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#but I thought it might fit in quite nicely here
bi-writes · 2 months
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so idk where i got this idea but mercenary!ghost x fem!reader because he's scary and mean and dangerous but then he sees some girl's ass in light blue denim.
notes about reader: as always, i tend to write readers described as curvy because im curvy and we deserve attention from 6'4 beefcakes who are soft only for us. reader is a civilian.
mercenary!ghost (part 1/?)
cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dark!ghost, mentions of ghost's past canon trauma (domestic abuse + violence), mw3 spoilers, violence and gore + mentions of murder and extortion, mentions of reader + domestic abuse, protective!simon, size kink (reader is described as much smaller than simon, easily manhandled by him), pet names (luv, bunny + rabbit, puppy, angel face), reader learns she has a dark side and she likes it, nsfw thoughts about reader, suggestive touching (fem!receiving)
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the sound of the burner phone pings on the desk in front of him. when he picks it up, he narrows his eyes as he reads the message displayed across the screen.
DEPOSITED.
when he opens his laptop, his eyes scan over the balance on an offshore account, and he relaxes when he sees the hefty balance climb just a little higher. he closes the device once he's satisfied with what he sees; and like always, he tastes the warmth of that satisfaction. it's a nice high, but it won't last, and then he'll need to feed the gaping hole that lives in him.
it remains hungry. he has never been able to close it--it has only ever gotten wider, ripped at the seams and torn at the edges every time another body close to him drops.
the high is poison. but even if it kills him, no one will miss him. so he picks up the handgun that lays haphazard on the bed, and he tucks it into the back of his jeans.
he passes by the mirror as he fits a dark denim jacket over his shoulders. he stares back at himself, a recognizable beast of a man staring right back. he pulls his hoodie up over him, and in the shadow of it, all he can see are his dark eyes, pale skin peeking through the eyeblack that has lightened up with the wear of it throughout the day.
he craves something strong and warm tonight. he itches for something soft, too, something that makes him forget the red on his ledger, even if for only a few hours.
there is nothing quite strong enough to wipe that kind of stain away. he is nothing if not a reaper, and he buries bodies with the same tenacity that he had when he wore his country's flag on his chest. this time, however, he does not take orders--he names his price.
he thinks something is wrong with him. some used to say that it was his courage that brought him back from the dead--that his heart is too strong, his will to live too much, and that is how he continues to open his eyes and live another day. but he doesn't agree with this thought, because he doesn't really think he feels anything at all.
he doesn't feel human. he doesn't feel alive. the only thing that makes him feel any sort of vulnerability is how red his own blood is when he bleeds. when his scars heal jagged and crooked, it is because there is something underneath the skin. but he feels nothing inside--no remorse, no guilt, he is not sorry.
he does not check to see if those men are innocent. he does not care about the names that end up on his list. he doesn't ask questions. and he thinks something is wrong with him because he sleeps at night just fine now; the nightmares have gone. he is alone, and it is peaceful.
there are no voices. there is only silence. and there is something wrong with him.
the pub is quiet. it is a weekday, and the only patrons are here after a long day's work, and they all look into the depths of their half-empty glasses hoping to find relief there. there is none, but they will finish their glasses hoping it might be dissolved in the alcohol.
he asks for two fingers of bourbon. it stings when it goes down, but then it settles warm. he is poured another two fingers of it, but before he can pick it up, someone else grips the glass and tips it back to swallow it down.
the glass hits the wood of the counter with an echoing thud, and you cough out a fuck as you settle into the seat beside him. you run a trembling hand over your face, and he notices immediately the red of your knuckles and the splitting of the skin there. they are fresh; the bruising is still new, and the blood is just barely beginning run down the back of your hand.
he leans over the bar, swiping the whole bottle of bourbon, and he silently pours more into the glass, hitting it towards you before picking up a new glass and filling it generously.
"who's the lucky bastard?" he asks, and your eyes flick to the cuts on the back of your hand before going back to the dark swirling colors of the drink.
"i'm sure he'll be coming in here any second to introduce himself."
the pub doors slam open, and there is a man coming in, chest heaving, dark hair falling over his forehead in sweaty curls that do nothing to hide the clear bruise on his face the split of his lip. his eyes move over the room before they settle on you, and his boots fall heavy as he makes his way over.
ghost sees his intentions clear immediately. the way his hand twitches at his side, the angry glare, the uncontrollable urge to hurt and to take and to control coming off of him like steam.
he has seen this kind of man before. this man was the one that kept him up at night as a child. this man was the one that scared his mum, that drove his brother to chase vices, that tore apart a house that should've been filled with something warm and sticky and kind into one marred with teeth, rotten and putrid and forgotten.
his hand goes for the back of your neck, and you close your eyes and tense in the anticipation, but it never comes. a strong hand grips his outstretched one, and the man cries out as ghost twists it behind his back and uses his other hand to slam his face into the wood of the bar, trapping him there.
the bartender does not even flinch, just continues to wipe down glasses. the patrons continue to stare into the abyss of their sorrow.
you jump a little, your head snapping to the side where the man squirms and sputters, his face going pale from the paw of a hand gripping him by the back of the neck and shoving his face into the counter. if he pushes any harder, you wonder if it'd splinter and fray, dig into the bones of his bruised cheek.
