family know what’s going on and i’m not looking to have any more irls find out#but i am bursting at the seams and a little bit terrified. not to mention the stupid college everything piling up on me right now it’s just#a little bit much. anyway the medical world is ridiculous and stupid and if i have to be on hold with one more surgeons office i will cry#and i’m just kind of here. i’ll put a thing at the top so that nobody has to read this. and trigger warnings and everything#and i really hope everyone is okay i am sorry for being a little too much right now#vent tw#medical tw#ask to tag#anyway i’m going to bed really soon i just. really really needed to yell about how much everything is. even if it’s going to get fixed#me. my post. mine.#delete later
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pro-crastinate17 · 2 months
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hiiii i feel icky :3
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bi-writes · 11 days
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thinking about being the new addition to tf141. you are an asset given to laswell by the CIA, a timid little thing but your aim is always on target, and you are quiet, tech savvy, and you do as you're told. (18+, dark)
just how lieutenant riley prefers. he dwarfs you. the first time you meet, your eyes nearly come out of your head from how wide they go. he's so large, and you feel so tiny compared to him, and even though he does nothing but a disinterested once over, it is obvious to the rest of the team that you might just be his favorite.
it's most obvious in the subtle touches. when you're getting ready to jump, ghost comes up from behind and tugs on your parachute, nearly topping you over making sure it's secure. when you're getting ready in the back of the humvee, he reaches over and buckles your thigh holster for you when he notices the strap is coming loose. you nearly choke when you feel his big hand between your thighs, and you stare up at him with wide eyes when his pinkie moves up the seam of your zipper when he tugs his hand away.
and then the way he's on your six is unlike anything else. like glue, chest pressed to your back, his gloved hand squeezing your waist as he moves you every which way he pleases because you're so small to him, so easy, and he growls under his breath when he touches the curve of your hips or the fat of your ass.
maybe you might enjoy it if he wasn't so fucking awkward about it. if he didn't stare at you without blinking. if he didn't adjust his cock in his jeans right in front of you. if he didn't grip you by the back of your head, tugging you any way he wanted as if scolding a kitten using the scruff of their neck.
you think the team would notice by now--that they would step in, tell ghost to back off, but they turn a blind eye. they tolerate this behavior, and you don't know if it's because ghost is so good at his job, they don't want to, or that they are so afraid of him, they refuse to say anything.
or maybe they approve. maybe it keeps ghost at bay. maybe it keeps a lion in his den. a spider in its nest. maybe indulging ghost in his fucked form of flirting and socialization is what keeps the foundations of this team right where it needs to be--and you realize, slowly, that maybe that is why you're here.
because ghost likes them soft, and they need to put a muzzle on their dog.
so when you feel him in the dark, slipping a gloved hand under the blanket that keeps you warm at night, he is pleasantly surprised to find you awake. and even more surprised to feel your hand slipping the soft lace of your panties right into his fucking pocket.
"they teach y'that 'n basic training? how ta give y'r knickers to y'r lieutenant, eh?"
"no," you whisper, and when you meet his eyes in the dark, he looks so hungry. he's untamed, no training, he's used to getting what he wants with no resistance. you turn over in bed, and you don't get to see the way he sucks on his teeth when you let your knees fall, revealing the pretty place between your thighs, soft and puffy and wet, just waiting for a good mutt to eat her up. "but i learned other things."
"tha' right?"
"yeah," you say softly, and you turn over onto your stomach, pushing back onto your knees right in front of him. he bends, leaning over until he's pushing his masked face right into the seam of your cunt, and you grip the sheets tight when he inhales deeply, a rumble following as both of his hands grip either side of your ass and spread you open for him. you're drooling, wetting the nylon fabric, and you gasp when you feel the wet, warm muscle of his tongue suck on your folds through the mask. it's lewd, and you're wetting the material so much it sticks to the strong lines of his face, but he continues, tilting his head to the side as he laps at the pretty slick that dampens your thighs.
"what'd y'learn then, swee'eart?"
not how to fuck your lieutenant. but...you did learn to keep them happy.
"h-how to be a good girl."
and you think you feel him smile.
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ieirism · 7 months
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crybaby.
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pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader
setting: modern au
genre: smut and fluff
contains: brother’s best friend gojo, protective older brother geto, use of pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart), unprotected sex, slightly mean gojo (but he ends up soft and sweet, I promise), dirty talk, overstimulation, mutual pining, dacryphilia, oral (f receiving), cheesy and happy ending <3
summary: satoru had promised suguru that there'd be no funny business while he takes care of his heartbroken baby sister... but he's never been the greatest at keeping promises.
“Stop being so mean to her, Satoru.” Satoru looks over at his best friend, who's clicking his tongue in disapproval, with a nonchalant grin.
“Not my fault she’s such a crybaby, Suguru.”
“Come on.” Suguru shoots him a warning look. “That’s my little sister you're talking about.”
“Hey, hey,” Satoru laughs, raising his hands in mock defense. “You gotta teach her how to grow thicker skin. Not my problem.”
“Every time you come over, she ends up crying.” The black-haired man sighs. “Don’t be a jerk just for one moment, won’t you?”
“Mmh, no promises.” Satoru grins. Sue him, he’s simply too addicted to the way your face scrunches up indignantly whenever he teases you, the futile yet endearing clenching of your small fists at your side, and most of all, the uncontrollable blubbers that leave your lips as tears roll down your cheeks.
Years later, you’re still the same. Just a little crybaby coming apart at the seams, completely at Gojo Satoru’s mercy.
-
“S-Satoru…” The high-pitched whine of his name only elicits a laugh from the man between your legs, sending shock waves of pleasure shooting through your body.
“Baby, you gotta stop movin’ so much.” Satoru’s large hands grip your thighs, holding them firmly in place as he continues to feast on your dripping pussy. “Gotta let me eat you properly.” He punctuates his point with a loud suck on your clit that has you mewling and twitching under his hold.
“T-Too much!” You sob, hands curling into the silky white stands on his head, tugging uselessly. “S’too much, S-Satoru…”
“You wanna take my cock later, princess?” He hums against your cunt, licking a hot stripe up your slit, chuckling as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. His gaze lazily travels upwards, greeted with the sight of you nodding furiously as tears stream down your cheeks.
“Yes,” you plead with wide, teary eyes. “N-need you.” Satoru smirks.
“Then be a good girl and let me prep you,” he coos, before diving right back between your folds, enjoying the broken sob that leaves your lips as he draws zigzags across your swollen clit.
-
“I really don’t understand you,” Suguru bristles, frustration evident by the way his eyebrows furrow as he eyes Satoru.
“Hmm?” Satoru looks at him with feigned innocence. “Whatever could you be talking about, dear Suguru?”
“You’re unbelievable.” He sighs. “Those gifts you bought her… they’re worth almost a million yen. What the hell is wrong with you, really.”
“Well, you told me I made her cry.” The white-haired man shrugged. “I had to make up for it, didn’t I?” Suguru squints suspiciously, at a brief loss for words.
“...You are not normal,” he finally scoffs.
“Of course not,” Satoru agrees, unfazed.
“You can’t keep doing this. You’re gonna end up spoiling her.”
“And what’s so bad about that?”
-
“Gimme another one, baby.” He’s faintly aware that if he makes you cum again, you really might pass out. However, he can’t really bring himself to be too concerned about that, not when he’s quickly becoming addicted to the taste of your dripping cunt and cries of pleasure.
“C-Can’t, I can’t — “ You sob, entire body shaking around his mouth; you’re so sensitive.
“You can,” he insists between hungry slurps, not letting any of your arousal go to waste. “Fuck…” You’re so sweet. Just how did he survive this long without having a taste of you?
