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#as always i'm not sure if this is good but i hope you all like this set
tarjapearce · 3 days
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Like Me Pt. 2
Tarzan! Miguel O'Hara x Scientist ! Reader
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Art by Rendraws21 on X
WARNINGS: Mildly suggestive, power dynamics, emotional distress, endangering situations, Kraven being an asshole.
Summary: Your savior proves himself to be very much real.
A|N: Hope you like! I know you're waiting smut. Just bare with it! ;w; Reblogs and feedback are always welcome ❤️
Previous Miguelverse Main Masterlist
Kraven didn't dally and ordered the camp to be settled. The spot was rather good. A prime source of water and food next to you all, soil sturdy and perfect for withstanding the hard hammering of the tools that nailed the bases for the tents.
And after hours of bickering, russian cursing, more work and the crew doctor patching your arm up, the camp was settled and food served.
Each bite not only felt heavenly, but was scarfed down. You couldn't care less if Peter looked your way, mildly disgusted and surprised of your manners, or rather the lack of them while eating.
It was the least you deserved after surviving a ship sinking, getting lost in the jungle, being chased by a giant Jaguar and a man that left more questions than answers.
Who was he? More important, How had he survived all these years on his own?
After a second plate and extra slices of bread, one of the men approached and announced the readiness of your tent. One of the things you asked in your contract. To have your own, cause as much as you trusted Peter, there was nothing better than to have your own space and privacy in the midst of an unhealthy amount of testosterone surrounding you.
"We've eaten, replenished, and blah blah. What happened?" Peter mumbled while picking his and your plate together.
You shook your head softly as another crew member passed by. You didn't trust them, and Kraven had proved to be unpredictable.
One minute he cared for his crew and the other he was leaving you to fend for yourselves. But as long as you did your job, you wouldn't be part of the russian's guessing dangerous games.
"Kraven said we'd have to make do with the little tools we have. He spent a good time of the day trying to get some signal for the radio."
"Any luck?"
"None so far." Peter mumbled as he took your things inside your tent.
A hammock was the bed, a few boxes and other storage things were placed in a corner. A chalkboard and your investigation books in another corner and against all odds, a little broken mirror that acted as a poor attempt of a vanity ontop of another wooden box. Your hairbrush rested next to it. Whoever arranged it, at least had the consideration to make it as comfortable looking as possible.
In total, you had a couple of shirts and skirts left to use. The rest remained on the sea, floating and drifting away with unknown course.
Peter excused to go change himself and you seized the chance to do the same. Catching a cold in the jungle wasn't in your priorities list. Not with reduced medicine and victuals.
You put on a dry set and combed your hair out as much as you could. Peter joined you a couple of minutes later.
The fire cracked and sparked alive as the crew surrounded it. The day had been chaotic at best and everyone tried to soothe the nerves in their own way. Some drank, others sang, others talked and soon Kraven joined.
Others simply went to sleep. Too tired to keep up after a well deserved meal.
"So..." Peter started while sitting before you, a rag and some tubs on his hands. He was cleaning the remaining pieces of your equipment.
"Promise me you won't talk to anyone about this. And I mean it, Parker."
"I'm a geologist, not a snitch."
"I'm... kinda scared of what might happen if Kraven finds out"
"Now you're scaring me.  What happened back there?"
"I know... who killed the beast Kraven is skinning." A gulp rolled down your throat upon remembering the lurid scene displaying before your eyes
"Wait... you said, who?"
A nod from you and Peter paled.
"We're not alone, that's for sure."
Peter rubbed his hands against his face, an exasperated groan escaped him.
"He's taller than Kraven."
"Bullshit." Peter mumbled almost immediate, surprised at your words.
"I'm not bullshittin' you Parker!" You had to hush your voice and soon grabbed a sketch notebook and begun tracing and drawing.
"He's freaking tall, long hair and he's naked. Well, not naked but a loincloth is everything but clothes if you think about it."
Peter frowned suspiciously as his hand pressed on your skin, to see if your body temperature had increased. Jungle fever was one of the worst things a human could suffer when away from their homeland. Cause he refused to believe anything of the nonsense that came out of your mouth was true.
A man taller than Sergei? Impossible. He was tall, but Sergei had been one of the tallest and well built men he had ever came across with.
"What are you doing?" You pushed his hands away and frowned.
"I'm sorry, I do want to believe you but.."
"I'm telling you the truth, Pete! He had... This... red hue on his eyes and fangs!"
"Fangs?" The incredulity in Peter couldn't be hidden the more he listened to your apparent rave.
"He's fucking strong, Pete. He was holding that beast by his tail! and then fought body to body against it! and He's so damn touchy. No respect for personal space!."
"And what? He smashed the jaguar to death and then kissed you?"
"Yes!" You nodded but quickly frowned when Peter tittered on his seat, unable to keep the mirth away.
"Why are you laughing?!"
"I'm sorry. You know we've been friends since college, but you seriously can't expect me to believe that, Dally."
A short for Dalhberg. The surname that put your name out in the researcher's map in London, upon discovering and naming another type of daisy and named it after you. The Dalhberg Daisy.
"You believe in the freaking Queen but refuse to believe in this?"
"I believe in the Queen's acquisitive power, nothing else. Cause I've seen it!" He explained, skeptical.
You showed him the sketch and shoved it to his hands.
"Look at that! That's exactly how he looks like!"
Peter sighed and raked over his eyes on the semi-crumpled paper sheet. Sharp features, a strong jaw and deep eyes.
"Yeah, a haircut would make him look better though." he chuckled, "Look, I know it's been a long day for us... let's rest, ok? We've got another tomorrow."
With a frown you removed the sketchbook away and tossed it on the makeshift vanity.
"He's real." you pointed at the sketchbook
"Okay, okay. He's real. We can discuss it all tomorrow when we're less tired, alright?"  He held your shoulders, trying to ease your rising anger.
But you quickly removed his hands from you, hurt that your best friend didn't believe you. "Whatever. Goodnight."
Peter left with a defeated sigh and soon you cuddled in your hammock.
"I know he's real." With a huff, you pushed the pillow closer to your face, letting the day's weight to finally crash on you.
-----
The loud bangs of a gunshot echoed through the bright blue skies, frightening any local fauna that rested comfortably, like you, that nearly fell out the hammock from the initial jumpscare.
With a heavy exhale, and rub of your eyes you geared up for the day.
This time Kraven was thoughtful enough to give you a weapon. A small knife with enough sharp to slice and dice through anything weak enough to perish under the blade.
And soon everyone gathered to the morning structions. Kraven split up the crew in three parts. The first group of men would go to the beach to recover as much equipment as they could. The second group would be in charge to set up traps and hunt down for food. And the third one, meaning Peter, you, two more men and himself would go explore and study the jungle in order to gain any sort of information of new potential species.
You carried a small backpack, filled with your sketchbook, pencils, some essay and sample tubes and some snacks in case Kraven decided to return until dinner time.
And after a quick breakfast of oatmeal and fruits, everyone left.
Peter walked behind Sergei, guiding the group whenever the mercenary asked him to. You were in the middle as the other two men trailed with their guns behind.
Morning slowly poured into hours. Tortuous, running at the speed of a snail. Each breathing felt like adding more to the waiting, bringing your nerves to a much annoyed stance.
But it quickly melted away upon finding your first discovery.
The grass laid pressed in a circular pattern on the ground. The leaves were placed strategically, as if used as cushions in great amounts. A couple of fruit carcasses laid next to them. Discarded and forgotten.
"Look at that" The excitement in your voice beyond evident. You crouched to see if there was any other clues to your growing suspicion.
Kraven and Peter stopped upon you crouching to the floor.
"What is it?" Kraven pulled his gun from it's holster and walked over you.
"These are nests!"
"Nests?" His brow quirked and you nodded vigorously, to then count the spots. Around six in total.
"You know what that means? They live in packs! Gorillas live in packs!"
"About damn time we found something." Kraven nodded, pleased as he helped you up to then mark a spot in his map.
"Good job, Dalhberg."
Praised the mercenary before moving.
--
When the sun got high enough and Peter discovered some other findings like rare minerals, the group decided to take a break nearby a lake.
The five of you sat down and ate whatever thing you got left from breakfast.
Once you were done, you took your backpack, pencil and sketchbook with you.
"Where are you going?" Kraven grumbled after gulping down the water from his canteen.
"Saw some specimens of plants Id like to register. Won't take long."
"You better return as soon as possible, understood?"
The mercenary warned and you nodded while walking away from the tree. Excited to partake in the things you were brought and paid to do.
Your first specimen was a moss plant, then a new type of orchid. A fish, some birds and more plants. Even though you studied everything alive, the plants were your speciality.
You put the little backpack in a a nearby trunk as you sat down to draw yet another orchid. The place seemed flooding with them.
Engrossed beyond wits to notice you had drifted off a bit too far from the group and a little too late a baboon sniffing and ransacking your backpack.
"H-Hey! Hey! -The baboon took the backpack away, excited and driven by the tinkling within "Get back here!"
The animal hopped on the trees before you could catch it, with graceful and effortless agility, to finally stop to a sturdy looking and serpent-like shaped trunk above the middle of a swamp.
As much as you wanted to let the monkey get away with it all, you didn't want to face Kraven's anger for losing the last bit of equipment and delay the investigation. You didn't know when the next ship would arrive. None did actually.
It's hoots and chirping only increased the more things he pulled out of your backpack. The tubs shattered as they fell off.
"Stop it!" you shrieked while hopping onto the trunk with wobbly and uneven steps.
The monkey hooted louder until it started shrieking, as if mocking you whenever your balance failed and you were forced to crawl over the top.
"God, I swear... if I catch you, I'm so making an article on how annoying you are!"
The baboon just screeched at your silly threat once more before leaving your backpack pending from a twig as he jumped way through the stretched branches that favored him like open arms, with your bag of seeds.
Your breath hitched when the trunk creaked and some cracking around the base perked up your ears.
Shit.
You couldn't stop and return crawling from where you came from, not when the backpack was oh so close to be reached and your nightmare to be over.
With a deep breath, you crawled closer and closer. Paused breaths turned controlled, but quickly grunted when the hem of your skirt stuck in a jagged branch.
"No, no" You whined and pulled away, the trunk creaked harder and you immediately hugged the trunk.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" with a firm yet calculated yank, you ripped the fabric away, freeing yourself although losing a good chunk of front coverage.
A thunderous crack made your breath hitch and you moved forward as the trunk stuttered midair. It was then your eyes actually considered the generous and dangerous distance from your position to the murky water. But the backpack dangling before you, edged you to take a risky decision.
Or you took the backpack and threw it on land, hoping to take the least damage as possible or jumping to that other branch to avoid falling to the water.
None of them happened as the tree dipped forward, and with a dying groan, the cracks widened, tearing the feeble base of the trunk, unable to support your weight any longer.
As in slow motion, you saw the murky water closer and closer and closer, until nothing but darkness swallowed you whole. Cold and muddy water hit you, suffocating your body with enraged water that fought hard to drown you.
Your hands were the only thing that made it out as they failed. The sub aquatic flora begun their tangling in your boots and legs, pulling you down.
Your lungs burned as some water seeped through, the backpack sunk deeper and deeper. Like a sacrifice in exchange of your life. Because a strong pair of tanned hands pulled you with a powerful yank by the forearm, out of the water before death and crocodiles owned it.
Your head too dizzy to actually understand what was happening. Your eyes could only see the landscape sliding smoothy underneath your feet, like if you were flying.
Am I dead? Dead people don't fly, do they?
You shrieked as soon as your eyes looked upwards. Powerful and solid thighs held tightly on the growing vines, that spurted from underneath the gigantic trees, as one of his hand took your arm gently to suddenly pull you up in the air and catch you in his arms.
Your instincts told you to hold onto him as the other survival mode blared with danger alarms. The massive wall of solid muscles he had for a body was warm, full of scars and plush hair that did nothing but welcome your dizzy head on his chest.
The man quirked a brow at your sudden state. He frowned and quickly got over the foliage of a tree, before the pouring rain trapped you both.
You were put with ease against the solid and definitely not rotting trunk, and your body lurched to the side to expell away the swallowed water, clearing your airways.
A firm slap from his hand made your lungs to finally get some air as you gasped and coughed, all the while he watched you curiously.
You were drenched, against a tree, clothes sticking way too intimately against your shivering body, breathing like you were a first born, raged and fast. Lungs burned less.
Eyes finally widened when recognizing the man before you. Some fresh scars littered his Greek-god type physique.
"T-Thank you." You mumbled through clattering teeth and forced yourself to take a deep inhale to control the rising anxiety.
He grunted and approached. One of his hands slid gently under your chin to take a hold of your cheek. Your head instinctively melted into his heavenly body heat, and your eyes dared to shut for a minute. Relishing in the irradiating warmth his calloused hands provided.
He's so warm.
As if sensing the good deed, the man rubbed his hands on your cold arms, mindful of the patches around your arm, a couple of times before going back up to your cheeks and neck.
You gasped as soon as his hands were placed on your chest. His hands gently palming your breast but quickly let them go upon feeling your hardened nipples. You quickly covered your chest
He watched his hands, as if inspecting them for any damage when he felt the hardened nub, to then return to your arms, prying them away from your chest.
"Wait!"
You shrieked and he took both of your wrists with one hand and hovered them above your head, squishing them against the tree, softly. His eyes raked and took in every feature of you, before stopping at your chest again.
Your breath hitched as he slid the other hand inside your shirt. Cheeks turned impossibly warmer when he took one of your breasts and pulled it out of their confinements.
He examinated the perky mound with puppy wonder-like curiosity and then looked down his own chest. He frowned. His didn't swell like yours did.
"Wh-What are you doi-" you bit your lip as he poked your nipple, sniffed it and licked it. Earning a short mewl from you.
The sound startled him and he let you go.
"T- That's not a polite thing to do!" 
You quickly put the breast back and swung your hand to slap him. You had to admit his reflexes were something else cause it caught it before it collided against his face.
"How dare you?!" You struggled to let your hand go, but stopped your outburst when his eyes watched your hands and brought them before his ever curious face.
His own hand reached up, and placed itself before yours, comparing the stretched and long digits against your smaller ones. They weren't the same size, that was much true, but the texture and lines he had were the same on yours.
His eyes shone brighter than any  bewilderment. His mind had finally clicked together at the sudden epiphany that flooded his brain.
You were like him.
He pursed his lips before letting out an excited grunt. He backed away to create enough space for his arms to move freely.
He pointed to himself and spoke with the deepest yet excited voice he could manage.
"Miguel."
Your eyes went wide and you approached. He tried again while pointing at his chest.
"Mi guel."
"Miguel." His nose flared proudly and his throat grunted happily.
"Oh! I see!"
His ears perked up upon hearing your name.
"OhIsee!" He repeated.
But you quickly corrected him, with your name as you pointed to yourself and then called his name as you pointed at him.
A buttery crawl rolled down your spine as he mumbled your name.
"Exactly." you smiled.
He cupped your face again and mumbled your name once more. However, the sound of a gunshot tearing through the skies disrupted his attention from you and stood at the edge of the branch.
"Kraven" You gasped. Completely forgetting about him and the group.
Oh no...
Trouble was a tiny word of the deep neck shit you were into. Another shot rippled through, frightening the birds in the ratio.
"Kraven!" He repeated, excited.
Extraordinary. There wasn't any word to describe him better. He took you back, trapping you in between his muscular thighs and swinging through vines.
The more you approached the camp, the clearer you saw this massive black and brown spots moving away from the settlement.
Your hearth thumped with violence upon finally standing before a small group of gorillas, sniffing and hooting softly upon seeing Miguel.
Your savior wasted no time in pulling you closer to them. You shook your head, rightfully frightened.
"No, no, no wait!"
The gorillas huffed to then sniff your head, your clothes. Some even pulled at your hair softly, others examinated the clothes you were in.
Another gunshot echoed closely this time and it was loud enough to spook out the beasts out that pulled Miguel with them. You could only watch him, wide eyed, expectant. But he left.
"Miguel..."
----
Kraven wasn't one for losing his temper with women. But you, had the annoying ability to make his patiece turn to dust in the least opportunes of moments.
"I asked you, where the fuck have you been?!"
He dragged you to the center of the crew and threw you on the floor.
"I told you, I almost drowned! Why do you think I'm like this?!"
Kraven spat a few words in his native language under his breath and grunted
"You lost your equipment, didn't you?"
"I... I tried to get it back but I almost drown in the swamp, Sergei!" you explained with nothing but the truth
"You can't swim, don't you bullshit me.!"
"I'm telling you the truth!"
"Then how you survived!?"
Peter frowned as he looked at you.
"I was saved. Ok? A man saved me!"
"A man?"
"He's... Not like us. He's taller than you and he saved me!" you kept pressing, hoping the angered mercenary understood that you didn't do anything in purpose to upset him.
"He knows how to swing through the vines! And dropped me here! His name is Miguel. "
Everyone stared with derision at you and Peter seemed concerned you stuck with your story so bad to the point of risking your own neck and reputation.
Kraven' brows furrowed into a scowl and soon he pulled his revolver out and pointed at you.
Your face turned to panic, as your hands rose shakily.
"A savage named Miguel helped you?"
"He did! Otherwise you'd still be looking for me."
Kraven snorted without removing the gun's aim from your body.
"Funny you think I'd waste my resources to look up for a stupid woman like you."
"Please, you have to believe me! I saw gorillas around the camp!"
Kraven removed the safety pin from the revolver, as if peeved you'd waste his time and resources into being an idiot and not doing your work as he required.
Time was ticking and he still had no news, and for you to be fantasizing about savages and doing stupid things such as endangering yourself had proved you weren't reliable.
"You're not reliable, anymore, Dahlberg."
"No! Sergei listen to me-"
He pointed the gun once more to you "I can't keep unreliable people within my crew."
"I'm not lying!" You pleaded with all your might and tears in your eyes, "Miguel is-"
Before Sergei could push the tip of his revolver on your head and shoot, the earth underneath rumbled, as Miguel fell in between you.
Real.
Kraven stepped back as the imaginary savage was now fully standing before him. His head had to crane up to meet his burning ember eyes.
Miguel's lips snarled at him, showing his fangs and beating his chest. A clear challenge for him to fight him.
A collective round of gasps echoed through the men, but when Miguel bared his teeth, they all pulled their guns and pointed at him
"Stop!" You yelled and quickly scrambled to your feet to take Miguel's hand and shake your head with determination.
"Don't hurt him!"
Peter immediately got himself before you and rose his arms, showing he was no armed.
"I'm sure we can reach an agreement here without filling eachother with bullets, gentlemen"
"Shut up, Parker!" Sergei seethed and with a deep flare of his nose, pointed the gun at Miguel again, but Peter grabbed the weapon and the shot tore through the air again.
"Kraven" Miguel grumbled at the gun shot sound.
Said mercenary could only watch him, nonplussed for a moment. While you, again, stood your ground before the behemoth of a man. Attempting your best at protecting him.
"Have... we met before?" Kravinoff spoke confused.
"I told you he could speak! And he is real!"
Miguel remained glued at your side. Everyone slowly put their weapons down as Kraven approached to take a proper look at Miguel, fascinated by his sheer size and build.
Peter had to admit, that it was the last time he'd ever doubt your words.
"You said you had seen gorillas?"
Again, you nodded and Miguel repeated the word.
"Miguel knows them. He could help us."
"Help us? The man barely understand us, but... It's better than nothing I suppose."
Sergei scrunched his face in confusion as Miguel took strands of your hair and sniffed them, his senses awakening in pure adrenaline. Throat grunted approvingly.
"Yeah... kind of understand the personal space thing now." Peter cleared his throat behind you. The rest kept looking to see but quickly were dismissed by their leader.
"Oh, shut up." You grumbled nervously as Miguel pulled your head to his chest once more, to listen to his powerful heartbeats.
"Yeah, it's very very nice." You chuckled nervously with a soft flush creeping your cheek.
"Nice." He repeated.
Kraven could only watch but if he was the link towards the gorillas, he'd seize the chance in every way he could.
"He's way smarter than you think."
"We're running against time, how would he understand us, Dhalberg?"
Miguel moved to inspect Kraven, mimicking his gestures effortlessly. Earning a giggle from you.
"Leave that to me."
-------
Taglist:
@yhrlocalcyprus @nommingonfood @literatiastray @call-me-nyxx @gennirose @loonalockley @danubliat @marit332 @beabfleab @l3lazeit @lililapuce @prollyanvycchi @huehuehuehuehehe @nanamiscunt @ncj2837ndjcj @leviswifey-act62 @migueloharacumslut @migshusben @freehentai @animequeen4
@del-ightfulling @angel-of-the-moons
396 notes · View notes
ellecdc · 2 days
Note
can i formally request something? (i have no idea if you take smut requests so please ignore me if not😭) a barty x reader smut where everyone already thinks they’re together so they’re like 🤔?? maybe they’re onto something
and maybe if they try to tell people (read regulus) they’re just like -_-¿ this is new
and well done on your exams!! i’m sure you aced them
hahaha omg this is so Barty and reader coded fr. thanks for your request (I hope I did it justice)
Barty Crouch Jr x afab fem!reader who has sex for the first sodding time, Evan
CW: smut - like straight up porn people, p in v intercourse, pussy slapping cuz apparently I'm a freak, soft choking, a slap in the face if you squint, 18+
This conversation had been going on for so long that you were truly fighting the urge to throw your head back and let out a guttural scream out of pure frustration.
But Barty never fought his urges.
“For fuck’s sake!” He screeched. “How many sodding times do you need me to say it: we - are - not - to - geth - er!” He shouted at Evan, emphasising each syllable with a stomp of his foot. 
Evan smirked and shared a look with Dorcas before rolling his eyes.
“Sure. And what exactly is this?” He asked, gesturing with his book at your tangled forms.
Okay, so maybe you and Barty were physically affectionate with each other - but that didn’t mean anything.
“What?” Barty asked simply.
“The way you’re sitting, Junior.” Dorcas drawled in a bored tone.
You both looked at each other like you were only just now realising your proximity to each other. 
You were positioned on the cushion of the sofa between Barty’s thighs with his arms wrapped around you and his hands weaselled under your shirt and tucked under your breasts.