"this man botherin' ya, yeah?"
your eyes finally flick up. you do not know what you expect, but it isn't this. you can only see his eyes; they scare you. you do not lie because you aren't entirely sure how far his kindness will go.
"yes," you whisper, and when the man tries to spit at you, a rough gloved hand grips his curls and positions his head against the edge of the counter, forcing his mouth open until the top row of his teeth bite the wood.
"y'keep talkin' to her, n'it'll be the last time you talk, hear that, mate? y'talk to me, n'me only."
you swallow hard, and the man trembles. a strong boot hits the back of his knees, and then he's crumbling to the ground, his jaw straining as the counter is still forced against his mouth. hot, pained tears come down his face, and then he addresses you.
"what did he do?"
"bad first date," is all you can manage to sputter. he grips the man by the scruff of his neck before pulling him off to speak, tilting his head to the side as he observes the begging man on his knees.
"y'try to put your hands on'er?"
"i-it wasn't...like that! i-it was just a mis...a misunderstanding, please! please--please tell him--!"
"don't like fuckin' liars either," is the only warning given before his mouth is forced to bite the counter, and then a sharp elbow comes down on his head. you jump in surprise at the suddenness of it all, and you close your eyes when you hear the crunch of teeth being broken. his scream is enough to rattle the pub, but when you look around, it's as if nothing at all has happened. it is quiet, and all the bartender does is shake their head.
when you open your eyes, he's crawling on his hands and knees out of the pub, and what he leaves behind is a mess of blood and teeth and fluid that are splattered against the floor at your feet. you shake as you look up at him, stiff in your seat and soft tears coming down your face.
he towers over you. you have to tilt your head back between your shoulders to look at him face-to-face. you cannot see his face; he hides it behind dark fabric, but his eyes talk loud. they are dark, and they are dull, and you realize as you stare up at him that he is not phased in the slightest by what he had just done. in fact, he steps into your space, and the squelch of blood under his boot doesn't seem to bother him. he wears black, and you wonder, momentarily, if he wears such a color to hide the red hiding between the threads of the fabric. the red he can't wash away.
"let me look at ya, little rabbit."
you flinch when he knocks your knees apart, spreading them to make space for the width of him. he reaches up with one gloved hand and grips your chin, tilting your head to either side to see if you are hurt anywhere but your hand. when he is satisfied with his observations, he cups the expanse of your throat, smoothing those big fingers along the pulsing vein there and feeling the way you swallow.
so alive. so soft. a pretty little bunny, dropped into his waiting hands.
his eyes fall, and he takes you in. wide hips that take up the seat you're sitting in, hugged so nicely by light blue denim jeans. they curve over the swell of your ass, and he wonders how much of it would fit in his palm--he thinks about how it might feel to spread them apart and taste the succulent sweetness that he knows exists between your thighs and how your mouth might look slack jawed and wide open for him.
you look like a good girl, even with bloody knuckles.
then he follows the line of your shirt. it's a simple t-shirt tucked into your jeans, but the neckline gives a nice peek of you and the curve of your tits--they sit so nicely there, all perky, and ghost thinks they look lonely. they would be better off in his mouth or squeezing his cock between them or pebbling between his dirty gloved fingers.
filthy. disgusting. he is scarred all over, and you look so soft and sweet, with those tender puppy eyes and the way your lips tremble, and he bets you kiss all soft and slippery. he bets your cunt is tight and with enough coaxing, he could make you drench his skin with something decadent and slick, with whatever drools into your panties. he imagines it is there now, even as you tremble and shake and plead with your eyes for him to let go of your throat.
but ghost is not a good man. he does not feel; he is not a man at all. he is a beast in the shape of one, disguised, and he brings misery to everything he touches. he knows he will do it to you, too--touching pretty girls, he leaves them with burns. they are not the same after they are with him, and he wants to feel bad about it, he wants to feel something, but he does not. he feels nothing.
"you olright, luv?"
you nod frantically, putting a hand over his wrist that holds you, and he almost laughs. your hand is so much smaller than his own. if he squeezes his hand just a little harder, he figures it would not take much to break what lies beneath it. he leans in, and you gulp when your thighs trap his hips. he is warm, a furnace that burns, but you relax when the side of his mask nuzzles against your face.
he is a dog, and he is fond of you.
you should run. you should hit him like you hit your wretched date, and you should run, far, away from him, swear off men for good and never allow one in your space again lest they be as beastly as this. you should run while you can, but you are a bunny not yet in his trap, and you still have time to escape.
but then both of your eyes open at the same time, and his eyes meet your own, and then--oh.