“Please…” You’re still shy, trying your best to stifle your cries even as they fall in a steady stream from your trembling lips. Each loud squelch of your sopping pussy still has you cringing a little, not to mention the embarrassment that washes over you every time you catch a glimpse of your juices all over Satoru’s face.
“Don’t hold back anymore, sweetheart.” He reaches up to grab your wrists, pulling them away from your mouth even as you blubber out a weak protest. “Wanna hear you this time, say it loud. Say my name when you cum.” One more combined thrust of his fingers, deep into your hole with a flick of his tongue across your clit has you creaming on his lips for the fourth time.
“S-Satoru!” You’re unable to control the beautifully loud whine of his name as Satoru greets your orgasm eagerly, savoring every last drop of your release on his tongue.
-
“You made her cry again.” Suguru says, rolling his eyes as he approaches his best friend at their meeting spot.
“Huh?” Satoru raises a brow. “Haven’t even seen her since two weeks ago. What’d I do?”
“She’s sad you’re moving away.” Suguru tuts. “Can’t imagine why. Probably because she won’t be able to use you for your wallet anymore.”
“You implyin’ I’m just a wallet to her?” Satoru exclaims, a little offended. The black-haired man shoots him a deadpan glare.
“You know you’re not. But even you’re not enough of an asshole to use that against her.”
“It’s just college,” Satoru muses. “Kid thinks I won’t be back for her?”
“In two years she’ll be going off to college too.” Suguru shrugs. “She’ll get over you.”
“What a cruel thing to say.” Satoru laughs it off, ignoring the small flicker of jealousy that flares to life deep in his chest.
-
Satoru watches as your chest heaves up and down, in your effort to try to recover from the multiple orgasms he had just given you. You’re lying limp on your bed, unable to move save for the periodic twitching of your thighs.
“Sorry, princess, was that too much?” He’s teasing, but there’s a genuine edge of concern to his voice as he cups your cheek in his hand. You nod, a few tears falling down your face. “Aww, forgive me. You’ll forgive me, right?” In response, you tug weakly on his shirt collar, asking him to come closer. He relents, allowing you to drag him down towards you. Satoru’s about to ask what you need, before you suddenly tilt your head upwards to kiss him.
Satoru lets out a small noise of surprise as your soft lips press against his, hesitant at first, but deepening once your fingers find further purchase in his shirt, gripping tightly. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you up into his lap.
You kiss him a little clumsily, still boneless from your release but Satoru doesn’t mind. Doesn’t mind at all, of course, when your lips are so soft against his, and he can swallow every quiet whimper that escapes you.
“Satoru…” Your voice is raspy and small, but your eyes are wild as you cling helplessly to him. “A-Am… Am I ready yet?” His jaw goes slack in awe at the adorable, troubled expression on your face. Your lips are swollen into a permanent pout now as you look up at him with those wide doe eyes that always had him weak.
“...Think you are,” he heaves, realizing that he’s just as fucked out as you are. It takes everything in him to hold back the urge to just take you.
-
“She’s grown up.” Satoru raises his eyebrows in pleasant surprise at the pictures that Suguru shows him. Your family had recently gone on vacation, so Suguru had been gone for an entire week, leaving his best friend and roommate all alone.
“That’s what you’re looking at?” Suguru shoots him an annoyed look.
“Oh,” says Satoru, glancing back at the picture. “Uh, nice waterfall.”
“One of the seven natural wonders of the world and all you can see is my baby sister.” Suguru exhales deeply.
“What? You can’t blame me too much. Kid’s changed,” the white-haired man shoots defensively.
“She’s twenty, not sixteen anymore. Of course, she’s changed.” Suguru pinches the bridge of his nose. 
“I know that, I just…” Satoru pauses, glancing back at the picture. You’re still tiny, only reaching up to your brother’s, and by extension his, chest. Your face has matured, though, baby fat gone from your cheeks. That didn’t stop you from being any less adorable, though — your smile is as radiant as ever. He can’t help but let a small smile of his own slip onto his face.
“Hopeless,” Suguru mutters in disbelief. “Hopeless, the both of you.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
-
Satoru lets you unbutton his shirt, watching in amusement as your eyes narrow with focus as each button pops open, slowly revealing more and more of his skin.
“Um…” You’re nervous. It’s plain as day from the way your lip wobbles as your eyes sweep down the view of his chiseled chest and torso, only to end at the prominent bulge in his slacks.
“You sure you’re okay with this, princess?” He cups your chin in his hand, gently tilting your face to look straight at him. “Need to rest?”
“N-No!” You protest immediately, shaking your head. “I…” You glance back down at his erection, a flicker of desire in your eyes. “I need…” You trail off, unable to say it.
“Okay.” If he was feeling meaner, he would make you tell him exactly what you want. But he wants to be nice today, especially since you’ve already cried so much for him. “Okay, baby. Don’t worry, you’ll have it. Can you unzip me? Can you do that for me?” You hesitate for a moment. Satoru briefly wonders if he’s perhaps pushed you a bit too hard.
But then you’re reaching for him, small hands finding the top of his pants and slowly undoing the button. Your fingers close around his zipper, slowly tugging it down.
“Good girl.” He pecks your forehead. “Take me out of my boxers, alright?” As his angry, swollen cock springs free from his underwear, you can’t contain your gasp.
“Oh…” The soft sound leaves you almost involuntarily as you stare and wonder at how the hell that’s gonna fit in you. He’s thick and long, rock hard and dripping with pre-cum. You slowly wrap your own hand around his cock, lips parting as your fingers fail to meet in the middle. Your own pussy clenches in a combination of fear and excitement.
“See why I needed to prepare you, now?”
-
“Sorry to spring this onto you all of a sudden, especially since you just got into town.” Suguru sighs over the phone.
“Don’t worry about it. If you’re not around to take care of her, duty falls on me,” says Satoru as he reverses his car out of the parking lot, heading to the location Suguru had sent him.
“Let me know when she’s home safe. Tell her I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Yeah, will do.”
A pause.
“And… no funny business, got it?”
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
“I’m serious, Satoru. She just confronted her asshole cheater ex. She doesn’t need you drooling all over her right now.”
“Relax, dude. I’m not that desperate.” Satoru rolls his eyes.
“Good. Keep it that way.”
-
His conversation with Suguru lies in the back of his mind, forgotten, as Satoru places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Lay back and relax for me, sweetheart.” You immediately obey, laying yourself down on your bed, heart beating fast in anticipation.
“S’gonna hurt, right?” you ask softly.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve gotten you ready, see?” Satoru comforts you, brushing his fingers against the wetness still soaking your entrance.
“Oh.” Tears suddenly well in your eyes. “Um, s-sorry, it just always hurt with him…”
“What?” Satoru’s eyes darken, unsure if you mean what he thinks you do.
“He just…” You bite your lip, trying not to let your tears fall. “H-He just p-put it in, y’know?” His heart drops in his stomach. Two years, two whole fucking years with that asshole, and he had never given you proper foreplay? No wonder you were so sensitive and responsive to his touch, your body had never received the attention it’s always deserved.
“Baby.” Satoru squeezes your hand, fighting down the urge to find that asshole and beat him up. That could come later. Right now, he has to focus on you. “It’s not gonna be that way this time. Not with me. Okay?” You nod, squeezing his hand in return.
“O-Okay.”
-
It’s the first time he’s seen you in person in four years, and here you are in the passenger seat of his car, crying your eyes out.
You feel absolutely humiliated. You had called Suguru to ask him to pick you up from your ex-boyfriend’s house after you dumped him, but he had told you he couldn’t.
“I’ll send someone to get you. Hang tight,” he’d said.
You just didn’t know it was going to be Gojo Satoru, who hadn’t returned to your hometown since he graduated high school.
