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#well more of livestream summary
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STAGED LIVESTREAM SUMMARY S1
BABYGIRLS, BITCHBOYS, AND BOYCOTTERS OF THE BINARY, HELLO MAGGOTS OF MINE. Can you tell it is past 5 am and I just took my sleep meds? We all know how well that goes for my post-making prowess *stares at my good omens part 1 update on Neil's blog*.
BUT that is a regret for post-sleep me to have. When the sun rises I'll go to bed, it's a fucked up sleep schedule but hey the sun and I can't be up at the same time we'd all combust from the hotness. Oh I'm going to regret this so much. But I feel like it's only in this state that I can do justice to that goddamn livestream.
STRAP IN BECAUSE THIS IS A LONG POST AND I WILL NOT CUT IT BECAUSE I WANT EVERYONE WHOSE DASH IT LANDS ON TO YEARN FOR SPIRTUAL EYE-BLEACH.
Soooooo without further ado, or should I say much ado about nothing (see I can reference Shakespeare):
The stream starts, and we are witness to David Tennant being pointy and chaotic, Michael Sheen being adorable and enraged, and Simon looking close to tears at all times, which is a fucking mood.
I am witness to a disturbing degree of thirst every time Michael turns to the side. Michael in profile, they all swoon. I am concerned.
I'm reminiscing about my lockdown memories. David looking confused in a hoodie is very fucking relatable. Once, I started sobbing because my wardrobe looked like a wardrobe. It was a time for us all.
However, everyone else is busy yelling about different showings of Hamlet, Richard the Something Number, etc etc. No one is paying attention to me and my poor poor memories.
Now, I read original Shakespeare when I was like 13, .I like him. But I do not have this level of expertise. FRIENDS, ROMANS, COUNTRYMEN, LEND ME YOUR EARS, I beg.
No one pays attention. I am sad.
I go off to sulk.
By which I mean I actually pay attention to the show. So maggots reading this and wanting an actual summary, this is the only time you're going to get it, because it was when I was watching.
Basically, Simon (I'm gonna refer to their characters as them but for the record it's scripted, I'm being so considerate to the people who're here for an actual summary) digs himself into a hole, Michael does not like him and makes that very known, David offers to get Simon out of the hole and in the process digs both of them into an even deeper hole, and Samuel L Jackson (is that his name) and Michael become unlikely allies to get revenge on David.
Rather than an apology dance, though, David has to stand in a corner. Meanwhile, Georgia and Anna are the only ones actually functioning at their lives, Michael gets blackmailed into servitude by his neighbour, and Simon holds back tears. Judi Dench is involved (that's her name right).
Now as you can see, I am paying full attention to the show until this point. At this fucking point though, I make the poor choice of opening the stream chat.
@thescholarlystrumpet's profile picture is a certain angel. Focused on... the lower half.
Everyone in the chat is talking about Aziraphale's thighs.
This derails. Everyone is now talking about Aziraphale's dick.
Strumpet insists vehemently that the thighs are the focus.
Everyone says the thighs are only there for framing purposes.
You know me, maggots. I'm drawn to chaos, shark to blood. So I end my sulk at not being the centre of attention, and delightedly hop into the chat.
Someone (@vitrilol it was you, I believe? until confirmation, I'll refer to them as Ari) says they wish someone liked their thighs.
So naturally I say I like your thighs.
Oh, swoon, the flirting, you maggots would be scandalised. I'm quite the charmer. It is delectable. We take it to the bedroom. The bedroom is the stream chat. There are gasps.
Another maggot says that this is simply mine and Ari's room, and they're just in it. So then I tell them, why simply stand and watch? They should join in.
They say they have mixed experience with threesomes. I ask who said we're capping it at three?
They are far more comfortable with the idea of an orgy. An orgy has now been initiated. Some people express concern. Others are entirely on board.
Some say they are afraid they're too old for the said orgy, they're old enough to be my aunt. I say nonsense, you wanna orgy, you orgy.
Ari takes this opportunity to wonder if I'm old enough to be their aunt. They then hasten to assure me that they like MILFs.
I find this hysterical, because I am a nineteen year old guy whom people have said gives off tiktok fuckboy energy in real life. I make that fact known. I'm glad that being a man and being 19 does not exclude me from being a MILF, however.
At this point, Ari points out that at least people find me attractive, even if it's a tiktok fuckboy way. I am unsure that being attractive is worth giving off tiktok fuckboy energy. (Thank god, this is not my only vibe. I also have unkept stinky teenage boy, witch and Jane Austen debutante princess, but weird).
Someone else says that hey, I'm closer in age to their son than them. I am about to ask whether their son is eligible and how many pounds he has a year, when they add that the son is 12. I tell them I am glad I did not ask those things. They agree.
The show is still going on. Someone is gasping on Georgia's phone, and I assume it is labour (I learned my lesson about assuming orgasms after the good omens pilot). I am correct. A maggot says that labour and orgasms do not sound the same.
I'm a clueless aspec boy. I don't know about labour or orgasms.
There is some debate then about whether screaming in pain is a difference or a possible common ground for those two things.
The orgy is expanding. Strumpet has to step in to say that while thirsting about the actors is entirely fine, please everyone refrain from sexting in the stream chat.
I feel like I should state here for the record that no one was sexting.
Well. Okay. That's a dubious stretch of the truth, but I love dubiously stretching the truth.
David abuses chairs and beds and his limbs with his posture. I relate.
The neighbour nearly dies, then does not.
The internet gives up on the stream. This is fair. Poor internet.
But while the video is lagging, someone mentions that one of their favourite fanfic authors passed away.
Comfort is offered, as is my brand of aggressively gentle love. Basically DON'T FUCKING APOLOGISE, sweetheart, your grief is valid. Strumpet says how in case she should disappear she's given a friend the authority to post her WIPs as a precautionary measure. And now people are crying.
I ask Strumpet to pause the stream. We all get really fucking emotional about the beauty of writing, of art enduring past the lives of the artists, and whether the author knew how much they were loved. This is getting really sad, but in a beautiful way.
We go back to the stream. Who knows what happens? Not me.
But what matters to me isn't what's on the stream, it's what's in the chats. The people I get to talk to. The hope that I can, at the very least, ensure that they are never, ever unheard. That they get the love they deserve.
I'm too sleepy to reread that. Meds have kicked in. Eyes shut time. If I fucked up somewhere in the post do forgive me maggots of mine, it's past 6 am which means the sun has risen and I need to go the fuck to sleep till noon is over at least.
I love you. Love love love. Send me anything you want anytime. My ask box is open. Go wild. You will not be fucking unheard. Yeah? Good. I love you, again, for good measure.
@howmanyholesinswisscheese ya proud of me, dad?
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espinosaurusrexex · 6 months
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Watchful Eyes
CEO!SteveRogers x Female!Maid!Reader AU
read Bucky's story here
summary: When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.
a/n: So that just happened... I don't know where it came from, but please enjoy. (Please don’t be discouraged by the word count - I promise you it’s worth it and I kindly ask you to at least try 💛)
word count: 10.8k
warnings: power differences, Steve is pining, watching someone over secret livestream (is this stalking?), women being referred to as objects (not by Steve), just so much fluff, and also angst (there is a happy ending!), smut (masturbation - m, praise kink, oral - f receiving, dirty talk, orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected p in v, size kink, breeding kink) !MINORS DNI!
゚✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。✭・゚✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀��𝟑 ✧*・゚
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“Can you start Monday?”
“I can start Monday.”
“Perfect.”
Holy fuckidy fuck fuck. 
You had a job. A job that would crinkle some noses but it would pay money. Good money actually. Well, better than other offers in the branch.  
It had been luck, really. Because during one drunken night, which had originally been dedicated to drowning yourself in self-pity over the last job that had let you go due to staff cuts, your friend Natasha had crashed your party with Chinese food and gossip from her workplace. She was an assistant for one of the CEO’s of Shield Protection Services. And during her lunch with Sharon, the other assistant, Sharon had complained about Steve Rogers and how he had fired the third maid this month because they, apparently, were taking pictures of his home or selling some of his things. 
There might have been some talk about how picky and stuck up he could be but the important info was that Sharon was desperate at this point and had asked Nat if she knew anyone with the decency not to breach privacy and willingness to clean the CEO’s home. 
The good thing - or bad thing, you weren’t sure - was, Nat knew you were desperate too. So she gave Sharon your number and before you knew it, you were an employed woman again. 
❁ ❁ ❁
It was too early for you to be roaming the streets of New York, but you had gotten instructions and so you had gotten up at 6 and headed out to the address. And when you arrived, it felt as though it was the first time you blinked since the subway - you were that tired. Definitely not a morning person.  
The building was huge, tall glass fronts stretching into the sky and the ride up to the penthouse took longer than your average elevator rides did. 
The doors opened and revealed a beautiful open floor plan. A whole wall of windows brought natural light into the place and offered a view so breathtaking, it took you a moment to collect yourself. The place was ginormous - a lot to clean up - but seemed tidy enough to at least get started right away. 
You placed your bag on the counter by the kitchen and took more of the place in when suddenly, a voice startled you. 
“Who are you?” You whipped around, big eyes searching for the source until they landed on a tall man standing in what seemed to be a dining area - well, one of them at least. He had broad shoulders, neatly styled hair and one of those toothpaste smiles you only ever saw in magazines. He was wearing office attire, blue dress pants that slightly stretched over his muscled thighs, and when your head wandered back up his body, piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. 
Holy Shit. 
Before you stood Steve Rogers, three-time Forbes Magazine cover story, young entrepreneur turned filthy-rich hunk of a man, and CEO of the most successful security firm in this country. And he was talking to you - staring at you... waiting for an answer. 
Talking, you needed to start talking, you reminded yourself.
“I’m the new maid, sir. I’m so sorry I was told to come here at 7 as you leave for work before that.”
Mr. Rogers looked at you with an unintelligible stare. Meanwhile, you were nervously wringing your hands in the doorway, looking down. You hadn’t planned for anyone important to see you today. The worn-down Fleetwood Mac shirt you didn’t mind getting bleach on hanging over some pants you pulled from the back of your closet definitely wasn’t the kind of outfit you expected to greet Steve Rogers in. Great start. This was going awful.
“Well I’m here aren’t I?” His arms folded before his chest as his eyebrow raised, impressive biceps bulging beneath the white button-up, and - damn - it was hard not to stare. 
“Right. Yes. Sorry. I’ll come back later.” You turned to leave again but he stopped you.
“No need. I am on my way out.” The left corner of his mouth twitched into a cheeky grin when he grabbed his bag, left the newspaper discarded on the table, and placed his coffee mug in the sink. Interesting.
“Don’t snoop.” He whispered teasingly as he passed you, a whiff of expensive cologne paralyzing your senses and you weren’t sure if he was making a suggestion or actually warning you. That damn perfume seemed to hypnotize you. 
Your eyes followed his broad shoulders until they disappeared behind the corner and then the elevator doors shut. It seemed to take all the tension from your face. You exhaled long and then began to look around some more.
The place was huge, you’d already established that. But when you found the third bedroom amongst the private office and Pool table room, you knew you had to make a weekly plan to work off. You had to give Mr. Rogers credit, though. There was rarely any clutter lying around - it wasn’t dirty per se - just had the usual dust you’d expect in a place this size with only one person living in it. 
You huffed, resting your hand on your hips once you completed the tour. And then you got started. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve peered up from his computer screen when Bucky strolled through the doors of his office. A coffee in hand he had most likely tweaked from his assistant's desk on the way here, he shot a grin to his oldest friend and business partner. 
“What ya doing, punk?” The brunette asked teasingly when he circled the desk and settled on the window sill behind Steve. 
“Just making sure things stay in order.” He leaned back and turned around slightly, just in time to see his friend nod knowingly.
“Heard Nat got you a new maid.” Bucky dipped his chin towards the laptop still open on the desk. “That her?”
His eyes wandered to the screen where a live feed of his apartment streamed you changing his bedsheets. He hummed in agreement. 
“She’s pretty,” Bucky commented before sipping his coffee again and Steve felt an unfamiliar feeling bubble in his stomach. “But I bet you don’t care anyway. You’re all ‘don’t sell my stuff’ and ‘having things stolen from a security firm CEO is embarrassing’. Wouldn’t know a pretty thing like that if it climbed you.”
“Because it is embarrassing. And I highly recommend you monitor your staff to make sure they don’t do the same.” Of course, Steve knew you were ‘pretty’. Exactly his type, to be honest. He had noticed it the second you stepped into his apartment this morning. The way your hands wrung beneath you. And he had shot you a teasing remark in hopes of discovering a sassy fire in those timid doe eyes of yours. But you had stumbled over your words like a fawn.
Bucky clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Nonsense. Peggy is great - and too old to even carry anything valuable out of my place. I trust her with my life and house keys.” And then he pushed off the sill. “I think it’s time for you to get laid again. And that’s why I’m a great friend and organized dinner and drinks with Tony and Sam tonight.”
Steve fell back in his chair, hands over his eyes. “I don’t need your wing-maning me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” 
“Sure.”
“I’m serious, Buck.”
“You can thank me later.” He stout towards the door. “You know... after you’ve been devoured by the pretty little waitress at the Ironbar.” Bucky winked before his face disappeared again. 
Steve just huffed as his eyes landed back on the weekly report on his desk and then swayed back to his computer screen. 
As unwilling as he was to admit it, it had been some time since his last late-night rendezvous. And as he saw you crawl up on his bed to place the bedsheets properly along his mattress, he felt his pants tighten slightly. 
❁ ❁ ❁
“We’ll get one more round of the good stuff.” 
“Of course Mr. Stark.” Tony winked and patted his waitress’s butt before she stalked away on her high heels and towards the locked glass cabinet behind the bar. 
Steve had designed it himself, a fiberglass shrine-like display for ridiculously expensive liquors, only to be opened by a passcode that got regenerated every week. He watched as Betty - the young and lanky waitress - retrieved a crystal bottle of whiskey and filled four glasses with the golden liquid. 
“God, I love that thing,” Tony sighed next to Steve and watched Betty with a satisfied smile.
“You better be talking about that cabinet, Stark.” Steve shook his head with a frown only to receive a wink from Tony, who was sitting closest to him at the round table. 
“So...” Bucky leaned over to Steve and spoke in a hushed voice. “You see anything you like?” He gestured at the bar where Tony’s carefully picked waitresses passed with filled and emptied glasses and bottles. They were all wearing tight black t-shirts and skirts or shorts that counted just as scandalous. One could foolishly mistake this place for a Hooters if Tony hadn’t made it one of the most pristine bars in all of New York City. 
It was popular amongst the clientele which mainly consisted of bored rich men that came here to get something to look at without being judged for it. But Steve wasn’t feeling the girls today. When Betty shoved her breasts in his field of view, all he could think about was how he had never gotten the idea to get his maids a uniform that catered to his... liking. And when Betty swayed her hips on her way to the bar, his thoughts became clouded by the image of you in a short little skirt, riding up just a little to tease I’m about what was hidden underneath when you kneeled on his bed to get the sheets sorted. 
Steve adjusted his pants at the little flashback, clearing his throat and sitting up straighter in his seat. 
“Oh, apparently you have...” Bucky grinned before his eyes hushed down to Steve’s crotch and back up just as fast. “Well then,” he leaned back with a satisfied grin. “Which one is it? Samatha? Tiffany? Though I think Megan is more your type.” 
“Just shut up, punk.”
“Okay you don’t have to tell me me... either way, my job here is done.” He brushed his hands off fake dust and smiled smugly. “You better be in a good mood tomorrow.” 
Steve just huffed and waited for Betty to come back with ‘the good stuff’ to hopefully drown out his annoying friends for the rest of the night. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. No, he would do anything for the people he chose to have in his life. The group he found himself in right now had been through thick and thin with him, stayed through his fame and fortune, and was just as supportive before it had all happened to either of them. He was happy having the guys because they built each other up and aimed for greatness - together, they were fucking invincible. 
But sometimes, Steve felt a little out of place amongst Bucky and Tony. It was in situations regarding women most of all because he could never adapt the attitude to talk about them the way they did. And he never had the headspace to juggle as many as they did. He had tried the one-night stands. But he struggled to navigate the superficial pleasure maze New York City provided in masses. Because just as the ever-passing smiles on the streets, it wasn’t fulfilling enough for Steve. At least not in the way it was for his friends. 
He wanted what Sam had. A partner, a family, something constant and beautiful. And that was, why he found himself asking for pictures of Sam’s kids and nephews rather than listen to Tony’s latest bed bunny endeavor whenever the conversations took a turn in that direction. 
“Earth to Rogers,” Sam’s finger snapped in front of Steve’s face. “What this I’m hearing? You got a new maid? What happened to the old one?”
“She sold his stuff on Craigslist.” Bucky snorted and took a sip of the drink that had magically appeared in front of them. 
“You aren’t serious.” 
“I really liked that tie,” Steve grumbled into his cup. 
“Man, I’m glad I don’t have to deal with things like that. You rich people really are a different breed.” 
“You’re rich, too, Sam.” 
Sam just smiled above his crystal glass, having fun with the little joke he liked to pull for ages now. He wasn’t any less successful than any of the other men at their table. But other than them, he had settled in a beautiful neighborhood - despising the concrete jungle each of the other guys lived in. His house felt like home, like a cozy place that had seen love and time and nothing like the polished and sleek man caves the rest of them owned.
“Well, anyways, my amazing assistant organized him a new one, the prettiest thing - really. But he’s refusing to see it.” 
Tony chuckled. “Well, that's Rogers in a nutshell, isn’t it.” 
Sam just pursed his lips and glanced over at Steve with a soft smile, ignoring the comments of the other guys. They never explicitly talked about it, but Sam was a smart man, and it would have surprised Steve, had he not already figured out that he was more of a family man than their friends were as of right now. 
“To new maids that aren’t selling your clothes on the internet then.” He raised his drink and winked at Steve once their glasses clinked. 
And Steve? He visibly exhaled, silently thanking Sam for pulling the tension out of their conversation. 
❁ ❁ ❁
It had been a little over a week. And so far, things had been going great. 
By now, you had cleaned through the entire place once and set up a plan of what to do on which day. You weren’t surprised it actually took a full 6 days to cover every single room in Mr. Rogers’s apartment. You had already figured out which tasks were going to be your favorite and which weren’t. Like his bedroom. You liked doing that. Because even though the sheets were a bitch to get on the ginormous bed, you kind of liked the smell the room had. His pillows smelled of the cologne you couldn’t forget ever since the man had brushed past you on your very first day.
You were pretty sure you would never forget that since your knees literally felt like giving in at that moment.  
Today, it was bedroom day. That and the on-suite. 
With a smile on your face, you entered the apartment on the top floor, each day secretly hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the CEO before he took off to work. But even though you tried to arrive ten minutes earlier (you really couldn’t spare any more sleep for your own good), the first day remained an exception in Mr. Rogers’s daily schedule. 
You placed your bag on the stool at the open kitchen island, changed into some other shoes, and headed for the supply closet. Despite the size of the place, you actually got around pretty easily. Mr. Rogers was a very organized and neat man - you’d noticed that the first and only time you met him. So things were almost always where you’d think they would be. Which made your job just that much easier. But also prevented you from the advised ��not snooping’ you desperately wanted to do. 
You knew better though. 
People like Steve Rogers probably had cameras installed in this place. And you would certainly not go and rummage through his underwear drawer after he had personally told you not to. Who knows what strings powerful people like him could pull. So, for the sake of not waking up on a cargo ship to Madagascar one day, you restrained yourself as much as possible. 
Of course, you didn’t stop your eyes from wandering whenever you swept the shelves in his walk-in closet or closed the drawers in his office space. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. And this girl had a nosy best friend on her back that wanted to know every little detail of her new job... and was also way too invested in celebrity gossip.
Though, as always, there was nothing out of the ordinary today - there never was. Sure, it was still exciting to see how the filthy rich lived but other than that, no scandalous collection of women’s underwear, or drug lord papers lying around. You started to believe that Steven Grant Rogers was a very boring man. Not that you could properly judge in your position, seeing as you did not really know him, but the whole being in his home seemed a little too intimate not to do so. 
So that day you finished the tasks for the day, packed your stuff, and made your way back home, hoping to see him in the morning or to at least find something more interesting than dust in his home. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve greeted the concierge of his building when he entered the marbled entree hall. With a little frown and a look at his watch, the man greeted him back before he resumed his work. 
Yes, Steve was home earlier than usual. He regularly stayed even longer than his original work schedule intended. Today, however, he was home even earlier. But after another banter with Bucky about Steve’s non-existent sex life, he couldn’t imagine making it past five in the same building as his persistent best friend. So, he fled the office and decided to work through the rest of his papers at home. 
Of course, Steve knew that Bucky only wanted the best for him. But the ways he tried to approach the supposed bothersome loneliness Steve had in his bed just weren’t for Steve. Those might have worked on Tony - hell, Tony probably invented setting his friends up with one-night-stands - but not on Steve.
He huffed and swiped some loose hairs from his forehead as the elevator dinged at the top floor. The doors opened to the window front of his penthouse apartment and Steve stepped over the threshold, immediately stopping in his tracks when he took in the scene before him. 
The vacuum was running while you were kneeling on the floor, wiping up some water he only assumed came from the vase missing next to his sofa. He would have found it rather amusing if it weren’t for the way you carried yourself today. Something wasn’t right. 
Steve knew that you weren’t usually this messy - that much he could tell from the livestream that had become a constant in his office by now. Your head hung low, your motions hurried and sloppy. He watched as you swiped the floor, one of your sleeves constantly slipping down your arm again until you angrily pushed it up further than necessary. 
It was worrisome. 
He couldn’t place the feeling he felt in his chest when he sat his briefcase down and approached you from behind. His foot carefully turned off the vacuum and then he stood still, careful not to startle you when you finally looked up at him. 
He could see it in your eyes then. The panic, the uncertainty, and something else he hadn’t seen in them before.
You looked around you as if you were seeing the mess for the first time and when Steve was still watching you with an arched brow after a minute of silence, you suddenly sprung up to your feet. 
“I am so Sorry, Mr. Rogers. I didn’t realize it was this late already.” You turned a full 360 until your eyes landed on his again. “I’ll have this cleaned up in no time and I'll be out of your way. I promise.” 
Steve watched as you scrambled to gather the vacuum cord, struggling with it when it didn’t immediately snap back into the caster. “The subway was stuck in a tunnel for an hour because some guy decided to pull the emergency break for fun. And then this lady passed out next to me and when the fire department finally got us out and the paramedics packed her in the ambulance, I realized that I still had her purse.” You finally got the cord in turning so fast that the wet rag in your hands sprayed some water on Steve. “And do you know how difficult it is to find out which hospital they’re taking people? Because it’s so much more difficult than it looks in the movies. I didn’t know that! And then it was almost 10 a.m. when I got here. I am so sorry. This won’t happen again I promise-“
“Hey,” Steve finally stepped forward and caught your flailing hands with his and it shut you up. “It’s alright.” He spoke softly, guiding your hands down and proceeding to carefully stroke your arms down. “Are you okay? Do you need a day off?” 
Your doe eyes stared up at him, round and shiny as if you couldn’t believe he was actually standing in front of you. And Steve had to admit, besides the concern breezing through his body, your face was capturing up close. He traced your lashes with his gaze, the way your lips were parted slightly, your teeth showing past your upper lip, and the way your eyebrows were raised in shock. 
“No... no, I’m fine.” You finally stammered and it made Steve relax a little. 
“Then take a breath for me, please.” You nodded and Steve watched as your shoulders moved when you inhaled with your eyes closed. It shook Steve out of his trance. He cleared his throat and retreated his hands from your arms, awkwardly standing up a little straighter now that there was no excuse to touch you anymore. 
You were fine - that’s what you had said. But you didn’t quite seem that way. 
He watched as you opened your eyes and gifted him a small smile. Then your gaze dew to the floor and the mess you were standing in. Your smile turned awkward. 
“I’ll clean this up real quick and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 
Steve shook his head with a smile. Maybe this was a nice opportunity to do as Bucky had suggested. It was true, Steve hadn’t been interested enough before. Had he taken more time to know his former maids better, he could have probably prevented his things from being stolen and sold. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what Bucky had meant by ‘interested’, but Save decided it would do for now. “You can do what you need to and you can take as much time as you need to. I’ll be in my office for some time, so please don’t rush. I didn’t mean to freak you out by coming home earlier.” 
His arms reached up to scratch the back of his neck and your eyes landed on his bicep. Those damn doe eyes. “O- okay.”
He nodded, buried his hands in his pockets, gifted you a tight-lipped smile, and then proceeded to grab his briefcase and disappear into his office at the end of the hall. 
After some time, he heard the vacuum pick back up. Steve peaked through his open office door and caught a glimpse of you roaming his living room every now and then. It was relieving to know that you were functioning again. You had him worried for a second there - a feeling the successful CEO hadn’t welcomed in a hot minute. But it was kind of nice, made him feel a little more human than usual. So he didn’t mind having you work while he was home. On the contrary, actually, even though he had a huge stack of papers to go through, having to do them with a little bit of white noise was much more efficient than he had thought. He liked it when the occasional sound of items being set down snook its way to his office just to be interrupted by the vacuum again. And before he knew it, the workload he had taken home with him today, was worked through. 
Steve made his way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Though, as he waited for the machine, he found himself leaning against the counter and watching you work in front of him. You were currently bent over the sofa, arranging the cushions after shaking them out, your shirt riding up ever so slightly and exposing a strip of skin on your back. 
The fresh grounding of coffee beans covered the way Steve gulped loudly at the sight of you in front of him. This was definitely different than watching on his laptop screen. He felt his pants tighten ever so slightly as he imagined walking up to you and just taking you from behind. Your face would press into the pillows as he would easily push into you, hearing your drawn-out moans through the cushions. 
He couldn’t help himself, you were just so pretty. 
The smell of coffee drew Steve back to reality. It wasn’t that simple. Because Steve wanted you to want him as well. But you didn’t know him well enough yet. 
You pulled the vacuum around the corner and seconds later the sound of the storage room door closing echoed through the apartment. You walked back into the living room, adjusted the book on his coffee table, and then looked at your work with your hands on your hips. It was kind of cute to watch, Steve had to admit. 
“Well done,” Steve praised and your shoulders jerked in surprise. 
“Woah, didn’t see you there, Sir.” You relaxed again and then moved to change your shoes, before packing the other pair in your bag. You looked like you were about to leave, but Steve didn’t want that. 
“Would you like some coffee?” He offered and turned to grab the mug that was just filled with the steaming hot beverage. 
But you shook your head, raising your hands. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’m sure you’ve got work to do...”
“I wouldn’t have asked if it were an inconvenience.” 
You looked down and nodded, which made Steve smile and hand you the cup. Your hands encased it like it was a cold winter's day, timid looks roaming the room and landing everywhere but him. 
“You seem uncomfortable,” he tried, cautious not to intrude. 
“I’m not. It’s just that... I’m not used to,” you gestured around the kitchen, “all this.” 
“I know it sounds stupid but sometimes I feel the same.” Steve took in the high ceilings and shiny surfaces, the expensive paintings and furniture he had no part in picking out.
You just stared at him again before nodding and averting your eyes once more. It seemed like you were holding back, but Steve didn’t feel like he was in the position to ask. So he just had to do with your fleeting glances and diffident presence. It was fine for now. Though he didn’t know if he could actually stand it for long. 
“You got this job through Bucky’s assistant, right?”
“Natasha, yes. She’s my best friend.” Your eyes lit up and Steve celebrated the little victory in silence. He had finally found something to talk about with you. 
“How long have you known each other?” He took a sip of his own coffee, acting indifferent, though his gaze hung on your lips. 
“We’ve been friends since high school. But then we went to different colleges and for a moment, we lost contact. But when I called her after graduation, we reconnected. We coincidentally both moved to New York. It’s nice to have her back.”
“That does sound nice. I know a thing or two about reconnecting with old friends.” Steve smiled reminiscent. 
“Right, your business partner. Mr. Barnes.” You set your mug down when Steve shot you a surprised look. “Sorry, but it’s hard not to know things about you when every tabloid in the country has covered your story.”
Steve nodded, being reminded once again how different his life was now. Not that he didn’t appreciate it... it just used to be simpler. 
“Yes, Bucky is my oldest friend... we’d lost contact in-between as well. Now we spend so much time together, I sometimes wish it was that way again.”
“You don’t mean that,” you laughed and Steve swore it was the prettiest he’d ever heard. 
“Of course not.” He set his cup down once he noticed that you had finished your coffee and had grabbed your bag from the stool. 
“I should go,” you smiled sadly and Steve just nodded with a similar expression on his face. Then he pushed off the counter and walked you to the elevator. He caught your small wave before the doors closed, leaving his stomach feeling warm and fuzzy. 
This was definitely new.
❁ ❁ ❁
The next week was pure torture. 
Steve couldn’t work from home like he had wanted to. He also couldn’t go to work later to at least catch a ‘good morning’ from you. 
It had only lasted a couple more days. He had managed to trap you for a conversation with coffee two times after the first one and then it all went downhill from there. 