the cage snaps shut. it rattles around you. it is small and confined, but you don't realize what it is yet because you can still breathe, and it is still warm, and you are still soft and alive and here.
your face softens, and his eyes flicker down to your lips as you lick them. maybe he was right. liars are bad. men like the one you were with before were scum. you had been with men like that before, you had seen the destruction they brought to those they thought they loved. when they wrought fear and made others bleed, they never got in trouble. no one cared to do to them what they deserved because they silenced their lambs and slaughtered the light out of them.
it is biblical--an eye for an eye. if they take from you, why can't you take from them?
it is brutish men like this one that do what others are too timid to. your thighs close around his hips, and you feel something digging into your leg, something metal and heavy tucked into his jeans. a weapon, but you imagine it is a mercy because you have an inkling that what he does with his hands is so much worse. bullets are clean and fast; his hands are not.
johnny would tell him to let you go. he does, over his shoulder, spitting at him to leave, to let you slip through his fingers and find your way out, to open the cage.
the wee lass--look at 'er angel face. let 'er go--not meant for this, LT. she scares. 's in 'er eyes. won't last.
but he does not feel. he is not human. there is something wrong with him, he knows it, but he doesn't care. he will ruin you, and he should feel bad, but he can't, he doesn't. and then there it is--your eyes are flickering low, eyeing the mask, and you are wondering how much effort it would take to push it up and lick into his mouth, taste him, suck the warmth of the bourbon from his mouth and replace it with your own.
he will kill again. the cage is shut, it is locked, and he is watching the bunny in its cage, watching as it becomes aware of its surroundings, takes in what is new. but just like he figures, just like he knows, this little bunny has no idea what this cage is. she has no idea she is even in one.
fuck what johnny says. if johnny was like him, if he was not skin and bone but steel and reptile, he would not have died. he would have come back. he would have moved his head, shaken the blood off, and gotten back up, but he didn't, and he's not here, and he's not real--so fuck what he thinks, fuck what he says, fuck him because he left me, and i'm all alone, and if i don't devour and eat and tear apart, i will wither away because i am not me, i am something else--
he smiles under the mask. you notice it, the slight movement there, and you smile, too, suddenly. his hand falls, and the back of his knuckles graze over the swell of your breast, down your stomach, and then he's gripping your waist. that hand slips behind you, and you brace yourself with both hands on his chest as he cups one side of your ass. possessive and suffocating--you think maybe you should run again, but you don't want to.
you want something more. you want something a little rough, something a little sharp. you want something to tell you that a little blood is good sometimes. that answering blood with a little more blood was exactly how it should be. that we don't have to be docile, to back down. you want to be told that it's okay to bite.
there is something wrong with you.
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mickyschumacher · 11 months
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𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: charles leclerc, at the end of the day, is a simple man. so of course, when you show up to the annual f1 dinner dressed like a goddess, it becomes impossibly hard for charles to keep his hands to himself.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), established bf/gf relation, reader has a vagina, semi-public fingering, breeding kink (?), cum fetish, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks!), edging, orgasm denial
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: charles leclerc x gf!fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+
𝐀/𝐍: first post ahhhh... this was proof read but i wouldn't put it past me to have a few errors. hope you like it! ♡︎
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
"Merde (shit)," Charles swore under his breath as he caught you finishing up.
You raised a brow at him through the mirror of your bedroom. Putting on your earrings, you asked, "What's wrong, Charles?"
You watched through the mirror as Charles walked up behind you. He gave a small smile to you, resting his shin on your bare shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist. You returned a warm smile, leaning into him and resting your hands over his.
He pinched the silk fabric in his hands. "Can I convince you to change dresses?"
A small frown made its way onto your face while you mended your brows together. "Why? You don't like it?" You queried while eyeing yourself in the mirror. You thought you looked quite good.
It was a silk dress in pure white. It had its spaghetti straps that connected to the bunch of white silk hanging around your chest as the rest of the silk clung to you body, fitting each on of your curves snuggly. On the right side of your body, the dress had a slit for your leg to peak through. On the back, the spaghetti straps cross over each other as the fabric hung loose around your lower back.
You had paired it with a necklace Charles had got you for your anniversary: a thin gold chain with a small gold plated heart-shaped ruby. Your hair was also down and styled with a few soft curls that complimented your face.
Altogether, it was simple yet beautiful.
Your eyes snapped to your boyfriend who released a soft chuckle. Charles' eyes twinkled in the light. "Quite the opposite. I love it too much," he whispered into your ear as he rubbed the side of the your hip.
Your felt your breath slow incredibly fast, feeling his lips trail up your neck with small kisses. "Charles," you softly warned. You weren't necessarily complaining. You and Charles often had your hands on each other to the point where one might even say it was sickening. You didn't even have a bra on under the dress. But you both had somewhere to be.
Charles let out a small hum, meeting your eyes in the mirror. He bought his hand out, tracing your lips with his thumb. "Yes, mon amour (my love)?" He asked with feigned innocence.