“I’m gonna bring you home,” Satoru had told you, getting out of the driver’s seat to open the car door for you. “Relax, okay? You’re safe now.” He had buckled your seatbelt for you before settling in himself, starting the engine without another word.
The car ride back to your house is silent, save for the continuous sniffles that wrack your body as you try your best to stop your tears. Satoru silently puts a box of tissues in your lap at some point, and your heart stutters at the action.
You’ve known for many years now, that you never got over your first love.
-
Clothes fully discarded, Satoru lowers himself on top of you, enamored with the way you shyly glance down at`his cock, gaze wavering for a moment before slowly looking back up at him, eyes begging for him to do something.
“Tell me if you want to stop.” He brushes his fingers, tender and gentle, across your cheek. You nod, hand curling around his bicep.
“Kiss me,” you request, and he gladly obliges, leaning down to peck your lips.
“M’gonna go slow,” he tells you. “You want me to stop, hit me real hard — “ He smacks his own chest. “ — Right here. Got it?”
“I won’t,” you say bravely, eyes glimmering with determination. “I… I can take it.” Satoru laughs quietly.
“Alright, princess. Don’t act all cute, you’re just rilin’ me up now.” You smile, a little mischievously.
“Oh, you caught me.”
“Fuck…” Satoru groans, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re gonna kill me.” His fat tip taps against your clit once, twice. You gasp, eyes going glossy as you feel your swollen pussy clench desperately around nothing.
“Satoru,” you plead. “P-Please…”
“I’ll give you what you need. Relax for me…” He aligns his tip with your entrance, prodding between your folds. Inch by inch, he sinks his cock into your warm, throbbing cunt, almost blacking out himself at the sensation of your tight, velvety walls clamping around his cock.
“A-Ah…!” You whine, gripping his bicep and squeezing your eyes shut. The stretch is almost too much, but the delicious sensation of being filled to the brim has you seeing stars.
“You okay?” Satoru pants, willing himself to stop from splitting you open on his cock to check on you.
“Yes,” you whimper. “Yes, a-ah, please k-keep going…” Satoru rests his head in the crook of your neck as he continues to push himself in, enjoying the soft, labored whimpers as you take more and more of him, deep into your sopping hole.
“Almost there,” he coos. “Almost there, princess…” After what feels like an eternity, he finally sheaths the last of him in you, biting at your shoulder as he finally, finally feels exactly the sensation of being one with you.
-
“Drink. You’ll feel better.” Satoru places a glass of water in your hand as he leads you to your living room couch. You stubbornly refuse to look at him, letting the glass sit uselessly in your hand as you stare down at your lap.
He sighs, not sure what he should do. He’s never been good at comforting others, let alone his friends’ kid sisters. He knows you’re not a kid anymore, you’re a full grown adult, but the way you’re sulking and ignoring him says otherwise. Still, his fondness for you wins above all else as he takes the water back and puts it on the coffee table, letting you sit in silence.
”You gonna be okay by yourself?” he asks instead. Satoru doesn’t want to leave you alone, but he’s not sure if his presence will even help. He hasn’t been an active part of your life in years, and he has a feeling that this incredibly vulnerable moment isn’t the best time to barge back in. You don’t reply, twiddling your thumbs.
“Call me if you need anything,” Satoru says hesitantly. “You have my number, right?” No response. “I’m gonna write it down for you.” He finds a spare stack of Post-Its and does just that. You don’t react even when he sticks the note right on top of your forehead, in a shitty attempt to lighten your mood. Your deadpan glare, so much like your brother’s tells him it did not work.
“Suguru’s gonna be back tomorrow,” he tells you, taking the note off and soothing the annoyed crease between your eyebrows. “Go get some rest now, yeah?” You look away. Satoru sighs. Seeing you upset like this hurts him way more than he would like to admit. “M’gonna leave. Get to bed soon.” He pats the top of your head, just like he always used to do, which always made you whine when he messed up your hair. You’re quiet now, not a peep of complaint leaving you.
He really misses hearing your voice.
“Bye, then.” Satoru’s about to turn around and leave, but you do something that seems to shock both of you. Your fingers curl and grab onto the hem of his collared shirt, stopping him in his tracks. He stares down at you in surprise, trying to process the sight of your small, thin fingers holding onto him for dear life.
“Stay.” The one word was enough to crumble his self-control.
-
You’re struggling to adjust to his size; he can tell from the way you’re digging your nails into his arm and the trembling of your thighs around his waist. Satoru stays still, waiting for your permission to go any further, right hand rubbing soothing circles on your hip.
“Don’t stress yourself, baby, just tell me what you want, when you want it,” he murmurs against your neck, waiting patiently, torturously, for permission to move.
You’re so overwhelmed by the sensation of being stuffed full; Satoru is much bigger than your ex-boyfriend and yet, the feeling isn’t painful. It’s so good, a throbbing ache that extends outwards from your core all the way to the top of your head and the tip of your toes. You can hardly form thoughts, let alone words, as your pussy stretches around him, trying to accommodate the sheer size of his cock.
A few more moments pass, and you feel like you’re going crazy. The feeling of being so, so full is one that you’ve never felt before, but you think you’re already addicted. Your thighs flex instinctively, closing tighter around Satoru’s waist and pushing his cock even deeper, pressing right against your sweet spot. You mewl, wrapping your arms around his neck, silently begging to be closer to him.
Satoru leans into the kiss you give him, groaning as your walls suddenly clench once around him, brain filling with nothing but white noise. “Fuck,” he grits out against your lips.  “Fuck, baby, I don’t know how much longer — “
“Move.” Your command is quiet. Satoru almost wonders if he’s misheard you. But one look into your pleading, begging eyes confirms what you want. Unable to hold back any longer, he pulls his hips upwards, snapping right back into you with one long, hard thrust. You cry out, nails sinking into his shoulder blades.“M-More,” you whisper. “Need more.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice.
-
Satoru’s at a loss for words and actions as you stood on your tiptoes, reaching up and bringing his head down to kiss him. His arms instinctively wrap around your waist to steady you, craning his neck to allow you better access — oh shit, what the hell is he doing?
He lets go of you like he’s touched something on fire, pulling back from the kiss. As your heels land back on the ground with a soft thud, he’s greeted by the sight of you looking like you’re about to cry again. “Wait — “ He reaches for you, but retracts his hand; he’s not sure if he can trust himself to stay in line. His heart is beating so fast, you had just kissed him, completely out of the blue.
Satoru knew about your crush on him when the two of you were younger. You started having feelings for him when you were thirteen and he was fifteen, making it painfully obvious. You followed him and Suguru around like a lost puppy whenever he came over, despite Satoru’s constant teasing.
He thought your actions were funny at first, becoming the root of his continued teasing. Despite still making you cry all the time, you always came right back to greet him with a smile upon his very next visit. After a while, Satoru looked at you with fondness, in the way that one would gaze at a small animal. You were harmless, sweet, and so very adorable.
Satoru didn’t return your feelings at the time. You were just Suguru’s kid sister that he liked to toy with sometimes. You were awfully cute when you were mad.
But now, as you look up at him with desperation and longing, his heart clenches faintly in his chest. You’re so, so beautiful — the pictures Suguru had showed him hadn’t done you justice in the slightest. You somehow look so enchantingly gorgeous at this moment, even with tears glistening in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks.
Would you hit him if he tried to wipe away your tears?
He never gets to find out, because you speak his name softly, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Satoru leans down to carefully listen to what you have to say. “W-Want you.”
-
“So good, so fuckin’ good for me, princess,” Satoru groans, reveling in the dizzying heat of your pussy as he drags his cock in and out of your walls, fucking you at a steady pace. “You feel me in there? You feel me in your little cunt?”