What?
It was for warmth; he has terrible circulation, you know.
“We always sit like this.” You replied.
Evan scoffed. “You always sit like you’re one sneeze away from having his dick slip inside of you?”
“Okay, you know what?” Barty said, slipping his hands out from your shirt and patting your thighs to say ‘get up’, and standing up behind you. “I didn’t come here to be spoken to like this, least of all by someone who has his head shoved so far up his arse that he could check for tonsillitis.”
Evan shut his book he’d been pretending to read up until that point causing Barty to screech and shout at you to ‘save yourself’ as the two of you took off in the direction of his dorm room. 
You were laughing and breathless by the time you made it into Barty’s room and he shut the door behind you, casting a locking charm for good measure should Evan come looking for retribution for the slander.
“Honestly, I think they’re just jealous.” You said breathlessly.
Barty nodded as he sucked in a few deep breaths himself. “I mean, it’s kind of sad he’s never had a best friend that he felt so comfortable with, you know?”
“Exactly!” 
“And I don’t know why everyone has to make it so sexual. Do you have great tits? Sure. But that’s not why I put my hands on them!”
“Of course.” You agreed readily. “And I mean, are we two of the hottest people to walk these fucking halls? Of course we are -”
“Absolutely.”
“- but that doesn’t mean we’re shagging!”
“Right!” Barty said with finality as he finally sat down on the chair at his desk. “I don’t know why they have to make everything so weird.”
“Me either.” You groaned as you fell backwards onto Barty’s bed and stared up at the green velvet bed curtains draped over the four poster bed. “They’re probably just jealous.” You repeated. “I mean, we would make a really hot couple; I’d want to be with us too.”
“You know, that’s exactly what I was just thinking.” Barty agreed quickly. “And if we were having sex, they’d bloody know it. It would be hot.”
“Gods, it really would be, wouldn't it?”
“Without a doubt; I’m great in bed, and you’re great at everything.” Barty said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“You know what.” You said as you sat up to face Barty. “It would be hot. Great sex comes from trust-”
“Check.”
“- communication,”
“Check.”
“Familiarity,”
“Duh.”
“Confidence.”
“Obviously.”
“We’d be sodding lucky to be shagging each other!” You proclaimed.
“I agree!” He responded. 
You both stared at each other; breathing slightly laboured having gotten yourselves so worked up pleading your cases (to no one, seeing as you were both clearly on the same page).
“Huh.” Barty said finally, giving your body a once over. “You know, maybe it is weird we haven’t fucked before.”
“Yeah.”
Your eyes met his green ones that held an intensity you’d not seen from him before.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you wanna fuck?”
“Yeah.”
And like a flip had been switched, the two of you were launching yourselves at each other. 
No time was spent savouring touches or testing waters. It was all teeth clashing, tongues dancing, heavy breathing, and tearing each other’s clothes off.
It felt somehow both forbidden and oh so right.
You’d truly never thought about Barty like this; you really were just that comfortable with one another.
But as you pulled his shirt over his head and started fussing with his belt, a fire roared to life inside you screaming we should have been doing this the whole bloody time. 
You nearly tripped over the waistband of your trousers as Barty backed the two of you towards his bed where he sat on the edge.
You broke apart for air as he moved his sinful mouth down the expanse of your torso and took to marking up your breasts.
“Salazar they’re even better like this.” He murmured to himself before taking one of your nipples in his mouth whilst he pinched the other.
You ran your finger through his hair, an action you'd done many times before, but never like this.
You pulled at it roughly and brought his lips back to yours as you pushed him to lay back on his bed so you could straddle him.
“Merlin, Y/N. No foreplay?” He chuckled breathlessly as you gave his cock a few strokes and whispered a lubrication charm.
“Next time.” You sighed as you lined him up with your entrance and slowly sank down onto his cock, causing the two of you to moan in unison.
“Next time, huh?” Barty teased as he smoothed his hands up and down your sides, allowing the two of you to adjust to the feeling of one another before you experimentally rolled your hips.
“What? Don’t you want to fuck me, Junior?” You taunted right back.
Barty thrusted his hips up roughly into yours, causing you to cry out and place your hands on his shoulders to stabilise yourself. “I think it’s very obvious I want to fuck you.”
“Yeah?” You whispered, bringing your mouth back to his and biting gently on his bottom lip.
“Yeah.”
You breathed a laugh out through your nose before you bit down harder.
“Then fuck me.”
And before you could tell which way was up, Barty had flipped the two of you over so he now hovered over top of you and had his hand wrapped around your neck.
“You want to be fucked, doll?” He groaned as he hooked one of your legs around his hip allowing himself that much deeper in you.
If there was one thing you could thank the fucked up breeding habits of Purebloods for, it was apparently the size of their cocks. 
“You want me to ruin you?” He continued as he added more pressure to your throat, still grinding into your now sopping cunt. “Make sure no other wizard is ever good enough for you?”
Your entire body felt like it was on fire; the feeling when you’re sitting on the poolside in the sun after a swim; the beads of water only make the sun’s rays feel that much warmer against your skin.
“Oi.” He demanded, giving your cheek a chastising tap. “You gonna be good for me?” He asked more seriously this time.
His beautiful green eyes were nearly fully eclipsed by his pupils as he continued moving in and out of you with what you realised now was a very controlled pace. But you were eager to see where he’d go from here.
“I’ll be good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.” He ordered.
“I’ll be good.”
“What was that?”
“I’ll be good, Barty.” You whined, pulling at his arms in an attempt to bring him closer.
“Who are you going to be good for?”
“You.”
“Yeah?”
You hummed in agreement as he hiked up your other leg and wrapped it around his hip.
“Tell me.”
“I’ll be good for you! Promise. I’ll be so good for you, please.”
Barty chuckled and let out a taunting cooing sound as he fell to his elbows and brought his face to yours.
“There’s no need to beg, sweets.”
And just like that, he was pulling away from you again.
Suddenly, his hands were on your hips and he lifted them into the air, holding them there as he began slamming into you. 
“Gonna be so fucking good for me, aren’t you angel?” He grunted.
You scrunched your eyes shut at the feeling of his throbbing cock pounding into you; adjusting his angle every few thrusts in search of something.
“I bet you’re a fucking screamer, huh? You always got so much to say babygirl; don’t go quiet on me now.”
His fingers dug further into the fat of your hips as he adjusted his grip on you, causing you to let out an embarrassing keening sound.
Apparently that was close, but not quite what Barty had been looking for.
“Close. How about we try…”
And he pulled out of you completely before landing a hard smack against your pussy, forcing a surprised scream to tear from your throat. 
“There’s the pretty sounds I was looking for.” He celebrated, rubbing placating circles on your clit before repositioning himself and sinking back into you. “Think you can keep that up for me, Princess?”
“Yes!” You cried quickly, grabbing helplessly at the bedding as he once again lifted your hips up into the air, finding that sweet spot inside you that he’d been in search of before his interruption.
He knew he found his mark when you let out another strangled sob.
“Alright pretty girl, there we go, huh? Does that feel good?”
You were babbling affirmatives nonsensically as he groaned at the sensation of your walls clenching around him; yesses and pleases spilling from your lips.
“Fuck you feel so good.”
“Please Barty.” You cried, reaching a hand up to his wrist.
He let your hips fall to the bed as he brought one thumb to your clit and his other hand took yours in his.
“What is it, princess? Hm?”
“Please.” You whined, and it sounded pathetic even in your own ears in your current state.
But Barty only tsked and pulled two of your fingers into his mouth which he began to suck.
You could feel the tension building in your core as he quickened his pace with his thumb and his hips before letting your fingers go with a pop.
“I’ll take care of your princess, you know that. When have I ever let you down?”
Never.
“Never.”
He smiled triumphantly down at you; and though his mouth was cocky, his eyes were sincere. 
“Exactly. I’m not about to start now, yeah?”
And suddenly his thumb was gone from your clit, your ankles were thrown over his shoulders and he was leaning his weight against the backs of your thighs as he began thrusting into you with an air of desperation.
“Atta girl; so good, huh? S’good.” He grunted as his thrusts became somewhat sloppy. “S’fuckin’ good for me. Perfect for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes.” You chanted with each thrust of his hips. “Please, oh gods, please, please Barty.”
“I know, I know.” He grunted, clearly as close to teetering over some sort of edge as you were. “I know, I feel it. You’re alright, yeah? Go on, sweets; I’ve got you.”
And his hands were holding onto your thighs for dear life and he was kissing at your knee like even that silly little part of you was something worthy of worship, and he did have you and he never let you down and he wasn’t going to start now and you saw stars as you finally fell over the edge.
The room fell quiet as Barty locked his lips on yours, and you realised you’d been screaming. 
His hips stuttered as he thrust into you once, twice, three times more before he followed you over the edge; letting your legs fall from his shoulders as he fell to his elbows on top of you and the two of you fought to catch your breath.
In complete contrast to the Barty who was only moments ago pounding mercilessly into you, he started placing, slow, lingering, gentle kisses over your face as his thumbs rubbed idly at your temples.
He pressed a kiss to your neck, your jaw, the tip of your nose, over your eyelids, your forehead, your ear.
You knew Barty could have a soft side, but you never imagined it so tender.
“I knew you’d be a screamer.” He whispered, breaking you out of the serene moment and surprising a bark of laughter from you, which caused both of you to groan in discomfort before Barty slowly pulled out of you. 
“Stay here, princess.” He instructed as he walked away from the bed and returned a few moments later with a warm cloth and one of his (read: your favourite of his) t-shirts.
You watched him carefully as he cleaned you up - and once again, what probably should have felt awkward or embarrassing felt nothing but natural as he doted on you. 
“Can you sit up?” He asked; not one hint of condescension in his tone as he held the neckhole of his shirt open for you to slip your head into.
As it poked through, he pressed a kiss to your lips before helping to thread your arms in.
“Is it safe to assume we’ll be doing that again?” You asked with a smirk, causing him to scoff dramatically. 
“We’ll be doing that the rest of our lives if I have anything to say about it.”
After a shower and a change into comfies, the two of you returned to the common room, and though Dorcas was long gone, Evan could be found where the two of you had left him, now in the company of Regulus. 
“Well boys.” Barty sang dramatically as he swung his legs over the back of the sofa and landed on the seat with a bounce. “We just fucked.”
You rolled your eyes at his blatant goading as you sat beside him.
“Yeah? And I had potions today; so what?” Regulus muttered without looking up from his novel.
“What do you mean so what? This was the first time!” Barty argued.
“This is new.” You insisted severely.
“You know, I always knew Barty was a liar; but I expected better from you, Y/N.”
Your mouth dropped open as Regulus and Evan stood up and walked away from the seating area.
What you didn’t see as they walked towards the Slytherin dungeons was Regulus passing Evan five Galleons for their bet on who could convince the two of you to finally get over your “just friends” bit.
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Text
Yearning Allegations - Pt.2
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Part 1 can be found here
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader
Genre: Friends to lovers slowburn
Summary: You've liked Paige for the longest time. Is there any chance she likes you too?
The first thing you do when you get back to your dorm is groan. Why the hell did you say that? Now she's gonna be worried about you, which is the last thing you'd want.
Annoyed with yourself, you kick off your shoes and throw your clothes into the corner before changing into an old oversized shirt you stole off Paige once when you slept over at hers. It's comforting, still smelling vaguely like her, and you curl up in your bed, plush bedcovers over your knees.
Earbuds in, you press play on Taylor Swift's newest album. Your taste in music was different from Paige's, preferring pop and rock, whereas she liked what you affectionately called "fuckboy music." Of course this was just a lighthearted inside joke, you also liked some of her music, like PartyNextDoor or The Weeknd.
You're halfway through the song 'Down Bad' when you hear a light knock at your door and a soft voice.
"Hey y/n? You good? Open up"
You open up the door to see Paige standing there with an unreadable expression, and then she just walks right in and drops onto your bed.
"Yeah, I'm all good" You say, hoping you sound reassuring. Can she tell you don't actually have a headache?
Paige doesn't say anything. She just seems to be studying you closely, and you nervously ramble on.
"You really didn't have to leave the party, sorry if I freaked you out or something"
You've said it all in a rush, and Paige just smiles a bit as she reaches out and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. You want to speak up and tease her to ease the tension until you look at her face.
Paige's expression is gentle, and you notice just how dilated her pupils are in the dim light of your room. Her irises are small, nothing but a vivid blue ring, and you smile at the sight. Her eyes are just so pretty, they've always reminded you of forget me nots, or a clear sky, and you're so busy pondering their exact shade match that you realize you forgot to speak.
"What?" Paige says, suddenly self-conscious.
You blink a few times.
"Nothing"
You turn away, grabbing your glass of water off the nightstand.
Paige is looking at you, head slightly cocked, brows knit quizzically. Your mouth feels dry despite the water, and you want her to stop looking at you like she's trying to figure you out.
"I swear I'm actually good, deadass. My head just really hurts. Probably chugged too many shots during that drinking game earlier. " You put down your cup and dramatically flop onto the bed, closing your eyes and then peeking one open to check if your explanation worked.
Paige finally relaxes and smirks at you,
"Pfft y/n you're such a light weight. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
You scoff and reply with a grumbled whatever I'm fine, pressing a hand to your head dramatically, and Paige props herself up against the wall, holding one arm out for you.
"Alright, alright, come here."
You smile at her, cuddling up to her side. Her perfume smells so good. It's a subtle vanilla. You settle on her chest as she holds you.
"Also- are you wearing my shirt?" Paige says, rather amused.
"Yeah? Why, do you want it back? I’ll give it to you later" You retort, with half a mind to take it off and playfully throw it at her. This is how it was between you two, at least when you weren't acting like an idiot.
"Nono it's fine, just thought it was... interesting"
Paige pulls you back in, hiding her grin with her hand.
You're fighting off sleep, but you still scoff in response, and she just strokes your hair gently as you drift off.
---
The next week, Paige is over at your dorm, playing Fortnite on call with KK and Ice as you play League of Legends.
"Ughhhhh!!"
Paige groans with frustration, putting down her controller as she loses another match. KK and Ice are bickering with each other over call, and you just smile at the familiar sounds.
You're busy fighting hard in League. Your team is technically losing, but you think you might be able to carry if you score a few more kills at the right time. You don't look up when Paige sits down next to you, headset and game abandoned, head resting over your shoulder to watch you play.
"Another loss, huh?" You say, grinning while you score another kill.
You don't need to turn around to see Paige's eyeroll.
"Yeah yeah, whatever. I just lost cause I was trolling too hard"
Paige is a bit of a sore loser (and dramatic) so you can't resist the urge to poke a little fun at her.
"That's what you get for being a Fortnite player, cringe as hell man”
Paige throws her hands up as she retorts back,
"Dude you're literally playing fuckin League of Legends right now, you can't talk"
You finally look away for a second to grin mischievously at her, one eyebrow cocked.
"Well, at least I'm good at League-"
Not more than 2 seconds pass before Paige sticks her whole hand in front of your screen during a team fight, causing your character to die. You end up losing the game, considering the enemy team was already way ahead.
"What the hell, Paige!"
You whine, and she just grins evily in response.
"HA, what were you saying about winning??-"
You don't allow her to finish that sentence because you shove her over, standing up from the chair and knocking her onto your bed.
"Hey!"
Paige shouts as you start tickling her sides, absolutely going in. You've got a knee on her leg to make sure she doesn't wiggle away from you.
"Yeah, so who's losing now-" You laugh, her cussing at you, trying to pull your hands away.
After a few minutes, Paige pushes you over, and now it's a full-blown battle. Your hands scramble to find her weak spots before she can find yours, and you note how her loose t shirt has risen up, a bit of her stomach out as she kneels over. You seize the opportunity and tickle just under the hem of her shirt, fingers hitting bare skin.
Paige's face blushes a deep pink as she feels your hands go up her shirt, and she grabs one of your wrists, pinning it to the bed.
"Paige!" You can't get your wrist free from underneath her, she's stupidly strong. You can't even move away because she's sitting on you now, using her free hand to tickle your neck and side mercilessly.
"I think you're the one losing!" Paige says triumphantly, enjoying the sight of you squealing.
You sneak your other hand unpinned hand into her waist, tickling her side, and she curses, grabbing that hand and pinning it too.
Breathing heavy, you're both flush against each other for a moment, her body leaning over yours, and for a second, you swear you see her eyes flicker down to your lips.
You stop moving entirely, admiring her from your position beneath her, trying to mentally engrave the way the light highlighted the honey streaks in her hair into your memory. Your eyes dart down once to her slightly parted lips before glancing up to her eyes, the expression in them unreadable.
"I- I won!" Paige gets off you in a hurry, moving away quickly to smooth her shirt down in your bedroom mirror.
"Yeah yeah whatever" You say back, hoping she didn't hear the shake in your voice. You press the back of your hands to your cheeks. They're warm.
Paige doesn't stay long after that, saying she needs to get some homework done, and you just sit alone in your bedroom after she's left, playing back the moments to yourself.
What the hell was that?
---
Authors Note: Thank you guys so much for the love on the first chapter <3. Paige and y/n gamer losers, this is true.
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angelltheninth · 2 days
Note
I need you to hear me out-
“Let’s ruin ourselves for anyone else” with Clark Kent for the smutty one liners
Hope you have a good day ✨
Hope you have a good day too!
Pairing: Clark Kent/Superman x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, first time having sex, size difference, gentle sex, strength kink, whimpering, blushing, size kink
Word count: 0.8k
A/N: The MAWS fandom has some kind of hivemind cause we all decided that Clark Kent was 100% a virgin.
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2. "Let's ruin ourselves for anyone else."
"How... I'm sorry... but how am I supposed to fit this," Clark looked at his rock hard cock, "into there?" and then at where his finger was, inside your pussy. He was scared of this exact thing. There was always a chance he was too big for you, Clark was a mountain of a man after all.
You laughed, "Clark, you know that hole can push out a baby right? I can take that big cock of yours." You tried to make him feel better but you were nervous too. Your heartbeat drummed in his ears, making him sweat. When he moved his finger again your pussy clenched around it.
"But my finger is already filling you, what if I hurt you. I can hold back but I can't do anything about my size." He pulled his finger out to compare. His cock was quite a bit thicker. When he wrapped his hand around it the tip still fully peaked out, red and covered with pre. "And you're so small compared to me. What happens if I hurt you and ruin this?"
Doubt was written all over the superhero's face, and fear.
He could stop missiles with his hands, fly around the whole world whenever he wanted, move buildings and crush tanks. Compared to all of that you were as fragile as glass. "Then how about this..." You pulled him closer with your legs, both of you moaning when his cock parted your folds. "Clark, lets ruin ourselves for anyone else."
"What... do you mean?" His blue eyes were full of hesitation. You quirked your eyebrow at him. "Oh, it's your first time too isn't it? See, that's even more reason why I should-" His breath stopped as you took the big tip of his cock, "Should... what was I saying?" He linked a few times, eyes suddenly only able to look at where your bodies joined, "Gosh."
"How. The. Hell. Are. You. Real." You asked between kissing his square jaw. Clark grinned to himself, squaring his shoulders to appear even bigger.
"I'm from space so I'm not sure myself." Good, he seemed to be a bit more relaxed now. "I know you're trying to calm me down, but I can hear your heartbeat too. It feels like I should be the one calming you down, you're the one who'll take... it."
"It? And what exactly will I take, hm Clark?" Rolling your hips downwards you took him past his cockhead, your pussy clenching and loosening around him.
His blush went all the way down his chest. Clark never cursed, dirty talk was new to him. He did try his best, he knew you enjoyed it, hearing him say all the filthy things.
"My... cock, you'll take as much as you can. I'd love if you could take all of actually! But please don't push yourself to." Always so sweet. You nodded and urged him forward again, little by little, he probably didn't even feel pushing past your hymen but you sure did. "Can I keep going? You got really tight, did that hurt?"
"You... feel bigger than you look. Fuck, I love it. I think I'm already addicted to your big cock." You had no problem admitting that, the heat between your legs, the pressure and fullness was already getting to your head.
"My big... oh my gosh." His eyes shut closed, focusing on how he feels, trying to hone in on the increasing heartbeat, the pulsing and drumming of his own heart. He wanted to be here in this moment, with nothing from the outside world interfering. As he nudged his hips forward he suddenly found them pressed against yours. "Huh? Is it-?"
You whimpered as he tried to move but found he had no more space to do so. "Jesus, Clark, give me a minute."
"Sorry." He smiled from ear to ear, "I just can't believe you actually managed to take me." Clark leaned down for a series of quick kisses. "This feels really nice. Is it nice for you too?"
You bobbed your head and leaned it against his broad shoulder, pressing kisses along the muscle. Since you couldn't bit him your lipstick would be enough. "You can rock back and forth a little, I want to feel you move with me." He waited for you to start but the moment you started moving back he met your hips with his.
There was simply no part of Clark Kent that wanted to be rough with you. It went against his nature. You heard him groan next to your ear when your inner walls fluttered around him, your pussy taking him to the balls and your legs keeping him there. The vibrations seemed like they traveled through his whole body.
Moments after the same happened to you, your body pressing against his, nails raking down his back, "Clar- mmn! Don't move please." You didn't think you'd come so quickly, not with all the toys you used before but it seems neither of them had anything on Clark's real cock. Like a real hero he didn't let go, not until you stopped shaking so he could pull you into a proper, deep kiss.
Your smaller frame was completely enveloped in everything that was him, all his love and gentleness and muscly mass.
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aetherdoesthings · 3 days
Note
did you see the arlecchino animation and teaser??? a;fasjl;f
they make me so sad :(( also, the teaser was hot af tho, had me so downbad. arlecchino's lore is just so 😭
~EL anon
would you like new toys?
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i simped so hard during the animation and teaser i decided to write a mini series fic about arlecchino. i have a lot of thoughts about it and now i'm regretting not taking up your offer lmao
forethoughts: my love language is writing someone an entire fic about them (not really, but i will write you an entire letter).
notes: fem!reader in mind, but gn!. NOT AN x READER!! READER IS A CHILD IN THIS!
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In every cluster of children, there was always one that had trouble making friends. 