Steve’s work seemed to pile up in unusual amounts of papers on his desk. His e-mails and meetings were longer than ever and his frustrations built with every new message Sharon redirected to his phone.
It wasn’t until Bucky pointed out how unusually grumpy he was, that Steve realized, he missed you. How could that have happened? He barely knew you and talked to you even less than that. But he knew he was missing you. Because as silly as it sounded, the time he spent with you, he was more relaxed than ever before. 
“I’m headed home, now. Do you need anything before I go?” Sharon popped her head through the door of Steve’s office after the knock she placed there. 
Steve just sighed as he closed one of a dozen tabs on his computer. Then he shook his head. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bright and early!” She beamed and Steve just waved her off. 
The door fell shut once again and Steve moved to close a second tab. The one open beneath was the video footage of his home. It was paused because Steve had categorized it as ‘not suited for work’ once he saw you climb on his bed to straighten out the sheets and his dick reminded him just how deprived he really was. 
Looking at the paused video now, his pants tightened again. There you were, on all fours on his bed, tugging the sheet under the headboard side of his mattress - ass up and struggling. Fucking hell. 
His hand instinctively moved to his crotch to relieve some tension and then his eyes fell to his office door. Sharon had gone home. He was likely the only one left. His gaze wandered back to his computer screen and before he knew it, he was rubbing his hard cock through his pants. 
He groaned lowly at the feeling spreading through his body, the image on his screen just intensifying the scenarios he usually imagined when he got himself off. Because now they had your face. And your perfect body. If he squinted at the screen, he could actually see a sliver of your underwear peaking out the top of your pants. 
“Jesus Christ,” He pushed through his teeth when his hands worked to open his belt and pulled his rock-hard length out. He was already leaking from the angry red tip. 
His thumb grazed over his sensitive flesh, spreading the beads of precum and his whole body shivered when he imagined you doing it instead. His knees spread further apart in his office chair as he squeezed the base of his cock, concentrating on his breathing to slow. And then, without thinking, his other hand moved to play the video. 
Steve’s eyes never left the screen as he watched you tug the sheets tight. Your ass bounced up and down with the motion and he began to pump his shaft, imagining pushing into you from behind. Then you crawled back slowly, careful not to pull the sheet off again, but one corner came loose anyway. As you leaned forward, your new position seemed even more obscene - with your arms stretched forward and your ass still slightly lifted off the mattress. 
Steve’s fist pumped harder up and down his cock, he was panting. He could already feel the orgasm building. His balls were on the edge of bursting - but he wanted to hold out a little longer. 
For a second, his gaze jumped to the little speaker icon at the bottom right corner of his screen. His right hand still pumping with a tight grip, the left moved to slightly turn up the volume on the stream. 
Just then, you released a frustrated groan, followed by a throatier, softer noise that could almost be mistaken for a moan and Steve lost it. His fist stroked his thick cock in hard fast motions, the tingle in his body building with every heavy breath you released. His thumb grazed over his tip when you fell forward like a fawn and it was enough to make him burst. 
He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the chair. With a last firm push, he tumbled over the edge, squeezing his flesh as he felt the hot ropes of cum cover his hand. His heart beat in his ears once the ecstasy subsided, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.  
Steve stared at the ceiling, sighing in defeat. He was in deep now. 
❁ ❁ ❁
“So... how’s it going?” Nat’s voice rang through your speaker and you pressed your phone a little harder to your ear to hear her over the street noises. 
“It’s going really good. I don’t see him that often but he’s not messy at all, so it’s really not that bad.”
“Good, I’m glad!” Nat cheered on the other end of the line and you could hear her computer keys clicking beneath her fingernails. “Anything you wanna tell me?” Her tone was suggestive, and you kind of hated how well she knew you. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on, we’re stating the obvious here. He’s hot!”
“Nat!” You gasped appalled. “I’m not going around asking you if you think your boss is hot.”
“Why not? I'm not ashamed to admit it. My boss is hot,” she stated plainly and shorty after a distant ‘You got that right, doll!’ was heard through your speaker. 
“Oh my god,” you muttered, watching around you as if anyone could hear what Nat was saying. 
“So...?”
“Okay, yes he’s super hot and I wish he would just grab me with his big muscled arms and kiss the life out of me every time I see him. Are you happy now?”
“Yes, very.”
You waved at the concierge when you reached Mr. Roger’s apartment building and then stepped into the elevator. “Good. I can’t believe I just made me say that out loud.”
“We both know it’s true. No shame in a little crush.” You could practically hear her grin through the phone and it just annoyed you even more. How could she call you out when she was a mile away?
“Great, now I’m actually imagining kissing him and running my hands down his chest,” You huffed as the elevator door opened and turned the corner just to stop in your tracks. 
“I knew it!”
“Nat, I’ll call you later.”
“Okay, but-“ and then you ended the call as your eyes were glued to the kitchen counter. 
You stepped closer, your eyes never leaving where they had landed upon your arrival. There, on the polished black marble, stood a vase with a beautiful bouquet of pastel flowers. 
Your breath hitched in your throat as your fingers traced the colorful petals, and you leaned in to smell them. This was so sweet! A little giddiness shot through your body at the sight of the flowers. You’d never expected them from Mr. Rogers and it was nice to be appreciated. 
Feeling excitement all over, your fingers reached for the little white card lodged between a eucalyptus branch. But when you turned it over, all of it fell like someone had turned on gravity again. 
Happy one month!
Your mind repeated the words over and over again until they registered.
Happy one month.
You dropped the card and it made a dull clicking noise on the counter. How could you have been so naïve? Nat had put this stupid haze in your brain, getting you all giddy and excited. Of course, he had a fucking girlfriend. How could he not? He was Steve fucking Rogers.
You needed to take a step back and breathe. Those were a few too many emotions to feel in the early morning for you. Now you even felt guilty about wanting to run your fingers down his body. God, you’d even said it out loud - how embarrassing! 
“Okay, girl. Relax. Nobody heard,” you reminded yourself out loud. And then you took a deep breath with your eyes closed. 
“It’s not embarrassing if nobody saw. I’m the only one that can decide the level of awkwardness here.” Maybe stop talking to yourself then. You nodded and carefully placed the card back in the bouquet. 
“This never happened,” you whispered, more so to ensure yourself. “Just move on with your day.” 
Thank god it wasn’t kitchen day - you wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of those flowers any longer.
With your shoulders pulled back and your head held high, you made your way to the supply closet and got to work. 
It’s just another day. You reminded yourself when you pulled your cleaning supplies out and into the office. 
Just like any other day...
❁ ❁ ❁
Boy, had you never been any more wrong. 
Your phone rang at 7.30 that evening. You had already made yourself comfortable on your sofa, ready to binge a whole season of Gilmore Girls, after a successful day of pretending you hadn’t gotten the biggest turn-down of the century this morning. You had finished your cleaning plan, you had gone grocery shopping, bought yourself some own damn flowers, and even showered all before the sun had set. 
But now your phone rang and the caller ID could not mean anything good. 
“Hello?”
“Good evening!” Your name echoed through the speaker of your phone, a - for your taste - way too cheery woman on the other end. “I am very sorry I have to call so late. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“That’s alright, what do you need?” You bit your lip nervously, only dreading the next words of Mr. Rogers’s assistant.
“Well, actually it is not I that needs anything. Mr. Rogers requested for you to see him. Is that possible?”
“What? When?”
“Now would be amazing.” Your eyes widened at her words. Mr Rogers wanted to see you and it couldn’t wait until tomorrow? You must have done something horribly wrong. Oh, god, had he noticed you messed with the flowers? Had he seen you sniff his pillows? All possible scenarios of wrongdoing swarmed your head when you sprung up and bolted for your closet. 
“I can be there in thirty minutes,” you hurried through the speaker just to receive a satisfied hum from the other end. 
“Amazing! Thank you so much.”
She had hung you before you could even answer. It didn’t matter. You looked through your clothes, trying to decide what an appropriate ‘getting fired’ outfit would consist of - probably no sweatpants, so you could find the closest bar and drink your sorrows away in connection to the dreaded talk. 
You pulled out something, you could see yourself crying in and headed for the door.
❁ ❁ ❁
8.00 pm on the dot, the elevator doors opened to reveal a beautiful New York Skyline. Unfortunately, you neither had the headspace, nor the time to appreciate it properly. As soon as you turned the corner you saw Mr. Rogers casually leaning on the kitchen island. 
Instantly, you felt intimidated. He had never done anything to make you feel scared or in danger, but his mere presence was so powerful, you didn’t quite know how to act around him. Especially, because on top of it all, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on. 
“What did I do?” It just sprung out of you, your arms wanted to hug your body but you willed them still. He didn’t need to see how worried you really were. 
To your surprise, however, his face scrunched up in amusement instead. He pushed himself off the counter and gestured towards the flowers still standing proud on that polished marble top. 
“You forgot your flowers.”
“My... my flowers?” He nodded with a small frown, probably confused by your reaction. And to be honest, you were too. 
“Yes... I got you flowers. You’ve officially been working here for a month. That’s a record.” He shook his head with a chuckle and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m... very picky.”
His eyes met yours and a whole new wave of uncertainty washed over you. You didn’t miss the hesitation in his tone, the carefully chosen wording for something he didn’t exactly say. 
“So, I’m not fired.” God, why did it take so long for you to register. You just looked so stupid right now. 
“On the contrary.” Mr. Rogers took a step closer, though still keeping a respectable distance. “I think I can trust you. I’m very pleased with your work. You deserve them.”
“I do?” You looked up at him with big eyes when he took another step closer. He was so tall, you had to tilt your head up now that he was so near. 
“Can I trust you?”
His chest would almost touched you, if you were to breathe any heavier. Your breath hitched in your throat when the faint remains of his perfume reached your nose. It was as intoxicating - the way his eyes stared down at you - intense and looming. “Ye- Yes.”
“Good.” His voice was a raw timbre. His gaze drifted to the side, where his hand slowly reached up to lay on your shoulder. You felt warm and tingly from the touch. 
Not knowing what to do exactly, you just held your breath and stared up at his eyes. They were so blue - and up close, they were so much more captivating than any magazine photograph could ever display. 
You wanted to touch him, reach out, and pull him down towards you, but he had just told you he trusted you. Were you really going to risk this perfectly good job for a heated moment?
His other hand came up to graze your cheek with a careful touch and the worry of losing your job suddenly became very small. Mr. Roger’s hands were warm, his fingers almost hot even compared to your heated face. 
So you did it. Your hand reached forward and landed on the top of his chest, one of them traveled down the hard plane of his torso while the other clawed at his shirt collar. His thumb traveled to your lower lip, pulling it down and then stroking over the soft flesh, touching your teeth as well. 
Guided by the heat traveling through our body, your right hand tightened around his shirt and pulled him down and onto your lips. The blonde man jerked forward until his mouth crashed onto yours, immediately moving in perfect sync with yours. 
Your insides were tingling from the kiss when you felt his lips pull into a smile. His big hands roamed your body until they snook around your back, pulling you flush against his body and making you sigh contently. 
Mr. Rogers chuckled and then kissed you deeper. His touch was everywhere, yours too. Your mind was free of anything that wasn’t the tall, built, blonde man in your arms as soon as his tongue traced your bottom lip - asking for you to let him in. And you did just that. When he began to explore your mouth, you melted even further into his embrace. 
No man had ever kissed you like that. Which was why you dreaded the moment you had to pull away for air. 
Your hand landed on his cheek, thumb softly stroking his beard, eyes locked with his. 
“You’re very good at this.”
He just chuckled and pecked your lips once more. “Up.” He demanded, suddenly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you as if you weighed nothing. 
“What are you doing?”
“I'm gonna show you how good I am at this.” 
Then he set you down on the bed and pushed you back until your head hit the comforter. His scent, the one you’d secretly been craving ever since you started working here, engulfed you like a big blanket. He stood above you, big and broad-shouldered, looming over you like a wild animal. But you weren’t scared.
“You know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” His lips attached to your collarbone, sucking and licking bruises to your skin until you moaned beneath him and your hands clung to his hair. “I’ve been watching you,” he murmured to your neck and a shiver traveled down your spine. 
“I knew it,” you gasped when he reached a spot behind your ears that sparked more pleasure. The thought of him spending his day watching you made you all excited and impatient. 
“The way you stumble about this place when you clean it... How do you navigate the world being this clumsy, Bambi?” A whimper escaped you at the nickname he chose for you. “You need somebody to take care of you, huh.” 
You arched your back to brush up against him. His hard cock was already straining his pants, pressing into your own deliciously. “Ah, yes.”
“Don’t worry, Bambi, I’m right here. I’ll take real good care of you.” His fingers traveled down your body until they reached the hem of your jeans and began to tug on them. 
You pulled him down to your lips once more, guiding his head back to that spot behind your ear that had you squirming on the sheets. “So needy.”
His voice was so low and husky now, you barely noticed he had already worked your pants open and halfway down your legs. You kicked them off the rest of the way and arched yourself back against him just to have him grind down on your core. 
“Feel so good, so big,” you mumbled through the haze you already found yourself in. God, what was it with this man - he was out of this world. 
“You can’t wait any longer, can you, Bambi?” His hands moved beneath your shirt and began to massage your breasts. “But I get it. I don’t wanna wait any longer, either.” 
In a swift motion, he had you flipped on your stomach, his hands traveling to your hips to pull you on all fours in front of him. Then the bed dipped and you felt his fingers press to your soaked underwear. He rubbed the drenched fabric over your entrance, only driving you wild with need when his fingers reached higher to your clit. “So pretty.” 
“I need you,” you whined, “need you so bad.” 
“Believe me, I need you too.” He pulled the black lace over the curve of your ass and you felt the cool bedroom air hit your wet core, only making you shiver once more. 
“You’re so fucking perfect, you know that.” You could only whimper in response when his hand pushed your head into the comforter and his face suddenly pressed into your pussy from behind. 
“Oh, god.” A yelp escaped you as his tongue teased at your entrance, only to be pulled back to lick a long strip from your clit back to it. His hand massaged your cheeks and the constant moaning to your core shook you from the inside out. 
“This isn’t enough, is it, Bambi?” He dragged a strong finger up your spine. “You need me to fill you all the way up, don’t you? Need me to mark you, show everyone you’re mine.”
“Yes, yes, fill me up, give it all to me. Fuck me and make me yours.” You were so desperate at this point. His mouth had you squirming and aching for the promising bulge beneath his pants and you couldn’t wait to feel him raw - you’d let him do anything. 
You turned your head and watched as he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds, his cock sprung free from its restraints and your breath hitched in your throat. He was thick and long, a prominent vein running along his side up to his tip, pink and already decorated by a bead of precum. Of course, Steve Rogers had a pretty cock. What wasn’t perfect about him?
“You’re so wet already, Bambi. So ready for my fat cock, aren’t you? You’ll suck me right in, I just know it.”
“Please! I wanna feel all of you.” Another whimper got swallowed by the mattress when you waited in anticipation for him to finally fuck you. 
His one hand grabbed your ass and the other aligned his cock with your entrance. You could feel his head already breaching, a delicious stretch sending shocks through your body in hot and cold waves of pleasure. 
He groaned lowly and it sent shivers down your spine. “Relax, baby girl. You’re so tight. You’ll be so stuffed with me.”
“I need you de-. I- ah just please!”
He worked himself forward with small rocking motions, each time reaching a little deeper into your core and when you thought he was finally all the way in, he pushed even further until your ass was pressed flush to his thighs. 
You screamed into the covers and reached for something to grasp when he groaned behind you. “Gripping me like a vice, Bambi. Are you gonna be able to take it?” He shivered behind you and you could tell he was struggling to hold still until you answered him. 
“I can take it. Your big cock feels so good inside me. Oh, god, please move.”
“Fuck.” Wet noises filled the room when he drew back almost all the way, just to slam back into you. In this position the curve of his cock stroked your walls perfectly, making it hard to hold back the building orgasm. 
“I’m so close already, sir. I’m-”
“Fucking call me Steve,” he roared and pushed your face further into the covers. “You gonna come? Gonna squeeze my cock with your pretty little pussy already, huh?”
You could only whimper in response, the steady stroke of his body clouded your mind until you felt like you were floating. 
“I-“Another scream ripped through your speech when the pleasure exploded within you. Steve slowed his motions, seemingly unable to move with the way your muscles contracted around him. And when the pulsing pleasure lessened after what felt like minutes, he picked his pace back up again. 
“That was so sexy. You gonna do that again for me? I’m so fucking close.”
His hand reached around you and began to massage your clit in tight little circles and your body lifted off the bed. Steve had pulled you up flush against his chest and watched his hand work on your clit over your shoulder. 
“’S too much! Ah!” You were still pulsing around his cock with every circle he traced on your bundle of nerves, making your legs quiver.
“You’re doing so good, Bambi. You can give me another. Milk my cock dry.” He kissed your neck and bit your skin. “So fucking beautiful, how’d I get so lucky?”
“Steve!” You felt another wave of pleasure approaching, just for his fingers to still on your clit, his hand now pressing into your stomach. 
“I’m almost there, baby. Hold it a little longer.” His face fell into your neck and you could feel his cock twitch inside you while his hot breath licked down your shoulder. “Don’t you fucking cum until I say so.”
“I don’t know if I-“
“Yes, you can!” Steve pushed you until you fell onto all fours again and then guided your hips to meet his hard strokes. His movements became frantic and fast, making you lose your mind. 
“I’m gonna fill you to the brim, Bambi. Make you drip with my cum for days. You’re mine.”
“Steve! Steve!” You couldn’t hold it any longer, it was too much. He was so big, and his movements so fast, there was no way you were lasting any longer. 
“Wait. Almost there.”
“I can’t. I can’t! I’m- Oh my god!”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuck.” With one last hard slam, Steve shot his hot seed in your pussy. Your walls clenched with every lewd sound he pushed through his heavy breaths. “Cumming so much for you, Bambi. All for you. Uhnggghh.” He rutted into you a couple more times and once the intense feeling faded into lazy pulses, he fell forward and pulled you into his chest. 
Still buried deep within you, Steve pulled the covers over your bodies. Every little movement made you squirm and your pussy clench down again, drawing small grunts from the man behind you. 
“You did so good.” His hand stroked over your hair and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. “Now, rest. You deserve it.”
And with that, you let your body fall into its well-needed sleep - warm, content, and without a care for the morning.
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm. He smiled before he opened his eyes, his mind still reminiscing the night before. He felt warm and content at the thought of it. Your kiss was like nothing else.
He felt around his bed blindly after turning off the alarm only to be met by a cold mattress. Opening his eyes, he called out your name and sat up in bed. But when no answer sounded from his apartment, he got up and looked for you. After a few minutes of searching, he was sure you weren’t there. And it worried him. He had planned to order you breakfast. He wanted to talk about last night. He wanted to tell you how much it had meant to him. 
A look at the clock on his wall made him frown. Maybe you’d gone home to change for work. He decided to wait and get to work a little later today. It would all resolve itself, Steve was sure. 
But when seven rolled around, there was no sign of you. And even after another 25 minutes, there was no indication you’d show up soon. Steve really couldn’t push his time anymore. There was a lot of work waiting for him at the office. So he got up and grabbed his briefcase, only to be interrupted by his phone. 
“Good morning, Sharon.” 
“Good morning, Mr. Rogers. I’m just calling to let you know your maid just called in sick.”
“What? Until when?”
“She didn’t say. But she’ll call when she is better.”
“Do you know what she has?”
“I believe that’s private. Mr. Rogers.”
Steve just hummed absentmindedly. His brain already playing all the possibilities in his head. 
“Would you be so kind so send me her number?” He asked almost hesitantly, but still demanding enough for Sharon to agree right away. 
“Of course, one second.” And then his phone pinged with a message from his assistant. 
“Thank you.” Sharon just hummed in response and then she hung up the phone, ever the busy assistant he knew her as. 
Steve didn’t hesitate to call you right away. With every peep. His heart hammered faster in his chest. And when he was about to give up, a familiar rustling rang through his speaker. 
“Hello?”
Steve took a second to breathe and then he said your name - steady but careful. 
“Mr Rogers,” you sounded surprised, and Steve tried to suppress the sting in his heart at the sound of his last name. You had called him Steve just last night. Why’d you stop?
“Yes... I heard you’re sick. Do you need anything?” He cringed the second he said it. You obviously didn’t want anything from him given that you had fled from his apartment before he even woke up this morning. 
“No, no. I’m good thank you.” There was an awkward tension in the static connecting the two of you. But Steve didn’t understand where it came from. Had you not enjoyed last night. Had he only imagined the affection you gifted him then?
“Well... I hope you are able to come back soon.”
You huffed into the phone. “Uh, yes. Okay.”
“Alright, then. I’ll see you.”
“I’ll see you.”
And then the line went dead. And Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that you had sounded a lot colder than before...
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve had taken the next day off. His mind was too occupied to work, anyway. He had caught himself glimpsing at his video feed several times that day, even though he knew you weren’t going to show. He guessed, somehow that you would appear anyway. It didn’t happen of course.
So today, Steve had to learn to do nothing. That included not thinking of you as well. Because as much as the thought of you distracted him from work, not working wasn’t exactly the best move to get rid of his thoughts. 
First, he had tried to stay in bed until 6. That was hard enough. Then, he worked out a bit, read an article, made a smoothie - okay he ordered one - and then he sat on his sofa watching as the clock above his fireplace ticked to 7 a.m. 
It was ridiculous. If every hour would pass this slowly, he’d go insane.
His fingers taped on his thigh as he watched the seconds hand tick. He had to do something, anything. 
The moment this thought passed his mind, he heard the elevator door ‘ding’ at his level. And before he could even turn around, your bag hit the ground with a loud thud. 
Steve stood up straighter, adjusting a tie he was not wearing, but the motion had become a habit. He was excited you’d shown up - visibly well and healthy that was. 
You stared at him for a solid minute and neither of you said a word. Your stare was unintelligible to Steve. He had to admit, that he didn’t know you well enough to read into your silent conversation yet, but he wanted to - he wanted to so badly. 
His hands moved to clasp in front of him and then he cleared his throat, but as he was about to say something, you moved past him, straight to the supply closet, and then disappeared into his guest bedroom. 
He followed you before he could tell his feet to stop, halting in the doorway of the room and watching as you dusted off the tall shelves above the sideboard. 
“What are you doing?” His voice was higher than he anticipated. 
“I’m working,” you answered bluntly, moving to the next object to dust off. 
“Why?” Steve had promised to provide for you just the other night. And, yes, while he might have been hazy from the incredible pleasure you had created, he had meant every word.
You suddenly turned to him with an angry stare. “I’m working because, unlike other people, I can’t just do whatever I want and not deal with the consequences,” you spat and then turned around again. The dusting motion turned a little more aggressive and Steve felt a cold shiver run down his back. Feisty.
Though, Steve couldn’t quite place your anger. Had he said something to offend you? How did the other night play into any consequences and why the hell were you working still? You’d said it yourself, you wanted to be his. And that was all he ever wanted. It just didn’t make sense.
Steve didn’t move. He just stood there like an idiot and watched you work your anger away on the poor dusty decorations of his home. You obviously didn't want to talk to him and he had no idea what to say to you. So he just watched... and watched until at least ten minutes had gone by. 
You were at a completely different corner of the room by now, trying to grab a book to dust off, but couldn’t quite reach. Steve had been standing in the doorway this whole time so he just assumed he was blocking your way to a ladder. But he took it as an opportunity instead. 
In three Long strides, he had walked up to you, reached for the item you stretched toward, and handed it to you. And for a second there, he could see those doe eyes return to your face, staring up at him.
Maybe he had misread the situation after all because your gaze drew him in again. He slowly closed his eyes before he could reach your lips, excitement rising in his veins when he thought back to the feeling of your lips on his–
*smack*
His eyes shot open when your hand collided with his cheek, a fire flickering in your eyes that made him take a step back, holding his heated skin. 
“You don’t have to mock me, okay?! I know it’s embarrassing and it’s stupid what we did, so please don’t make this more difficult.”
“What?” Steve was baffled, hurt. 
It was stupid what we did. Your words echoed in his mind until your voice penetrated the mantra. 
“Just leave me alone. Don’t you have work to do?”
He shook his head with an aching heart. You really had no idea. You thought he had used you, made you a bed bunny like Tony or Bucky would - he’d never do that. “I called in sick. I was so... forget it.”
You resumed cleaning and Steve just stood in your way watching. His chest stung with every second he spent with his eyes glued to you, knowing what you thought of him. He couldn’t stand it. He never wanted to make you uncomfortable, much less convey he’d only use you. 
“Can I ask you a question?” You ignored him, but he could see your movements stagger for a second. “Do you really regret what we did?”
Then you paused, your eyes trained to the surface in front of you. When you finally looked at him, Steve could see the tears shimmering in them. 
“No,” you whispered softly, Steve had almost missed it had his heart not skipped a beat. 
He instinctively stepped closer to you again, though cautious not to scare you away. He’d come this far and didn’t want to mess it all up again. “Then why are you ignoring me?”
“I'm not ignoring you.” It shot out of you like a bullet. You sighed, took another breath, and set the duster down. “We don’t know each other. We live in completely different worlds. There is not one scenario in which we could exist together as anything more than... this. I know that now.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re you and I’m just the maid.” You gestured to Steve and then yourself and Steve hated the way you degraded yourself just because he had a couple dollars more in his bank account. It wasn’t right. 
He shook his head, his hand reaching out to you but dropping just before he could actually touch you, curbing into a soft fist instead. “And what if I told you that you are much more to me than that?” Now he finally dared to lay his hand on your cheek, tilting your head so he could come closer to you and still stare into your eyes. “I like you. And the night– ever since you came into my life, my days seem just so much less dull.” 
He smiled with shiny eyes, afraid your silence would last forever. ���Please say something, Bambi.”
“You like me?” There was awe and disbelief in your voice and Steve wanted to kiss it away until every last doubt was erased from your mind. Whoever had made you this insecure about affection would eat his fist. 
Steve bit his lip to hide the chuckle threatening to spill. “I do.”
He slowly got lost in your eyes again. Those beautiful innocent orbs looked at him like he was a different type of special. He loved it so much. 
His gaze dropped to your lips, slightly parted and full, and then back up. And before he could lose himself in them again, your hands latched onto his collar and pulled him down toward you. 
The kiss was all tongue and teeth, need and desperation melting into sighs and tingles - he could feed off of it forever. His hands roamed your body and pressed you deeper into his. Your arms reached around his neck as your noses bumped against each other in eager anticipation. 
Nothing ever felt this right. Steve couldn’t possibly believe you’d doubted the chemistry for a second. Not when it felt like that. But he wouldn’t need to think back on it anymore now... now that he finally had you.
I couldn't decide which GIF to use, so here are some extras!
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If you’ve read this far, I would be so happy to receive a comment or reblog. It helps writers reach more people in the community and also improve themselves. So, if you have the time, please consider giving me some feedback :) until next time ~Meg 💞
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f1girliefics · 5 months
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Livestream
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Oscar Piastry x Streamer!Reader
Summary: You are a streamer and your boyfriend decided to crash your stream. 
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You have been streaming for about an hour when he started to ask questions and interrupt your gameplay.
Having Oscar home finally was a blessing, but his constant questions about cooking were really distracting.
So much so that even your chat now paid more attention to him.
Even when he wasn't on stream, they would ask about him, and ask you to bring him.
You knew many of them just wanted to see him, but there were a couple of people who just wanted to see the two of you together.
Today, when you started streaming you made it clear to your viewers that Oscar would only be on stream if they can behave and if he decides to show up.
You will not force him to be there and neither should they.
Some people left but most understood and stayed.
Currently, you were playing The Sims when you started to notice people saying Hi Oscar in the chat. You looked behind and there he stood.
"I think the stairs should be here. And you can put a basement down here." he said. You did as he said but, it wasn't good enough. "No, no. Here." he grabbed your mouse and moved the stairs, removing a window and you slowly stood up from your chair as he sat down. "You have a lot of money, let's buy some paintings." 
You stood there, watching your boyfriend rearrange and redecorate the house you spent hours on, sometimes he asked chat what plants to buy or where to put more flowers.
He has even redone your garden. 
Oscar completely stole your chat and you weren't even mad about it. 
The house he made was amazing.
When he was done, he looked at you and you sat down to play.
"Thank you." you said as he moved to the kitchen to prepare some dinner. "Well chat, now you all know who decorated our apartment." you laughed a little. 
A couple hours later you smelled smoke.
"Oscar?!" you yelled as you rushed out the room only to find him in the kitchen standing above a burnt pan.
"I was trying to make some pasta." he said.
"Pasta?" you looked at the pan, black. "You need water for that. How did this happen?" you laughed.
"I left it for just a moment, when I left it had water, when I came back it was burnt." you laughed even harder.
"Let's open the windows and order some food, you can come play with me while we wait."
"Sounds good." he smiled.
"Chat, I brought him back because he burnt our dinner so we are waiting for the delivery now." Chat was happy to see him back. "Maybe our next live can be some easy cooking so you all can see Oscar's love for cooking.
He rolled his eyes but laughed.
You continued to play but soon moved to a race game which was more Oscar's world.