“Y-Yes,” you manage to sob out between moans, each rough snap of his hips into you melting your brain into jelly just a little more. 
“What a perfect lil pussy,” He chuckles as you squeal after a rather rough thrust, the loud squelch of your hole sucking him in echoing through the room. “No sane person in this world would ever give this up this tight wet cunt.” You whine at his filthy words, drool dripping out of the side of your mouth as Satoru continues to ram into you, faster, harder.
“Satoru!” You’re crying out his name over and over, legs wrapped firmly around his waist, pushing him deeper and deeper. “S-Satoru, I-I — “
“You likin’ this, baby? Tell me how much you like this,” he coos into your ear, hand reaching down to rub at your swollen clit.
“I l-like it s-so much, i-it’s so ahh…! I-it’s so good,” you sob out. You never thought sex could feel like this — you never understood why the people around you were so obsessed with it, especially with the treatment you received from your ex.
Now, though, as each rut of Satoru’s dick into your cunt kisses your sweet spot, you get it. You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to forget this feeling of being filled by cock so brutally sweet.
-
“Hold on.” Satoru had tried to protest, he really had. You’d just broken up with your boyfriend. Like Suguru said, the last thing you needed was any funny business. “Listen — “ He sighs out your name, making your bottom lip wobble. “You have to go rest, don’t be reckless.”
“Please.” You tug at his sleeve, staring at him with that puppy-eyed look that always gets you what you want. He really had spoiled you, hadn’t he?
“Not now,” he tried to reason with you. “You’re still hurting, you’re not in the right mind.” You glare at him.
“Who’re you to say m’not in the right mind?” you whine. “I…” You suddenly seem to lose your confidence, staring down at the floor. “...I only ever wanted you.”
“What?” Satoru stares, wide-eyed, at your confession.
“Know you don’t want me that way,” you continue, voice small. “But I… don’t care.” You sniffle. “Don’t care, Satoru. Just want you.”
And when you tug desperately at his shirt again, this time, Satoru is too far gone.
-
“Fuck, I’m close.” He growls into your neck, his pace picking up as he chases after his release, He coaxes you to join him, thumbing at your clit and cooing for you to “Let go, cum for me, c’mon. Cream all over my cock, princess.”
The only sounds in the room are a symphony of your moans and the slick sounds of his cock pushing in and out of your hole as a coil forms deep in your gut, threatening to snap at any moment. You feel tears stain your cheeks as Satoru’s pace increases, pounding into you so deep you can practically feel him in your throat.
“S-Satoru, I’m g-gonna — !” You cut yourself off with a loud, lewd moan, cunt clenching down hard around him as you come undone for the fifth time just this night. You swear you lose consciousness for a second, lost in the euphoric feeling of your release as your swollen pussy throbs in satisfaction.
“Shit..“ A few quick, shallow thrusts later, Satoru finishes as well, thick ropes of cum splurting into your womb, filling you with a warm sensation.
“A-Ah…” you whimper out, pussy fluttering weakly around his softening cock, which is still fully sheathed inside you. A white ring remains on his dick as he gently pulls himself off of you, cum dripping from your spent pussy onto the sheets. Satoru tuts, placing a pillow under your hips so you won’t leak.
You’re only faintly aware of what he’s doing as he leaves briefly and returns with a warm, wet towel, gently asking you to open your legs for him. You obey, but you’re so exhausted you can’t help it as your eyes droop shut. The last thing you remember before falling asleep is Satoru leaning forward to peck your forehead, praising you for taking him so well.
-
You wake up a few hours later to sunlight streaming through your bedroom window, making you squint a little as you sit up in bed. You immediately gasp at the ache between your legs, and the soreness racing up and down your body.
Memories of the previous night come flooding back as a sleepy groan sounds from next to you. Satoru stirs, awakened by your panicked sound, asking softly, “You okay, baby?”
Oh god. Shit. Fuck. You actually had sex with Gojo Satoru.
“Hmm?” He looks a little concerned at your lack of response, pulling you against him. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You in pain? Sorry, did my best to clean you up and everything.” Only then do you realize that the place between your thighs is no longer sticky, and that you’re wearing a fresh set of underwear with Satoru’s unbuttoned shirt wrapped around you.
“...What did we do?” You whisper in a muddled mixture of shock and amazement.
“You regret it?” he asks carefully, pulling back a little to gauge your reaction. You shake your head vehemently, snuggling back close to him. You breathe in his scent, eyes fluttering closed. You feel so right at home in his arms.
“No.” You ponder for a bit. “But it’s never gonna happen again, right?” Satoru’s breath catches in his throat.
“What?”
“I know last night might’ve given you the wrong impression.” You swallow hard, trying to contain the feelings bubbling up within you. Satoru just looks so beautiful under the morning sun, his crystal blue eyes glittering in the light. You know you’re not mistaken, you’ve never been so sure about it — you love him. “I don’t… do this. Thank you for being with me for this one night, but…” you trail off.
“Hey, hey.” You’re crying again, and this time, Satoru wipes the tears off your cheek, cupping your face between his hands. “What’re you talkin’ about?”
“Don’t want just this from you,” you continue vaguely, looking away shamefully. “But I don’t… I don’t expect you to want the same.” He stills at your words, trying to decipher them properly.
“You still in love with me?” He deciphered them spot on, but that doesn’t stop a humiliated squeak from leaving you. You’re huffing, face on fire with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment.
“F-Fine, whatever! You know already, so…” You look away, gnawing at your lower lip. “That’s w-why — “
“Don’t really know why you’re so upset, princess,” he cuts you off, pulling you out of the downward spiral he sees you’re about to fall into. “Think…” Satoru pauses to swipe at a tear at the corner of your eyes. “Still such a crybaby,” he can’t help but say, watching with amusement as you scowl at him with all the ferocity of an angry kitten.
“Ugh, jerk! Four years later and you still can’t take me seriously, God, why do I even bo — “ He cuts you off again, this time with a kiss. When he pulls away, he’s smiling gently, chuckling at your dumbfounded expression.
“Think I love you too,” he finishes. “So you’ve got nothing to worry about.” A few moments pass.
“...Are you fucking with me?” You look him dead in the eye.
“Technically, I already did,” he replies cheerfully. You look at him in disbelief. “Okay, sorry, sorry, sweetheart. Let me spell it out for you.” Satoru holds you close to him, tracing slow, comforting circles along your back. “Be my girlfriend?”
You answer him with a kiss of your own.
-
Suguru sighs, fishing in his pocket for his house keys as he approaches the front door. He’s worried about you; although the bastard had cheated on you and deserved to have you dump him, he knows you’re still probably heartbroken.
Or at least a little heartbroken. Suguru’s aware you never really that into your ex, if your drunk phone calls about how much you miss Satoru were enough evidence. Hiding those from his best friend was tough work; he would have to sit in the bathroom or the closet with his headphones and speak as quietly and carefully as possible to not rouse any suspicion.
Either way, he knows you definitely need some cheering up right now. He’s brought you a box of cupcakes from your favorite bakery, hoping it would be enough to at least get you in a talking mood.
Imagine his surprise when he opens the door and the first thing he sees is Gojo Satoru. Not only is Gojo Satoru standing in his kitchen, but he’s wearing Suguru’s apron, a gift from you many Christmases ago. To make things worse, he’s nearly butt naked under it, only wearing a pair of boxers that are — wait a second, are those Suguru’s as well?
“Oh hey, Suguru!” If Satoru is nervous or embarrassed, he plays it off well as he turns around and waves, flashing the stupid, faded picture of Remy from Ratatouille on his apron right in Suguru’s face. “You hungry? Was just makin’ some eggs.”