That title was unfortunately bestowed upon you.
Always excluded in activities and games, left to play in the corner with the leftover, worn out toys while everyone chose the newest and best toys in the box. It had always been that way; you didn’t see it changing any time.
Father was always more lenient and caring with you. She made sure you were the first in line to get breakfast, lunch and dinner. While everyone had a curfew, you were allowed to wander the halls freely and exit your room. That of course didn’t make it any easier for you to make friends. 
Like a robot given the same set of codes and no changes, days blurred into weeks, and weeks blurred into months while you lived your solitary life. 
~
You sat crossed leg, facing the corner of the playroom, hands empty. You ran out of luck; all the toys were already gone by the time you got to the box. Letting out a sigh, boredom finally consumed you, prompting you to stand up, brush the dust off your shorts as you exited the playroom. No one batted an eye or even glanced at your direction; to them you were invisible. To everyone you were invisible.
Wandering the halls of the House of Hearth at night gave you a pretty good scope on the architecture of the building. If someone asked you where the infirmary was or the bathroom, you could accurately pinpoint the location for them. You looked at the colorful glass panes on the sides of the halls, raising a hand to block the sunlight from hitting your face. They called you a dreamer, delusional for your ideas and thoughts. Said your hopes were far too high. Father always disagreed. Father always disagreed with whatever the others called you.
A sudden shriek was ripped out of your throat as your body went sideways, shoulder hitting an even stone ground. You winced, forcing yourself to sit as you examined your body. You could barely make out what was your leg and arm with the lighting. Standing up, you decided to explore the uncharted territory in your little mind map. The walls were lined with sharp blades that glimmered under the narrow light source opposite to the swords. You looked behind you, to your sides, in front of you, as you allowed curiosity to take hold of your mind. With two hands, you lifted one of the blades from its holding place, letting it fall onto the ground. You dragged the blade along the stone to the center of the room, ignoring the shriek of protest the sword was making. Letting out a deep breath, you gripped your hands around the hilt of the sword, lifting it as high as you could. When you’d finally lift it over your head, a triumphant cheer exited your mouth, eyes admiring the shine and sharpness of the blade like a bee eyeing a flower. 
“Children like you should not be wielding such dangerous objects.” Your muscles went limp, bones turning into uncooked noodles as your head spun to the direction of the voice. Father. Fear wasn’t just done with taking hold of your body. Fear was transmitted into the blade itself. Before you knew it, a sharp pain emitted through your forehead, a rush of warmness surging towards the area. The sword fell on your side, next to your collapsed body.
“Y/N!” Father was instantly by your side. Through that cold and emotionless facade, you could see a flash of worry and fear in her eyes. Fear. Father felt fear. Your head was placed in Father’s arms, knees hooked onto her other arm as you were rushed out of the dark room.
You sat on Father’s table in silence, fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt as you stared at your dirt covered, bruised hands. Father reciprocated the silence, as she stood in front of you, using a cotton ball to dab up the blood. You winced at the serum that was infused with the cotton against your fresh wound, knuckles turning white. Father didn’t let out any remark at your wince, rather you could feel her actions becoming more gentle and tender. 
“This might hurt.” Father muttered, picking up something from her tray of material, the object having a thin string tail behind. You could barely stifle a shriek as the needle penetrates your skin, the lithe object dancing from one side to another, piercing hole after hole in your skin. You gripped onto your sleeve for life until your hand was ghost white, as Father stitched up your wound before you could blink. Father let out a sigh, snipping any remaining string as she set the needle on the tray. Her eyes shifted downwards, her lips pursed as you felt her gaze burning into your skull.
“...I’m sorry.” You murmured quietly, the words regurgitating out of your mouth, unable to squeeze anything out under her gaze.
“I thought I told you that recklessness always leads to failure. What were you doing out of the playroom?”
“...” You could feel the corners of your eyes starting to burn up, your mouth quivering. Father noticed. Of course she did. 
“Look at me.” Father sighed. 
Reluctantly, you lifted your head, meeting Father’s eyes. Instead of scorn and disappointment, you were met with understanding and warmth, her pursed lips turning into a thin smile. Thin. Just like the ice you were on. Father could smile all she wanted, but you knew you were as good as dead.
Father’s hand went for your head, sharp fingers combing through your hair. “What type of toy do you like, Y/N? I am planning to get more for the toybox; it appears we have a shortage of toys. Of course, I would like to get the best and newest toys for all. I was wondering what you would like to see and play with.”
Your heart moved an inch higher from your stomach, still threatening to fall and combust into millions of pieces. “U-Uhm… I d-don’t know…”
“Speak up, my child.”
“I-I don’t know… what toys I like, Father…” 
Father let out a chuckle. “Of course. How could you choose your favorite in an empty box?”
You looked down at her words. Of course Father knew.
“Y/N.”
You looked back up at her, meeting her playful eyes, a look you knew she only gave you and you only. 
“How about I introduce you to some… new toys not any of the other children have seen? Would you like some new toys?”
“Toys… the others haven’t seen?” You tilt your head at that statement.
“Yes. Toys the others have not seen. Are you interested? I will personally teach you how to… play with these toys.”
You nodded your head, a small hesitant smile on your face. Father never offered the other children new toys. Father never offered how to play with toys. Father never played with the others.
The corners of Father’s thin lips tugged upwards slightly, as her finger hovered over your wound. She helped you off the desk, hand holding yours as she led you out of her office. “It is almost time for lunch. But I would rather you get some rest after what happened. Rest assured I will bring food to your room.”
“Y-Yes, Father.” You mumbled.
Father led you to your room upstairs, setting you on the plush mattress as the blanket was draped over your body. She ran her fingers through your hair again, petting your head before strolling out of the room. “Rest well, my child.”
~
Arlecchino closed the door, letting out a sigh. She made her way back downstairs to join the other children. “Rest assured, my child, no one will ever dare to lay a finger on you anymore. No harm shall ever come your way.”
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wtfsteveharrington · 23 hours
Text
take the upper hand | carmen berzatto x reader
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push the reset button we're becomin' something new
description: carmen berzatto is stubborn and anxious and doesn't always know how to express himself. your best friend drags you to a party that carmen knows you'll be at and he shows up to make amends and thank god he does because he saves you from dealing with some drunk asshole.
content warnings: angsty!! drinking/party scene, shitty drunk guy w/ a shitty guy mentality!!, reader gets hit on with one night stand suggestion tones, carmen's ready to swing, mentions of anxiety and jealousy. mentions of reader drinking. kissing, mentions of intimacy related scratches, some light smut references.
author notes: my first time posting something that isn't just smut!! also something that no one but me has read!! normally i always get a proof read, not today. but this idea has been rattling around in my ole noggin' for a minute now so here we are. reminder!! you are responsible for your own media consumption!! if this won't be your jam then there's tons of other fics in the sea (: ily thank you!
even if it's handcuffed i'm leavin' here with you
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
The last place you wanted to be tonight was some house party in Wicker Park. With Pitbull, of all artists, playing so loud in the basement that the floor upstairs was still vibrating. Everything was sticky and stinky and you did not wanna be here.
But your best friend was hooked on this guy from her gym. 
It didn’t help that Carmy recognized his name from high school and mumbled out some remark about, “Oh yeah, no Dave’s a pretty solid guy.” She was convinced it was a sign that they were meant to be. Not to mention she found his mom’s Facebook and a post from two years ago that included his birth time. The whole train ride over you listened to how compatible the two of them were and how much she loved that he was a Scorpio rising. 
She had begged you to come to this God forsaken party and help put in a good word for her. Something had her convinced that if you mentioned just how well you were getting to know Carmen to this Dave guy that he would hold your opinion of her in higher regards.
And sure, maybe there was a part of you that hoped Carmen would be here even while the two of you were feuding. He knew it was coming up but couldn’t promise he’d be off in time - Something you got quite used to. It normally didn’t bother you that he had so many late nights at the resturant but when it rains, it pours and now you’re stuck sitting next to the sink littered cups filled with what can only be best described as some sort of horrific finance bro jungle juice. A mix of 1942 and fresh pressed juice. 
Your nose wrinkles up at the smell but you’re quickly refocused at the booming sounds of Ethan Callaghan stumbling through the back door. Another man Carmy knew from high school but didn’t like as much. Something about always being too in-your-face. Though you were pretty sure he was close with the guy your best friend was currently hooking up with in some random bedroom down the hall. 
The second his eyes land on you there’s a lopsided smile being thrown your way as he tries to fluff his hair and stand up as straight as possible. He’s stumbling into the kitchen with a full drink in hand, droning on and on about how he was ‘just so jealous’ that your friend went into that bedroom earlier. How nice it must be to not end the night alone. No pleasantries at all, just right into the whole lonely and horny act that was grossing you out. 
No one particularly knew you and Carmy were together yet - He wasn’t the type who wanted to label right away and potentially mess things up and you weren’t the type to out your dating status to random drunken men either. Besides, you weren’t so sure that ‘I have a boyfriend’ would put an end to this pitiful man’s sob story. 
As if, on queue and manifested right out of thin air, Carmen rounds the corner and takes a second to soak in the sight in front of him. You’re sitting there with your eyes trained on the water bottle in your hands. Ethan’s yapping away about how pretty you are and how big his apartment is. An excellent view in Streeterville that you’d love to see with the best brunch place in town two blocks away blah, blah, blah. Your shoulders are hunched over, body leaning away from Ethan as he stands at the window watching his reflecting in the window above the sink. 
“Hey - Been looking for you.”
Carmen.
Your head whips around to the sight of his voice instantly. There’s a pang in your chest at the sight of him standing in front of you after you two had been apart for these last few days. He looked tired. Wearing a sweater he knows you love because he wants to look nice for you. God you wanted to run over and crash yourself against his chest. Screw the petty fight. Instead you’re stuck giving him a very pointed look, hoping he takes the hint to save you. 
He’d be lying if there wasn’t a split second where Carmen feared you were actually going to go home with this loser until he saw the panic and annoyance written across your face. Ethan’s laughing at the sight of him. “Hey, Dude. Think we’re all good here, yeah?” Oh he hates this dick. 
There’s a thick level of tension in the room as Carmen squares up his shoulders and steps further into the room. His eyes are trained on Ethan who clearly wasn’t expecting much of a fight out of Carmy. He stops when he’s standing between your knees, putting himself between the two of you. Something about the way he instantly turned possessive turned up a feeling deep in your stomach no matter how annoyed you still were. 
“Pretty sure someone out back was looking for you, Dude. It doesn’t seem like anyone in here wants you around. Now either you’re too fucking dense to realize it or you don’t care that you’re not wanted, but I’m here to let you know. So I suggest running out back and getting the fuck out of our hair.” 
Ethan’s clearly entertained while looking between the two of you, a playful glint in his eye. You’re silently begging him to walk away and find yourself bringing a hand up to put on the small of Carmen’s back. While you’ve never seen him actually fight, you’ve seen many scraps between him and Richie. Heard stories of him growing up and heard the Bachelor party story. 
You’re fine not having your own fight stories to tell. 
T-Pain is now blasting in the background and the contrast of people laughing and singing downstairs versus the situation you’ve found yourself in is making your head spin. The whole time your best friend is clueless and wrapped up in Mr. Scorpio Rising. She owes you big time. Like you’ve secured friend of the year already and she needs to throw a parade in your honor after going through this.
Ethan’s finally putting his hands up in the air, that shit eating grin still plastered across his features. “My bad, my bad. Didn’t know you were already claimed.” Claimed. Gross. Your fingers press into Carmy’s back, a silent plea to beg him not to escalate this even more. He’s laughing at the sight of the two of you before snagging a half finished bottle of vodka off the counter and backing up towards the back door. 
Carmen steps out from between your legs and follows Ethan to ensure he leaves. Shoulders pushed back, chest puffed out. You’d find the sight entertaining if you still weren’t so on edge. Carmen Berzatto, your protector. 
And sure, he’s probably just making this asshole someone else’s problem for the night but he doesn’t care. The main priority is getting you away from him and getting you safe. 
You catch the sight of his curls out of the corner of your eye when Carmen returns and instantly steel your spine. The shift in the air now that Ethan is gone was thick. He was a distraction from the distance between you two but now you’re preparing yourself for another argument when really you had no energy left to give it. There was a small worry that he’d think you gave Ethan any inclination that you were interested. Even though you two had been tense, there was never anyone else but you but him. Even if you’re too stubborn to drop that information just yet.
Carmen’s quiet. His heavy boots against the floor make your heart beat faster. Everyone had scattered out of the kitchen when he walked Ethan out of there but not before giving you two a nervous glance as they went. Some probably disappointed there wasn’t a fight if we’re being honest.
“Hey.” 
You don’t dignify him with a response. Crossing your arms over your chest and taking a sudden interest in the magnets that littered this guy’s fridge. Toying with the idea of putting the ‘Area 51 is for Lovers!’ magnet in your pocket. You figured you deserved something for going through this hell of a night. 
He stops himself once he’s reached your side, the silence awkward and thick in the air. Carmy’s hand is on your knee now, his touch not as firm as you’re used to. The whiplash of emotions once again not helping either of you know just quite where you stand. 
“M’still mad at you.” 
He winces but he knew it was coming. 
The two of you wallow in silence. Carmy’s just about to finally speak but someone stumbles in on the hunt for vodka, takes one look at the annoyance on your boyfriend’s face, before quickly muttering they’ll find it somewhere else. 
And you still won’t look at him. 
He’s grabbing at your waist now, pulling you from the counter and against his chest. You wanna protest but there’s still a buzz going through your body that makes it hard to think quick enough to push back. Plus God does he feel warm and smell so good.
Carmy’s walking backwards towards the fridge, waiting until his back is flush against it to slide down. Bringing down those magnets you wouldn’t stop staring at, family photos, whatever was in his way came with the two of you. He’s tugging you until you’re straddling his waist while he brings his knees up to support you. Grabbing a hold of your face, finally making you look at him and fuck he looks like shit close up. Dark circles, hair a little messier than he’d normally allow, a bit of fear deep in his eyes. 
“You gotta tell me how to fix this.” It’s all unfamiliar territory for him. There wasn’t exactly a good example set for him growing up to say the least. 
Four days ago Carmen watched as the barista at some coffee shop you wanted to go to flirted with you. That shit already annoyed him, but he tried to bite his tongue. Then your latte came out with a heart in the foam and you kept explaining that’s just how they all come out but he was jealous and possessive and didn’t know how to communicate that so instead the two of you fought in the car for an hour. It was so stupid and he’s been kicking himself in the ass ever since. 
The past four days you refused to talk to him and had done a good job at dodging the situation. Normally you two fight, you fuck, and then you pretend everything’s okay. The cycle was getting old and wearing you down.
Until now. 
You give a heavy sigh, reaching out to toy with the bottom hem of his shirt. Carmy really did look like it had been going through it so you’re throwing him a small bone. “Maybe not making me sit on a sticky floor would be a good start.” He’s muttering out this small laugh, thankful to hear anything coming out of your mouth let alone a joke, the sound vibrating against your fingertips and you hate how much it fills your heart. 
He waits for the rest. The other shoe to fall. Every ounce of laughter is gone when you finally collect yourself enough for - “Do you think we’re good together, Carmen?” You can feel him stiffen under you, his hands gripping at your waist because he needs something to give him some stability. 
A beat goes by. “I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Another beat, this time it’s Carmy who refuses to look at you. Eyes downcast and trained on your lap. “But I’m not sure I’m good for you.” You weren’t expecting that. 
Once again silence falls between the two of you, still toying with the hem of his shirt before you lean in to bury your face in the crook of his neck. Taking a deep breath that’s filled with his cologne, faint smoke, and just Carmen that you’ve grown to crave. “You just gotta learn to trust me, Carmen. Outta everyone in this world, I’m the main one who never wants to hurt you. Especially for some barista with a fuckin’ comb over.” 
You hoped he would laugh again, but the sound never comes. Instead you feel his arms go tight around your body, his knees coming up a bit more which makes you fully lean into his chest. He’s clinging to you, wishing so badly he knew what to say (or could let himself) say what he knows he needs to. Instead he’s just pressing a kiss ​​to your head, sighing into your hair. 
“I wanna be better for you. Just don’t know how.” 
The two of you cling to each other and fight to get as close as possible. The distance apart these past four days has left the both of you physically aching for one another. It’s been hours, days of a tense heart and checking phones for texts neither of you knew how to send. You press a kiss against his neck, leaning back just enough to grab his face in your hands and stroke your thumbs over his cheeks. 
“It’s scary for me too, y’know? This, us. You’re not alone in being scared but lashing out at me isn’t gonna solve anything. I’m not going anywhere, Carmy.” You take the first step in mending the relationship by leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. There’s a hand coming up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place as if he’s still scared you’re going to change your mind and run off before he can realize it’s happening. 
He’s letting you take the lead and only deepening the kiss once he feels your hands slide under his shirt. Fingers trailing along the toned skin while Carmey licks your bottom lip. Your hands glide around his back where you’re able to trace over healing scratches left on the skin from your last night together. 
Your lips part and you take the lead once again, letting your tongue slide along his and giving a low moan into his mouth as you taste him. There’s the lingering taste of cigarettes mixed with black coffee and Carmen. Once again indescribable and simply him. His grip on you tightens up in response and you know if you’re not careful then you’ll end up disheveled and tangled up in the backseat of his car or bent over one of the sinks in a disgusting bathroom. Both options you refuse to pick over getting home and letting him properly make this up to you. 
Dragging your nails along the healing marks, Carmen starts to lose track of his kissing. His grip on your neck tightening a bit more, hips rocking up towards you against his better judgement. The motion’s getting needy and sloppy and you have to pull away much to both of your disappointment. 
Shaking your head and bringing your hands up to rest flush against his warm chest. “You’re not gonna fuck me on this nasty floor. I deserve better than this.” Which, of course you do. He just gets carried up when he’s wrapped up in you. He’s nodding in agreement but can’t stop himself from licking his own lips to chase the sensation of you.
He’s looking over your features, his heart picking up pace even more than he thought was possible anymore. “Think you’re meant to be my forever, y’know? Sometimes I look at you and it scares the shit out of me because I look ahead and-... It’s you. Kids sitting at a table in the restaurants doing homework. A honeymoon overseas where I get to drag you around different pasty shops and restaurants and we’ll find random art in flea markets to hang when we get home. Take photos that end up framed. It’s you. Always.” 
Now how are you supposed to be mad when he’s this open and honest. Unpacking a future you had thought only you considered so far. You hope this behavior sticks. It’s not easy for either of you, but it’s worth fighting through the learning curve. “Kids, huh? Multiple? They’ll be your harshest critics, Carmy. I dunno if you can handle their reviews quite yet.” He’s chuckling, shaking his head with a lazy smile. “No, not yet. But one day.” The promise of more between you finally putting an end to this discussion for now. You make a mental note to remember this moment when the two of you bicker in the future - No matter what there’s always more on the road ahead of you. 
Which makes you smile too. Wrapping your arms around his neck. “One day.” You reward him with one more kiss, knowing that’s all the two of you can risk before you end up sprawled out on this floor. 
Carmy’s desperate to keep the lightened mood. He’s giving it a moment for both of you to calm back down from kissing before playfully scrunching up his face. “God you taste like shitty tequila.” It works. You’re laughing and swatting your hand against his chest, feeling a bit lighter than you did when you walked into this place. “Carmen Berzatto be nice to me!” 
He’s beaming at you now. Bright, happy. 
It’s a stark difference from the funk you’d both been stuck in since this fight started. The sight makes your heart swell and you bring a hand up to push some curls back off of his forehead. Leaning in to press a kiss against the tip of his nose. 
“Lemme take you home, yeah? Get you some food on the way? Gotta make sure someone so pretty doesn’t wake up with a hangover.” He loves taking care of you in anyway you'll let him.
You nod and carefully start to shuffle off of his lap. Getting yourself to your feet before reaching down to help tug Carmen up to his feet. You catch as he adjusts himself in his pants, a flush blooming along his cheeks and down his neck. Stepping back in until you’re chest to chest with him, you press a line of kisses along his jaw. Rough stubble going away once you find his lips yet again. You hum against his mouth, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek. “You gotta shave in the morning, Carmy.” He’s nodding instantly, reaching his hand down into his pocket to fish out the car keys. 
There’s a notification lighting up your phone - Perfect timing. A simple “Gonna spend the night ;)” text from your best friend. You can’t help but to grin and roll your eyes, turning the phone around so Carmen can see the notification too. He’s laughing while sliding a hand into your back pocket and starting to lead the two of you out of the kitchen. 
“Yeah, remind me to tell Dave that his friend fuckin’ sucks.” 
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amalthiaph · 2 days
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✨ EDMON RAMPART (Amalthia's Version) ✨ You know I once swore to never draw him, well that was of course before he got the James Norrington treatment so it's the Alexsandr Kallus Effect for me again. Talk about from fuck this man to I wanna fuck this man.
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Teeny weeny fandom salt and salt in general coming up so if you don't like that, you can go scroll down. There used to be a cut here but I removed it. I will always be polite, but I know WHEN to talk.
From now on, I will be calling my fanart "Amalthia's version". I hope I don't come across as tone deaf or insensitive about this, but I wish I was good at art.
I've seen posts that say "I wish artists would stop drawing [character name] with [this] or [that]" or "stop drawing [character] with [this]". While it's great to hear about your preferences, please bear in mind that at the end of the day, fanart CAN BE an artist's take on a character. For me, THIS is how I draw Edmon Rampart. This is with regard to the art style I developed and the color palette that I constantly use to keep up with my blog's theme.
Another ick is an ongoing issue in the TBB fandom. In my Hunter and Omega art, I did something I don't usually do, which is add a secondary light source. A few minutes after posting, I got an anon telling me to unwhitewash the characters. I immediately messaged one of my friends for their honest opinion and they said I don't whitewash the characters. I went on to the drawing file and tried to study my own drawing and see if I really did whitewashed the characters. Edit: There really are some artists who whitewash the characters and I was trying to do a SELF-CHECK bec maybe I'm one of them.