You two raced against each other, and surprisingly, you won a couple rounds, which made you extremely suspicious.
"Don't let me win out of pity!"
"I'm not! You took the McLaren, I had to take the Ferrari!" he pouted.
"Oh, makes sense." you laughed and so did chat.
Let's just say that this little conversation became a huge meme within the community.
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/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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samandcolbyownme · 7 months
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Summary: anon request - "Can u make a colby one where him y/n Kat and Sam are live and y/n and Colby are drunk it can be fluff or smut Idc"
Warnings: strong language, alcohol consumption, heavy flirting, sexual innuendos, sexual tension between reader and Colby, drunk actions, fluff with a dash of filth containing fingering, handjob, sensual stuff but hottt
Word count: 4.9k | somewhat edited I don’t really know if I like this one all that much… I might rewrite it after I get more requests out.
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
"I can't believe you talked me into doing this." You look at Kat in your mirror as you rummage through your clothes.
She laughs, "Oh come on. There will be alcohol so you can just relax, drink and hang out."
"You had me at alcohol." You laugh and hold your a top, "Hows this?" She tilts her head and purses her lips, "mm. It's cute, but I think you need something different."
"Is that what you're wearing?" You point to her outfit and she nods, "Yes." You hold your hand up, "Hang on."
You walk out to your living room, grabbing a box of clothes that you got sent, "There might be something.." you dump the box, ".. in here."
"Oh yeah. Most definitely." Kat nods with a laugh as she goes through the clothes, "Ooh, this. Definitely this."
Your eyes move over the black, lacey tank top that's in her hands, "A cute skirt or a pair of jeans will make this so much better." She adds and tosses it to you.
You catch it and nod, "I'll try it on."
"Well hurry up, we have to be at Sam and Colby's in the next hour." She lays back, scrolling on her phone as you change.
"Did you say Colby?" You walk out slowly and she smiles up at you, "I did.."
"He's doing this livestream with us?" You fix the tank top so it sits right, "Is this some sort of set up by you and Sam?"
She sits up with a sigh, "You got us." She raises her hands, "I think it'll be fun. Plus we'll be live, so it's not like anything crazy can happen.
You drop your hands and they slam on your thighs, "have you seen your livestreams?"
She holds her hands up, "it wasn't my idea. It was Sam's." You scoff, trying not to laugh, "But you went with it."
"If it makes you feel any better, it'll be just you and me at first. Sam offered for him and Colby to join us once they got back from meeting someone about a place they're going next week. Also. Speaking of. We're going with them."
You groan and turn to look in the mirror, "Fine." You smirk at her in the mirror, "But only because you're going."
"Whatever you say, y/n." She rolls her eyes and laughs, "Now come on. We gotta get going. I tweeted that we'll be on by six and it's almost five thirty."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"Ready?" Kat looks over at you and you fix yourself in the screen of the computer, "Okay, yes now I'm ready."
You lean back in your chair and watch as she starts, waiting for people to join, "Hi guys! How are you?"
"Hey!" You smile and hold up your hand, reading the comments that are starting to flow in, "Oh thanks. Kat actually dressed me tonight. So tell her."
You laugh and look over at her. She smiles, "Yeah, I'll take credit for that because you look.." she licks the tip of her finger and lays it on your arm, "Tsss."
You laugh as she makes a sizzling sound, "I do. I do."
"Alright. So Sam and Colby will be joining us a little later, but for right now. I figured y/n and I could start off with a little game."
"Oh god." You mumble and watch as she puts a bottle of alcohol and two shot glasses on the stand in front of you two, "Oh no." You laugh and look over at her, "What game do you have planned?"
"Just a little.. do or drink." She smirks, "Nothing bad I promise." She pulls out a small box containing cards and opens it, "Alright. You want to go first?"
You sigh, "You know what? I will." You laugh and pull out a card, "Hmm. Okay." You turn to her in your chair and look up at her, "what is one thing.. you dislike about me?"
"Oh gosh." She blinks as she thinks for a moment, "Honestly, I hate the way that you can just roll out of bed and look good."
You smile and bat the air, "Stop it."
She laughs, "I'm serious. You're just that pretty."
"Well thank you." You laugh slightly and motion towards the box, "Pick your poison."
She reaches up, picking one of the cards, "Ooh my god." She giggles and lays the card over her lips. You lean forward, "Oh no. What is it?"
She smirks, "Send 'can't wait to see you' to the last person you texted or drink."
You pull your phone out, and go to your messages, looking at the threads, "The last person I texted was.." you laugh slightly, "Katrina."
"Who is it?" She wheels herself over and leans around to look at your phone, "Oh. You have to. You freaking have to, y/n."
You bite your lip as you tap on Colby's name, Can't wait to see you.
You lean forward after locking your phone and read the comments on the screen, "Sorry guys. That's a secret." You laugh and lean back, looking up at Kat when your phone goes off.
She motions for you to read it and you can't help but laugh, "They said, are you and Kat playing that stupid drinking game?" You shake your head as you type back, maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm excited to see you.
"Y/n. Damn. You're not even drunk yet." Kat looks at you shocked and you shrug, "Oops." You smile and reach up to pull a card, "Name a couple that you think should break up."
Without any hesitation she pours a shot, "I cant pick just one.." she laughs and takes the shot, instantly chasing it with her water, "Oh gross."
She grabs another card and smirks, "Y/n."
You tilt your head, "Kat."
"Out of.. let's say, me, Sam, and Colby, who is your favorite?" She smirks and you sigh, "I know I'm going to hurt feelings with this one.." you pause and look into the camera then back to Kat, "..pour me a shot."
"Are you not going to answer?" She laughs and you shake your head, "No because it'll hurt their feelings when I say you." You laugh and she throws her head back laughing, "Oh my god. That's great."
You read the comments and see that people are debating on whether it's Colby, even from the previous question.
"Oh god." You groan and take your shot, cringing at the taste, "That's so gross."
She leans in, whispering quietly, "We're you going to say Colby?" You smirk and lean back, looking at her as you nod.
"Ha. I know who her favorite is." She says in a sing song-y tone before she laughs, "It's still me."
You laugh and grab a card, "Katrina. Who was the last person that seen you cry?"
"Like, a sad cry or happy cry?" She asks and you shrug, "Just in general I think." She hums, "Probably... Sam, I think. Or you. I'm with you both so much."
"We might as well just live together at this point." You laugh and she nods, "Honestly. Okay.." she grabs a card and clears her throat, "Have you ever been to a strip club?"
"Like working or visiting?" You try to not smile but fail, "I'm joking you guys. Relax. No I haven't ever been to a strip club."
"I can see it." Kat laughs and you gasp, "Hey." She lays a hand on your knee, "If it makes you feel any better you'd definitely have a big client list, and I know who number one would be." She winks and tries not to laugh so she covers her mouth, "I'm sorry."
You laugh, "oh my god. I need more alcohol for this." You get up, "I'm going to get a white claw, do you-"
"Yes." She cuts you off and points, "Please."
You give her a thumbs up, "I'll be right back." You quickly make your way down the steps and into the kitchen. You open the fridge and grab as many white claws as you can carry.
Colby's voice makes you jump, "Thirsty or something?"
"Goddam it, Colby. I didn't hear you guys come in." You laugh slightly and he walks over, offering to help, "I'm heading up there now, I can take some of these for you."
"Okay." You hand him a couple and look up at him, "Thank you." He smirks, "So.. did you mean to text me earl-"
"I have to get back to Kat." You cut him off, "We can talk about this later." You smirk slightly as you walk away and Colby follows you, "Oh we definitely will be talking about a lot later I can guarantee that."
His words make your cheeks red and warm as you walk into the room Sam and Kat are in, "Out of my chair, Golbach."
You kick it and he spins around, "Excuse me?"
You smirk and hand him a drink, "Now move." He laughs and gets up, moving to sit behind Kat in the beanbag chair. Colby next to him, behind you.
You hand Kat her drink and you both crack one open, cheersing before you each take a sip.
"What the hell. You guys are like.. that was so in sync." Sam shakes his head looking between you and Kat.
You laugh, "That's what happens when you're best friends for this long." Kat tilts her drink towards you, "Correct. Okay. Now where were we?"
"My turn to ask you or one of the boys a question." You smirk as you pick up the card, "Ooh. Colby." You spin your chair towards him, hiding the card so he can't see it, "what's the last thing you googled?"
"Oh snap. Um. Can I look?" He asks pulling his phone out and you nod, "Yes, but you have to show us."
His mouth drops slightly before he sighs, "Fine, I have no shame around you guys anyway." He unlocks his phone and laughs, "oh my god. I totally forgot that I even searched this.." he turns his phone around, showing you and Kat, "I googled if dogs can understand me."
Sam laughs loudly, "Are you serious?" He grabs the phone and starts laughing again, "Oh my god, Colby!"
You and Kat are laughing in your chairs and Colby sighs, "It's a valid question, damn." He reaches up between you and Kat, kinda close to you.
You chew on the inside of your lip as you smell his cologne. It's the same one you got him for Christmas a few months ago.
He moves back and sighs, "Alright. Sam. This one is for you." He turns towards Sam, "What is the most embarrassing things you have ever done?"
Sam sighs, "twerking on that cruise."
You and Kat look at each other and laugh, "Oh my god." You look at Sam, "I forgot about that."
Sam chugs some of his drunk, "Yeah, I haven't." He laughs and leans forward, giving Kat a kiss on the cheek as he reaches for a card.
You glance up at the screen, looking at Colby through the camera, and he smiles at you, looking away, "who's it for?"
Sam laughs slightly, "y/n. What's the dirtiest text you ever sent to someone?"
Colby clears his throat, "Yeah, y/n. What's the dirtiest text you've ever sent to someone." He shrugs as he smirks and you lean up, pouring yourself a shot and taking it.
You wash it down with your drink and sigh, "That's for me to know and no one else to find out."
You grab a card, laughing slightly as you look at Kat, "Katrina. If you had to kiss someone who isn't your boyfriend, who would it be?"
She shrugs and laughs slightly, "That's easy."
Sam leans forward, "Oh is it?"
She looks at Sam, laughing as she points to you, "Y/n."
He raises his eyebrows, "Huh. Not where I thought that was going."
"Prove it. Prove it. Prove it." Colby chants quietly behind you guys and you look at him, "Maybe when I'm a little bit more drunk."
He chuckles, "Mhm."
Kat picks up a card, glancing at Sam before taking a deep breath, "y/n. What's your biggest turn off?"
You suck air between your teeth, "Probably insecurity. Like..for example.." you shift around in your seat, "..if I wanted to wear this out to a bar or something, who ever I'm with shouldn't get mad at me for it you know?"
Kat nods, "Oh hell yeah, girl. Like who ever you're with.." she glances to Colby and smirks, "They should know that you're only looking good for them. Not fight with you about it."
"Exactly. Yes." You can feel the alcohol settling in, along with Kat because you're both super giggly.
You pick up a card and read it. You can tell Colby is staring at you, you can feel it.
So you turn to him with a smile, "Colby."
"Y/n." He smiles and tilts his head as he brings his drink up to his lips.
"This is actually an easy one. Take three shots or quit playing." You watch as he nods, "Give me three shots."
One by one, you pour him shots into your shot glass and hand them to him.
"Still got it." He laughs and points, "Hand me a card please." You reach up, grabbing a card and handing it to him.
He leans back, "Kat. What is the biggest secret you kept from your parents growing up?"
She sighs, "oh no." You lean forward, "Oh Katrina. Do tell." You rest your elbow on your knee, chin in your palm and she sighs, "I was somewhere I wasn't supposed to be. I was to be at my friend Lauren's house but we were at a party in some persons basement.. drinking."
You bat the air, "Oh we've all done that."
"Really? You partied when you weren't supposed to?" Colby laughs, "I don't believe that." You roll your eyes and stand up, "Pause. I have to pee."
Kat laughs, "Enjoy your pee."
"You guys are drunk." Sam says, and you can tell he's moving to your chair.
You go to the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror. You take a deep breath, but you can't help but giggle as you think about Colby.
His hand around his drink when it really should be around your neck.
His rings pressing against your skin in all the right ways.
His lips, dragging up and down the skin or your neck.
You bite your lip, laughing slightly as you shake your head, pushing the thoughts out to do your business.
Once you're done, you make your way back to the room and take Sam's spot. You sit down, and they all look at you.
"What?" You ask pointing to your drink. Kat hands it to you and she shakes her head, "Nothing. We were just waiting for you." She laughs and hands you a card.
You read your card to yourself, smirking as you look at Colby, "What is your least favorite thing about me?"
Sam gives a low, "Oooh shit."
"Bold." Kat whispers and you can tell she's secretly cheering you on. She crosses her leg over the other, staring intently between you and Colby, "Well? Colby. Are you going to answer or.."
He smirks and shakes his head, "I'll say it. But I'm not saying it for everyone to hear."
Your heart rate picks up as you perk up, unsure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
"Where's the fun in that?" Sam groans, "Say it. Say it. Say it."
Colby reaches over, grabbing your arm to pull you over to him. You lean into him naturally and he rests his cheek against yours, whispering as quiet as possible, "The only thing I don't like about you, is the fact that you're not mine."
He slowly leans away, smirking at you as you look at him, "Really?"
He nods, "Yeah, it's real annoying, actually."
You look down as you try not to smile, but you fail so you cover it with taking a sip of your drink.
"What did he say?" Kat leans forward, almost falling off her chair but your laughing distracts everyone until Sam yells, "Colby!" He hands him a card, "your turn, brother."
Colby takes it, nodding as he laughs slightly, "this one is for both of the girls."
You and Kat look at each other, "Oh no."
"The girls must take three shots in a row, or quit playing." Colby tosses the card down and looks between you and Kat.
"Give me the glass." You hold your hand out and Colby gently places it in your hand, he still had it from when he took his three.
Sam pours both, you and Kat's shots and you clink the small glasses each time before taking the shots, laughing as you finish the third.
"They're about to be fucked up." Sam laughs and Colby shakes his head, "Yeah, yeah they are." He looks to you, winking as you lean back in the chair, "Kat, you can go."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
At this point, you all are feeling pretty damn good. If you stood up, you feel like you could fall over, but you had no issue moving closer to Colby.
The drunker you got, the more you wanted to be with  him. Next to him. Anything.
Kat and Sam are talking, reading the comments and laughing together as you and Colby have a quiet conversation behind them.
"Did you mean what you texted me earlier?" He whispers leaning in and you nod, "yeah..yeah. I did actually." You look up at him with a smile, "if I'm be-"
"Y/n!" Kat yells your name and you look over at her, "What?!"
She laughs, "Tell them.. tell them about when we went to the mall and that lady who walked into us."
Your eyes go wide, "Oh my god." You start to laugh, "We were walking out of the one store and this lady ran into us, started bitching that we needed to watch where we were going and not even ten seconds later, fucking walks right into the one sign." You laugh with Kat, "Fucking smacks her face and spills her coffee all over her white dress. Ah. It was hilarious."
Colby stares at you, smiling as he admires how pretty you are when you laugh, "She sounds like she deserved it."
You look at him, leaning over as you nod, "Oh yeah. Totally deserved it."
Colby leans in, whispering in your ear, "You know you're so pretty when you laugh." He leans back and smiles at you.
You roll your eyes and lean over, laying a hand on his knee as you support your weight to put your lips next to his ear, "I'd look even prettier under you."
You were way past feeling bold.
He laughs slightly, taken aback by what you said, "Really?"
He spoke loud enough to catch Sam and Kat's attention and he looks up at them. You look up at them and start laughing, "Oh my god."
"Wanna share with the rest of the class?" Sam laughs and you shake your head, "No not really."
Colby leans over, resting his head on your shoulder, "We're just having our own little convo back here so mind ya biz." He laughs and you laugh, resting a hand on his head as you lean into him more.
Colby moves his head up to kiss your neck and you giggle, laying a hand on his shoulder.
"Whoooaaaa colbyyyyy!" Sam drags out his yell, "Whoa whoa whoa."
Kat's mouth is open, staring as Colby leans up, "Oh stop it. How can you not look at her."
"Colby." You lean over, "You're drunk."
He leans in, close to your face, "So are you."
"So are we." Kat laughs as she leans forward, resting her head on Sam's leg, "This is so much fun though." She sits up, "We should play a game. Just one more game."
"Ooh, I'm down for another game." You bite your lip and nod, "Whatcha got in mind?"
"Most likely? The person that everyone votes. Drinks." Kat smirks, "Please."
"Only because you're so pretty." Sam reaches over squeezing her chin and she smiles, "Alright. Sam you start."
He chuckles, "Alright.. uhh.. let's see.." he snaps, "who's most likely to accidentally find a portal to another dimension?"
Instantly everyone points to Sam, laughing.
"Wh- oh come on." He groans, "Why me?"
"Because you're always going off on your own when we're doing investigations, Sam." Colby laughs and Sam sighs, taking the shot from Kat, "I walked into that one."
"Yeah, just like you will a portal." You mumble and fall over onto Colby's lap as you laugh.
Sam glares at you and Kat pats his leg, "She said what we're all thinking." She sighs, "Okay. I'll go." She leans back in her chair, "Who's most likely to get a random tattoo on a night out?"
Colby points to you while the rest of you point to him and he scoffs, "What the hell?"
"I honestly think I would, so I'll take a shot with you." You smile and take the glass, holding it up for Kat to pour you and Colby a shot.
He smiles, "Aw how sweet of you."
"You have no idea." You mumble as you cheers him, taking the shot like nothing, "Alright. I'll go." You set your glass down, biting your lip as you think.
You laugh slightly as you sigh, "Who's most likely to have handcuffs in the bedroom." You raise your eyebrows and smirk, "one.. two.. three."
You and Sam point to Colby and Kat and Colby point to Sam.
Sam and Colby look at each other and start laughing. Kat turns to you, "They have matching ones." You look at Colby, "Do you?"
He shrugs, "Maybe." His eyes move to you as his bottom lip pulls between his teeth. You raise an eyebrow, "Mm."
Colby leans back, "Who's most likely to lose their clothes on a night out?" His eyes move to you and everyone is pointing to you.
"Huh!? Why me?" You point to yourself, "I don't lo-"
"Yes you do. Last weekend you lost your coat and one of your shoes." Kat laughs, "I'm not judging but it would be you."
You laugh, "Okay. Okay. That- it was a coat and a shoe." You argue, "But fine. I'll take it."
"When you lose it here at least you'll know where to find it." Sam mumbles and you about spit out your shot, "Shut it, Golbach."
He laughs and shrugs, nodding to Colby, "I'm just saying."
Kat looks at the screen and taps Sam, "They want to know what you said."
"No." You say quickly, "It's fine." You laugh and rest your head back, "who's most likely to have a new ghost up their ass each week." You lift your head and look at Sam, "Hmm?"
"That is so.. that's so not true." He huffs, trying not to laugh. You tilt your head, "Oh yeah? Then why does everyone you do an investigation with say you're the one they'll go for?"
"You know what?" Sam sets his drink down on the desk and turns, staring at you while Colby and Kat are dying with laughter over you and Sam arguing, "Who's most likely to.." he pauses, trying to think of something, but just sighs, "I got nothing."
"Ha! Suck it." You laugh and sigh, "I need to lay down. Those shots are kicking my ass." You stand up, holding onto the back of Kat's chair, "Goodnight party people, y/n is tapping out."
"Night!" Kat yells before yawning, "Yeah I might.. I might be done too."
You walk out, hoping Colby follows you, but you can still hear him talking to Sam and Kat.
You bite your lip, making your way into his room, shutting the door quickly behind you. You turn, eyes scanning over his room as you walk over to his bed, unbuttoning your jeans.
You walk over to his dresser, grabbing one of his shirts and walking over to the bed. You toss it down, stripping down to just your panties before sliding his shirt over your head.
You move the blankets, sitting down and swinging your legs onto the bed before covering up. You move around, getting comfy before you take a selfie and send it to Colby.
You lay your phone down, turning away from the door as you hear footsteps coming closer. His door opens quietly and you bite your lip, not moving.
You feel the bed dip down next to you and you feel a hand lay on your waist, "Whatcha doin' in here, pretty girl?"
You slowly roll over onto your back, "Your bed is comfier than the one in the guest room."
"Is that so?" He brushes hair from your face, "You can sleep here anytime you want."
"I plan on it." You smile as you giggle and he tilts his head, "Yeah?"
You nod, "Oh yeah." You lay a hand on his, slowly dragging it up and down his arm, "So you really weren't the last person I texted.."
He furrows his brows, "Huh?"
"Kat was the last person I texted, but I wanted to text you so I just said you were." You look up at him and he smirks, "you're so pretty."
His thumb brushes against your cheek, "What made you change your mind?"
You let out a sigh, "I'm happy when I think about you. When I'm with you. Talking about you." You shrug, "You make me happy. I was just too stu-"
He cuts you off with his lips on yours.
He leans back slightly, "You're not stupid."
You laugh slightly, "If I wasn't we would have been to-"
"Don't. You had your reasons and now we're here." He turns your head to look at him, "Drunk in my bed.." he kisses your cheek, "Speaking those sober thoughts."
You laugh slightly, laying a hand on his cheek, "Mhm."
He turns his head, kissing the palm of your hand, "You have no idea how many times I've wanted to just come pick you up and bring you to my bed."
You bite your lip, "really?"
"Not even for sex or anything.. I mean, yeah.." he laughs slightly, "I've thought about you in so many ways, but mainly just to be with you. Holding you." His hand slides down your body, slipping under the covers, "Tell me to stop and I will."
"Don't." You say quickly and spread your legs, "Please don't."
He leans in, kissing down your neck, "Tell me what you want, babe."
"You." You whisper and look up at him, "I want you."
He slips his hand into the band of your panties, "I've dreamed of hearing those words."
You whimper slightly as his fingers press down to your clit, "Colby.." you moan quietly as he draws small circles.
"You're all I think about." He gently bites down on your jaw, "I swear, you've taken over my life but in the best way."
You turn your head, crashing your lips onto his, making out slow as he slowly slides his fingers down, dipping them inside of you
You dig your nails into his arm, arching your back as you pull yourself closer to him. You slip your hand down and slip them into his sweats.
He groans lowly as you stroke him, “That feel good?” His voice is low against your lips, “Tell me.”
“So, so good, Colby.” You squeeze his fingers, whimpering as you feel yourself growing closer to the edge, “Fuck..”
“Your sounds are so beautiful.” He leans back, moaning as you swipe your thumb over the head of his cock, watching as your face scrunches and your eyes flutter shut.
“I-I need you..” you whimper, squeezing your hand around his cock, “Please.”
“Let’s just take it slow, babe. We’ll get to that.” He kisses your lips, “I promise.”
You nod, tilting your head back as you moan, “Fuck, fuck.”
“Cum for me, pretty girl.” Colby rests his forehead against your temple, “You’re so close.”
You turn your head, looking over at him. He presses his lips to yours, moaning against them as you continue to slowly stroke his cock, “C-Colby.”
“All about you baby. I’m okay.” He speeds the thrusts of his fingers up, watching as you squirm under him, “Come on, pretty girl. You can do it.”
His words egged you to cum more, “Fuck.” You whimper and the knot that’s been working in your belly snaps.
You gasp, arching your back as your thighs squeeze his arm, “Shit, shit, shit.”
“That’s it, baby girl. That’s it.” Colby whispers as he peppers your face with kisses, slowly pulling his fingers out.
He brings them up to his lips, licking them off with a groan while you watch in awe. He reaches down, slipping your hand from his sweats and lays next to you, pulling you into him.
Your body fit perfectly into his, like you were made for him.
“I just want to lay with you.” He whispers as he twirls your hair, “We can get to that other stuff later.”
You weren’t going to argue with him. You’re just glad you’re there.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Hi hello sorry for the late update. I’ve been super sick lately. I hope you enjoy this!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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Text
A media literacy handbook for Israel-Gaza
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Next Tuesday (Oct 31) at 10hPT, the Internet Archive is livestreaming my presentation on my recent book, The Internet Con.
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Media explainers are a cheap way to become an instant expert on everything from billionaire submarine excursions to hellaciously complex geopolitical conflicts, but On The Media's "Breaking News Consumers' Handbooks" are explainers that help you understand other explainers:
https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/otm/segments/breaking-news-consumers-handbook-israel-and-gaza-edition-on-the-media
The latest handbook is an Israel-Gaza edition. It doesn't aim to parse fine distinctions over the definition of "occupation" or identify the source of shell fragments. Rather, it offers seven bullet points' worth of advice on weighing all the other news you hear about the war:
https://media.wnyc.org/media/resources/2023/Oct/27/BNCH_ISRAEL_GAZA_EDITION_1.pdf
I. "Headlines are obscured by the fog of war"
Headline writers have a hard job under the best of circumstances – trying to snag your interest in a few words. Headlines can't encompass all the nuance of a story, and they are often written by editors, not the writers who produced the story. Between the imperatives for speed and brevity and the broken telephone between editors and writers, it's easy for headlines to go wrong, even when no one is attempting to mislead you. Even reliable outlets will screw up headlines sometimes – and that likelihood goes way up in times like these. You gotta read the story, not just the headline.
II. Know red flags for bullshit
The factually untrue information that spreads furthest tends to originate with a handful of superspreader accounts. Whether these people are Just Wrong or malicious disinfo peddlers, they share a few characteristics that should trip your BS meter and prompt extra scrutiny:
High-frequency posting
Emotionally charged framing
Posts that purport to be summaries or excerpts from news outlets, but do not include links to the original
The phrase "breaking news" (no one has that many scoops)
III. Don't trust screenshots
Screenshots of news stories, tweets, and other social media should come with links to the original. It's just too damned easy to fake a screenshot.
IV. "Know your platform"
It used to be that Twitter got a lot of first-person accounts from people in the thick of crises, while Facebook and Reddit contained commentary and reposts. Today, Twitter is just another aggregator. This time around, there's lots of first-person, real-time reporting coming off Telegram (it runs well on old phones and doesn't chew up batteries). Instagram is widely used in both Israel and the West Bank.
V. "Crisis actors" aren't a thing
People who attribute war images to "crisis actors" are either deluded or lying. There's plenty of ways to distort war news, but paying people to pretend to be grieving family members is essentially unheard of. Any explanation that involves crisis actors is a solid reason to permanently block that source.
VI. There's plenty of ways to verify stuff that smells fishy
TinEye, Yandex and Google Image Search are all good tools for checking "breaking" images and seeing if they're old copypasta ganked from earlier conflicts (or, you know, video-games). The fact that an image doesn't show up in one of these searches doesn't guarantee its authenticity, of course.
VII. Think before you post
Israel-Gaza is the most polluted media pool yet. Don't make it worse.
There's plenty more detail on this (especially on the use of verification tools) in Brooke Gladstone's radio segment:
https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/otm/episodes/on-the-media-breaking-news-consumers-handbook-israel-gaza-edition
The media environment sucks, and warrants skepticism and caution. But we also need to be skeptical of skepticism itself! As danah boyd started saying all the way back in 2018, weaponized media literacy leads to conspiratorialism:
https://www.zephoria.org/thoughts/archives/2018/03/09/you-think-you-want-media-literacy-do-you.html
Remember, the biggest peddlers of "fake news" are also the most prolific users of the term. For a lot of these information warriors, the point isn't to get you to believe them – they'll settle for you believing nothing. "Flood the zone with bullshit" is Steve Bannon's go-to tactic, and it's one that his acolytes have picked up and multiplied.
It's important to be a critical thinker, but there's plenty of people who've figured out how to weaponize a critical viewpoint and turn it into nihilism. Remember, the guy who wrote How To Lie With Statistics was a tobacco industry shill who made his living obfuscating the link between smoking and cancer. It's absolutely possible to lie with statistics, but it's also possible to use statistics to know the truth, as Tim Harford explains in his 2021 must-read book The Data Detective:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/04/how-to-truth/#harford
There's a world of difference between being misled and being brainwashed. A lot of today's worry about "disinformation" and "misinformation" has the whiff of a moral panic:
https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2023/10/are-we-having-a-moral-panic-over-misinformation.html
It's possible to have a nuanced view of this subject – to take steps to enure you're not being tricked without equating crude tricks like sticking a fake BBC chyron on a 10-year-old image with unstoppable mind-control:
https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/28/fog-o-war/#breaking-news
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nanivinsmoke · 30 days
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Picture Perfect
just want to apologize for not posting in a while, I was recovering from an illness .
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toji f. & shiu k. x f!reader
we all want to be stuffed by these two, right?
summary : your two hot older neighbors agree to stuff you on camera, a viral sensation.
warnings and tags : rough fucking, age gap (readers in her early twenties, the other two late thirties), blow jobs, multiple orgasms, spit play, smoking, porn (making it duh), some anal, nipple play, boob jobs, degradation, etc…
“hello everyone,” you spoke to your webcam, waving at your viewers that were currently tuned in with your livestream. you grabbed a claw clip that was on your desk, putting your hair up before continuing.