“What the actual fuck,” Suguru grits out, putting two and two together as you choose that moment to wander out into the kitchen, wearing nothing but an unfamiliar collared button down that reaches down nearly to your knees. Satoru’s.
“S-Sugu.” Your eyes go round, stopping in your tracks. No one speaks for a moment. Satoru’s still happily cooking eggs. Suguru’s expression is stone cold. You’re staring at your brother with embarrassment written all over your face.
“Baby, you ready for food?” Satoru steps away from the stove to wrap an arm around your waist, smooching you on top of your head. You make a stuttered noise under your breath, glancing back at your brother.
Suguru’s smiling now, but not in the traditional sense. He looks almost maniacal as he slowly places the box of cupcakes on the table before locking eyes with Satoru. Finally, the white-haired man has enough shame for his casual grin to falter.
“What happened to no funny business?”
Satoru is forced to abandon the stove, running away from a fuming Suguru chasing after him with the first thing he could find on the dining table — a carrot.
“Sugu, stop, it’s okay — “ Your pleas fall on deaf ears as your brother is hell-bent on finding a way to murder his best friend with a vegetable. You sigh deeply, moving to go after them when you suddenly smell something burning. Your head snaps to where the eggs Satoru was cooking are now sitting blackened over the flame.
Needless to say, the first morning with Gojo Satoru as your official boyfriend was far from perfect.
Thankfully, you would have many, many more mornings with him, each more wonderful than the last, that this one quickly faded from importance.
But not from Suguru’s.
“I still remember,” Suguru says, clearing his throat for dramatic effect. “When I opened the door on that one morning, and you were not only in my house, but you were half-naked wearing my apron and my underwear — “
Satoru groans as the audience bursts into laughter at his best man’s speech, burying his face in your shoulder. You’re giggling right along with them, sparing your new husband a peck on the cheek as his best friend continues to tear him apart.
“Then you had the audacity to pretend nothing was wrong — “
Satoru knew he would never live this down, but he had zero regrets. Not when you’re sitting right next to him in a pretty white dress holding his hand under the table.
“Well.” Suguru looks over at him, raising a brow. “Got anything to say?” Satoru takes the mic from him, face splitting into a shit-eating grin as he says two words:
“Worth it.”
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suguann · 1 month
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He has a feeling that the new girl running the front desk at the gym is going to be a problem—a distraction disguised in a gym uniform polo and khaki pants.
It starts with you smiling too brightly as he walks in one morning, all teeth and that little twinkle in your eye that feels like trouble when you scan his membership card.
“Good morning, Mr. Riley.” 
“It’s just Simon,” he tells you as he takes his card off the counter. 
The following day, it’s the same, except Johnny is there to make it worse.
He nudges Simon with his elbow. “She’s kinda pretty, huh?”
“Say it any louder, and she’ll hear you, mate,” he grumbles.
Simon’s not blind; of course, he knows you’re pretty, but he doesn’t have time to commit to anything outside of work—even if you smile at him like you’re happy to see him and how he’ll think about it later: on missions, at his desk, during morning runs. His head is nothing short of woven webs with thoughts of you stuck in the middle.
Honestly, it’s that you—
(You try to make small talk with him every morning, and Simon is starting to think it’s just for him because on the days he doesn’t come alone, you merely scan his card and go back to reading the open paperback book on the desk.)
It’s weird because it’s almost like you—
(He bumps into you at the supermarket and makes a dumb joke about carrots that makes you laugh. It makes him a little tongue-tied and awkward afterward because he realizes he hasn’t talked to a woman outside of only wanting a quick fuck in a really long time, but more importantly, he wants to hear it again. 
Instead, he tosses potatoes in his cart and walks away.)
He tells himself it means nothing, or not how Simon wants it to.
You’re just…he’s not even sure; acquaintances? Maybe more than that, but less than friends. Somewhere in that odd in-between phase where he only knows bits and pieces but not the whole picture.
Sometimes, he wishes—
(Simon doesn’t know what he’s doing the first time he invites you to meet the guys from work on a night out. He’s dated around a few times and had his fair share of hook-ups, but this isn’t like that. His palms are sweaty, more than usual, and no amount of wiping them on the thighs of his jeans keeps them dry.
Then you walk into the bar in a dress that’s probably too light for early spring in London—even though he stares appreciatively at the long expanse of your legs as you walk up to the table—and he wishes he wasn’t introducing you as his friend.)
But you—
(A new development happens after you slip him your phone number on one of the gym’s business cards—it’s weird that we don’t have each other’s numbers, so message me sometime or whatever—and he messages you ‘hey’ right before he leaves for a mission a few days later. 
It slowly shifts and changes over time.
You start sending him texts in the morning. Never an actual good morning text, but of the dogs you take on walks, the sunrise, the new flower box in your window. Somehow, it’s better.)
You really are—
(His house feels too hot, and he’s distracted from the movie by how close you are, how your leg drapes over his under the blanket, fingers fisting into his sweater at his stomach that clenches. An ache that grows, throbbing, spreading from his abdomen to his groin.
It feels monumental—something more than the gentle touch to the elbow to squeeze by each other in his entryway earlier or giving you his jacket that night at the bar—a tilt of the axis that makes the messy pieces fall neatly into place. 
He must be staring because you glance up at him, smiling, and the sound from the TV turns into white noise in the background.
“Can I…would you—fucking hell,” Simon runs a hand through his hair. “Can I kiss you?”
When your lips press against his, and his hands are pulling you onto his lap, where you settle hotly against his dick tenting in his jeans, he wonders why neither of you has done this before. Just kissing—him licking the seam of your mouth, and you panting his name.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you mumble, lips brushing his.
“Me too,” and he fists his hand into the hair at your nape and pulls you back to his mouth.)
“I knew you’d be trouble,” he tells you one day, glaring at the bloke further down the bar who tried making a swipe at your ass before Simon showed up, towering over his shoulder with your fruity cocktail in hand.
“Oh, yeah?” you giggle, leaning into his side.
“Yeah,” the corners of his mouth quirk, though he hides it when he presses a kiss against your temple. “A real pain in my ass, love.”
“But yours.”
This time, he does smile. “Yes, but mine.”
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violetrainbow412-blog · 5 months
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A fair payment [W. W.]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 1.5k
People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]
some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)
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“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.
The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 
However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.
“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.
Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.
"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."
“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.
Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.
“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”
“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"
"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.
Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.
“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.
"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”
“Oh, it's nothing.”
“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."
You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.
Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.
“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”
“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.
Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.
Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.
“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.
“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”
“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”
“And you are a great dreamer”
“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.
“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”
“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”
“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.
“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"
Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.
A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.
"What's that?"
“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.
You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.
At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.
You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?
“How does it taste?”
“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”
“A special and secret ingredient”
"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”
“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”
You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.
“We could say yes”
“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.
A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.
“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.
As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.
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carinathefairy · 11 months
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Hello beautiful souls once again,
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You know what I've been questioning lately that i feel good with everything, even the bad things that creep during the day, i feel good about it, i think i am starting to accept things in a point off view, more, i don't want to say positive because most of the things they are not and still my thought process is not good enough to be in a positive state of being.
Maybe i am in denial and think that me accepting everything that's been happening to me is just a romanticize version i created to make me feel better, but yet i do.
I've been enjoying my late nights looking at the sky while laying in bed specially when i listen to music, I've been embracing that awful feeling of anxiety and the turmoils it brings, I've been accepting that my love life it is nothing but me and that no one seams to have a like in me, I've been enjoying the hard day routine where i take care of my grandpa and house (although I've been slacking a bit on the house) and the weekends at the restaurant working, my social life was nothing a year ago and now it is staring to flourish a bit, even if it is not for my liking or the circumstances seam different from what i expect, the late dances in my room the late dances that i do once in while in the club by the dark light under the influence of alcohol.
