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#(and a few sneaky ones of my own!)
thebleedingeffect · 1 year
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In my heart of hearts I truly do just want to write a self insert that interacts with the main story that's it really
#all of my self inserts are extremely indulgent and are locked into my Brain#but there's one concept that I've been thinking of lately that's vry fun and I've been tossing it about in my brain#they're a baby born from a templar father who managed to escape some time around 15 or 16#they began training from a very early age as their father wanted a soldier who could go head to head with the assassin's on their own turf#alot of cultish and bad stuff happened but they were managed to be rescued by a novice who became their first friend ^-^#most assassin's are still skittish and untrusting of her considering her templar upbringing but she was kinda... indoctrinated? from birth?#and had wanted to leave YEARS ago but only managed it in their teen years#but anyway. she usually works alone or with her two other assassin friends as one: no one really trusts her to begin with#and two: big BIG anxiety that makes it hard to work with people when they know that they're largely seen as a threat or liability#she's pretty high on the assassin ranking though! and their little team has a damn high success rate so vry few people have reason-#to complain. mostly newer recruits or those with a BIG grudge against templars in general#anyway physical description time. theyre like altair and that they only rly wear lighttttt armor. heavy or even mid armor is a big NO#vry vry sneaky and patient. is mostly an opportunistic assassin and relies more of stealthy tactics than brute force#but because of this they are NOT a super heavy fighter. usually tries to lean on surprise and skill rather than 1v1 fighting#if force comes to shove though they can most def fight. but tries to flee the moment they find an opening#is pretty mute! keeps things close to her chest and is still in the process of learning to trust anyone at all. even assassin's#wears black and white feathered earrings as well as small golden hoops. has a bunch of piercings#is much MUCH on the smaller. slimmer side but it actually kinda works cause most dont clock her as an assassin at first glance#this makes them good for infiltration and scouting work!#best pair for them is a more brute force assassin who leans towards defense :]#theyre a lil guy. I love them alot. they also have some isu bullshit going on that I might explain
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gutsby · 2 months
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Homemade
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Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.
Warnings: 18+. Sneaky sex tape fun with dbf!Joel ;-) Unprotected p-in-v. Age gap. Daddy kink. Facefucking. Joel being the world’s worst cameraman. Shower sex. Overstimulation via adjustable shower head. Dirty talk. Screaming ‘daddy’ too loud, and your father shows up.
Translations: In Chile, pico is slang for penis. Joel’s is big.
Part of the Waiting Game series
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“If this ever ends up on PornHub, I’ll kill you, Miller.”
Joel knew you meant it, too.
The only reason you’d agreed to make this dumb little ‘home video’ at all was because you were headed back to college tomorrow and wouldn’t see him again until May. Doing long distance was tough, but doing long distance while simultaneously trying to keep a risqué, torrid, and totally-not-age-appropriate love affair with your father’s best friend under wraps was infinitely more difficult. This was the safest way to keep desire alive in the meantime.
Immortalized on a Sony CCD-TR70—because neither one of you trusted iCloud to keep a sex tape secret.
It had also been the only video camera you could find in the closet before your dad had plopped down on the couch just outside your room and announced he would be watching Oppenheimer for the third time. You’d had to scurry off fast before he could invite you to join him.
“I’ll be damned—this thing’s gotta be as old as I am,” Joel mused as he stood at the foot of the bed, camcorder pointed at your semi-nude form.
“I didn’t know they had cameras back in the Stone Age.”
Your smirk didn't flinch, even when Joel flipped you off.
You were lying on your side, head propped up on one hand while the other picked at a few loose strings from the comforter. The lacy, pastel pink bustier holding your tits in place was currently making breathing feel like a chore, and your skin was on fire from the warmth of the room, but you tried not to show it. Joel twisted a dial.
“Alright, now...flash ‘em for daddy,” he grinned as soon as the lens focused in where he wanted: your cleavage.
You rolled your eyes.
“A little closer, please,” you said, patting the space in front of you.
Joel didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still cradling the camera, he clambered over the bed so fast he nearly tripped and took a nosedive in the headboard. You had to cover your mouth to contain a shriek of laughter—and terror—as his frame barreled into yours.
“JOEL!”
Fortunately, your cameraman was quick to recollect himself, planting a knee on either side of your chest once he’d knocked you onto your back. Then, from above, he angled the grey-black hunk of metal just a foot away:
“Anything you’d like to say to the folks watching at home, ma’am?” Joel inquired, suddenly assuming all the poise and matter-of-fact elocution of a news reporter.
You stuck your tongue out at the camera and blew the wettest, fattest raspberry you could muster in response.
Joel hummed, zoomed in on your lips, and nodded.
“Fascinating,” he said, pretending to make sense of the fart noise you’d just made with your mouth, “Have you ever given thought to maybe...sucking cock on camera?”
The swiftness with which he was able to dodge your kick was remarkable. He swayed the camera just out of reach before you could shove it away and say, ‘Joel, quit being GROSS’ and he promptly replied, ‘Ain’t that the whole point of a sex tape, sweet pea? Bein’ a little bit gross?’ And you playfully tried to kick him again, only this time, he caught your foot and yanked you closer to him. He turned the camcorder back to your face and grinned.
“That’s my little pornstar,” he murmured with affection. Then, zooming in again, this time to find your panty line, “Riiiiight there.”
You knew giving Joel Miller recording privileges for an occasion as momentous as this was a bad idea. At the rate you were going now, you’d be seeing the sunrise through the window before you ever got a glimpse of his dick. You needed to take matters into your own hands.
Literally.
You crawled on all fours to get to Joel across the bed.
The man, kneeling with the camera pointed in your direction, looked up to cock a brow at you.
“Sweetheart, hey, can ya do that one more—”
“Hush,” you muttered, closing in on his crotch. 
Your head was lowered so you could undo the front of his jeans. Because of this, your back was arched, and your ass was pointed up just the slightest bit. For a second, Joel seemed torn between tilting the lens to your lower half or your face, which was inching ever closer to the bulge in his trousers. In time, he landed on the latter.
He swallowed. That sight never got old—and seeing it displayed on the camcorder’s semi-grainy screen only made it that much hotter. Joel shifted on his knees while you worked him out of his boxers, watching the nimble movements of your fingers as you wrestled the fabric.
“Wanna—” Glancing to the side of the bed, “—maybe—”
“Yup.”
Both of you liked it better on the floor: you on your knees in front of Joel, chin tilted up to see his reactions as you sucked him off. You loved to sink between his legs and then see and feel nothing but him, brain going blank the moment his cock filled your mouth. Joel slid a pillow under your knees before widening his stance some.
“Is it on?” Your hand was wrapped firmly around the base of his cock and your lips were hovering an inch from the tip. You resisted the urge to lick the precum off just yet.
“Darlin’, it’s been on ever since you stepped outta the bathroom in that— that—” Joel seemed to be searching for a word when the head of his cock was enveloped in a kiss. You dragged your tongue across the slit of him and collected the hot, salty beads with a muffled moan.
Then you pulled off.
“Teddy,” you said, reminding him of the name for that pretty little tulle and lace getup you currently had on.
“Teddy,” Joel echoed, his mind a million miles away from any lingerie jargon at the moment. He held the camera tighter as you took him back into your mouth and sank deeper on his cock. He struggled to keep it steady.
It was strange, watching Joel and the rounded glass of the lens as you did this dirty thing that was only meant to be shared between you and him. Knowing it would be recorded, saved for future viewing, displayed on some dimly lit screen in Joel’s bedroom maybe one, twice, or more likely than not, several dozen times over the next three months. You wondered how you might look from this new point of view; though, you weren’t so sure you needed to know what sight Joel was made privy to while you sucked and hollowed your cheeks around his cock.
As it turned out, that uncertainty wasn’t meant to last you very long, because Joel flipped the camera’s screen around two seconds later. Some sepia-tinted, pixelated rendition of your face, framed by the date and time and a bright red flashing dot beside the word ‘REC’ were the first to greet you. You flinched back just a little.
“Joel,” you said, almost bashful, “Flip it back.”
Joel just grinned. Then he laced his fingers through your hair and tugged you closer to him, thumb stroking over your scalp, “C’mon, darlin’, don’t ya wanna see how goddamn pretty ya look on your knees for me?”
You didn’t think you looked pretty at all. In fact, you reckoned your features looked something more like an alien utility funnel than a real, human face as you tilted your chin inward and seemed to be nothing but eyes and a hollowed-out expression, but you let Joel guide you back onto him all the same. You heard a low rumble of pleasure take shape in his chest as your lips slid over his shaft. Your gaze remained glued to the screen as you did.
Wet with saliva and a few faint traces of precum, you continued to bob your head up and down. Joel’s groans grew louder, and your drive to take him further and further surged as well. By the time his hand was tightening into a white-knuckled fist in your hair, you’d nearly taken him all the way to the back of your throat, and your nose was no more than an inch from the soft tufts of hair on his belly. Joel let out a shuttering breath.
“Fuck me,” he heaved. You might’ve smiled if your lips weren’t otherwise occupied. Then he clenched his hand even harder and murmured, “Can you— can I, please—”
Again, you didn’t need him to finish the rest of the question to know what he wanted. You moved your head back just slightly to nod, a low, ‘Mhmm’ reverberating down the length of his dick as you gave him permission. Joel swallowed and set the camera aside immediately.
He placed it on the nightstand, perfectly level with your head, to the side. Then he rotated the device just a bit, took one glance at the screen, and shortly returned to where you were watching him with wide, glossy eyes.
“Ready?” he asked. His right hand now joined the left at the back of your head, but not before thumbing a quick touch over your cheek to get a feel for your approval.
You hummed once more. You watched Joel’s hips move forward, hands secure around your scalp all the while, and you felt a gentle nudge at the back of your throat. Then another. You couldn’t help the impulse to gag, but thankfully, it was short-lived. Joel peered down at you, eyes searching yours for any plea to stop or slow down, but he found nothing. He sheathed himself deeper until your lips were brushing the base of his dick. He groaned.
“That’s a good…fuckin’ girl,” he managed, voice strained, “Takin’ my cock so deep.”
He shifted his hips to move an inch or two out, then slid his cock forward again, bumping that spot at the top of your throat. This time, you were better adjusted to take him and felt your muscles expand and contract around him without activating your gag reflex. Your eyes stayed trained on his face while he dragged his cock back again.
“My pretty girl and her—” Joel stabbed back into you, somehow tender in the way he did it, “—pretty fuckin’ mouth…Sweet thing likes gettin’ facefucked, does she?”
With the increased pace of his thrusts and the grip he had on the sides of your head, you couldn’t quite answer, but Joel could tell from the glint in your eye that you loved when he manhandled and fucked your throat like this. Watched the light sear gently behind those irises as you swallowed every inch of his cock, back and forth, and let your brain break down to little more than a happy, mindless mush. Joel was always keen to oblige you on that front—aroused to no end at the sight of all your thoughts being fucked straight out of your head—and within the next few thrusts, his gut was giving a familiar clench. He pulled halfway out of your mouth, paused, felt the pinch again, then withdrew from your lips fully.
“Get on the bed.”
You straightened back up and made it over to the mattress, quickly. Before you could assume the position you’d been hoping to take on all fours, you felt yourself flipped on your back. Joel yanked your hips to the edge of the bed and kneeled down between your legs. Hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and had them shuffled down your thighs and past your ankles in no time at all. Then, when he lowered his lips to your wet, aching core, you pressed a touch to the crown of his head.
“Joel, wait,” you said. All of a sudden your chest felt tight.
In spite of the fact that your airways were open and completely free from any obstruction—namely, Joel’s big ol’ pico—you still found it difficult to inhale. Some murky, amorphous sense of anxiety weighed over your chest.
When your hand didn’t move from his head and instead pushed him further, Joel furrowed his brows, perplexed.
“What’s’a matter, darlin’?”
You shook your head, more to yourself than to him.
“I haven’t…just— haven’t washed down there today…o-or shaved,” you stammered, “Don’t want you to taste it.”
That was largely a lie. You’d bathed, shaved, and prepared for this just fine, but really were more concerned about the novel optics that loomed overhead. Being filmed in such a singularly vulnerable state without knowing how to act. You were fine when the attention was focused on Joel and his pleasure, but something about having your every whimper and moan laid bare before you on film felt daunting. Unnerving, in a way.
Joel frowned while rubbing your thigh. His brow pinched inward again, as if he were considering something.
Then he moved across your body, and your muscles eased with relief at the thought that he’d just let it go and get to fucking you exactly how you wanted. You reached for him, ready to wrap your legs around his waist, when a yelp clawed out of your throat. You found that you didn’t get to touch his chest, or his cheeks, or his big, broad, beefy shoulders, as you were promptly thrown over the latter of the three body parts and lifted when Joel stood up from the bed. He started carrying you across the room, heedless of the startled, ‘What the FUCK, Miller?’ you’d cried the second he took one step.
Hardwood floors transformed to tile before your eyes, and shortly, you realized you were being brought into your bathroom.
You heard the squeak of some metal knob being turned, then a brief sputter, then a spray of water raining down on your shower floor. You were still being held hostage over Joel’s shoulder, try as you might to bite at his lower back or smack his ass in an attempt to break loose.
He set you down a second later, seemingly unfazed.
“Get in.” He nodded toward the shower.
Before you had a chance to respond, he left. You stood back in disbelief—refusing to go into the shower and let Joel have his win—but just as you opened your mouth to call out and tell him as much, his form slipped back in through the door. Naked, now, and wielding that stupid, goddamned camcorder with a devious glint in his eye.
“Will you—” You held out a defensive hand in front of you, cheeks already heating, “—stop with that?!”
Secretly, the corners of your lips were fighting a smile as Joel drew closer with the camera held up to your face.
“There she is, folks,” he announced, as though speaking to a crowd, or else reading off of a script from the world’s most cheesy porno, “My dirty, dirty girl says she needs a shower—don’t ya, sweet pea?”
It sounded so ridiculous and dumb that neither one of you could keep from laughing. Even as you lifted your middle finger in response, Joel grinned and smacked your ass. Steadied the camera out in front, nudged you closer to the shower, and watched you somewhat begrudgingly obey his orders. Once you’d stripped what little remained on your body, you stepped into the tub.
Add to ‘ridiculous and dumb’ just wildly unsexy as well—who the hell needed a soapy interlude to a sex tape?
Joel Miller, apparently. He constricted his grip on the camera and followed you in, tongue already skimming the backs of his teeth in anticipation. You turned away to step under the shower’s stream, and he wasted no time getting a shot of your derrière. You leaned forward and sighed.
The water worked wonders to get your muscles to loosen some, but still, you were nervous. You could clean up now, stall a little longer, maybe even offer to give Joel head again—but what if he really wanted to eat you out on camera? You couldn’t put off the conversation forever.
Or another minute, it seemed.
You let out a shriek when you felt Joel’s fingers sneak up between your thighs. You hardly knew what he was doing, just folding limply when he spun you around to press your back against the shower wall. Your eyes widened to see him descending your body once more.
“I lied,” Joel said, smirk painted clear across his features, “You’re not dirty—I just wanted to eat your pussy in the shower ‘s’all.”
Chivalry was evidently alive and well in Austin, Texas.
No truer words could have been spoken, and yet, you felt wildly uncomfortable the second Joel’s head dipped between your legs and that big, dumb, handsome face started licking stripes up your sensitive core. You cast a glance to the side and saw the camcorder perched on the sink—just through the open slit in the shower curtain, you could see it pointed directly at you.
You shivered and started to push Joel away.
“Can we maybe just—”
“Sweetie?!”
Joel’s lips tore out of your cunt quicker than a sneeze through a screen door. His eyes were wide.
“Y-Yeah, dad?” you squeaked, tone almost fearful.
“Everything okay in here? I heard ya scream,” your dad returned shortly.
You could only imagine the expression of confusion and distress painting his every lineament in that moment. Probably just barely sticking his head through the crack in the door and blinking anxiously through the steam.
Your dad was caring like that.
He just never knew the right times to show up.
No, there were very few times where you would’ve liked to see him less—apart from that one time you’d sucked Joel’s dick under the table at your dad’s birthday dinner. Your heart was thudding a wild, erratic beat in your chest, and you could only imagine how Joel was feeling. Probably seeing visions of a Size 11 boot being shoved up his ass if his friend happened to slide the shower curtain to the side and see him nose-deep in his daughter’s box.
That would be bad. So very, very bad and probably ten times worse than when Tommy had caught you blowing his brother at the aforementioned birthday party. You just couldn’t seem to catch a break these days.
You sucked in a breath and answered anyway.
“I thought I saw a spider.”
“Really?” You could already sense the embittered tinge to your dad’s voice, harking back to the war he’d once declared on all wolf spiders in the home, “Want me to kill it?”
The next thing you heard was two boots thud on the bathroom floor outside the shower, and you could’ve sworn you saw Joel’s whole soul leap from his body. He shot a frantic look around him, spotted a window above, and seemed to wonder for half a second if he might be able to shimmy his 188-pound frame through a space that probably wasn’t big enough to fit a fat raccoon. He slumped his weight against the shower wall and winced.
“No! I— It wasn’t even a spider. Just a…roach.”
Shortly, Joel’s eyes widened even more and met yours, as if to ask, ‘Why the FUCK would you say that?’
“A roach?!” your dad cried simultaneously.
Apparently, you’d forgotten that any derivative of the word ‘cockroach’ was like a sleeper agent activation phrase for middle-aged fathers who wanted to keep their homes free of all household pests. The look on Joel’s haggard, world-weary face communicated as much to you, and for a second, you remembered that he, too, was built the same way as any other semi-old dude you knew.
Just bigger and beefier and…harder below the belt than you would’ve expected most men around his age to be.
You quickly chided yourself for ogling Joel’s dick at a time like this and replied to your father, shrill, “No!”
Then, slightly more composed, “No, no— I already took it out with some hairspray and told it to fuck off to hell.”
An attempt at humor was the last leg you had to stand on. Fortunately, it worked.
Outside the shower, your dad chuckled, and his footsteps started to shuffle off toward the door.
“Ah. Atta girl,” he beamed, ever the advocate for brutal cockroach killings, “If you see another, just holler, okay?”
“Okay.”
You heard the sound of the bathroom door closing, and you almost fell to the floor. Joel probably would’ve been facedown just as well—fear seeping out of his body along with every last ounce of willpower to stand—had he not made a dive for you as soon as your dad had left.
The force of his push sent you straight into the wall, legs forced to wrap around his waist as he buried his face in your neck.
“Thank fuck,” he breathed.
“You’re welcome,” you murmured, swiping the water out of your eyes with a grimace.
Then, just as you were about to request that Joel lower you back down to the floor and out of the shower’s spray, you felt a nudge between your legs. Luckily not a tongue this time—just Joel, or the tip of his leaking cock. The man below you grinned, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a wash of relief. Could it be?
“I’ll still eat you out if y’want,” he started, though speaking with a little less conviction this time around, “But after all that I, uh—kinda jus’ wanna fuck ya stupid.”
Well thank fuck for fake spiders and cockroaches, too; you’d just averted a dreaded tonguefuck, thanks to that detour.
You’d worry about your pornstar moans and on-camera charisma another time—now you could just sit back and let Joel do all the work while he took you against the wall.
Really, there was no need to concern yourself with anything at all from that point forward. Once you’d given Joel the green light, he was sinking you onto his cock with a grunt and making sure you felt nothing but him. His hands found your hips and held you firmly in place as he rutted into you from below, your own fingers latching onto his shoulders for some much-needed support. Both of you knew that you needed to be extra quiet now—seeing how sound seemed to carry in that tight, tiled space—so Joel snagged your lips in his for a kiss.
He was practically panting in your mouth by the time you started meeting his thrusts. His fingertips slid some and must’ve seared ten perfect crescents into the flesh of your ass as he fucked you into the wall.
“Look so pretty like this,” he whispered in between kisses and short, shallow breaths. His cock parted your insides with an excruciating welt of pleasure, and he hardly even seemed to realize it, “Look so damn pretty takin’ cock.”
Then, lips kicking up in a smile when it seemed he’d remembered something, he added, “Can’t wait to play this tape back home and watch us fuck all over again.”
Again. Again. And again. Shit, you could just see it now.
Your eyes traversed the compact shower space once more to find the video camera—still perched, still live, still perfectly implacable and silent atop the sink as it recorded your every grunt, groan, and shuddering moan. You were nearly as curious to know what Joel’s bare ass looked like rutting into you like this as you were to hear yourself getting railed against the shower wall. Maybe you’d beat this fear of secondhand embarrassment after all.
Maybe.
Joel’s teeth snagged your bottom lip and bit it, lightly.
“Every chance I get, you can bet I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout this…sweet pussy while you’re away,” he said, voice low and occasionally punctured by a groan, “Say one more thing f’me and I’ll…cum every time I watch this part.”
The kinks at the corners of his lips were endearing. You would’ve liked to supply them with just about anything they could’ve wanted, so when they leaned into your ear and murmured just what it was they needed to hear, you only hesitated a second.
Or maybe two or three, because, well…it was risky.
Moaning ‘daddy’ out loud at a time like this? It might get Joel off quick, but it might send your real dad running even faster. You weren’t crazy about the thought of anything that might draw the man’s attention again.
Joel seemed a little less risk-averse than you, notwithstanding the window-leaping fear he’d felt when your dad had rushed in before. Leave it to a criminally horny man to have the memory of a goldfish, though.
At present, Joel was blinking and gawking a bit like one, too, waiting for you to enunciate that one magic word.
You couldn’t deny he made a damn cute desperate sex fiend when he wanted to be. And you needed to cum.
You figured you could cut a deal with him just this once.
“Alright,” you mumbled against the top of his stubbled lip, “Make me cum and I’ll say anything you want, Miller.”
You weren’t sure if it was a chuckle or a strangled moan that jumped up in his throat when Joel squeezed your sides tighter. All you knew was that he was lowering you to the floor in the next instant, spinning you around, and walking you forward, swiftly and with purpose, toward the opposite end of the shower. Right where the crack in the curtain made you most visible to the camcorder.
Joel’s hand snaked around your front and gently eased between your legs. Then, pressing his chest to your back and nudging you to bend just slightly at the waist, he tipped your bodies closer to the camera’s line of vision and stilled. From the LED screen, you could see the ghost of a smile crossing his lips as he shifted his head beside your own. Next, they were kissing across your shoulder, your neck, that sensitive spot behind your ear, and finally the shell of it, brown eyes trained on the camera lens as he murmured to you, “Stay real still.”
You didn’t know if you could. But you tried. And you damn near cried when his fingers started working circles over your clit. Your body was raised on tip-toes, and your hand was bracing the wall as Joel fucked you from behind and made a mess of your wet, writhing body. In no more than three or four strokes, your fears of looking or sounding stupid on camera trickled away with all the rest of the silent, sizzling liquids circling the drain below. Your cheek pressed against Joel’s rougher one, and with the push of each new thrust, you came more unraveled.
When Joel’s hand closed over the front of your throat, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t move—couldn’t move, as the man was holding you still in such a taut, rigid grip.
“What do we say when we get fucked this nice, baby?” Joel whispered in your ear, words almost entirely masked by the sounds from the shower. You still heard it, though.
“T-Thank you,” you stuttered, cockdrunk and faint.
“Thank you, what?”
Your eyes were fluttering closed, but you could feel the smug expression just over your shoulder. You clenched around him and felt him snap his hips ahead even harder.
“Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered.
“Say it again.”
“Thank you, daddy!” you whined, still scared to be too loud.
Joel wasn’t scared. His hand ascended the column of your neck to pinch your chin between his fingers, jerking your head to the right.
To the crack in the curtain. To the camera.
You could’ve cried with how fast he was fucking you now. You opened your eyes and cast a pathetic look to the recorder. Joel made sure you maintained that gaze, too.
“Who’s makin’ ya feel this good?” he seethed, shaking your whole frame with the breakneck pace of his hips.
“You, daddy.”
“Who’s fuckin’ this sweet cunt like no one ever has?”
“You, daddy.”
Joel seemed sated and somehow not fully satisfied at all. Like he was pleased to see you falling apart for him like this, but needed to hear more. Feel more.
He withdrew from you, and you nearly collapsed with the absence of his arms holding you straight.
You pressed a shaky palm to the wall and almost moaned for him to get his ass back over here, you weren’t done, when Joel returned in a second. To your relief, his muscly arms found their way around your front once more, and his clock plunged back inside you, too—only this time, you sensed you were missing something else.
Water.
It wasn’t on your back anymore.
It was fanning between your legs.