“today’s stream is going to be very interesting. remember those two neighbors i was telling you guys about? how i was fantasizing about them fucking me? well, today’s the day!” you said with a giggle, teasing yourself through you ruby red laced bra.
you had been a camstar for a year now and your page was doing really good. at first you were really nervous about showing your face and body to a bunch of random people, but when you got the hang of it; it became natural and unnerving. you only showed from your lips, downward and would blur out the rest of your face and any guests you would be having on the stream. you were making bank, this was a good source of extra income.
you grew really popular, starting off with just some solo play before collaborating with other cam stars, who you became really close with—to now, about to fuck your hot neighbors. they were all for it when you asked them a few days ago, as they have been wanting to fuck the shit out of you for the longest.
the two of them were tired of getting stiff boners watching you walk through the apartment complex, bending over to pick up packages or simply jogging around in your small little outfits; while they shared their daily cigarette. and just like they watched you, you watched them. toji, the one with those hypnotizing green eyes, lived right next door to you; and you could hear everything that went on in his place—and you knew what how good he was.
as for shiu, he lived across the hall from the both of you and would always be at his best friend toji’s house. you weren’t strangers, but after today you would be more than acquaintances.
“when are you gonna stop talking to that camera and come over here, so we could fuck that pretty little mouth of yours?” toji’s deep—panty wetting voice alerted you and your plump lips contorted into a smile. “mmm, can’t keep them waiting. enjoy the show~” you reached behind and unclasped your bra, showing off your plump breasts—before getting up from your plush seat.
sashaying over to your bed, where the two half–naked men awaited, you kicked off your heels and joined them on your king sized bed; pulling toji into a kiss while you reached over and palmed shiu through his briefs. the kiss immediately became hot and sloppy as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, dominating you with ease. freeing shiu from his underwear, you stroked him—his precum sticking to your hand as you moved.
he grunted as he watched you give him the best hand job he had ever received. your manicured hand was soft and your grip around his thick eight inches had him bucking his hips up; wanting more. breaking away from your kiss with toji, you used your one free hand to pull off your soaked panties, tossing it aside; before squatting down on toji’s clothed bulge.
“not wasting any time, are we? guess we really gotta fuck you good now” toji chuckled, grabbing you by your plush thighs and hoisting you onto his face; planting your wet cunt onto his scarred lips—which made you lose your grip on shiu’s cock. a loud moan left your tongue, as toji swirled his on your throbbing clit—sucking and slurping on the swollen bud; your eyes closing shut from the pleasure. but, you had completely forgotten about shiu. that is until you felt his fat tip being smacked onto your plump lips.
his precum became smeared on your lips as he rubbed himself on your mouth, before pushing his way inside of your warm—wet mouth. “shit..” he breathed out while you didn’t hesitate to slobber all over his girth, your moans vibrating against him while toji continued to pleasure you with his tongue.
you started off with using one hand to grip shiu’s cock while you frenched it, tongue swirling around his tip and underneath his cock—causing a low moan to leave his mouth. the way your mouth felt was so euphoric for him. the way your cheeks puffed up and suctioned as you took him, the way your sex filled eyes were brimming with tears and the way spit pooled out the corners of your mouth; had driven him to insanity.
your eyes widened even more when you felt shiu’s big hands grip the sides of your head and push you further onto his cock, making his tip hit the back of your mouth; stuffing you completely. he didn’t let you get used to his roughness, he slammed his hips into your chin; fucking your mouth to his liking.
“yeah, take it like a good little slut—fuck, no hands.” your hands fell to your sides while he proceeded to make a mess out of your mouth. he was so rough, it made your head spin. the more he pumped his fat dick inside, the more your desire increased and everything about his cock turned you on. the smell, the taste and the shape made you hornier; and your throat slowly relaxed—allowing him to push himself deeper inside.
your face was so fucked out and sloppy, coated with slobber as he continued to make your mouth his personal fuck toy. some might find this to be dirty, but he found it arousing—so arousing that he was going to cum real soon, and you knew it too. your clit was pulsating uncontrollably in toji’s mouth. your sweet juices flowing out and into his mouth while he happily lapped them up, dipping his tongue in and out of your hole; building up your orgasm as well.
you couldn’t help but moan and grind your hips on his face, adding some more stimulation to your clit. “shit, y/n—g’na cum in that pretty little mouth,” and a few seconds later he did. he painted the inside of your mouth white, the taste and the warmth only made you want to swallow it and hopefully milk him for more. you wanted to keep sucking, but he pulled out of you with a pop. finally able to breathe right, you gasped and let out a loud moan, as toji sucked on your clit hard; causing you to cum right on his mouth.
“oh f-fuck!~” toji gripped the fat of your ass while you grinded against him, cumming hard all over his face. licking every last bit of your cum, toji pulled you off of his face and pressed his lips onto yours—the mixture of your cum and shiu’s swirled around in your mouths—before the two of you separated, breathless.
shiu immediately grabbed you by your hips and placed you near the edge of the bed where he was standing at, pushing you into the doggystyle position. the sight of your ass was beyond sexy and he couldn’t help but dive his face in between your cheeks, his tongue and the hairs of his mustache tickled you, but it still felt so good. mewls spilled out of your mouth as shiu licked from your ass all the way down to your clit, sending you into a frenzy.
you never been pleased like this before and having your ass ate was such a new, thrilling experience and you craved more. you rocked your hips back onto his face, the fat of your ass smothering him which he loved. it was no doubt that shiu was an ass man.
while shiu pleased you from the back, toji decided to see how good your head game was. “how good is it?” toji asked his best friend, when he finally came up from air, alluding to your mouth. “way too damn good, toj. and fuck her mouth hard, she loves that.” hearing his best friend’s approval, the raven haired male pushed his fat—leaking tip into your mouth, groaning at the feeling.
his dick was so much fatter than shiu’s, your cheeks were spread past its normal size due to his thickness. he tasted so good too, you swirled your tongue and bobbed your head, sucking him like it was an ice pop on a hot sunny day. “too fucking good….shit, this bitch is g’na make me cum already,” toji grunted, pulling himself out of your mouth, so he wouldn’t cum too early before he could fuck your mouth like he wanted.
“told you,” shiu spoke before he stood up from his spot and grabbed his head, pushing it into your slick coated entrance. you couldn’t help but gasp as he stretched you out, which resulted in choking on toji’s cock. “dick too big mama, hm?—it’s alright, you can take it,” toji coached, one of his hands resting on your throat while he restarted to make a mess out of your mouth.
you were in pure bliss while the two men filled both sides of you. your cunt was drenched with your juices and your mouth ached in a way that you found pleasure in. these men were going to break you and you were loving every bit of it.
the pornographic sounds of shiu’s balls smacking your wet cunt, along with the slurping sounds you were making; filled the room the more the two men pounded both of your ends. your live stream was going crazy. it was dinging each time someone joined and subscribed; they were enjoying seeing you get dominated by two older men, and you were as well.
and that’s when you smelled the pungent smell of nicotine. you looked up at toji and saw a cigarette in his mouth, before he took a pull from it and reached over to hand it to shiu. the two of them were smoking while they ravaged you, and you couldn’t help but get turned on from it. “oh? did this just turn you on? seeing us smoke, while we fucked you?” shiu sent a smack to your ass, causing you to moan which vibrated around toji’s eight inches.
“you like that mama? here~” toji removed his cock from your mouth and blew some smoke in it, before a wad of his spit followed along with it. you swallowed it and moaned, sticking out your tongue for more; which made the male chuckle. “so fucking nasty,” he let out another drop into your mouth and shoved his cock right back in, his tip hitting the back of your mouth repeatedly.
shiu could feel how much your walls were clenching around him crazily and knew you were close, “cum for daddy baby, let daddy see how much this pretty pussy cums.” and it didn’t take much for you to let go afterwards. a few more hard strokes with his tip hitting your spot, you creamed around his dick—eyes rolling back in your head as you did. “shit—look so damn sexy when you cum….g’na cum too~” toji breathed out before he emptied his balls into your mouth, with you swallowing his load immediately after.
a trail of spit mixed with his cum followed once he pulled out and you let out a series of moans when you felt shiu’s cock repeatedly slam into your cunt—still sensitive from cumming. a warm filling sensation followed shortly, making your womb feel full with his cum before he pulled out as well.
you laid there breathless, stuffed with cum and a sore aching mouth; until you were flipped over onto your back—being met with toji’s green eyes once more. “my turn~,” he said with a smirk plastered onto his face, before he aligned his tip with your entrance and pushed himself in.
you couldn’t believe it. you were about to have your third orgasm for the night and you were completely fucked out and cock drunk. your cunt gushed as toji pounded into you, his cock stretching you and hitting your g-spot with each stroke. your hair was sweated out and all over the place, but you didn’t care—it was just another sign you were being fucked good.
shiu on the hand was playing with your tits. showing your hard sensitive buds some attention, leaning down to lick on them; while his cock brushed onto one of them. the stimulation sent jolts of electricity to your clit and you loved the feeling from it. “again…mmm do it some again”
“where’s your manners, princess?” toji asked, spanking your clit; earning a whimper from you. “please….do it—….again, daddy~.” you locked eyes with shiu and he smirked, before he rubbed his cock against your nipples some more. “good girl”
you were overstimulated to say the least and you could feel your orgasm coming, the two of them were close behind as well. “think she can squirt?” toji asked his best friend, keeping his finger in your clit while he pounded you. shiu looked at your fucked out face and smirked, “definitely.” and he didn’t waste no time in trying to get you to squirt. he thumb swirled on your clit, while his strokes became harder; your orgasm coming at you hard.
“im cumming—im cumming!” you repeated, eyes rolling back into your head as you did and just like shiu said, a stream of clear liquid left your cunt—drenching toji and the sheets beneath you.
“fuck, that was hot. g’na cum too” shiu began stroking his cock, keeping his left hand on one of your breasts—before he painted them with a thick coat of white. and soon, toji was right behind the both of you. after a few more sloppy, hard strokes, your womb was filled once again—tummy full with both of their seeds.
you laid there dazed and out of breath, while shiu stroked your hair and lit up another cigarette. toji sat on the bed and began to massage your sensitive legs, so they wouldn’t be too sore the next day.
“good job mama. maybe next time we could do this again”
and you would definitely take him up on his offer, fucking them on and off camera again.
479 notes · View notes
bethelighthalazia · 2 months
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Don´t move, little dove
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Summary:  Seonghwa has some fun with his pet during a livestream and is soon after joined by Hongjoong.
Genre: SMUT
Pairing: dom!matz x fem!sub!reader
Word Count:  1285
Warnings: mean!dom!Hongjoong, dom!seonghwa, cockwarming, rough play, oral
networks: @newworldnet
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© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.
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“I told you not to move, little dove.” Seonghwa sighs, shaking his head ever so slightly when you move your head back. You had to, the breathing got a little too difficult around his throbbing length down your throat. His gentle hand resting on your head, slender fingers brushing through your hair, but his gaze stays on the camera that's pointed at him. You can't do much more than nod your head obediently, eyes trained on his face, waiting for a change in his expression, but he's just focused on the livestream he just muted. 
“If you can't stay still and be good, I´ll have you punished. And you know how eager Joong is when it comes to that, right?” His hand wandered to your cheek, then down to your lips, wiping the little trail of saliva running from the corner of your mouth. You´ve been punished by the captain a few times already, and you knew all too well that you did not want it to happen again too soon. The slight bruises on your thighs have not fully healed yet after the last time two days before. 
And yet, you needed to move. the pleasure building in your core applied by the vibrator that he had positioned against your folds. You could feel the slick running down your thighs, but you just didn't dare to move at all. Yet, all your strength and determination was lost, when he turned his attention back to the livestream. His fingers again brushing through your hair, Seonghwa felt the need to remind you of your place, pushing your head down his whole length once again, but this time it drew a gurgled moan from you, an orgasm rippling through your body. The simple “Tsk” that escaped him when he said goodbye to his fans and explained that you didn't feel the best and he had to take care of you already let you know that you were in trouble. 
The moment he turned off the stream, his eyes went down to your face, pulling you off his cock with a harsh yank of your hair. This let you breathe, but you also couldn't hold back the almost animalistic moan that came right from your core. “You shouldn't have done this, little dove~” He chuckled, his voice dangerously low and the smirk that grew on his face tells you that your thighs probably won't stay the only of your body parts with bruises after the night. Seonghwa´s expression doesn´t change as he calmly reaches for his phone, dials Hongjoong´s number and then puts it on speaker for you. 
“Seonghwa, if you-” “Hello to you too, Joong. I just thought our little dove would like to tell you some good news herself.” you could hear a chuckle from the other end of the call, causing you to give Seonghwa a fearful, yet aroused look. “Hnn~ H-hello Joo-” A displeased sigh of Seonghwa stops you mid sentence, shaking his head slowly. “I- I mean…hello, sir.” These words alone cause Hongjoong to chuckle once again, knowing too well what will come next and Seonghwa doesn´t need to say anything. “I'll be over in a moment.”
The click of the phone brings a shiver down your spine. You don't move though, your hands still resting on Seonghwa´s thighs, your knees now feeling sore. One gaze up at his face, you know too well what will await you, the dangerous glint in Seonghwa´s eye when he looks at the door which opens and reveals Hongjoong who steps inside, locking the door behind himself before approaching you.
“Well, look at this mess between your legs, Seonghwa. She still hasn't learned, huh?” The captain snarls, reaching for your head to brush his fingers through your hair, gently and lovingly, before he just pushes your head down, your face pressed against the older one´s hard length. In the corner of your eye, you could see movement, Hongjoong crouching down next to the chair, a sadistic grin on his face.
“Now, use your fucking words to tell me what you did to upset him. And you better not cum as long as I am in this room.” He hissed, letting go of your head and then moving to stand behind Seonghwa, his hands on the older one´s shoulders to massage him, even lowering his head to press a loving kiss to Seonghwa´s lips. The difference in your dynamic always has been like this, at least, it always is like this in these kind of scenarios. and you knew damn well how serious Hongjoong takes your punishments. 
“I- I am sorry, sir. Hnn~ I m- moved and made…made noises while S- Seonghwa was doing a livestream. B-but i didn´t mean to-” You whimper against seonghwa´s crotch, not daring to lift your head to look at him. “You´re stuttering, birdie.” Hongjoong´s voice is calm, yet you could hear the smirk in it. “I'll tell you what you´ll do now. You´ll make it up to Seonghwa, use your mouth and don't dare to make a sound.” You just nodded, quickly opened your mouth again to wrap your lips around Seonghwa´s length, his slender fingers running through your hair once again to push you down. You felt his tip push against the back of your throat, tears appearing in your eyes. But, you did not make any sound.
Hongjoong and Seonghwa just talk while you keep using your lips and tongue to please the older one. They talk about the music, about their day and about you. The three of you were a weird couple, Seonghwa and Hongjoong were in a relationship, but when they met you, they just knew that they wanted you. Not only for the sex, but they wanted you in their lives, and you did want it too, because you love each other. On days like this though, you were nothing more than a pet to them. A pet to play with, to get some relief after a stressful day or week. The others knew about it, but they didn't complain as long as the three of you would keep it quiet.
You could feel Seonghwa´s length twitch and throb against your tongue, the vibrator against your clit suddenly turned higher, which sends another orgasm through your body, but you force yourself to stay quiet. Praising words from Hongjoong reach your ears, your eyes fluttering shut when you feel Seonghwa release into your throat, white coating your tongue as he pulls your head back by your hair. “Hmm~ you always feel so good, little dove.” Seonghwa moans out, his breath going faster as his head drops back against Hongjoong’s arm. 
“You did well, birdie.” Hongjoong hums, his voice now soft as he reaches down to caress your cheek gently. This contrast to his harsher self only moments before causes you to whimper, swallowing hard before you show him your empty mouth. When suddenly the vibrator is turned to max, you can't suppress a squealed moan, sending a heavy orgasm through your system which lets you drop into Seonghwa ́s lap, your breath going fast and your whole body twitching and shaky. A pleased smile on their faces, Hongjoong and Seonghwa caress your head before the younger one crouches down, takes away the toy and then picks you up in his arms to carry you to the bathroom, where a hot bath awaits you. 
Seonghwa followed the both of you, settling into the tub before Hongjoong then let you down into the hot water, resting in Seonghwa´s arms, your head against his shoulder. “We love you so much, little dove.” Seonghwa hums, brushing some hair out of your face to see your face, a smile on your lips.
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taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson, @hotteokkay, @minkilicious, @bunnliix
(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)
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656 notes · View notes
tieronecrush · 3 months
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BNBG (brand new baby girl)
frankie morales x curvy OF/cam girl f!reader
summary: frankie has been needing distractions from a hurdle in his sobriety, so he ventures to his frequented subscription service platform to take his mind off things. he sees the title of your page, intrigued immediately, and dives deep into your content. catching your attention on a livestream with his confident commands, frankie becomes infatuated with you and an avid viewer before he decides to DM you one day...and then ends up with a brand new baby girl.
wc: 11k
rating: E (very)
warnings: daddy kink!! **cover does not depict anything about the reader, simply vibes of softness**, vague descriptions of reader's body (plush, thick, curves, soft, etc. no definite descriptors used otherwise. picture her as you want but she is mid to plus size in my head 🫶), no age specified (only that reader started out of college, no specifications of when she went to school), discussions of addiction & drug use, childless frankie au, sex work, sex livestream, consumption of porn, unestablished relationship, online relationship, pet names (conejita, baby, babygirl, pequeña, bunny, etc.), gratuitous descriptions of frankie's dick, SMUT, male masturbation, female masterbation, sex toys, both frankie & reader have thoughts about the other (unprotected piv, fingering, oral, etc.), major dirty talk, d/s dynamics, some fluff sprinkled in <3, this might be lowkey problematic that frankie uses porn to cope (esp reader's porn) buuuuut hopefully it's hot
a/n: cover design & dividers by me 💋 this is an unhinged daydream of mine, hope y'all enjoy! huge thank you to my besties @kiwisbell and @northernbluess for beta-reading 💓
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The time on Frankie’s phone screen turns over to well past midnight. Bedroom pitched black save for the blue light illuminating his face as he scrolls on Instagram, unable to fall asleep from thoughts stirring. He wants to scratch the itch — to pick at the scab that’s been growing in his brain for over a year. Temptation runs hot in his veins. A craving, deep in his gut. A strong inhale or the rub of his fingertip against his gums. It would be fast.  And it would only last less than half an hour — he could manage it one more time, he was sober enough for that, wasn’t he? He indulges himself in other aspects now: drinking, food, lax with his once regimented workout routine.
Frankie can hear the voice of his sponsor, the one he listens to speak at his weekly meetings in the musty church hall. Sure, his sponsor’s got valuable advice for him, having been sober for decades now, but he can’t relate to Frankie. Not really. He doesn’t know the level of temptation he’s consistently faced with, doesn’t know the fucked up shit he’s seen that got him into the substance in the first place.
His sponsor tells him to get into meditation. That it helps him turn his brain off when he has a craving, redirecting the energy into himself and crushing the aching want for it. Or some spiritual bullshit that Frankie doesn’t understand.
And besides, he’s found his own means of meditation.
Exiting the social media app, he opens his browser and types in the website. The light of the phone illuminates his face enough for his saved login to work, bringing him into his plane of piety. Where he escapes at least three times a week, late nights like now and the occasional mid-afternoon or morning on his desperate days off. When the urge is too strong. When he’s formulating a plan of how to get his hands on a tiny baggie, he loses himself — distracts his brain here.
Scrolling through his usual subscriptions, nothing seems to be hitting the spot. One hand grips his phone, thumb gliding along the screen, while the other cups his hard-on through his boxers, palming himself as he searches for something to get off to.
That’s when he sees it — the perfect combination of words that draws him in by the title. Clicking the page, he’s quick to pledge his monthly amount, eager to get access to all that lies beyond the paywall. And what he’s greeted with, pulls a sigh from his lips in the quiet room, his large hand squeezing his cock through the thin fabric elasticated around his waist. 
“Fuck…” he mumbles to himself when he sees that there’s a live stream happening. A cosmic intervention for him, he thinks, a sign that he’s meant to satiate his vices with this.
With you.
The screen changes to a vertical view of you in front of the camera, iPhone seemingly propped up against something while you sit on your mattress. It’s so…delicate and soft. Those are the words he can think of to describe the backdrop that he takes in quickly. Billowing white comforter on your bed, pillows surrounding you. The first thought he has is that it looks like a bed he could easily sleep in — much more inviting than his. There are touches of blush pink, sky blue, and more. A complete rainbow of desaturated colors.
It all compliments you. Centered in the frame, the next sound you make drags his eyes back to your form as you move around. Another squeeze to his cock draws a longer sigh from his lips as he combs across the view of your body, scantily clad in a thong and a bra covered in cherries. The cups of the bra push up the weight of your breasts, spilling over the edge. His tongue runs across his lips to wet them, a new craving ravaging his mouth as he wonders what you would taste like with the skin of your tits dampened by his saliva.
The rest of your body is as softly lined and curving as your chest, waist swooping into your hips as you sit on your knees in front of the camera. Thick thighs spread with the press of your calves into the back of them, the inside of them meeting at the apex and providing cover for what he so badly wants to be shown. There’s a line of your stomach above the waist of your panties, supple skin glistening. Delicious, is all he can think to himself. You look so fucking delicious that it floods his mouth with saliva, enough that he feels the overwhelming need to push his boxers down, freeing his hard cock to rest against his stomach until he’s spitting into his palm and starting a slow, languid pace.
The grain of his palm drags against the length of his cock as he keeps a steady flick of his wrist. Not too fast, but not achingly slow. Enough to start stoking the burning coals in the pit of his stomach as he watches you on the small rectangular screen. Puffs of hot air leave his mouth, his jaw hanging open while he watches you shift to reach for something out of frame, the first look at your ass gifted to him. Rounded swell of curves with the fabric of your thong dipping between them. The slight jiggle of your cheeks makes Frankie moan quietly, taking the briefest moment to picture that same ripple in your skin from him fucking you from behind.
“Shit…” he grumbles under his breath, minorly increasing the pressure of his grip to squeeze his cock as his hand moves, desperate to mimic the feeling of someone — apparently you, despite not knowing anything close to your name.
Skin on skin catches on the base of his dick and he exhales sharply with his teeth bared, opening his palm to spit once again. It’s not enough, but he continues the slide of his wrist as he sets his phone down on the mattress briefly, reaching over to his nightstand, pausing once again to dispense a pump of lotion into the palm of his right hand. Wrapping the moistened hand around his cock again, he starts a faster pace before slowing down to drag out his pleasure longer.
Returning into the frame fully, he sees your face for the first time and coughs as his open-mouthed inhale seizes in his throat. His fingers circle the base of his cock, squeezing hard as he takes in your face. Perfectly primped with a layer of makeup, but he can tell you’ve got the kind of beauty that wouldn’t ever need changing or enhancing — effortless. Velvety skin, as silky as the rest of your body but with an added glow. Bright eyes that are shining with mischief and want, and a smirk that’s as playful; he finds himself shutting his eyes again, for a few lazy strokes as he pictures that face, and your plush, pliable body, on your knees in front of him. Eagerly awaiting his cock to fill your mouth.
Fuck, you’re really doing a number on him tonight. He needed this. His desperation for a high of any kind coats his open mouth with each labored breath.
Focused back on his phone, you show off the treasure that you dug for off-camera. A lilac vibrator, one that fits the length of your hand, with a swell of size rounded off at the tip and tapered in at the end. Leaning closer to your camera, Frankie groans when your tits bounce, spilling out of your bra with a tiny nip slip that he catches immediately. And it only makes him want to see more.
“Mm, c’mon, pretty girl, show me something here. M’fuckin’ dying…Necesito la distracción (I need the distraction),” Frankie speaks toward the screen, feeling pathetic as he barters with you in the one-way system.
As if you heard his pleas, you adjust your position, laying back on the mountain of pillows to prop yourself up and letting one leg fall open. Even in the lowered lighting of the room you’re in, presumably your bedroom, he can make out the wet patch covering your folds. He finds himself wondering if the act of getting off in front of a camera, in front of people watching live, is what gets you wet. Or if you have a fluffer like he’s heard they do in porn.
He’d wanna be your fluffer.
Or maybe he’d want to be the one to fuck you in the porno. At least both of you’d get to finish then.
“Think I need someone who knows better than me to tell me what they wanna see.” Your voice is saccharine, the slight fry in your voice jolts his hips into his hand, mumbles of curses slipping from his lips. “Anybody have any suggestions for me, chat?”
A low hum starts when you press the button of the vibrator in your hand, spreading your knees further to open your core to the view of the camera completely. Your opposite hand to the toy hooks into the crotch of your thong, pulling the small bit of fabric, practically a string with the amount it’s covering.
Frankie’s mouth waters as the speed of his hand picks up, the grip of his fingers not nearly as satisfying as the clench of a pussy, but he’ll make do. He has been for a year; you know what they say, no relationships for the first year sober. That, and he couldn’t find anyone that could take his mind off of coke long enough for him to get it up. So eventually he just let it be.
Now, though, he’s painfully hard. The quick movements of his hand send a shock of pleasure up to his brain, veins contracting with the extra effort to keep the blood supply to his cock. Thumb brushes over his tip, mixing in his precum with the other lubrication, a hiss from behind his teeth shot out from the stimulation. His gaze is glued onto his rectangular screen, huffing out deep breaths while you press the vibrator against your clit. There’s a quiver in your thighs that he notices, as if this is your first touch after teasing yourself, or someone else teasing you. Sensitive already.
Biting your lip, your eyes scan the screen as you read aloud, “FiveFingersAtFreddys said ‘Take your bra off please.’ Well, actually he said ‘Take your tits out’ but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, dude, and say that you actually do have good manners.”
He laughs, and it’s a first for him. Laughing at someone’s jokes as he jerks off, alone.
You comply with the request, taking the vibrator away from your clit to reach around and unclasp your bra. Tossing the material aside, you lean back into the pillows again and the next sight nearly makes Frankie come right then and there until he takes his hand away completely. Laid out, legs open and fingers pulling your panties aside, vibrator pushing into your clit and driving a high-pitched moan from your lips. All while you're bare from the waist up, cushioned torso melting into your heavy tits, pert nipples bringing them to a point. The form of a Greek classics statue, one with fleshy outlines carved impeccably from marble.
“La obra maestra (A masterpiece)…” Frankie whispers to himself, the squelch of his lotioned hand working his hard length bringing him back into his body, a moan slipping from his mouth.
“I think I need someone else to tell me how I should play with myself. M’so wet, jus’ wanna touch myself but I don’t know where to start. All seems like—like it’s going to feel so good,” you stutter out when your hips buck against the vibrator, a whimper echoing from your chest as you turn your attention to the chat again, awaiting intriguing instructions.
Maybe it’s sexual frustration, maybe it’s pathetic. Maybe it’s the intense fucking craving to replace his need for coke high with a need for an orgasm, but for whatever reason chosen, Frankie finds himself clicking on the comment box with his thumb, typing wildly with one finger. He takes a second to read it for spelling errors before he presses send. Too lost in it all now to care.
Your eyes perk up, smirk growing on your face when you read the influx of chat replies. One must have caught your eye because the vibrator is being left to the side again. Fingers hook into the waist of your panties, slowly pulling them off as you read aloud the comment that caught your attention.
“There’s a new name I see here…Maybe we should do what you want, Mr. FlyingFish. Consider it a welcome gift from me to you.” His heart is pounding in his chest, hand gripping tighter and twisting around his dick as he fucks his fist, mumbles of curses spilling out as he listens to you repeat what he desperately typed not a minute prior. It sounds dirtier coming from you, despite his best efforts at politeness, “You said ‘Please show off how many of your little fingers fit into your pretty pussy. Think a pretty girl like you deserves to fuck her fingers…’ Alright, FlyingFish, you’ve got me blushin’ from that request and that is difficult to do, sir. Thank you for calling me a pretty girl. I promise I’m smart, too. I’ll be sure to count ‘em for you.”
One finger slips into your dripping entrance easily, the other hand reaching for the vibrator and replacing it at your clit while your finger starts to fuck shallowly, “One finger…”
Whines of frustration crack over his small speakers before a bigger moan falls from your lips, a second finger slid into you alongside the first, “Oh, fuck…That’s two. Mm, how am I doin’? FlyingFish, d’you think I can get another?”
Frankie’s wrist flicks rapidly now, the direct address to him driving him mad as the sounds of his arm slapping against his stomach and thigh clap in his room and cut into the sounds your pussy is making as you get yourself off. He types as quickly as he can, strings of curses flowing from his mouth as the heat of his desire burns red hot inside of him. He’s so fucking close but he wants to watch you fall apart at the same time. Wants to be the reason you come.
“Oh, shit—you’ve got a mouth, FlyingFish. ‘I’d hope you can take another, otherwise, you couldn’t take my cock.’ Is that a promise, Fish? You saying you got a big dick for me to take?��� 
You whimper and he’s edging himself, squeezing hard to stay together when you inadvertently use his call sign. The closest thing you have to his name, and all he can think about is you screaming it while he’s fucking you. He wants to tell you it’s a promise only if you follow through, indulging in the fantasy of actually getting to touch you only for a moment. But instead, his attention is completely drawn to a third finger stretching your cunt in full view of the camera, your wanton moans popping in his speakers and driving his forearm to burn with the strain of muscle as he attempts to fist his cock even harder.