I found out that the thing that made the difference is the secondary light source that I added. This secondary light source is lighter in color than their skin, and it created the Contrast Effect. Due to the nature of the human eye and visual processing by the brain, there's an optical illusion that the same color will look different depending on the color beside it and/or the background. It's in psychology class, paying attention would help.
In addition to the secondary light, it could also be the brown background color that caused this effect. And before anyone goes, "are you sure?" Yes, I am. I sat with a Psychology major to discuss about this whole Contract Effect thing.
This does not only apply in colors, it could also be to objects, that why they say all things are relative. One thing could appear bigger or smaller depending upon the object beside it. One of the things they 'check' to see if a certain artist whitewashed a character is the size of the nose. Once again, please do apply Contrast Effect. Some artist really draw their characters stick-like so try to compare all the noses they had drawn in their entire lifetimes and maybe, just maybe they did draw the noses wide in comparison to their other artworks, it just looks like that because it's part of their art style.
Edit: Please do try to analyze things first before casting down your judgement.
It's so difficult to be an artist AND IN THIS FANDOM. We never seem to be enough. If we do the character with artistic freedom, you'll say "stop drawing them like that bec they don't have that in the show" and when we try to draw them as close to the show, you'll say "unwhitewash the characters". We are never good enough for you.
So yeah, I wish I was good at this.
Link to the rest of this series:
1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 || 15
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bsxcrxts · 3 days
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beautiful
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Tech x fem!reader
MINORS DNI. AGE IN BIO TO INTERACT WITH MY WORKS.
Contains: reader has an afab body, feminine aligned lingerie descriptions, mirror sex, consensual and informed filming of a sex tape, reader who is insecure about their appearance, fingering, piv sex, teasing, questionable Star Wars terminology, fully armored Tech (touch of helmet kink?) and nude reader, Tech praising reader and being a bit of a soft!dom but nothing crazy, classic Tech rambles
Word Count: 2.9k. I was a woman possessed. Can't shut up to save my life
A/N: I'm crazy. He is literally pixels. Not proofread because I'm convinced I've gone off the deep end.
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"I understand there can be an urge to be particularly critical of one's own body, but trust in my assessment that you're objectively very attractive," Tech says.
"I don't know, Tech, I guess I just don't see it," you pout a bit. "I don't think I'm 'all that'. What I've got is fine, I guess. But I have more flaws than features."
Tech's eyes narrow slightly at your phrasing. "In our time together, have I not sufficiently appreciated your beauty?" he asks almost softly, like the idea that he could have somehow contributed to this viewpoint unnerves him.
"It's not you, it's.... it's just the way I've always thought about myself, I guess."
"You are beautiful," Tech insists.
"Alright. Prove it," you answer almost playfully, knowing Tech will take it as a challenge, and curious to see where this will go.
"Prove it?" Tech repeats, and you can already see the wheels turning in that enhanced mind of his, "I can and I shall, love."
"Can't wait to see what you think up," you say, and kiss him lightly on the cheek encouragingly before the conversation moves on to something else entirely, and you put it out of your mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A little more than a week goes by, and you haven't truly thought of the conversation since. Your relationship with your looks isn't necessarily something you like to dwell on, instead choosing to somewhat ignore it and never address your thoughts about your body. Tech, however, hasn't stopped thinking about it; hasn't stopped thinking about ways he could convince you of your own beauty, to make you see yourself as he sees you. And it doesn't help that the idea that he's settled on is particularly filthy, either.
Tech already has an affinity for filming things. Anyone who knows him well will tell you that he's nearly always recording a holo, though he admits his typical motivation is far less scandalous and mostly for strategic purposes. Not this time.
There's a mirror sitting inconspicuously in the corner of the room. He's obtained a gift box containing a very special secret.
Now all he has to do is convince you to play along.
It isn't difficult.
"Do you remember the conversation we had about your perception of your physical features?" Tech ventures late one evening, after a mission. He's not even out of his armor before he can't resist asking. The tension between the two of you is already high; he's watched your eyes rake up and down his form twice in the past fifteen minutes alone.
You look up at him, curious as to where this conversation is going.
"Sure, I remember," you say nonchalantly, not conveying your eager nervousness.
"I believe I have engineered a situation where in I can 'prove' your beauty to you."
"Really?" you raise an eyebrow at him. "Okay, I'm listening."
"A good start... Perhaps you may even wish to do more than listen," Tech says, timber of his voice a bit lower than usual; his tone taking on an inviting and sensual edge, handing over the gift box to you. You feel your face flush as his tone hints at a certain suggestiveness unexpectedly.
This has not necessarily been an easy decision making process for Tech– he's generally confident, yet prone to overthinking when it comes to such gestures, and he hopes he hasn't read this situation wrong. He's comfortable with you, and doesn't want to risk making you feel uneasy or push you to dwell on your physicality unnecessarily. But it was, after all, your invitation that urged him to come up with a situation that 'proved' your physical attractiveness. Nonetheless, he's a touch anxious as you start to tear open the gift he's handed you.
The feeling melts away into a hopeful yearning as he watches your eyes widen and mouth curl into a smile as you hold up the delicate lingerie you've just unwrapped.
"You are beautiful, and the logic follows that you deserve beautiful things," Tech explains.
Your eyes dart over the fabric, or lack thereof, speechless for a moment. "Where did you even find this?" you finally manage to get out.
"Well, that was quite the endeavor. However, I am more interested in discussing whether or not you like it," he answers. "Perhaps you'd like to try it on?" he suggests, not at all inconspicuous.
Nodding, and quickly shutting yourself in the 'fresher, you find yourself staring at the sheer fabric once again. The cut is a bit like an extremely short dress, fabric only just hitting the tops of your thighs, and entirely see-though. The material hugs your chest, plunging far below anything you've ever worn where it ties in the middle. There's a matching thong that barely covers anything, but after you put everything on, you look at yourself briefly and think that you might actually look good.
Not wanting to keep Tech waiting, you emerge from the refresher into your bedroom, shyly crossing your arms in front of your chest, unsure of what else to do.
"Well, here I am," you gesture with a shrug.
You watch as Tech's eyes momentarily roam over your figure behind the amber filter of his goggles, before he pauses to look you in the eyes.
"Exquisite," he breathes, before the questions start. "Do you find the material comfortable? Is it a suitable fit?"
"I don't know if comfort is what the designers had in mind," you chuckle.
"Ah, yes. You bring up an excellent point. Then..." Tech pauses for a moment, motioning for you to step closer to him, and he guides you to where the mirror sits, propped up in the corner of the room. He stands behind you, lightly touching your bare shoulders.
"Does the outfit please you?" he asks lowly, and a heat settles deep in your stomach rather suddenly at his words. There's the solid feeling of his armor behind you, cool against your flushed skin.
Your face heats.
"Sure, I like the way it looks," you concede. And you do; it's a gorgeous set, a thoughtful gift, the way it lays against your skin is mesmerizing, and the way Tech is looking at you right now is striking a need within you.
He notices the way you don't compliment yourself, but the garment instead. But he also notices the way your heart is racing, and how you're looking at his reflection in the mirror. Of course he does; Tech notices everything.
"Thank you, baby," you say in his silence, twisting in his arms and planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Maybe I could thank you properly for it?" you suggest playfully, running a finger down the chest plate of his armor, and it's cheesy, but you often enjoying how Tech reacts to an overt advance.
He seems to ponder for a moment, the corner of his mouth pulling into a slight smile. "There is another element of my proposition I have not yet divulged," he begins slowly, as if he is convinced he'll startle you.
"More surprises?" you banter a bit, but Tech is intensely focused on you.
"Would you like to see yourself as I see you?" he ventures, holding your gaze.
"Meaning..?"
"I would like to record us as we are intimate. I would like for you to see how beautiful you truly are. I would like for you to watch the holo when we are finished and know the adoration and lust I feel for you, mesh'la."
Your face can't get any more hot, blood rushing to your cheeks as you nod, agreeing instantly, wordlessly.
"There is one more thing. I suggest the focus shall be entirely on you this evening."
"Wouldn't say no to that," you laugh a tiny bit, self conscious. You're weak in the knees, leaning forward towards him, hanging on his every word, trusting him though your embarrassment at having so much attention on you threatens to overwhelm you.
"You're even more alluring when you're flustered," Tech confesses, and meets you in the middle, kissing you. For his reserved nature, Tech is a passionate lover, wholly dedicated to you, and when he kisses you like this, you moan softly against his mouth.
When the two of you part, you expect him to remove his armor, strip down as he normally does. But what you do not expect is for him to pick up his helmet and put it on, quickly spinning you around to face the mirror again as he practically drags you onto the bed.
"Tech, what–" you start.
"It is as I have just stated," his voice crackles through the helmet, his eyes intense, "this evening's primary function is to focus on you, and your beauty, love. This is to prevent distractions."
At this, you gasp. You have to wonder if he means that you'd be distracted by him, or if he'd be distracted by you and deviate from whatever plot he's clearly planned for the night. It's very difficult not to be caught up in his reflected image in the mirror before you, the lingerie against his armor painting a stark difference. You've never had him like this, your bare thighs bumping up against his own armored ones, your ass rubbing against his codpiece already.
It's a heady feeling, not knowing how his body is reacting to you, being relegated to seeing the emotions in his eyes only, reflected back to you in the mirror before you.
"Are you ready, love?" Tech's voice breaks your concentration over his body, as he raises a hand to his specs to being recording.
"Yes," you whine, sure you're ruining the scrap of lace that's passing for underwear you've got on, just from the way he's looking at you right now, and he starts recording.
Tech's left arm extends across your chest, palming your tits and pulling you securely against his body. He's still wearing his gloves; the image of the dark, rough fabric against the delicate lace of the lingerie makes your head spin. You watch in the mirror as his other hand leaves the edge of his goggles, trailing down, down, down towards your lower stomach, pausing at the hemline of your already soaked panties.
His touch is light, and you tilt your head back against his shoulder. In the mirror, you can't help but catch his gaze, watching him intently focus on you.
"Don't look at me, look at yourself," Tech instructs as he catches you eyeing him, and your eyes snap back to where his hand rests on your abdomen.
He traces his touch lower still, gloved hand suddenly cupping your sex, drawing his fingers across you still-clothed cunt. He's hardly even touching you, his index and middle finger spreading the fabric tight over your swollen clit, obviously eyeing the way you've already soaked the tiny scrap of fabric. Slowly, he drags a finger along your slit, feeling the wetness there before he shoves the thong to the side, exposing your dripping cunt to your line of sight in the mirror.
"Have you ever seen yourself in such a state, mesh'la?" Tech starts, almost smug. "I know I have evoked a similar reaction in you before, but I doubt you have ever seen the picture you make."
You shake your head slightly, panting as your eyes lock on the way the two of you look together in your reflection. Tech, appearing as composed as ever, the only visible part of his body his eyes, and you, practically dripping in scraps of lace in front him him. He has hardly touched you. It's sin, it's debauchery, it's perfection.
Tech's fingers slide across your clit, and your body practically jolts in his arms.
"What does that word mean?" you choke out.
"Which one?" Tech raises an eyebrow behind his golden google lens, and though you feel ruined already, you don't miss how his tone is blatantly teasing you as if to remind you of his enhanced mind.
"Mm–" you start, cut off by your own moans as Tech's still-gloved fingers rub your clit expertly.
"Enunciate," he comments, and you clench around nothing, Tech having yet to even tease your hole. He's playing with you in a way not unlike how you'd touch yourself if you were alone; but then again, he has always been perceptive, it's almost unsurprising he's memorized the patterns that please you the most.
"Mesh'la?" you repeat, more clearly, trying to focus. "You call me that, sometimes."
"It is Mando'a," Tech states, and begins educating you on the subject, despite his hand being splayed across your cunt and you in his arms. "Mando'a was the native language of the man who was the genetic foundation for all clones. As such, I have found it pertinent to maintain a basic knowledge of terminology. 'Mesh'la' means beautiful, and I call you that because that is what you are."
Your eyes wander to him in the reflection and watch as he explains this, keening against his body, desperately trying to get him to give you more. His intense stare meets yours in the mirror, and unable to help yourself, you let out a moan, turning your head in a futile attempt to kiss him, any part of him, helmet or not.
Tech doesn't allow this break in concentration, no matter how brief.
"You must pay attention," Tech scolds, and moves his hand from your tits to you chin, correcting your gaze. At the same moment, he slides two fingers into your dripping pussy.
It sends shock waves down your spine.
"Fuck," you gasp, writhing against him, skin and lace colliding with the hard plastoid of his armor behind you.
"Look at your pretty little cunt, mesh'la."
Tech doesn't talk like that unless he's becoming an unraveled mess himself. You see an opportunity in his words.
"Look even better with your cock inside me," you whine.
Tech's breath stutters behind you, and one of his hands leaves your body for a moment. You feel him moving behind you, hear the click of him removing his codpiece, and before you can even think, you're pushing your ass back towards him, grinding on his hard cock, finally able to feel him.
A soft gasp escapes from his lips behind the mask, and you barely catch the sound, but it pleases you all the same.
He swiftly removes the ruined thong that's been pushed to the side until now, then pulls at the ribbon at the center of the lingerie, undoing the delicate piece and practically tossing it to the side. You are finally fully exposed against him, and you suspect he is as unclothed as he will ever be during this particular romp, cock rutting between your thighs. Still, he doesn't push into your dripping cunt, just toys with you, running his cock along your folds.
If his intention was to take you apart as you suspect, he is doing an incredible job.
"Fuck me," you cry out as the tip of his cock catches on your clit suddenly as he shifts behind you. "Please just fuck me, I want you," you insist as you stare at your nude form in the mirror, the contrast of Tech's fully armored form with his cock between your legs causing you to try and rock down against him wantonly.
You catch Tech's eyes flutter a bit, and his cock jerks against your pussy. He wants to. But he wants something else more.
"Admit you are beautiful."
"What..?" you practically moan, momentarily forgetting how this all started in the first place. The blinking of his goggles recording the entire session flusters you again.
"Say how gorgeous you are, my love, and I will give you my c-cock."
The stutter is new; his resolve is close to breaking. But he wants.
"I-"
"Do you not think you look beautiful right now? You said it yourself; you will look even moreso on my cock. Say it," he says almost softly, encouragingly, the tone of his voice intoxicating from behind his helmet.
"I-I look... pretty," you concede.
His cock slides into your wet, warm cunt.
"I suppose that adjective is ah-acceptable, but you are more than just pretty," Tech insists, snapping his hips against you, and you watch as his cock sinks into you in the reflection of the mirror, gasping.
"You are enticing." Thrust.
"Stunning." Thrust.
"Perfect." Thrust.
You've never finished so soon. He's hardly been inside you for any time at all before you're clenching around him at his words, moaning his name and gasping as you watch yourself cum around his cock. Tech follows you not long after, pulling out and spilling across your lower back as he relinquishes any semblance of control he's had during the session, moaning your name.
He quickly ceases recording, removing his helmet and softly laying you down on the bed, also taking off some of the more restrictive elements of his armor so he could hold you, no stranger to the potential comfort you might need in the moment.
After a second, you smile softly, and still a bit shyly up at him, leaning in to kiss him as you had not been able to before. When the two of you break from the kiss, Tech is still gazing at you.
"You are very precious to me," he states simply.
"Thank you," you say quietly, tucking your head under his chin. "For all of it."
"Anything, mesh'la."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a/n: um. so. any interest in a bonus drabble where Tech has you watch the holo? (idea courtesy of the lovely Ezra milfgreedo)
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hiya! i'm still pretty new to your blog but i really like your writing! english isn't my first language but i hope my request is still understandable ^^
m!reader (with they/them pronouns if possible 👉🏻👈🏻) is best friends with chan. chan praises the reader in some way and figures out that they have a praise kink so he just keeps praising them to make them flustered all the time (bonus points if he throws in the classic 'good boy')
oh and i wanted to ask if i could maybe be 🦖 anon?
thank you!
It's always been you
Pairing: Chan x m!reader with they/them pronouns (mention of Minsung)
Word Count: 4301
Summary: Chan and you have been best friends for what feels like forever. You long for more, not knowing that Chan feels the same. Minho and Jisung decide to lend you a hand the way Chan and you did for them.
Warnings/Tags: friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, smut, teasing, praise kink, dry humping
A/N: I know we've talked a while ago about this request but I hope I did your wishes for it justice, my dear🖤
do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -
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You hum gently to yourself as you make your way back home, scrolling through your phone as you try to find a good song. A smile covers your lips as your best friend's voice rings through your ears and you can't help the warm feeling spreading through you. Chan invited you over for a movie night with the boys, and you couldn't wait to spend time with them…or him. Being around Chan made you feel things you never felt for anyone else ever before. Those soft brown eyes, beautiful smile, and warm hugs made you feel so loved. You know there's no chance he would ever love you back, but that didn't stop you from gazing after him. 
You reach their dorm, and Minho lets you in, pulling you into a short hug. “Hey, Min.”
“Hey,” he smiles and closes the door behind you. “Channie hyung will be there in a bit. He went out to grab some snacks with Ji,” he explains and pats your back, leading you inside. 
“Oh, okay,” you nod and glance around the living room, where they've already set everything up. “Can I still help with anything?”
“Nah, you're fine,” he tells you and gently shoves you toward the sofa. “Relax, okay? We got it.”
-
“Fuck, Ji, it's getting worse every time they're there,” Chan sighs and grabs some of your favorite cookies. 
“Worse?” Jisung frowns, and Chan nods weakly. 
“Yeah, they're so funny and adorable and so pretty,” he says and glances at his friend nervously. “I really want to be more than just friends.”
Jisung squints his eyes at him suspiciously. “Just sex or more?” he asks quietly. 
“Not just sex,” Chan shakes his head and awkwardly scratches his neck. “I wanna be there for them, make sure they're safe and loved.”
“Why don't you tell them?” he asks curiously. 
“I'm scared of ruining our friendship,” he admits. 
“You will, one way or the other, won't you?” he asks gently. “You'll regret it if you don't tell them, believe me. I could've saved myself a lot of pain if I told Minho hyung a lot earlier.” 
“Yeah, but…I told you Minho loves you. You had some clarity after that,” he sighs softly. 
“I can ask Y/nnie,” he shrugs, and Chan's eyes widen fearfully. “Then I'll tell you, and you can decide what to do with that information.”
“Yeah, okay,” he gives in after a moment. 
-
You look up as they return from the store and smile softly, spotting Chan and giving him a small wave. Chan smiles back, walks past you, and gently pats your head. “Hey, bestie.”
“Hey,” you smile gently, swallowing at the word that once brought you so much comfort but now is a simple reminder of what you didn't have. 
You see Minho greeting Jisung, pulling him into a hug, and gently rubbing his back. He asks him something you can't quite hear, but his eyes are so soft, his voice gentle, it makes your heartache. Minho giggles at Jisung’s answer and cups his face, kissing his forehead. You quickly look away, biting your lower lip. You still remember how happy you were when they got together, but over time it got hard to watch, wishing for something like this with Chan. “Y/nnie, can I talk to you for a second?” Jisung asks as he pulls back. “I need help with something.”
“You're okay?” Minho asks worriedly. 
“I'm okay,” he assures him softly and squeezes his hand. “Come on,” he waves you over. You get up, not noticing Chan's anxious glance as you leave the room. 
Minho glances at him suspiciously. “Oh…that?”
“Mhm,” Chan nods nervously and Minho flashes him an encouraging smile. 
“How could they not love you, huh?” he chuckles compassionately. “Relax, hyungie.”
-
Only a little later, you're back in the living room, trying not to look all too confused. There isn't much space left on the sofa, and Chan pulls you into his lap naturally. You sink back into him and bite your lower lip nervously. Why the hell did Jisung ask if you're in love? With Chan? Was it that obvious? 
You can barely focus on the movie playing and want nothing more but to leave and think this all through. It's over sooner than you thought, and you're all sitting in a circle on the carpet now. 
“Truth or dare anyone?” Seungmin asks, and you curse yourself quietly. Of course. 
“Not for me, I should get -” you start and see Chan's smile fading. 
“You're leaving already?” he asks worriedly, and you nod quickly.
“Oh, come on, Y/nnie,” Jeongin pouts at you. 
“You can't leave already,” Changing protests and places the cards into your circle. 
“Fine,” you give in weakly and sit down next to Chan, who lifts you into his lap rather quickly again. His arms wrap around your waist, and his chin rests on your shoulder. “Clingy,” you comment fondly. 
“Fuck off,” Chan gives back just as fondly. 
The game goes on, and luckily, you're getting easy tasks and questions that don't make you uncomfortable. Jisung is sleeping in Minho's lap by now as the latter plays with his hair, and Felix's head is resting on his shoulder. Seungmin and Innie keep on teasing each other, hoping for the most stupid questions for each other. Changbin is still reading the questions, and Hyunjin giggles every time he shows him beforehand. You're still comfortable in Chan's lap and giggle as Seungmin spins the bottle, and it points at the two of you. 
“That's pretty in the middle,” Changbin states and frowns softly. 
“I can go; I'll take truth,” Chan volunteers. Changbin glances down at the question before grinning. 
“Do you have a crush? If so, who?” he reads out loud, and Chan stiffens beneath you. 
“I do,” he nods, and your throat dries. 
“Who?” Hyunjin asks, pointing out the second part of the question. 
“Someone I know really well,” Chan says, and your heart drops. That could be everyone in this room, and looking at the others, you know it can't be you. There's no chance. You push yourself from his lap before you fully comprehend your thoughts, excusing yourself for the bathroom. Chan glances after you worriedly as you bump into the table on the way out and exchanges a worried look with Minho. 
“I got it,” Minho nods and gently plants a sleeping Jisung into Felix's lap. “You go on,” he tells the rest before making his way upstairs to the bathroom. Minho gently knocks at the door and fondly rolls his eyes as you don't answer. “Y/nnie, let me in,” he says and waits for another moment. “I'll go get Chan if you don't.” You quickly open the door and pull him inside, locking the door again. “Cozy,” he comments teasingly. 
“Why are you even here?” you sigh softly and sit down heavily at the edge of the bathtub. 
“Shouldn't I ask you that? This can't be more comfortable than Chan hyung’s lap,” he says and sits down next to you, shaking his head. “Definitely not.”