Blasting the full force of its stream toward your most sensitive parts as Joel held the shower head up between your thighs. You would’ve jumped back and screamed were it not for his hand clamping tight over your mouth before you could, his lips grazing over your ear again.
“Try it one more time.”
You released a hoarse, muffled squeal into his palm when he lifted the stainless steel to your clit and started rolling his hips. The strokes themselves were relatively gentle, but paired with the ruthless spate of the water, your eyes were nearly rolling to the back of your head at the pulse.
You couldn’t breathe, much less speak. Joel hummed almost apologetically into your hair but didn’t seem sorry at all as he lowered his hand back down to your throat and squeezed. He continued rocking his hips into yours.
“You’ve said it dozens of times before—what’s’a matter?”
Joel Miller knew what the fuck was the matter. He just liked to see you desperate, fucked-out, and teetering on the brink of going feral before he let you reach your peak.
“D-D-D—”
Damn, you sounded stupid.
“D-D-Do you wanna cum? Is that it?” Joel said, mocking your struggle to articulate words as he fucked you.
In spite of your normal no-bullshit attitude toward him, you weren’t in quite the right frame of mind to be talking back to him. You just nodded and moaned, movements constricted by the grip of his fingers on your neck.
“Use those big girl words for me, honey. I know ya can.”
Again, you parted your lips and started to speak, but the oscillation of the water, the brush of his cock, the patently deprecating lilt in Joel’s string of praises, made it nearly impossible. You ended up sputtering again,
“D-D-ah-fuuuckfuckfuck.”
“That ain’t the word I’m looking for.”
But, just as you ventured to say it once more, he cut in,
“Here. Lemme help ya find it.”
Before you could blink, Joel was pistoning his hips against your ass like he had before, only this time, he held the shower head stationary between your legs as you seized and nearly fell to the floor with the force of all the pleasure coursing through you. Your body seemed to act of its own accord, head dropping to Joel’s shoulder and stomach giving an alarmingly fitful pinch as an orgasm tore through you. You couldn’t control how it came or where it went—or how your tongue jumped up and cried,
“Daddy!”
Joel nodded, fucking you through each violent spasm with all the composure and aplomb of a seasoned pro. While your eyes cycled back in the throes of delirium, he held firm and didn’t slow his hips—or the shower head.
You probably could’ve torn a hole through a cinder block if you’d happened to have one between your teeth just then. That was how fervid and merciless the aftershocks of your climax were pulsing through you, exacerbated to the nth degree by the continuity of Joel’s movements. You managed to grab the forearm that was holding the metal nozzle and plead a wild, slightly stifled, “JOEL!”
In truth, you didn’t really want him to stop. It felt too good. You could tell that Joel sensed this, too, because in the instant after that, his lips were sponging kisses to your shoulder, cock working steadily between your walls.
“One more, sweet pea.”
“Joel—”
“And say it louder this time.”
Were you in your right mind, you probably would’ve chided him for being so reckless and stupid about it all. How the fuck could he expect you to scream out loud when your dad was lounging right outside of your room? Did he really think the drone of Cillian Murphy’s smooth, American-ized tone would mask your unbridled moans? Honestly, you couldn’t be sure—and more importantly, you couldn’t be stopped to consider for much longer. With one last trembling vibration from the shower head and a thrust from Joel, you were cumming all over again.
Squeezing his arm, sinking into his sturdy frame, clenching over his cock in what felt like a hundred convulsions, and casting caution aside, you screamed:
“DADDY!”
You might’ve blacked out for a second or two.
Even a minute, as it was, because the next intelligible thing that reached your ears was the thunder of footfalls. And the thrum of Joel’s own hammering heart as he yanked you into his chest and stilled frozen inside you.
The door swung open on its hinges so hard it hit the wall.
“What is it, sweetie?!” your dad yelped.
“I—”
“Are you hurt?”
Just fucked raw by your best friend and shaking, Pops.
You sucked in a breath when Joel nudged your head with his nose and slowly pulled the shower curtain closed to move you out of view of the camera. But it was still there.
Your dad was still there.
The shower walls seemed to be closing in on you, but somehow, you managed, “No, dad, I’m fine! Just…coulda sworn I saw another spider in here, but it was nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
Your dad sounded unconvinced, pacing closer. You could’ve screamed, but Joel was likely holding you too tight to make any such sounds possible in that moment. The two of you recoiled, still stuck chest-to-back, away from the edge of the plastic shower liner when a boot thudded just outside the crack between curtain and wall.
You swallowed. Joel squeezed. Neither of you breathed.
“If it’s another roach, I gotta call the extermin—”
“No! No, it wasn’t a roach. I’m just seein’ things, I think.”
That didn’t seem to make your father feel any better, because he didn’t retreat like he had before. A tense moment fell over the compact, fog-infested room, like the man was chewing away at some thought in his head.
Then he sighed.
“Alright.”
Blissful footsteps away from the shower. You smiled.
Unfortunately, the grin was destined to be short-lived, because in the next instant, you heard boots screech to a halt on the tile. Pivoted, then paused where they stood.
Another gut-wrenching dozen seconds passed, and for one short, chilling moment, you could’ve sworn you felt your father’s gaze sear through the curtain and see you.
But he didn’t see you. Or Joel. Or anyone.
Instead, his gaze was fixed someplace else.
Suddenly, his voice rose above all the awful noises of clamor and panic in your brain, and broke out, loudly,
“What’s my camera doin’ in here?”
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simpjaes · 3 months
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FIRST DATE ETIQUETTE (p.sh)
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Park Sunghoon is not dull, nor is he the clean cut neighbor your mother thinks he is. Oh, the horrors of if she found out that the man she set you up on this date with immediately took you home and rendered you unable to walk...he'd never be able to defend himself without a swift slap to the head.
៸៸៸ minors do not interact! 
៸៸៸ PARING:  park sunghoon x afab reader
៸៸៸WC: 9.3k
៸៸៸ TAGS: mentions of food (meat), strangers to fucking immediately to the possibility of dating later, brat taming, mocking and making fun of each other, sneaky sex, flirting and bullying in the same instance, cocky sunghoon, um…they’re kind of competitive in bed
៸៸៸ A/N: what’s that? you’ve read this before? that’s bc i wrote it! I’ve revised the original now to fit sunghoon because I am insatiable in my lust for him. (original title: the bore next door)
smut tags under cut::​​​
SMUT TAGS: dom sunghoon, bratty/sub reader, huge cock agenda (again), he gets the best head he’s ever had, he calls you messy a lot (he likes it messy),  face fucking, pussy eating, nipple biting, finger fucking, squirting,  dirty talk, wow i can’t believe I actually wrote a condom being used this time!!!!, sunghoon tries to make you moan because his horny brain wants your parents to know, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
23rd street. The restaurant is on 23rd street, and you can honestly say you’ve managed to hit every street but this one. From 13th to 35th, does the street in question even truly exist? Were you set up by your parents?
In short, you have been single since high school. Maybe a few flings here or there throughout college but you never truly settled on one man or woman in a relationship. You’re almost shocked that your parents are pushing so hard for you to find love. They want you to somehow feel the love from the movies, something like they had felt when they met. In this century, unfortunately, love isn’t quite as predictable.
 You can’t just pick a person who has a good job and a decent face and assume love will settle in someday. 
Not only is it not predictable but it isn’t a priority in your life. You have no interest in meeting the standard a man could hold for you, nor a woman, or family member. You’re here to exist in your own way, work your way up through the corporate food chain, and live in a home with over thirteen cats before dying a peaceful death in your late eighties. Why do you need a man to do any of this? Why do you need to settle for one cock, one set of hands, and one personality?
Right, because mom wants you to at least try to experience what love is. Surely, it’s just because she desperately wants a grandchild from her one and only daughter. Sorry to disappoint, but that will not happen any time soon. Children were never a thought in your mind, nor was marriage, a honeymoon, or a burial plot next to another person. Your mother knows this, but the least you can do is show some effort to please her, right? To prove that relationships just aren’t your thing, and you’d much rather have the funds to live a comfortable life all on your own.
23rd street is the small thumb tack on a map where there is a restaurant that holds a very, very, annoying arrangement. 
Your mother had really sold the idea to you. She says the nice neighbor boy next to her seems to be around your age, he brings her the mail sometimes. He seems to have a job, his own car, his own home that sits in a plot next to theirs. His lawn stays mowed, the siding on his house stays clean, and apparently he seems quite lonely considering your mother appears to have watched him enough to know he doesn’t bring any girls home.
At least that she’s aware of.
She doesn’t mention what he looks like and of course, when you’d asked because, in all honesty, that’s the most important thing to you if you’re going to get anything out of this, she simply states that he dresses well, is handsome, and has dark hair.
For all you know, she just set you up on a date with Antonio Banderas. 
What you weren’t expecting though, is to find this restaurant almost an hour late and walk in to find an already half-eaten meal in front of a man who looked at you as if you were any stranger on the street.
 A stranger you were, and so was he, but honestly, he is attractive. That alone made you feel a bit guilty for not having found this place sooner. The idea that the man in front of you did not wait for you shows that he also has priorities that aren’t you. This is probably a huge inconvenience for him too, if anything. 
Imagine your nice neighbor lady telling you to go to a restaurant to meet her daughter? God. The first words out of your mouth are an apology. Not for being late, and not for not even wanting to be here, but for your mother for even trying.
“Sorry about my mom,” you mutter, plopping down into the booth with a sigh. You eye over his food, already knowing that the check will likely be split. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Why the rush?” The man immediately says, pushing an untouched glass of water your way. “I don’t mind that you were late, I was just really hungry.”
You hum at him, waiting for the waitress to come over so you can place the most obnoxious order in the world because you’re really not in the mood to even look at the menu or the prices. Chicken strips and fries, obviously.
“So, what did you order?” You state, eyeing his plate. 
“Steak?” He says it like a question, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world and it definitely is. Clearly there is a half-eaten steak that probably costs over twenty dollars on his plate. Still, you were just trying to make small talk.
The man says nothing after this, offering nothing but an awkward atmosphere. It doesn’t take long at all for you to stop caring about the entire arrangement, as if you cared in the first place.
“Look—” You try to offer, and the handsome man in front of you doesn’t even quirk a brow as he sips his own drink. “I don’t even remember your name, and I know my mom is trying to set us up but—”
“You’re not interested, and you have better places to be?” The man finishes for you as he sits his drink down with a gulp that makes much less sound than your own. “That’s fair. My name is Sunghoon, by the way.”
You nod at him, already deciding that you’ll get chicken strips somewhere else on your own so that you can eat them in the comfort of your own home, alone, without a stupidly handsome man in front of you that has, probably, less interest than you do.
“Well, I’m interested, and I don’t have anywhere better to be,” Sunghoon says, shooting his eyes up at you. “And to be quite honest with you, your mother was right. You are pretty.” 
Taken aback, you’re somehow comforted by his forwardness towards you. He acts just as uninterested as you do but counters that demeanor with his words. You can’t imagine that this is how the man picks up women, there’s honestly no way he would win that way. No wonder he is single.  Then again, you kind of do the same thing. You see an attractive person and you act much the same as Sunghoon right now. Uninterested in anything long-term but clearly interested in something. 
“I’m pretty, huh?” You laugh, sipping the water and internally giving this man an extra three minutes to fully sell the idea of this date to you. “Imagine my surprise to walk in and find that I was set up on a date with someone that is actually attractive.”
“Oh?” Sunghoon quirks a brow. “Is this how you return a compliment?” 
You shrug. 
“Is this how a date normally goes for you—you know, where you’ve already eaten your food and would probably rather pay and leave before she even gets a chance to order?”
“No,” he responds pointedly. “Would you rather me throw a tantrum that you were late?”
“You’d be a lot less dull if you did.” You throw back, eyeing a waitress as she heads over. 
Sunghoon watches as you place your order and watches a bit harder at the way you smirk at yourself through nearly everything you say. You must think you’re clever, you must think he’s willing to chase you or something.
“I’m dull?” He questions, staring you down with narrowed eyes when the waitress walks away. “You just ordered chicken strips at one of the most expensive restaurants in town.”
You’re taken aback a bit, shaking off his little insults and sitting straight up. Interesting date, truly.
“Okay then, Sunghoon—” You say his name as if it’s a joke or something, but you don’t really let him react to it. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a systems software developer,” he deadpans, swirling his very nonalcoholic water in his hand. “Not that you’d know what that is or anything. And you?”
In all honesty, you don’t really know what that means, but it isn’t hard to figure it out. Assuming he must make programs or something, assuming he probably flew through college in order to do it in the way he seems proud of what he does. In all honesty, it still sounds like such a bore. He must talk in code or something in his free time. 
“I’m—uh—I’m a teacher.” You try to laugh, realizing that you’re kind of putting him down when he very clearly must make more money than you do. 
Only now does it set in that your mother stated he has his own home. One that sits directly beside theirs in a neighborhood that you grew up in. One that you tried to find your own home in but ended up in a shitty apartment in the city because it is all you could afford. Sunghoon must make good money. 
“Oh yeah? What do you teach?” He perks up in interest, no longer acting as if he is trying to insult you and instead offering conversation to you with such ease that you almost forget you’re supposed to be getting through the date in discomfort. 
“I teach everything, I guess. It’s just first grade. I swear, I teach them how to pull up their pants properly more than how to spell words.” You smile to yourself thinking of the loud and obnoxious children you teach five days a week. 
Your job is why you don’t want children though. Your job is why you’d rather stay single. All you hear about is how the third-grade english teacher is fucking the fifth-grade science teacher even though he has a wife who is pregnant with their second child. Sometimes you hear gossip about the students themselves. Who in their right mind as an adult would gossip about elementary school kids? It’s no wonder you’re not a favored teacher. You’re sure they’ve said something about you for not having a significant other or a child on the way too. 
Sunghoon smiles through your endearment towards your class, eyes perking up at the plate of chicken strips on their way to you. He doesn’t say much when you thank the waitress and doesn’t really pay attention to the way you devour the first strip in nearly one bite. 
“Seems like a lively job. I just sit around all day staring at a computer screen…” He begins to drone on about his own job, sounding more like background noise in your head if you’re being honest. You can barely hear him over the crunching of your chicken and you’re a bit thankful for that.
“And I think that it was really worth the—” You interrupt his long string of sentences with a call of his name. “Sunghoon, do you have any other interests?” You ask, sipping your water.
He deadpans at your rudeness of interrupting him. Sunghoon doesn’t often go out on dates, nor does he often get asked about these types of things so, he goes quiet, flicking his eyes down to his hands and then back up to you.
“I like to go hiking, I guess? Watching movies? Sometimes I like to cook—”
Ah. He’s one of those guys. 
“Those are like, the most common interests a person can have. You don’t have any special hobbies or weird quirky things you like to do?” You question, trying to see something in him past the fact that he’s nice to look at and has a decent paycheck. 
“I don’t really have the time to put into other things. When I’m not working, I’m busy cleaning my house or doing yard work since I’m usually too tired during the week to do it.”
“God, you are such a bore.” 
Sunghoon realizes now that maybe you’re not just throwing around banter. Sure, neither of you really wanted to come on this date but he could have used the time away from a computer screen to look at his neighbor’s daughter. If anything, it was an interesting offer, and those don’t come by him too often. He had seen photos of you. He knew you were pretty, and he also should have known you were a bit stubborn with the way your mother warned him before the date.
“If I was so boring, would I be sitting here on a date with a woman I don’t know?” He glares over at you. 
“I don’t know, probably. It isn’t the riskiest thing in the world. What? You don’t have tinder?”
Sunghoon looks down again, because no, he doesn’t have fucking tinder and he doesn’t understand why that matters.  “Why does that matter?” 
“Ah, so we are similar.” You smile to yourself in a small win, and you’re not even sure if it’s even an argument at this point. “No time for hobbies, so no time for dating either?” 
He nods slowly at you, completely confused by the way you go from picking his personality apart to finding some way to connect with him. 
“We can wrap this up then if you want?” You offer, still picking at the food on your plate. “I can pay for mine, so I release you from this arrangement.” 
He just sits there staring at you. What a peculiar woman. Do you really assume he isn’t somehow finding the fun in all of this? In all honesty, this date is going off without a hitch compared to many other dates he’s been on. He has never been on a date where he is criticized, nor has he ever criticized a date himself before.
 It’s almost kind of nice, like a breath of fresh air being able to meet someone who isn’t trying to show their best aspects. Someone who is sitting in front of him being as real as they possibly can be. Sure, you’re attractive, but your lack of interest in this date is somehow—flooring.
“What if I want to stay?” He makes eye contact with you. “What if I want to pay for your overcooked chicken?” 
“I’d be letting you win if you pay for me, but you’re free to stay.” You wave him off with your hand, realizing that the chicken is very dry and wasn’t hitting the spot like you’d been pretending. “So, what now then?” You add with a tilt of the head. 
“Admitting I’m interested in you?” He says it with so much confidence that you’re a little bit surprised, because this entire time you’ve been trying to act as uninterested as possible, despite finding some amount of attraction to Sunghoon.
“Poor you,” You coo, pushing your plate away from you and pulling your almost-empty water closer. “Okay, let’s try and make this worth something then.” 
Sunghoon prepares himself to listen, but honestly, he couldn’t have prepared for what you’re about to say to him.
“Neither of us are looking for anything serious right?” You ask, continuing after he nods. “So,” you pause briefly, thinking a bit too hard on how to word it. “Why don’t we just treat it like a tinder date?”
You’re definitely implying that the night could continue together, only to never speak of or see each other again after the sun rises. 
“Are you suggesting I bring you home with me?” He looks at you with a face you can’t really read. 
“Isn’t that what people do when they’re on a date, find each other attractive, but want nothing more?” You reiterate for him, because he seems to have trouble processing what you’re trying to get across to him. “Unless this isn’t your thing?”
Sunghoon pulls his hand up and pushes his hair out of his face for a moment. He’s thinking about it, barely even realizing that you’ve known each other for less than an hour.
“I didn’t take you for the type of fuck on the first date.” He cocks his head, looking at you in a lazy way.
It feels a little painful that the first curse word he says out loud is describing something that involves you and your offer. 
“I’m not, usually, but it has been a while for me and I can’t help but think we could have fun with it.”
He nods, eyeing you down. “Do you want to drive to my house then? Or do I need to bring you back to get your car?”
“Nah, I can drive. I know where you live, considering I grew up next door and all. I can just crash at my parent’s house once we are done.”
Sunghoon kind of shifts his eyes nervously, looking down at the table and then back at you with a lick against his bottom lip. “Speaking of, your parents—” He pauses, fiddling with his hands. “Look, they probably wouldn’t expect me to be the type to uh, get intimate with their daughter on the first date.”
“Only date,” you correct him, amused. “What, you thought we would meet again after this?”
Sunghoon waves you off dismissively. “That’s not the point. I don’t want my neighbors thinking I’m some fuckboy, and I’d rather them not find out because I’m sure your mom would slap the shit out of me the next time I bring her the mail.”
“Sunghoon—” You snort in a mocking tone. “My mom set you up on a date with me, you’re gonna take me home and show me a good time within an hour of meeting me. Imagine if she found out you’re not as sweet and innocent as she thinks–”
His face goes warm, but his eyes darken a bit as he looks at you. “Listen, I don’t usually do this.” 
“Well yeah, you seem too boring to actually have some fun.” 
Offense taken. 
And when he says nothing else to that, you speak up again, this time a bit more gentle. 
“Don’t feel like you have to. I can go home and we can pretend this never happened.”
“No, no,” Sunghoon assures, making eye contact with the waitress as if to silently ask for the check. “I could use the distraction.” 
He was slim when he stood up, obnoxiously attractive getting into his stupidly expensive car, and even the way he drove in front of you pissed you off. He drove the speed limit all the way to the familiar street of your childhood. What a boring, boring man.
When he pulls into his driveway, you aren’t sure if you should park at his house or your own. You realize if you park at either your parents will wonder why you’re parking in their driveway but not in their living room, or wonder why you’re parked in the clean-cut Sunghoon’s driveway because he would never fuck their daughter on the first date. 
You opt to park a block away, walking to Sunghoon’s house and feeling a bit silly for hiding. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Fitting,” you say as you step into his living room and scan the way he is entirely boring.
“What?” He asks from behind you, watching you judge his space.
“Very monotonous, very you.”
Sunghoon sighs at your constant critiques of him, but he’s smiling through it because you’re still here, and you’re the one who suggested coming home with him.
“I’ve gotta say, I’ve never brought a woman home just to have her insult me,” he laughs, stepping around you and placing his jacket on the end of the couch. “I can imagine that your place hasn’t been cleaned since you moved in.”
You glare at him, slipping your own jacket off and throwing it on his floor out of spite.
“I am a comfortable mess, Sunghoon, and you–” you scan the room once more, “are very clearly uncomfortable.”
He shifts his eyes for a second because, yeah. It’s not that he wouldn’t enjoy having colorful photos on the walls or a couple of knick-knacks lying around. Arguing about it isn’t your purpose for being here though, and he’d much rather skip the banter at this point.
“I can admit that your jacket looks good on my floor,” he takes a step forward, attempting to be as bold as he typically would be with a woman who knows how he is in bed. He’s never had to play off of his own cleanliness though. “I’m willing to make a mess of this house if you take more off.”
Oh, okay.
“Oh, so you can be interesting?” You mock him once again, reaching for the hem of your dress (yes, dress.) and looking at him. “You want to see my clothes on your floor?”
Sunghoon watches you intently, seeing your thighs being exposed more and more as the dress raises. His body is already reacting, becoming more attracted to your witty sense of displeasure toward his entire personality and lifestyle. After all, he’s a computer whizz and you deal with screaming children all day. He wonders why he expected anything less. Little do you know though, he fully intends to have you praising him before the night is up.
“I’d like to see you on my floor,” he answers, reaching for your dress and pulling it up further and above your head. “If I’m being honest, anyway.”
You were trying to go slow with the removal of your dress, mostly to see how he reacts to seeing a woman nearly naked in front of him but damn. You weren’t quite expecting how forward he’s being about it. Here you were expecting to be fucked missionary without any foreplay in a bed with all white sheets, right next to a washer and dryer, socks on, lights off. 
“Oh,” you gasp, slightly out of character in his opinion but his body reacts even more to that. He’s already allowing himself to get aroused so, naturally, his confidence is also bubbling up through each thought and word he decides to say to you. 
“What, you’re shocked?” He laughs, dropping your dress to the floor and scanning your body. “I can admit that I’m a little shocked too.” 
You look at him in confusion, moving your arms over your chest and wondering what the fuck he’s talking about. 
“You wore a matching set for a first date? With a complete stranger?” He mocks you this time, stepping even closer and running his fingers along the hem of your bra. You can feel the warmth from his thumb gently rubbing the skin as he does it and instantly your body tells on you in the form of goosebumps. 
“I’ll have you know,” you’re the one stepping closer this time, “I always wear matching sets, because I like to feel sexy.” 
You’re a liar. You definitely wore them just in case.
He hums, mere inches from your face as he looks down at you. It feels like he’s fucking looming, it feels like he must have his heat set too high or something.
 It gets even worse when his eyes don’t leave yours, but you feel his hand drop from your chest only to hear the familiar sound of a belt being unbuckled. He stares at you while he does it, his hair falling in his face at the movement of what he’s doing waist down. For some reason, that does it for you, and you’re already rubbing your legs together as you stare right back at him. 
“I think that’s bullshit,” he smirks, slipping his belt from the loops of his pants and tossing that to the floor as well, and then he brings his face another inch closer, “and don’t think I can’t tell that you’re turned on.” 
You don’t back down, nor do you admit that he’s absolutely right. You just look at him, watching a strand of his hair fall in front of his eyes that are beginning to darken by the second. 
“I’m not turned on, believe me, it’ll take a lot more than–” You’re cut off by him planting his hand directly between your legs, two fingers pressing your panties slightly into you. 
“Hm?” He encourages you to say that again, but you’ve got your breath caught in your throat at his extreme change in demeanor.
Still, he’s looking directly at your face, watching the way you try to think of a lie. 
“You wanna keep pretending that I’m boring?” He asks, sliding his fingers up and pressing against your clit. 
You shake your head, finally dropping the act and blinking at him with empty thoughts. 
“That’s what I thought,” He ticks his tongue at you, now pulling his fingers away and showing you that even through your panties, his fingers are already soaked. “Now take the rest off.”
You do as he says, watching him step away with his shirt untucked and his pants undone. You note that he grabs a condom, which for some reason reminds you that you’re definitely about to get railed into the next dimension if that bulge behind those pants implies anything. 
Standing there with all of your clothes thrown around his living room, you watch him harder than you already had been. He’s slow when he sets the condom down on the table, and even slower when he walks up to you and places a hand on the top of your head before guiding you to sink down.