“Fuckfuckfuck…Come for me, baby, please fucking come on those fingers,” he begs no one but himself, a blinding white heat licking the entire inside of his body as he balances on the edge. Waiting for you to fall first.
“Oh my god, fuck…” The last word is drawn out, pitching up at the end as your fingers fuck faster, squelching sounds of your wetness flooding his mouth as his brain pleads for a taste of your cunt. “I don’t think—I don’t think I can get a fourth. M’gonna fucking come—ah! Oh, fuck me, Fish…”
You barely whisper his name, or at least what is his name to you, but it’s singlehandedly what punches out his guttural moan, ropes of warm, sticking spend coating his hand as he keeps moving and spilling onto his stomach. It’s prolonged, the tension in his calves relaxing after he spills the most come he has in a while.
Airy, light, a rush of blood back to his head has his whole body tingling with a high. Satiating his cravings from earlier, dissolving the want, the need, for anything of the sort. Instead, it’s replaced with thoughts of you — the image of you laying fucked out on his phone, adding his own touch of imagination when he closes his eyes to see you as you are but covered with his come the same way he is. Normally, this is when the smallest bit of shame crawls up his spine and sits at the nape of his neck, but instead, he melts into warmth. Faced with your smile as you sit up and lean over toward the camera again, laughing to yourself as you end the live.
“Um, if you’re still here, thanks for that FlyingFish. Felt fucking good…And to everyone else, I’ll stream again on Monday night, same time as always. Night, everyone. Have a good weekend.” All he hears before the sound cuts out is your excited giggles, the brightness of your post-orgasm joy stretching a smile across your face. He’s faced with a black screen, staring back at himself in the reflection with the shit-eating, smug grin he has on his face.
Now he’s got plans for Monday night.
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Frankie hasn’t been able to get you out of his head. He’s hooked. Images of your sloping curves flash behind his eyes on the days when you’re not available to watch, his hips fucking his fist in bed, the shower, even on his couch with the blinds all open because he was that needy. Thoughts of you replaced his thoughts of the white powder, chasing after the different high he’s gifted by your voice, your body — all through a screen.
He’s caught himself rasping affections as he pictures you, hissed compliments as he comes and imagining what he’d say if you were in front of him. Letting him use your mouth or your cunt. He’s even gotten into a habit of imagining his head between your legs; the hardest he came is the one time he pictured you sitting on his face and all of the pretty sounds you’d make for him. Fuck, cariño, that’s so good. Mm, bonita, you’re such a good girl. Love doin’ what you’re told, don’t you, baby?
The fact that he doesn’t even know your name but is this infatuated isn’t lost on him. He knows he has an addictive personality, but this feels different. Like he was meant to find you for some reason. His sponsor would tell him it’s a call from the universe that this is all part of his ‘journey to sobriety’, but really, he just thinks that you’re fucking hot. And the tiniest part of him thinks you might like him watching too, even though you have no idea who he is.
Each time he watches you live, his thumb taps across the keyboard, responding to your requests and even adding in some encouragement. Virtually having conversations with you, he quickly became a frequent flyer (your joke, not his). You listen to him. Like the sweet girl that you are. Taking his suggestions — his demands when you beg — and showing off for him, a whimpering mess when he’s done with you.
At times, it feels like he’s the only one watching, or at least the only one that matters to you. With the amount of times his username falls from your lips, it’s easy to fall into a bubble of you and him. You’ve picked up the habit of referring to him as ‘Fish’ and it’s driven him mad, the closest thing to his name that he’ll hear you say. You give him material to think back about for days after. I love a man that knows what he wants, Fish. You can boss me around, Fishie. I always know what you tell me to do is gonna feel so fucking good.
All of this over the last few weeks has built up his courage, which is why he finds himself sitting on his couch with your profile open, the sun barely set outside. A random baseball game plays on his TV, but his focus is completely on his phone, writing and deleting a DM to you about ten times.
It has to be right. Friendly, but not stalker-ish. Flirty, but not creepy. Commanding enough to get your attention among what he imagines are countless messages in your inbox.
After another good ten minutes drafting a message, his thumb hovers over the ‘Send’ button for a few seconds. Squeezing his eyes closed, he lowers his finger and hits the button, anxiety washing over him as he opens his eyes to stare at the blue bubble.
No going back now.
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Standing at the stove, water boils over the side of the pot while you pour in the uncooked pasta noodles. A few drops hit your skin, mumbles of curses leaving your lips, “Fucking shit!”
You stir the pasta before reaching for the nearest kitchen towel to wipe the once-scalding water off of your hand. A deep sigh exhales, relaxing your shoulders as the ding of a notification draws your attention to your phone lying on the marble countertop next to you.
What you find on your lock screen sends a shock of excitement down your spine, the warmth of anticipation radiating around your body to tingle your fingers and toes.
[Direct Message:] FlyingFish
Quick to swipe up, the device unlocks with a scan of your face and opens a new notification when you click on it with your thumb. Subconsciously, your opposite thumb has ended up between your teeth, biting down on the skin as you hold back an eager grin while you wait for his message to load.
You’ve never had this reaction to a message before, actually, it was usually the opposite. Rolling your eyes, ignoring the men until the last moment. Only responding to keep them enticed and subscribed — all of which keeps more money in your pocket. That’s really why you started this whole thing anyway.
FlyingFish:
Hey
A puff of air exhales through your nose, a chuckle cutting the otherwise silent kitchen. Shaking your head to yourself, you can’t help but smile at your screen. Heartbeat fluttering, you internally kick yourself for having such a reaction to such a simple message. Not even knowing who this person is, you find yourself typing back a response.
Hey there Fish
Guess I never actually asked if I could call you that
You turn back to your task at hand, continuing to cook your dinner and attempting to put out of your mind all of your assumptions about this person messaging you. You’d guess it’s a guy, an educated inference based on the demographics of your audience, but everything else is a complete mystery. The one time he insinuated he had a big dick stuck in your mind, and based on his behavior, you’d like to assume he isn’t lying. An image of a man sticks out to you each time you whimper his nickname, on camera and that handful of times off camera and alone: tall, solid, and strong. Brunette, only because that’s your type. Rough hands and commanding touches. Someone to bend your stubborn will into submission. He’s confident, at least through the chat, and he seems to know what he’s talking about. Each time you see his username pop up, you can feel yourself start to get wetter. Since you started this whole gig, there hasn’t been anyone quite like him. It’s always people asking for more for them — Show us your tits. Say my name. Turn around so we can see your ass.
But with him, it’s the opposite. He asks for more for you, which you guess is what he gets off to, not that you mind. Bet one more finger would feel even better for you, baby. Curl your fingers, cariño. You reaching that special spot? Gotta get deeper for me, baby. Rub slower, drag it out. Promise it’ll be even sweeter at the end. 
Always polite but stern in his demands. Never too much, mostly not enough for your taste. He’s built up an appetite in you that you haven’t had before, a desire to please and to be good for him. All of it doesn’t feel like performing when he’s telling you what to do, it feels like he’s there, deep rasp in your ears as you picture thick fingers in place of yours and tight grips on your plush curves. Fingerprint-shaped bruises left behind and sore muscles in your thighs from holding yourself up as he asks you to come for him over and over and over.
A vibration against the hard surface of the countertop refocuses your gaze from a thousand yards away. Turning to grab your cell, you rub your thighs together in hopes of relenting the ache between them from your daydreams. Wet panties get caught in your folds, discomfort only momentary before you lean over the counter and open your legs, reading the mystery man’s response.
You can call me anything you want bonita
But I will tell you that Fish is pretty close to my name
Fish is close to your name?
What is it? Bass? Salmon? Trout?
Funny
Fish is short for Catfish which was my call sign with my Special Ops team
Ahhh a military man. You know I like a man in uniform
Oh really? :)
Don’t wear it anymore but does it still count if I was once a man in uniform?
Hmm
:( please?
I wanna be liked by you
Showing your cards there Fishie
Not trying to play it cool?
Once you get to know me baby you’ll come to find out that me and cool don’t really go together.
I doubt that’s true
So Catfish is your call sign? Who came up with that?
My buddies on my team
Said I couldn’t grow a beard for shit and that it looked like I had whiskers
So Catfish
Well I don’t wanna call you Fish if it’s mean like that :(
What’s your real name? If you wanna tell me
Are you gonna sell my identity and let someone tank my credit score?
Never
It wouldn’t benefit me much if your card gets declined every month
I appreciate the honesty baby haha
My name’s Frankie
I like your name Frankie :)
It’s nearly an hour of messaging back and forth, flirting intermingled with genuine curiosity about the other’s life, history and background. Frankie learns that you were struggling to find a job straight out of university and needed to make rent, so you figured it couldn’t hurt to try out selling content. You detailed briefly the time that you grew your following, telling him about your Instagram too, which he follows in that instant. The notification makes you laugh and you follow him back despite the profile being completely empty of any information besides his name. Not even a profile picture. He learns that you don’t speak much to your parents anymore, that your siblings live across the country so you don’t get to see them much.
He tells you about his family — no siblings, parents that live in another part of the state and refuse to visit him in the city — and his chosen family, the Special Ops guys. Laughter hiccups from your chest when he recalls a few of the better stories from them, telling you about each other them as if he was preparing you to actually meet them. He has that thought, briefly, about all of you out for drinks. How they would probably like you as much as he does; your charm and sincerity would hook them all just as it has for him. Frankie tells you all about his current hobby, fixing up an old, cherry red 1978 Jeep Cherokee. How the only other time he spends online is searching for car parts, watching Youtube as he works on the vehicle in his garage.
You make a cheeky comment that he must be good with his hands before sending another message immediately:
Would you wanna actually talk? Like on Facetime maybe
Frankie stares at the message, blinking slowly as if it will disappear. You’re asking to talk to him? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? I mean, if he knew that was an option he would have asked himself…
He wouldn’t and he knows he wouldn’t based on the way his stomach has dropped to his feet, his hands have gone clammy and his throat tightened. Swallowing hard, he whispers a small pep talk to himself to work up the nerve to say yes. He wants to see you, he always wants to see more of you, but the fact that you’d see him as well…he can’t cope.
Heat trickles across the back of his neck and up his cheeks, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as his brain completely wipes any thought to respond. Dropping his phone into his lap, both of his hands reach up, one grabbing the brim of his cap and lifting it from his head while the other runs through his hair to push it back away from his face. In the corner of his eye, he catches his left knee bouncing. Lips press together in a thin line, rolling the flesh between his teeth before he picks up his phone again and sends a message back to you with just his phone number.
Not even a minute later, his screen lights up with a list of digits strung together in an unfamiliar order. As if it were possible, he felt his stomach drop lower than his feet, deep into the ground below and burrowing away along with his confidence.
Shit, this was a stupid idea. He’s going to make a fool of himself and you’ll lose interest and he’ll have to think about you every day for the rest of his life and wonder what you’re doing, how you’re doing, even what your name is—
Fuck, he’s gonna miss the call.
Frankie decides that it is much more embarrassing to miss the call he just sent his phone number for than to potentially come off as uncool, so his finger swipes to the right to answer. Quickly, he turns off his camera before you notice, opting for the level of anonymity to remain.
“Hi, Frankie…” Your candied voice drips with sweetness around his name. He’s been imagining you saying it, trying to get it right in his mind over the past few weeks, but hearing it now he relishes in the fact that none of them were right. None of them sounded like spun sugar, like it did just now.
You fill the frame from your shoulders up, the same bright smile on your face that he’s seen at the end of each live, after he’s had his fun with you, but looking completely different out of that context. It’s a bit shy, demure in the way you're resting in your bed against your pillows, t-shirt on and fresh-faced. You look beautiful. And it makes him feel a bit silly that you can’t see his reaction.
“Hey, bonita. M’sorry I don’t have my camera on, jus’ nervous. Didn’t want you to hang up right away gettin’ a look at this mug,” he says with self-deprecating laughter at the end, watching as your brows knit together with a pout on your lips.
“You don’t have to apologize, Frankie. M’happy to do whatever you’re comfortable with. Besides, if your voice gives me any indication of your looks, you’d probably be making me way more nervous.” Teeth bite into your bottom lip as you hold in a grin, a hand coming into view to nudge at your nose. He’s seen you do it a few times on live, whenever you’re waiting in anticipation. For him, he’d like to think.
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” he teases, the smirk playing at his face evident in his flirty tone.
“You jus’ sound…nice.”
“Nice? That’s all? Why would that make you nervous, baby?”
A sigh slips from your lips, rolling your head back as he hears the smallest whine from you. His cock jumps in his sweats, already half hard from the flirty back and forth in your messages.
“God, you’re going to be a problem with all those pet names,” you say exasperated. Frankie laughs at his screen, feeling like an idiot sitting here alone and smiling like a fool. You’re cute when you’re mad.
“You can tell me your name and I can use that instead?” he propositions, licking his lips as he awaits the piece of information he’s been chomping at the bit to have.
“No! I mean, I’ll tell you my name, but…I like the nicknames. Keep them. Please.” Your words scramble out and it makes him grin wider, witnessing you as nervous as he’s feeling. When you give him your name, he repeats it a few times, rolling it around in his mouth, tasting the syllables on his tongue. Delicate, floral, sweet but a slight tang. Smooth as it rolls across his vocal cords, soothing the rising heat he’s feeling with a refreshing chill. Like peaches and cream.
The two of you chat back and forth for a while, pride swelling in his chest when you laugh at his stupid jokes or give him a compliment, despite being none-the-wiser to his looks. He’s quick to make you blush with his comments, telling you how beautiful he thinks you are. And Frankie’s thanking himself for keeping his camera off, because at times during the call, his eyes drift to your chest, blatantly staring at your perked up nipples through the thin fabric of your t-shirt. It grows his hard on, the softness of your breasts bouncing around as you restlessly squirm during the call enticing him to picture getting his mouth on them. He’d guess you’d taste the same as your name.
The next time you move, he watches your chest again before a sight in the background catches his eye, drawing a chuckle from his mouth. A stuffed bunny lays next to you in your bed, messy with age and love. A soft pink color with a red ribbon tied around its neck, he finds the need to ask about it prodding in his mind.
“Is that who films everything for you?” he jokes, watching your face twist with confusion before looking to your side and bursting out in a laugh. Returning your eyes to the camera, you shake your head timidly.
“No, unfortunately he’s pretty limited to cuddling.”
“He? Didn’t know you had a man in your life, baby. Feels like we shouldn’t be talking like this in front of him.” The sound of your laughter quickens his pulse, the melody trilling in his ears with comfort.
“Well, I guess if you could offer me more than cuddling, he could be demoted.”
“I think I can offer more, Conejita.” Frankie watches as something akin to excitement, but burning brighter, flashes in your eyes. You sit up more, one eyebrow raising in challenge.
“What could you offer me, Frankie?” It’s a loaded question. He could be polite, steer the conversation away from where he so desperately wants it to go, to be a gentleman. It would be easy to make a joke, to get you both to move on.
But he always wants to see where this could go. You’re the one who wanted to talk on the phone in the first place. And he would never suggest anything to make you uncomfortable, and he thinks that you know that. It’s like what the two of you do in your lives — a conversation, a back and forth that may end up benefitting both of you.
“Depends on what you’re lookin’ for, Conejita. I’m a man of many talents.” The words are slick on his tongue, silvery with enticement.
“Hm…” you ponder out loud, tapping your index finger against your bottom lip before turning back to the camera, “Can you cook?”
“Decently. Can’t claim I’m a chef, but I feed myself. And m’pretty good at a grill and makin’ some of my mamá’s recipes. Insisted on teaching them to me so they didn’t end with her.”
Grinning warmly, he feels his heartbeat kick up against his chest, thumping hard at the sight of you giving him that look. “That’s so sweet that she taught you. You can teach me, then someone else in the world will know her recipes too.”
Christ, you’re so fucking adorable. He doesn’t know what he wants more in the moment: to keep talking and simply listen to your voice, or to flirt his way into something more.
“She might be a better teacher than me, baby. Would probably be over the moon if you asked to learn since she had to force me a bit,” he laughs along with your quiet giggle, taking a deep breath when you bite down on your bottom lip.
“Are you a good teacher of other things?”
“I’d like to think so. Haven’t I taught you new things already, Conejita?”
There goes his heartbeat when you look away from the camera, smirk lifting your cheekbones as your demeanor goes shy, shrugging your shoulders as you lay back again, shifting to get comfortable.
“You have…And now I’ve learned how sexy your voice is, too. I’ll be picturing everything you type now to be said in your voice.”
Frankie breathes out a chuckle, a heat burning the nap of his neck, trickling down his back. He feels the effects of his blood rushing below his belt, ever-so-slightly lightheaded as he quietly palms his bulge in his sweatpants.
“My voice is sexy?”
“Um, duh. Are you kidding me? You sound all…rugged and raspy and deep. Like you could manhandle me easily,” you admit your thoughts easily, and he sighs quietly at the thought of having you in front of him to throw around his bed and mold you into the positions he dreams of getting you into.
“No tienes ni idea de lo que haría contigo (You've got no idea what I would do with you)...” he mumbles under his breath, hearing a soft whimper from you. One of your arms is slung across your front, pressing your breast into the other and he can take a guess as to what your hand is up to. “You want some help, baby? I bet you’re jus’ feeling so needy, aren’t you? Listening to my voice got you that worked up?”
“Mhmm…I need it, Frankie…” Your voice has the edge of a whine and he exhales slowly as he hears you beg for him. Not his call sign or a username. His name. Him. There’s no one else who’s making you feel this way, no one else striving for attention.
He pushes his pants down, pulling his hard cock out to start slowly stroking. You’ve left him aching, dripping precum that his fingers smear around his length to lubricate as he moves up and down in a teasing pace.
“Use your manners, Conejita. What d’you say?”
“Please. Please, Frankie. I wanna hear your voice, I want you to tell me what to do.” He hisses from behind his teeth as he squeezes his cock at the base, leaning his head back against his headboard before his focus zeroes in on you on his screen, asking for his guidance, his control to get you off. No one else privy to the sights he’s seeing.
“Good girl. Such a good girl for me, baby. Why don’t you take off your shirt for me? Let me see you, bonita.” Wetting his lips with his tongue when you move to prop your phone up on your mattress, an expert at framing yourself perfectly. The thin, worn fabric of your sleep shirt slips over your head, leaving you on full display for him — already pantyless. Whether you started the call with any on is a mystery to him, but now, he settles back to tell you exactly what he wants from you…what he knows will feel good for his conejita.
“Okay, bunny, lean back for me…That’s it, get comfortable. Good girl.” Looking into your camera to your side, a nervous smile plays at your lips, shyness overcoming you as you wait with bated breath for Frankie, who’s still a mystery to you, to instruct you. It’s driving him mad, how trusting you are of him without ever seeing his face. Such a sweet girl. His sweet girl.
“Show me how you like to play when no one’s watching.”
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When his phone dings one evening a few weeks later, Frankie pulls himself out from under the hood of his project car. A familiar fizz bubbles over his body, a Pavlovian response that’s been built over the last few weeks he’s been talking to you. There have been text chains, full of flirty sincerity, and more phone calls, all with his camera off but not all ending like that first one. There have been times when the two of you have had long conversations, full of laughter and learning about the other. A few calls have ended with you falling asleep, stuffed bunny tucked under your chin and pillowy lips parted slightly with deep, even breaths.
Admittedly, he’s grown attached. Maybe a bit much for…whatever this relationship or friendship is, but he can’t help the teenage giddiness he’s felt with every text chime, ringtone, or dial that he’s found you on the other end of.
He’s got a crush.
So immediately at the peal of his cell, he’s reaching for the rag on his workbench, wiping his hands clean of grease before reading over your message.
Conejita:
Hiii 😚
Are you busy?​
Grinning like a fool at the gray bubble, Frankie begins to type out a response before abandoning the message and clicking the phone button at the top of your name instead. Pressing the speaker to his ear, he runs a thumb across his bottom lip while he listens to the trill of the dial tone. Steps pace him across the garage, counting them in his head as he waits for an answer.
“Hey, stranger.” The line clicks on and your voice immediately draws a smile across Frankie’s face, hearing one of yours in your upbeat tone.
“Hey, Conejita. What’s up with you?” Even your presence over the phone calms his nerves, sparking kindling low in his gut that spreads down to his toes and up to the back of his neck. Frankie tucks his phone between his ear and shoulder as he wanders back over to the carhood, shutting it carefully. He retreats inside, washing his hands as he listens to you recount your day.
“...So then I got pissed off and left ‘cause she was being so unreasonable. And then I wanted to talk to you ‘cause, I dunno.” The intensity in your cadence slows down toward the tailend of your story of an argument with a friend of yours; Frankie chuckles, biting his tongue while you sigh deeply and he dries his hands off on a kitchen towel.
“You don’t know why you wanted to talk to me? Don’t get all shy on me now, cariño,” he teases you, receiving a frustrated huff on the other end. “Well, for what it’s worth, I agree with you. She sounds like she has a stick up her ass. And m’glad you wanted to call me, Conejita.”
“D’you wanna switch to Facetime?”
“‘Course, I do. Always wanna see your face, jus’ one sec…” Frankie climbs his stairs two at a time, reaching the landing as his screen lights up with the Facetime request from you. He answers it, camera off, while he changes out of dirty clothes and listens to you chatting about plans for the weekend. He mentions going out with the guys tomorrow night, and you make a jest that gets him laughing, both of you bantering back and forth before he settles back on his bed.
“Y’know, I am content to chat with you like this, Frankie. But I keep wondering what you look like…” In the small rectangle of his screen, you lean forward to fill more of it, cleavage exposed in your bralette. He’s been waiting for this to be brought up again, and feeling so much more comfortable with you, he can’t admit he hasn’t thought about it. But with that stronger connection comes the anxieties. What if he isn’t what you pictured? What if he isn’t your type? What if you don’t like him anymore?
Frankie thinks he’s decent looking enough — he hasn’t had much trouble pulling girls since he was a teenager, but not being the most commanding or charismatic in the room, he has had his bouts of struggle in the relationship department.
“Please, Frankie. S’not fair I get to hear your sexy voice and not know what you look like. Pretty please, I’ll give you something special if you do,” you bargain with a pout on your face, bottom lip protruding and puffy. He wants to kiss it away, bite down on the glossy flesh, work away your frowning moue with his own mouth. Wonderings of what you taste like.
Coming back into himself, he wears a proud, intrigued smirk that you’re blind to except for the way his words curl around his slick, silvery tongue, “Oh, is that right, bunny? What if I wanna know what the something special is to decide?”
“Not how it works, silly. Either you want something special or you don’t.” A stern shake of the head, sitting up straight as you raise an eyebrow at him.
He sits with it for a moment, thoughts warring on the inside. In the end, his realistic side barters that either way could end badly: he doesn’t turn the camera on and you get frustrated, ending it, or he does turn the camera on and you don’t like the look of him, ending it. A phantom whisper of your voice, bubbly and bright, reminds him that it could make everything even better, and that ultimately is what convinces him.
“Alright, alright. You make a convincing argument, Conejita.”
A beaming smile stretches across your face as you draw a leg up to your chest, resting your head on your kneecap while you hold back your excitement and anticipation. Frankie takes in the sight of you, astir on tenterhooks.
“Here goes nothing,” he mumbles to himself before his thumb is pressing the camera button, illuminating himself on your screen. He sees himself in the smaller rectangle in the corner, grimacing before he laughs softly and grins, awaiting your reaction with waves of solicitude raging inside.
You see him, your Frankie. Filling your phone screen. Finally.
A nearly inaudible gasp leaves your lips, blocked from the mic by your knee. Studying his face, you witness the lines next to his eyes deepening as he laughs, his shy smile growing on his face. Big brown eyes strike your chest, their sincere softness making you want to fall into their warmth and stay there forever. Like the comforting heat of a mug of coffee on a chilly morning. You note that your visualizations were correct, mostly. Brown hair, curling out from under the cap branded with Standard Oil that sits on his head. Wide set shoulders that extend out of frame, a build to him that screams he most definitely can manhandle you around in bed. His call sign makes a bit more sense to you, seeing patches in his short beard, admiring the one on his left cheek that is shaped like a heart. Simply endearing. The image of him in front of you sends a shock to your core, wet spot in your panties growing as you begin to imagine what the rest of him looks like.
Hot is all you can think. Frankie is fucking hot.
His voice cuts through your trails of admiration, joking around to break the silent tension, “So are you gonna ask me to keep my camera off now?”
As you swallow to recover some of your composure, shaking your head back and forth quickly before a genuinely eager smile paints your expression. Leaning closer to see more of his details, freckles across his neck and where his shirt exposes a sliver of his chest, the peak of his cupid’s bow shaded by his mustache, long eyelashes that reach toward his eyebrows. You drop your knee from in front of you, leaning an elbow on the surface of your desk and resting your shin in your palm.
“Frankie, respectfully, what the fuck? You’re so hot.”
A boisterous laugh rolls from his chest, the same shy smile returning with a blush across his cheeks, “Conejita, you’re the hot one between us.”
“No, no, I’m being serious. You’re like — Damn. Your smile. And you have pretty eyes, Frankie. And you’re just like…really fucking hot. I can’t even think of another word. You should be the one doing what I’m doing.”
“Oh, c’mon, you’re only seeing my face, baby.”
“Yeah, and? It’s a pretty face…Wanna sit on it.” Your giggle cuts through his speakers, and Frankie groans at the comment. Saliva coats your mouth as you watch the muscles in his neck tense, licking your chops like a prowling lion. If only he was in front of you right now…
“Diablita…eres una problema. (Little devil…you’re a problem.) Do I get my special something now?”
Another giggle and a mischievous smirk make Frankie’s brows stitch together in frustration, your shoulders shrugging as you toy with the strap of your bra, hooked under your index finger, “Actually, I think I wanna move the goalpost. Will you show me what I’m missin’, Frankie? I wanna see more.”
Desire burns bright and wild inside of you, ache building between your legs as your arousal drips from your panties and onto your thighs. You’d been picturing him — all of him — for weeks. Ever since that first message. But now, seeing him on your phone screen, your imagination is running wild with newfound information and attempting to fill in the blanks. He has to be big, thickness would be just right. He’s the quiet type, unassuming in his own looks, which means he has to have a virtually perfect dick. It's the rules of the universe. Undecided if he’s cut or not, but regardless, picturing your manicured fingers wrapped around it and tongue licking at his tip. Watching him come undone from you. Stomach tensing, those long fingers that you sneak a peek of when he adjusts his hat wrapped up in your hair. Rasping moans. What would he taste like?
Frankie shakes his head, a quick tsking drawing your attention back to the moment as he looks on with a teasing expression, “Conejita, I don’t think it works like that.”
“Okay, then no special something for you. Your choice, Francisco.”
He watches as you move the strap back up your shoulder, the soft snap of the elastic against your skin. Huffing out a frustrated breath, he mumbles, “No serías tan valiente si estuvieras aquí conmigo, mocosa. (You wouldn’t be so brave if you were here with me, brat.)”
Uncaring in whatever annoyances he was airing with you, you watch him sit up further in the frame, knocking off his cap and reaching for the hem of his shirt. Despite his words, he lifts his shirt over his head, looking back at the camera, bare shoulders and chest on display, “This is what you get for now, bunny.”
Satisfaction glows from your smile, biting hard into your bottom lip while Frankie watches your eyes search everywhere on your screen besides his own. A stern clearing of his throat breaks your trance, a commanding expression on Frankie’s face.
“You promised me something, Conejita.”
A deep pout replaces your grin, huffing in defiance as you slip your bra straps from your shoulders, “Can’t you please take the rest off? Show me what I wanna see, Frankie. Please.”
“Nah uh. Quit demanding, baby. Y’know that’s my job. Now tell me, what are you gonna do for me to get what you want?” His unwavering voice surprises you, despite hearing it for weeks. With the added heat factor of his looks, you crumble a bit quicker, clenching your thighs as you sigh and nod obediently.
“I’ll do anything, Frankie. Jus’ tell me what to do, I wanna make you happy.”
He grins on the screen, sincere softness peeking out, “Oh, baby, y’know it’s easy to make me happy. Jus’ gotta be a good little bunny, yeah?” He hums, licking his lips as he ponders what he wants from you tonight, a night he wants to fill with another milestone for the two of you. He’s only seen you use a small vibrator or your fingers on the phone with you, but he knows what else you have. He’s watched the video of you using it on your profile only about ten times.
“Get your pretty pink toy for me, Conejita. Y’know the one. And then get on the floor and you’re going to show me exactly how you use it.”
There’s rustling as you follow his instructions, stripping bare and suctioning the toy to your hardwood floors, propping the phone up for him to see it all. The hot pink dildo bobbles from you moving around it, glistening with lube that you applied — even though with one glance at your cunt, both you and Frankie know you wouldn’t need it. Straddling over the silicone, you slowly tease your entrance with it, whining before you make one more attempt to Frankie watching you with a smugness in his smirk.