“Mhm, you should know, right?” you ask sarcastically, and Minho grins. 
“Oh, I do…I've seen…or felt…everything you dream about,” he chuckles and gently pats your thigh. “I'm with Ji. What's stopping you now, huh?”
“Don't be ridiculous,” you shake your head and sigh heavily. “There's no way on earth Chan would love me and - oh fuck, I sound just like you,” you groan. 
“You do,” he giggles. “And I remember you telling me to get myself together and finally realize how handsome I am.”
“Well, you are, you dumbass,” you roll your eyes at him. “That doesn't exactly apply to me.”
“I think…I know Chan thinks very differently about that,” he says and is quiet for a moment. “So do I, dumbass,” he says and gently smacks the back of your head. 
Minho's words hit you like a wave, washing away the stubborn layers of doubt that had clung to you all evening. Despite the sting of his playful smack, there's an undeniable warmth in his words, an affirmation that maybe, just maybe, Chan might feel the same way about you. 
"But, Min," you start, your voice trembling slightly from the mix of hope and uncertainty, "What if you're wrong? What if he doesn't... What if it's not me he's talking about?"
Minho raises an eyebrow and gives you a look that screams exasperation mixed with fondness. "Y/nnie, when have I ever steered you wrong? Listen, Chan's not as good at hiding his feelings as he thinks. The way he looks at you? I've seen it. It's more than just friendship. This isn’t my talk to have, though, you know?"
You're about to respond, but there's a knock on the bathroom door that makes you both flinch. "It's me," a voice says, one that sends butterflies rampaging through your stomach. Chan.
Minho winks at you and stands up. He walks past Chan with a knowing look as he exits the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. You're frozen in place, your heart pounding so loudly you're sure Chan can hear it.
Chan steps inside, closes the door behind him, and leans against it. His eyes search yours, filled with a nervous energy that matches your own. "Y/nnie, are you okay? I noticed you left suddenly..."
Taking a deep breath, you nod slowly, trying to muster the courage that Minho seemed to think you had in abundance. "I'm okay, Chan. Just... a lot on my mind, I guess."
Chan moves closer, his concern evident. "Anything you want to talk about? You know you can tell me anything, right?"
The sincerity in his voice nearly breaks you. With a shaky exhale, you decide it's now or never. "Chan, I... I need to ask you something. Earlier, when you said you have a crush... was that-"
Chan's face changes then, but before you can interpret it, he lets out a breath he seems to have been holding. "Yes, it's you. It's always been you, Y/nnie. I was just too scared to say anything because I didn't want to ruin what we had."
The words you had feared and hoped to hear tumble into the small space between you, and for a moment, the world stops. Tears prick your eyes, not from sadness but from an overwhelming relief that floods through you.
"Chan, I... I feel the same," you confess, the weight of your unspoken feelings lifting off your shoulders. "I was so afraid you'd never see me that way."
Chan steps forward, closing the distance between you in an instant. His hands cup your face gently, and he smiles - a real, soft smile that you've dreamed of being meant for you. "How could I not? You're amazing, Y/nnie. I've just been an idiot about it."
And then he kisses you, a soft, sweet kiss that promises more. As you melt into him, the fears and doubts of the past fade away, replaced by the excitement of what comes next.
Outside the bathroom, the sounds of the ongoing game and the laughter of your friends continue, a reminder of the world waiting for you both. But for now, in this small, shared space, nothing matters more than the two of you finally bridging the gap between friendship and something much deeper.
When you finally pull away, Chan's grin is as bright as the stars you imagine are shining outside. "Come on," he says, taking your hand. "Let's go back.”
The two of you sit down again, and you lean back against him comfortably. Your eyes meet Minho’s, and you can’t help but beam at him. Minho smiles gently and winks at you, focusing back on the game. Chan gently intertwines your hands in front of your stomach and rests his head on your shoulder. “Tired?” you ask him quietly enough for only him to hear.
“Starting to be, yeah,” he hums quietly. “You wanna stay tonight?” he asks so sweetly there was no chance you’d deny him. 
“I would love to,” you nod.
The evening goes on, but the atmosphere around you is subtly different now. The other guys seem to pick up on the shift; quick, knowing glances are exchanged, and an occasional smirk is poorly disguised as a cough. As the evening slowly comes to a stop, the games gradually transform into yawns and stretching limbs. One by one, the room starts to empty as everyone heads to their room. Changbin claps Chan on the back as he passes by, whispering something that makes Chan chuckle and squeeze your hand tighter.
Once the room is empty, Chan shifts slightly, turning to face you. "So, what do you want to do?" he asks, his voice low and warm. "We could start another movie, just the two of us, or maybe just talk?"
"The talking sounds nice," you reply, smiling at him
Chan nods in agreement and stands, leading you to his room. You’ve been here so often before, but you never fail to feel at home here. He shuts the door behind you and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the space next to him.
You join him, feeling a blend of excitement and nervousness. "I'm really glad you're here," Chan begins, turning to you with a beautiful smile that makes your heart flutter. "I've wanted to talk like this for so long but didn't know how to start."
"Me too," you admit. "I always wondered what this would be like, talking to you like this, knowing we both feel the same way."
Chan reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I've been so scared of messing things up," he confesses. "I didn't want to lose you by taking a step that might have been too much, too soon."
You nod, understanding his fears because they mirror your own. "But we didn't mess it up, did we? We're here now, and it feels right."
"It does," he agrees, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of relief and happiness. "It feels perfect."
"What do you think will happen with us?" you ask a small part of you needing reassurance that tonight's magic will extend beyond dawn.
Chan squeezes your hand, his gaze steady. "I think we're going to be great," he says. "We already know each other so well, and we care about each other. We just have to keep doing what we're doing."
"I love that," you whisper, leaning your head against his shoulder.
"I love you," Chan says softly, the words spoken so naturally, echoing through the quiet room.
"I love you too, Channie," you respond, turning to face him. Your eyes meet his in a look that feels like a promise. He smiles sweetly, dimples showing, and gives you another quick kiss.
Chan stands up and offers you a shirt to sleep in, his shy smile making you laugh. You change and slide under the covers beside him, his arm coming around to hold you close.
The comfort of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart soon draw you into slumber, the challenges of the day fading into the peace of the night.
Two weeks later
You’re at the kitchen table with Minho, whispering the details of Chan’s and your first kiss and talk to him. You haven’t really had time to before with Minho gone for a few days. Minho listens curiously, nodding along, and you can tell he’s happy for you. The rest slowly join you for breakfast, and then Chan comes back from his shower after his gym session. His curls are still damp, a bright smile covering his face as he sees you. He passes you, gently squeezing your shoulder. “Morning, pretty,” he says softly, and you can’t help but feel flustered. A quick kiss to your temple follows, and he’s gone again already, getting himself something to drink. 
Minho notices the blush settling on your cheeks and giggles. “That easily?” he asks, amused. 
You gently shove his shoulder. “Shut up,” you mutter. “I’m not used to it.”
“Mhm,” he hums, still giggling softly.
It gets worse as Chan slips into the chair next to you, flashing you a bright smile and casually resting his hand on your thigh. “You slept well, beautiful?” he asks, not noticing the blush on your cheeks deepening. 
What the hell? Why were his simple words causing such warmth to spread through your body? Why are you blushing so hard after a few kind words? His eyes meet yours, and your stomach tightens at the love in them. Fuck.
“Yeah, did you?” you ask shyly.
“Of course, you’ve always been amazing at cuddling,” he compliments you, and you subconsciously shift in your chair. 
You manage a small smile in response to Chan’s gaze, the affection evident in his eyes almost too much to process so early in the morning. He chuckles softly, his hand squeezing your thigh reassuringly, a simple gesture that somehow speeds up your fluttering heart.
“Sorry,” he whispers, leaning in so that only you can hear, “I didn’t mean to make you blush this much.” His voice is a blend of amusement and tenderness, sending a shiver down your spine. You can't help but feel a little overwhelmed by how natural it all seems to him, this newfound closeness between you.
“It’s okay,” you assure him. 
“Are you sure, pretty boy?” he asks and your lips part softly, eyes widening a little. 
“Channie,” you whisper softly, shaking your head. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?” he asks, a knowing smirk lacing his features. “I’m just saying what I see.”
Your teeth bury into your lower lip as you feel the earlier shyness shift into something much stronger. Chan was getting you all worked up over nothing, and you’re not even done with breakfast yet.
“Give them a break,” Minho leans over suddenly, rolling his eyes playfully at Chan. “You’re getting them all worked up at the breakfast table; behave,” he says quietly enough only for the pair of you to hear.
Chan’s eyes widen, lips parting in a silent ‘oh’ as he picks up on the effect his words have on you. He leans closer to you, his breath tickling your neck. “Didn’t know you had a thing for praise.”
“Me neither, now shut up,” you plead softly, shifting in your seat and pulling at your shirt to cover your lap. Chan’s low chuckle sends shivers down your spine, and you flinch as his hand moves up your thigh. You gaze at him nervously, but Chan doesn’t even glance in your direction, talking to Seungmin opposite him. By now, you can’t get up to escape the possibility of getting caught because you’re slowly growing hard.
Your breath hitches as you try to focus on anything but the warmth of Chan's hand, your body reacting despite the semi-public setting. It's a thrilling yet terrifying mix of emotions, the fear of being noticed wrestling with the pleasure of Chan's subtle touches.
"Hey, you okay?" Seungmin's voice cuts through your haze, and you snap your attention back to him, nodding quickly, too quickly.
"Yeah, just... thought I saw something outside," you stammer, hoping your voice doesn't betray the flush of heat crawling up your neck. Chan smirks slightly, his fingers pausing as if he's aware of your struggle to stay composed.
The rest of the breakfast passes with a sort of hushed intensity, your mind whirling with Chan's teasing and the palpable connection that seems to have everyone subtly glancing your way every so often. You're grateful when the meal finally ends, and there’s an opportunity to escape the intensity of the kitchen.
Chan stands and stretches, his shirt lifting slightly to reveal a sliver of his abdomen. You have to force your gaze away, feeling the heat in your cheeks intensify. "Wanna go upstairs?" he asks, his voice low, meant only for your ears. You pull at the hem of your shirt, nodding shyly and biting your lower lip in anticipation. Chan giggles and pulls you into a tight hug, whispering to you as some of the boys are still here. “Didn’t know you’d be able to hide it so well,” he tells you, hand running down your back. “Think you deserved yourself a reward, pretty boy?”
“Please,” you whisper, burying your flushed face in his shoulder. 
“If you’re good and keep quiet, I’ll help you out,” he whispers, and you tense in his arms, biting your lower lip hard. 
Your body reacts with a shiver at the promise in his words, the idea alone enough to draw a deep, yearning ache from within you. You nod against his shoulder, unable to speak, your heart pounding fiercely in your chest.
Chan leads you quietly upstairs, his hand gripping yours with a reassuring firmness. You pass a couple of the guys lounging in the living area, completely oblivious to the charged atmosphere between you two. Once inside his room, Chan locks the door with a soft click, the sound echoing slightly in the stillness.
"Sit down," he directs gently, pointing to the edge of his bed. You obey, watching him with wide eyes as he kneels down in front of you. His hands rest on your knees, his touch light but sending waves of anticipation through your body.
"How quiet do you think you can be?" Chan asks, his voice low and teasing, his breath warm against your skin as he leans closer.
"I'll be quiet," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the effort of keeping your composure.
Chan smiles, that knowing, mischievous grin that always sets your heart racing. He slowly moves his hands up your thighs, his fingers brushing the fabric of your sweatpants tantalizingly slow. The touch is light, almost teasing, but it’s enough to make you gasp softly.
"Shh," he hushes, his lips brushing against your ear, sending another shiver down your spine. "Remember, you need to be quiet."
You nod, biting your lip hard to stifle any further sounds. Chan’s hands continue their exploration, now slipping under your shirt to trace the lines of your stomach up towards your chest. His touch is feather-light, yet every nerve in your body screams for more contact, more pressure.
Without warning, he presses down more firmly, his palm flat against your chest as he pushes you gently back onto the bed. You go willingly, your body already on fire from his touch, your breathing heavy but controlled as you try to keep your promise.
Chan climbs onto the bed, straddling one of your thighs as he leans over you, his face just inches from yours. “Still doing okay?” he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.
“More than okay,” you breathe out, the proximity of his body making it hard to think about anything but the feel of him against you.
Grinning, Chan shifts his weight, and you feel the firm pressure of his thigh between yours, exactly where you need him. He watches your face closely as he begins to rock gently, the friction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your hands find his hips, gripping him, guiding him into a rhythm that has you biting down on your lip to keep silent.
The room is filled with the soft sound of fabric moving against fabric and Chan's steady, controlled breathing. You keep your eyes locked on him, getting lost in the intensity of his gaze as he moves against you. Each motion is deliberate, calculated to drive you closer to the edge without tipping you over too soon.
Chan’s hands are on your hips now, his fingers pressing into your skin, his grip firm and possessive. He leans down to kiss you, slow and deep, his lips moving against yours in a dance that mirrors the movement of your bodies. You respond eagerly, the kiss muffled enough to keep your moans contained.
As the pressure builds, Chan’s movements become more urgent, his body pressing harder against yours. You feel a warmth spreading through you, a tingling sensation that starts deep within and radiates outwards. Your grip on him tightens, and Chan breaks the kiss to look at you, his eyes intense.
“Shit, Channie,” you whisper, almost feeling dizzy at the intensity of finally being this close to Chan. 
“Shh, be a good boy, yeah?” he asks softly, biting back a moan himself as he rocks his hips.
“Close,” you manage to whisper, and he nods, his movements becoming even more focused. You arch into him, your mouth opening in a silent cry of release as waves of pleasure wash over you. Chan holds you through it, his body a steady presence as you tremble beneath him. Chan buries his face in your chest with a soft, punched-out sound as his body shivers, stumbling over the edge. 
When you finally relax back onto the bed, Chan’s face is flushed with his own exertion, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He kisses you softly, tenderly, a stark contrast to the urgency of moments before.
“Was that quiet enough for you?” you ask, a playful note in your voice despite your exhaustion.
“Perfect,” Chan confirms with a chuckle, his forehead resting against yours. “Absolutely perfect.” You both lie there for a moment, catching your breath, the only sound in the room now the quiet hum of the house around you. Then, with a gentle nudge, Chan encourages you to sit up. “Come on,” he says, his voice gentle. “Let’s clean up a bit, then we can go back down. They’ll wonder where we’ve vanished to.”
“Yeah, okay,” you giggle softly, smiling into the loving kiss he gives you before slipping out of bed. Yeah, you could get used to this and so much more.
MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES
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misshoneyimhome · 1 day
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can we get some brothers best friend action with will?
where reader is mitch marner’s twin sister, and for as long as every one can remember, william and reader have always silently swooned and liked one another, and constantly blatantly flirted with each other. but reader had a long-term boyfriend, who might i add is/was super toxic and she physically couldn’t break up with him in fear he’d hurt her… so when they eventually did break up after he had done something bad to her, she ran to will’s apartment, not knowing who else to go to.
“No, I’m not leaving you like this.” Will
“Just tell me what you want.” Will
“I want you.” Reader
Absolutely, we can! Well, at least I hope we can 💓
I tried to portray your idea, but I wasn't sure if I made it too heavy 😅 I'm typically not into darker themes, but I found my thoughts naturally drifting in that direction 💓😉
If there was meant to be more of a smutty undertone, please let me know - I believe there could be a continuation, but I didn't feel it would mesh well with the dramatic scene 😉
Tropes & warnings; friends to lovers; mild abusive!boyfriend, toxic relationship; language, hurt emotions; happy ending, I promise!
Word count; 3.1K
Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50, @findapenny
・✶ 。゚
Storm & Thunder - “No, I’m not leaving you like this!” I William Nylander 🖋️🔥
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For as far back as anyone could recall, there's been an undeniable connection between you and William Nylander. Growing up as Mitch Marner's twin sister, your life was closely linked to his from the early days of being drafted. And ever since the chemistry between you and William was unmistakable, simmering quietly beneath the surface like a promise yet to be fulfilled.
It all started innocently enough, with playful teasing and banter exchanged during family dinners and time spent in the hockey community. Initially, you were just friends; William saw you as nothing more than his good friend’s sister, and you were happy with that. However, as time passed, something changed between you, developing into a deeper, more significant bond.
It was in the stolen glances across crowded rooms, the gentle touches when passing each other in the hallway of the training arena or after games, and the way your heart would skip a beat whenever he flashed his trademark smirk at you.
And you knew you weren't alone in sensing the magnetic attraction between you. William's gaze lingered a fraction longer than necessary, his smile slightly softer when directed at you. Though neither of you dared to articulate your feelings, the truth was apparent in the way your bodies drew closer together, pulled by an invisible force that seemed to strengthen with each passing day.
Even your friends and family couldn't deny the vibe. They shared knowing glances whenever you and William were in the same room, nudging each other with sly smiles as if to say, "I knew it."
But despite the undeniable chemistry and the encouragement from those around you, something held you back—a silent agreement that neither of you dared to break. Maybe it was the fear of messing up a good thing, or perhaps it was the uncertainty of what lay beyond the boundaries of your friendship. Mitch had never outright forbidden you from dating his teammates, but there was a lingering sense of loyalty, a feeling that taking things further with William might upset the delicate balance of your relationships.
So, you and William circled around each other, caught in a never-ending game of cat and mouse where the stakes were higher than either of you cared to admit.
Timing, in particular, had never been on your side.
Despite the undeniable connection between you and William, there was one unsurmountable obstacle standing in the way - your boyfriend, Marc, who cast a dark shadow over your life.
At first, Marc seemed like a dream come true. As the true gentleman he was, he showered you with attention, affection, and gifts, making you feel incredibly fortunate. The sex between you was nothing but amazing and intense, dare you say, almost addictive. And his presence in your life gradually expanded, until it felt like he was a permanent fixture in your small studio apartment.
However, as time passed, his once-charming facade began to crack. He became possessive, demanding, and controlling, suffocating you with his actions and leaving scars deeper than any physical wound could. You weren’t allowed to socialise freely with your friends, your work hours were restricted to 9-5, and attending hockey games was only permitted on weekends, if at all.
You attempted to break free from his grip numerous times, but each effort only seemed to tighten the chains that bound you to him. Marc wielded power over you with precision, manipulating your emotions and exploiting your vulnerabilities until you felt unworthy of anything better.
He was a skilled manipulator, a true narcissist who thrived on exerting dominance over you, leaving you feeling powerless and isolated in your suffering.
You weren’t entirely naïve, though. Deep down, you did recognise your own worth. You knew you deserved love, respect, and care. Yet, the fear of Marc's anger, his violent outbursts, and the harsh words he directed at you, kept you ensnared in a cycle of psychological abuse and manipulation.
The thought of what he might do if you tried to break free, of the repercussions that would surely follow if you dared to defy him, was unbearable. So, you remained, trapped in a prison of your own creation, suffocating under the weight of a love that had turned toxic long ago. And as days melted into weeks, and weeks into months, you began to lose hope that you would ever find a way to escape his grasp and reclaim your life.
Yet, even in the darkest moments, amid the suffocating despair, there was a glimmer of hope—a lifeline that you clung to with all your strength. And that lifeline came in the form of William Nylander, the Swedish figure who had always seen beyond the façade you'd constructed around yourself and into the depths of your true self.
He understood the truth, perhaps better than anyone else. Not even Mitch, your own twin, could grasp the extent of your suffering, but William did. He noticed the faint bruises beneath your sleeves, the forced smiles that failed to reach your eyes, and the way you flinched at the slightest unexpected noise. Although Marc had never physically harmed you, his tendency to grab onto you had left marks on your arms.
"Try and leave him, y/n/n – we’re all here for you," William would gently urge you, his voice a comforting salve to your wounded spirit, fully aware that leaving wasn't an easy choice for you to make.
"I-I can't, Willy," you'd sob, tears choking your voice as you sought refuge in his embrace, your heart burdened with the dread of what awaited you at home.
William grasped the complexities of your predicament and proceeded with caution, never pushing you beyond your boundaries but always offering steadfast support.
Through every tear and every outburst, he remained by your side, a guiding light in the darkness threatening to engulf you. His mere presence dispelled the shadows, reminding you that you weren't alone in your struggles. 
Though you struggled to articulate your gratitude, he didn't need to hear the words. His deeds spoke volumes, a silent vow that he would never desert you, no matter how fierce the storm raged around you.
And as days turned into weeks, you found solace in William's companionship, seeking refuge in the warmth of his embrace and the security of his apartment nearly every day. With Marc increasingly absent, claiming to be preoccupied with his newfound interest in golf with his co-workers – or so he called her – your time with William became more frequent and precious. You even managed to spend more time at the Ford Performance Center and the Scotiabank Arena along with the rest of the players and friends.
In those moments, surrounded by his laughter and the camaraderie of the team, you experienced a peace that had long eluded you. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you could smile without the weight of the world pressing down on you, laugh without fearing retaliation, and simply be yourself without the suffocating presence of your toxic boyfriend looming over you.
It felt liberating. It felt like the right path. And as you snuggled closer to William on his spacious sofa one evening, his reassuring presence soothing your tired soul, you dared to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, there was hope for a brighter tomorrow.
-
However, the next night, everything collapsed like a house of cards.
It began like any other disagreement, a petty argument over insignificant matters that somehow escalated into a full-blown confrontation. How it had started was a blur, lost in the fog of anger and frustration that clouded your mind. But as the voices grew louder, so did the intensity of your emotions.
Marc's accusations struck deep, his words piercing your heart like daggers. He blamed you for spending too much time with the Maple Leafs and their partners, alleging that your passion for hockey was abnormal and unhealthy. But you knew the truth. He was simply envious of your brother's success, resentful of the bond you shared with Mitch, and the happiness you derived from supporting him at the arena where you had spent countless years together.
And in that moment, something within you snapped. Years of suppressed frustration and bitterness erupted to the surface, igniting a tempest of emotions that threatened to engulf you both. You couldn't stand by and allow him to diminish the one thing that brought you happiness, the one thing that had been a constant source of comfort and support throughout your life.