“Wha–right here?” You ask, feeling the clean carpet offer relief for your knees rather than the hard wood floors of the room over. 
“I said I wanted to see you on my floor, didn’t I?” He smiles, already admiring how shameful you’d appear to be if your parents saw you naked and on your knees for him. 
You nod, looking up at him. When you reach forward to actually lower his pants though, he steps back and continues to create distance between the two of you as he backs himself up to the wall and lounges against it. 
“Crawl to me,” he instructs, wondering if it’s too much for you but letting out a pleased sound of relief when you instantly do it.
Would you normally let a man tell you to do that? No. Would you ever actually listen to a man who speaks to you like this? Fuck no. You can’t defend your actions when you do it and you also can’t lie that you’re absolutely fucking dripping over it. Like, honestly, he’s going to have to deep clean this fucking carpet by the time you leave this house. 
When you reach him, you can feel the heat in your cheeks at the very idea of him from this angle. You sit on your knees, lifting your hands to his pants and lowering them before he can try to draw the process out even longer. You can hear him let out a short chuckle at the way you try to be quick with it, and you already know he’s about to say some shit.
“I didn’t expect you to be this eager.” He talks down to you with a deep and raspy voice, one that sounds entirely sensual. In terms of what he says though, honestly, you shouldn’t expect much more considering how the two of you practically roasted each other before this very instant. 
You ignore his words, letting his pants drop to the floor and now reaching to pull his briefs down. You were incredibly unprepared for his size as you watched it stand stiff and raging in front of your face. Not a single hint of precum is seen, and it makes you feel kind of pathetic for how wet you’ve already gotten. It almost feels like a challenge now, to make him feel just as desperate as you do now. 
Thankfully, your throat is fairly trained for sucking men until they’re trembling. Hopefully, all those dudes you’ve fucked around with before come in handy and don’t let you down this time around. 
Sunghoon watches you from above, smiling over the way you stare at his length before finally touching it. He keeps his cool though, wondering how just over an hour ago you were ordering the worst food a restaurant has to offer, scoffing at his job, his hobbies, and now look at you. What a sight. 
“Go on,” he encourages you, pressing his hips forward so that the head of his cock hits your cheek, “let me see how messy you are.”
You roll your eyes at him, gripping the base before closing your eyes and breathing in through your nose. The very second you wrap your lips around him, he has both hands on your head, not moving it, not pushing you down or anything, just resting there. You’d think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that he pushes his hips forward after four whole seconds.
So, he’s not going to guide your mouth, he’s going to hold it there? Okay, you guess. Thankfully, he’s not being super rough with it like you anticipated. If anything, he’s sliding himself into your mouth much as you’d do on your own. 
He hums out at the feeling of your inner cheeks hugging against his length, pressing in more and more with each thrust of his hips until he finally gets the majority of his length past your lips. He can see you breathe through your nose, but he doesn’t feel resistance at all so he presses his hips in even more, essentially until he’s blocking your airways and your throat is restricted around him in a gag. 
Instead of pulling your head back though, he feels your fingers grip the back of his legs, you’re trying. He holds your head there in place, feeling your throat massage his cock in probably one of the best ways he’s ever felt. 
“Shit,” he seethes out between a bite of his lip, “you’ve done this before?” 
The very thought of you letting your throat be used is enough for him to want to keep doing it, but hearing your response as a half-moaned gag vibrating around his length is a whole other story. 
He releases his hands from behind your head just to see if what he thinks you’re implying with those vibrations of sounds is right, and god is he thrown for a loop. You stay there, and even when he pulls his hips back before fucking into your throat once more, you still stay there.
He’s going to lose his goddamn mind because never has a woman been able to withstand this amount in their throat for this long for him. Enough to actually have him a little worried that you’re essentially suffocating on him. 
Sunghoon snaps his hips back, pulling out of your mouth and leaning down just a bit to grab your chin and guide your eyes up to him. 
“Breathe,” he says, watching the way you smirk at him as if you’ve won some sort of award. He narrows his eyes at you, “You can choke all you want babe, but you’re gonna have to not be this cock drunk if you want to pretend that you’ve got the upper hand.”
That motherfucker. You’re trying to make him show just a hint of desperation for you and he completely flips the tables on you? 
Before you can even argue again, he’s guiding your lips back on him. You decide that it’s not over yet, he can talk down to you all he wants, but you’re going to be the one laughing at him by the end of the night. 
You allow him to place his hands back on your head, and you kind of like the weight of his cock on your tongue if you’re being honest, but god damn does he have a harsh rhythm. His hips snap languidly but he buries himself deep.  Even when you try to look up at him as your nose presses against his pubic bone, he’s looking down at you so casually. Like he feels okay. Just okay. 
This time, when he pulls his hips back, he doesn’t have to hold your head steady. You chase his length even as it tries to slide from your mouth, and you start to move your head back and forth in time with his hips. You finally receive a moan from him when you reach a hand up and cup his balls, massaging them in one hand as your saliva bubbles out from around your lips.
“So fucking messy–” he chokes out in a surprised moan, praising you for somehow making this feel even better than it already did. 
You hum around him again, feeling the weight of his cock pulse against your tongue and you start to taste more of his precum. Shamefully, you’re starting to want this more and more. You want him to call you messy, you want him to bruise your throat. You don’t mind, now that you’ve seen a snippet of what he’s like when he shows his pleasure.
Just a moment goes by when you feel his hands grip your hair, pulling slightly and following the rhythm of your movements, just putting a bit more force behind them until he finally presses you one last time against his pelvic bone, swirling his hips and stretching out your throat impossibly more around him. 
“Just like that, yeah,” his moans echo throughout his empty walls and it causes your eyes to flutter as you try to breathe in through your nose. When you gag, he moans again. “Fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing.”
Then, he releases you and watches with a smirk at the way you pull back in a deep breath before wiping your mouth. 
You’re not sure why, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel proud. Maybe it’s because he’s managed to pull out this weird, needy side of you, or maybe it’s because he looks incredibly good looking at you like this after the two of you spit insults at each other all night. 
“Do you want me to return the favor?” He asks, finally unbuttoning and removing his shirt.
Seeing him now, you stare at his chest and toned arms, wanting to grab onto them and feel him do whatever it is he wants to do to you. He, on the other hand, can’t tell if you’re nodding to his question or looking him up and down slowly. 
“You were so talkative earlier, what happened?” He smiles, stepping forward and falling to his knees himself, nudging your legs open in one go as he presses you back against his floor. “Do you want to fuck my tongue, or no?”
He continues to smile at your silence, eyes trained between your legs as he spreads them and then looks up at your face. “No?” 
You shake your head, leaning back on your elbows to watch him and take a breath in.
“It’s hard to talk when you’re like,” you motions towards him, “that.”
He chuckles, taking it as a compliment before snatching a pillow off of his couch and tapping your thigh to get you to lift up. You do so, allowing him to place the pillow under your ass before he settles himself there.
His eyes stay locked on yours as his fingers start to trail to your core, slipping through your folds with such ease that your embarrassment shows plainly on your face. 
“Messy,” he compliments, lightly tapping against your clit before lowering his head and blowing softly against the glistening heat you offer to him. “Keep your legs spread for me, darling.”
You still watch him, his eyes glaring up from between your spread thighs as he lets his tongue fall from his mouth and lick one long and languid stripe up your slit, stopping just before your clit and pulling back as if he’s tasting. You’re not sure what it is about him but goddamn, he must know he looks good when he’s pleasuring a woman. 
Despite him asking you to keep your legs spread for him, it appears that he doesn’t trust you to do it because he’s still got one hand prying one of your legs apart and his head moving in all sorts of ways as he allows his tongue to lap every part of you besides your clit. Even his other hand, exploring and gently placing pressure against your entrance– the way he’s doing this makes you want to press forward, it makes you want to do exactly as he asked. 
You roll your hips forward, and he instantly attaches his lips to your clit. You stop, and he trails back down and flicks his tongue against your folds in a teasing way. You grind forward, he’s right back on your clit, flicking his muscle the same way and eliciting a whine from you. 
This time though, when you roll your hips back, he takes both hands and presses your legs open as far as he can get them, spreading your pussy out across his lips for him to take full control of. He nips at your clit before licking down, pressing the pointed muscle into you and only then does he release your legs. Now, he’s sliding both hands under your ass and rocking you against his face, angling his head so that he can lick inside to taste your plush and wet walls.
God, you’re gonna lose it. Even if you didn’t want to, you’d think the way he’s moving his mouth is enough to get anyone to take advantage of it. You moan, pressing forward and back against his mouth as your own fingers fall to your clit. You rub when you press forward, feeling his warm and wet saliva drip from your slit and down to your ass, and you rub harder when you pull back, watching his eyes flutter open and still somehow manage to glare at you.
And just as soon as it started, you blink and his face is right there. You would have let out a shocked sound, because jumpscare much? But you moan instead, because he hovers over you with a smirk and an arm between the two of you, his fingers instantly sliding into you as he attaches his lips to yours with little more than a moan of his own. 
“Have you ever tasted yourself?” He asks, licking against your lips and scissoring his fingers open inside of you.
You have, but for some reason it tasted better this time when he prods his tongue against yours. Perhaps it’s because it’s from him, or maybe it’s because you are a little obsessed with the way he navigates sex. 
When he pulls back from your mouth, now losing himself a little bit in the heat of the faces you make when you feel good, he can’t help but give you a moan along with your own. You sound so fucking good when you’re not talking your shit, and god he knew that mouth could do more than be annoying. 
“Open up,” he whispers against your lips, licking your bottom lip as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you, “let me hear you.”
You can’t really help it. When you open your mouth, you’re practically panting for him. His arm is moving harshly as he fucks his fingers into you and causing you to nearly lose balance on your elbows, but he holds you there with his other arm wrapped around your waist, still licking against your lip and smirking when you still can’t say anything. 
“Louder,” He instructs, at least wanting you to moan louder for him if you’re going to act like this when he’s touching you. “Let your momma hear how good it feels, babe, go on.” 
Your eyes shoot open after that, and god, he is the fucking worst. Or maybe not, you can tell he does it on purpose. His fingers curling up inside of you and putting intense pressure against a spot that takes every man ages to find if they manage to even remember it.
“Sunghoon,” you groan, rolling your eyes back while rolling your hips forward, hand shooting to his and holding it there, “can’t you just fuck me already?”
He chuckles, dipping his head down to give a sharp bite against your nipple, his fingers still curling up into that spot. 
“Soak my fingers first.” He says, floored by how good your voice sounds when you want to get fucked. 
He continues to suck and bite against your nipple, and that sends shocks of pleasure straight down to where his fingers meet your g-spot. You could come right now if he’d just–
You roll your hips forward harder, grinding your clit against his wrist and essentially fucking yourself on his fingers now. He moans against your nipple at the movement, biting down harder as he hears you just above him holding your breath. It seems like you like not being able to breath, which is just fucking great for him. Your mom would be so heartbroken, honestly. 
“You think you can ride my cock like this?” He asks, popping your nipple out of his mouth and moving those bites up your neck and to your ear, “Think you can take it?”
You nod with heat rushing through your body, feeling his wrist stiffen up for your pleasure to grind against. 
Fuck, he can feel your cunt gripping his fingers as you work yourself up and it takes everything in him not to pull his fingers from you and absolutely bury himself into the tight heat you’re offering, but he holds back, pulling from your neck and watching the way your brows furrow and your mouth falls slack.
“Yeah, that’s it babe, ride it.” he encourages, hearing your wet slide against his fingers with each movement of your body.
You shake as it washes through you, feeling his fingers remain in their spot against your little bundle of pleasure inside of you. You feel like you can explode from this alone and he practically forces it out of you, pulling his fingers out and immediately rubbing circles on your clit. 
“Let it go for me,” he encourages in a pleasured sigh, watching your body tremble involuntarily as your face contorts to what anyone else would assume is pain. He moves further back and watches your body soak both him and his floor. “Fuck, yes, such a fucking mess.”
Well, that’s never happened before and the fact that you’re still orgasming is also new. You feel so sensitive, releasing in waves that offer little in terms of self control. Your hands shoot to his arm, gripping him so tightly as you try to hear his moans for you, but to be honest, you can’t hear a fucking thing through this wall of arousal in your head. 
Finally, you open your eyes and he’s just looking at you, smirking at the dripping against his legs and the wet spot on the floor. 
“Messy, messy girl.” He says with a chuckle. “Dirtying up my living room like this? Come on, get up.”
This is the first time Sunghoon has ever had a woman squirt for him, and honestly he’s been trying for ages to let someone experience this through him, goddamn was it sexy to see. You look absolutely fucking gone at this moment, and he might be fucking in love with the image. So badly does he want to see those shaking legs try to stand for him, so badly, does he want to see you fucking buckle.
“Come on,” he says again, not giving you enough time to even think about standing before he’s pulling you up on wobbling legs and pressing your toward the couch.
He watches how you wobble over, shuffling your feet with your knees turned inward with each step. He can’t help but lick his lips, seeing how your arousal drips down both of your legs in a shameless show of how much his fingers alone could do for you. 
“Sorry,” You rasp out as you make your way over, brain fogged from the orgasm and unable to feel much at all outside of the pulsing inside of you. “I’ve never–”
“Don’t worry, I like the mess.” He smiles, snatching up the condom and tearing the wrapper open with ease before rolling it down his length, staring at you.
Oh, right, he still hasn’t even fucked you yet. Fuck, he’s good.
He sits himself next to you, pulling an arm around your waist and guiding you on top of him. He doesn’t even think twice at your shaking legs, soothing them as you follow his hand and position yourself against his long neglected cock being held up with his other hand. 
“Gonna keep that promise?” he asks, still smoothing his hands over your legs and looking up at you. “Gonna take my cock better than you did my fingers?” 
You nod, feeling a pulse of electricity inside of you. Willing you to take more, wanting to be stretched further.
Besides, you know that once you’re seated with his length fucking impaling you, you’ll at least have his broad shoulders to hold onto if you need to stay steady.  
And when you sink down, you hear the sound you’ve been trying to pull from him all night. He lets out a soft moan, almost a whimper if you think hard enough about it, and it ignites a brand new fire in you as you take him in inch by inch. Feeling the searing stretch offer a bit of pain despite the sheer amount of wet you have collected between your legs. 
He can feel you clench around him in the attempt to adjust, and your legs shaking only offer even more in terms of pleasure as you envelope him entirely with your heat. He can’t help but moan, almost unable to keep up his dominant persona with a pussy so sweet wrapped around him. God, he loves blind dates, honestly. 
“Mhm,” he hums, rubbing both of his hands now against your thighs as you sit yourself flush against him and wait to adjust to his size, “I definitely like you.”
You fall forward with a small laugh, the irony of the situation a bit too much on top of your mind falling helplessly and embarrassingly fast at how lucky you are to have a mother to set you up with such a man. 
He’s a bit soft at this moment, wrapping both arms around your waist and listening to your breathless laughs against his neck. Loving the way each inhaled chuckle forces your body to squeeze his cock delightfully tight. 
God, You’re pretty, and so fucking annoying. Just his type. 
“I’m still going to fuck you senseless though.” he finally says, feeling your body still at his words as you lift a bit, just to slide back down on him.
“Is that a promise?” You ask weakly, pretending that he didn’t already manage to do it with his hands alone. 
He nods, the softness in his eyes disappearing instantly when he feels the drag of your cunt hug his length. He doesn’t hold back his moaning for you this time though, and he shows no shame in slapping your ass, and guiding you even closer to his chest. 
You stand on your knees a bit on top of him, watching his eyes zone in on your tits in his face. Hopefully, he’s going to keep that promise too.
His hips snap up harshly as his hands grope your ass and spread you apart. He snaps his hips again and again, nearly pulling his entire length out of you each time just to fill you up once again. Stretching you open and loosening you up, the pleasure of it hitting him right in the throat each time with small grunts against your nipple when you bounce at the movement. 
You whimper out, the sounds still echoing throughout his house along with the sounds of your thighs slapping against his. His grunts are deeper, and all of the sounds together sound like a desperate soundtrack of what you’ve always wished sex was like. He fucks you good, despite your legs still shaking, and despite the pain of his teeth biting against your skin now. 
You can’t help it when you fall forward again, hugging around his head as he starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. His thick cock easily pressing against that same spot his fingers had been teasing earlier. You choke out at the feeling, legs jolting and causing you to sit again out of sensitivity.
He doesn’t falter at your failure to stay in position for him, and instead he gropes your ass harder, swirling your hips around him. You can feel how hard he is inside of you, splitting you open and pulsing at a near constant pace. 
“Ride it,” he instructs, much like he did with his fingers and you follow suit, lifting just slightly and sliding back down again. “Harder,” he demands, pulling his head from your grasp and looking up at you with a wild smirk. 
You look down at him, wondering how pitiful you must look up here. He appears to be loving it though, absolutely in love with the way you struggle to do what you swore you’d be able to. 
Trying again, you begin to bounce on him and he grants you his fingers on your clit for that, moaning at your own choice of rhythm and leaning forward yet again to pop his presumed favorite nipple back into his mouth.
The ministrations of his fingers paired with his mouth sends you spiraling once again into a world of pleasure. The shaking in your legs become more of a driving factor than anything as you ride him better than you’ve ever ridden anyone.
Finally, he’s the one moaning out and trying to string together choked words of praise.
“Your grip is so tight,” he mutters out, kissing up your chest and to your neck, “i can fucking feel you dripping down my legs.” He adds in a moan, losing himself in the way you move your hands through his hair and scratch at the nape of his neck. He wants to ruin you so badly, and he’s already drenched in you. He wants more. 
You knew you’d have him just as desperate as you by the end of the night. Now look at him, muttering out strings of curse words as you do nothing but ride and pet him. He’s melting under you, and you’ll be damned if he comes before you get that second orgasm. 
Shooting your hand to your clit to replace his lazy movements, you work yourself up to your second orgasm and he just watches you, taking in the image of you practically riding him into oblivion until you’re clenching even tighter around him, throwing your head back and shooting your hands to his shoulders as you harshly roll your hips into his. You’re working yourself through it when he starts pumping into you again, short and tight thrusts pushing you through your orgasm until he’s gripping you equally as hard, holding you down on him as he spills out and into the condom in more of a purr than a moan.
You watch him, dazed out of your fucking mind as he bites against his bottom lip and slowly blinks through his orgasm as you. Part of you wishes he just did it raw, wanting so badly for him to make a mess of you like you did to him.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You find yourself with him at your parent’s house just a week later, eating lunch in the chaotic mess of your mother’s kitchen. It’s funny, really, how he’s trying to be polite to her as if he’s not about to take you next door and probably fuck you against an open window just to blow his own cover.
“I told you he was a keeper,” your mother compliments him as she lays a plate of croissants on the table. “Just yesterday he offered to mow our lawn when we head off for vacation this weekend!”
She’s praising him much like you wouldn’t, and you kick him under the table for trying to suck up to her even more now that he’s fucked you several times already. 
“Did he now?” You ask, glaring over at him and then smiling sweetly at your mother. “Guess he is kind of a keeper, maybe.”
His eyes shoot to you and he smiles around his bite of croissant at you. 
“You were right though,” he counters you towards your mother, “she’s definitely a handful.”
Your mother crosses her arms as she leans against the counter, looking between the both of you. 
“How many dates have you been on without telling me?” She asks, looking at you.
“A few…” If she considers it a date to meet up and fuck every other day this week.
“We had lunch a few days ago.” he adds, backing you up. It’s just that the lunch wasn’t exactly like–you know, at a restaurant, and if she knew that cum was on the menu, perhaps you both would be slapped shitless. 
“So, are you guys going to be exclusive, or?”
Sunghoon looks at you curiously, and you look back at him. 
“I dunno, it’s only been a week, Mom.”
She nods, clapping once before pushing off of the counter and leaving the kitchen. 
It’s silent between you and Sunghoon for a few moments before he speaks up.
“I wouldn’t be against it.”
“Against what?” You ask, looking at him with a raised brow. 
“You know, like, dating. I can’t imagine anyone actually putting up with you besides me, anyway.”
You kick him again from under the table, causing him to wince out in pain before glaring at you. You smile in return though, giving him a shrug and now rubbing your foot against the bruise you probably just caused. 
“I find myself agreeing with that statement,” You laugh thinking hard about your next words. “But for some reason, agreeing with you pisses me off more.”
Sunghoon nods, smiling through the pain of the bruise forming on his shin. 
“Good thing I know how to fix that, huh?” He finishes the conversation, fully aware that he knows how to shut you up and make you love it. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
2K notes · View notes
omitea · 26 days
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𝐉𝐉𝐊! 𝐌𝐄𝐍 + 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐃𝐎
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.ft. gojo, geto, nanami, choso & toji.
.content. fluff, jjk men being ugh. so sleepy its probably not well proofread. oh well.
. note. wrote this before bed so im sorry if this sucks lol. pls tell me im not the only one who finds toji’s attractive.
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☆— 𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
gojo always listens to you talk. whether it’s when you’re busy rambling about how he should pick his clothes off the floor or when you sit next to him on the couch, leg propped up on his lap and gossip your day off. so when you feel like he isn’t listening at all, you stop. and he notices. so what does he do; he lifts his blindfold the slightest with his index finger to peer at you with one eye through the opening— motioning for you to go on. and to top it off, he sends you a playful wink because he knows it always seems to get a reaction out of you. unfortunately, because that only boosts his ego.
☆— 𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
geto takes rather good care of his hair, so he liked to make sure it was neatly tied when he was done combing out all the knots. and you liked watching him tie his hair— doesn’t matter if it’s being pulled in a half-up do or a bun, it still caused your eyes to roam the places on his body. from his arms, his toned chest and all the way to his abdomen. he caught you staring a few times and didn’t know why, but he later on found out that it wasn’t his hair you were watching, but the way his muscles bulge every single time from his movements.
☆— 𝐊. 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
nanami wears ties occasionally, almost daily— except at home. and during work, he stresses a lot, having the feel as if something is constantly putting pressure on his chest. the first thing he does when he comes home, is greet you by the door. it was a developing habit for you to take his tie off to release some of the tension, but what you didn’t expect, was seeing his veiny hand reach the band of his tie and loosening it just a tad bit enough. you don’t know what was so attractive by that simple action, but you did know that you definitely would want to see it happen each time he comes home.
☆— 𝐊. 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎
choso sleeps a lot. he does get the right amount of sleep when you’re in his embrace, but that still doesn’t seem to help him sleep any less. when he does prefer to sleep on his own, he often sleeps with an arm resting above his face as the other hand rests on his abdomen. it’s cute how his hair is sprawled on his pillow, making him look surreal with the sun shining through. what you did notice, was that he had like a routine to look at you from behind his arm—almost as if being sneaky, smiling warmly as he greets you with his voice deep and yet thick with sleep.
☆— 𝐓. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
toji often traces his scar that sits at the corner of his lips, thick fingers dragging across the lifted skin. he always kept quiet about it, telling you it doesn’t bother him and that he couldn’t care less what others think— and deep down he does care, only what you think. but you, on the other hand, go absolutely crazy for it. especially when he’s laying on your chest, head tilting to kiss your jaw— only for his scar to graze against your skin. he didn’t expect a shuddered breath to leave your lips, which resulted in him doing that every time he went and placed a kiss there.
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©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀. please refrain from stealing my works !
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thatdeadaquarius · 5 months
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About your language brainrot. I see your "Reader's writing can't match tyvat's long and flowery writing" and bring you "Tyvat isn't used to books over 50 pages long so a short story to the Reader is a whole dictionary to tyvat readers".
Seriously, have you seen how thin the books are? They don't wrote novels, they write short chapters formatted in the way really old stories are. As in, summarizing all the events down into one smooth story then adding a few quotes. Fanfiction writers are insane. They will willingly sit down and write hundreds of words at a time. To them, a proper modern day story of maybe, oh 10k words or so, would probably be like the Oddessy itself.
If we were to combine the two headcanons. It would end up as many historians being intimidated by this insanely long written scripture in the language of the forgotten.
I'm going to take this a step further and say that if the creator asked some people to proofread their things, it would establish a hiarchy of who is able to actually finish the book the creator read and who isn't.
NOW THIS, THIS IS MY FUCKING JAMMMM
I'm so sorry this is so old!! u probably all know this by this point that I've really slowed down as the year has gone on, but I graduated university and then got my first job so its been pretty crazy!
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Sun: Reader (you/they/them)
Orbit: Headcanons-ish
Stars: dash of all the book/nerds of Genshin, heavy on Sumeru?