The feeling of not being myself around people I truly don't know, the warmth of a hug, an embrace from a friend, the distance between me and my brother that i love very much even if he doesn't know.
My darkest secrets (swear that i did not kill no one 🤣) that have a weight in my shoulders that i have to carry for the rest of my life, my first love that ended up being a strange person, the caress of my cats when they want attention, the smell of freshly made coffee when i arrive at a cafe.
The late crying session when life seam to smothering to even breath, the warm and bright days when i get out of the house just to put the clothes to dry, the burn of the tongue when i seep my too hot green tea, the feeling music gives me that makes me feel like i am in a cinematic movie, the way i choose music to feel like i am in a movie (main character edition who?) My messy room that for many times i try to tidy it up it always ends up in a mess.
My skin care routine where i look in the mirror and tell my self that there is no wrong in taking care of myself, the late night smokes greeted by the cold weather of the night, the silence in the night, the moon the beautiful moon that i say hello almost every night when i see her or compliment her how beautiful she is that day.
the complicated relationship i have with my mom, the confused feelings i have towards certain members of my family, the times i was alone when i needed someone to hold me, the times when i thought that there was nothing more to life than what i was having.
And even tho i am starting to feel good about all of this and more, it seams unreal and not true, seems fake, guilt creeps up for feeling good, and why? Don't really know why, not for sure, maybe because i see people suffering and because i suffered in my own stories it seams that i need to continuing suffering, maybe it's because i feel too cocky and try my best to not show that i am starting to feel okay, maybe is because my life it is not, in no absulete way, figured it out or even put together.
But yet i am starting to feel good, to feel that i am worth everything, good things and bad things because as i normally say "good comes with bad and bad comes with good" i live by this phrase and many others that help me understand that life is that cruel and raw but so beautiful and unique.
That there is no wrong or good to live your life (but you know don't be rude or i don't know kill someone 🙃) you choose the way you should live your life at your own pace, and yes it hard, and yes i hate saying this words because they have the ick in me 🤣 but still i can't lie that they have a truth to them, specially when we live in a society where there are a lot of people telling us what to live, choose, appear, present, talk, look...
But I've been accepting that i am worth loving even though sometimes i think that i am not worth to anyone, that i am worth to love, to feel good.
My life is no where to be satisfying or just butterfly's and rainbows, but a mess with no path set in stone, no orientation, living day by day and trying to understand what i really want to do, but yet i feel good.
It is strange words seam to not describe this feeling well or maybe i just don't know how to write (English is not my mother language, but even if i wrote it in my language i think i would end up in the same).
Stay safe amazing souls and remember there is no rush no one is ahead of you no one is competing with you, live your own way even if it looks weird to others eyes, it is your own and beautiful messy life!
Much love and a tight hug,
Carina.
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lucidfairies · 5 months
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money [a.a]
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pairing: ceo!abby x secretary!reader
synopsis: when you finally land the job of your dreams, you had no idea what your boss would be like. and damn, no idea you conjured could've done her justice.
warnings: top!abby, bottom!reader, age gap (reader is in her 20s, abby is in her early 40s), cunnilingus (r/a receiving), strap (r!receiving), praise + degradation, mommy kink, dirty talk, manhandling, pet names (sweetheart, sweet girl, angel, baby, whore, slut)
word count: 3.3k
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it wasn't everyday that you landed a job with one of the most well known law firms in washington. for now you were just a secretary, someone to sit outside of an office and take calls, but your hope was to work your way up to one of their lawyers.
you had little prior experience with being a secretary, but it was just enough to get you this gig. the building was large, and the office you were to assist was on one of the highest floors, naturally where the head of the firm was.
you knew her, abby anderson. incredibly talented lawyer who even won over a supreme court case. though you hadn't met her in person, you were exhilarated to meet her. she was who you dreamed to be, especially by her age.
it wasn't until your third day, when abby was finally in the office, when you got a glimpse of what working here would actually look like. abby showed up in a well pressed black suit, armani logo drilling into your eyes like a laser, making you feel all that underdressed.
"do I know you?" she asked when you knocked gently on her office door and went in. she truly didn't mean to be rude - her son had been sick for three days and she was feeling it now - but you didn't know that. you automatically assumed she was an asshole, and that threw you off.
you cleared your throat, meeting her eyes and immediately shifting them again. she was intimidating, almost scary. "I'm y/n. I'm your new assistant." she looked you up and down, gaze still burning your skin, and the corner of her mouth turned up to a smirk.
"great. I take my coffee black, nothing in it. there will be a card on your desk that you can charge it to every morning. get yourself something. I expect you to leave before I do, as I stay late. by any chance, do you babysit?" your eyes found hers as you finally looked up.
"I mean, I can. I used to when-" she cut you off, uninterested in anything except the yes. you noted that for later.
"I might need you to pick up my son from school every couple weeks. not often, and certainly not until I've run a background check on you." she wasn't hardly looking at you now, eyes flipping between her papers and computer. "did I miss anything?"
"no ma'am," you said, standing up and instinctively wiping off your skirt, though there was nothing there. suddenly you were back at your desk, waiting for calls and bookings to come in while trying to make sense of that interaction.
the next day you arrived late, but in your defense, the line at the coffee place was long and traffic was even longer, and now you weren't even sure that the coffee was hot. abby was there when you gently knocked on her door, allowing your entry with a low 'come in.
"I'm so sorry I'm late, there was really bad traffic and the line-"
"it's okay, sweet girl." your stomach flipped. yesterday, when your eyes knew nothing but the floor, you hadn't exactly taken in her appearance, but today. today.
today she was in a black turtleneck, sleeves right around the muscle in her arms that just made her look so, so good. her black slacks were tight at her hips with a belt, and they were hugging her legs so tight that you were sure the seam would rip.
her hair was pulled into a nice bun and she wore no makeup, not that she ever needed to. she had freckles, beautiful eyes. rings. she had rings, that she could put inside of you any day.
"I'll be on time tomorrow, miss." your gaze dropped again as you turned to leave her office. this was surely going to be nothing but torture for the following months.
two weeks later was the first time she asked you to stay late. you originally had plans, but the way your name dripped off of her tongue like honey made you immediately cancel them. she had asked you politely to pick up her son, and you even acquired her number from the ordeal.
dealing with kids was not your specialty, but abby's son was a delight. he talked all about his mom, some about his dad and it made you wonder if abby was single or not. she never wore a ring to your knowledge, not even on a necklace, and from your speculation she almost looked like a lesbian. maybe you were just dreaming about the end.
if you had taken your apartment and multiplied it by ten, it still wouldn't be half the size of abby's house. she truly did have money, if the armani suits and porsche didn't say that already.
an hour into your babysitting, which almost just felt like hanging out with a kid in a mansion, abby got home. she walked in, greeting you with the first real smile you had ever seen on her face. your brain malfunctioned when you gently placed her hand on your arm and pressed an innocent kiss onto your cheek.
you were blushing profusely, pupils blown, almost dizzy, all she did was kiss your cheek, a very normal way of greeting someone and you were fucked. abby didn't fail to see you run your fingers over the spot and look at them before quickly turning back towards the two of them.
abby lived for it. lived for the you drooled over everything she did, lived for the way that she was sure her fingers would look so, so good in your mouth... and she tried not to think about it. how could she, when her son was standing right next to her, trying to tell her about his day, and you. you just looked so innocent.
you were engulfed in her smell, the perfect balance of pine and amber and erotica. she smelled like five hundred dollar cologne right off the shelf of valentino. you wanted to smell like that, wanted to smell like that, wanted to wear her clothes and have everyone think that you were together.