Your eyes narrowed. "You can't start now. We're going to be late if you keep this up."
Charles pursed his lips, pouting as he turned you around to face him. He pushed your hair behind your ears. "Who cares? We can have dinner here. Just you and me. Doesn't that sound nice, amour (love)? I even know what I want for dessert."
You felt him pull you closer into him, his lips hovering over yours as his hand trailed up and down your leg.
You felt a grin play onto your face. You leaned closer, feeling impossibly close to him. "Oh Charles," You trailed you finger over his lip, in which he clearly invited the gesture as he bought your finger into his mouth. "In your dreams," you deadpanned, abruptly taking your finger out of his mouth and placing a kiss on his cheek.
You let out a sigh, pushing aside your own arousal. "Now come on. We need to leave."
━━━━━━━━━━━
Charles was not a happy man, to say the least. You had practically blueballed him and despite being thirty minutes into dinner, plus the twenty minute drive to the restaurant, all he could think of is you.
You were sat next to him, conversing with Lily, Alex's girlfriend, about her job as a professional golfer. A job that required a lot more training and thought than you had previously thought. Honestly, you were having a such great time that you hadn't realised you were even neglecting your on-the-edge boyfriend until you felt a hand on your right leg.
"Charles, you good?" You asked.
Charles wanted to laugh because you had asked in so much earnest. Like you had genuinely forgot. Of course, he wasn't one to let you forget.
You felt him tug your chair both closer to the table, so the laced table drapes covered you, and to him. His hand moved from your leg to receive the the warmth of your inner upper thigh.
You looked at him almost dumbfounded. "Charles, amour, no," you said through gritted teeth as you gave him a fake smile. It's not that you didn't want to, but how were you supposed to act normal for the whole dinner? Especially when you and Charles both knew what his fingers did to you.
Charles only sported a grin on his face. His fingers continued to creep up your thigh, nearing your white laced underwear, which you had worn for the sole purpose of matching your dress, of course.
Your breathed hitched as you felt his fingers skim over your underwear. Your skin, he could tell, was beginning to burn with heat as it glistened with small traces of sweat. Whether it was out of embarrassment or arousal, hell, or both, Charles didn't care. Whatever was going on, he enjoyed it.
His fingers slid under your panties and found themselves in the heats of your soft lips of your pussy. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip. You were soaked down there. His two fingers already felt drenched. Charles knew that this hadn't just appeared out of nowhere. "Ma belle (my beautiful), be honest with me. You've been wet since you teased me in your bedroom, right? All of this... for me..."
If the slight quiver of your walls near his fingers didn't give you the answer, you sure did with a curt nod. How were you supposed to feel nothing for this blue-eyed, dimpled man who looked good in everything, but especially a suit?
Charles smiled. "That's what I thought. Thank you for being so honest, ma belle. I think that deserves an award," he whispered.
You felt yourself still at his voice as his fingers trailed over your clit a few times before he pushed them into your pussy. You pressed your lips together, suppressing the moan that so desperately wanted to escape your throat.
Charles couldn't help but grin further, darting his eyes from the conversation he was partially in with Carlos and Lando and to the glorious sight underneath the table. He couldn't entirely see your pussy but god could he imagine. You enveloping his fingers entirely as he thrusted back and forth. The trickles of your body running down his fingers.
He cleared his throat, taking a sip of his champagne as he adjusted himself. He was growing hard as every second passed. As much as he loved teasing you and fingering you... he wanted to fuck you. He wanted to watch as his cock entered you... the ring of white you made around him... your hips bucking for more... fuck.
You clenched around his fingers, feeling a pit at your stomach grow. You let out the shakiest and quietest sigh known to Earth. There was no way Charles was about to let cum with some of your closest friends around you... surely...
The answer to that qualm was a 'no' as Charles' fingers started to speed up. Jesus.
You must've been flushed to the max as you had to awkwardly laugh off Pierre's comment to "lay off the champagne". Honestly, that was your limit.
Before you could get any closer to your climax and risk losing it in front of everybody, you placed a hand on Charles' crotch, making him still his fingers and flicker his eyes to you.
His eyes hardened as you slowly rubbed him through his pants. "Charles, if you continue any further, I swear to god, I will blueball you till the end of the week. Let's be patient, okay, sweetie?" The sickly sweet smile on your face was in a hard contrast compared to the harsh whispers falling from your lips.
Charles' tongue darted out his lips and fell to the side. He rested his hand on yours and patted it gently. Although, to anyone, such a promise sounded empty. He was sure you would do it. It happened all the time even unintentionally. He placed a small kiss to your cheek. With a calm composure and through gritted teeth, he murmured, "Okay, mon amour."
━━━━━━━━━━━
The ride back home was impossibly and scarily quiet. There was a lot of tension in the car. The both of you were still hooked on the adrenaline of risking yourselves in public and still horny as ever. Evident as Charles had applied more pressure to the accelerator and the cars nearby went from blurs to dashing streaks.