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Cussing, 16+ Mature Audiences, Spoliers for Sumeru Archon Quests/Scaramouche, & Trigger Warnings: mention of shipping/characters shipping themselves with you.
Comment if any missed, please.
FULL STOP.
THE AKADEMIYA, FONTAINE RESEARCH INSTITUTE, HAVE BEEN WAITTTINNGGGG ON YOUR ASS LMAO
You fall from the fucking sky like a 5 star, or pop out of the Irminsul or whatever
and immediately are mobbed by scholars. LMAO jkjk (not really, bc that's what it’d feel like)
can you even imagine the dread older stories(”the classics” to them), that was instilled in the poor students around Teyvat??
id like to think ur works are the most preserved over the thousands of years of Teyvat archeologists excavating them, in comparison to other authors (teyvat just likes you more, suck it William Shakespeare)
also, bc I cant resist language differences/world building I'm sorryyyy 😭 😭
the vocab of Genshin lang vs. ours, has significantly less vocabulary like their actual dictionary is 1/3 the size of ours type of energy
(Omfg all ur fanfics being considered like insanely long realistic romantic classics or tragedies like Jane Austen-level, and only the richest and biggest play companies put on plays about ur stories bc the script goes on for hours)
(ur plays only get put on for rlly big events bc of this, like Lantern Rite or like a Summer/Winter festival/your birthday, which is, yes, an international holiday)
dude the sheer power move of anything you’ve written being essentially “Journey of the West” to them, like Damnnn.
endless like adaptations, plays, Teyvat-short stories condensing it, (THEIR OWN FANFICTION ABOUT UR STORIES)
the power is, in fact, going to your head every time another scholar both deflates at how long ur stuff is, but also lights up bc they get to read it
speaking of scholars… you know who snatched you up first. you know. you don’t even need to read the next line.
Alhaitham.
sneaky bastard he is, absolutely manipulated, mansplained (and manwhored bc he knows he’s handsome, cheeky little shit) his way into getting you to sit down with him and interview you about both translating other classics, your own, giving your own analysis of others works and ur own, and picking ur brain apart of how/why you wrote urs, etc. its fucking endless,
Kaveh had to come rescue you bc u were starving to death after getting stuck with the Haravatat scholar in his office for nearly 7 hours of interrogation discussion about literature
and Alhaitham wasn't even nearly done, he’d informed you as you left that he already had another appointment for later conversation scheduled (how?? you don't even know ur own schedule??? you have a schedule???) and was looking forward to more of your “creative and enlightening input” :)))
(you’re never going to escape him, not even Nahida herself can save you from his stubborn ass)
On another note, Xingqiu is quaking when you agree to autograph his copy of your stories (of which he has all hard covers of the first edition translations)
Zhongli/Rex Lapis is known for having a near-lifelong passion for searching for your works specifically, and learning how to translate them better into Teyvatian vernacular
like the same way he can absolutely speak on Rex Lapis facts/rocks/adepti info, is the same confidence he speaks about knowing ur work lol
(yes he did also ask for several autographs and another sit-down talk about the works, tho a lot more sneaky then Alhaitham bc he just casually gets u guys into it during dinner)
Barbatos/Venti has written some of the most famous songs based on your stuff, he has his favorites too,
but he always claims the best songs are any that have been written in the story, like either when a character sings something, or there are like quotes from songs ur fanfics are based on lol
(he also demanded to hear what they actually sound like from you, yes, you have to sing them for him lol)
Venti also can surprisingly drunkenly ramble the entirety of at least one of ur stories, like, word for word lmao
(Diluc gave in and did give him a drink on the house for that one, just once, Venti doesn’t remember it lol)
(I forgot to mention, u guys still speak the same language, just like, different versions of it)
ur works being one of the few things all the Archons can freely talk about with each other, like it’s neutral ground bc they’re all fangirling about it lmao
Furina and Neuvillette have had like,, fierce debates over the decades about character dynamics and the general drama of ur stories, they’ve gotten into it enough they’ve stopped talking to each other for a couple days a few times lol
Albedo, Sucrose, Kokomi, Yae Miko, Ei, Raiden, have read every single work they’re gotten their hands on in Teyvat (it took them like a literal year or longer)
Albedo drew you fanart for every single story, bc he’s hyperfixated on everything related to you ngl,
Kokomi had commissioned smaller pocket versions of ur works (which later got popular thanks to Yae Miko) both the OG and the Teyvat shortened versions
THE HARBINGERS ARE THE MOST DOWN BAD LMAO
Childe has literally tried to recreate battle scenes from ur works lmao
and gets especially riled up about fighting someone who resembles any characters from them (esp villains, what a cutie)
You cannot fathom the amount of research throughout Teyvat that has been secretly or indirectly funded by Pantalone/Tsaritsa
from the experts to analyze them, to funding play companies to act them out, to actually excavating places to get more of ur stuff unearthed
(the Harbingers absolutely are the first group of people that got to read several of ur stories first bc of this, like the world’s most exclusive secret book club lol)
Scaramouche used to clown on Childe all the time about how he was too impatient to even “sit down and read the King’s classics”, and he was downright insufferable when he found out about Tartaglia’s habit of recreating battle scenes/that being what motivated him to fight sometimes lol
that being said, Wanderer surprisingly never forgot ur stories.
Even when his memories were wiped for a bit, he found comfort in these fantastical epics still sticking around, even when his old names did not
(he mayyyy or mayyy nottt have secretly namedhimselfafteroneofthetragicprotagonistsherelatesto- )
oh btw, Nahida also found joy and comfort in ur stories when she was trapped, they also helped her literally grow as a person bc she had ur stories to help her sort of process the world/what life was like outside of her dreaming prison 🥺💔❤️‍🩹
OMFG
ANYWAY FULL TONE SHIFT LMFAO-
the ABSOLUTE SPIRAL-RED-STRING-CONSPIRACY-THEORY-BOARD ENERGY IF THIS WAS A BLUNT LANGUAGE AU LMAOOOO
like specifically how Teyvatians like to give all the context ever thru their words, but older deities/beings like you just do simple phrases that can have deeper meanings (whereas teyvat just explains all the meanings behind their words)
STOP there’s like an official display at the Akademiya and Fontaine Institute of red string theory boards 😭😭 (look what you’ve done to themmm LMAO)
for like every story of urs, INCLUDING THE FANFICS STOP
IMAGINE THE SHIPPING WARS IF U EVER WROTE ONE THAT WASNT EXPLICIT OR LIKE ONE OF THE MAIN ROMANTIC INTERESTS HAD CHEMISTRY WITH OTHER CHARACTERS HAHAHAHAA
that's actually what Akademiya scholars argue about the most viciously, it’s like politics you can’t just bring up ships from ur stories casually in regular convos 💀
(poor Cyno has to deal with a shipping war once a year bc someone always makes the mistake of reading ur work for the first time (without being told to not talk to others abt ships lol) and it starts an all out brawl in the cafeteria every time LMAO)
Also yes.
Cyno is a fanboy.
(he has read Creator x Reader-insert fanfiction.)
(As have most of the characters mentioned, and those not lol)
(I'm gonna make a whole Creator x reader fanfic post one day i stg lmao)
an iced coffee? for me?? :0
ok but real talk…
wtf do you guys wanna see for new years!!
i didn't do a inktober/october days thingy bc i felt too unprepared (and bc id wanted to post that 1000+ followers eldritch au for Halloween)
but now i kinda wanna, at least for a few days :o
ill post a poll in a minute, so check it out!! but still, please feel free to comment some ideas here! :)
Safe Travels Deafening Dreamer,
💀♒
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If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"
(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily
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Text
She-Wolf - Feral!Reader x Ghost
Content Warnings - Violence, blood, descriptions of murder, smut, afab!fem!reader
Description - Soap notices something new about Ghost.
A/N - here it is @groguspicklejar I finally made it.
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That's new.
Soap has never seen that before. In the military you get used to the general disregard for privacy. You shower together, sleep in the same place together, eat together and bleed together. So Soap has gotten used to the bodies of those around him. But also, he's always noticed when things on his teammates' bodies changed.
Like when Gaz got that new scar on his thigh. And like now, with a tattoo on Ghost. Which is odd, he's never seen a new one on him before, always that same sleeve. Weirder still... Is that a tattoo of a bite on his left arse cheek?
For a moment, Soap thinks his eyes are deceiving him so he rubs them. Ah fuck- his hands had soap on them. Fuckfuckfuck. He rinses his eyes out and then looks over at Ghosts arse again. No, that's definitely a tattoo of a bite, a nasty one too. Like someone just tried to get as much as his arse cheek in his mouth at once.
Soap jabs Gaz in the ribs, "What the fuck?" Gaz hissed but Soap redirects his attention.
"Do you see that?'
"Ghosts ass? Yes I've seen it before." Gaz replies but Soap shakes his head.
"No you dumb fuck, look closer."
Gaz squints and gasps. "Oh my God."
Soap grins at him, "I know. Hold on, I'm gonna ask him about it."
"Soap-"
"Hey LT." Ghost turns his head, a single brow raised. Soap had never been more grateful that Ghost had decided to suck up the communal showers. For both this moment and not having to deal with the vague smell of his BO on the flight back to the U.K. “What's with the new tattoo?”
“Yeah my girl’s a biter.” It's said so simply, Ghost turns and resumes washing himself. The soap suds run down his body and into the drain. Like he didn’t just say the most confusing shite ever.
“What?” Gaz laughs, “A biter?” Ghost shrugs and it dawns on Soap that he’s going to pull that classic Ghost move of saying out of pocket shite ever and then not elaborate.
A few months pass and Soap would like to say that he’s forgotten about it. That the bite mark tattoo did not haunt him and he didn’t- doesn’t- look at Ghost’s left butt cheek and wonder. Then they get a new mission and its all hands on deck, another task force joins in. Task force Medea. The 141 had worked with them a few times in the past, all very successful missions. The Medea task force was made up of seven women with varying skills but one always came to mind whenever Soap thought of the task force his mind wandered to She-wolf.
You’re wild, feral almost to a degree that makes him wonder how you managed to stay in the military. But your team members love you and when you’re not gnawing at the collar your captain tries to keep on you, you’re an amazing soldier.
“For this mission,” Price begins, standing at the head of the meeting table. On one side is Gaz, Ghost, and him. On the other is you and three other members of your task force (Viper, Circe and Artemis). Soap splits his attention between Price’s briefing (A terrorist group and cartel are working together to smuggle both weapons and people across the Polish and the Slovakian border) and you. You’re tapping your finger inaudibly, you keep glancing between Price and Ghost.
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Despite having worked with you before, Soap tends to forget the gruesome details. Viper and Circe were brutal in their own right, both combining their skills to gas out anyone in the building, Artemis and Ghost picked off the ones that fled. Now it was down to you and Soap to help clear out the building of any stragglers. Soap knew he was good at clearing rooms, it's how he got his call sign after all. But much like your call sign, you were a wolf. Predatory, sneaky and brutal. If you were a dog, he was sure you would be foaming at the mouth.
Soap tries not to focus on the gory details of your current appearance, (blood flecks on your face, hands soaked with blood after you gutted a man twice your size like a fish, blood smears on your pant legs from a man choking on his own blood and grasping for any sort of life line while you sneer at him), and instead clearing out the last room. 
“Steamin’ jesus.” Soap mutters and Gaz noticeably averts his eyes. Ghost, however, sighs.
“Lieutenant.” You chirp as Viper hands you something to clean your face with.
“Do you ever not make a mess She-Wolf?” Ghost asks and you bark out a laugh as you wipe the dried blood from your face.
“Nope.” You quip as he just sighs and Soap turns his attention to Gaz who is certainly not looking like he was enjoying this any more then he was.
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Your fingers dig into his pecs as you pant, your thighs, already sore from the mission, scream. “Did you like seeing me like that?” You ask between pants as you bounce on Ghost’s thick cock. You swear you can feel every detail of it, the veins rubbing against your walls, his tip constantly swiping against your g-spot and the very weight of him. “Did you like seeing me covered in blood?” You ask again as his hands dig into the meat of your hips. You stare down into his eyes that are swallowed up by his blown out pupils as he nods, a whimper crawls up his throat as your nails dig into him further.
You lean over and scrape your teeth against the junction between his shoulder and neck, you revel in the way he shudders. You bite down right as the thread snaps inside you and you gush all over his cock. Your moan around him as your pussy pulses rhythmically around him, your hips slow only for a moment. Instead you grind your hips against his as the last few shocks of your orgasm echo through your body. Ghost doesn’t move as you ravish him further in marks all over him. You love that about him, that no one will know these marks are here but you. He covers himself up a nun and only you know that he’s under you every time.
Only you know that his voice cracks and he throws his head back as he fills you. “Fuuuckkk.” He whimpers, his voice cracking and breaking. Only you know this view, of tears nearly spilling from his eyes as his chest rises and falls faster as you push him further towards overstimulation. When your hips finally stop you collapse onto his chest, he holds you close as you trace the multitude of bite marks and crescent nail marks.
“Wish we got to see each other more often.” You whisper.
“We’ll see each other when leave comes around.” Ghost- Simon, reassures you.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice that little tattoo you have.” You tease and pinch his vulnerable nipple. He hisses and smacks your hand away while you giggle.
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coralinnii · 7 months
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❋ You said what now? ❋
↳ He accidentally found out your feelings
feat: Ruggie ⭑ Chenya ⭑ Lilia ⭑ Epel
genre: fluff (uhh for the most part), humour,
note: no pronouns used with the reader, no explicit spoilers for book 7 in Lilia’s section, reader is referred as human in Lilia’s section, reader is implied to be a first year in Epel’s section, bad cat-related wording in Chenya’s section
Fun fact: while not obvious in the English translation, if you listen to Chenya’s Japanese voice lines, he likes to say “nya” at the end of his sentences.
Will I keep that fact in mind anytime Chenya pops up? Absolutely.
Also, I just started my college classes again last week (which is why I didn’t post last week). All of my classes are dense with text and quizzes so…I need to study real hard which will most likely eat up my time for writing. Good ol’ inconsistent me~
Although, I’m taking History and we focus a bit on the age of nobility and old kingdoms…so maybe some inspiration for my villain/ess!au series (or maybe not cuz history is weirder than one thinks…)
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How it happened
Perhaps a little sneaky, Ruggie is someone reliable, resourceful, and fun to be around. You started to fall for him and even that sneaky side of his became endearing to you.
But bigger, financial priorities occupy the hyena beastman’s mind more than anything else. Unless he can make a madol from it or get a freebie, his interest in anything else is seemingly non-existent. It was rather easy to keep your feelings to yourself when the topic of love rarely, if ever, comes up.
So it came to a surprise to you when the shaggy-haired sophomore mentioned his coworkers at a part-time job he picked up in town.
He started ranting about how a duo at his workplace started an unlikely relationship a few days ago. According to him, the two were from two different worlds and didn’t appear to be either of their types.
“Doesn’t make any sense if you ask me” he mumbled, scratching his fluffy head by the sudden revelation at his job.
You nodded and hummed as he recounted his workday with you, but in all honesty, you didn’t share his confusion over the so-called sudden pairing. By the way Ruggie described the couple, it does sound like their personalities wouldn’t mesh well and would theoretically clash too much for anything to bloom between them.
But attraction follows no simple formula. No one can stop themselves from falling for someone. You yourself were an example.
“Love is never predictable, Ruggie.” you commented without thinking, perhaps too distracted by the cute love story of Ruggie’s coworkers or it could be that you’re drowning in the warm feelings from being so close to your crush that your mouth is running too comfortably on its own. “I mean, I never thought you were my type but I still ended up-“
You shut your mouth before you could finish but looking at the wide-eyed expression on Ruggie’s face, the effort was moot.
“You still ended up?”
…Shoot.
What happens now?
Colour him shocked. Ruggie never entertained the idea that you would like him, out of all people.
He could’ve pretended not to figure it out, or convince himself that it was a misunderstanding. But he knew when he saw your flustered embarrassment and your cute stuttering trying to come up with an excuse, there was no misunderstanding. You like him.
Ruggie has a good amount of ego and he wouldn’t downplay his boyish good looks (odds are it got him out of a few close calls), but in a school of celebrities, royalty, and guys with money coming out the wazoo? He knows when he’s outmatched.
To be honest, his brain froze for a moment at your slip up. He clutched his heart which stuttered out of beat, his ears and tail stood in attention like a meerkat. Jack was worried watching his upperclassman in such a daze while folding laundry, heck it even got Leona raising a brow over the uncharacteristic clocked out look on his shorter dormmate.
But, Ruggie is a workaholic hyena. Always planning his way to work up the ladder to earn some good madol. Even if he likes the idea of making a family of his own, romance wasn’t in his peripheral vision at the moment. Not while he’s working multiple jobs at once. He would honestly feel a little bad because he knows he’ll end up ignoring any poor soul stuck with him.
As bad as it is, he might at first think to pretend he heard nothing about your feelings. He couldn’t bring himself to make you go through that, to be in a relationship where work takes precedence over you.
But then he thought it wouldn’t be so bad…snuggling up to you during one of his rare free time. Maybe you’re the type to surprise him with lunch and he could rest on your lap while you brush his hair. Would you maybe rub his sore muscles after an arduous club training session? Having boyfriend privileges means no one can complain when he slides up to your side, keeping your attention to himself without having to share…
Screw it, he’ll figure something out. He’s a greedy hyena through and through
Shyeheehee! Better be ready for what you’re asking for. Once I’ve set my eyes on something, I’m not lettin’ it get away!
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How it happened
This man is a literal magic trick, appearing and disappearing to revel in the shock of his unsuspecting audience. As elusive as he is, the times he does show up brings a shock of joy and excitement to you.
It seems that the purple-haired student has made it a habit to join the Heartslabyul’s unbirthday parties from time to time, enjoying the occasional chaos and keeping you company to your conflicted delight.
You didn’t know why but Chenya made it his mission to fluster you every chance he gets, with cheeky comments and sly touches as he leads you away from incoming mishaps such as a stray splash of paint or a flying slice of cake. You don’t know why but the cat-like menace has taken a shine to teasing you out of the blue. Sometimes he would suddenly whisper nonsensical riddles into your ear, or tap your shoulder to then poke your cheek as you turn. Small silly pranks that should annoy you but your body becomes filled with butterflies when he smiles that charming grin at you.
How maddening, you thought as you fell for another sneaky surprise from the impish beastman. Once again, Chenya appeared right behind you, smiling just over your shoulder which gave you and your friends a fright (for different reasons) to which he took pleasure in, judging from the mischievous grin on his lips.
Your shouting caught the attention of the other Heartslabyul students and recognizing the white jacket and castle emblem, their eyes boiled with competitive rage. An RSA student? On Night Raven territory?!
“Ah, looks like fun time is over. I’ll just show meowself out~” and like a mirage, Chenya’s figure disappeared as the NRC students failed to catch even a strand of his fur. Not even when he took a second longer to fade out just so he could teasingly tickle the tip of your nose with his fluffy striped tail.
The students kept on making a fuss, eager to teach the mischief maker a lesson for trespassing on rival territory. You sighed at the wasteful effort, assuming that Chenya would be smart enough to have left long ago.
“Why must my crush be such a frustrating person?” Angry hollers and Riddle’s commanding cease-and-desist orders overwhelmed your tired voice, and your soft words ended up softly carried off into the wind.
But your words caught the interest of a curious ear before it disappeared.
What happens now?
Curiouser and curiouser. He was not expecting such a confession. Though to be fair, he supposed you didn’t mean for anyone to hear it.
Chenya found joy being in your company. The shock in your bright eyes followed by your cute laugh sends a warm, giddy feeling in his heart that he just could not stop. He had a feeling he knew what these feelings could be but he was content with what he could get in the rare moments he can see you.
But now, when he realized what your cute reactions meant? That sends whole new exciting feelings within him. It’s fuzzy and warm as usual, but now also shocking and thrilling. The sneaky beastman is grinning for more than one reason now.
He won’t immediately confess back. Considering this wonderful predicament where you don’t know he knows of your affections, his playful nature compels him to milk the fun of this situation for all its worth.
If you thought his cheeky antics were bad enough, you haven’t seen his flirty side till now. Playful taps on the shoulders become sneaky grabs by the waist, and just when you think he’s gone, his signature grin would grace your vision as he fades into view, a little too close to your own face. Sometimes when he feels emboldened, Chenya would sweep you off your feet for a spontaneous walk along the sweet breeze.
When you’re finally at your wit’s end, when all his teasing and heart-fluttering gestures fills you to the point of combusting in flustered frustration, that’s when he’ll finally tell you his reciprocated feelings, perhaps while stealing a quick kiss when you least suspect it. All to see that terribly adorable look on your pretty face.
Every adventure requires a first step. I’m excited to see where we’ll go together from meow on~
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How it happened
See, you thought he already knew. You swore he did. Why else would he tease you so much with his sweet compliments and flirty jokes? The mysterious senior spoke to you as though you were a naive child crushing on their older peer, which you supposed wasn’t entirely wrong.
The way he treated you with so much care and love that you wondered if he already suspected of your feelings and was being considerate to you. He listens to your rambles as though he has all the time in the world for you, compliments you on your achievements as though he’s genuinely proud of your hard work, and he jokes with you with that boyish charm of his. But the scarlet-eyed fae never pursued further with advances with you, which made you think that perhaps this was just who Lilia was, a strange but friendly man, unwilling to hurt your feelings. Were you grasping at straws and misconstruing his intentions?
With a heavy heart, you tried your best to give up your hopes but maintained a cordial bond with Lilia, not wanting to avoid the jovial fae so suddenly (well, without having to explain why anyways)
But one day, when you were walking with the smiling senior, he started talking about a souvenir shirt that Kalim had given him during their club meeting. It was a shirt patterned erratically with various colours and pictures of tiny bats littered about. It was an eccentric visual of fabric but it strangely fits the equally eccentric man.
“What are your thoughts? Would I not look absolutely adorable in this?” Lilia asked, holding the shirt in front in his uniform with a boyish smile, his fangs peeking out slightly. But you rolled your eyes as you sighed exasperated by this man’s antics.
“Don’t you think that’s unfair for you to ask me?” You looked at him with a pout, somewhat irritated at the mature fae you’re trying to get over. “Of course I’d said you would, considering how much I like you”
For a rare moment, Lilia turned wide-eyed at your words. “Pardon? Do you by chance… harbour feelings for me?”
Turns out, he didn’t know at all
What happens now?
Guess you can still surprise this old man. He had his suspicions but for all he knew that was how the youth were these days. He was fond of your shy expressions whenever he was around and he could hear the quickening of your heartbeat, but he didn’t want to assume. Perhaps you were just more on the skittish side.
In the centuries he lived, he saw love in many forms. In the recent centuries he lived, he got to experience some of those forms of love he’s seen, with the pain and joy that comes with it. To him, it couldn’t ask for more as he lives out the last few centuries he has left.
You however, were still vibrant like a freshly bloomed flower in its prime. Was that why he just couldn’t take his eyes off you? He couldn’t help but watch in admiration as you lived with almost enviable vigour. He felt pulled, entranced to be by your side for even just a moment, just to see that beautiful gleam of life (and love, he realized) in your eyes.
But Lilia felt a beat of guilt in his heart. Your life is so short in comparison to his own. You should be sharing your youth with someone as brilliant as yourself, not pining over an old soul like himself. Humans are fickle creatures but he supposed with such short lives, it’s best to be curious and experience all one can without regrets.
He would be honest with you, sharing his thoughts with you as though warning that your affections were better spent with someone that suited you better. It would be up to you to convince the stubborn fae that he was your choice, that you already decided he suited you just fine. All you’re asking from him is if he shared the same feelings as you did.
“I may have tried to get rid of my feelings before, but I’m choosing not to run away this time,” in your eyes, Lilia sees that same vibrant gleam that mesmerized him, almost breathing a new sense of life into him. “All I ask is if you feel the same way”
And he does. He’s lying to himself if he hasn't thought of a life with you where he could steal surprise kisses throughout the day, where he could bring you to soar through the night skies as he takes you to explore the world with him. He imagines a life of silliness but also a life of blissful content as he gazes at you like a beacon of light in his life, a new reason to live a bit longer.
Lilia feels ensnared by love once more, but the burning warmth in his soul is just too invigorating. He’s looking forward to this new chapter in his life, with you.
I do hope you’ve prepared yourself, my dear. Eternal love with a fae should not be taken lightly. But rest assured, I look forward to our new adventure
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How it happened
You were Epel’s close friend and confidant, someone who he can share his achievements and woes with. Being so new to the college, the two of you depend on each other through thick or thin and along the way, you grew to see the lavender-haired freshman as more than just a companion.