With tears streaming down your cheeks and your heart pounding in your chest, you found yourself standing up to him in a way you never thought possible. It was as if you had grown wings, emboldened by his words and fuelled by a newfound sense of defiance. You refused to let him dictate the terms of your life any longer, to control what brought you joy and fulfilment.
In a voice filled with determination, you shouted back at him, each word echoing like a battle cry against the tyranny of his dominance. Though your hands trembled, and your knees threatened to give way, you stood your ground, unwilling to yield in the face of his aggression.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you felt a glimmer of hope kindle within you, a beacon of light in the darkness that had threatened to consume you.
“Why the fuck do you even care, Marc? You're always at work, with your colleagues, or with some other whore you've picked up! You don't even love me; you don't even want to fuck me! Why can't you just leave me alone? I don't want you in my life! You're not some gift from God to the wor-"
And then it happened. Like a bolt of lightning, as the words poured from your lips, fuelled by years of pent-up frustration and resentment, Marc silenced you with a swift, forceful slap across your cheek.
The sting was sharp, cutting through your skin like a hot iron. Your hand instinctively rose to cradle the tender flesh, the red mark a painful testament to the violence just inflicted upon you. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, your eyes swollen and puffy as the reality of the situation began to sink in.
The room descended into silence, as the only sound was the distant hum of the city beyond. You stood frozen, unable to move as shock and fear gripped you in their icy hold. Your mind screamed at you to flee, to escape the danger lurking in his gaze, but your body remained rooted to the spot.
Then, you noticed it—the spark of something sinister igniting in his eyes, a predatory glint that sent a chill down your spine. And suddenly instinct took over, adrenaline flooding your veins as your heart raced in your chest. Without hesitation, you turned and ran.
The fight-or-flight response kicked in, and in that moment, flight was your only recourse. Your feet pounded against the pavement, carrying you forward with a speed you didn't know you possessed. You had to get away, to break free from the toxic and perilous situation that had ensnared you for too long.
And as you vanished into the night, seeking refuge from the tempest raging both inside and out, you knew there was only one place you could go: to William's.
You knew you must have looked a sight: eyes swollen and puffy, tears still tracing down one cheek, the other flushed red from Marc's blow. Rain had soaked your hair, leaving it a tangled mess against your face, while your sweater clung damply to your body. Even your homey sandals couldn't escape the rain, their socks sodden from your frantic escape.
The train journey dragged on, each stop feeling like an eternity. Anxiety gripped you tighter with every passing moment, your mind overrun with a whirlwind of thoughts and fears. You couldn't help but keep checking over your shoulder, heart pounding with the dread of Marc following you.
And upon arriving at your destination, you wasted no time, hastening towards the familiar safety of William's apartment building. Fortunately, the guard recognised you despite your dishevelled state, offering a sympathetic smile as he opened the door, though you were too consumed by your turmoil to acknowledge his kindness.
Breathless and trembling, you rode the lift to the upper floor, each second feeling like an eternity as your heart continued to race in your chest. The journey blurred by, your mind struggling to process the night's events and the enormity of what had just occurred.
And finally, you stood before William's door, your hand hesitating for a moment before instinct propelled you to knock softly against the wood. As you waited for him to answer, a single plea echoed in your mind: please, let him be home.
"Y/n? Shit, what's happened?" William's voice was filled with concern as he swung the door open, taking in your dishevelled appearance. "Fuck, come in."
But you were frozen, your body unable to respond as the realisation dawned that you might finally be safe, yet still unable to shake off the shock.
And William sensed the gravity of the situation, approaching you with cautious steps, mindful not to startle you further. He stood calmly, giving you the space, you needed to ease out of the grip of the adrenaline rush.
Words caught in your throat, the weight of the ordeal bearing down on you heavily. You wanted to explain, to recount the nightmare that had unfolded, but fear and uncertainty barricaded your words. Yet, as you stood there, trembling and teetering on the edge of collapse, William's reassuring presence began to seep into your core, offering the comfort you so desperately needed.
"It's... Marc," you managed to choke out, tears once again streaming down your cheeks. "He— he hurt me..."
The words hung in the air, the truth settling heavily between you like a dark cloud. In that moment, William's expression transformed, a mix of anger and concern contorting his features.
"What?" he exclaimed sharply, his eyes flashing with fury. "He hit you?"
"Yes... I'm... I'm sorry... I didn't know... where else to go..." you whispered.
William felt a fire ignite within him at the revelation, a fierce protectiveness washing over him as he fought the urge to seek retribution against the man who had dared to lay a hand on you. But he knew that now wasn't the time for vengeance. Now was the time to comfort you, to ensure your safety and well-being above all else.
So, with gentle motions, he wrapped an arm around you and slowly guided you into his condo, his presence a comforting shield against the turmoil. Seating you on the sofa, he enveloped you in his embrace, his touch offering solace amidst the chaos.
Though familiar with such scenarios, tonight felt weightier than usual. Your boyfriend's actions had crossed a line, and it was time for decisive action. William simply couldn't bear seeing you in such distress any longer. You, whom he loved so deeply, deserved nothing but happiness. And he was determined to see that you received it.
And with every passing second, his soft whispered reassurances began to ease the tension, as he draped a blanket over your shoulders, and you felt a warmth spreading through you.
However, as you sat there, enveloped in the comforting silence, guilt gnawed at your insides like a relentless beast.
"I'm so sorry, Willy... I-I didn't mean to ruin your evening," you spoke softly, regret tingeing your voice.
"Hey, you're not ruining anything," William replied, his tone tender and reassuring, yet you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze.
"Yes, I am... I'm always just intruding on your life with all my problems," you sighed heavily, the weight of your burdens pressing down on you. "You should just leave me alone, Willy... I'm just 50 shades of fucked up..."
"No, I'm not leaving you like this," William interjected firmly, his voice brooking no argument.
"Please, I don't want to be a burden to you anymore..." you pleaded, your voice tinged with desperation, a bit louder this time.
"Then what do you want?" William asked, his gaze unwavering as he searched your face for answers.
"I-I don't know..." you admitted, feeling lost and uncertain amidst your turmoil.
"Come on, y/n, just tell me what you want," William urged, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions.
And then, in a moment of raw vulnerability, the words spilled from your lips without hesitation.
"I want you," you confessed, your voice stronger than a whisper, finally meeting his gaze.
"You have me... You've always had," William replied softly, meeting your eyes with unwavering sincerity.
"No, I want to be with you, Willy..."
In that moment, as your eyes locked, a wave of comfort washed over you, a sense of peace settling over your troubled soul like a gentle caress.
You had finally vocalised what you'd been longing to say for so long, the ties with your boyfriend holding you back now severed. But now, you were free. And your first act of freedom was to express to William how deeply you desired him.
"I'm sorry... I just... I know I've been nothing but a burden to you all these years," you confessed, attempting a half-smile. "But... I've always... I've always been in love with you... I guess I've just never... been able to say it... out loud."
It was a tremendous relief, and you felt the weight lift from your shoulders. And as much as joy stirred within you, William too released a sigh he'd been holding onto for years.
"I'm in love with you too, y/n... I always have been," he revealed, flashing you a tender smile, before he gently leaned his forehead against yours, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek. "I love you so much, and all I want is for you to be happy."
Drawing back slightly, you locked eyes with his deep ocean blue gaze. "You make me happy, Willy... You always have," you exhaled softly. And with the floodgates open, you couldn't contain the emotions any longer. "You've always been there for me... and I can't put into words how much it's meant... you're my soulmate..."
William offered you a wider smile, his lips drawing closer to yours. "And you're mine..."
It was the moment you'd yearned for, and now, after an evening filled with thunder and heartache, the universe had healed the wounds and guided you to where you truly belonged: with William Nylander. And as your lips met in a tender kiss, sharing the warmth of your breath, you knew without a doubt that you had finally come home.
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billthedrake · 2 days
Text
MY SON THE PORN STAR (PART FIVE)
I tried not to go wild. I still was married and still had my normal corporate guy life in Kansas City.
But doing porn turned out to be addictive. It was the combination of a deep exhibitionist streak I was discovering in myself and the access to incredibly hot men willing to suck me or get fucked by my big tool. It made me feel like a total stud... less middle-aged, I guess.
And work trips were the perfect cover. I really was doing the road warrior thing for my company, so I wasn't lying to Kate THAT much. But I did sometimes add a night to my travels.
Like the week after Easter. I had a business trip to Denver, but I added an extra evening and squeezed in a quick connector flight to San Francisco on my dime with miles. Muscle Pup Mike, my son's friend and escort/pornstar buddy, set me up with a versatile OnlyFans star there. I shot two scenes with him, actually, one oral, one with me masked as we had a nice, long 50-minute fuck scene. I didn't feel a deep chemistry with Kevin, aka "Jeff Reed," but I felt a deep chemistry with the two cameras that were on us. Besides, sex with a muscular 28-year-old hunk was hard to beat.
Turns out, the next night would beat it. I flew to Denver bright and early in the morning and had my sales meeting all day. I was rolling my business-style carry on into my hotel room right around dinner. I undid my tie and sat down to unlace my shoes before calling Kate to check in.
Yeah, I felt pretty bad knowing I was stepping out behind her back. I'd deal with that guilt later. Either stopping porn cold turkey or making a break or separation with my wife. At this point I wasn't ready to do either.
I wasn't a frequent poster, but managed a video every 2-3 weeks. And I had a growing following of fans willing to pay a modest subscription for just that. Sure, I got some comments complaining that I never took my mask off, but apparently I had the body and blond-furred looks a lot of guys went for. And my cock size helped - a lot. I was careful about not talking on camera, or I just edited those parts out, but I'd learned to be verbal with my grunts, to show appreciation for my sucker/bottom and to let viewers get that thrill. It worked.
I sat, alone in that quiet hotel room, thinking just how wild my double life had become, and I fiddled with my phone again. Chicago was an hour ahead and now would probably be a good time to call. I pulled up Travis's contact and FaceTimed him.
"Hey Dad," my son greeted.
"Hey," I said, leaning back and feeling my boner ride up in the crotch of my trousers. "I didn't catch you at a bad time, I hope?"
"Nah," he said. "Just getting back from the gym." Indeed, he had a workout zip-up on and I could see the familiar kitchen from his condo in the back.
"All sweaty?" I teased.
That got a laugh out of my son. He was surprised how horny I was sometimes, how much I'd leaned into this weird affair we had going on. "Something like that. How'd your shoot go?"
"Real well," I replied. "Kevin is a real professional. Made it easy."
"Just a professional?" Travis asked, with a teasing smile on his cute face.
"Just fucking," I said. "Not a ton of chemistry, I'm afraid, but I think I got some good footage for the next two vids." I'd always sent Travis the digital files via encryption, and he did the editing magic on the material. As amazing as my son was at being on-screen talent, he also had a knack for making great porn behind the camera.
"Don't take this the wrong way, Dad," he said. "But I think you're a natural adult performer."
I smiled. "Is that what the kids call it?" I joked.
That made my son laugh. I loved seeing and hearing his laugh. "OK... you're a natural porn star, Dad.... You know, it's really hot to say that. I get so hard watching you perform, you know."
My throat got dry. Travis knew how to work me up. "Jesus, Trav. You have no idea how much I've watched your videos."
That made my son laugh again, those dimples forming. "I have a pretty good idea, Dad. You've told me before."
"I lied," I teased. "I figured if I told you the real number, you'd get freaked out."
"Turned on is more like it, Dad," Travis said. "Why don't you show me how much you like em. You hard now?"
"Rock hard," I said. I turned the phone down to show off the rod forming a ridge in my trousers.
"Fuck," Travis hissed. "My dad has a real porn star dick. I have a shoot in a couple of hours. I'll definitely be thinking of your cock."
"Who's it with?" I asked. This was the wild phase Trav and I were at now. Father and son, lovers, flirts, and professional colleagues in the adult entertainment business.
"Bud and Spike," he said. I recognized the screen names of two muscle daddies from Dallas, into the more hardcore stuff.
I made a wince of an expression. "Go easy with those guys, buddy," I said. "For real." I felt strangely protective of my son. Which was weird, because in general he was the one looking out for me as I began doing porn more regularly.
Travis smiled. "I will, Dad. Promise. We're planning a more vanilla scene than they normally do." He gave me a wink. "Listen, I gotta go get ready, actually."
"All right, buddy," I said. I wished we had time for some phone sex because just talking to Travis was turning me on big time. "I can't wait to see your scene. And I'll be in Chicago in a couple of weeks. We'll catch up then, OK?"
"You bet, Dad," he said. "Love ya."
"Love ya, too, Big Guy."
We hung up.
I let out a hiss of air. I was horny now. Turns out "Jeff Reed" hadn't drained me. I did have a back up idea. There was some University of Colorado kid who'd been emailing me on the anon account Travis set up for me and linked to my OnlyFans. Call me a narcissist, but I'd been eating up the fan mail, and something about this college dude Bryan won me over. Maybe it was the pics he sent. Cute as fuck, brown haired, boy-next-door looks. And the nude pics that showed a surprisingly built body for a college kid - either a jock or someone who hit the college gym regularly. Smooth body with just a dusting of a treasure trail, creamy white skin, washboard abs, hard cock, amazing bubble ass.
Or maybe it was the request that I hit him up if I was ever in the Denver area.
So far I'd only done pro-amateur porn stars in the OF circuit my son and MusclePup Mike worked in. Some of it was the self-justification that it wasn't fully emotional cheating, just porn I was doing. Some of it was caution. All the arrangements went through Mike and because of my mask, no one knew my identity.
But I was horny now and sent this Bryan kid a message. I didn't expect a reply, but it was worth a shot. I set down my phone and undressed to take a quick shower. It was only 6:30, but it had been a long day.
There was a message waiting for me. "God yes, man," Bryan wrote. "I could be there in about an hour and a half," he wrote. Then almost nervously, there was a follow up. "God, I must seem overly eager. But fuck you're so hot. Let me know what works for you."
"How bout 8:30?" I typed back and gave my hotel name and room number. I wanted to get some food in me.
"Awesome. Yeah. See you soon," came the almost immediate reply.
I had only business casual clothes packed, so I got dressed to grab a bite at a restaurant near my hotel. I got back to my room with about ten minutes to spare. I brushed my teeth and checked my appearance in the mirror. I wasn't crazy about getting older, I had to admit, but I could see the "DILF" look that Travis and Mike were always raving about. Well-preserved was the expression, I suppose.
I was actually a little nervous when I heard the knock. I had no business fooling around with a guy like this. Not making a porn vid but actually having a cheating hook up. The messed up thing is that most guys would consider the videos a worse infraction, but this felt naughtier in a way.
Bryan looked great. Better than great. He was cuter than his pictures, and I think his nerves made him more attractive to me. He forced a smile but was shaking.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey," I smiled. "Come in, bud."
He was shorter than me, and his size made his collegiate muscle look more compact on his build. Maybe not collegiate wrestler exactly, but definitely that wrestler body type. A little thick, even. MusclePup Mike would have called him a twunk.
"I didn't know what you'd look like," Bryan said softly. His gray eyes were taking me in.
I remembered now he'd never seen me outside of my videos, all masked up. "You came over anyway," I observed.
"Oh yeah," he enthused. "You're my favorite porn star, hands down." He blushed but didn't stop gushing. "You probably know this... I guess most guys don't pay to watch your videos, but I subscribed to your site so I could email you."
"For real?" I laughed.
"Yeah," Bryan replied, that nervous smile growing bigger. "You're not on Twitter or Insta," he explained. His eyes swept up and down my frame. "God, you're even hotter in person. I knew you'd be hot, but... wow."
I was eating up his flattery. "You're not so bad yourself, buddy... bring it in..." I held up my arms to gesture him to come in for a kiss. He did. He was nervous and that turned me on for some reason. But once we started making out, Bryan got real into it, meeting my tongue with his, before practically sucking me into his mouth.
His hands were feeling it up, tentatively at first, then all over. He chuckled as he pulled back so he could feel me up better. I stood there and let his hands roam over my button-down shirt and the gym-toned muscle underneath. At that moment I was VERY glad for the personal trainer Travis set me up with.
"I hope you don't mind my saying," Bryan said, "But it's so wild to be with a porn star."
"Don't mind at all, buddy," I hissed. I was now experiencing the other thrill of doing porn. I knew I was into the exhibitionism of it all, but now I was feeling the hero worshop, the adoration of a young guy like this. I was rock hard.
He gulped as I reached down to undo my khakis, unzipping them and reaching in to haul out my dong. "I guess you really like my cock, then, huh?" I growled.
This wasn't me. At least it wasn't Brad Connors. Married father of three. Road warrior corporate guy. But being MaskedDaddy gave me the sexual confidence and freedom to be someone else.
"Fuck yeah," Bryan gasped as he saw my prick. "That cock's so fucking big..." His eyes were wide, taking in my size before he looked up at me. "OK, if I touch it?"
"I'd be disappointed if you didn't, buddy," I said. "That's why you came over isn't it?"
He nodded, like a chastised kid. Then tentatively he stepped in again and reached forward, like he was afraid of being branded by a hot poker. But once his fingers made contact, the hesitation was gone. The college dude circled his fingers and round me, griping my hardon and gently stroking a couple inches of it to get a feel of the girth and heft. "You don't know how much I've jerked off to your videos," he said. "I wasn't gonna admit to that you, but fuck...." His voice was heavy in his ragged breathing but still had that frat-bro collegiate kind of tone.
"I think we talked about you sucking that dick," I grunted. In our texts, Bryan had offered a blow job, and his presence now was making me really want this. In a surprising way, his realness was making me click with the college kid more than I did with a megahot porn star. Maybe it was the opposite of what Bryan was feeling, where he was living out his porn dream.
"Yeah," he nodded. But he gave me a sheepish shrug. "I, um, don't have a lot of experience."
I patted his cheek. "Give it your best, bud. Please. Daddy's really fucking horny." Yep, this was porn me talking, but it was the magic words for Bryan, who couldn't get down on his knees fast enough.
The young stud actually whimpered as he pulled my dick to his face and began licking it. It was slobbery and impetuous, and his attempt to take me into mouth was more urgent than skilled.
"Easy, buddy..." I urged as he choked a little on my size. "Daddy's got a big cock... take your time."
He nodded and moaned around my prick, flashing those gray eyes up, a little teary. Fuck.
I wouldn't say he got the hang of, but he got a lot more comfortable. Slowly, he sucked me, a few inches at a time, working up the focus to get an extra one back into his throat. The young dude was so excited to blow me, and I was loving this. Slowly I stroked his hair and encouraged him. "That's it, sport... you don't need the training wheels do ya? You go right for the big ones. OH FUCK, that feels nice."
"Yeah?" Bryan asked as he spit out my cock and swallowed the excess spit. I could tell he wanted to make sure he was sucking me right, but more than that he struck me as a young man who craved positive feedback in sex.
"You're doing great, buddy," I said.
There was something about this connection which was night and day different than "Jeff Reed." Bryan was a real guy, a college stud eager for me and not just playing out sex for the camera. And yet...
"You interested in filming this, Bryan? It's SO hot to watch you, buddy."
I could see two reactions in his face at once. A fearful shock at the idea. And an excitement to even consider it. "Oh man," he responded, not giving me a hint which one was the bigger emotion.
I slowly stroked my rod in front of his face, working in his spit over my dong and letting it get steel hard for his gaze. I had toyed with using viagra for my shoots, but even with my size I didn't have an issue getting real hard erections like this. I just loved sex too much.
"If it helps, I packed a spare mask," I offered.
Maybe another dude would have wondered why I had a mask with me, much less more than one mask. But Bryan had been used to seeing me in one, so maybe it just seemed normal to him.
"This is crazy," he said, his fearful look breaking into a smile.
"Is that a yes or a no?" I asked, gently tapping his cheek with my dong.
"Yes," he muttered excitedly before taking ne into his mouth once more.
I let him work me for a few seconds then pulled back. I went to my carryon back and retrieved the masks. I wouldn't need one, I suppose, but I tossed both over Bryan's way while I got my portable tripod, a compact digital camera, and a spare cameraphone, an old Iphone I used for extra handheld footage.
I was worried I was killing the mood setting everything up and fiddling with the lights. But I loved shooting porn, and if anything my dick was harder in anticipation with shooting a different kind of scene. Me with an amateur costar. Even if Bryan wasn't an experienced I just knew this would be a hot video. And if not, I'd enjoy jerking off to it.
Fortunately, Bryan seemed excited too. I could see the excitement in his eyes, even behind the mask. He'd taken his shirt off, maybe to be less identifiable but was on his knees still, hands braced on his thighs. "I can't believe I'm going to be in one of your vids," he said. Yeah, the dude was into this.
I sauntered back, my dick leading the way. "If you're not comfortable with the results, we don't have to post anything," I said, remembering how important that veto power was for my comfort level for my first vid with my son. "Otherwise, I'll take this as your consent."
"Got it," he nodded.
The second his lips touched my prick again, I let out a gasp. He looked up at me, excited, and I took in his green eyes looking up through the mask holes. I pointed the phone camera at him to capture that. I wasn't gonna shoot that angle the whole time, since I preferred to enjoy getting head instead of playing cameraman the whole time. But the snapshots of him looking up would add to the effect.
Bryan's technique wasn't better this time, but his enthusiasm had tripled, at least. I set down the phone and eased my stance back, my posture upright. I was still in my business casual attire as this horny college kid blew me. I urged him to go slower at first with a quick deep grunt.
I heard the guy moan around my meat as something relaxed in his throat and he was able to more steadily take more of my dong into his throat. Working me up and down, I reached behind his head and massaged his scalp through the mask, gently urging him deeper.
"Yes," I choked in response. "Suck me." I'd gotten pretty good at deguising my voice. Using my porn voice. "Suck Daddy."
That did it. Bryan pulled off for a quick breath, then descended all the way down. I'm a big guy, and even some of the OnlyFans studs had a hard time swallowing my sword. But they weren't feeling the crazy sexual thrill this kid was.
He held a second then it was too much, and he pulled off with a sputtering cough. I could see his eyes watering even through the mask holes.
"Sorry," he breathed, as he tried to regain composure.