You were opening the door to your house as you felt Charles’ arms wrap around you. "Faster, mon amour, I can't keep my hands to myself," he whispered, starting kiss your neck.
You felt your heart pick up its pace when you heard the door click closed. Soon enough, both of your shoes were off, Charles' lips were crashing into yours, and your hands were in his hair. The fire between you two had reached a new height as Charles relished the moan that had fallen from your mouth. God, he had been waiting to hear that the entire dinner.
Bringing you back into your bedroom, Charles left kisses everywhere he could as he peeled back the straps of your dress, and gently removed the attired off your body, leaving you only clothed in your soaked panties and his necklace.
"Fuck," he groaned, hovering over you to hold the necklace between his fingers. "You look so good, mon amour."
The smile on your lips made his heart race once again. He smiled, planting a firm kiss on your lips before his hands started to trail down to your chest. Your breasts were what he considered a global treasure in his world, you. He loved everything about them; their softness, their plumpness... but especially, their sensitivity.
Charles latched his mouth around one nipple, leaving his hand to the other. His tongue swirled around the pebbled mound as his fingers circled the other.
You let out a sigh of pleasure, arching your back and raising your hand to feel his hair to push more of yourself into him. The obscene slurps of your breasts went straight to your core as Charles released your nipple with a slick pop.
"Ma belle," Charles breathed out, his fingers reaching your soaked panties. He pulled the drenched material away from your heated pussy. "I need to taste you," he spoke, himself drenched in desperation.
He pulled down the panties, revealing in all its glory, the pussy he had been thirsting over at dinner. He let out a moan as he prodded at your engorged lips.
You feel a shiver come over your body when his breath hit your pussy. His tongue took one long strip at your folds. His blues eyes averted back to yours, holding your gaze and blossoming an indescribable feeling within the both of you. "Look at me, love, while I devour you."
You managed to give a small nod as he returned his attention to your folds, all while maintaining eye contact. "Fuck," you moaned out, trying hard to not throw your head back as he dipped his mouth into you. It seemed that was still hungry from the dinner as he was true to his promise.
Charles was devouring you almost as if he were some sort of animal. He groaned in pleasure, sending a sort of vibrations through your core. He continuously lapped at your folds, drunk on the taste of you. "You taste so good," he grunted, bringing his lips around your clit.
You arched your back into the bed, toes curling at the sheets beneath you. "Fuck, Charles!" You bucked your hips into his mouth, giving into the need to roll your head back. When you looked back up, Charles was a sight to behold. His tongue traveled in circles around your sensitive nub. His stubble was soaked in your juices. He somehow even managed a smirk while eating you out.
"Charles... I'm gonna-" you began before cutting out as his tongue darted further into your folds. "God," you moaned out, your grip on his hair tightening.
"Don't say my name in vain, mon amour," Charles quipped, feeling a slight convulsion of your body as he thumbed your clit.
If Charles wasn't about to make you cum, you would've smacked that grin right off his face. But you were so close...
Charles placed a light kiss to your clit, removing his face from your pussy. He felt a sense of enjoyment follow him as a familiar terror spread over your face.
"No. Charles. Please. God, I want to cum," You whined out.
Charles looked at your flushed face, pushing your hair behind your ears like he did earlier this evening. Somehow, you had become even more beautiful. On the verge of a climax, fucked out, skin flushed and doused in arousal and sweat.
"I need to be in you... fuck, to fill you up, Y/N," Charles hissed in pleasure as he thought about his cum oozing from your hole.
"Hurry, Charles. I need you."
That was all you had to said as Charles rushed to finally take off his clothes.
You watched his thick cock hit his toned stomach and let out a small moan. Charles hovered over you, bringing you into a deep kiss. You could feel his cock nudge the sides of the pussy. Purposely, he dragged himself up and down your folds, intoxicated off the edging feeling.
"Fuck, Charles."
God, he loved the way you moaned his name. It was one of those other things that sent him overboard. Knowing that he was making you feel like that. That it was his cock teasing you. His fingers you clenched around. His voice that made you wet.
Charles looked down to your pussy, aligning his cock. He let out a ridiculously low grunt as he watched your folds cover his cock. You fit him so perfectly, it drove him crazy. His cock was snug and tight in you. It felt like one move in you would send him off.
You let out another moan, feeling his thick cock fill you up. His hands gripped your hips, turning you around so you sat on him. "Ride me, love."
There was nothing Charles wanted more than to see you ride his cock, tits bouncing up and down in sync with his your necklace. And you were happy to comply.
You began to move your hips, hearing the room begin to fill with groans.
"Y/N," Charles moaned, hips bucking to dive deeper into you.
You continued to ride at a semi-fast pace. Lewd sounds of your skin slapping and sticking against one another filled the air. You could feel his cock reach into the deepest parts of you.
Charles sunk his teeth into his lips, watching a white ring form around his cock. The twinkle of your necklace shone in his eyes, occasionally hitting your nipples as it swung around. It was all so much.