He has a bit of a temper and is quick to the jump at times, but he was always there for you and even though he doesn’t always see eye-to-eye with them at times, he respects his seniors and takes their lessons to heart.
When he talks about how much he dislikes his height or his feminine features, you nodded along for his sake but you couldn’t tell him that you were actually in disagreement. You adore his fluffy locks that you occasionally got to touch with his permission and his light blue eyes felt like calming waves of the purest lake. Epel constantly swore to you that he’ll have his growth spurt and will even tower Leona in height, but you like how you could hold him close to you without issue.
You love all that he is, even if he’s not too keen on some parts himself
But you kept this all to yourself. You thought Epel had other priorities on his mind and you were scared that confessing would ruin the friendship you’d built with him. For now, you were content to be by his side for however long you can.
You were dead tired during a particularly harsh Flying class with Coach Vargas and you were barely conscious enough to keep your eyes open. It took everything you had to just nod along to whatever Epel was saying, something about some Savanaclaw students?
“Who they think they are, callin’ me cute like that? I outta rip off their yapper for underestimatin’ me.” You weren’t helping his point when you thought how cute his accent was as he grumbled about his day. You were falling in and out of consciousness but thought you should at least reply back to your friend…anything at all…
“I’m sorry…that happened…even though…I think…you’re really cute…”
You were already out cold to notice your friend frozen in place as you finished your drowsy comment, your head landing on his stiff shoulders.
What happens now?
ALDFIUAHLBWAIGLH
Congratulations, you broke your friend and you don’t even remember it. When you woke up, you couldn’t figure out why Epel was as bright red as his hometown’s apples. Epel couldn’t even bring it up without getting too tongue-tied, his accent sputtering out incomprehensible words.
The blue-eyed freshman was raking his brain for an explanation. You thought he was cute…really cute to be precise, but what does that mean? Did you like him? As in like-like him? Is it normal for non-countryside folk to just say something like that? But most students around here tend to mean it like an insult but you weren’t like them, you would never do that to him. So what did you mean by it??
Left without a choice, Epel thought about who he could ask about this, maybe one of his seniors. But he immediately reconsidered when he realized who his seniors were (Vil and Rook will never let this go and there’s no way Leona would entertain this conversation) and turned to the only adult he can trust, his meemaw.
In his letter, he asked his grandma what it means when someone you cherish calls you cute (not mentioning who) and after a few days of fidgeting and awkward encounters with very confused you, he finally got an answer from her.
“STOP SITTIN’ ON YOUR KEISTER TWIDDLIN’ ‘ER THUMBS! GO AND ASK, DAGNABBIT!”
And that’s how you were confronted by a flustered Epel about your cute comment one random school day. To be fair, you probably didn’t fare any better when you realized you let your thoughts slip out.
You may have confessed your attraction to him but Epel can still be the first to make the first move. Relationships and dating are all new to the petite freshman and honestly he felt a little weak in the knees, all the nerves wracking his body like his first broom ride. But the past few days, he couldn’t stop thinking about being with you, sweeping you off your feet, impressing you the only way he can, to have your eyes solely on him like he does when you’re around. Heck, he thought what it’d be like to grow old with you, holding you like no one else can as you spend day and night by each other’s side. All these thoughts and more is what spur him to take the next step.
I ain’t too great on love and romance, but I’ll work hard to show ya how much ya mean to me. I promise that!
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stevebabey · 6 months
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this is pure stupid hell crack that took more time than it should’ve to finish BUT i’m ready 2 release it from my drafts <3 this is actually technically written partially w @corrodedcoughin in mind bcos i think u will mighty enjoy it! for cockney eddie!
It comes with the territory, the accents.
Drama kid or dungeon-master, either one could be credited with contributing heavily to his affinity for all of Eddie’s little voices.
There was the deep, low raspy one reserved for trolls in campaigns — and a nasally high one he used for goblins to pair. Wise wizards giving out crucial advice sometimes had a strong Scottish drawl to their words. And Dwarfs? Always English.
So, yeah, Eddie has a couple different accents in his different repertoire. Pulls them out as he needs — a regal tone when referring to Hawkin’s very own royalty or a buried Southern twang used when he’s in trouble with Wayne. The most common is a shoddy Cockney accent for when any conversation dips too far towards awkward or boring.
It's why it's not so surprising anymore when they just... slip out sometimes.
He's learned more now, when specifically not to do it (Mrs. Donnell had not found his plea for a re-sit, in a heavy Irish accent, endearing in the slightest). But with friends who know Eddie, they know the accents come along too.
Steve fucking loves them.
The first time one had taken over his voice, some New Yorker twang to carry a joke, Steve had laughed so hard he’d snorted. And god, had Eddie lit up at the noise— loved knowing that, deep down Steve Harrington had a delicious wonderful ugly laugh that he only showed to people he trusted.
Basically, it’s hardly news to Steve then, all of Eddie’s little voices.
But well, even Eddie didn’t expect… okay, the truth is he never expected to be in this situation at all.
It’s a Wednesday evening when it happens. Steve is over round the trailer like he is every Wednesday, keeping Eddie company while Wayne is out on the double night shift.
It originally had started out as ensuring wounds were checked and dressed properly — considering half of them had scaled up his back, where Eddie couldn’t reach — for the both of them. Then, when technically Eddie could manage the worst of his words, Steve was still coming around. Dustin’s insistence, he’d said.
Then it was… because Eddie asked Steve to come around, to stay a little longer.
So, Steve Harrington is in his kitchen and it’s a Wednesday ritual that they have together and that’s not even the weird part of the evening.
(And somehow, neither is the fact that Steve is, as of a few months ago, his boyfriend.)
Steve’s cooking. Something simmers low on the scarlet glowing hob, bubbling quietly and releasing aromas of spices that percolate into the Autumn evening air.
Eddie feels his stomach growl in its own twist of hunger as he follows his nose. With one hand still scrubbing a towel against his wet hair, he ambles down the hall, fresh out the shower, ready for love — be it the form of food or, he thinks giddily, kisses.
Steve’s not watching the food as Eddie enters, his eyes fixed somewhere across the room. There’s a crease between his eyebrows, an indication of his deep thought.
Eddie grins, approaching without any attempt of being sneaky, (Steve’s as good as comatose when he’s distracted as he’d found) and jabs his boyfriend’s calf with his toe.
“Thinking mighty hard there, Stevie. That’s dangerous.”
Steve jolts, snapping out of his thoughts. He straightens up automatically, then seems to recall the company he’s keeping, and relaxes back down.
He scowls affectionately at Eddie’s barefoot, still jabbing into his leg, and reaches out to flick it with his finger.
“Dickhead.”
Eddie’s faster. He dances away and laughs at the instinctual pout that forms on Steve’s lips.
“What ponders thy mind, hm?” Eddie drawls, a lilt of a Regency style accent in his voice. He sinks into one of the kitchen chairs and drops his task. The towel hangs over his neck, his damp curls resting against it.
Steve seems to jolt again at that, his shoulders rising for a moment. He spins, picking up the wooden spoon beside the stove to swirl the contents of their dinner around. Eddie admires him, broad shoulders and long back, ripe for his taking. Silently, he sighs dreamily on the inside.
“Just… what movie we’re gonna watch tonight.” Steve says unconvincingly. “I’m not doing another re-watch of the Fly.” He adds lamely, an attempt at his usual bitch.
Eddie lets him have it. With one final squeeze of the towel, trying to wring out all the droplets in his hair, Eddie abandons it on the chair as he stands. He waltzes forward, into Steve’s space, and hooks his chin over the other's shoulder.
“You know, that’s what you said last time.”
Steve side-eyes him, his eyes narrowing into a minuscule glare; bitch personified. Eddie grins. Then bats his eyelashes.
It makes Steve laugh, shrugging Eddie’s weight off politely as he gives their dinner another stir. There’s still this tenseness to his frame. Though, maybe it's one Eddie can only notice because he’s paying such close attention.
“Alrightttttt,” He pretends to relent dramatically, his hands coming up to give Steve’s shoulders a quick squeeze. “I’ll let you pick the movie tonight.”
He drops his hands back to his sides, smarmy grin already plastered on as Steve turns to face him, the wooden spoon placed down on the bench.
“Oh, you’ll let me, will you?” He gives this incredulous look, even if there is this playfulness toying at the corners at his lips.
“Uh huh,” Eddie affirms with a severe nod, then begins counting on his fingers as he lists off. “No badgering, wailing, complaining, of any sorts I—“
Suddenly, Steve’s reaching out, his deft hands reaching out to snag the waistband of Eddie’s pyjama pants. It supposed to be a smooth move he’s used countless times before; fingers looped through belt loops to pull a girl in for a kiss. It usually works like a charm.
Except, there’s no belt loops— and when Steve tucks his fingers beneath the waistband and tugs him forward, Eddie shrieks.
“Fucking christ, Steve!” He bats Steve’s hands back without thinking. Steve holds them up defensively.
“Sorry! I was just—”
“What are you doing sticking your hands in my pants?!”
“It was a move!” Steve insists, voice a little whiney. “God, you’re dramatic- I was trying to pull you closer, numb-nuts.”
“Oooh,” Eddie switches up in an instant, hands shooting out to grab Steve’s own. He pulls them forward and settles them on his own waist, shuffling in closer like he hadn’t just shrieked a minute earlier. “Continue.”
Steve chuckles, delight peeking through on his face. His hands, large and slender, curl around the skin of Eddie’s waist and Christ, he’s still not used to that. Eddie’s too focused on repressing his shiver to see the shadow of nervousness cross Steve’s face.
“I was actually thinkin’ about,” Steve starts lowly, eyes skirting off Eddie’s face, over his shoulder. His fingers tighten their grip. “How—”
He sucks in a breath, like drawing in courage, and meets Eddie’s gaze. “About how much I love you.”
There’s the smallest tremble to his voice, giving away the immense emotion behind the words.
And here’s the situation that Eddie never expected to be in, ever. His breath catches, his eyes widen — his heartstrings tangle and knot themselves as he soaks in Steve’s admittance. Love, love, love — he loves me.
His lips part, a raspy noise escaping as he tries to compute, tries to think of anything to say because the longer he stays silent, the more crushed Steve’s expression becomes. And then—
“Well, I luv ya too.”
The words fall out, thick in that godawful Cockney accent.
Steve's face doesn't change but Eddie's does, contorting in an amalgamation of pure cringe and panic as embarrassment crawls beneath his skin. He slaps his hand over his own mouth as if it can take back his awful reply to being told he's loved by Steve.
"I—" He starts, speaking through his fingers, except it still comes out in a funny accent. Eddie squeaks, his grip over his mouth tightening, brown eyes wide in his panic. Oh God, never in stupid silly life has his accents come back to bite him in the ass so magnificently.
"I'm so sorry," Eddie whispers-yells in his regular voice, finally dragging his hands off his face sluggishly. "Jesus H Christ, I didn't— that wasn't making fun of you, I— oh god, you know that happens when I'm nervous sometimes. Shit. Shit, I'm so sorry, Steve."
Steve hasn't moved, his hands still resting on the small of Eddie's waist. His expression is guarded, nothing betrayed. His dark eyes scan across Eddie's face and just before he speaks, the smallest glimmer of amusement glitters across his face.
"Well," Steve begins, heaving a faux large sigh. His hands squeeze comfortingly at Eddie's waist again. Eddie who is still frozen, still cursing himself internally, still echoing around the apparently true fact that Steve loves him— well, maybe not anymore with how awfully Eddie responded.
And then Steve opens his mouth and the most appalling attempt at some accent comes out. It makes his words all garbled and Steve's pink in the face, obviously embarrassed but trying to commit to some shoddy Scottish when he says, "Aye, that's al'right."
Eddie stares at him. Steve stares back.
The moment of silence is broken as laughter seizes him, a guffaw bursting from his lips and holy fuck, Eddie loves him so much. Steve laughs too, the two of them relaxing and sinking into one another. Eddie's hands, previously fluttering and unsure, find their natural place curled in underneath Steve's jaw and when he leans in, he's fighting off his laughter. His grin is unbearably wide, cheeks aching.
Steve's got this shine in his eye, his hands sliding further around to pull Eddie in closer, his pink lips quirked in delight. Eddie practically purrs, so close to kissing him but not quite closing the gap.
"Yep," He says, eyes bright as they bounce over Steve's face to drink in his boyfriend's love-soaked expression. He loves him. Steve loves him. Eddie sounds as lovesick as he feels when he whispers, "It's decided. I think you're it for me, Stevie-baby."
He presses forward, lets his mouth find their home in the curve of Steve's lips. It's warm like nothing he's ever felt before, softened by their gooey-grins of love. It's an in love kiss.
"Even if you're terrible at accents." He murmurs against Steve's mouth.
"Shut up."
Steve hisses, but he’s still grinning. The dinner bubbles behind them, still cooking away behind them. "Like I'm ever going to let you live that down."
Eddie finds he doesn't really mind all that much — God forbid his boyfriend ever remind him they're in love.
"Shut up," He still says, then sticks out his tongue, like he's ten years old. "You love me."
"I do." Steve admits easily, his fingertips dancing along the small of Eddie's back. Eddie has to tuck his bottom lip behind his teeth to restrain his wild grin.
"And I love you." He says, properly this time, jabbing his finger into Steve's chest — so there's no absolutely mistaking it.
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yxami · 9 months
Text
Fighting the urge to not write a quiet hybrid guy and I failed
description: yandere octopus hybrid x gn merperson reader, getting trapped in his trap, him tasting you, umm idk what else, also normally I stick to facts about the animals I write as hybrids but I changed some stuff about him like his tongue being soft bc would it be hot if a sandpaper tongue was licking u? LMAOO
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Kioshi was a sea creature, an octopus and you’re just a random merperson who happened to run into his sticky trap that was intended for prey. So he’s just scanning you at every angle available to him, swiftly swimming around to see if you were going to be a problem to deal with.
He never really interacted with any merfolk before so your silent empty stare confused him enough to mentally ask himself questions. Was he supposed to let you out? Could he eat you? Were you tasty?
The curious octopus wrapped his arms around you, the suckers on his tentacles staying in one place with the grip they had on your body. Was he tasting you?? What was this weird octopus guy doing!!
“Hello?? What are you doing” You glared at his tentacles that sneaked their way through his own kelp trap to touch and stick on you. It was almost like he was trying to sample you, to see if you could be his dinner tonight.
He quietly hummed, pondering if you were even edible. You tasted.. fishy. It would be ironic for merfolk not to have a salty taste to them. What did he expect after all? The two of you were in the ocean for crying out loud!
“You taste weird, can you even fit in my mouth” Kioshi opened his mouth, his fangs and 2 rows of teeth showing brightly. The vibrant pink tongue that slipped out his mouth looked long and soft. He apparently had no shame in showing his interest to eat you.
“I’m a merperson! And no you can’t eat me! I wouldn’t go up to you and ask if I could eat you” The hiss that left your lips and confidence had him more intrigued than before.
He disassembled his kelp trap with a tug of one of the kelp that wrapped around a nearby giant rock. Once you were let free you stretched, liking how much freedom you had now. It almost pissed you off remembering that you were in there for the entirety of this conversation.
“I’ll give you some shiny pearls if you keep letting me taste you” Kioshi dug in a pouch he carried around his waist, scooping out a few beautiful pink pearls that made your eyes shimmer with adoration. You were always a sucker for pretty things, every merperson was!
“Fine” You mumbled, sitting on a rock, your soft hands holding onto it as a handle while he wrapped his tentacles around you. He wasn’t sure why he was so interested in you, yeah he doesn’t see merfolk often but you peaked his interest for another reason. One that he was clueless about as well.
But he doesn’t try to fret over it, when he likes something, he takes it for himself. And you were pretty, really pretty. Your scales provided a glistening view, the sun helping accentuate the natural shine they had. Each scale was shiny and bright, he loved shiny things. Maybe you were meant to be his little treasure to take home!
You obediently sat while he seemed lost in thought, wrapping his sneaky tentacles around you, every sucker providing a squishy suction on your skin, almost felt like kisses running along your torso and arms. You could even feel his breath on your neck while he seemed to taste you there with his mouth. You pondered whether he would leave marks or not.
“You taste nice” Kioshi murmured, causing marks around your waist and chest.
“Well there’s that answer” You mentally said to yourself, looking down at the almost identical looking hickey marks on your body after his tentacles slipped away. He must’ve been too focused on tasting you to be gentle.
“Sorry..” He whispered, putting his tongue against your stomach’s skin to lick at the marks. You jumped at the feeling with a flustered expression, his hands rested around your hips while he continued.
“I think they’ll fade on their own.. You don’t have to lick them!” You bit your lip, trying to hold in the whimper you were about to let out from the strange sensation of his tongue running along your stomach.
“Oh.. okay. I’ll pay attention more next time” He blinked with no embarrassment that he shamelessly licked and tasted your skin. He sat next to you, leaning against your side, watching fish run around and play.
Next time? There was going to be a next time? You thought to yourself, wondering why he was so confident yet so nonchalant with his words that it just seemed natural to slip from his lips.
Kioshi pondered, trying to think of something else to say. He didn’t want to end the conversation here, he liked this interaction, even if it was just a trade between the two of you. Your flustered reactions and looks made him smile when you weren’t looking. He liked you already.
“So, I’ve never seen you here. Are you just passing through this area?” He faced you, observing your deep colored eyes compared to the bright waters around the two of you.
“Nah, I live around here, I just don’t usually wander off too far from my cave” You explained as you stared at his veiny hands that pressed down against the smooth rock. He seemed interested enough in your words to lean closer, his eyes scanning yours and especially at your lips.
“Huh, that’s cool” He softly said, wanting to say more but unsure of what. Should he ask if he could visit you sometime? Maybe offer to show you his cave? He wanted to ask something but his mind couldn’t set on a thought, causing you to speak after a few moments.
“So, what about you? Where do you live?” You yawned, making sure you weren’t out too late by looking at the sun that was close to set. It would be bad if you were out when the moon was down. You never got used to all the creatures that would appear in the dark waves that strolled by. It gave you goosebumps just thinking of the strange faces.
“Right over there, I don’t set my trap up too far incase it’s something big” Kioshi let out a small giggle, the fact you were in his trap today and definitely bigger than the average fish he expected made it more funny.
“Must’ve lucked out today then huh?” You playfully rolled your eyes at him laughing at his words.
“Mhm” He grinned, adding in a nod as well while he spoke. “How about I treat you to some food since I captured you?” He casually offered, as if he wasn’t trying to rack his brain about how to word it before. He wasn’t that good with speaking with others, never really interacted with other creatures in the first place, until now!
“Sure, you totally owe me after-all” You smiled, hopping off the rock to swim in-front of him. He got off the almost cliff looking rock as well and started leading you to his place. Not that far, just like he said. When the two of you closed the distance between his home you observed how nicely decorated it was. Lots of shiny things in a wooden chest he had, a soft looking bed and cute trinkets placed along the walls. It was big so the fact that he filled it up nicely was impressing.
“How about some crab?” He said, poking at the live crabs he had in another slightly different trap, the knots and twists being almost identical to the one you were in. He seemed to use traps to catch all his food instead of chasing it himself.
“Sure! How are you gonna cook it?” You asked curious, swimming around him in circles to see what he was doing. You were able to witness him grabbing the trap brimming with crabs and bringing them up to the end of the cave, there you were able to see that the roof went further up. He seemed to almost disappear after climbing up onto something.
You popped your head up the water to see this was his kitchen area, it had pots and pans hanging on hooks and a small dinner table with a few seats. His place was bigger than you imagined, it had an area with no water that connected to the ocean after-all.
“Gonna boil them?” You looked curiously at him grabbing a pot and sliding over back to the large opening in the floor to the rest of his home, collecting ocean water in it. “Yup” Kioshi softly said, putting the pot down on a metal grill. He seemed to have lots of kitchen supplies, it made your curious to whether he stole it from humans.
You had your own little collection stolen from humans but definitely not a entire room’s worth, not yet anyways. You were curious enough to want to ask Kioshi more questions about him, but decided not to.
The boiled crabs poured into a glass bowl in-front of you made you drool almost instinctively, as if you’ve always known his cooking. You stared at the bowl first, noticing that it was expensive looking and had cracks, he must’ve glued it back together.
He sat down in front of you, pondering on why you were staring at the bowl instead of the cooked crabs you could be eating, was it not appetizing? Should he cook something else? He twiddled his thumbs against each other while trying to think of whether he should speak up.
Kioshi opened his mouth to speak but you paused the words from leaving his mouth with a happy hum. “It’s so good!!!” You muffled with crab meat in your mouth, once you managed to chew and swallow a few more pieces.
“Thanks Kioshi! You’re so good at cooking” You cleared your throat, looking up at him with another opened crab leg.
“No problem” He mumbled, feeling his face heat up. He wasn’t sure why he had the sudden urge to keep you in his cave forever, for you to become his mate and be devoted to him as he would with you. Maybe it was because he didn’t have one yet, or possibly because you were perfect for him.
He’d find a way to keep you here, whether that would be pearls, his cooking, or anything he could possibly steal from humans, he’d do it.
2K notes · View notes
rene-darling · 1 year
Text
BOY- you just my sneaky link
...how are they after being fucked dumb by their sneaky link? Hinted that they have more feelings for you than just being sneaky links
...cyno...kazuha...xiao...tighnari...
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Cyno
He doesn't call you often but when he does he really needs you
He needs you to fuck him until he's a crying sobbing mess until he forgets all about being the general mahamatra
Because he's too fucked dumb to think he sleeps over at your house he enjoys the feeling of sleeping in the same bed as someone else it's comforting to him it makes him forget about all the awful stares he gets from people the look of horror. He likes- no loves how you don't look at him with fear
Even tho he sleeps over at your house he's always and I mean always gone before you wake up he leaves at the ass crack of sunlight
He secretly wants to stay for longer or at least until you wake up and maybe... have breakfast with you? But he's just unsure of himself or what he would do so if you want him to stay you'll have to fuck him until the ass crack of sunlight ahem you'll have to ask him before he drifts to sleep
Kazuha
He always sleeps over at your house like always
When he wakes up from out of nowhere he pulls out a hairbrush and starts combing his hair then he treats himself to a nice long bath in your bathroom
After his long bath, he decides to raid your kitchen and makes breakfast for the both of you no matter how fucked dumb he might be the night before he's always chill about it in the morning
If there's nothing in your fridge then he orders food from outside and uses your money to pay for it he swears up and down he'll repay you but he never does
He always leaves bits and pieces of his clothes around your house before he leaves to the point where whenever he comes again he dosen't need to borrow your clothes cuz he basically has a closet full of his own
Keyword doesn't need to it doesn't mean that he will oh no he always leaves your house wearing one of your clothes t-shirts hoodies etc he'll always wear something of yours he likes the smell of you covering his body whole
Xiao
Xiao does not contact you until he is actually at his limit his karmic dept feels too much he wishes to forget it even if only for a few hours
He wants to be fucked out of his brain to be fucked dumb until he's numb until his brain feels mushy and he passes out from overstimulation and exhaustion
If he wasn't fucked dumb until the sun raised then he would leave at the earliest sight of daylight but since he's fucked past that he doesn't leave as soon as the suns up
Tho sadly he always leaves as soon as he gets up much to your dismay
You urge him to leave whenever he feels like it but xiao is too nervous when his vision is not clouded by lust
Over time he only gets comfortable enough to take a nice shower in your bathroom but that's about it after he's done he puts on clothes and books it
He feels not worthy, not deserving of being closer with you other than mindless fucking he sometimes finds his mind wandering to..what if you and him were closer what if you and him were together...would you hold him in your arms after a session would you kiss him more passionately..no. he stops himself from thinking any further as he is not deserving of your love and care
But sometimes... he finds himself indulging in his wants as he holds your hand close to him while and after he drifts to sleep
Tighnari
He doesn't call you frequently but unlike some of the other boys it isn't all that rare for him to call you
When treating people because they won't listen to him and keep eating random mushrooms gets too tough he seeks you out as a relaxation method though he seems very noticeably tired to everyone around him
Collei sometimes points it out and asks him why has he been limping all day?? Why are his ears so red...? Tighnari always passes it on as him feeling under the weather
After you finish one of your steamy sessions he always stays over and when you wake up you're greeted with the sight of him sitting butt-ass naked on your vanity and grooming his tail do not question him he will and has throw a brush at you
After he demands you make him breakfast as he's too tired while he forces you to make him food as he spends his time grooming his hair and tail as it gets really frizzy after sex
When he arrives at your house he always brings a bag full of things like- he's gonna move in or something ?
Also someone who frequently takes your clothes tho when confronted fully denies it and claims it's not his problem that you're reckless and lost your hoodies
Listen he can't help it he wants to savor the smell of you..