“Please, Frankie, can’t you please show me your cock? I wanna picture it while I fuck myself. Wanna know if it’s how I imagined…Dream about it a lot.” He can read right through your tactics, but his dick can’t. It strains against his zippered jeans, throbbing under the fabric for some sort of relief. He squeezes his palm over it once, exhaling as he shakes his head, strong in his convictions.
“Be a good girl, and I’ll show you what you wanna see.” No more room for negotiations.
“Yes’sir.”
Frankie’s mouth hangs ajar while his focus trains on the apex of your thighs. Watching you slowly sink down, the bright pink rubbery toy disappears inside of you. Whimpers slip from your lips as you brace your hands on your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin. Need burns brightly in his chest and below his belt, clenching his jaw while he imagines biting the meaty part of you, leaving teeth marks in his wake before settling his mouth at your entrance.
Your hips set a quick pace, desperate for the high you’ve been dripping for since getting on the phone with Frankie. A low growl followed with a disapproving tut clicks over the speakers of your phone.
“Slow down, baby girl. Not a race…” Frankie corrects, and the only response you have is a frantic nod, turning your movements to a drag. The toy fills you up, stretches you the most that you have ever been. Pain heats your feelings of pleasure, intensifying it all in the lightness of your limbs and head. The ridges of the faux veins of the fake cock impress into your walls, the tip of it notching at the spot inside of you that Frankie taught you to reach. It only skates by it, whines accompanying your frustrations.
Frankie, on the other end, listens to the squelch of your pussy around the silicone. The sound drives him to fully cup his erection through his pants, palming himself with heady breaths as your own moans for him drive the iron hot brand of need deeper into his skin. He can see your need for a change, your need to be given permission to chase that feeling that’s within reach.
“Lean back, little bunny. Sit back on your hands and use your hips…Show me more of that pretty pussy,” he instructs, cool and confident while his hips buck up into his hand. Being his perfect girl, you do as he says and change positions, gasping when you sink down onto the toy. Your cunt clenches around it, a satisfied smirk painting Frankie’s face. He knows he’s gotten you to hit that special spot. With the grip your entrance has around the base of the dildo, he wonders if you’ll pop it off of the floor on your next thrust.
“Oh, fuck…Frankie, wish you were here. Tell me—tell me what you’d do to me if you were here,” you beg, your hips still dragging at the new angle.
A groan escapes Frankie at your request, biting down hard on his lip and taking his hand away from his lap to deny himself the temptation.
“You love hearing me say all the dirty things to you, huh Conejita?” Without waiting for an answer, he continues, “If I were there with you, I’d would be—shit—I’d be devouring you right now. Fucking you with my tongue and my fingers, making you squeeze me and getting your come all over my face. Gotta get you ready for me, bunny. After, I’d flip you over. Get your pretty ass up for me, and I’d fuck you senseless. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Turn it all off up there and just let me take care of you…”
Nodding, your hips start to move faster as Frankie speaks to you. He doesn’t have the heart to tease you anymore, letting you start to take what you want for a bit. Your moans pitch up, tits bouncing with your nipples pebbled and the rest of your soft curves twisting as you rock back and forth on the toy.
“Yes, please. I want that,” you mewl, heavy breaths erratic.
“That’s right. My baby deserves it all,” he says with a sigh, his large palm squeezing his hard cock again, slowly unzipping his jeans and slipping his hand into his boxers to grip himself at the base. “I’d fuck you until that pretty little brain of yours was filled up only with thoughts of how good I make you feel. How good you are for me, pretty girl…Look at you go, bouncing on that toy. Rub your clit, Conejita. Slow, at least for right now.”
You follow his orders, supporting yourself on one arm. Slow circles against your clit have you shuddering with pleasure, a twitch of your tummy as you moan. Your eyes flutter shut, face twisting with overwhelming need. Frankie drinks in the sight, indulging himself in a few long strokes of his cock before he hears it.
“Daddy…” you breathe, near a whisper, but it’s audible to him. Lost in yourself, you don’t even notice you’ve let it slip until it comes again, “Oh my god, Daddy.”
The surprise of it shocks your eyes open, stuttering your hips as you narrow in on your screen. Frankie’s eyes grow dark, licking his lips as he holds in a loud moan. His fingers grip the base of his aching cock, holding off at the edge. So close to coming when he heard that word drip from your mouth like melted sugar.
He can tell you’re attempting to gauge his reaction, nervous settling in as you attempt to move on from it and continue fucking yourself closer to finishing. Frankie’s eager to take it in stride, clearing his throat before he gives it right back to you, opening that door that he knows won’t be shut any time soon. At least not by him.
“Yeah, that’s right, baby. Let Daddy tell you what you need, yeah?” He chuckles darkly, satisfaction thumping in his veins while you nod and whimper yes yes yes back to him, “Y’know, if you like that lil’ toy, baby, Daddy’s cock will feel even better. S’bigger than that fucking thing.”
“Oh, fuck, I need to—I need you, Daddy, please!”
“I know, Conejita, I know. Poor little thing jus’ needs Daddy to be filling her up, huh? You wanna know what my cock feels like inside of you, don’t you, pequeña?” He hisses with a buck of his hips into his fist, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief second.
“Yes, yes, please, Daddy! Please,” you choke on a breath and Frankie can see you twitch at your inner thighs from the full-on view of your pussy, your tell-tale sign that you’re about to come.
“Y’know the rules, Conejita. Better ask before you come.”
“Please, please may I come?” you moan, rubbing faster circles against your clit and grinding down on your toy.
“Oh, bunny, you can ask nicer than that. May I come…?” he leads, smirking devilishly when you nearly squeal from the way he’s holding you out on the edge. Teetering on the verge of that high that he knows well, he can see your legs faltering with a cramp.
“Please may I come, Daddy?” Your eyes open, heavy-lidded and lips parted with shallow breathing. Frankie gets lost in the sight, wrecked from his direction, his words, a sheen of sweat over your skin and the arousal coating your thighs. A fucking dream.
“Mm, come for Daddy, baby girl—” he’s interrupt as you erupt in a high-pitched moan, mouth wide open as you string together mumblings Oh fuck, Daddy, feels so good. Need you so bad…
“Good girl.”
Frankie hums contently, chuckling as a dopey grin finds your face, blinking through the orgasmic haze. Laying back, you slip the toy out of your pussy, leaving it to wobble in place and spreading your legs around it. One arm comes to rest against your forehead, breasts rising and falling with deep, recovering breaths. He’s blocked of the view that would make this moment even sweeter, licking his lips before he speaks up.
“Lemme see that fucked cunt of yours, bunny. Let Daddy see what belongs to him.” You sit up again, popping the toy off of the floor and laying it to the side to be cleaned later. Frankie hums as you part your legs more, the glittering of your come dripping on your thighs and across your swollen pussy. “Eres un buen oyente, pequeña. (You’re a good listener, little one.)”
“What’s that mean?” you ask, a long exhale punctuating the question.
“You’re a good listener, little one.” Frankie grins when you grow shy, inching your legs together before he tsks again, one hand coming into frame to motion for your lower limbs to part again.
“Y’know, it would look even prettier with my come dripping out of ya, baby.”
“Please.”
“What, Conejita?”
“Don’t tease me anymore…Can’t take it, Daddy.” You lips push out in a pout, subtle but he can catch the change in expression.
“Nah uh, no pouting, bunny. Who said that I was teasing? I’m going to make it happen.”
Sweetness slips from your lips in a giggle, leaning over to pick up your phone and hold him closer to your face.
“So, if I was a good girl, doesn’t that mean I get to see what I asked for before?” Wiggling in eagerness, Frankie feigns ignorance, scratching at his beard as he shrugs, acting as if he didn’t nearly come in his pants multiple times in the last few minutes.
“I dunno, Conejita. What did you ask me for? Gonna have to remind me.”
“Your cock. I wanna see it.” Your pout sneaks back, biting your lip. “May I please see your cock, Daddy?”
“I think I could do that for you, baby. Asking so nicely. Such a good girl for Daddy, yeah?”
“Always.��� A giggle bubbles up from your tummy, biting down on your lip as Frankie takes you in, shaking his head in subtle disbelief. How the hell did clicking for one subscription get him here, having Facetime sex with you?
He obliges your original requests, moving to prop his phone up in front of him, stripping down his jeans first. The sight of his bulge waters your mouth, pupils widening in want at the outline of his cock. No tricks of the light, no chance of manipulation like some men in your DMs do. All natural.
And Frankie wasn’t lying. He’s big.
The reveal comes when he tugs his boxers down to his ankles, settling in front of the camera again. His heavy length rests against his lower stomach, precum dripping into his dark happy trail. Your eyes drag over the veins ribbing him, leading down to show off that he’s tastefully groomed. Swallowing saliva, you lick your lips as his large hand wraps around, slow strokes that gently shift the foreskin away from his tip. The end of his cock glistens with pebbles of precum, red and aching. Frankie hisses at the contact, the veins in his neck straining against his skin while he starts to fuck his fist.
“You look so pretty, Daddy,” you compliment sweetly, grinning at him as he laughs quietly back at you.
“Such a sweet little bunny. You think you can take me in your tight little cunt?” A long exhales concaves his chest, quiet moans as his hand picks up pace. 
You return his regular favor of talking him through it, detailing how good of a girl you’d be for him, telling him all that he would be allowed to do to you. The sounds Frankie makes has you dripping again, getting his permission to fuck your fingers, both of you driving each other to a peak, your second one taking the breath from your lungs as Frankie comes at the same time. Whimpers escape your mouth as you envy his hand and stomach being covered in his release, biting your tongue and crowding the screen as he shows off how much you made him come.
“Wish I was there to clean you up, Daddy.”
“Right back at you, Conejita.”
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A few days later, Frankie calls you after one of your livestreams, grinning like a schoolboy when you answer in only your underwear. You laugh as you set your phone down on the surface of your dressing, his childish smirk turning to a pout as he stares at your white painted ceiling. Calling out to him, you ask for one second while you tug a sweatshirt over your head, shuffling around before grabbing the device and relaxing back on your bed, bunny in your lap.
“Hi, baby,” Frankie coos, one side of his mouth lifting in a smile as he drinks in your cozy, drowsy demeanor. Cuddling with the toy against your chest, you grin back at him, curling up onto your side like a cat.
“Hi, Frankie,” you mumble back, exhaustion heavy in your eyes.
“You sleepy, little bunny?” A slow nod answers his question. “Alright, I won’t keep you up for long then. Just had a question for you.”
The vague proposition piques your interest, your eyes shooting open and the camera being brought closer to your face, “What’s your question?”
Frankie works his lips between his teeth, nerves crackling over his entire body. Realistically, he knows you’ll say yes, but there’s still that chance for rejection in the moment. His left leg bounces against his couch, hand running over his face as he takes a deep breath in, “I was wondering if you’d wanna come visit me here in Florida? If you don’t have time—”
“I would love to come visit, Frankie,” you agree immediately, a sincere smile growing on your face. Frankie mirrors your excitement with a goofy grin, the creases next to his eyes deepening and his dimple cratoring his cheek. “I’ll even book my flight right now, that’s how eager I am.”
Shaking his head furiously, he clicks his tongue in a tut, scolding you playfully, “Hey, hey. No, none of that. I’m not letting my baby pay, I’m the one who asked you to come.”
“But—”
“Nope, no buts. Except yours getting onto a plane and coming to see me,” Frankie laughs at his own joke, earning a playful eye roll as you hold back your own chuckle. “Oh, c’mon, that was funny, Conejita. I can tell you want to laugh.”
The two of you go back and forth while he books your flight on his laptop, showing off the confirmation number once it’s all gone through. Both of you wear shit-eating grins on your faces, sitting in disbelief.
Frankie can’t help the rush of anxiety, unable to tell if it’s solely from his excitement. All he can think about is having you in front of him, in the flesh, in person. No screens between the two of you, no broken signals or shitty wifi interruptions. Hearing your voice without the strain of speakers, getting to touch you, taste you, hear you, feel you all over him. There’s the flash of a vision of you laid out underneath him, making your little sounds that drive him crazy and digging your nails into his back…
“Gonna let Daddy spoil you while you’re down here, baby girl?” Frankie smirks as you stretch sleepily, biting down on your lip.
“You’re flying me out, isn’t that spoiling me enough? Shouldn’t it be my turn to spoil you then?”
“Think you know the answer to that, baby. Having you in front of me is spoiling me enough, I jus’ wanna take care of you.” 
The simple statement brings a smile to your face, shyly tucking your face into your pillow. The rest of the call relaxes you back to near sleep, listening as Frankie tells you all about what he’ll take you to do. Your drowsiness catches up with you, drifting off on the phone. Frankie chuckles quietly to himself, sitting with you for a moment silently before he goes to hang up.
“Night, Conejita. Can’t wait to see you.”
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taglist: @northernbluess @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsmando @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @pertinentpostmortem @livingdeadmaria @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @its-nebuleuse @marini03 @piercethevic03 @joeandpedrosimp @kiwisbell @planet-marz1 @txtattoostark @jrosie25 @vee-bees-blog @joelsflannel @k-k0129 @cartoon-garbage04 @nostalxgic @ravenpoe67
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werewolf-witchboy · 2 months
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😇✨ Sugar Daddy Lucifer Morningstar X Gender Neutral Sugar Baby Reader ✨😇
SUMMARY: you're the king of Hell’s favorite influencer and he wants to make it very clear how much he appreciates you and loves your content, thus starting a transactional relationship between the two of you that slowly turns into something more.
WARNING: light stalker stuff going on for a little bit lol ┐( ̄ヮ ̄)┌ also some sugar baby catching feelings for sugar daddy nonsense
(also- i'm using the terms "sugar daddy" and "sugar baby" pretty loosely, and there are no sexual transactions in this story)
NOTE: I keep going back and forth between saying “livestream” and “video,” so just assume that in the story y/n mainly does livestreams and uploads them as videos later.
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•You started out as a humble influencer in Hell.
•What you didn't know is that you happened to be the favorite influencer of THE king of Hell Lucifer himself.
•I personally headcanon that when this man finds something he likes, he REALLY obsesses over it.
•I can imagine him laying in bed with a cozy blanket and a snack, kicking his knees while watching your latest upload.
•Not gonna lie Luci got kinda stalker-ish in order to find you and know you in person.
•He is the king after all, so therefore he has ways to find and keep track of his people.
•It started as him sending you money anonymously as a way to give his appreciation to his favorite content creator.
•You'd sometimes get small donations here and there from different people, but you definitely noticed the big donations you'd consistently get. Even though they were all anonymous, you assumed they were all from the same person because it was usually always an absurd amount of money to donate to an influencer.
•While livestreaming one day you mentioned that you wanted to find out who this anonymous donor was and somehow do something special to thank them.
•Lucifer NEVER misses one of your livestreams and felt extra fanboyish thinking about his fav influencer doing something special specifically for him.
•He knew he couldn't just message you and say “I'm your anonymous donor” because he didn't have a public account. If he were to message with his anonymous account saying that he's the king of Hell you'd obviously think he was lying.
•HERE is where his stalker era starts. 💀
•Luci comes up with this convoluted plan that actually somehow ends up working exactly the way he wanted.
•He happens to “find” you at a place he knew is your favorite café just outside of Cannibal Town.
•He pretends to just be casually walking by (well, as “casual” as the king of Hell can be)
”Oh hey! I've seen a few of your videos, I like your content!”
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•You're absolutely baffled that the man in front of you praising your content is Lucifer himself.
•Lucifer invites himself to sit down with you, and how could you possibly refuse.
(He knows using his status to get what he wants is a lil problematic, but he easily pushes any guilt aside cuz he gets to be in your presence. He honestly wonders why he hadn't done this sooner.)
•He uses this opportunity to ask you a bunch of questions he's always wanted to ask, as if this were his personal Q&A with you. You happily answer his questions and even ask your own, eager to get to know Lucifer.
•Eventually he asks the main question that'll set his plan into place.
“Have you ever done any collabs?”
Of course he already knows the answer is no.
•”I've never asked anyone to collaborate with me, I'm a little insecure and automatically think they'll say no.”
•”I'm shocked! I'd personally love to be in one of your videos!” He boasts.
•Even though you've been talking for a while now, your brain still hasn't been fully able to compute that you're not only talking to Lucifer Morningstar, he says he enjoys your content, AND he just said he'd like to be in one of your videos.
•”Wha- I'm sure you've got so much more important things to do!”
•”I've got spare time!”
•When he realized he was probably starting to sound desperate, he backed it up a bit;
“I'm not trying to invite myself into one of your videos, but what I am saying is that IF I were one of those people you were to ask then I'd definitely accept your offer!” He twiddled his fingers nervously under the table, his smile never faltering.
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•”oH I mean I do want to ask you- I am asking you!” You become just as nervous as Lucifer, fumbling over your words a bit.
•Before you can say anything else he raises from his seat and extends his hand out in agreement. “Sounds good to me!” You quickly stand to take his hand and shake it.
•The two of you calm down a bit and start discussing times and dates, even though Lucifer knows he's just going to accept whatever day you suggest and cancel any plans that he might already have for that day.
•Lucifer's little plot went perfectly.
•The day came when Luci got to feature in a video with his fav influencer.
•The video blew up super quickly, you gained a whole new wave of fame.
•Not only was he in the video with you, but he also got to spend the whole day with you.
•Somewhere along the way he kind of forgot that he was with his fav influencer and started to feel more like he was just hanging with a friend…which, honestly, he hasn't really had a friend in a long time.
•Also- you had noticed that during the stream with Lucifer you didn't get any donations from your special anonymous donor who never missed any of your previous streams.
•THIS MOMENT is where Lucifer knows he could potentially ruin everything with you, but he wants to be honest.
•He tells you that he's the anonymous donor, and that he can prove it with receipts. He admits that he didn't just casually watch your content like he said previously, and that he's actually a super huge fan. He doesn't go into detail about the stalker-ish extent he went to find you though.
•You take a second to process everything.
•I think if it were any other man you'd probably be a bit weirded out. It's definitely mainly because he's the king of Hell, but also he's just so charming that it's kinda hard for you not to be flattered.
•Now the king of Hell is in your phone contacts and you've got a viral video of the two of you together that shows literally everyone that you know him, it all feels so surreal.
•You still get donations from him on your streams, they still say they're anonymous but you know it's him.
•Lucifer calls you ALL THE TIME, usually to talk about absolutely nothing and everything at the same time.
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•Suddenly he started showing up at your door with random gifts. Usually things that you mention very briefly on social media.
•Like one day you posted a pic on your story of a cute pair of shoes that you'd like to have, and the next day he's on your doorstep with a shoebox in hand.
•This escalated to him taking you out to dinner quite frequently, and he'd always go out of his way to reserve a special private area or even book out the whole restaurant.
•Then he started inviting you to visit him. Movie nights at his place, or he wants to show you something new he made.
•Eventually it turned into you staying the night at his place sometimes. You'd fall asleep during movie night and he didn't wanna wake you, or your home is just so far away and he didn't wanna let you go home in the dark.
•THEN it became you staying at his place for multiple days in a row, and sometimes it felt like you practically lived with him.
•You’d always ask Lucifer what you could do to repay him for all of the stuff he does for you, and he just replies that your company is enough to satisfy him and when you aren't around he still gets to watch your new videos.
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•After getting to know the king of Hell over the span of almost a full year, you've come to realize that he was a pretty lonely man before you met him.
•He almost never talks to his own wife, whom you aren't even sure is his wife anymore. He rarely talks to his daughter, and is terrified of not being a good enough dad to her. Most of his time is spent home alone if he isn't tending to somekind of personal royal business.
•You knew Lucifer meant it when he told you that your company is enough to repay him.
•Somewhere down the line, you've started catching yourself contemplating your feelings for him.
•Don't get me wrong, he's always made you swoon and get flustered. It's really hard not to when a handsome man is literally handing you everything you want on a golden platter.
•There are much more raw moments you have with him, when you're just sitting on the couch together and you start to think about your possible future together.
•You usually end up getting slapped with reality when you remember who it is you're looking at. The king of Hell.
•Being in a relationship with a man of such status could never be in the cards for you. You're aware that you're basically just his sugar baby and that's probably all you'll ever be.
•You were definitely fine with the transactional relationship between the two of you, in fact you enjoyed it.
•Now, with these feelings constantly creeping up on you it made everything so much more complicated, and it made it hard for you to be around him knowing you'll never be anything more to him than a sugar baby.
•Lucifer is a sweet man, but you know there's another side of him that's a powerful king. His wife was an equally powerful queen. You're not enough for him, he just wants someone to keep him company.
•What you don't know is that while you're sitting there on the couch next to him having an inner depressive episode, he's got a box in his pocket that he's waiting for the perfect moment to whip out.
•In the box is a flashy custom engagement ring that he wants everyone to be able to see from a mile away.
•That man wants to make you officially his and he has been trying his hardest to make that VERY clear.
•You're just kinda insecure and don't think high enough of yourself. ಥ⌣ಥ
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eviesaurusrex · 10 months
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ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ | ʜ. ꜱᴛʏʟᴇꜱ
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GIFs not mine!
Harry Styles x Wife!Reader
summary: Harry’s final show is over, and now the aftermath is hitting.
word count: 1.7k
warnings: crying, mentions of pregnancy (I couldn’t help it, sorry 👉🏻👈🏻), and dad-to-be!Harry, fluff, soft!reader, soft!Harry, more crying, just fluffness, not entirely proofread
author’s note: I only could watch parts of the livestream and saw videos on Twitter, and because I was so emotional over this, I had to write something. This is my first time writing in a while, so please bear with me, thaaaaanks
* * *
YN would have to lie if she told anybody her eyes were entirely dry over the course of his final show. No one would believe her anyway because the internet was full of evidence that she certainly had been crying—she had been a never-ending waterfall from the minute the intro had started, and Harry arrived on stage.
Maybe her hormones were already more chaotic and over the top than she had anticipated.
But seeing him falling to his knees, overwhelmed by all the emotions crashing down on him, seeing his loyal fans in numbers of thousands gathered to celebrate him and his last night on tour, also took her in. A moment after, she had found herself in the embraces of Anne and Gemma, all three women watching the man they loved so deeply and dearly doing what he loved the most while the venue cheered for him. It was an otherworldly moment, YN was sure of it. Her heart ached in astonishing proudness, in overwhelming love and devotion, but also in sympathy because the woman already knew how hard this was for Harry. He just loved his work just as much as he loved her. But she would be ready to catch him from falling and build him up again if he needed it.
Apparently, Harry’s goal tonight was to make this even more emotional than it already was, to ingrain it in her memory for all the years ahead of them, as he stood again and slowly, still in awe, walked back to the microphone stand, the Love Band in his back. YN only could wipe away the last fallen tears, her head resting against Anne’s shoulder, feeling Gemma’s head resting on hers, before Harry’s next words let new salty oceans well up in her already red eyes.
“This-this tour was the biggest adventure so far in my life, and-and I will be forever grateful for the experiences I was fortunate enough to have, thanks to all of you. I will never forget that. Never. But now—“ His still watery eyes searched through the crowds until he seemingly found her, a knowing smile stretching over his lips. “Now, I’ll aboard the grandest adventure of a lifetime, feeling prepared enough not to make a fool out of myself, for not letting this gorgeous, gorgeous woman—“ He pointed in her direction, and the fans screamed as some of them seemed to realize what he was telling them. “—down and disappoint her. You helped me to grow over the past two years, and becoming a dad isn’t so frightening anymore.” Now, everyone caught up to it, the venue boomed and buzzed with excitement, and YN couldn’t hold back the pent-up tears and the smile appearing on her face.
This really was a final show to behold.
“Thank you to all of you. I might be gone for a while, but I’ll come back with something magical. I promise. Stay true, stay wild, stay kind. Remember everything will be alright.”
* * *
It took almost two hours until YN saw Harry rounding the corner and walking toward her in their hotel room. She had already gotten ready for the night, had ordered dinner for them, and got the place as cozy as possible. They wouldn’t stay long here before finally heading to Harry’s Italian sanctuary, reveling in the endless amounts of free and uninterrupted time together, distressing from this incredible tour, and preparing everything for the new addition to their small family.
“Hey,” she whispered as Harry wordlessly sank to his knees in front of the bed, kneeling between her legs and resting his head against her chest. YN could hear him humming in contentment as her fingers started to card through his still-damp hair, not caring for the sweat clinging to him. “You were incredible. I am so, so proud.” She continued to whisper praise after praise, interrupted only by soft kisses to the top of Harry’s head until she felt his shoulders shake under her loving hands and the quiet sobs pressed out against her top. “Oh, baby…” Tightly, they held onto one another, feeling each other as closely as possible while he drenched her shirt in much-needed tears and never let go of her.
YN didn’t care a millisecond for her clothes and let him cry until the only sounds inside the hotel room were his heavy, shaky breaths and her soothing voice, whispering sweet nothings into his soft curls, against his forehead, his temple. She felt his strong hands on her back, his long fingers burying into the soft fabric of her shirt, which had been once his a long time ago. Not able to stop, YN continued to press kisses to every spot she could reach and gently guided him through the emotional turmoil of the aftermath as best as she could.
After some time, Harry inhaled deeply before a long, deep sigh released it again, his body now unmoving resting against hers, slowly relaxing in her embrace. In one moment, he was like warmed clay under her hands, molding perfectly against her, and in the next, his hands had wrapped her legs around his waist, and he carried her wordlessly into the adjacent bathroom, gently placing her on the bench next to the shower. YN knew he needed her close, even though he stepped under the warm water stream alone at first. Without so much as a second thought, she discarded the clothes, ignored the fact that she had already showered earlier, and stepped right behind him into the glass cabin.
Hands softly, lovingly, glided over his hips before arms wrapped themselves around it, a face pressed against his back, fingers slowly tracing every single dark inked line on warm skin. Featherlike kisses flew over his back, and she could hear him sigh again, still not saying a word, still contemplating the last hours. Another heavy, shaky inhale was the sign of the next set of tears, and now, he turned in her arms and buried his face in the crook of her neck, pulling her as closely as possible to hold onto something in the sea of overwhelming emotions.
“It’s okay, love. Let it out. I’m here,” YN could only mumble against his shoulder, feeling somewhat helpless and on the verge of crying herself while the hormones started to run havoc inside her once again. But she never had liked seeing him upset or even crying, to begin with, too empathetic not to be fazed by it. Most times, she had cried alongside him until they laughed under tears which had always changed the mood to something brighter. But now, YN felt it wasn’t her place to cry along, so she bottled it up, forcing the traitorous tears down and let her hand find his cheek to gently caress it with the pad of her thumb.
Harry mumbled something inaudible against her neck, grabbing her tighter than before. “Hm? What was that?” YN asked quietly, her words almost drowned by the still-running shower. “Don’t think I’m mourning this tour more than I want to spend time with you,” he repeated himself and pulled his head back to let their foreheads meet again. “My career isn’t more important than you. Or the family we’re starting.” Blinking stunned, YN softly furrowed her brows, slowly shaking her head. “I’d never think that,” she finally whispered, not sure where this came from all of a sudden. Her thumbs wiped away the remaining tears. “There wasn’t a single moment in the past eight years where I felt like a second choice. I never thought you prioritized your career over me. So… Never think that. Okay? We know we’re loved without measure, beyond compare, H.”
At that, Harry started to smile, eyes still watery, and placed one of his hands over the place where his second true love was safely growing. “Thank you, sunflower.” It was only a whisper, voice filled with wonder, as he looked down at the woman who had decided he was worthy enough for her love all those years ago and who had grown alongside him. And now she gifted him the most precious thing he could ever ask for: fatherhood with the woman he loved more than anything else at his side.
YN smiled up at him and let Harry kiss her softly. “Nothing to thank me for, love. It’s my job. I’ll always be here to catch you, just as I have always done.“ Mumbling against his lips, she couldn’t let go of him, but soon, she was wrapped in a fluffy towel, and Harry lovingly dried her hair, always watching her through the mirror above the sink with a loving expression. She watched him just as closely, seeing that one familiar spark of inspiration lighting up in his mesmerizing eyes, but he contained himself. YN couldn’t have any of that. “You can go and do your magic, y’know? Dinner should be here soon, and the little bean and I can entertain ourselves.” But she should’ve known better and allowed Harry to pull her back against his chest. “The music can wait. I need this. Need you. Time with you. Wanna talk about anything and everything. Want to talk to the little bean. I want to have dinner with my wife on the balcony. I want to sleep in with her tomorrow before we head out to the villa.”
Sometimes, YN couldn’t comprehend her luck, couldn’t comprehend how it was possible for someone to love another human so deeply. It was like a miracle.
Grinning, she let both brows wander up in question. “Have you ever thought about telling your fans that the Harry Styles is not only becoming a dad but is also a married man?” A chuckle escaped them at that, and she still wondered how they had been so successful in keeping secrets from the world. “Maybe after coming back,” he continued to chuckle as he bent down and kissed her right shoulder, his thumbs now sweeping over her skin like soft feathers.
The moment of contentedly looking at one another through the slightly fogged-up mirror was over as the sound of knuckles against the wooden hotel room door echoed through their rooms. Harry bent down once again, his index finger resting under her chin and turning her face to capture her lips in another kiss. He just couldn’t get enough of her. “I’ll set up dinner, and you’ll get cozy again, sunflower.”