You could feel Charles' cock twitch in you, telling you he was close. You grabbed his hands and placed on them on your hips. Your own hands latched onto your breast and the other to your clit.
Charles tightened his grip on your hips before starting to thrust at an immense speed. "Merde," he swore, feeling you clench and take even more of him in you. He could catch the slight shake of your hands as you also neared your climax.
"Come with me, amour. Let me fill you with my cum," he groaned.
That dirty mouth of his and his rousing cock... it was enough to send you over the edge. You let out a high-pitched moan, the end almost silent as your orgasm hit you in hard waves. "Fuck, Charles!"
Charles followed you soon. He moaned, bring you down and holding you tightly. This new angle sent you both into a new spiral. His hips stuttered at an abnormal pace, feeling his cum paint your walls. He let out a string of colourful words, letting his orgasm take any extra drops of his cum into you.
Charles smiled, kissing the side of your forehead. "You did well, mon armour."
You gave him a tired smile. "You too, my love," you murmured before bringing him into a soft and lazy kiss.
Charles watched as you removed yourself from his cock. Only resulting him in a moan from the both of you as his cum trailed out of you.
"God," Charles gulped, feeling his cock harden once again.
You smirked. "I thought you were God, Charles," you teased.
Charles narrowed his eyes at you. "I guess I'm going to have to show you again, ma belle."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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wombywoo · 6 months
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Ok! I've finally decided to put together a (somewhat) comprehensive tutorial on my latest art~
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Please enjoy this little step-by-step 💁‍♀️
First things first--references!
Now I'm not saying you have to go overboard, but I always find that this is a crucial starting point in any art piece I intend on making. Especially if you're a detail freak like me and want to make it as realistic as possible 🙃
As such, your web browser should look like this at any given point:
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Since this is a historical piece, it means hours upon hours of meaningless research just to see what color the socks are, but...again. that isn't, strictly, necessary 😅
Once I've compiled all my lovely ref pics, I usually dump them into a big-ass collage ⬇️
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(I will end up not using half of these, alas :'D)
Another reference search for background material, and getting to showcase our models of choice for this occasion~
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When picking a reference for an actor or model, the main thing I keep in mind (besides prettiness 🤭) is lighting and orientation. Because I already kinda know what pose I'm gonna go with for this piece, I can look for specific angles that might fit the criteria. I should mention that I am a reference hound, and my current COD actor ref folder looks like this:
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Also keep in mind, if you're using a ref that you need to flip, make sure you adjust accordingly. This especially applies to clothing, as certain things like pants zippers and belt buckles can be quite specific ☝️
Now that we've spent countless hours googling, it's time to start with a rough sketch:
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It doesn't have to be pretty, folks, just a basic guideline of where you want the figures to be.
The next step is to define it more, and I know this looks like that 'how to draw an owl' meme, but I promise--getting from the loose sketch above to below is not that difficult.
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Things to keep in mind are--don't go too in-depth with the details, because things are still subject to change at this point. In terms of making a suitable anatomically-correct sketch, I would suggest lots of studying. This doesn't even have to be things like figure drawing, I genuinely look at people around me for inspiration all the time. Familiarize yourself with the human form, and things like weight, proportions, posing will seem a little more feasible.
It's also important at this stage to consider your composition. Remember to flip the canvas frequently to make sure you're not leaning to one side too often. I'm sure something can be said for the spiral fibonacci stuff, which I don't really try to do on purpose, but I think keeping things like symmetry and balance in mind is a good start ✌️
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Next step is just blocking in the figures. Standard. No fuss 👍
Now onto the background!
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It's frankly hilarious how many people thought I was *hand-drawing* these maps and stuff 😂😂 I cannot even begin to comprehend how insanely difficult that would be. So yeah, we're just taking the lazy copy and paste way out 🤙
I almost always prepare my backgrounds first, and this is mostly to get a general color scheme off the bat. For collage work, it's really just a matter of trial and error, sticking this here, slapping this there, etc. I like to futz around with different overlay options until I've found a nice arrangement. Advice for this is just--go nuts 🤷‍♀️
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Next, I add a few color adjustments. I tend to make at least 2 colors pop in an art piece, and low and behold, they usually tend to be red and blue ❤️💙There's something about warm/cool vibes, idk man..
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Now we move on to coloring the figures. This is just a basic block and fill, not really defining any of the details yet.
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Next, we add some cursory values. Sloppy airbrush works fine, it'll look better soon I promise 🙏
And now--rendering!
I know a lot of beginner artists are intimidated by rendering, and I can totally understand why. It's just one of those things you have to commit to 💪
I've decided to show a brief process of rendering our dear Johnny's face here:
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Starting off, I usually rely on the trusty airbrush just to get some color values going. Note--I've kept my sketch layer on top, but feel free to turn it on and off as you work, so as to not be too bound to the sketch. For now, it's just a guideline.