8K notes · View notes
d1xonss · 1 month
Note
so ours babys a lil insecure bc of reader and his lil age gap he vents it to rick a little and since shes such a social butterfly literally talking and befriending everyone he gets upset and starts to think lowly of himself like theres younger men men who arent busy leading the community so they can spend all their time and affection on her blah blah he gets these crazy thoughts and she comforts him eases all his worries ):
Forever
✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader
✧ Era : Season 6
✧ Pronouns : she/her
✧ Genre : Angst/Fluff
✧ Word Count : 3.1k
AN ~ Aww sad:(( but we love Reader comforting Daryl, it's one of my favorite things to write. And an age gap too?? I love it. Hope you enjoy!
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“You’re ridiculous.” Rick spoke with a scoff.
Daryl’s eyes narrowed slightly at the man, not necessarily because of what he had claimed, but because it almost seemed like he hadn’t listened to him at all.
He already felt a little ashamed going to his friend in the first place to talk about how he was feeling, something the man rarely ever did. But that alone showed how desperate he seemed to be for any kind of advice, willing to put himself out there to express what had been going through his mind recently in hopes of some sort of reassurance.
He didn’t really know what had been going on with him recently, but ever since the group had made it to Alexandria, his insecurities slowly began to eat him alive. He started to take note of his appearance a little more, now that they actually had mirrors in the houses provided for them, seeing for himself how much older and tired he really was. It shouldn’t have bugged him as much as it did, but yet, it seemed to be all he thought about. And that constant loop of thoughts only traveled to another, thinking about how much living on the road seemed to age him, while the woman he was madly in love with stayed so young and beautiful.
She was absolutely perfect, not a single flaw, while he on the other hand had countless ones that he couldn’t seem to just get over and ignore. But that wasn’t the only aspect about her that seemed to cloud over his mind. She was quite the extrovert, making friends everywhere she turned as she was constantly radiating such a good and friendly energy. It even drew him in towards her from the start, falling victim to her charming personality. Though it wasn’t her kindness that made him a little more self conscious than before; it was the fact that a few younger men had obviously taken a liking to her natural sweetness ever since they moved here.
Now he knew that she would never cheat on him, the thought never even crossed her mind, but that still didn’t stop his jealousy from bubbling over to a point of no return. Wanting to beat the shit out of any guy who looked at her for just a little too long. He wasn’t blind by any means, and some of them had a hard time hiding the sneaky glances they were taking at his woman whilst she was just in her own little world.
Though the longer he seemed to stew over it for the months and months they had lived there, it made him start to wonder if maybe she would be better off with someone else. Someone a bit younger, more energetic, more outgoing. Someone that matched her personality better than he did. It was no secret that they were polar opposites, but he always imagined that they completed each other in a way, not even thinking twice about it. However, now that he had all the time in the world to think, it slowly started to consume him, thinking more about how he didn’t deserve her at all. But hell, maybe no one deserved her. 
The man then seemed to snap out of his thoughts, scoffing toward Rick who was looking at him with a small smile, “Man, m’ bein serious.” he grumbled.
“So am I.” Rick shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he tilted his head a bit at him, “I really don’t think you have anything to worry about man. You two are always attached at the hip, she loves you…I think you might just be in your own head about it.”
He sighed heavily as he thought to himself for another moment, his thumbnail in his mouth as he contemplated why he was confiding in Rick in the first place. At this point he had it in his head that the man was just telling him what he wanted to hear. “I dunno…” he eventually muttered in response.
Rick only shook his head, “You shouldn’t be so focused on this. You’ve always known how nice she is, everyone loves her-”
“Man, that ain’t the problem. I already told ya that.” Daryl interrupted with irritation in his voice.
“I know…I know.” he assured, “I guess I just don’t see the connection of how you came up with the idea that she suddenly deserves someone “better.”
The archer shook his head with a light scoff, “Seein her talkin with those guys…something kinda just clicked that she should be with someone more fit for her…” he trailed off for a moment, before pathetically shrugging his shoulders again, “I dunno.”
Rick honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Although, he could, he knew that Daryl sometimes got like this, thinking he didn’t deserve the things that he was given. But he never thought he would be standing here listening to him speak about how you would be better off with someone else. Anyone who even caught a glimpse of the two of you could easily see how in love you were with each other. He swore the sight could potentially make someone sick.
The man then cleared his throat, “Well…if you want to know what I think, I say you should talk to her.”
“Talk to her?”
Rick couldn’t help but laugh at how baffled he looked at the suggestion, “Yeah, talk to her. Besides, I think she’ll have a better chance at reassuring you about this than I will, she seems more fit for the role.” he joked.
But Daryl on the other hand scoffed, not exactly loving the idea, “This shit’s already embarrassing, why would I wanna bring it up to her? Didn’t even really wanna bring it up to you.”
“Thanks.” Rick said dryly before stepping closer to slap a hand on the man’s shoulder, “But just trust me on this, alright? You need to tell her how you’ve been feeling. Because if I know you at all, I know you want to keep this bottled up. But that’ll just make it worse and you know it.”
He was right. As much as Daryl hated to acknowledge it, he knew deep down he was right.
But that didn’t stop him from wanting to put it off every chance he got, pushing it into the back of his mind as he always seemed to do in hopes that it would just go away. Though he knew it wouldn’t, he couldn’t bring himself to want to think about it right now.
He went home later that night utterly defeated and clueless on how to even approach the topic in the first place. When the time dreadfully came around, how would he even bring it up? He was never good with words, especially when it came to something about how he was feeling. It was all just stupid and complicated in his mind, not knowing how to actually piece together the things he wanted her to know. But he knew he had to try.
The front door opened and shut with a small creak as he entered the house, kicking his dirty boots off to the side before he softly called out your name. But all was quiet, not a single sound of your voice calling back to him, to which he only assumed you were still out somewhere in the community. It wasn’t often you stayed out this late, but he silently knew that if someone needed the extra help, you would do it in a heartbeat.
The older man sighed deeply to himself before trudging up the stairs, wanting to get out of the filthy clothes he was trapped in before settling for the night, waiting for you to come home. He couldn’t ever really fall asleep without you there. He didn’t know if it was because he would always worry too much if you weren’t right beside him, or if he just physically needed your touch to relax, but it had to be somewhere in that ballpark. Perhaps both…definitely both.
He entered your shared bedroom with a tired huff, beginning to undo the buttons on his vest before folding it sloppily and setting it off to the side on the dresser. His hands then moved to peel off his dirty shirt that stuck to every part of his tanned skin, raising it over his head before throwing it in the hamper across the room to be washed. He ran his hands through his hair to get it out of his face as he crossed the space to get himself another pair of pants to sleep in, when suddenly his movements stopped short.
The tall, full length mirror that sat off in the corner quickly caught his attention as he saw just a brief glimpse of his reflection dancing behind the glass. He blinked a few times as he knew he shouldn’t look too close, knowing it was only going to add fuel to the already ongoing fire. But a part of him couldn’t help it, seeing as it was too late now that he had taken notice of a few new flaws he hadn’t spotted before. It was like some kind of sinkhole that he couldn’t escape from, looking over the things he hated the most about himself over and over again.
He slowly stepped closer toward the object even though he knew he shouldn’t, seeing himself a little more up close as the moonlight poured through the window just above him to illuminate his figure. His eyes scanned everything he could make out in the slight darkness, seeing the wrinkles that were now more prominent on his forehead. Seeing the dark circles under his eyes from the exhaustion and stress that had been weighing on him constantly. And seeing the scars that littered over his entire body.
“Daryl?”
The man nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of your soft voice from behind him, spinning around to see you standing in the doorway. Your eyes widened a little in surprise. Never had you recalled a single time where you had been able to catch him off guard, accidently sneak up on him enough to make his heart skip. He had always been aware of his surroundings, the man had the instincts of a goddamn cat. So to say you were surprised when he hovered about five feet in the air at your presence, would be an understatement.
You raised an eyebrow at him in slight concern, “You okay?” you asked softly as you approached him with hesitance.
Daryl’s stomach had plummeted to his ass, a heat rising in his cheeks from embarrassment as you caught him staring down at himself for a bit longer than usual. He swallowed thickly as he saw you walking further into the room, nodding a bit quickly, “Yeah…m’ fine.”
Though the way he spoke was far from convincing, his voice coming out a bit higher than usual, and the reassuring smile he tried to send your way being a little too forced for you not to realize. Your eyes narrowed toward him in slight suspicion as you came to stand right in front of him, taking in his appearance. There was something that was clearly circling his mind, you had noticed for far longer than he thought you did. But you always knew when there was something off about him.
You gently reached out to grab one of his hands in your own, “Come on…don’t lie to me.” 
He sighed softly, knowing that he should just bite the bullet and tell you, but he couldn’t bring himself to just yet. “Just…just had a rough day. That’s all.” 
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” you said with a slight shake of your head, watching as he furrowed his brows a little in question. “You’ve been acting off for weeks now, you really didn’t think I was going to notice?”
His eyes widened. Shit. 
A small smirk formed on your lips as you clearly saw that you had caught him in a little white lie. It was written all over his face. You squeezed his hand in reassurance, “I’m not upset…I just want you to talk to me.”
He knew he couldn’t avoid it forever, especially after Rick gave him that little wake up call earlier to just rip the bandage off. But he hoped he could put it off for at least a few more days, wanting a little more time to prepare the things he wanted to express to you honestly. Though he could tell just by the way you were looking up at him, that you wanted answers, and he couldn’t just ignore what was standing right before him.
He sighed softly as he looked at the ground for a moment, before slowly nodding his head, “Alright…” he started, not even knowing where to take this. “Look…maybe…maybe this ain’t workin.” he blurted without thinking.
Your eyes widened a little, “What?” 
Daryl’s eyes then grew as well realizing just how bad that sounded, quickly shaking his head, “No, no, I- I mean…that ain’t how I meant for it to sound at all.” he reassured, before taking another moment to collect his racing thoughts. “I’ve been…thinkin recently and…I ain’t gettin any younger. Hell, I feel like I aged five extra years just from bein out on the damn road for so long.”
You nodded along slowly, not really seeing where this was heading, “So?”
He sighed softly, “So…I’ve been thinkin bout how…maybe…ya deserve to be with someone a little more fit for ya. Someone younger than me…someone who can give ya what I can’t.” he spoke almost regrettably, like he dreaded even saying those words out loud in the first place.
The truth was, he never wanted to let you go, that was a knowing fact that didn’t need to be proved. But at the same time, he didn’t want to hold you back from a chance at a better life. One that you so clearly deserved.
But your expression seemed to soften drastically, now hearing his explanation out loud, it all seemed to click in your head. Why he had been acting off for the longest time, it was because he was just thinking too much about something that meant absolutely nothing. When you first noticed his odd behavior, you automatically assumed you had done something wrong without realizing. But now hearing it out loud, hearing how hurt he sounded, all you wanted to do was hold him and never let him go. Wanting to reassure him for the rest of your lives if you had to that he was truly the only man you would ever want.
A small huff passed through your lips, “Sweetie…that’s what this is about?”
Daryl shrugged a little in response, “Well…yeah. I’ve seen ya makin friends with a lot of the people round here…it just crossed my mind that…maybe-”
“Stop.” you said gently as you moved even closer to him, reaching up to give his arms a gentle squeeze, “Don’t say another word.”
His gaze softened as he stared down at you, regret filling him completely as he saw just how his words had affected you.
“I love you…so much.” you whispered as your gripped his arms a little tighter, “I’m not looking at anyone else…I don’t want anyone else. No one else on this whole damn planet would be a better fit for me than you. I don’t need some younger guy. I’m not even friends with them, they only come talk to me if they have a question about something. And most of them aren’t very bright.” you said bluntly, earning a small chuckle from him. “I just wish you had told me about this sooner.”
He bit his lip a bit shamefully, “I know…m’ sorry. I just thought…ya might be better off-”
“I won’t.” you insisted, “You’re all I will ever need…you hear me?”
A small smile grew on his face upon hearing that, knowing that you meant every word. Though there was still another thing hovering over his mind. “Even though m’ an old man?” he asked half heartedly, though a part of him was still serious.
You rolled your eyes a bit, “Just because you’re older than me doesn’t make you an old man.” you laughed softly, “But if that’s something you’re really worried about…I promise to stick around even when you’re eighty.” you winked.
His lip quirked up a bit in amusement as he reached out to place his hands on your hips, gently tugging you closer, “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” you nodded, “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”
You then felt his thumbs start to rub soothingly along your hip bones, still a little unsure if this was truly what you wanted. To be with someone like him. “Ya promise?” he eventually asked.
You tilted your head a bit at him, “Come on…what do I have to do to convince you that I want this forever?”
The man was silent for a long moment as he thought to himself, absentmindedly still running his thumbs along your hips as he stared down at you. The truth was he didn’t really need anymore convincing than what you had already told him. Just by the small bit of reassurance you provided, he felt as though he was lighter, a weight being lifted from his shoulders knowing you were his. But still, he couldn’t imagine a more perfect time to make it even more official.
“Marry me.”
Your eyes widened a little in surprise, not expecting him to be so blunt let alone say those words to you at all. He never really struck you as someone who would want to get married at a time like this, but it’s not like you minded. As long as you were with him, that’s all that truly mattered to you.
Only now it felt as if the wind was knocked out of you, hearing him utter those words so clearly as if he meant it with his entire being. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit nervously, “Don’t joke about that, cause you know I will.”
He smiled down at you, shaking his head softly, “M’ serious.” he assured, raising one of his hands to run his thumb along your cheek, “Marry me.”
A lump began to form in your throat as you felt yourself get a little more emotional seeing how real this was becoming. Seeing how serious he was. He really wanted this.
“Okay.” you whispered with a small nod of your head.
His smile only grew, “Okay?”
You nodded a bit more frantically as a large smile broke out onto your face, “Yes…yes I’ll marry you.”
He chuckled, pure relief and happiness filling him completely as he picked you up in his arms, spinning you around lightly as you squealed in surprise. Though he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to seal the deal as he gently set you back down on your feet, kissing you deeply as he felt you hum into his mouth. A part of him almost couldn’t believe that you had agreed, wanting to truly be with him forever. But then again, with the way you looked at him, with the way you said yes with little to no hesitation at all, he knew. You were his forever.
~ Thanks for reading!
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aothotties · 1 month
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Sneaky Link w/ Connie
Tumblr media
Warnings: MDNI, jealousy, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, semi-public sex, hickies, not proof read :)
Word Count: 1257
_______
Once Connie turned 18, he packed up and moved out of his parents home. He wasn’t forced to do it, he’s just always wanted to do his own thing. 
He moved in with his boys, started a small business with them too, and even decided he really fucks with tattoos. 
That is where he met you, his own personal tattoo artist. You’ve done all of his body art since he first started coming into your shop and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Deep down inside, he knew he had feelings for you when y’all first met, but Connie doesn’t “do” feelings. 
Now Connie has never been afraid of anything, but when it comes to you, this man is fucking petrified. He’ll never show it, but you make his heart race like it never has before, of course he can’t tell you that though since he has an “image” to keep up. 
Luckily, it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. You can’t deny that he’s attractive, got a great personality and a dick that will fuck you into next week. It’s just that neither one of y’all know how to properly express your feelings.
One thing about Connie though, is that if he wants something he’s going to get it no matter what. He just has to figure out how to get you all to himself. 
His original plan was to walk into the shop and just ask you out, something he’s never done before with anyone. That is until he steps in the shop and sees one of your other clients making you laugh as hard as he normally does. He can’t explain why, but a feeling of anger washes over him. 
You and your client look towards the door, you give Connie your pretty smile that makes him weak in the knees and tell him you’ll be with him in a minute. He nods and goes to sit in your office, staring down the man you’re currently working with. 
He tries to distract himself on his phone, but his attention is back on you when you laugh at something your client says. He rolls his eyes and thanks the gods above when you both walk towards the register.
“Alright, you can slide, insert, or tap your card right here.” You turn the Ipad around and wait for him to complete his payment. 
You turn and give Connie a small wave, he returns the gesture and stands up from his seat and makes his way over to you. 
“Perfect, is there anything else I can help you with?” You ask and he gives you a sweet smile.
“If you really want to make my night, you can come home with me.” He leans on the counter and waits for an answer from you. 
At this point Connie is a few steps away from throwing this man through the front door. He stays silent and waits for your response.
You smile sweetly and place a hand on top of his, Connie rolls his eyes once again and crosses his arms over his chest.
“That’s really sweet, but I’m not looking for anything serious at the moment.” 
This time Connie’s eyes lock in on you as he takes your words into consideration. Has he been wrong about your feelings for him this entire time?
“Such a shame, a pretty girl like you should be tied down by now. Have a goodnight sweetheart.” The man kisses the back of your hand and finally exits the shop.
“Sorry that took so long, Antonio is a talker.” You apologize and lock the front doors once you’re sure nobody else is inside. 
“Yeah I can see that.” He sits on the stool behind the register and pulls you in close to stand between his legs.
“How was your day?” You ask him, rubbing your hands along his broad shoulders.
“Fine, then I came to see my girl and it got better.” He responds and rubs his hands along the curves of your body.
“Ah I see, I’m your girl now?” You raise an eyebrow and look down at him.
He scoffs and leans back so he’s resting against the counter behind him.
“Shit, haven’t you always been?” He mindlessly shrugs his shoulders and this time you give him a chuckle.
“You’re funny Connie.” You remove yourself from his hold and walk to the office to count the change.
Connie watches you walk off and chuckles at your comment. He’s the funny one, yeah okay.
“Am I still funny now baby?” He asks you with a smirk on his face and his cock buried deep inside of you.
You let out a moan in response to his question and he pulls all the way out in return.
“Connie!” You exclaim, reaching for him as he backs away. 
“I asked you a question, am I still funny to you?” He grunts, pushing all the way back into your aching cunt. 
“Fuck! N-no, ‘m sorry papi.” You throw your head back and he takes that as an invitation to suck hickies on your skin. 
You tighten around his dick when his lips make contact with your skin and he bites down on your neck. 
“C-cumming! Please don’t stop!” You grab his arms tightly and arch your back off the desk as your orgasm courses through your body.
“There we go pretty girl, keep your eyes on me.” He leans down and presses his forehead against your own.
You let out a small gasp at the cool feeling of his necklace on your chest. He bites down on your bottom lip and slowly rolls his hips.
“You’re such a pretty girl, maybe I should be the one to tie you down, hm?” He takes your ear lobe between his teeth and bites down gently.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your nails dig into the skin on his back. You nod your head at his question and he smiles against your skin. 
“Say you’re mine. I want to hear you say it.” He sits back and pushes your legs up to your chest. 
He resumes the speed of his hips and you grab the sides of the desk below you. 
“I-I’m yours!” You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a mantra of high pitched moans as he continues to bully your cunt. 
“That’s a good girl, f-fuck you’re all mine.” His thrust gradually get rougher and tears spill from the corners of your eyes.
He completely folds you in half and pistons his hips in and out of you at a rapid pace, you scream into your hand as you gush around his cock.
Your mouth is wide open, yet no sound is able to come from it. Your toes curl as the shockwaves of your orgasm travel through your body.
“Awe poor thing, cats got your tongue?” He grabs your cheeks and smashes his lips against yours messily.
Your lips fall open as his pelvis grinds against your clit, he sucks on your bottom lip and chuckles.
“Fuck you’re gonna make me come baby!” He fucks into you a few more times before he pulls out and comes all over the tattoo on your lower abdomen.
“You okay sweetheart?” He grabs some napkins from your desk and begins to clean you up.
“Y-yeah most definitely.” You give a thumbs up and he plants a kiss on your forehead.
“You can tell Antonio you’ve been tied down.” He whispers in your ear and you roll your eyes at your boyfriend.
Ari
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erodasfishtacos · 2 months
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hiiii guys.
this is my new trope on patreon. there are 6 more parts available on there and more updates to come. You can subscribe for $3USD a month here
THE KISSCAM TROPE
++
YN doesn't know why she thought that a hockey game of all things would make her feel any better about her breakup with Adam.
YN really can’t imagine that anything will lessen the sour taste of her high school sweetheart getting another girl pregnant.
All YN had known was Adam which she was now realizing how much she had been missing out on experiencing through her earlier twenties.
While Adam snuck around behind her back to experiment, hook-up, and do whatever else with other woman.
YN, unfortunately, only knew Adam intimately.
YN always knew that had been lackluster, always more to desire because he chased his own needs and very rarely helped her reach her own pleasure.
It was bittersweet.
There’s a massive relief that she doesn’t have to imagine her entire life with him and open it to new possibilities.
However, the hurt that came with his infidelity still ached enough that she sometimes physically felt her chest twinge.
:readmore:
A hockey game with a few of her close friends.
Her best friend, April, worked for the arena which meant that she was able to secure pretty close-to-the-ice tickets for a fourth of the price.
As they sat down, a few of them had already had a drink or two in them, and YN didn’t want to mix alcohol with a broken heart so she stuck to a soda instead.
After they’ve filed into their seats, YN was at the one end of her group which meant the chair next to her would be filled by another attendee.
She didn’t think anything of it, leaning across her friend Henry to chat to April, her back towards the empty seat.
YN does not realize that someone is trying to sit down until someone bumps her in the back with their elbow, not hard enough to hurt but enough that YN glances back.
“Sorry for that,” The most gorgeous man she’s ever seen apologizes, a big genuine smile that makes dimples pop in his cheeks, “Got my hands full.”
And he did, he managed to carry three bottles of beer by the neck in one hand, his other filled with a tray of food.
His friends follow shortly after, tugging the beers one by one out of his hand until he can sit down comfortably with his carton of food on his lap.
“It’s okay,” YN assures him, trying to not make it too obvious that she’s giving him a sneaky once over because damn.
He was in a pair of well fitting jeans, a shirt that looked vintage but hugged his broad shoulders tight, looser as it tapered down.
The man continues to smile at her as his friends appear to be quite a rowdy group in comparison to him as they settle in.
“You’re pretty,” The stranger tells her, no shame in his words but not much meaning because he’s already turning back towards his friends like he didn’t just rock her world.
YN questions whether she heard it right because did he just call her pretty?
She tries desperately not to hyper focus on it like a schoolgirl with a crush but it’s hard when his shoulders are so broad, his biceps were built.
It was impossible for their bodies not to be frequently touching.
YN attempts to focus on her friends until the game starts, having to face forward and not be able to have her back to the man.
“You want a fry?” The stranger asks randomly after a few moments.
YN assumes that he’s talking to a friend until he nudges her with an elbow, “Do you want a fry or a chicken strip?”
YN normally wouldn’t accept food from someone she didn’t know but their dinner had been disgusting and inedible which meant her stomach was rumbling.
He’s offering the basket up to her, letting her pick out a fry, and his smile was still just plaster on his face as he watched her.
“Thank you,” YN replies after she’s finished it, giving him more of an unsure grin back.
“Help yourself,” He tells her casually before he’s placing the basket between them so she could grab a fry or strip more easily.
This was weird.
After a few minutes, YN hesitantly plucks up another fry, and the man next to her doesn’t acknowledge that she’s eating out of his basket at all.
When YN’s hand hits paper, she looked down in utter embarrassment, “Oh my god. I am so sorry. I didn’t even realize that I was eating all your food.”
The guy looks over at her for a moment, confused until he glances down at the basket balanced on his leg, and then back to her.
“I’ll go grab you another one right now-“
YN moves to stand up and his hand lightly comes to her shoulder to keep her sat, his expression is somewhat unreadable, somewhat amused.
“I offered them to you? Why are you apologizing?”
“You didn’t offer for me to eat the whole basket,” YN points out with a heat in her cheeks, this was embarrassing.
“Are you still hungry? I could go grab more,” He asks easily, it wasn’t a jest or teasing, he was being a hundred percent serious.
If YN would have ate Adam’s food, he would have demanded she go immediately to get more and then bring it up for the rest of the night too.
This man, who was unfairly attractive but more than that, suspiciously nice even though it didn’t come off as creepy or predatory.
“I’m good. Thank you for asking. I’m sorry again,” YN apologizes again for good measure as she picks anxiously at her thumb.
“No apology needed,” He shakes his head with a laugh as he puts the empty remnants on the ground in front of him and swigs from his beer.
YN has to keep her eyes on the ice, she is much too focused on every time his shoulder brushes or his knee knocks in hers because he has to spread his legs an ungodly amount.
There was no conversation between them until another attendee who was further into the middle row was attempting to exit by their side.
The man was a bit wobbly, there was surely a lot of alcohol running through his system and he wasn’t being careful.