"It's OK... take your time," I said in my normal voice. Travis would have to edit that out. All for the best. I gave Bryan a second to catch his breath and then I leaned down and met him for a sensual kiss.
"You're doing real good," I said. Then leaning up, I offered my hard dong again. It had gone down a little, but was still pretty heavy. "Ready for more?" I asked.
He nodded. "Yeah," he said, his gray eyes looking back up at me.
His mouth on me got me rock hard once more. I pulled out some to let the camera catch my full hardon, then pushed back in between his wet lips. Bryan was novice, but that was OK. I was turned on from a change of pace from the OnlyFans dudes. This was a real guy, young and eager. I let him suck and get into sucking.
"Yeah," I grunted, I ran my fingers through his hair again and took the chance to push him down on my meat some more.
Byran was up for the challenge. He grunted around my prick but his throat relaxed and swallowed more of my thickness.
I started cumming. I wanted to ride out the orgasm in his college kid's throat but instead I pulled out and shot a couple of jets onto his mask and his lips before pushing back in just a few inches to let him suckle the remaining dribbles of semen.
I caught my breath a half second then picked up the cameraphone again. I hadn't taken too much handheld footage, so now I got a good view of Bryan slurping on my sated meat, licking up and down and outright worshipping my cock. Thankfully I wasn't too sensitive after nutting, and even if I lost a little of my rigidity, my dick kept a heavy firm meatiness that looked good.
I finally pulled back and turned both cameras off. "You were amazing, buddy," I said with a smile.
Already Bryan was pulling his mask off. I was glad. The guy was real fucking cute. "Dream come true for me," he said.
I could tell he was still horned up and at full sexual arousal from servicing me. "Get on the bed, kiddo," I urged. "Lie back."
He didn't seem to know what was going on but he complied. His body was shaking some as I undid his jeans and yanked them down.
"What are we gonna do?" he asked with some apprehension. Still he raised each leg to let me pull off his jeans. And his boxers showed a thick boner beneath the cotton.
"Your turn to get off," I said, not really answering his question.
Still, Bryan nodded and hooked his thumbs in the elastic of his boxers to slide them down. I let him take them off as I stepped into the bathroom to get lube out of my toiletties bag.
Bryan was now lying back on the bed, fully naked, his creamy white muscle looking even better than I anticipated now that he was stripped nude.
"You an athlete?" I asked as I flipped open the cap on the lube.
Bryan's eyes were nervously only the lube. I think I knew what he was worried about, and a part of me enjoyed playing with his nervousness. I'll give him credit, he put on a brave face as his eyes met mine to answer me. "Yeah. Wrestling.""
My guess had been spot on. "It shows," I said. "You have an amazing body."
"Thanks," he said, watching me get on the bed, me making a show of drizzling some lube on his hardon. His dick twitched, untouched, he was so turned on. "You have more the football build."
"Baseball was my sport," I answered. "And golf. But my trainer has helped me bulk up."
"You're my fantasy," he said softly. "The whole package. None of the guys know I'm into this, though." I could read in his face that he wasn't sure if he should be getting emotionally open like this.
I patted his thigh and set down the lube on the night stand with my other hand. I was fully dress, with my cock sticking out of the fly of my khakis still. I wasn't sure I wanted to get off again, but I knew I could. Bryan was hot as fuck, and I was grooving on his clear attraction to me.
"A shame," I winked, trying to make the conversation sexy again. "Maybe you could have some fun. With you coach, too."
That got a laugh from him. Bryan had a sexy smile. "I've definitely thought of Coach. A lot."
I rubbed his legs some more more, outright caressing them now. His quads were solid as fuck, hard brawn that contrasted with the soft collegiate fur. I copped a feel of his ball sac, lightly haired and ran my fingers up the lubey length of his shaft.
"Lift your legs, bud," I urged, my tone friendly even as my words were commanding.
He got that deer in the headlights look. "I've never done this," Bryan said softly.
I had a good idea what he meant. "You a virgin?" I asked. My eyes doing their best friendly look I could manage as I played with his hard dick and his balls. Not stroking him, more exploring his rigid younger dick. Getting him excited to play more.
"For fucking, yeah..." he replied. "Sorry."
I don't think I realized till then how much I wanted to tap this hot wrestler's ass. Maybe his innocence was fueling some of my desire, too. "Not gonna do anything you're not ready for buddy," I said. "Come on, just lift your legs for Daddy."
Maybe that was the magic word, because Bryan leaned back and raised his legs up.
"You can pull em back," I instructed, taking a good look before leaning forward and crouching down.
"Holy FUCK!" the kid gasped at the first swipe of my tongue. His hair down there was light, and I enjoyed the contrast with hairier guys or even the OnlyFans dudes who shaved smooth. It was a delight to lick up and down the trench and then focus more on his tight pucker.
"Jesus," Bryan gasped. He wasn't naturally verbal, but I could tell his mind was being blown. Surprised, maybe a little ticklish but he definitely loved getting rimmed.
I pulled back. That ring was drum tight all right. It made me realize I'd never eaten out a cherry hole before. My son's certainly wasn't virgin. "Go ahead and stroke off," I urged. I relished the ability to speak in my normal voice now that the cameras were off, even as some of my Masked Daddy persona came out anyway. "I want you to come kiddo."
I watched as he excitedly gripped his boner and start to stroke it. Then I dove back in. Not just rimming but fully eating him out, munching the tightness of his asshole.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck," the kid gasped. I knew his orgasm was starting. I held onto the back of his meaty thighs and even pushed back a little to angle him perfectly to got to town with my tongue and my sucking mouth.
"NMNGGH!" came the grunt of his cum. Bryan's whole body was tensing up and I knew he was giving up his load in a big way.
Indeed as I pulled back I saw that beautiful creamy white wrestler muscle sprayed with splotches of his sperm. I began licking it up off his abs and chest, saving it in my mouth before I finally met him in a kiss to share it.
The snowballing caught him by surprise but he was way into it, accepting his own cum then pushing it back into my mouth, our tongues working it back and forth and frothing it up with our own saliva.
He had a big, content smile on his face when finally parted, swallowing what little seed was left on our tongues. "I thought..." he started then stopped himself.
"I know, buddy," I said. I patted his chest gently. "I won't lie... I came THIS close to pushing your boundaries."
He nodded, emotionally raw. I could tell he half wanted me to. But only half. "I know. I don't know how, but I could tell."
His hand reached up and ran along my arm through my button down shirt. "I'll probably be kicking myself for not going all the way. But I wasn't ready," he said.
"It was all great, buddy," I assured him.
"I should go," he said. "I got a long drive back to Boulder."
I pulled back and gave him one last pat as I eyed up his nakedness one more time. Bryan was the real deal. Not a "jock" for pay. I felt a strange emotional connection even with the sexual chemistry. I'd have to process why I was feeling that.
For now, I let him up and I went to piss while he got dressed again. When I stepped back from the bathroom, he was mostly dressed again, and had a dreamy, moody expression.
"Thanks for that... fuck I don't even know your name."
"Will 'Daddy' do?" I asked with a wink.
"Guess it will have to," he said with resignation. "You've made my dream come true."
I stepped up for a final kiss, then I showed him to the hotel room door.
***
I was glad Bryan didn't sleep over. I needed a good rest and I had a busy schedule with my client visit the next day.
It felt like naughty fun messaging Bryan when I got a chance, though. It started off with "had a great time" kind of texts, but Bryan admitted how he wished he'd gone all the way.
"Maybe if you're in town again, I'll have the courage," he admitted.
"I'm in town another night if you manage to get that courage, kiddo."
There was silence on his end. Like an hour and a half before I got another text, and even then it was a half hour before I had a break after my afternoon presentation.
"Sorry," Bryan wrote. "Was in class and my prof goes apeshit if we're on our phones LOL."
I texted. "I worried I'd spooked you."
This time the reply was quicker. "Dude, you don't know how horny I've been all day. You're definitely not spooking me."
I bit my lip and looked around. I probably looked like I was doing business texts on my phone. But fuck I was getting horny too. Somehing about this Bryan kid got under my skin. "Is that a yes?" I wrote. "You gonna give me your cherry?"
I was pushing boundaries now for sure, but Bryan seemed up for it now, more than the previous night. "I wanna. Yeah."
"Daddy wants to get in your hole SO bad, buddy." Then, "I'll go easy on you."
"God yes," came his reply. "I'm hard as fuck now."
God this was gonna happen. One more boundary to push. "Will you let me fuck you on camera?"
There was a pause now. Then, "Masked?"
"As you like," I wrote, almost hoping Bryan wouldn't wear one, even if I knew he would. To coax him, I added, "I'll tell you my first name if you let me film us."
"Deal. LOL."
I looked up. Folks were filing back into the conference room. I hoped my chubbed cock wouldn't show. "I gotta go. But maybe plan for 8:30? I have a work dinner before."
"God yes. I can't believe we're going to do this."
"We're going to do it, Kiddo." I assured him. "I want you so bad."
I got a blushing emoji in return and had to smile. "All right," he wrote. "Talk later."
I went into my meeting and was able to get my mind off Bryan's creamy smooth wrestler build and his cherry hole. Somehow.
I checked my messages after we wrapped up, before heading off to a business dinner. It was close to my hotel thankfully and these things never ran late. I hoped to see a message from Bryan, but there was nothing.
I did google some instructions for preparing to bottom. With the OnlyFans guys and my own son, that routine was down pat, but a newbie like Bryan could use some guidance, and I wanted the ease and comfort of topping a clean hole. I forwarded the site to Bryan.
I held off to one glass of wine during dinner. I wanted a clear head for later. By 7:40 I'd paid the check on my corporate card and bid good night to my client contacts. I had to laugh at myself by how excited I was to get back to my hotel. I did have time to stop at an office supply store and pick up a spare small camera. I figured this scene would be worth the extra vantage point.
Bryan texted when he was on his way. I stripped down from my business clothes and hung them up in the closet. I was rock hard already, and dripping in anticipation. I hadn't felt this excited since my last time with my son. I took a quick shower and put on the plush hotel robe, tying it to cover up my midsection.
I spent the rest of the time setting up the cameras. The lighting wasn't perfect but it was enough.
The knock made me realize I was a little nervous myself. I'd gotten comfortable doing porn, maybe a little too comfortable, but taking Bryan's cherry felt like a certain responsibility. I wanted it to be an incredible experience for him, and I was realizing I was totally green when it came to easing a guy out of his virginity.
Still, the sight of him made my heart beat. He was just so fucking cute and hunky. Particularly was we realized each other was nervous.
"Hey, Daddy," he said stepping in.
"Brad," I said. "You can call me Brad. Or Daddy," I smirked.
Our kiss was soft, surprisingly soft given the act we were about to do.
"You good for his, buddy?" I asked, running my hands along his outer arms.
He nodded. "I'm nervous as hell, but I'll be kicking myself if I don't do it."
"You feel like stripping down?" I asked. "There's a mask for you on the table."
I pulled mine on and then went around made sure all the cameras were on. I was pleased to see Bryan's naked body, that thick muscle lean and compact with just a dusting of hair. God, even with that build he looked every bit the 20 year old he was. Like I say, the real deal.
And I was doubly pleased to see him throwing hard. That thick five spike standing up from his lightly furred crotch, nerves notwithstanding. I watched him pull on his mask. It was a shame the viewers wouldn't see how cute he was but his body rounded out that college jock look for sure.
I pointed the camera at him. "So... we're about to have sex for a video that will be released through OnlyFans. Do you agree for me to share what I film?"
I half expected some questions, but he just nodded. "Yes."
"Good boy," I said with a laugh. That made Bryan chuckle, too, which made me glad. "Why don't you lie on the bed, face down?"
I could sense his nervousness. Maybe he anticipated face to face for his first time. "Don't worry buddy, I'll ease you into this."
He nodded silently and then complied, walking over to the hotel bed, while I filmed him with his natural jock gait. It was hot as fuck, seeing him strut and that ass of his work. Then his full body stretching out face down.
The other cameras would get a good angle - one angled on each side nightstand, the other from behind where I stood, just a little off to the side. I held the camera phone as I stepped closer, letting the camera rove over his strong back and amazing ass, up and down his legs. Maybe more jock-worship footage than we'd use, but Travis could work his magic.
Finally, I stepped back and propped the camera phone off to the side. maybe it would work for another angle. Bryan turned back to look at me, and I got off on how his back muscle flexed with his motion. Stepping up, I ran my hands along his calves, working up the length as I climbed on the bed.
I knew I'd be in good view of the cameras now as I kissed from one side of his hamstrings to the other knotted leg. I took my time working my way up.
Bryan was ready for the rim job now. Hiking his ass up, he parted his legs enough to let me in. My hands gripped his buns and did the rest.
The college kid's sigh was deep and sexual as I began licking. I wanted to put on a show. I loved rimming a guy and sometimes felt there was never enough of it in porn videos. It was always a quick lick before the top was lining up. I went full in now, eating out Bryan for a solid five to ten minutes, alternating speed and tonguework. Sometimes Bryan relaxed and let me do my magic, sometimes he bucked up against my face to maximize the contact.
I pulled back and with a hungry growl gave him a light pat. "Turn over," I urged in my deeper voice. Spittle wetted down the chin of my mask. I really wished he and I could do it without these, but the masks allowed us to fuck on camera, both of us.
I was amazed to see Bryan's prick hard and leaking clear sap everywhere. He was majorly turned on. I pulled up enough to let the cameras get a good view of his ripped, modestly jacked body.
"How many guys have fucked you?" I asked tersely. I sure hoped the "MaskedDaddy" voice was enough fo a disguise.
Bryan didn't change his voice, but his soft response was sexy as hell. "No one yet," he said.
I leaned in and kissed him. Just enough sexual urge, and enough romantic finesse. Bryan responded in turn, sucking my tongue into his mouth and moaning against me. He was nervous, sure, but also getting the case of the major horns.
I loved this, putting on a show and yet connecting one-to-one with this fine young man. I pulled up and muttered, "nice," patting his chest. I rolled off to the side and undid my robe. My hardon bounded out and both Bryan and the camera could see my exposed body with its blond fur. I pulled him to me and we started making out again.
Silently I guided him down and the kid knew what to do. Slowly he began kissing and worshipping my big prick, wetting it down with his tongue before taking me into his mouth. Practice hadn't made perfect, but he was getting much more accustomed to my size and better at blowing me.
I was determined not to get overheated. I just lay back and enjoyed this, the sensation of Bryan's soft, slow blowjob and the view of his nakedness kneeling in front of me in servicing position.
Soon, though, it was feeling too good. I nudged him off. He came up to meet me for a kiss, taking the initiative now, until I regained the upperhand in rolling him back on his back, with me on top. I could feel his hardon against mine and the warmth from his body.
Placing my mouth at his ear, I whispered, "You like being a porn star too, dont ya kiddo?"
"Yeah," he grunted back.
I knew I needed to be a little verbal with him. If the camera picked up my words, Travis could edit them out. "You're just about the hottest guy I've ever fucked, Bry."
His body actually shivered at that. The time seemed ripe. I lifted off and leaned over to pump out some lube.
He let out a hiss of air the second my greased fingers touched his pucker but he didn't flinch. Instead he spread his legs and looked into my eyes. This was gonna be good.
I pushed a digit in. Bryan was real fucking tight. But I worked him slowly. Back and forth, in and out.
"Another," I said curtly.
"God," he hissed as I penetrated him with two fingers. It wasn't bad-uncomfortable for him, but it was certainly unfamiliar to him. We stood still eyes locked, him lying back, me between his legs. Until I started finger fucking him again. I applied more lube and fingered him some more.
Finally I pulled back and removed my robe entirely, slipping it off my body and tossing it aside. Bryan's hands were on me, excited to feel up my DILF body. I let him. Between his attention and the cameras I was getting real excited. I was the one dripping now. I caught a thick thread of precum in my fingers and brought it down to his virgin hole. I fingered him up with that too.
The third finger was slow going, but I got him to relax.
"No rubber?" I have asked and half said.
"No sir," came his excited reply.
I was gonna get blue balls soon if I didn't fuck. I scooted up and pressed my prick head in place. I pressed super slow against his ring, working against the spit-slick tightness and smearing my precum against him.
I could feel Bryan's body shake beneath me, and he looked up, a real deer-in-the-headlights look in his eyes beneath the mask. I worried if I waited longer his nerves would get the best of him. I pushed in.
"UNNH!" he whimpered loudly. I felt bad the entry hurt and bad that he was doing his bravest to pretend it didn't.
"Easy, bud..." I hissed, reaching down to run my hands along his hot body. This fine young man was giving me a major gift. My prick jerked an inch or two inside him, feeling the tightness of his ass clamping down on him, as I held still, then gave the shallowest of thrusts, back and forth more than in and out.
I looked at him, trying to communicate silently. Then I leaned in, pushing his legs back with my body. "You're doing good," I said.
We kissed. My cock slipped out of its toe hold but I didn't care. He needed this, and I wanted it. This was about the only time I lost track of the cameras. When I wasn't putting on a show. I connected with this college kid in a deep, soulful kiss. And kissed him som more.
I pulled back. This time I didn't rush, but I didn't delay. I pushed back into him. Bryan somehow trusted me, because his ring gave way more easily. He was virgin tight a few inches inside, but I gently thrust back and forth, working that knot inside him. I pulled out and added more lube. Now showing off for Bryan and the cameras both. Then I placed his ankles on my shoulders.
"OOH FUCK!" Came his cry when I broke through. But he wasn't in pain, just overwhelmed by feelings he didn't have word for. I plowed all the way in and held it. I could see his muscular chest rise and fall, taking deep breaths.
"Got your cherry, kiddo," I hissed.
"Thank you," he actually replied, his voice heavy in emotion. That got me going. My dick felt like stone inside his warm, tight guts.
"Feel good buddy?" My hands massaged his calf muscle as I looked down on him and restrained myself from just plowing his hot ass.
Bryan nodded.
I pulled and out thrust in. Then again. I was fucking for real now. Bryan's first fuck. Maybe more than he bargained for when he came over the previous night. But I knew this was his deep fantasy and why he reached out to me.
I wasn't hard or rough, but I fucked with a steady determination. I wanted to give this kid the best first time experience possible now. I puffed my chest and used more of a swivel action of my hips, in and out, in and out, as my eyes stared down at him. I'd probably read his facial reactions better without the mask, but his eyes and mouth were enough. I was getting to him, hitting that spot.
I paused just a second and reached to pump out more lube. This went onto his prick. He gasped as I slicked him up then got the picture once I pulled my hand away.
I grabbed a pillow and slid it underneath his hips. It made for the perfect angle, and I took quick advantage, resuming my steady plow of Bryan's no-longer virgin hole.
Turns out his masturbation was just what Bryan needed, flipping the switch to full pleasure now.
"Yeah?" I asked. Fucking heavier now.
"Yesss," the college hunk hissed back. He was jerking faster now, not frantically but eagerly and in synch with the fuck.
I saw his pisslit dilate and a clear spurt fly out. Not his ejaculation yet, but the prelude.
"Fuck yes," I grunted, throwing my hips into harder pounding. I was getting close to the finish line, and I wanted to speed up to catch up with this stud.
My harder thrusts felt amazing giving how much his ass was clenching and releasing on my dick spasmodically. But it really made Bryan's prostate sing. His pale skin grew pink and flush and his wrestler muscle tensed up.
"Shit!" he yelled and timed with each shove his nuts gave it up, and his prick spurted heavy ropes of semen over his perfect body.
I went at it even harder, leaning in some, powering my hips in rapid jabs. I didn't say anything but my grunt was unmistakeable as I shoved in and unloaded. My cum threw off my rhythm, but I held deep a second, then my hips jerked involuntarily for another hard shove to discharge my seed deep inside Bryan.
The kid winced at that one, which made me feel bad. I got myself under control and held myself steady, gently massaging his leg and then easing back. He'd been a trooper but now needed a break. I leaned back and showed off my slickened dong, though most viewers eyes would probably be on the cum-covered collegiate muscle of my bottom.
Leaning over I picked up one of the cameras. Time for the money shot.
Even if Bryan wasn't an experienced bottom, he'd watched enough porn to know what I was after. Rather than drop his legs down, he pulled them back, spreading them enough to show me and the camera his fucked and seeded hole. No longer drum tight, it has a slight gape and was thick with my cum. I'd shot a lot.
I got a good shot of it, then angled the camera up to capture his whole ripped and cum-wet body. Nothing would ever top watching my own son in porn, but Bryan was a close second.
I finally set down the phone and pulled off my mask. That was the cue Bryan was waiting for and he eagerly peeled his off.
"You OK, buddy?" I asked. My normal voice returning.
He nodded. "God yeah. I'm so glad we did that."
I gave a sly nod to the camera. "Your first time's preserved as a memento," I said. A little teasing in my voice, but checking in where his head was.
He smiled and god he was so fucking cute with that pearly white smile. "I didn't think I was gonna enjoy it at first," he admitted. "But damn..."
I ran my fingers through the cum that had turned liquidy on his chest. "You shot like gangbusters," I said.
"My cums are pretty big normally," he said. "But your dick did something inside me that made me go wild. I've never felt anything like that."
"I'm glad," I said. I leaned forward for another kiss, this one tantalizingly soft and slow.
Afterward, I let Bryan get up and shower off while I checked my phone. Then I figured I'd join him. The look on his face told me my presence was quite welcome.
"Hey," he grinned, shyly. God, he was star struck and that made me feel like a real stud.
"Hey," I said. Our wet bodies connected and we took the time to soap each other down.
"You married to a man or a woman?" he asked as he nodded to my gold band.
"A woman," I said. "I'm not the best husband."
He gave a nod of acknowledgment. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm glad you share yourself."
"I have news for you kiddo," I said, turning off the water and running my hands over his wet muscled body. "You've shared yourself now, too."
"Still can't believe it," he said. "When will you post it?"
"In a couple of weeks," I said. I wasn't going to bring up Travis or my process for putting the vid together.
His hands reached up to feel my body too, my chest but also my shoulders and arms.
"I'm hard again," Bryan said. "I can't believe it."
"You're 20," I joked. "It happens."
"Yeah," he laughed.