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This next stage may look like a huge jump, but it's really just adding more to the foundation. I try to think of it like putting on make-up in a way~ Adding contours, accentuating highlights. This is also where I start adding in more saturation, especially around areas such as ears, nose and lips. Still a bit fuzzy at this point, but that's why we keep adding to it 💪
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A boy has appeared! See--now I've removed most of the line layer, and it holds up on its own. I'll admit that in order to achieve this realistic style, you'll need lots and lots of practice and skill, which shouldn't be discouraging! Just motivate yourself with the prospect of getting to look at pretty men for countless hours 🙆‍♀️
I'll probably do a more in-depth explanation about rendering at some point, but let's keep this rolling~
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Moving forward is just a process of adding to the figures bit by bit. I do lean towards filling in each section from top to bottom, but you can feel free to pop around to certain parts that appeal to you more. I almost always do the faces first though, because if they end up sucking, I feel less guilty about scrapping it 😂 But no--I think he's pretty enough to proceed 😚
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They're coming together now 🙆‍♀️ Another helpful tip--make sure you reuse color. By that, I mean--try to incorporate various colors throughout your piece, using the eyedropper tool to keep a consistent palette. I try to put in bits of red and blue where I can
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Here they are fully rendered! Notice I've made a few subtle changes from the sketch, like adjusting the belt buckles because I made a mistake 😬 Hence why you shouldn't put too much stock in your initial sketch~
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The next step is more of a stylistic choice, but I usually go over everything with an outline, typically in a bright color like green. Occasionally, I can just use my initial line layer, but for this, I've made a brand new, cleaner line 👍
And the final step is adjusting the color and adding some text:
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Tada!! It's done!
All in all, this took me the better part of a week, but I have a lot of free time, so yeah ✌️
I hope you appreciated that little walkthrough~ I know people have been asking me how I do my art, but the truth is--I usually have no clue how to explain myself 😅 So have this half-assed tutorial~
As a bonus, here is a cute (cursed) image of Johnny without his mustache:
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A baby, a literal infant child !!! who put this wee bairn on the front lines ??! 😭
Anyway! peace out ✌️
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cozycottagetarot · 28 days
Text
PAC: Your Person's Appearance
What Are Their Vibes & Characteristics?
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PILE 1 (Source) | PILE 2 (Source) | PILE 3 (Source)
This was supposed to be a quick reading but idk what happened 🤨. I apologise if it's scattered though I think I saw that every time 😅.
Anyways, this reading covers your person's vibes they give off as well as any notable features about them. As always this reading is for entertainment purposes only. ✨
Version 1 Of This Reading
PAC Reading Masterlist | Paid Readings
PILE 1
Initial Impressions: Dark features, intelligent look, balanced masculine and feminine energies, ambitious, helpful, burnout, (Mount) Vesuvius, mystical, dreamy, starry-eyed, intuitive, regal, physically fit, wish fulfilment, hope, they brighten up the room, a new beginning, secure.
Vibes You May Pick Up On:
They have a quiet confidence. Even if they don’t say much of anything, you can sense their self-assuredness. They could be in a position of power career-wise where they oversee others or an operation but I don’t think that it’s something they’re particularly happy about or take lightly. People may think it’s all fun and games for them but actually, it’s quite the opposite. They could actually be quite lonely despite their work. They could have left home and they can’t return to it. They carry a heaviness with them. Working on themselves and levelling up. Focused. Lost in thought. Optimistic. They could exude a sense of hope and magic, just being in their presence may boost your mood. Busy. Moving from one thing to the next. Coffee shop vibes. Proportionate body. Someone new that you’re manifesting. You two could meet at a time of change and transformation in one or both of your lives. If you’re accustomed to unhealthy relationships or drawn to people that aren’t good for you, this is the opposite. They might not even look like they used to. They’ll have a very nice body… you may really like their legs. They may wear clothes that expose a part of their body... particularly their chest. Nurturing energy. I think you may just kind of know or you’ll feel a sense of peace.
Notable Characteristics:
Hair colours are pretty diverse— you’ve got black, red, blonde and grey (or platinum that came to me as well) hair. They could have curly or kinky hair types. The only one that came out for face shapes was square. Their eyes may be hooded or they may have a monolid. They could have a broad or roman shaped nose. When it comes to their mouth. They could have a cupid’s bow and thin lips, straight teeth and they may smirk a lot or their smile looks like a smirk. The last few physical things are they might be on the shorter side or shorter than you and they could have scars or a skin condition (eczema, vitiligo, etc). Their voice may be smooth or animated. Their style could be very aesthetic or vintage and they may wear a lot of formal/business wear. They may come across as quiet/reserved, intelligent and charismatic.
You can check out the discarded version of this pac here for any additional insights HOWEVER LOOK AT PILE 2!