"thanks for coming, sweetheart. I'll see you on monday." you looked at her with your brows knit, knowing you had work the following day, friday. "take the day off. you did something for me, and I'm repaying you. use my card and get something."
the amount of money she had to just throw around was so attractive to you. she was an independent woman who brought in millions every year and was letting some secretary she had known for three weeks let buy anything on a day off.
monday had arrived, and you had purchased nothing with abby's card, naturally. you weren't one to spend someone's money just because they had a lot of it, or because they told you to. she would've had to buy it for you to accept it, at that.
it was nearing eleven when abby called you into her office by your first name, instead of one of the many nicknames she always seems to use. "sit." she demanded as you stepped in, and you did so.
"is something wrong, ms. anderson?" she wasn't mad, but she was irritated. she told you to do something, told you to put yourself first and you didn't.
"I told you to treat yourself on friday," her gaze left her laptop and met your eyes. "why didn't you?" you blanked for a moment.
"I just.. I didn't feel right spending money that wasn't mine." she gave you a disapproving look, before getting up and coming around her desk to stand in front of you. in a matter of moments, one of her large hands was grabbing your jaw and forcing your head up to look at her.
she bent down slightly, lips grazing over yours, and you were sure she could feel how much your face heated up. "next time I tell you to do something, you're going to do it. understand, sweet girl?"
"I don't-" your pupils were blown and you were so desperate for her to press her lips just a bit closer, fill the gap and just let you have it.
"say 'yes abby'."
"y-yes abby." she let go of your face and went back to her desk, pretending to pay you little attention, but she was acutely aware of the way you pushed your thighs together and squirmed.
"you're dismissed. I expect to see a charge by the morning." you got up and hurried out, going straight to the bathroom. your face was burning up, and you could vaguely see an imprint from her hand.
you were meaninglessly circling the mall, trying to decide what to spend this newfound money on. obviously you wouldn't get something big and glamorous, no matter how much she seemingly wanted you to.
every time you walked, you seemed to pass victoria's secret. It seemed like it was calling you to buy something, and after that interaction with abby earlier, you decided that maybe you should treat yourself and went in.
you looked around for a while before finding a cute blue set, with embroidered, lacy flowers. it was nothing special, just transparent and high waisted, but it was speaking to you. suddenly you knew what you were wearing to work the next day.
- - -
you felt completely scandalous wearing a short little skirt over the lingerie in the morning, with a button down, where the first few buttons were unbuttoned. it was different from your usual dress pants and blouse, but it definitely did what you needed it to do.
work was as usual for the majority of the morning, and you were suddenly doubting why you wore what you did. there was no point, you were seriously delusional and seriously needed help. what kind of freak where's lingerie and completely inappropriate work clothes to work after one minor interaction with their boss?
that was until you got a simple email from ms. anderson herself, reading nothing but;
my office. now, please.
you cleared your throat, brushed out your hair slightly and adjusted your shirt before nonchalantly entering her office. you sat, observing the way she remained quiet for a moment before clearing her desk and turning her attention towards you.
“did you think I wouldn't realize?” she asked, cooly, with her eyebrows raised slightly. “I mean, props to you, you did as you were told. but I checked the card. I'm not the only one who can see the transactions on that card either, sweetheart.”
you were immediately red. who else could see them? “I didn't r-really think-”
“no, you didn't. I bet the men in my finances would love to see you dancing around in whatever you bought, wouldn't they, baby?” she was standing before you could think, hands resting on the handles of your chair. “why don't you show me, huh? I know you're wearing it.”
“I'm not- we can't do that here.” you looked around, though you knew no one would ever bother her and her office had no cameras. “we're at work, abigail.” there was a fast switch in her eyes, the way they went from cocky to wide, almost needy.
“fuck,” her head dropped into the crook of your neck before she ran her nose along your jaw. “say it again. please, baby.” her tone, the gentle pleading made any rational thoughts disappear from your mind. your hand wrapped around the collar of her button down and pulled her in gently.
“abigail,” you whispered, “I want this,” with that, her hands were everywhere, all at once. she was pulling you up, wrapping her large hands around your hips as she pulled you in for a harsh kiss. she was forcing you onto her desk, keeping her lips to yours as your bodies molded to each other.
she left your lips, finding a perfect spot on your neck and sucking. you gasped when you felt her hand undoing the buttons of your shirt and pulling it out of your skirt. you were grabbing her by her waist trying to pull her closer as she continued to mark up your neck and grab your tits.
when she finally pulled away from your neck, her eyes became wide looking at your lingerie clad tits. you slid your shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it, looking up at her as you began to unbutton hers. she didn't let you get very far before she was gently pushing you back until your back was against the cool wood of the desk.
she unclipped your bra and pulled it off, tongue immediately meeting your nipple. she bit it and you yelped, grabbing her shoulders. her large hand was messing with your other, tugging gently and kneading. "I love your tits so fucking much, baby.” she mumbled into your skin while she kissed down your stomach.
she left more hickies on your ribs, but you desperately needed her in one place. she was pulling your skirt down in seconds, pressing her tongue against you like it was nothing and watching you arch and moan. she was eating you out through your underwear for a minute, before you grabbed her hair and pulled her head up.
"take them off." she smirked, and her head tilted slightly to the side.
"who said you're in charge, sweet angel?" the nickname was new, but you fucking loved that she always called you sweet. you were something sweet to her, and that made your brain lag every time.
"abby please," you bucked into her, chasing friction. that's when you felt it; the large bulge in her slacks that you hadn't noticed earlier.
"feel that, baby? that's all for you." she pulled down your underwear slowly, tossing it in the pile of clothes. she spread your lips, watching slick connect and drip down your thighs. your face burned and you covered it, embarrassed. "uncover your face or I'll stop." you did as told.
she pulled a ponytail off her wrist and pulled her hair into a bun before pressing her tongue into your clit and licking a fat stripe. your head hit the desk with a thud, reveling at the feeling. she worked your clit, sucking it into her mouth and painting patterns with her tongue while she pressed a finger into entrance.
she used her free hand to hold you down by your stomach, since your squirming was messing her up. you whined when she added a second finger, not used to her thick fingers. "if you can't take my fingers, how am I supposed to fuck you with my strap?" you moaned at her words, loving the dirtiness of it.
she returned to your clit and you got loud when she curled her fingers up into the best spot, whimpering and groaning. she remembered the time when you pressed your fingers to your cheek in her house, and brought her unused hand to your mouth, tapping your chin lightly. "open your mouth and suck," she instructed, noticing your confused look.
you took two of her fingers in your mouth and sucked them, which shut you up. your stomach coiled, a warm feeling rushing between your legs before you could even mumble a word. it felt like you just kept coming, until she finally pulled away from your cunt.
"are you gonna give me another one, angel?" she was unclipped her belt while you caught your breath. "wanna fuck you all day." she pulled her pants and boxers down just barely enough to get her strap out. "flip over, ass up." you turned over, fucked out muscles aching.
she ran the tip of her strap between your folds, letting your wetness lube it up, then lined up with your hole. she pushed just the tip in, groaning at the way you took it so well and swallowed her in. "what if I just fucked you like this, huh?" you whined.
"please.. need more," you pushed your hips back slightly, trying to push her in further. she pulled out, simply pushing the tip back in.
"desperate fucking whore," she thrust in on the last word, bottoming out immediately. you whimpered, the strap stretching you far more than her fingers. "aw, baby, does that hurt?" she pulled out far and fucked into you again.
she started fucking you, deep and hard, until you were moaning and grabbing onto the desk, trying to stabilize yourself. one of her hands left your hips and grabbed your hair, wrapping it around her fist and tugging. "fuck.. abby- abs.. mommy,”
your eyes widened at the name, which came out unintentionally. she stopped momentarily before groaning and picking her pace back up rapidly. "call me that again." the tip of her strap kissed your cervix and bumped against your g-spot every time. her arm wrapped around your waist, flicking your clit.