He trips over his own feet, over the debris on the ground, and rumbles right on top of YN who yelps in surprise.
The man next to her is quick to action, standing up and tugging the guy back up so that he was standing off his feet.
He was visibly annoyed with the drunk, voice sharp as he warns, “Watch where you’re fucking walking, mate. You could have hurt her.”
The guy mumbles an apology before staggering up the stairs, most likely to get more alcohol.
“Thank you,” YN says once again to him, adjusting her top and brushing off the pants of her leg, heart still pounding.
“Harry, bro. Johnson almost scored!” One of his friends pats his arm excitedly.
Harry.
Well, Harry gives her that signature smile before biting the corner of his lip, and his eyes stay on her a moment longer than acceptable before going back to his friends.
When a commercial break cuts, towards the end of the game, it’s the crowd's favorite time.
The kiss cam.
YN doesn’t think much of it, she’s not with anyone nor loving up on someone.
And it’s an area with fifty-thousand people, it’s next to impossible for her to-
But then her friends are squealing, shoving at her to look towards the Jumbotron, and there she is, projected on the screen.
The frame is decorated with corny swirling pink hearts, balloons popping, and most importantly bold letters that read, ‘KISS CAM’.
In the frame with her, however, is Harry.
As if they were a couple.
His friends must point it out to him because he’s glancing at the screen before he’s making eye contact with her.
Boldly, wildly, he grins and asks, “Can I kiss you?”
YN boldy, wildly nods ‘yes’.
He leans into her space then, big hands coming up to cup her face, and he pulls her into a kiss with an intensity that’s unwarranted but welcomed.
YN can feel her heartbeat in her throat, blood rushing through her ears, and her hand trembling when she wraps her fingers around his wrist.
It’s not chaste.
No, Harry is swiping his tongue against her bottom lip as the crowd goes absolutely insane, roaring and hooting.
Not to mention their friends.
At some point, the camera finds a new couple but YN is positive that they’ve kissed for much longer than they were on the screen before they both pull back.
His lips are puffy, pink, and his eyes are intent on her.
YN feels like panting and her heart jumps when he leans back in for another kiss, a shorter, more sweet one but his hand is grounding on her jaw.
“I’m Harry.”
“YN,” She smiles back at him, her hand still gripping onto him and he doesn’t seem to mind one bit as they just can’t take their eyes off each other.
“Would you want to get out of here?” Harry asks brazenly, hopefully as he appears like he wants to devour her.
YN who’s never been a risk-tasker, who’s never had a hook-up, or anyone other than Adam finds herself agreeing, “Yeah, I do.”
+++
part ii
After Harry had opened his apartment door, the arousal and excitement has warped into a trembling nervousness.
What the fuck did a random hookup look like?
YN didn’t even know if she was good at sex because Adam only had a few trusty positions that he liked.
Harry locks the door behind them, the apartment is small but cozy and clean, it smells like his cologne and the lighting is just right for the mood.
He steps up behind her, leaning down to kiss her neck, and his hands on her hips, bigger and stronger than anything she’s ever felt before.
“Do you need anything first? Bathroom, food, water?” He asks against her skin, he was forward in the way that he was already pressing his hips into her backside.
YN shakes her head, trying to keep up, “No, thank you.”
Harry laughs softly, lips smooth against her pulse, “So polite. Let me know if that changes, baby.”
Baby.
They just met and it sounded sincere, not like a corny pickup line.
Harry moves in front of her, not once ounce of shyness as he crosses his arms over his chest and tugs his shirt up and off.
He was ripped.
Surprisingly so, not that he didn’t look fit with his shirt on but YN wasn’t expecting him to have abs, a sharp vee cutting towards his groin, nor the defined muscle near his ribs.
He looks like he walked out of a magazine.
Was she being pranked?
YN didn’t think this could possibly be real life where the most handsome man she’d ever seen was stripping for her.
He moves towards his jeans, unbuckling his belt, and shimmying them off his narrow hips before kicks them to the side.
Just in his briefs and socks, his groin was prominent, and YN’s heart lurches at that because she’s only taken Adam who was a little below average in size.
His wasn’t average, she could tell from here.
A nervous flip of arousal churns in the bit of her stomach, she wanted this man so much that she felt like clenching her thighs together.
Harry’s brow knife in concern when he notices YN stood like a statue, just staring at him, and making no effort to move.
“Is everything okay?” Harry checks cautiously, stepping towards her but not touching her as he looks unsure.
Fuck, she was embarrassed again.
“Uh, ye-yeah,” Her voice cracks like a boy going through puberty, “Just my first time.”
Harry’s eyes widen in alarm, startled, “Oh fuck, I would have done shit different if I knew that you’ve never-“
YN realizes she could have used much better wording and waves her hand, “No no, I’m not a virgin. I just got out of a long-term relationship. I’ve only ever been with him. This is my first time…just randomly hooking up with someone.”
A relieved smile crosses Harry’s face, “Shit, baby. I’m glad you chose me. How could someone let you go? Prettiest face I’ve ever seen, cutest set of tits too.”
“I just might not be the best but,” YN shrugs sheepishly, this has to be the most mortifying experience ever.
“Don’t be worried ‘bout a thing,” Harry assures her as he steps forward, “Now I gotta give it my all to prove m’better than your ex.”
YN decides to take a step out of her comfort zone, reaching forward to grip him through the cotton of his briefs, and he fills her whole hand.
“You weren’t going to give it your all before?” YN teases, feeling her confidence grow by the moment as she moves to thumb over the sensitive head.
“Fuck,” He curses under his breath, eyes meeting hers under his lashes, “I was always going to, baby.”
“Mhm,” YN hums, not convinced as he twitches in her palm, easy for her already.
“Gotta get you naked, my room,” Harry’s breathing is heavier as he reaches out for her hand, guiding her towards his bedroom.
Once they’re in, it’s surprisingly big, and has a comfortable looking king-sized bed that was actually made nicely.
“Please,” YN hears him asks after a moment of her being distracted, “Let me undress you. I’m fuckin’ dying to see you.”
YN can’t help but look over his body once more and she knew she was nothing in comparison to his athletic build.
However, pushing the insecurity down, she nods with a smile for him to undress her.
It was worth the nerves.
By the time she’s down to just her panties, Harry is groaning as he acts like he’s never seen anything better in his life.
“Knew you’d have the cutest set of tits I’ve ever seen,” Harry rumbles as he ducks down to cup them in his big palms, mouth wrapping around one and sucking.
It felt amazing.
Adam didn’t pay any attention to her body when they had sex, never had, and it did feel like her first time in a way.
She wouldn’t want it with anyone else but Harry.
His hand trails from her breast down her belly, fingers dipping into the front of her cotton underwear.
“Fuck, wait,” YN reaches down to hold his wrist, cheeks warm, “You don’t have to.”
Harry pulls his mouth back from her chest, frowning as he stands up straight again, “Do you not like that?”
“It’s not that, I just haven’t you know…” YN trails off, hoping that he would catch on.
He doesn’t.
“You haven’t….” Harry repeats back, he was still soft and gentle, unhurried and patient with her as she hesitated.
YN looks past his right ear as she replies, “I haven’t shaved in a while. We’ve been broken up for a few months and I haven’t maintained-“
Harry is letting out a humored snort, leaning forward to kiss her quiet before he’s kneeling down in front of her, mouth laying wet kisses on her belly.
“Baby, you’re insane if you think I mind hair. Anyway, I can get your pussy is fine by me. I like it, knowing I’m the first to have you like this in a while,” Harry replies, voice scratchier as his arousal grows, and his lips stay on her hip as he tugs the underwear down her legs.
Adam would refuse to have anything to do with her if she wasn’t freshly shaven.
Not shaving for the past few months had felt like the most freeing experience, she hadn’t ever thought she would be randomly having a hookup or she would have shaved.
“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Harry groans when he finally gets a look at her, his thumb coming up to smooth down the downy curls that were lightly dusting her pubic bone.
“Harry,” YN giggles anxiously, “You don’t have to act like -“
“Can I get my mouth on you?” Harry cuts her off, his eyes were glued to her center, where his thumb was pressing between her folds to nudge at her clit.
YN raises her eyebrow in surprise.
Adam had rarely done that, maybe five times total in their entire relationship, and YN never requested it because it didn’t feel good enough to want it again.
“If you want,” YN breathes out, still in a bit disbelief that this man was kneeling in front of her, asking to put his mouth if her.
“If I want,” He chuckles with a shake of his head before his hands are gripping his hips a bit firmer and keeping her still.
He doesn’t waste another moment, burying his face into her center, nose bumping against the curls on her mound as his tongue swipes through the split of her.
Harry knows what he’s doing.
His lips find her clit in seconds flat but he’s grunting at her, communicating without taking his mouth off of her, and shoulders her legs apart wider.
YN reaches for balance, finding his hair as something perfect to weave her fingers into, and hold steady.
He then just casually, again refusing to take his mouth away, hefts one of her thighs over his shoulder, and makes it possible to lick even deeper.
“Harry,” YN moans kittenishly, a sound she’s never heard out of her own mouth as she tugs harshly at his hair.
He lets out his own moan between sucks and licks, nose buried in the curls, and he’s taking heavy breathes because of his refusal of air.
YN has had orgasms when she had sex with Adam, occasionally, and with her own fingers.
This was the first time someone other than herself made her come.
Holy shit, it was life-changing.
“M’close,” YN warns but by the time she gets the words out, she’s throwing her head back and bucking her hips into his mouth as she rides it out.
His hands move to grip her ass hard, bruising enough as he pushes her as close as possible to help her feel it for as long as possible.
YN realizes just how much she was tugging his hair when her fingers ache, unwinding them as she pants, “I’m sorry. I pulled your hair so hard.”
Harry sits back on his heels, face shining as he swipes his thumb across his bottom lip before sticking in his mouth.
He was fucking obscene.
“Loved it,” Harry replies, voice raspy and deeper than ever, “You tasted just as good as you look. I think I’m in love with the bush.”
YN giggles as he helps her unwind her leg from over his shoulder, he stands up and kisses her hard.
It shouldn’t be hot that she can taste herself.
“Want to see you,” YN murmurs shyly, her fingernails trailing down his stomach, his abs twitching in response.
“Yeah, baby?” Harry goads as he watches her hand, “Hopefully it’s to your liking.”
YN takes that as permission to tug his briefs down his thighs, he was beautiful here too, unsurprisingly.
YN had experience with this.
Kinda.
Adam was less than half the size, not as pretty nor as thick.
It was a bit intimidating.
Harry must sense it, pressing a kiss to her lips, and huffing when she wraps her hand around him, stroking upwards.
“S’gonna fit, nice and snug, huh?” Harry whispers sweetly before he bites her bottom lip, he takes it upon himself to reach down again.
He slips in index and middle finger through her folds, crooking them up inside of her, and cursing under his breathe.
“Baby, you’re tight,” He tells her as he goes slowly, working her open as she pumps him in slow, firm strokes.
YN bites her lip, brave as she thumbs over his shiny tip, “Fuck me, please. Want it.”
“What do you like?” Harry asks as he walks them backwards to the bed, YN landing on her back and squirming up to the middle center.
“What do you mean?” YN asks between a gasp when she feels him brush against her mound, tip bumping at her folds.
“What position gets you off the best?” Harry elaborates as he peppers kisses over her collarbone, tweaking a nipple in his fingers.
“Whatever you like,” YN replies because none get her off.
Harry glances up at her, “But what position is good for you?”
“They’re all the same, aren’t they?” YN shrugs mulishly, “I don’t usually, well, I can use my fingers in any one.”
Harry looks at her like she’s grown a second head, voice sharper, “Did you ex really never make you orgasm during sex without you using your own fingers?”
YN tucks her bottom lip between her front teeth for a moment, “He said it’s easier if I just did it so yeah.”
Harry shakes his head, a scoff of disbelief, “How did he not worship this perfect little pussy, baby? I’ve never seen anything more magnificent.”
YN tries not to let the compliment go to her head, he defiently says that to every other girl he’s been with, it’s just a line.
“Your fingers aren’t going to be anywhere near your cunt tonight,” Harry rumbles as he reaches over to his night stand, rummaging until he finds a condom and rolls it over himself.
“Sweetheart, you’re drippin’ to your bum,” Harry laughs but it’s not mean, it’s fond as he has her bend her knees and spread them.
Harry paints himself up and down her entrance, hitting the heavy weight of it against her clit a few times before pressing in.
“O-oh,” YN gasps because he’s big.
It’s not painful but it is a stretch, as he makes room for himself, and he goes slowly.
He leans down, kissing her, and murmuring encouraging words to her.
Much too sweet for a causal hookup.
“Look at you, never had anyone look so pretty while taking my cock, baby.”
“See? S’room for me, hugging me perfectly.”
“Shit, darling. Never going to want to pull out, just want to stay all tucked up inside you.”
“Fuckin’ beautiful, I can’t decide whether I want to look at your pretty face or perfect pussy. M’spoiled for choice.”
“Please, please,” YN hiccups, she feels needy as he starts to put in more force behind in thrusts, and on every odd motion, he manages to hit a spot she didn’t know she had.
The spot that barreled her towards her second orgasm, nails digging to Harry’s bicep as she squeezes her eyes shut.
“Fuck, there it is, pretty baby. Come around my cock, squeezing me,” Harry lets out a low moan when he feels her walls contract around him.
YN has never come twice like that.
When Harry reaches down to press a thumb to her clit, she squeals with the overstimulation but he kisses her and assures her that she can give him one more.
YN has pathetic, fat tears streaming down her face as her third orgasm hits her.
“There we go,” Harry croons, pleased as a peach as he kisses her damp cheeks, “Came on my tongue, on my cock twice, see how good you are for me? S’all mine, right? Only cock you’ve ever come on.”
The possessiveness in his words makes her stomach flip with something good, validating that she wanted.
“Just yo-yours,” YN manages to agree through bated breath, he was pounding into her now, barreling towards his own end.
“Good girl, fuckin’ making me come for you,” He grits out, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple as he stills, pulsing inside her, “Fuckin’ hell.”
++
YN wakes up before Harry the next morning, quietly as a mouse slipping back into her clothes, and leaving his apartment.
Was it a shitty thing to do?
Yes.
Did she do it to avoid him kicking her out after they used each other because it felt real to her and this was just plain fun for him?
Also yes.
YN guesses this is how hookups go.
++
four more parts are up on my patreon now :)
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cherrychilli · 2 months
Text
18+
Eddie Munson x AFAB reader, established relationship, lingerie, allusions to oral sex(F), PIV sex
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a/n: I'm no seamstress by any means but I can do a decent enough job with a needle and thread and I love making my own lingerie from time to time so it got me thinking about dear sweet horny Eddie and what it might be like when you let him in on your little hobby.
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You'd first told him about it a few months into your relationship, on a day when a press of his lips to the corner of your mouth had turned into open mouthed kisses, his tongue wrapped around yours. Eddie had pulled you closer to feel more of you then, settling you in his lap, pushing your skirt up to find the black, hand sewn lacy garters circling the thickness of your thighs, made dainty and pretty with ruching and bows.
He doesn't even know what they're called – all he knows is that he likes them, a lot and he tells you so between kisses, tracing the soft fabric with his fingers, pinching the delicate lace with a low whistle. He slips in a corny but sweet line about how it makes your thighs look like they've been giftwrapped just for him and that gets a giggle out of you, telling him you made them yourself.
"You serious?", he looks up at you, amazement shining bright in his deep mahogany eyes even when you try to downplay it, telling him it's not that hard. But your modesty does nothing to stop him from thinking you're the most talented person he's ever met and he reminds you of that mixed in with more praise when you change positions and he's down on his knees, slipping his fingers under each garter while he fits his head between your legs.
"Turning up in a pretty little outfit like this? that's begging to have my tongue on you, baby. You shoulda known that", he tuts against your clothed mound, licking a broad stripe up your panties, tasting the wetness that had gathered there on the black cotton.
He only pulled out the stitching on one garter that day – unintentional of course but unavoidable too given how tightly he had to hold you down in place as you writhed. It didn't trouble you though because it was nothing you couldn't mend with your needle and some thread back at home.
From then on, whenever you feel inspired to tackle a new design he's all sorts of encouraging, driving you and accompanying you to get all the things you need – all of the sewing supplies; fabric, thread, lace, ribbon, elastic and more. He helps you decide on which colors to get and he makes the gesture of paying for it all too, wanting to spoil you. Not to mention it's kind of like he's buying himself a present too, knowing you'll model the undergarments for him when you're done.
The most you let him help with after that is taking your measurements, letting him wrap the measuring tape around your hips and bust while you guide him on how to do it correctly but what that leads to is a lot of wandering touches and a few sneaky pinches on your ass, having to playfully swat his hands away if you hope to get anything done.
Eddie backs down with a little whine but all the faux pouting's just for show. He finds space on your bed while you look up DIY tutorials online at your desk before you get down to sewing, all of your supplies laid out neatly by your side, ready to be used.
While you're busy he spends his time strumming away on his guitar, pencil tucked behind his ear as he brainstorms lyrics for a new song. Both of you liked working on your own projects this way, in the same room because you appreciate having each other's company and presence to surround yourself with while you create.
Though Eddie had promised not to look too much he struggles to uphold that promise as he sneaks peaks at you cutting out patterns for a matching lace bra and panty set. He adores the cute way your brows scrunch together in concentration when you thread your needle and how you sometimes mirror him with your tongue pinched between your lips while you meticulously stitch all the individual cut outs together.
Somewhere between the time it takes you to get the panties finished and the bra started he approaches you, one hand clamped over his eyes so he can't see your progress – he knows how much you want to surprise him with the final result. Held out in the other is a mug of that tea you like, having made a quick trip to your kitchen and back, a bag of potato chips cradled in the crook of his elbow for you too.
You thank him and gladly take the offerings, cheeks growing warm when he plants a quick kiss on the top of your head. "Don't overwork yourself", he coos into your hair, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze before he heads back to your bed and picks up his guitar again.
The tune Eddie's playing carries you through the rest of your stitching and close to an hour later you swivel your desk chair around in his direction. "I'm done", you announce with a sunny smile and he grins back at you, fingers abandoning his guitar. "You gonna get changed right now?" he asks hopefully, eyes twinkling.
"Yup", you answer him, popping the 'P' with a little wink. You gather the set in your arms, stepping into the bathroom. "Wait here, I wanna do a reveal", you tell him before closing the door, all giddy with girlish excitement, proud of how the it all came out.
The wait isn't long but every second that passes has Eddie feeling like his head's full of fireworks, finding it impossible to remain still, fingers drumming on his knees, legs hung over the side of your bed, socked feet tapping away on your carpeted floor.
You don't announce yourself once you've changed, unlocking the bathroom door and letting it swing open as you lean against the doorframe, letting your boyfriend take in your newest creation.
You know you've succeeded when his lips part, jaw going slack and his eyes going wide to rake over every inch of you, stunned.
He makes grabby hands at you and its somehow made cuter given his age so you step forward to let him get a closer look, occupying the space between his spread legs, letting him place his warm hands on the bare skin of your waist.
It's always a rare moment when Eddie goes silent, words escaping him as he quietly admires the way the material wraps around your proportions perfectly and the the cheeky cut of your panties as you do a little spin for him, the front a soft lilac satin, the back a matching shade of lace to reveal your ass through the floral embroidery.
The bra is simple – nothing too elaborate like some of the designs you'd scrolled through but it compliments the underwear well. The straps are thin and rest comfortably on your shoulders, the rest sewn in a longline style. It's sheer with the same floral lace as your panties so your nipples show through, your breasts supported well even without padding or underwire for extra softness, all with a tiny, pretty ribbon bow stitched right in the middle to match the one on the front of your panties too.
"You're so fucking beautiful", me utters, pulling you closer to kiss you right above your belly button, making your chest flutter with a thousand beating wings, a hurricane of butterflies taking flight just beneath your skin.
You let him lay you down on the bed and he's far more gentle than he needs to be when he slips your panties to the side, not wanting to stretch or snag the lace and ruin all your hard work. Your belly feels warm like sunlight spilling through your window in the morning because he's so careful with the pretty underwear while he runs a finger through your wet folds, making you feel like something as delicate as porcelain, something to touched with care and worshiped. It makes you hunger for more, pulling him closer by his shoulders.
"Wanna feel you inside", you place your lips on his, hands helping him to unbuckle his belt as he leans over you. You pull not so gently at his clothing, a big contrast to how he's handling you, tossing each article to the side impatiently while you remain in your cute little ensemble. You wouldn't be ridding yourself of your underwear tonight and he wouldn't have it any other way.
"Can't believe I've got the prettiest doll in town all to myself", Eddie huffs a breath against the column of your neck at the same moment you suck one in, pressing his cock inside you, so thick and hard it makes the stretch that much better.
"And she's all dressed up just for me"
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augustinewrites · 5 months
Text
cw: suggestive content, fem!reader
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“come for a stroll with me.”
“i can’t right now,” wriothesley tells you, glaring down at the mess of papers atop his desk.
it was not in your nature to be petulant, but the over dramatic sigh that falls from your lips has him believing otherwise. 
though he wanted nothing more than to abandon the day's duties and join you on the surface for an afternoon stroll, the lord of the fortress of meropide was a very busy man. he had a prison to run.
“fine,” you say, though your exasperated tone indicates that his refusal was anything but.
“you’re the head doctor,” he reminds you, gesturing to the stacks of paper on his desk. “you know how it is.” 
“actually i don’t, because i don’t do all my work at the last minute.” 
“you have sigewinne, who does more than half of it for you.” 
“sigewinne likes paperwork,” you argue, settling yourself atop the corner of his desk. “you could have a whole team of people to help you with these things, but you’re too picky to let them.”
“they don’t do it right,” he huffs, pen scratching a quick signature across the bottom of the topmost report before shuffling it aside. “i know this place better than any accountant whose only concern is balancing a book.”
“fair enough,” you shrug, picking up and thumbing through his reviewed missives with about as much interest as one watching paint dry. he looks down just as a sneaky smile appears on your lips. “i heard it’s quite nice outside.”
“too warm,” he mutters distractedly, too lost in the process of estate management to chit-chat about the weather. 
“perhaps i should shed a few layers before heading out,” you hum thoughtfully, fanning yourself lightly with his papers. 
wriothesley looks up, about to scold you, but the words dry up before they pass the tip of his tongue. 
you certainly hadn’t outfitted yourself as a future duchess might, forgoing a frilly, structured gown for one of his own loose white button downs that’s tucked into closely tailored trousers. 
it’s with great intrigue that he watched your free hand undo the top two buttons of your (his) shirt, revealing the delicate swatch of skin over your neck and teasing him with a peak at your cleavage. 
you catch him staring as you set his papers down, eyes flashing with delight. like a predator that’s successfully cornered its prey. wriothesley - in a last ditch escape attempt - quickly looks away, clearing his throat and staring hard at the report in front of him. 
he could not get distracted today. not with so much work to do. 
but you, oh you. you hop off his desk, walking around it to drape your arms around his shoulders, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. “i suppose i’ll see you later then.”
he mumbles a reluctant goodbye but your lips linger, brushing dangerously close to that sweet spot behind his ear. 
do not give in, his brain instructs, even though it’s getting harder and harder to process the words in front of him with every slide of your hands. 
schooling his features into a calm mask, wriothesley draws a deep, steadying breath. it hardly manages to settle him because archons, you were going to be the death of him. he’s always considered himself a steadfast person with an immense focus that’d been built up from a young age. when he set his mind to a task, he was a difficult man to distract.
you and your wiles have always been proof of otherwise.
“just be back before our audience with neuvillette this afternoon.” he tells you, doing his best to ignore the heat rising to his face. 
finance reviews, surveillance reports, correspondence. finance reviews, surveillance reports, correspondence. finance reviews, surveillance reports, cor–
“stop it,” he demands when your fingertips glide across his chest, fiddling with the knot of his tie. 
“why?” you ask, voice cloyingly innocent. “am i distracting you, your grace?”
“no.”
you clearly do not believe him in the slightest. 
“care for a wager then? because i bet i can distract you by the end of the day.”
wriothesley knows that betting, wagering, or gambling against a former member of the house of the hearth is never a good idea. it’s a dangerous one.
he leans back, arms crossed over his chest as he attempts to salvage what’s left of his dignity. “what are the stakes?”