I patted his arm. "Feel like sleeping over?" I asked. "I have a morning flight to catch but you're welcome to stay."
He nodded, like an eager puppy. We dried off and made our way back into the room. I downed a bottled water to rehydrate and tossed him one. "Remind me to tip housekeeping extra," I said as I pulled down the sheets. "We made a fucking mess."
He slipped into the bed next to me. His body was cooler now, and felt great against my warmer bod. We made out. His dick was a spike and I got hard once more, but I wasn't eager for another fuck. And Bryan seemed to go with the flow.
"So..." I finally said. "No longer a virgin..."
"No sir."
"Any regrets?" I asked, leaning back in the bed against the headboard, pulling my hands behind me. Bryan nestled in, resting his head against my upper chest and running his hands along my fur.
"None. It was hot as fuck," he said. "But even if it hadn't been, I just feel relieved, you know?"
"Not exactly," I smiled knowingly.
"Ha," he said, picking up on my meaning. "I'm surprised your so good at breaking a guy in if you're cherry too."
"I'd like to say I had some secret," I admitted, "But I just did what felt right."
Maybe it was the sex. I mean it was getting late, but not that late. Bryan was dozing some as he rested up against me. I ran my fingers through his hair.
"Ready for bed, kiddo?" I asked.
"Yeah, Brad," he said and rolled off to the side.
***
My son did his magic crafting two separate scenes from the footage with Bryan, as well as a very hot teaser. "Taking College Jock's Cherry" was the title of the second. The on-screen chemistry was real, and it was clear that we weren't faking it. I really did take the young dude's virginity on screen.
"God, Dad, this is fucking incredible," Travis said to me on the phone before he posted the scene. "I've shot three times to it."
I smiled. I was in a semi-public place and had to be a little discrete. "I'm very glad to hear that," I smirked. "A little payback to the one you did the other week."
"Bud and Spike?" he asked.
That one was one was OK, but not my favorite. "No, the other one," I said, cagily.
That got a laugh from Trav. "Oh, MiamiMuscles... dude's a crazy power bottom, right?"
"Yeah," I said, my throat getting hoarse with lust I was trying to hide. "I like watching you in action like that."
Travis picked up on my need to be discreet, though he had no constraints on his end. "You prefer watching me fuck, Dad?"
God, my son knew how to drive me crazy. "I do," I admitted.
I detected a hesitation on his end, which wasn't Travis's normal response to anything. He paused. "Dad... you ever think about, you know, me fucking you?"
Just hearing those words were going make me go from chubbed to boned. "It's a little scary to think about," I replied. "But yeah... I do."
"Oh fuck," Travis hissed. Only then did I realize he'd been dreaming of that very act. Topping me. Taking my anal cherry, like I'd done with that Denver kid. It surprised me actually, given our bedroom chemistry with my son bottoming for me, eager for his dad's cock. "We'll talk about it next time, OK?" he said. Not pressuring me but letting me know this was on his mind.
"Yeah," I said. "I'll probably chicken out, son. But I wanna explore the idea." I was nervous just vocalizing this.
"Sure, Dad," Trav said. "God you know I love everything we'd done together. If I were there right now, I'd suck your cock, you know that." My son was getting into deep lust mode now.
"Fuck, Trav, I should probably go," I said. I knew if I kept talking like this, I'd get in trouble. "Later, son?"
"Yeah, Dad," he replied, his voice rich with lust. I knew he was probably going to jack off when I hung up. I was going to find the time myself at the first chance. Pull up one of Travis's videos where he topped and stroke off imagining him pounding me, too.
****
My Denver videos were popular. I wasn't surprised that my fans responded to the realness of them, but I was surprised by the messages I got. They changed my porn career and it's probably not an overstatement to say they changed my life.
The first one came two weeks after the video with Bryan dropped.
"Dear MaskedDaddy, I loved your latest video. God, it's like my deepest fantasy. I'm 23 and live in DC. I don't have that college jock's bod, but I'm working on it. I've been too scared to let a guy fuck me, but if you want to be my first, I'd love to star in one of your vids. I wouldn't even need a mask."
It was a wild email, and I figured the kid's horniness doing the thinking for him. I pawed my crotch and laughed at how forward the offer was. I started to send a polite thanks but no thanks reply.
But then I thought about it, and I figured what the hell. I asked for the young dude's pictures. He was cute as fuck. Not quite as twunky as Bryan but still good looking, kind of that boy-next-door type.
Travis handled the OnlyFans money my site brought in. I didn't do porn for the money, and in any case I didn't want my finances impacted lest Kate find out.
I sent two more texts that night. One to DC guy. "If you're serious, lets plan for something three weeks from now." I knew I had some work travel on the East Coast I could piggy back on.
My other I sent to Trav. "I need your help arranging a DC visit. Gonna pop another dude's cherry."
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scekrex · 2 days
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Nsfw, Adam breeding tran!reader and dirty talking but in a gender affirming manner like 'I'm going to make you a father', 'I hope you're ready to be a daddy cause I'm going to put a baby in you'
Breeding kink my beloved. I feel like Adam's totally into the thought of fucking a child into someone (reader in our case) but actually wanting kids? Fuck no. He had to take care of his kids in the past, ain't no fucking way he wants more
Spin round quick rock yo body
pairing: Adam x trans!male!reader
warnings: language, vaginal sex, no use of female privates though
note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers
Adam’s nails dug into your skin as he pushed your hips flush against his own, pounding into you like it was the only thing keeping you alive, like he’d die the moment he’d stop crashing your hips together. You were breathing heavy and so was he as he kept fucking his dick into you, drawing the most glorious sounding moans from your lips that the first man had ever heard - how could a single person sound so divine, so perfectly pure and yet so nasty at the same time? A question Adam would never get an answer to, not that he minded.
“Fuck,” the brunette on top of you huffed as he tugged on your hips to get them closer, his body was acting on instincts and the words left his lips before he could give them a second thought, “Gonna make you a fucking dad, babes.” And your body seemed to like the sound of that, because as soon as those words had fallen from the most perfect lips in all of heaven, a loud moan of the first man’s name was your answer to his plan. You met his thrusts halfway through, high on the thought of Adam breeding you - the fact that you were able to get pregnant had never felt as arousing as it did in that exact moment, the opposite had been the case. It had always given you dysmorphia, so the fact that your mind actually liked the new kind of dirty talk Adam tried was surprising to both of you.
“Imma fill you up with my fucking cum ‘til you can’t take more ‘nd make sure to fuck a goddamn baby in you,” the brunette continued, very visibly enjoying the idea. And while in the back of his mind he knew that winners weren’t able to get pregnant and actually give birth to children, the sheer thought was able to keep him going. It’s not like he had an unfulfilled child wish or whatever - he had children after all, not that they all turned out the way Adam had wanted them to, but he had children of his own and one thing he knew for sure: he didn’t want nor need any more children to take care of, it was worse enough that Sera asked him regularly to babysit Emily - as if the little seraphim wasn’t able to take care of herself. So this was all just a fantasy and it would stay that way - but it was a welcome fantasy, one that you seemed to enjoy just as much as Adam himself was enjoying it, if the noises you were making was anything to go by - for Adam it was and so he kept up his probably new favorite form of dirty talk. “And you’ll take it like the good fucking bitchboy you are for me, aren’t you?”
Your head was pressed firmly against the sheets underneath you, not by Adam though, your body did that to itself. Hips arched you cried out for more, answering his question with desperate cries and by begging him to fill you the fuck up. You weren’t sure how much longer you could take it, you felt your orgasm creep closer, felt the built up in every little muscle of your body yet you found yourself unable to tell Adam so and when you came around his dick only moments later, lubing the first man’s erection with your cum, Adam let a deep moan slip from his lips, slapping your hips lightly, “Fucking needy whore, what will our fucking kid say when he fucking finds out that his dad’s a horny slut for the first fucking man?” The words weren’t with you, the ability to speak had been taken from you by your orgasm and all you were able to do was to look up into shining golden eyes that contained a gigantic amount of lust, you were sure you could drown in those magnificent eyes of his - Adam’s eyes had always been so stupidly beautiful to you, why you didn’t know, probably because you loved him very dearly though.
It didn’t take Adam very long to stay true to his words, with a harsh thrust he buried himself deep inside of you, lighter thrusts followed quíckly as he kept fucking his seeds deeper into you, “I’ll fucking make sure that shit stays inside of you until you give motherfucking birth to my brat.” And how you loved the thought of that, of having Adam’s cum inside of you for as long as he demanded. “Fuck yes,” were the only words you were able to voice before your brain started to fog up with that beautiful post-nut-haze. The brunette on top of you kept fucking his seeds inton you and you doubted he would stop any time soon, that man was on a mission now, no matter if God had made it impossible, Adam’s lust and his nature to reproduce were both kicking in like crazy and that man would do a fucking lot right now to fuck an actual child into you, so he keot rocking his hips against yours. The pace he had set was less brutal and harsh than before. Given Adam’s usual pace this was actually able to be considered soft - well, it surely was soft enough to let you fall asleep. The first man of course noticed that and was quick to change positions without leaving your insides empty for even as much as a second. He pulled you flush against his chest, dropped himself backwards until his back hit the soft yet sweaty sheets and was quick to wrap his wings around you to keep you warm, a blanket simply wouldn’t do. His hips however, continued moving.
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jistagrams · 16 hours
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Nerdy jisung..... def would be sitting in his car listening to some rnb singer like frank ocean or sza, talking to eachother as the music hums in the background, car was barley dirty. Looks way to clean to be owned by some 22 year old in college, little do you know he had taken it to get washed and cleaned the day before you guys hung out. you both went on random subjects, but he can't get one thing out of his head. that thing was your stupid little dress you had on, sure u wanted to look all pretty for some nerd you had seen in the book store looking at some kid reading level Lego book. Thought he was cute so you asked him on a date, 4 weeks later and 6 dates here you are. Talking to jisung who won't take it a step further cause he wants to move "slow". Right he wants to move slow. So why is he thinking about how sweet you taste, or how pretty your moans would be. He's thought every disgusting thing you could imagine, he's thought about you in the shower as his whines fill up the room, thought about you right before bed as he opened up his photos and scrolled to your very own album that lies in his phone, labeled "💗" cute you had thought when you had saw it on his phone while he sheepishly went on Instagram once you saw it, little did you know he used all the e pictures of you together to get off to when he's alone at night, when you spent the night just that one time because it was raining, he held back every fiber in his body to not quickly run to the bathroom to drop his load. Anyways. Back to your dress. Too short, wayyyy to short for jisung to act like he doesn't even realize. what you realized was him spaced out, "you good ji?" your soft voiced brought him back to reality, "uhm yea, was just thinking" he shyly says as red fills his cheeks. "u sure? Kinda look like a tomato" you teased softly, uncrossing your legs immediately jisung notices, one more move and im gonna lose it. He was right, once you let out a soft sigh while stretching he couldn't be silent anymore, 4 weeks was surely enough...right? "yn, I can't hold myself back anymore please let me touch you" he whined unbuckling his seatbelt, you smile and laugh softly, unbuckling yours soon after. "was hoping you'd say something, wore this dress to get you to fuck me" you smile, sliding over onto his lap mid sentence, "fuckkkkk, it definitely worked cus there's no way your leaving my car without me getting to fuck the living shit out of u" he says while holding your hips down, "always thought of u as a lil virgin loser" you whined softly when he started moving his hips up. "May look like one, but trust me baby i definitely know what I'm doing" he plants hickeys on your neck, sliding your panties to the side as you unzip his pants.
"I know damn well jisung didn't give you all of those hickeys"
"you'd be surprised what that man has done."
"....what?"
"js know he definitely isn't a nerd."
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i’m autistic so when i’m doing Anything i am almost always specifically Avoiding noticing my surroundings, anything going on at all, so when it comes to descriptive writing i’m slowly realising i actually don’t know What to write. i can get a little bit in about physical body things like emotions or pain etc but i don’t reeaally know how to describe an environment or room or anything but i’m not really wanting to start looking for that in real life because it would overwhelm me so i’m not sure how to like. learn it, i guess?
Describing Environments as Autistic Writer
Describing environments can be tricky for any writer, but there's a great method you can use that will help make it easier. For any environment you need to describe, go looking on Google Image Search, Pinterest, Pexels, Shutterstock... wherever... for inspiration photos that represent that environment.
For example, let's say I need to describe a high school gymnasium. Google Image Search gives me lots of great pictures:
Tumblr media
I can go through and find ones that match what I'm envisioning. Or, if I have nothing in mind, whichever one stands out as being a good fit. You can bookmark the image, save it, screen cap it, or print it out. Or, you might just keep the image open for reference while you describe the environment in your story.
Some people find it helpful to create "mood boards" or "aesthetics" with lots of different pictures that represent one location. Then, any time they need to describe that environment, they can look back to the collage image for reference.
Depending on whether you're a "planner" or a "pantser," you may want to gather all your inspiration photos in advance, or you may want to just wait until you come to an environment you need to describe and search for the inspiration images then.
Either way, once you have a photograph to guide you, it's much easier to figure out how to describe what the environment looks like. You can talk about things like layout, architectural structure/elements, size, shapes, color and texture, and decoration. You may also wish to include other sensory details, such as sound, smell, and feel... such as the echo inside a gym, the smell of rubber mats, and warmth from a lot of people crowded together to watch an event.
I hope that helps!
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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!
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dazednmatthews · 1 day
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Headcanons for Chris being with a girl w a completely different music taste than him 🤭 I'm thinking she's taking him to metal concerts, alternative stores w all kinds of shirts and belts and leather, overall how do you think that would go, his reactions at first and all 🙏
okay i tweaked the request just a bit but i hope it still suffices!
chris x music lover!gf
-we all know chris loves music very much
-so when he meets you and you guys start dating he’s absolutely ecstatic to find out you do too
-the difference between chris and you is that while he can enjoy any type of music if it really appeals to him, you genuinely love every type
-exchanging playlists is a must!
-“baby! i made you a playlist.”
-“another one?” he smiles fondly.
-“yes but this one is for that specific outfit you wore when we went to the beach. like it just inspired me.”
-you’re always dragging him to record stores and to hunt for vintage cds for your collections
-he loves going to your apartment because it’s full to the BRIM with posters of your favorite artists, guitar picks, tour setlists— the whole nine
-he typically gets you concert tickets for holidays, anniversaries and your birthday because it’s what you spend most of your money on anyway
-he loves going with you to them because he loves to see you in your element. singing the songs with your whole heart, dancing to the music and smiling so big it makes him the happiest he’s ever been
-one time, at a concert for an artist you’d loved for many, many years, he caught you mumbling along to a song that resonated with you deeply. there were tears streaming down your face as you held your phone with shaky hands. he took the phone out of them, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. when you looked at him confused, eyes red but makeup still in tact, he says, “just be here, right now, ma. i know how much this means to you. i got this.”
-you didn’t think you could love him any fucking more than that moment.
-he constantly proves you wrong though. he’s just good like that.
-sometimes there are certain artists and songs chris really can’t get behind, mostly your metal/pop punk/ punk rock bands but it doesn’t stop him from trying
-“well… i’m glad you like it, baby.”
-he’s always getting you merch
-for your first anniversary he got you matching guitar pick necklaces that were engraved and you loved it so much you made sure to show him just how much
-listening to music together is one of your favorite things to do
-you’re sitting on his bed, music playing from his tv. sometimes you’re smoking a joint, you draped over his lap while you pass it back and forth and exchange lazy kisses.
-sometimes you’re jumping around, dancing together while laughing manically while the tv is blasting, matt and nick trying to bust the door down because of the volume
-“chris! turn that shit the fuck down or i swear to god i’m going to beat the fuck out of you!”
-you never listen
-the next morning is full of scowls but usually it’s you making breakfast so they’re fine
-sometimes, your favorite times, you’ll be reading and chris will be working on something while sitting in bed together, music playing softly in the background. a song will come on and he’ll look over at you, admiring you. when you notice, you raise an eyebrow. “what?” he shakes his head. “nothing. i just love you is all.”
-and because even after all this time, chris still manages to make you feel like he’s looking at you for the first time, you feel your face heat. “stop it.” you say, knocking your shoulder with his. he smiles, that smile made only for you. his eyes are soft, so soft that every look feels like the special kisses he gives you when it’s just you two in a room. “this song reminds me of you every time i hear it. sometimes when you’re away i play it and the distance feels better.”
-you pull his face to you so fast, interlocking your lips and pour every single emotion into the kiss. “i love you.” you repeat it like a mantra, just to make sure he really knows.
-he does. “i think that’s my favorite song.”
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x-liv25-jamieswife · 2 days
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sad avery head canons
@ariscats requested this in a comment under my sad grayson hcs, and i'm more than happy to do it for my fav girl avery. trigger warning for self-harm, suicidal thoughts, and sexual assault. pls don't read if this might trigger you, and if you ever need help, there are helplines you can contact for free. family and friends are obviously also an option (if you'd rather talk to a stranger, you can always dm me (or whoever you feel comfortable with) <3). sorry if some of this doesn't make sense. i wrote this at 1 am. hope you enjoy<3.
avery used to pull out a guitar (cause i hc she can play the guitar) and sing songs for her mom when she was on her death bed
she now visits her mom's grave and does the same thing. she sings her mom's favorite songs on the verge of tears (if she isn't already crying).
avery used to wear an elastic band around her wrist and would snap it repeatedly until her wrist became sore and red (it didn't always make her stop though) when she was feeling overwhelmed or did smth she deemed wrong.
whenever avery would drive across bridges or anything really high up, she would think about jumping off of it.
she used to get her mom or libby to help her bake cookies that she would bring to school to try to get people to become her friend (it never worked)
she used to eat lunch in the back of the courtyard in a secluded place most of the time bc no one wanted to eat with her (until she met max obviously)
i'm currently rereading tig and i can't help but notice how uncomfortable she becomes when someone touches her so i hc drake or some other random creep sexually assaulted her once (or multiple times) and that's the reason why she seems so uncomfortable with physical touch.
she used to cry in her mom's arms wondering why she wasn't good enough for people to want to be her friend
when her and libby were struggling to get by and couldn't afford food, she would save the food for libby and not eat (she would tell her she ate at the diner she worked at but didn't)
when she realized, at the age of six, that her father was a piece of shit who didn't actually want her, she started trying to find faults in her to explain why this might be (she thought that if she could 'fix' herself, her father might want her)
she sometimes purposely gives herself papercuts when she feels really numb just to make herself feel something
when she would live in her car, she would sometimes continuously bash her head on the steering wheel wishing her life could be different.
when she was younger, to get people to like her, she would give them everything she had. she would do their homework for them, would cover for them when they wanted to cause trouble in the school, etc, but, in the end, it was always temporary
whenever she comes across someone who looks like sheffield grayson she freezes up in fear/shock. a little voice in her head tells her she's in danger and they'll hurt her.
after all of the almost-death experiences she's been through, she developed a panic disorder (this is already sort of confirmed) that she has to treat with pills.
she sometimes takes the haters' comments to heart (the comments about her weight, etc). she would start telling herself that skipping one meal wouldn't hurt. jameson noticed really early on though and stopped her before it became too severe.
she's convinced people would be better off without her and that she only causes pain and destruction everywhere she goes (bc of what happened with toby)
she actually hates getting drunk because it reminds her too much of her father. jameson started to notice that she would get really uncomfortable whenever he got drunk so he started to drink less. when he did drink though, he made sure it wasn't enough to get drunk.
because of everyone comparing her to emily, she's convinced herself that she's just jamie's second option and she'll never measure up (personality wise, looks wise, everything). jamie and her talked about it a lot and she's now less insecure.
she gets terrified when she hears noises at night bc she's convinces someone's there to hurt her
she forgives people so easily bc she desperately wants people to actually like her.
in the books she says she doesn't allow herself to want to want things bc it could potentially distract her/hurt her. i also think she doesn't allow herself to want things bc she doesn't think she deserves to want anything.
when she's in a stressful situation or she's having a panic attack, she'll start scratching her arms really roughly until they start to bleed to get herself to focus on anything other than the stress/panic.
the scratches on her arms became too obvious so she started scratching her sides instead.
she can't watch any tv shows with violence/war bc the loud sounds remind her too much of the shooting.
one of the reasons why she realized her father was a piece of shit was bc, once, he got way too drunk and slapped her. that was sort of like the catalyst for her.
bc she grew up so isolated, she's afraid of emotional and physical intimacy. she's afraid she'll start liking feeling loved/close to someone too much since she believes it'll never last (jamie showed her she was wrong)
i'm an averyjameson stan so don't take this the wrong way but avery was affected by jamie thinking of her as only a game way more than she lets on. even after they got together, she was paranoid that he had ulterior motives.
she blames herself whenever something goes wrong in the foundation or hawthorne house even when she had nothing to do with the problem.
she's extremely paranoid when it comes to locking her bedroom door and stuff like that bc of how often her privacy is invaded.
i said this in another post but, especially before she inherited the money, she would sometimes smoke weed to lessen the stress she felt for a little while.
she hates going to sleep bc her sleep is always invaded by horrendous nightmares. it became so bad she ended up in the hospital (jamie was absolutely terrified and made her promise to talk to him more).
she has this one stuffed animal that her mom gave her not long before she passed that she cries into whenever she feels like her life is going to shit.
before she inherited the money, she was actually near her breaking point. she was seriously considering if staying alive was actually worth it.
before she inherited the money, she used to count on her fingers how many people would miss her when she died to convince herself to stay alive (the number was never more than three). the fact that the number was so low made her feel even shittier and made her spiral.
her grief for her mom is so intense sometimes she can't get out of bed. she doesn't eat, sleep, drink water, etc. alisa had to contact a therapist/psychiatrist to help avery get out of bed.
to end on a brighter note, here's a happy avery head canon:
she used to dance all the time when she was younger. she would pull out her mom's phone, start playing some music, and jump around waving her tiny little arms everywhere whilst singing along. she would pretend she was a popstar. her mom would film her and send the videos to libby. the brothers have seen all of them bc libby showed them.
not proof read so i apologize for any spelling mistakes<3. again, pls contact someone/helpline if you ever need help. speaking from experience, things tend to get better. sending everyone lots of love (and my girl avery).
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