"mommy.. m'gonna cum." you slurred, cock drunk and fucked out. she kept her pace, hardly changing anything except for the fact that she was louder now, finding the perfect angle to get the harness to hit her clit.
"just wait a second, my love,” you held it for as long as you could, but it became too much, and she was hitting just right. your mind went absolutely blank as your vision went white, a wave crashing over you as you came.
you could hear abby moaning, but you were still going, and unable to think of anything. “fuck baby, you make such a mess.” you relaxed your tense body and look over your shoulder at abby's soaked harness, pants, and desk.
“m’sorry.” she slowly pulled her strap out and unclipped it front her hips, letting you lay for another minute before she grabbed your hips and helped you flip over and sit up. “wanna make you cum, mommy.” you looked at her with doe eyes, watching her eyes darken.
“I already came, sweetheart. don't worry about me.” you brought your hand down to cup her cunt and she took in a sharp breath. you ground your palm against her clit and she groaned, shifting her stance from foot to foot.
you slid off the desk with wobbly legs and kneeled in front of her, pupils blown. “please mommy,” you ran your nails over her abs and under her boxer strap lightly, making her muscles tense.
“such a slut, aren't you? want mommy to fuck your face?” you nodded, pulling her boxers down to her ankles. her blonde bush matched her hair, and you noticed her happy trail that you hadn't earlier. “stick out your tongue, baby, be a good girl.”
you stuck your tongue out flat, not even getting a chance to lick before she was pressing her cunt to your mouth. she fucked herself on your face, gripping your hair tight and grinding fast. you gently pushed her against the desk, lifting one of her legs to your shoulder and leaving the other one down.
she must have loved the new angle, because she was moaning and grunting more than you had ever heard her. her clit was twitching and puffy, wet from your spit and her slick. she let out an involuntary whimper, and it was like music to your ears. “gonna c-cum on your f-fucking face, angel.”
her legs shook as she came, ans you spent the following moments licking all of it up. you pulled away and stood up, still shaky. she pulled her boxers and slacks up, moving towards the pile of clothes and handing you what was yours. “do you wanna get dinner tonight?” she stopped what she was doing to button up your shirt and zip your skirt.
“yeah, that's great.” she smiled, kissing you softly.
“you can go home if you want to clean up. I can take my own calls for a few minutes.” it was your turn to smile, grateful to get out of your uncomfortable, wet clothes.
“I'll see you tonight?” you asked, looking over your shoulder once you got to the door.
“pick you up at seven.”
a/n: part two? 🤭
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tag list: @shewantstoknow @baumbii @zombholic
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dancingbirdie · 6 months
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Back with another bout of plotless smut. Read at your own discretion and take note of the tags. <333
Like my smut writing? Find more here.
We Have All Night
Rating: MATURE
Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader x Halsin
Word Count: 800
Warnings/Tags: Oral sex (fem!Reader receiving), praise kink, hand kink, threesome technically?, mentions of alcohol, pure plotless smut
Summary: You'd been wondering for some time what it would be like to have Halsin and Astarion share you.
*****
You could have easily blamed the events that ensued on the bottles of Blingdenstone Blush you all had passed around camp that evening. But if you were honest with yourself, the position you found yourself in was one you had been fantasizing about for some time. 
“That’s it, darling,” Astarion coaxed as his fingers slipped gently through your hair, teasing and massaging your scalp. Your head was pillowed in his lap, pupils blown wide with lust as you peered up at him. He smiled down at you, a wicked, hedonistic sort of grin.
“You so desperately want to hold still for him, don’t you?”
You whined your assent, trying your best to keep your hips from bucking – an impossible task considering the relentless way Halsin’s tongue was licking and circling that sensitive spot at the apex of your thighs. 
“Such a good girl. You’re doing so well” Astarion cooed, while Halsin groaned in agreement. The vibrations it created against your skin felt like electricity surging through your limbs. 
Your mind was a disjointed haze of lust and alcohol. Totally uninhibited, you keened loudly as the druid suddenly gripped the softness of your thighs and plunged his tongue inside you.
“Shh, shh, shh” Astarion hushed, moving a hand to cover your mouth. “We don’t want the rest of the camp to hear our fun, do we?”
You groaned and shook your head slightly. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to join in?” you rasped, your lips moving against his slender fingers.
He gave a mischievous little chuckle. “I’m certain. I’m having a wonderful time just watching,” Astarion returned. 
“The night is still young,” Halsin persuaded, pausing his feasting on you to meet Astarion’s eyes. The absence of his mouth left you wanting, aching for contact once more. “If you change your mind, there’s plenty of fun to be had.” 
“A tempting offer, indeed,” Astarion smirked. “Let’s see where the evening takes us, shall we?”
You moaned against his hand as Halsin dipped his head to begin circling your clit with his tongue once more. You fisted his gorgeous auburn locks in your hands, eliciting a groan from his mouth that felt absolutely delicious against your hypersensitive skin. 
“Our sweet pup has an oh-so-difficult time keeping quiet, doesn’t she?” Astarion crooned, tracing his fingers against the seam of your lips. “You’re trying so hard, darling, I know you are.”
His silken, sinful voice felt almost as euphoric as the deplorable things Halsin was doing between your legs. In a bout of unbridled lust, you opened your mouth to capture Astarion’s index and middle fingers in your mouth. 
You sucked down on them, circled them with your tongue, as you imagined having his hard length sheathed down your throat. Your bawdy move drew a sharp breath from the vampire, followed by a quiet groan. 
You paused your ministrations, lifting a hand to pull his fingers from your mouth before asking, “Is this okay? Is it too much?” 
Astarion chuckled darkly, and you watched as his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. 
“You wicked thing,” he purred. “Yes, it’s okay. And it has the added benefit of keeping you quiet.”
You were beyond laughs and jokes. Hearing his consent, you drew his fingers back down to your mouth and resumed your sucking. You moaned your approval as Astarion pistoned his fingers deeper into your mouth at the same time Halsin inserted two fingers inside you. 
You knew you wouldn’t last long. Not with the way the druid was fucking you with his fingers at the same time his tongue was circling your clit. Not with the way Astarion was trailing one hand delicately across your exposed skin while you worshiped the fingers of his other hand with your tongue and lips. 
Every nerve within you was alight and thrumming with barely-restrained energy. You could feel yourself climbing higher and higher, your body preparing for the sweetest freefall that would soon ensue. Your heels dug into Halsin’s muscled back as you tensed, one hand still clenching his hair while the other held desperately onto Astarion’s thigh. 
“Yes, darling, yes,” Astarion kept coaxing as your body drew more and more taut. A bowstring desperate to be released. 
“Let yourself come, you know you want to,” he added in a soft whisper. 
It was too much. 
Those words, and a final flick of Halsin’s tongue, had you shattering into a thousand pieces. Your cries were barely restrained by the fingers still occupying your mouth. You were lost in pleasure, awash in the tingling aftermath of your release. 
Chest heaving, mind reeling, you could barely find words. 
“That… that was…” you wheezed, before letting loose a giggle. “Everything I’d imagined it would be.”
“You’d thought about this before?” Halsin grinned, wiping his mouth clean against his forearm before leaning down to plant a reverent kiss against your lips. You could taste yourself on him. It gave you more satisfaction than perhaps it should have. 
“My, my. What other sort of depraved carnal pleasures are bouncing around in that head of yours, I wonder?” Astarion added, helping you sit up so that you were lounging between the two of them. 
You shared a conspiratorial grin with both elves. “We have all night, if you’d like me to show you.”
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