_____
you know your boyfriend. it isn’t hard for you to wind him up and get him right where you want. 
which was on top of you. 
or underneath you. it depends on the day.
there were no real intricacies in seducing the mighty and fearsome duke. it wasn’t even that hard to fluster him, because a simple brush of your fingers against his was enough to make his cheeks flush with colour.
you just needed to draw him out a little. you’re on the offense, and you know all the right moves required to force him to engage with you.
in an effort to avoid you and (attempt to) win the bet, wriothesley had locked himself in his office for most of the day. it worked out well for you, because you’d been able to sneak into his quarters holding a shopping bag from chioriya boutique.
your plan is put into motion when you hear the duke stomp up the stairs to get ready for the meeting with neuvillette. 
“get back behind that screen,” he instructs when you poke your head out from behind the divider. he’s even slapped a hand over his eyes, intent on staying focused on the task at hand.
wriothesley huffs when you laugh, turning his back to you as he rummages through the dresser. 
he’s murmuring the little rhyme he uses to knot his tie, so focused on the task that he doesn’t notice the crinkling of the tissue paper as you pull your new…outfit out of its bag.
“hey,” he asks. “are you almost ready?”
“i just need you to lace me up,” you call back, shrugging the shoulders of your gown down a touch before stepping out from behind the divider.
you turn to show him the undone laces of your gown, watching his reflection in the mirror. he’s regaled in the fineries of the duke, having swapped out his shirt for a clean black one and fastened a fine fur coat over his shoulders. you appreciate his appearance greatly, but even more so when he finds your little surprise.
“is this…new?” he asks quietly, gloved fingers brushing undone laces aside to get a better look at what hides underneath your dress. 
it was new. a custom set, in fact. your duke likes you in dark lace and sculpted pieces. 
he inhales sharply when you take his wrist, gently guiding his hand to one of the slits in the side of your skirt. 
wriothesley breathes your name softly when his hand drifts up your dress and settles on your hip, meeting nothing but skin. 
a smug, satisfied grin threatens to break out on your face when you feel his lips brush against your shoulder. you had him on the ropes now. he’s just so easy–
his sweet movements cease suddenly and he pushes you away gently. 
“you almost got me,” he laughs, quickly removing his hands from underneath your dress. he grips the laces, deft fingers making quick work doing it up and pulling it taut and tight to hide the tempting lace of your brassiere. 
“but–”
“go put your underwear back on,” he demands, delivering a firm smack to your rear. 
defeated but not the slightest bit deterred, you reluctantly reach for the abandoned garment as your boyfriend glares at the opposite wall. but losing the battle doesn’t mean losing the war. 
“should i put on the garter belt too?”
_____
downstairs, neuvillette sighs, cursing his better-than-average hearing. 
at least you’d had the sense to leave out some good tea.
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 2 months
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There’s No Such Thing As Purity
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(Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader)
Summary: You and Rafe are childhood best friends and as far as he’s concerned you’re an innocent angel he needs to protect from the world. But he discovers a whole other side of you when you accidentally send him nudes that were meant for someone else. Wk: 4.9k
Warnings: Drinking/smoking weed, jealous!Rafe, posessive!Rafe, minor Jj x reader, brat taming, choking, spanking, spit kink, tiddy slapping, hair pulling, face fucking, fingering, orgasm denial, daddy kink, unprotected sex.18+MDNI!!!
A/N: this is only my second Rafe fic so pls be niiicee to me. But I love this man. I need him to own me and put me in my place. Thank you to my sweet angel @babygorewhore for listening to me rant about this, and for beta reading for me. Ilysm. Also this is based off the song “Purity” by Lilyisthatyou.
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You’re not necessarily faded, but you’ve had a couple drinks and you smoked a blunt with a few of your friends when you first got here so you’re feeling a little buzzed. You check your phone and to your delight your sneaky link that you asked to meet you here had responded that he would be on his way soon. You smirk down at the screen, excusing yourself to the bathroom so you could respond to him how you really wanted to.
You close the bathroom door and pull your little crop top over your head, leaving you in just your low waisted mini skirt that you push down even further so your thong straps are on display. You stand in front of the large full length mirror on the bathroom wall, holding your phone camera up while you pose. You take a few shots, then a few more, until you're satisfied that at least a couple of them will be good enough to send. You spend a few minutes going through them before deciding on two.
One is straight on, your tits fully on display, your free hand pulling one of your thong straps up even further, and your tongue is sticking out. The second is from the side, showing the curve of your back and the top of your ass sticking out of your skirt, two fingers between your lips. You smirk, satisfied with your work. You select the two photos before typing out the text to accompany them.
“When are you getting here?😉”
In your somewhat hazy, horny state you click the most recent contact on your list and hit send. You didn’t think anything of it, since as far as you know he’s the last person that texted you. But what you failed to realize is during your little photoshoot your best friend had texted you, and you sent them to him instead. Seconds later your phone starts to ring, Rafe’s contact and a goofy photo of the two of you popping up on the screen.
“Hey, what’s up?” You answer cheerfully.
“What's up? What’s up with you? What’s up with those photos?” Rafe sounds pissed, which isn’t unlike him, but it’s very rarely directed at you.
“Photos? What’re you-?” It takes your slightly inebriated mind a second to catch up but when it does you gasp, pulling the phone away from your ear to pull up your texts. Your entire body warms and your heart feels like it’s going to fall out of your ass when you realize you sent him the photos, and not the intended recipient. “Oh god… fuck. Rafe listen, can we not make this a thing? Those weren’t for you, just delete them so we can forget this ever happened.”
“Who were they for then, huh? Also where the hell are you? I thought you were staying home tonight.” This was not good. You and Rafe have been best friends since you were kids, and he’s always been extremely protective of you, some may say overprotective. So things like guys and hookups? You keep them to yourself when it comes to him.
“Uh - I don’t see why that really matters? Can you just fucking delete them? Also I was going to stay home but then the girls convinced me to come with them to this party. You’re busy tonight anyways? I don’t know why it’s a big deal.” You huff in annoyance.
“It fucking matters because what if something happened to you? Since when do you go to parties without me anyways? You could’ve at least told me you decided to go out. Also you’re sending guys nudes now? Since when? Who is this fucker?”
“Rafe!!! You need to calm down. Seriously, we don’t have to make this a thing, okay? Just fucking delete them and go back to doing whatever it is you were doing. Please.” Your voice comes out more whiny than you mean it to, but you know he’s a sucker for your pouting so you're hoping it will calm him down a bit.
“No, seriously, answer my fucking questions.” He sneers your name into the phone and it sends chills down your spine. He’s been irritated with you before, of course. But never talked to you like this and you have to admit that it’s doing something to you. You’ve always wanted him, but he’s always seen you as this precious angel he needs to protect, innocent. When truly? You’re anything but. You go to parties without him when he’s busy all the time, and as far as your innocence? That was long gone.
“Oh my god. I already told you, I’m at a fucking party, okay? I’m here with my friends. You’re acting like I’ve never gone to a party without you or like I’m a child that needs to be watched and you’re honestly being really dramatic.” Rafe is taken back by your tone. You’re normally so soft and cheerful with him. But right now? You were acting like a fucking brat.
“At a party, where? And you still didn’t answer my other question. Who. Were. The. Pictures. For?” You can tell he’s pacing the room and running his fingers through his hair with his nostrils flared. The image makes your thighs clench. You’ve always fantasized about Rafe putting you in your place, he treats you like a princess, lets you do whatever you want. Granted you’re usually very sweet to him, but tonight? You’re wondering how far you can push him before he finally snaps. “You know you share your location with me, right? I can just fucking look myself if you don’t wanna tell me.”
“Jesus Christ, Rafe! It’s at Matt’s house! Are you happy? I’m still on figure 8, literally a few blocks from my house!! And as far as who the pictures were for? Just a guy, okay? I don’t know why the specifics matter. It’s almost like you’re jealous or something.” You tried to hold it in, you really did, but you’ve been holding back from saying that for years. It was like he didn’t want any guys near you, but he never did anything about it himself and you were over it.
“What if I am?” He practically growls into the phone and that wasn’t the response you were expecting. You had never brought up his possessiveness until now, but other people had and he always said something along the lines of ‘I’m not fuckin’ jealous, it’s just no man is good enough for my best friend’ and it always made your heart deflate, just a bit.
“Are you?”
“Just fucking stay there, alright? I’m coming to get you.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond, the line going dead. Your text notification goes off, the guy who you meant to send the photos to letting you know he arrived at the party. Suddenly you feel shockingly sober.
You take a deep breath to collect your thoughts. You have two options here. Option one, hide in the bathroom until Rafe gets here and then leave with him, totally avoiding any further drama for the night. Or, option two, you could go out there, and when Rafe gets here, you could see if he really is jealous… Fuck it. You pull your shirt over your head, look in the mirror to check your hair, and exit the bathroom.
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You weave through the sweaty bodies in the living room and head out back to where your date said he would be waiting for you. Your eye’s scan the patio, searching for those blonde locks. Your eye’s meet smug blue ones, a cocky smirk on his lips. Yeah, Rafe was absolutely going to lose his shit when he found out those photos were meant for none other than Jj Maybank. Probably one of the last people on earth he would want you fucking around with. But you ran into him at a party a few weeks ago, hooked up with him in a random bedroom, and you’re not ashamed to say you’ve gone back for seconds. And thirds. And forths too. It’s not your fault it was the best dick you’ve ever had in your life.
“Hey princess, how’s a goin’?” He approaches you, his eyes unabashedly roaming your curves in your little party outfit. He brings his thumb to your bottom lip, running across it before leaning in close so his lips brush your ear. “You look good enough to eat.”
“Yeah? Maybe you’ll get to try a bite later.” You lean back so you can look up into his eyes, biting your lip. For a second you almost forget all about the Rafe dibocle, getting lost in Jj’s now familiar, fresh, but still somehow musky scent and those eyes that remind you of the ocean water that surrounds your home. But you couldn’t forget about Rafe for long. Your feelings for Jj are so incredibly surface level compared to the feelings you have for him. “You wanna get a drink? And dance?”
“Sure thing, pretty girl.” He winks at you, throwing an arm over your shoulder.
After you take a shot together you drag him out onto the makeshift dance floor Matt set up on his parents back patio. You start to sway your hips to the music that booms from the large speakers that were set up around the area and Jj hungrily eyes your curves. He pulls a joint from behind his ear, raising it between the two of you with his eyebrow cocked and you nod in response.
You continue to sway, turning your back towards Jj so you can rub your ass against him. He pops the joint in his mouth, turning his head to the side so he can use one hand to light it, his other hand coming down to grab onto your hip. His fingertips graze the skin above your skirt and it gives you goosebumps. After he takes a few puffs off the joint he holds it to your mouth, his skin grazing your soft lips. You turn your head over your shoulder to blow the smoke in his mouth and he takes the hint immediately connecting his lips with yours. But before you can even fully shotgun the hit to him your entire body is suddenly ripped away from his, a large hand pulling you by your forearm.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT? HUH? WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE FUCKIN’ DOING?” Rafe’s voice bellows over the music as he pulls you towards him, causing you to trip and fall into his chest.
“Rafe, I’m just having fun, you need to chill. Seriously.” You push against him but he uses the hold he still has on your arm to pull you closer. His free hand comes up to your jaw, gripping it roughly, forcing you to look up at him.
“I need to chill? Are you fuckin’ joking? Is this who those pictures were for? This dirty fuckin’ pouge? Are you fucking him?” His eyes hold a fire that’s never been directed towards you, and logically you should be pissed, you should slap him across the face for acting like this. But instead you feel your panties get even wetter under his angry gaze, the feeling of his hand on your jaw making your knees weak.
“Hey bro, you need to back the fuck off! She told you to chill, get off her!” Jj tries to grab onto your free hand but Rafe doesn’t allow it, he grips onto your hips, using his hold on you to push you to the other side of him, away from Jj.
“You’re the one that needs to fuck off bro.” Rafe gets in his face, his nostrils flared, his eyes filled with rage. “Keep your dirty fuckin hands off my girl, fuckin’ pouge trash.”
“Your girl, huh? She didn’t seem like she was your girl when she was beggin’ me to let her cum last weekend.” Jj smirks, his eyes boring right back into the taller man’s. Rafe growls, using all his force to push him so hard he falls to the ground.
“Yeah bitch, my fucking girl. Stay the fuck away from her or I’ll beat your ass so bad they won’t be able to identify you when you get to the fucking hospital.” He spits on the ground in front of the blonde’s feet before turning back to you with his jaw and fists clenched. “Bathroom. Now.”
You stare up at him with wide eyes, speechless. My girl. My girl. My girl. Replaying like a mantra in your head. After a few seconds of you standing there like a deer caught in the headlights, Rafe lost his patience. He swiftly closed the few foot gap between you, his large ringed hand gripping the back of your neck. He bends down so his face is level with yours, blue eyes filled with fire staring down at you.
“I said. Bathroom. Now. Start fucking walking.” He practically growls when he says it and you have to hold in a whimper. The hand on your neck glides down to your shoulder, turning you away from him without giving you a chance to respond. You have half a mind to talk back to him. But he seems like he’s two seconds away from turning around and taking his anger out on Jj and you’ve definitely done enough damage in that department for the night, so you start walking.
“Take me to the bathroom you took those little pictures in.” You squeal when halfway down the hall Rafe grabs onto your hair from behind you, pulling your head back against his chest. He’s looking down at you hungrily, his tongue running across his bottom lip. “I wanna take some pictures of my own.”
As soon as the bathroom door is shut he’s on you, shoving you up against it by your throat, his lips smashing against yours in a bruising kiss. He slips his tongue into your mouth using it to dominate your own. Just when you feel yourself start to get lost in it he pulls away, a pout forming in your lips.
“Seriously, what the hell has gotten into, Bunny? Where’s my sweet little innocent best friend? Cause this girl I’ve seen tonight, she’s certainly not her.” He looms over you, the look in his eyes is wild, he looks like he wants to devour you and god you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t let him do just about anything to you right now.
“Maybe there’s a side of me you don’t know about, ever thought of that?” The smirk that spreads across your lips is seductive, the look in your eyes mischievous. “You do know I have a life outside of you, right?”
“No fucking shit, I know that. But this is not something I’d expect out of you. Going to parties dressed like that, smoking weed, grinding on pouges.” He snarls at the last part, the hand around your throat tightening slightly. He pushes your legs apart with his foot and shoves his knee between your thighs, pressing it up against your wet clothed core. You try to hold in the moan that escapes you but your body betrays you. “I’m only going to ask you this one more time, was he bullshitting me out there or did you fuck him?”
“Yeah I fucked him, more than once.” That Cheshire smirk reappears on your lips and he wants nothing more than to wipe it off. He releases your throat to grip your jaw, pinching your cheeks together.
“You lost your virginity to a fuckin’ pouge? You let him inside of you? When I’m the only one who's supposed to touch you? Bet he didn’t even make you cum.” He shakes your head from side to side, grinding his knee up into your cunt. You really don’t want to give into him just yet, but you’re losing your resolve quicker with every passing minute.
“HA! My virginity? I hate to break it to you Rafey, but that ship sailed back in highschool. And as far as him making me cum? Say what you want about the pouges but that’s the best dick I’ve ever had.”
“Yeah? Not for fuckin’ long.” He walks over to stand in front of the mirror you had your impromptu photoshoot in. He turns to the side, looking you dead in the eyes as snaps his fingers, his long pointer finger directed towards the ground.
“Are you serious?” You scoff, crossing your arms in defiance. “I’m not sucking you off.”
You absolutely were going to suck him off, but he didn’t need to know that, yet. You were having fun toying with him and getting him worked up.
“Really? Cause I think you want to. I think you did all of this on fuckin purpose to get me going. Come over here and get on your fucking knees for me, bunny. I know you want it.” He smirks, his hands reaching for the button on his shorts. He pulls his cock out and your eyes grow wide, your mouth dropping open. You can’t even hide the look of awe on your face at the sight of his thick cock. It’s almost subconscious the way your feet carry you forward towards him. You approach him, looking up at him through your lashes. His hands grip your shoulders, pushing you down to your knees in front of him. “Take that fucking shirt off.”
You rip your shirt over your head and as soon as it’s off he leans down to grab onto your tits, squeezing them roughly.
“Perfect fuckin’ tits, and they’re all mine huh?” He pulls back and abruptly his large hands smack down on both your tits causing you to let out a yelp. “Say it, say they’re mine.” Two more smacks come in succession.
“They’re yours Rafe, always been yours.” You look at him with big wide eyes and your lips set into a pout. You almost look like his innocent best friend again, but he knows better now.
“Open your fucking mouth, slut. Stick your tongue out.” He takes his cock in his hand, stroking it.
As soon as your tongue leaves your mouth Rafe is smacking the tip of his cock against it. Salty precum hits your tongue and you moan at the taste. His free hand gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, wrenching your head back so you’re looking at him.
“You done being a fuckin’ brat now? Gonna let me show you who you really belong to?”
“Uh-huh, yeah.” You nod to the best of your ability, all resolve you had left leaving your body. You’re already starting to feel fucked out and he hasn’t even really touched you yet.
“Did I say you could close your mouth? Open.” You stick your tongue out for him again and he leans down to spit on it. “Swallow… Good bunny.”
He pats your cheek and tilts your head back towards his cock. You immediately take his head into your awaiting mouth. You start to swirl your tongue around the tip but Rafe isn’t having it, he’s done with your teasing.
“Just fuckin’ sit still and relax your throat, let me use you like the whore you’ve been acting like all night.” He takes both sides of your head in his hands and thrusts deep into your throat, causing you to gag. “That's it baby, fucking choke on it.”
He starts to fuck into your mouth deep and hard, giving you no time to adjust. You look up at him and his head is thrown back, feral moans leave his lips and his chest is heaving. He pulls your head back, looking down at you. He feels like he’s gonna cum when he does. There’s a string of spit connected from your mouth to his cock, your mascara is running, more drool is dripping down your chin and onto your tits.
“Where’s your phone?” He growls.
“In my purse, probably on the floor by the door where I dropped it when you jumped me.” He rolls his eyes at your attitude, walking over to your purse to pull your phone out. He stands over you again, opening the camera.
“Keep sucking.”
You lean forward and take him back in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down on his dick. You decide you’re going to show him what you’re really made of. One of your hands grabs the base of his cock, stroking what isn’t down your throat, the other comes up to his spit slick balls, rolling them in your palm.
“Fuck. You really are a little slut, sucking me off like it’s your fuckin’ job. You wanna act like a whore? I’ll treat you like one. You wanna send out slutty little pictures to trash from the cut? I’ll help you out with that.” He turns the camera toward the mirror adjacent to where you were standing and snaps a picture of the two of you. Then he flips it towards your face and takes another. “Alright. Get up. Bend your ass over the sink.”
You scramble to your feet and lean down so your upper half is against the counter, your ass and hips in the air. The marble countertop is cool against your bare tits and your skirt rides up over your ass, revealing your little lilac colored thong with a dark spot right in the middle. Rafe groans at the sight, walking up behind you while he pulls his shirt over his head. You tilt your chin up so you can lock eyes with him in the mirror, clenching around nothing at the sight of him standing over your shirtless.
“Look how wet that slutty little pussy is already, all this just from sucking my cock?” He grabs the bottom hem of your skirt forcefully pushing it up over your hips. His hands grip the meat of your ass, spreading your cheeks. One of his long fingers hooks under the thin lace that sits snugly between your ass, pulling it back as far as it can go before letting go. It snaps against your pussy deliciously, making you whimper. “I’ve always wanted to get my hands on this ass. Never thought it’d be like this though, not the first time at least.”
“How’d you think it would be then?” You look over your shoulder at him and he looks like a lion that caught its prey. He doesn’t break eye contact with you when his hand comes down on your ass, once, twice, three times.
“For one, I didn’t think you’d be such a fucking brat. My sweet little bunny. Always acting so innocent. Thought I’d have to be all gentle with you and shit. If I knew you were such a little cock slut I would’ve done this a long time ago.” He spanks you again, but this time it comes from below, the smack hitting your wet lace covered cunt. His fingers hook into your panties, ripping them down your legs. He runs his fingers through your slit, circling around your clit but not never actually touching it. “Look at this fucking pussy, looks so fucking sweet.”
“Please stop teasing me, Rafey.” You whine.
“Please stop teasing me, Rafey.” He mocks, and you think he’s going to keep torturing you but two thick fingers are suddenly being shoved knuckle deep inside you.
“Oh, fuck!” His fingers start fucking you at a brutal pace, this thumb coming down to finally circle your slick covered clit. His free hand comes down on your ass again and it makes you clench around him.
“Whose pussy is this?” Rafe leans over you, his large frame caging your smaller one against the counter top, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Tell me who fucking owns you.”
“You, you own me, daddy. I’m all yours.” He straight up growls in response, his fingers fuck into you impossibly faster and his lips latch onto your neck, surely sucking a bruise into it. Marking his territory. Your walls start to pulse around him and he can tell you’re getting close.
“You gonna cum? Gonna be a good little girl and cum for your daddy?”
“Yeah I’m gonna - I’m gonna fucking cum.” You push your hips back, fucking yourself against his hand. You're about to tumble over the edge when it’s suddenly ripped away from you, Rafe pulling his fingers out of you.
“Rafe! What the fuck! I was about to cum!” You push yourself up on your hands so you can glare at him in the mirror. He smirks back at you, taking the fingers that were inside you into his mouth with a groan.
“That’s what you get for acting like a fucking brat. Besides, if you’re gonna cum, it’s gonna be on my fuckin’ cock.” He pushes you back down by the back of your head, smushing your cheek against the counter. He lines his cock up with your entrance, fully inserting himself inside you in one thrust. “Oh shiiiit, you’re so fuckin’ tight bunny. Always knew you would be.”
“Oh my goddddd.” Your eyes roll back and drool drips down the corner of your mouth onto the marble from the way he has your cheeks pressed together with his hand. He’s huge and the stretch burns so good.
“Yeah, that’s a good little slut, take this fuckin’ dick baby.” His hand travels down your back, gripping your ass harshly before gripping onto your hips. He’s fucking you so hard the sound of your hips slapping together echoes through the large bathroom and his balls are hitting your clit with every thrust. “Your little pouge still the best dick you ever had?”
“N - no, you’re the best I’ve ever had daddy, you’re filling me up so good, feels so good.” Rafe reaches into his back pocket for your phone, using his other hand to pull your ass apart for the perfect view of his cock buried deep inside you.
“I think we should show him how good I make you feel, baby. Show him you really are my girl. From now on the only slutty pictures of you are either going to be taken for me or by me, got it?”
“Yes daddy, I got it. I’m yours, only yours.” He snaps a few photos before setting the phone down on the counter. He grabs onto the back of your neck, pulling your head up so you can see in the mirror.
“Look at yourself, look at what a little slut you are for my cock. Is that fucking drool?” He laughs condescendingly, a smug smirk spread across his lips.
You look at yourself in the mirror, your makeup is running down your cheeks, your hair is a disaster from how Rafe had been tugging on it, and there was in fact, drool dripping down your chin to your chest. Your eyes travel up to Rafe and you feel like you’re going to cum right then and there. His hair is hanging in his eyes slightly but you can see them enough that the look he gives you in the mirror makes your head spin. His toned chest is covered in a thin layer of sweat and the feral moans leaving him are your new favorite sound. His hand grabs onto the front of your throat, pulling you up so your back is against his chest. The new angel has him hitting deeper and you feel that coil in your belly starting to wind up again.
“Fuck daddy, I’m gonna cum, feels so good, please let me cum.” You reach behind you, threading your fingers into his hair while you push your hips back against his.
“Look who can be a good girl after all, asking me to cum without me even having to tell you? That’s such a good little bunny. Go on then, cum for daddy.” His fingers find your clit and it sends you over the edge, your walls tightening around him. “That’s it, fuckin’ cum on my cock.”
He fucks you through it before chasing his own high. Pushing you back down on the counter by your lower back, he grips onto your hips, and drills into you harder than ever.
“This is the best pussy I’ve ever had, this is my fucking pussy, you’re mine. I’m gonna fill you up so full of my cum you’re going to have to walk out of this party with it dripping down your legs.”
“Fuck yes daddy, fucking fill me up, please? Want your cum.” The sound of you begging for his release does him in. Just a few more rough thrusts and he’s pushing his hips flush against your own, pumping his cum deep inside of you. He pulls out and grabs onto your asscheeks, pulling them apart so some of the cum would seep out.
“Don’t fucking move.” He grabs your phone off the counter and takes a few shots of your puffy pussy dripping with his cum. “Good girl.”
He grabs onto your shoulders, pulling you up and flipping you towards him in one swift motion. He grips your face in his hands, kissing you rough and wet and possessively. He pulls away and tucks himself back into his shorts before looking at your phone again, he goes into your texts with Jj and selects the photos he just took, typing out a message and hitting send with a satisfied smirk on his face.
“Told you she was my girl.”
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