And with that, he ventured out of the bathroom, leaving a smiling YN behind.
* * *
As usual: Thanks for reading, folks <3 If you like my work, I’d be very happy if you reblog it because reblogs are super great! And I love to hear your thoughts, so hit me up whenever and however you like
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chahnniesroom · 5 months
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in sickness and in health
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pairing: kim seungmin x female reader
summary: you're the most important thing in seungmin's life, of course his biggest fear would be losing you. it means that taking care of you when you're not feeling well comes naturally.
word count: 2.1k
warnings: a little bit of angst, sickness (fever, feeling nauseous, etc.)
a/n: partially inspired by me being ill at work and my amazing coworkers taking care of me and making sure i didn't faint lol.
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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Seungmin loves being an idol. 
He loves to sing and performing in front of Stays always thrills him. He loves the other members and really, everyone else that he gets a chance to work with. At times it can be stressful, but for the most part, it’s fairly easy to manage the downsides of being famous.
But when he started dating you, he found out that there are parts of being an idol that he hates.
He always thought that he'd be different from a lot of idols and wouldn't be afraid to show his partner off. The second he met you though, he knew he'd do anything and everything in his power to keep you safe. You understand, of course, and do your part to make sure that only your closest friends and family are aware of who you're dating.
It pains Seungmin to do this, but he knows nothing good can come out of your identity being known.
The two of you are more than careful, sometimes Seungmin feels silly with how cautious he is about meeting up with you. Yet somehow his heart always feels like it will beat out of his chest whenever he sees articles that speculate about idol relationships.
You do your best to stop him from stressing, but it’s something that Seungmin can't quite shake. You're the most important thing in his life, of course his biggest fear would be losing you.
The first time his phone rings during a livestream with the whole group, Seungmin brushes it off. The caller ID says it's an unknown number and everyone he knows has been receiving a lot of spam calls and texts lately. 
He swipes away the notification and tries to focus on just reading comments when the same number calls back, a couple minutes later. He ignores it again, but on the third call, he nudges Chan’s knee beside him and subtly tilts his phone screen so that Chan can see. His phone is on silent so nobody watching the live should be able to tell that he's getting the calls, but the timing feels too coincidental for him not to be suspicious. 
"They keep calling," he says under his breath. 
"We'll get someone to look into the number later, just keep ignoring it," Chan advises quietly.
Seungmin takes a quick screenshot of the number, then tries to get back into the conversation to distract himself. The next time he looks down at his phone again, someone is once again calling him.
Seungmin almost reflexively rejects the call, until he realises it's your nickname flashing up on his screen.
You generally don’t call Seungmin without warning, especially not during the day when there’s a higher chance that Seungmin won’t be able to readily answer.
[sent - 3:12 pm]
sorry baby, working right now, can it wait?
His stomach drops when you just call again in response. He doesn’t want to alarm any of the members or the fans when he doesn’t know what’s going on, but he has a bad feeling about this. He once again flashes his phone to Chan briefly and leans in close.
“I want to take this, I don’t know why she’s calling, but something doesn’t seem right.”
Chan bites his lip, obviously torn for a second, before he seems to make up his mind.
“We’ve been live for almost 20 minutes, give me one second and we’ll end it so that you can talk to her, yeah?” Chan puts a hand on Seungmin’s shoulder and squeezes it tightly for a moment before clapping his hands together, effectively ending the conversation that the rest of the members were having.
Seungmin makes himself smile as they all say goodbye, but it's obvious that it's forced.
Even though the live ended as quickly as possible, Seungmin still has 2 new missed calls by the time he’s found himself an empty room to use.
"Hello?"
"Uhm hello, is this Min?" a man asks hesitantly. His voice is unfamiliar and it scares Seungmin. The only thing that brings a little bit of comfort is knowing that you’re careful to never call Seungmin by his full name when talking about him with friends or coworkers, you even have his contact information set as a nickname.
"Who is this?" he asks instead. “Where’s Y/n?”
"My name is Hyunwoo, I work with Y/n-ssi. I’m very sorry for interrupting you, but Y/n-ssi said that you were one of her emergency contacts. We tried to call with another number previously, but weren’t able to reach you."
“Sorry, I generally do not answer calls from unknown numbers. Is Y/n okay?” Seungmin swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Can I- can I please speak to her?”
“She’s just not feeling well and needs to go home. She’s resting in another room, but I can get her, one moment please.” 
There’s a bit of background noise, the sound of footsteps, murmuring, then finally, your voice.
“Minnie?” you ask, sounding groggy. “I’m sorry for bothering you, I know you were working today.”
“Hey baby, it’s okay. You don't have to worry about me. You know that you’re more important than work to me right? I’m glad you got them to call me. How are you doing?”
“I'm tired. I'm okay, just, I was feeling light-headed and have a headache so I can't work. Hyunwoo said he thinks I have a fever.”
“Okay, I’m going to pick you up and bring you home then. Just continue resting until I get there. I'll see you soon.”
Seungmin doesn’t know what he’d do without the other members. As soon as he finishes explaining the situation to them, they’re already calling a car and working out schedules so that there aren’t any problems.
Hyunwoo eyes Seungmin carefully when they first meet, likely due to the face mask and hat he's wearing. When Seungmin removes the mask and shakes Hyunwoo’s hand, he's relieved when he doesn't appear to recognise him. It's not exactly a surprise, men are generally less likely to follow k-pop groups and Seungmin hardly looks like an idol when he's barefaced and in the jeans and t-shirt that he wore for the live.
“Thank you for calling me, Hyunwoo-ssi,” Seungmin says. “Sorry I didn’t pick up at first.”
“It’s okay, Min-ssi. Y/n-ssi mentioned that your work might make you difficult to contact.” Seungmin appreciates that Hyunwoo doesn’t make any attempt to pry further.
“And thank you for taking care of Y/n.”
“It’s not a problem. Y/n-ssi is a pleasure to work with and we all want her to get better as quickly as possible. Come with me, I’ll bring you to her.”
You’re lying in a small meeting room that has all the lights off and blinds drawn. The table and chairs have all been shifted to the side to fit a yoga mat that has been laid out. You squint up at Seungmin from under a mis-match of jackets with your head resting on a pillow that matches the couches that were in the reception area of your office.
“Minnie?” Your voice is soft and a little bit confused.
“Yes, it’s me, Y/n. How’re you feeling?”
Seungmin rushes to your side, crouching on the carpet so that he can cup your cheek. Your skin is flushed and hot to the touch. You reach out a hand and he clasps it tightly with his free hand.
“Mm, I wanna go home.”
“Let’s go home then.”
The company car is still parked outside of your office building, close enough that you insist on walking yourself. Seungmin tries not to hover, but he makes sure to keep his arm looped around your waist so that you don’t stumble. The drive back to your place is fairly short, but when Seungmin glances over you’re looking unwell. Maybe it’s just the dim lighting from the backseat, but you look paler than usual and your eyes are closed.
“You feeling okay?” Seungmin asks, squeezing your hand.
“A bit nauseous,” you murmur.
“We’re almost there, just take a few deep breaths through your nose for me.”
Even though it's only a few minutes before they pull onto the street that you live on, it feels like forever. Seungmmin tries to keep you preoccupied by rubbing circles into your palm. Instead of trying to help you out of the car and into your apartment, Seungmin thanks the company driver and opts to just carry you all the way in. 
He helps to change you out of your work clothes and tucks you into your bed. You link your fingers together and protest when Seungmin attempts to leave your side.
“I promise I'll be back in a second, I just want to get some things to help you feel better, okay?” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You agree, but reluctantly.
Seungmin tries to stay quiet as he rummages around your apartment, gathering some medicine, a thermometer, a glass of water, and some crackers. Next he dampens a face cloth and brings everything to your bedside table, folding up the cloth and laying it across your forehead. 
He supports you in sitting up slightly to take your temperature, brushing his fingers through your hair as you wait for enough time to pass. You lean into his touch slightly, humming in pleasure when Seungmin switches to giving you a light head massage. When the thermometer beeps, it confirms what Hyunwoo suspected, you have a low grade fever.
“You have a bit of a fever,” Seungmin tells you, keeping his voice low. “Do you feel up to having some water and medicine? It'll help you feel better, I think.”
“Okay,” you say, taking the pills that Seungmin hands you and swallowing them with a bit of water.
“Do you want to rest some more now? I want you to stay hydrated so I can make broth for you or get juice.”
“Do you have another schedule? You don't have to stay and take care of me.”
“I don't have to, I want to. And what did I say earlier? Don't worry about me. I'm not missing anything important.”
“So you are missing something,” you insist, your stubbornness making itself known. Seungmin can't help but find it endearing, especially the way that your bottom lip juts out to form a pout.
“Just vocal lessons. I already know how to sing, so it’s fine. Innie had his scheduled for tomorrow, the two of us are going to swap.”
“Oh,” you say, apparently satisfied by that.
“See, nothing to worry about. Now, what did you want? Broth or juice?”
“Broth,” you decide. “But that means you'll have to leave again. I don't want to be alone.”
Seungmin hesitates for a moment before reaching for something resting on the side of your bed.
“You won't be alone, Daengmo will keep you company, okay?”
Seungmin had gifted the stuffed dog to you the first time he had gone abroad after the two of you had started dating, even though it was only to Japan. You had insisted that he keep it at first, knowing how fond he was of the toy, but he had convinced you that it would prevent you from missing him whenever he was away.
“M'kay,” you say sleepily, wrapping your arms around Daengmo.
“You can close your eyes while I'm gone and I'll be back before you know it.”
“I'm not tired,” you say, although even in the dim lighting Seungmin can see that your eyes are starting to droop. “I'm going to stay awake until you come back.”
“Whatever you say,” Seungmin replies.
He leaves your room, closing the door behind him quietly, and heads towards the kitchen.
Seungmin prepares a couple of pots to make you soup. The first he prepares with some ingredients to make a simpler version of a ginseng chicken soup. He knows it'll take a while to cook though, so he adds water, powdered chicken broth, and ginger to the second. Within a few minutes, the clear broth is ready to serve.
Seungmin scoops a portion of it into a mug and slips an ice cube in so that you won't burn your mouth trying to drink it. He makes his way back to your room as quickly as he can, but careful to avoid the liquid sloshing over the sides.
When he eases the door open, he's greeted with the side of you with your eyes closed, clutching Daengmo tightly. Your breaths are deep and even, although you stir slightly when he sets the mug down on your nightstand.
“I'm here now," he reassures you quietly. “You just keep resting.”
“Thank you for taking care of me,” you say in a small voice.
“Of course, I’ll always be here for you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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pt XVI good omens season 2 (still not traumatic) episode 3 EDINBURGH
HELLO IT'S ME IT'S THE OFFICIAL GOOD OMENS MASCOT WHY DO I STILL KEEP INTRODUCING MYSELF IDK. If you don't know who I am, thank God and Satan for their mercy and flee. Also, the day after I post this, I'll be watching the last three episodes on livestream for the first time so. You know. I'm hyped on the energy of this being my last day not enveloped in tears. Take the summary:
Before the episode starts, someone asks why Crowley said in the last episode that Aziraphale couldn't fall because look at him, all angelic when Crowley looked the same as starmaker. I reply that "Crowley thinks he deserved it, he sees Azi as something beautiful and untouched while he probably sees himself as idk marked in some way so god kicked him down."
I am told that I am learning too fast to weaponise the narrative to induce angst. So then I say oh, I go too fast for you. Tears ensue.
The episode begins! Everyone shrieks about Edinburgh, David Tennant, how it is their favourite episode, and SCOTTISH CROWLEY.
We open with lesbians being gay, and then Muriel enters as Inspector Constable! They are very sweet and very determined to do their job right, and they are adopted by Crowley and Aziraphale just like Jim.
Crowley sits on Aziraphale's chair's arm. The maggots all swoon.
Fine, I also swooned.
Aziraphale gaslight-gatekeep-girlboss-mansplain-manipulate-manwhores his way into getting Crowley to give him the Bentley keys (BOUNDARIES. BOUNDARIES.).
WHAT PLENTY OF USE DO BOTH OF YOU GET OUT OF THE BOOKSHOP?
The really ineffable plan is whatever the fuck was happening in Aziraphale's brain when he somehow went from London to Edinburgh via Loch Ness (check the map) and then proceeded to disguise himself as a detective who pretends to be a journalist.
Crowley slays in sleeve garters and a cardigan keeping house in the bookshop meanwhile, does not sell books, instead cleans with Jimbriel and periodically yeets book stacks into corners when distracted.
Aziraphale reads his old diary entries about Crowley, a (6000+) 13 year old with a crush.
MINISODE MINISODE. They are in Edinburgh during the mid 1800s. Victorian outfits, check. Scottish Crowley, check. Capitalist Karen Aziraphale, che-wait what.
Huh. Well. There's a wee bit of body snatchin' going on, to sell to doctors for medical research because there aren't enough murderers, and to make enough money to survive.
Aziraphale channels his inner capitalist judgemental Karen and ruins that plan, come on Aziraphale you have religious trauma but you're better than this, and long story short, Wee Morag dies after Aziraphale realises his error, her friend Elspeth has to sell her corpse for pennies, and is about to commit suicide with laudanum. Azi, oh god. I'm glad you underwent character development at least.
NOW CROWLEY HERE SLAYS. I KNOW THIS IS AZIRAPHALE'S PERSPECTIVE AND IS BIASED. BUT WITH THIS POV, CROWLEY SLAYS.
He calmly educates Aziraphale about how his whole "the poor have more opportunities and you shouldn't give them money or they'll lose the virtue of poverty" is absolute bullshit, and he does this understanding Aziraphale's situation and not losing his temper.
The framing. The framing of the shot when they see Wee Morag and Elspeth sitting down on a step and explaining their situation. Aziraphale stands above, bustling with righteousness, and judges them. Crowley sits down. He sits down next to them, rather than taking the high ground. He meets them where they are and empathises. It is the fact that he is fallen and damned that makes him behave really divine and sorry I wrote a whole hymn on him have it I'll stop rambling just know I love him.
I think his amusement is a facade so hell won't think he's genuinely being good. I think he's morally grey and incredibly brave and kind.
When Elspeth is bouta kill herself with the laudanum, Crowley grabs it and drinks it himself, and grows tiny and then huge, absolutely high off his head. David Tennant takes the opportunity to travel Scotland from east to west in terms of accent variety.
He gives us the good message of NO DYIN'. NO MORE DYIN'. IT'S NOT ON. And then forces Aziraphale (who doesn't want to ruin her virtuous poverty) to give the girl all the guineas he has in his pocket, and tells her to go off and start a farm or something. BUT NOT JUST PRETENDY GOOD, BE PROPERLY GOOD.
He then gets pulled into hell. To be punished for this. Aziraphale is frightened and heartbroken for him, looking around desperately, and we find out that Crowley didn't meet him for a while after. And later he wanted holy water. To protect himself? He got punished by hell. For how long? The whole month in between the incident and the diary entry? There can't be anyone better at punishment and cruelty than hell.
Sorry I'm just screaming here.
Never mind fuck I started this summary really happy and bouncy and listening to a dance playlist. Dionysus by BTS and Italian pop is still playing and now I'm crying.
Is this the natural progression. Fuck I'm crying. Sorry guys something else happens with Aziraphale politely talking to a phone and Crowley smiling really beautifully while unsuccessfully trying to manipulate two lesbians into a relationship and something about a visit I don't care everyone's being morally dubious as usual and then lovely Scottish music outro I CAN'T FUCKING ELABORATE I'M SITTING HERE CRYING OVER CROWLEY.
right summary done, time to go sob, lmao i thought i wouldn't cry today over good omens HAHAHAHA still not traumatic eh HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
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natashaismylove · 1 year
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Hello<3
As a fic request, I was thinking maybe g!p dom!Wanda is a camgirl, and sub!reader has been acting bratty all day so Wanda decides to punish reader on a livestream?
Maybe some breeding kink, Wanda making reader suck her off and stuff with some mommy kink?
In front of the camera |W. Maximoff
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Summary: Wanda decides to have you on her live stream after you’d had an attitude towards her all day.
Pairing: G!p Dom!Camgirl!Wanda x Sub!AFAB!Reader
Warnings: Smut, NSFW live streaming, Unprotected sex, Vaginal sex, Fingering, Breeding kink, Squirting, Humiliation kink, Exhibitionism, Degradation, Orgasm denial, Begging, Vibrators, Praise, Mommy kink, Hair pulling, Face fucking, Oral (Wanda receiving), Bondage, Overstimulation. 18+ Minors DNI
Word count: 1.8K
A/n: I tried to keep the readers pronouns gender neutral, but some of the petnames and stuff are more feminine.
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Wanda adjusted the camera so that only she would be in the frame before smiling. “Hey guys, today I have a special little something for you all…” she trailed off before moving the camera to the side, revealing that you were lying on the bed next to her. 
“My baby has been a bad girl today.” she made a fake pout at the camera. “So they need to be put in their place.” 
She stepped away, getting onto the bed before reaching for a pair of handcuffs lying next to you. “Someone needs a little punishment,” she said before grabbing your hands, handcuffing them to the headboard above you which caused you to wince.
“Too tight?” she asked, earning a nod from you. “Good.”
She looked back at the camera. “I need to make sure my little darling here knows who’s in charge.”
She got on top of you, positioning herself to sit on your chest. “Baby decided to talk back to me all day so let's see if we can put that mouth of theirs to some actual good use.” 
She grabbed your face with one hand, dragging your bottom lip down with her thumb. She wrapped her other hand around her dick, giving it a few strokes before she placed the tip against your lips. “Open up.”
You did as you were told, opening up your mouth enough for her to slide herself in. You gagged as she hit the back of your throat, but she didn't budge.
“What? Is something stopping you from talking?” she asked mockingly. “Hm, how odd.”
She pulled back a little before inserting herself deeper into your throat. She let out a groan as she found a rhythm, slowly dragging her cock against your tongue. “See how quickly we got rid of that bratty attitude of yours? This is how good girls act, always ready to make their mommy feel good.”
She placed her hands on your cheeks before moving them to hold onto the back of your head. She sped up her thrusts, starting to fuck your throat. “Such a nice and warm little mouth you’ve got baby, so perfect to fuck.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as spit dripped down your chin. Your throat hurt at the constant intrusion of Wanda’s cock, her grip on your hair had your scalp stinging. She moaned as she fucked your face as quickly as she could, seeming desperate to get herself off by using you.
“Look how pretty you are like this,” she said breathlessly, moving one of her hands to cup your cheek to wipe your tears away with her thumb. “God, I love ruining you. I love seeing your pretty makeup all smudged and running down your cheeks.”
Her head fell back as she began to lose her pace, just desperately forcing herself into your mouth. “Fuck, you gonna swallow? You gonna swallow all the cum mommy gives you?”
You could only moan in reply as you were prohibited from replying verbally. She gripped your hair harshly, hitting the back of your throat a few more times before stopping, spilling herself into your mouth.
She stayed still for a minute before pulling out of your mouth, chuckling as you gasped for air. “There you go, breath baby.”
She placed her thumb on your cheek, wiping some of her cum that was running down your lips before pushing her thumb into your mouth. “I don’t want to see you let a single drop go to waste.”
She got off of your chest, reaching for something on the bedside table before moving down to settle in between your legs. She ran her middle and ring finger through your folds, collecting some of your wetness and rubbing it onto your clit. “God, you’re so wet. You got off on me using your mouth, huh?”
You stayed quiet, looking away to focus on a wall to hide your embarrassment.
“Answer me.”
You bit down on your bottom lip, holding back a moan. “Yes…”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Mommy…”
She leaned down, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “Good girl.”
She picked up the object she had grabbed earlier. You tried to look down once you felt something against your clit, but the restraints kept you from seeing. You looked up at the ceiling, waiting for something to happen.
“What do you think you deserve after today?” she asked.
You, looked down at her, shrugging your shoulders the best you could.
Wanda looked at the camera. “What do you guys think, should baby be punished or rewarded for being a brat?”
She looked at her computer screen next to the camera, watching as a bunch of replies flooded the chat. “Punished, huh? Well, I agree…”
She pressed the vibrator she had picked up back against your clit. “You don’t cum unless I tell you to, got it?”
You nodded. “Yes, Mommy.”
She turned the device on to the highest setting. The vibration was almost painful against your clit, but at the same time it felt so good now that you were finally getting some much-needed attention on your pussy. Your body twitched as she kept it directly on your clit, not allowing you a moment of relief from the harsh vibration.
“Do you like that, baby? Is your pussy finally feeling good?” she rubbed your thigh with her thumb.
You nodded rapidly. “So good, feel so good!”
“Look at me, my darling.” she squeezed your thigh until you looked up at her. “That’s it, keep your eyes on me.”
You bit down hard on your lip. You would probably draw blood if you bit any harder. You pulled a little against the restraints as your back arched, your body feeling the need to come already.
“Please!” you begged.
“Please what?” she asked. You whined at the fact that you had to explain. You knew very well that she knew what you were talking about.
“Please let me come!”
She hummed. “Do you think you deserve to come?”
“Yes, please Mommy, I want It so badly!”
You cried as she turned off the vibrator, your body still convulsing as you were so damn close.
She moved up, grabbing your face in a harsh grip. “Oh baby, I thought you had finally learned your lesson, but you’re still acting like a spoiled little brat. You really think you deserve any reward after today?” she asked angrily.
You pouted with a whine before letting out a meek little “no…”
“That’s right. You don’t deserve to come. All you deserve is to be used like a little toy for Mommy.” she said as she lined her dick up with your hole. “You gonna be a good little fucktoy for me now?”
You nodded as tears ran down your cheeks. “Yes.”
She entered you in one swift stroke, burying herself as deep as she could inside of you. “Fuck…” she groaned.
You whimpered. “It’s too big.”
“You can take it,” she grunted as she began to thrust into you. “Let’s see if we can fuck the bratty attitude out of you, shall we?”
You kept your mouth shut and tried your best to stay silent and hold back any moans.
“Nuh uh, no staying quiet, princess. Let our audience hear you,” she smirked.
Her thrusts rocked your entire body and you could feel the handcuffs digging into your wrists. She gripped your thighs, her nails nearly piercing your skin. 
“Are you a little whore for Mommy?” she asked with a mocking tone.
“Yes…”
She thrusted harder. “Say it.”
“I’m a little whore for Mommy.” you said quietly, pleasurable humiliation filled you at the thought of people watching you be degraded and fucked like this.
“Louder. Let me hear you,” she ordered.
“I’m a little whore for Mommy!” you cried out.
“That’s more like it,” she said, finally satisfied. “Is someone getting close?”
“Yes, so close! So close, Mommy, please let me come! I’ll be so good for you, I promise!” you begged.
She hummed. “No more brat?”
You shook your head. “No more, I swear! I won’t be bratty!”
“There we go, finally a nice little submissive princess.” she grinned before lifting your hips a little higher up and looking at the camera. “Let's see just how hard we can make the little princess cum, huh?”
She grabbed the vibrator, turning it on before placing it onto your clit once more. She continued to hit that one euphoric spot inside of you over and over again as she knew your body perfectly, inside and out.
“You think we can make them squirt?” she chuckled to the camera. “Wouldn’t that be so hot, seeing my baby come all over me?”
“Oh fuck!” you moaned, tugging against the handcuffs.
“Come on, baby, let go for me, I know how badly you want to.” 
Your back was arched and your head fell back as she thrusted faster into you. “Fuck, I’m gonna-” You let out a high-pitched sound as you came, covering Wanda’s lower stomach and thighs in your wetness.
“There we go, just like that.” she cooed but didn't slow down. She kept thrusting into you through your orgasm and only increased her pace after you’d come down from your high. 
“I’m gonna fill that pretty pussy of yours with my cum.” she moaned as she slightly lost her rhythm. “I’m gonna breed you so well, princess. Fuck, I’ll fill you up until you’re leaking.”
The overstimulating was getting to you, and your entire body felt on fire. She kept relentlessly bucking her hips into you, chasing her own orgasm. You finally felt your body relax after she stilled and came inside of you.
She took a minute to breathe before pulling out, watching as her cum trickled down your pussy. She collected it with her fingers before pushing it back into you, making sure you got every last drop of it in you.
“Fuck…” she groaned quietly as she listened to the sloppy sounds it made as she fucked her cum back into you with her fingers.
She got up once she was satisfied with her work and walked over to her computer. “Thank you guys so much for being such a great audience, and thank you for all your donations.” she blew a kiss to the camera. “We’ll be back another day.”
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Taglist: @carnagewidow @sayah13 @aflopmop @abeillesurlalunerose @thenazwife @shayzulia @jadechasesworld @elenaguarnieri @mrsromanovaa @therealwanda @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @meshuganna @luccyland @alwaysgoodnight @olsensnpm @sheneonromanoff @mrromanoff @lesbean-slut @alwaysharmony @peggycarter-steverogers @wizardofstories @i-loveyoubutyourenotmine @the-night-owl-blr @riveramorylunar @wandaspropertyonly @inluvwithfictionalwomen @arabellaolsen @lovelyy-moonlight @wandsmxmff @nclgsticore @madelinelcl @justemiris @natashamaximoff69 @kwisjnfjke
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azzibuckets · 11 days
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now that we don’t talk [paige bueckers]
paige bueckers x fem!reader
summary: you and paige break up and neither of you know how to move on properly with your life
a/n: decided to go for some angst again…didn’t really have an aim or a direction when writing this so not sure if i should turn this into a series or not ? lmk what yall think
word count: 1.5k
masterlist
The First Week
In the first week, Paige had fallen into her daily routine. Her moments of forgetfulness were instinctual; she’d laid a dollop of minty Crest toothpaste on her blue toothbrush before doing the same thing to your red one, leaving it hanging over the edge of the counter.
The first time she did it, she’d hadn’t even noticed. It was only when she’d turned her mouth to catch the water under the faucet that she’d spotted your toothbrush that she’d set up, ready with Crest, as if you’d pop in any moment to stick it in your mouth and start scrubbing. Paige had almost choked on the water she’d been gurgling, grief worming its way up her throat and making it hard to breathe.
Heaving, she’d stood over the sink, hand gripping both sides of the counter to support herself until her knuckles turned white. It took all her strength not to buckle over from the precipitous wave of agony that had collided into her with gut-wrenching speed.
But for some reason, Paige had stuck your toothbrush under the stream of water then placed it carefully back in its cup. And so she’d made the same mistake the day after. This time, when she realized what she’d done, it wasn’t the weight of sadness that compressed her lungs, but a brewing storm of fury. Her vision had gone red, and she’d grabbed the toothbrush and hurled it against the wall as hard as she could, with a strength that she didn’t even know that she’d still had. And this time, when Paige stared at the toothpaste dripping slowly down the wall, mocking her as it made a mess on the floor, the counter couldn’t save her. She’d succumbed to the force of her fury dragging her down, and had crumpled to the floor, sobs racking her body.
The First Month
Your room was dark, in almost sub-freezing temperatures with the windows wide open to welcome in the frosty, bone-chilling winter air that Connecticut was known for. The only light in the room came from the dim glow of your laptop screen, opened live to the UConn women’s basketball game playing live on ESPN.
At first, you’d attempted to be nonchalant whenever Paige sunk yet another basket with ease, making the crowd and commentators going feral as she celebrated with her signature moves. But as the game between UConn and USC got closer and closer, you couldn’t help but smile when Paige crossed over her defense, sending them flying to the floor and leaving her wide open to score yet another 3. It reminded you all too well of the Paige you’d met and fallen in love with, whose confidence on the court had made you start viewing her as more than just your teammate.
But any trace of smile on your face quickly vanished once you watched Paige’s post-game interview during the livestream. “You’ve had quite a run this season despite being out for most of your sophomore and junior year due to injury. Who would you like to thank for your unpredented comeback?”
“I’d like to thank God. He’s been with me through everything, given me trials to test my resilience. In fact, he’s made me stronger than ever.” Paige had paused. You’d recognized her hesitance; the way she nibbled her bottom lip, her mouth half open as she debated a response, the uncertainty in her eyes as they flickered. But she seemed to recover from any reluctance, and what she said next made your heart drop. “I’d also like to thank my girlfriend, Leslie.” She motioned to someone off camera, and soon the frame was filled with tousled brown hair and soft green eyes.
Paige pulled her in close, and your world spun as you watched Paige, your Paige, press her lips against the brunette. Your hands had reached up to tear your headphones off your head, unable to further listen to the claps and hoots of the crowd along with the cooing of the commentators without feeling the need to throw up. But before you could, Paige had started speaking again. Your hands froze. You hated yourself for it, but you had to listen.
“She’s been with me through everything, from freshman year to now. She was my number one supporter when I got injured.” She wrapped her arm around Leslie’s waist, staring intently at the camera, and never before had you been this sickened staring at the blue eyes you’d once adored, could’ve spent hours getting lost in. “But even outside of my injury, Les has been on my side. Especially with all the immature drama that happened on the court last year, she was really a clear voice in all of that. So I’m pretty grateful for her.”
Leslie’s mouth split into a grin, and she turned to pull Paige in for another kiss, and that was when you slammed your laptop so hard that when you opened it the next morning, you were surprised to see that the screen hadn’t shattered.
You were not someone who cried. Your family members, your friends, Paige could all attest to that. But the torment that was clawing its way through your body, threatening to suffocate you, finally exploded. Tears had surged from your eyes, seemingly never ending, and you’d cried so much that night that it suddenly made sense why you’d almost never cried before; it was like all the tears in your life had been pent up, waiting for this moment, for when the pin fell.
That night was the lowest you’d ever felt in your life, and possibly even the lowest you’ve ever acted - blinded by a jealous rage over the girl that Paige had always promised you not to worry about, the girl Paige was basically making out with on live television just one month after you guys had broken up (and when it’d taken her two years to show PDA with you), you’d gone on all your social media accounts and blocked Paige on every single one of them.
Then an idea came to you. An act of retaliation that would hurt Paige as much as she hurt you. So you’d reopened Twitter, unblocked Paige. You’d scrolled until you found the perfect tweet. Your thumb had hovered for a split second over the like button, haunted by images of Paige’s hand trailing your stomach, her hair brushing your eyes, her mouth on your neck, before it was violently replaced by the image of Paige locking lips with the brunette flooding your mind, causing you to jam your thumb down with ferocity on the like button. You’d slammed the final nail in the coffin by deleting the app so that you couldn’t go back and undo your action before word got around to Paige.
The First Year
You thought you knew grief. You thought you’d familiarized yourself with every aspect of mourning: the realization in the morning, when your eyes open and you lose the blissful state of dreaming and you’re confronted with the harsh truths of the world. Or the late nights, when you’re restless and can’t sleep because of jealousy plaguing your mind. Even the deep longing of missing someone’s touch so bad that you swear that you can almost almost smell their perfume.
So you thought you knew grief - until your grandma died. It had been a matter of time. She’d had breast cancer, and for years now the doctors had been saying any time. But that still didn’t prepare you for the overwhelming pain that consumed all your senses, making it hard to think or eat or sleep or even breathe.
The first few nights after you received the news, you stared at the ceiling, unblinking until the early hours of the morning when the sun started creeping up through your windows. But you couldn’t even cry; you felt like a broken faucet. What the fuck was wrong with you? Sobbing over your stupid ex that you’d broken up with an entire year ago, but unable to shed a tear for your grandma, the woman who had single-handedly raised you. You were exhausted to the point of no return. When would everything stop hurting?
You’d only torn your eyes from your ceiling when your phone had lit up. It was 4 AM, and you wondered who it could be. You checked your phone, and every part of your body froze when you read the notifications.
TWITTER
From: paigebueckers1
I’m so sorry
TWITTER
From: paigebueckers1
I just heard the news
TWITTER
From: paigebueckers1
Don’t know if you’re even active on here anymore but it’s the only way I could reach you. If you see this, I just want to ask you to not keep your grief to yourself. Isolating yourself won’t make the pain go away. Make sure to talk to someone
Your heart had ached, your phone trembling in your hand. Because Paige had cared enough to send you a message, on the same app where you’d given the tabloids a wet dream and caused the UConn fandom to go into a spiral by liking a hate tweet about Paige. She’d cared enough to disregard all that to make sure you were okay. But she still hadn’t cared enough to offer to be that someone that she wanted you to talk to so bad.
So you’d left her on read, without responding. Had slipped back into your sheets, your head pounding and your lungs aching. This time the tears fell out easily.
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fxrmuladaydreams · 6 months
Text
his video (sv5)
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pornstar!seb x camgirl/pornstar!reader
summary: sebastian wants to try something new for his channel, maybe something a little softer than his usual content?
notes: okay after finishing this i wouldn’t call it “soft” but more tame for pornstar!seb
warnings: !! INCLUDES SMUT, MINORS DNI !! oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, slight size kink
prev part next part
Begging To Cum feat. Sebastian Vettel
Your video had made the home page and stayed there for about a week now. Money flooded into your virtual tip jar, along with comments praising your video. It seems your audience really enjoyed watching you and Sebastian. Even in the livestreams afterwards comments flooded in asking if Sebastian was going to be joining you.
You enjoyed having him with you. A part of you had always been afraid of filming with another person, but you were glad you bit the bullet and did it with Sebastian.
You kept in contact with him for days after filming, updating each other on how well the video had done.
It should have worried you, the little jump you felt in your heart when you saw a text from Sebastian. You were becoming close, messaging each other every day, sharing the occasional phone call in the evening. Your conversations slowly started to turn from updates about your video to more personal things, updates on each other’s day to day lives. You were becoming far too close to someone who you could call a coworker.
You made plans to meet with him in person again, this time to film a video for him. He asked if you wanted to use your room again, wanting to make sure you were still comfortable with him, but you agreed to use his studio. It would be interesting to see where he films all of his other videos.
When you asked if you should bring anything with you, he just grinned and shook his head. “Just your beauty schatz.” You couldn’t see him since you were talking over the phone, but you could practically hear the smile on his face.
You opt for another dress, this time a soft white sundress, giving you the perfect innocent look you knew his viewers would eat up.
Sebastian had insisted on picking you up and driving you to his studio himself. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but a part of him was just desperate to see you in person again as soon as he could.
He offered you a bottle of water and let you pick the music as he drove. You made conversation with him on the way there, while he let his eyes drift back and forth between you and the road ahead.
He parked the car in front of a large beige building. There weren’t really any other businesses around, mostly just a few houses scattered down the road.
Sebastian was quick to hop out of the car and dash over to your side to open the door for you.
“Thank you. You didn’t bring me here just to murder me, did you Seb?” You ask teasingly as you glance at the woods behind the building.
“No schatz, I would never!” He huffs, placing a hand over his chest with a look of fake-hurt on his face.
He grabs his bag from the backseat of the car as well as a backpack, and leads you inside the building. A couple seems to be exiting one of the rooms, the man grins as he spots Sebastian.
“Got the room all nice and warmed up for you.” He says as he gives Sebastian that half hug-handshake that guys do.
You recognize the man almost immediately. Daniel Ricciardo, another very popular, though not quite as popular as Sebastian, pornstar. You’d seen quite a few videos of his. He had a style similar to Sebastian, definitely the dom type. But now you could see that he seemed like an all-smiles person. Maybe it was a high from a good shoot?
The girl with him just stands by, a dazed smile on her face. Sebastian takes a glance at her then back at Daniel.
“Yeah, I can see that.” He laughs.
Daniel looks over at you and smiles holding his hand out for you to shake. “Hi, I’m Daniel, big fan of your videos.” He winks.
You feel your face heat up under the gaze of the dark haired man in front of you. “Thank you.”
“If you ever want another filming partner, let me know.” He says as he steers the girl he’s with outside.
Sebastian feels himself tense up. He can feel the jealousy slowly building up inside of him. You have the right to film with whoever you want, he knows that, but he doesn’t like the thought of sharing.
“C’mon, I’ll show you where we’ll be filming.” He says, his voice slightly gruff.
He guides you down a hall, past a room you recognize from a lot of Sebastian’s other videos, and Daniel’s as well. It’s just a simple room with a couch on one wall, nothing more.
Instead he leads you to a different room. This one is fully furnished, decorated with a bed, a dresser, a closet, even posters and frames on the walls. It looks like a real bedroom.
“I was thinking maybe we could do something a little different for my video too. Maybe something kind of soft?” He asks.
You smile and nod. “Yeah, that sounds fun.”
“And don’t worry, I won’t kiss you.” He smirks. “I wouldn’t want you to fall in love with me or anything.”
You laugh and shake your head.
“Why do you have that rule?” He asks. When he gets a few seconds of silence in return he adds “You don’t have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable.”
You sigh. “I don’t know. You’re the only person I’ve actually filmed with, you know that.”
Sebastian feels pride swell up in his chest.
“Kissing against someone’s skin if fine, it’s just… actual kissing just seems… too intimate? I’m already giving you and my viewers so much, I think I want that one thing for just me…”
Sebastian nods. “That makes sense. You want to save some part of yourself from everyone else.”
He sets his bag up by the door again after he pushes it closed and locks it. He pulls his camera out of his backpack along with the tripod for it to rest on.
You sit yourself down on the bed and run your hand over the blanket that lays over it.
“You look like a dream schatz.” He says as he finishes setting up. “Are you ready?”
He presses the record button only when you give him the okay, then saunters over to the bed and sits next to you. He slowly leans his head down, his nose brushing softly against yours.
“No kissing.” You remind him quietly as you try not to let yourself drown in the blue of his eyes.
“No kissing.” He confirms, then drops his head down to your neck.
His lips trail softly against your skin as his hands find their way to your hips. He leans forward as you lean back, laying down with him on top of you as he softly bites at your skin.
You open your legs for him to rest between them and tangle a hand in his soft blonde hair.
He feels a soft tug when he bites down near your collarbone. He smirks to himself, sucking on the skin again, then smoothing his tongue over it.
He rolls his hips against yours, pushing your sundress further up your waist. The rough denim of his jeans feels good through your panties as you lift your hips up to meet his.
He tugs at the bottom of your dress, brushing his hands against your thighs. You lift yourself up enough to pull the dress off and toss it to the side.
Sebastian pulls away just enough to get a good look at you and the white lace set you’ve worn, then sighs. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you bunny?”
“Do you like it?” You ask him.
“I love it.” He dives his head back down to continue kissing along your collarbone, along as much of the newly revealed skin he can.
His hand travels back behind you and swiftly unclasps your bra. He pulls it off your shoulders and tosses it away.
His lips trail down between the valley of your breasts as his hands give them a soft squeeze. He gets lower and lower until he’s reached the waistband of your panties. He looks up at you, his blue eyes wide, asking you a silent question.
You nod your head, wanting nothing more than for him to rid you of your underwear.
He pulls them down with his teeth until they hang around your ankles. You kick them off and watch the man between your legs in anticipation.
He spreads your legs open and lets out a low groan. “You’re so pretty, bunny.” He says, his eyes locked on your cunt.
He lifts your legs over his shoulders and slowly licks a long stripe over your folds until his tongue flicks against your clit.
You gasp at the sensation, squirming when he sucks it into his mouth. He holds onto your thighs with a firm grip, keeping you still so he can take what he wants. Even now, as he’s pleasuring you, he still needs to be the one in control.
“C’mon bunny, let me hear those pretty noises you like to make.” He says, his lips brushing against your folds.
You lay back as he eats you out, tangling your hands in his blonde curls. You arch your back off the bed as his tongue fucks into you.
He moans into you as he feels you try to squirm in his hold. He leans his face as close as he can into you, his nose pushing against your clit as he thrusts his tongue in you.
“Oh god, I’m gonna cum, please may I cum sir?” Your grip on his hair tightens.
“Cum for me.”
You let your orgasm wash over you. Sebastian continues licking you though, taking as much of your release as you’ll give him.
“You taste delicious bunny.” He says as he moves your legs from his shoulders.
He kisses back up your body until he’s eye to eye with you again.
The denim of his jeans was once a welcome feeling between your legs, but now the material makes you shift away in slight discomfort, the material too rough over your sensitive folds.
“Do you think you can be a good little bunny and ride me?” He asks as his fingers reach back down to toy with your clit.
You nod up at him. “I can do it.”
He rolls over, pulling your body on top of his.
You can’t help but think to yourself just how this looks right now, you completely bare, straddling him, completely clothed. You tug his shirt off and take a good look at him. He’s never really shown much skin in his other videos, so you’re a little surprised to see the lines of his torso now on display. The muscles in his chest and abs shift as he moves.
“Like what you see?” He smirks up at you.
You flush at his words and move your hands down to unbuckle his belt and tug his jeans down his legs. His boxers are quick to follow. His cock slaps his abdomen as it’s released. It’s big, not that you hadn’t already pictured Sebastian was packing. It’s good length, and thick as well. The mushroom tip is a pink color, a bead of precum spilling out the top.
You wrap your hand around it, stroking it up and down, you thumb tracing along the slit at the head.
“You think it’ll fit?” He asks as your fingers only just barely touch while wrapped around him.
You can see just how deep it’ll be when inside you as you stroke it, it’ll practically be rearranging your insides.
You lift yourself up and run the head along your folds, collecting your slick. You slowly lower yourself down onto him, taking about half of him before you need to stop. You whimper as you try to get used to the feeling, the stretch that he gives you.
“Aww, am I too big for you bunny?” Sebastian coos, his hand running along your thigh.
You feel yourself squeeze around him impossibly tighter, rocking yourself back and forth on him.
“You can’t do it, can you bunny?” He asks with a fake pout on his face.
“No, no, no, I can do it, I can do it.” You insist. You start to let yourself drop further down until you’re speared on his cock. You can feel the head impossibly deep inside you, his girth pulling you apart unlike anything before.
“I did it, it fits.” You moan as you begin to rock yourself against him.
Sebastian tries not to let himself fall apart too fast. He tries to remember that he’s on camera, that to his audience he’s meant to be the one in control, but he feels that control slipping away as he looks up at you. You’re eyes are squeezed shut as you try to ride him, your hands are pushed against his chest in an attempt to keep yourself balanced. You throw your head back and let out a moan when he hits a certain spot inside you, and he think’s it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.
He closes his eyes and pushes himself to sit up, moving your hands to his shoulders. He needs to regain some of his control, and he knows just how to do it.
“C’mon, be a good little bunny and bounce on my cock.” He says, giving you a light tap on the ass.
You grip onto his shoulders as you lift yourself up, then drop back down. You slowly build up your pace until you’re a mess on top of him, your tits bouncing with your movements and your words no longer coherent as they turn into garbled moans.
Your legs are shakey underneath you, your strength fading as you chase your impending orgasm. Sebastian can feel your pace start to slow down. He lands a harsh smack to your ass, causing you to yelp.
“Can’t do it by yourself bunny? You need my help to make you cum?” He asks.
“Please, please, please make me cum.” You beg him.
He starts thrusting himself up into you, reaching even deeper. Each of his sharp thrusts are met with a quick whine from you.
He uses his right hand to play with your clit, rubbing quick circles into it, pulling you even closer to the edge.
“I’m gonna cum.” You moan.
“Cum for me bunny, cum on my cock.” Sebastian groans under you.
Your walls tighten around him as he feels you cum. Your body gives out, falling almost limp against his own. He flips you over and fucks into you. He feels himself near his own release as he pulls out from you and fists himself. His head drops down to your shoulder as his warm cum covers your stomach in white spurts.
He holds himself up on his elbows so he doesn’t crush you underneath him. He pulls away to rest on his knees and looks down at his work.
You’ve got a blissed out smile on your face and a hazy look in your eyes. You reach down to your stomach and swipe a finger through his cum bringing it to your lips. You moan at the taste of him while he smiles and shakes his head.
“You really are trying to kill me schatz.”
The term of endearment brings you back to the present, as does his warmth leaving you so he can turn his camera off. He pulls a soft towel from his bag, wiping his release off you, and yours from between your legs.
“So, did I do good?” You ask, reaching down for his shirt to pull over your head.
“You were amazing.” He smiles, pulling his boxers back on.
He hands you a bottle of water, uncapped by him, and a snack. He grabs the same, and sits next to you on the bed.
He realizes quickly that he could get used to this sight. You in your post-sex glow, wearing his clothes. A light purple mark brandished on your neck from his teeth. He reaches over and brushes his fingers over it.
“Sorry about that.” He apologies sheepishly.
You shake your head and laugh softly. “It’s okay. Have you seen your shoulders?”
He looks down to see the pink scratch marks that trail over his shoulders, some going down to his chest. He smiles to himself, maybe he doesn’t mind being marked up, as long as they’re marks from you.
A nice silence falls over the room as you continue to eat your snack. Your head falls softly against Sebastian’s shoulder as your eyes start to droop closed. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. He wraps one of the blankets around the two of you, cocooning you together.
“Can we stay for a little bit?” You ask him quietly, nuzzling yourself further into him.
“We can stay for as long as you’d like schatz.”
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brilium · 8 months
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❥ K I N K T O B E R 2 0 2 3
Masterlist
➽──────────❥
❥ DAY 3. Camgirl! with Eren Jaeger
Summary. Eren got you a tulip necklace on your birthday, one that you never take off, not even during your livestreams on a secret site at night. And Eren could recognize that necklace anywhere.
Content Warning. Fem! reader, no use of y/n, all characters are adults, smut, use of a toy, overstimulation, maturbation (both receiving).
Word count. 3,056.
MINORS OR AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT !!
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Seeing how you get so excited by receiving something so small and simple as a necklace with the shape of a tulip makes Eren's heart throb uncontrollably from excitement.
He created all the design from zero, keeping in mind one time where you told him that your favorite flower was the tulips. Every minute of designing it and working long shifts to pay it totally worth it when you jumped on his arms giggling about how grateful you were to have a bestfriend like him.
Even though he had some girlfriends in the past, his big crush on you never disappeared completely.
Small touches and risky jokes about how it would be if you both would start dating were the farthest that he achieved to make you blush and think a little of the idea of dating him.
This was making him go crazy, but he enjoyed those moments when you kept hugging him longer and tighter than usually.
Some weeks later after giving you that gift —and loving the fact that you never take it off— he came home early from Uni tired from his assignments. All that he wanted was just to find something to distract himself a little and forget about all his final projects piling up on his desk.
Looking at the clock it was still too soon before Armin came home from work, and the games on his console were updating.
Since he was alone, stressed and single, he opened a tab with a particular logotype that he usually only opens late at night. He reminds himself that it will be quick and just to relax a little before starting working on his lab reports. 
Anyways— the neckline that you chose to wear today combined with the necklace were calling for his eyes all day, almost feeling like you noticed the way his eyes darted down in the middle of your conversations.
While fighting with his inner thoughts, he starts to scroll down with a blush on his face.
There were the usual miniatures of the typical plots, maybe it was on his saturated brain but any of those titles or previews were particularly calling for his attention. 
When he clicked back to the top of the page, the option of "Livestream" awakened an interest in him. 
He didn't usually watch those thanks to being used to watching this kind of stuff at night since his schedule and Armin's were almost the same, which led to not having too much time alone at home.
But today things were a little bit in his favor, so he clicked on it. 
There was a top ones where you could only access if you paid a fortune for it, so he scrolled more to find the ones of the "Rising stars", one of them was called "TulipGarden" which made him smile at the sudden thought of you coming to his mind.
When he checked the profile, there was only a cutted photo of a girl in a red bra. The photo only showed her smile and her breasts, which gave him a small hint that the girl was cute, so he clicked it and paid a considerably smaller amount to enter.
Eren throws his head back sighing while the charging screen loads the stream, it's the first time he does this and it feels a little weird. Connie once confessed that he spent like 200 dollars on a cam girl he used to follow. He's not the kind of guy who crushes instantly on a hot girl like his friend, so this might be a one time thing.
"Oh! Welcome to the stream, KrugerSoldier!"
The sound of that familiar soft voice drives a cold shiver through his spine, causing him to straighten on his seat and look immediately at the screen in a way that makes his head go dizzy for some seconds.
There you are. Well, a part of you, since half of your face is covered with a white burlesque mask. But he could recognize that voice anywhere, just like that hair, those lips, that skin, and specially: that necklace.
Eren has to bite his lower lip when his eyes can't get off from how that necklace swings between the curve of your clothed breasts with a white lingerie while you lean over to the screen to read the comments. Letting all the viewers see how good your tits hang almost exposed.
Thankfully, he chose as nickname the last name of a friend of the family who used to take care of him when he was a child, so you don't know yet that it's your best friend. 
Sorry, Sir Kruger, hope anyone who knows you finds about this username.
"Okay, since there are some new guests on my stream I'll repeat the donation goals!" Since you were seated again on the chair, Eren's attention got back again to your masked face. "Listen carefully! I won't repeat it, okay?"
Eren nods completely stunned even if you can’t see him. At this point he doesn't even care if Armin comes and opens the door to find him in such a compromising situation.
“Well, as you know, through the donations you can control my… toy” Your face gets blushed, even if your cheeks are half covered, the viewers can notice the cute blush growing on them. They love to see your shy reactions previous to the show of how the lust gets all over you, causing the notifications to start blowing a little and make you bite your lip as you close your eyes, throwing your head back. “Yeah… Just like that”
The donations are just like one or five dollars, so the vibrations aren’t intense, but enough to have you already squirming on your seat struggling to keep talking, you can only whine and thank them for the donations with a broken voice. 
Oh.
So she's into that.
Eren’s reaction is not far from yours with his head thrown back like yours, his hand is already squeezing softly his hard cock above his gray sweatpants and the soaked spot on his boxers might betray him soon. 
Your voice is coming out stained, trying to keep talking through the stimulation of the small pink toy vibrating inside your core as the notifications keep coming.
“G-God! Fuck…” The notifications stopped a little, but the insane wave of them interrupted your words by leaving you breathing hard as you try to recompose and hols the border of your desk to look again at the screen. “Y-You missed me a lot, as I see. Well, as I was saying–”
Kruger Soldier has donated 30 dollars!
A louder “Ding!” resonates on the stream along with the high pitched moan coming out from your mouth as the strong vibrations invade you for some seconds.
You squirm on the gaming chair like you’re trying to escape from the small toy buzzing inside you, covering your mouth and trembling as the site blows a banner saying “Congratulations! Second goal achieved: Getting off from the underwear!”
Even if Eren’s aching cock is already being tortured by his hand stroking it harshly up and down, he’s surprised about how hard the vibrations were sent due to his high donation.
Truth has to be said, he planned to just donate 20 but his finger slipped while he was freeing his erection from his pants. 
But he’s not complaining when he sees you sliding down the braces of your bra with a lustful smile, biting your lip while your body is still trembling.
“I see that the new one is a little eager, huh? If you keep that peace I might think of giving you a reward…” His eyes widen, not only by knowing that you’ll reward him if he spends his entire wallet on making you squirm in front of hundreds of strangers, but also by the sight of your bare tits on display for him.
He has fantasized a lot about seeing you naked when he’s touching himself like now. Imagining how they would bounce after taking off your bra while you ride him, and that thought can finally be checked on his list of fantasies— at half, at least.
He lets out a  stained moan coming from his mouth squeezing himself a little harder seeing how you shake them in front of the camera. His mind is going more dizzy right now, he could die right now and he’d be totally happy that his last view is how good that necklace looks between your breasts.
And when you shake them on camera? God— He might fucking cum already.
Best fucking present in the world.
The notifications start to blow again, getting a little higher numbers just to get you on the sweet edge of pleasure just like always. 
An idea comes to your mind since there's such a good welcome this time, and you take a quick glance to the bed behind you.
Your desk is just in front of your bed, just for ease when the streams get a little more heaty, this kinda looks like an occasion for it. But you need a little reassurance from your viewers, just to be sure.
“Y-You guys are being so good to me today… Should I– Fuck!” Eren has sent another multiple small donations that make you break the character for a little, making you tremble and see again how good those tits look when you start to shake. 
The moans can't be held when the vibrations are being sent without a break for you. Your cunt is dripping on the small toy and you have to tangle your fingers on your hair while the other squeezes your breast to not, finally, rub your clit to reach the orgasm. 
“You really like to tease me a lot this time…" You see the comments praising you for such a good show and you take a breath before continuing, trying to keep the character. "D-Do you want me to get on the bed for a better show? One for no, two for yes. But I'll leave the decision on our new good visitor, Kruger Soldier. Just for being so good to me, y'know."
The small body on his screen is trembling, already feeling close and you have just reached the second donation goal to get naked, but the way you still manage to keep the act makes Eren snort with a big smile.
You're so cute.
But for you he's the devil.
That damn viewer is sending you so many constant donations that at this point you could cum just by seeing his name on the screen, predicting that this might be the donation that might be getting you screaming his username.
Kruger Soldier has donated 10 dollars!
Even though the vibrations make you moan sharply on your hand, it disappoints you a little that he chose to keep it on the chair.
“O–On the chair, will be then.” You huff, still squirming but a little sad, until another wave of vibrations startles you on your seat in a cry. 
The notification sound comes again, from the same user, but this time it comes with a message: “Srry. You said two for yes, right? My bad:)”
You bite your lip at the message after you recover from the intense stimulation, holding your laugh.
This person is clearly teasing you, but you’re starting to enjoy this little game. Anyways, you’re always grateful for a good tip during your streams.
Eren is already close to the orgasm when you get on the bed, letting the camera catch how good your naked boy looks. But he won’t cum now, even if his balls are begging for the release he won’t. He wants to cum with you. 
No, he needs it.
When you get on the bed facing the camera, he gets a little sad of not being able to get the view of your ass in delight for him just like your tits before, but he won’t start complaining right now that his red tip is almost exploding with an orgasm.
With small donations of 5 dollars, Eren doesn’t even gives you time to get comfortable on the bed, already having you bending on the bed, with your chest pressing on the mattress as you hold the sheets on your fists, trying to hold something to repress the hard waves of pleasure covering you while your knees try to keep your ass up to give the viewers a good view of the curve of your back. 
There's still a part of you that chose this position to let you enjoy the pleasure, wrinkling your eyebrows through the torture of the pleasure and being free to scream on the sheets.
Your moans are harder than ever in a stream before, due to being a “rising star”, your donations are usually small and not that constant, so you aren't used to being this stimulated.
But this new viewer is so stubborn with the notifications that you’re almost forgetting that you’re on live when your hand stops grabbing the sheet to rub almost violently on your clit to reach the sweet orgasm.
On the other side, Eren is already sweating hard, wanting to take off his hoodie to stop dropping on his clothes like he just finished working out, but that would mean stopping giving him pleasure just at the same time as you as he keeps donating. 
“Fuck— Please cum, dear…” His voice is already so needy, a small tear coming out from his left eye as his hand gets a rougher and messier peace.
You both already forgot what you are doing, what page you are on or even the fact there are a lot of other people watching you. 
The screams of your pleasure are being sinked on the matress but the camera still gets your legs shaking and your cunt tightening around the —fucking still vibrating— toy. You cry hard against the sheets as you ride the orgasm when the viewers start to enjoy your high.
It’s then, when you scream hard against the mattress and your body shakes and rolls on the bed, compulsing and arching of the pleasure that the vibrator is giving you. You grab your tits, thighs, hair and the sheets trying to control the intense shaking of your body as the juices of your cunt blow, soaking on the mattress and making a wet lustful mess of a squirt. 
Meanwhile, Eren is cumming harder than ever in his life in a loud moan that chants your name and covering his hoodie and sweatpants with white strings and stains of cum. 
He knows that this is going to be a headache to clean, mostly because it is his favorite hoodie because you gifted it to him on christmas but it’s okay.
You won't get mad if you're the reason why it's dirty, isn't it?
Seeing how you’re still laying on the bed, with spreaded shaky legs and still compulsing a little because of the hard orgasm is —even if the context is not the best— the cutest thing. 
How you try to get up, holding the bed with weak arms and trying to catch your breath when you walk, trembling to the chair and sitting, fixing your hair a little and smiling shyly.
Eren is not sure if the blush on his face is because of his previous orgasm or because he's madly in love with you.
“Hey… I–I’m sorry, I think that I should…” Your voice is husky and shaky, it even gives the hint that you’ve never came like this on live since your embarrassed reaction. “I should end the stream right now, I… I’m too weak to keep going. I love you guys!”
You wave at the camera shyly and send some kisses before the screen goes black. Eren closes his eyes, still struggling to calm after what he saw and did. He didn’t expect to find you on a page like this but he also can’t complain after almost spending all his money on making you cum.
⋆·˚ ༘ *
“You should fight with your boss for a raise on your pay. Seriously.” You rest your elbows on the bar of the cafeteria, waiting for your coffee as Eren is preparing it.
“I know that you just want me to take you to watch that movie that you like.” Eren grabs your nose between his knuckles, making you whine and blush at his action.
Since he saw you on that page, he has never entered that section again. But he’s gotten more flirty with you, he wants to own you, to see that cute fucked out face again. 
But only for him.
You pout at him and caress his hand when he lends you the cup, causing him to tense when your nails caress softly his veins.
“That's true but only a part of it. Come on, I miss you!” Your words make his chest throb and breathe heavy, almost making him grab your face and kiss you. “And, why do you suddenly need money? What did you spend your money on?”
Eren’s eyes glance down to your neckline, where the tulip necklace rests and slowly starts darting to your glossy lips and finally your eyes. He know that you noticed how his eyes almost ate you out but, since you didn’t leaned back from the touch, he brings his other hand up to your face and put a string of hair behind your ear, making you shiver at the contact.
"And what about you? Don't you have a job or something?" He ignores your question, looking deeply in your eyes.
You laugh softly, shaking your head, still caressing his hand with your thumb.
"No, I don't. I had one but it got boring and I dropped it." Eren chuckles at the answer, leaning a little closer to you and making your breath knot on your throat as you glup.
"That 's better. I want to be the only one who spends his entire wallet on you. No one else, okay?"
Eren has to hold himself from kissing you when you nod, biting your lip, giving you your coffee and asking you to wait for him while he changes into his normal clothes.
Maybe clicking on that stream was the best decision he could ever made.
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@softlilpeachxx
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