If you enjoyed this reading check out my other readings here. You can also check out my paid readings as well if you're interested in getting a personalised reading
PILE 2
Initial Impressions: Symphony by Clean Bandit feat Zara Larson came to me, Someone you’re destined to meet.. the one who got away or someone who’s unforgettable from day one, dangerous look, security, a strong appearance, protective, fierce, a wish fulfilled, a musician, someone who moves with fluidity, muse, not the knight you expect, a little bit closed off
Vibes You May Pick Up On:
They may try to stay under the radar, but I think that may be a little hard… at least when it comes to you. You may need some help with them though, as in getting a relationship started. There’s a wildness to them but it might get them in trouble so they try to tame themselves (I also hear tame their desire for adventure). They may not look like their stable but they are and they worked hard for what they have. I think this person may look focused… a little bit scruffy or dishevelled if they’re a man. I felt like you may be cautious of them but I think that they may also come across as guarded and cautious of others. There’s definitely a sense of maturity to them and wisdom. Highly perceptive. They could have multiple ear piercings. You could meet this person by chance. In one of the previous versions (see the end of your pile’s reading) I think I wrote that you two might meet in a way ‘only the divine could have orchestrated’. I don’t know how to describe it, but it may not be a meeting you could have ever thought to dream of/up. I think of wolves when I think of this person based on the cards as well. They may have a tough exterior, not easily approachable. They’re everything you want whether or not you know or see it at first. They may carry a lot of stress. Actually very passionate and inspiring. A diamond in the rough or a lamp that needs polishing.
Notable Characteristics
Short, curvy (I also remember picking up on husky at one point in a prev version), they could wear glasses but prefer to wear contacts. For hair, you guys have a good set of cards so their hair may be a significant feature. The cards around hair were— wavy, unique cut/style, afro (or puffy hair), salt & pepper, short hair, blonde, grey hair, long hair, and straight hair. For facial hair, it’s either clean-shaven or a beard. Their face shape could be round, square or diamond-shaped. For lips, they could have a cupid’s bow. They could have brown or green eyes or their eye colour may look unique. Their voice could be youthful or higher in pitch or on the opposite end deep. You also got smooth and they could have a foreign accent (whatever that means to you). Lastly, some impressions about this person are they may come across as confident, charismatic, quiet/reserved and professional/polished.
You can check out the discarded versions of this PAC here for any additional insights HOWEVER LOOK AT PILE 1! Discard 1 (all piles) | Discard V.2 (your pile only)
If you enjoyed this reading check out my other readings here. You can also check out my paid readings as well if you're interested in getting a personalised reading.
PILE 3
Initial Impressions: Vibes of being a player. Not being from around the same location. Something about their eyes. A rake. Large and in charge. Good with words or a sweet talker. Lively. Someone not to be tied down. Awakening something with you. Happy. Young. Naive. Sociable. Could be from somewhere warm or they could make you warm. Strong. Visually impaired? Intuitive… like they know the "secrets of the universe”. Jewellery may be significant. Wanderer. Hands. Might wear lots of prints. Rings. Marriage material. They could be a risk taker or look like a risk you’re willing to take. They may be quite flamboyant which might resonate a lot if you’re more reserved in how you dress or present yourself to the world. Grey hair. Frustrating. Baby Charli XCX.
Vibes You May Pick Up On:
They might come across as slightly immature and before some of you roll your eyes, immaturity doesn’t always show up as a negative. It could be a playfulness to them that makes you think they haven’t really lived and explored life yet. They may give off the vibe that pursuing them is a risk of some kind on your part. You might feel like you’ve got to be very careful about pursuing them or allowing them to pursue you.
They could look like a social butterfly. An infectious vibe or personality. They may light up the room. For a lot of you, I feel like I’m viewing this person in an educational or work setting and like watching them from afar interact with other people. They could look like a drifter. One dynamic I’m picking up on as well is your person being the type of person willing to pack up and go anywhere on a whim while you may be more cautious and the type to need a plan first. They’ll say ‘runaway with me’ and look at you expectantly while your head and heart battle. They may seem very creative or flamboyant. There’s a sense of home or familiarity too. Not sure how you’re going to get the final cut of this atm, but I definitely picked that up in the first deck I used. “Your person could look familiar to you— it doesn’t necessarily mean that you know them though for half of you I think you could. I think when you see your person you may have that “Have we met before?” moment.”
Physically you may find their hands very attractive. They could be skilled in a profession where they have to use their hands a lot (mainly for crafting I’m getting this scenario) and could either hand you something or demonstrate something where you’re focused on their hands. Very attractive hands lol, this may make you blush. They could look very athletic. Very confident. They may turn your world upside down (in a freeing way I see).
Notable Characteristics
The most notable thing about your person may be their voice. I’ve made some traits/characteristics and the majority of what I got relates to voice. Some traits you’ve got for voice are: soft, smooth, deep, animated (they may speak in a way that paints a picture), youthful/high(er)-pitched voice
Their face shape could be round or oval. They could have wavy/shoulder-length hair or no hair at all. If they wear facial hair, it’d be a beard. Their nose could be upturned or described as aquiline. For eyes, they could be round or have monolids and they may have a unique eye colour. They may have full lips or crooked teeth. Freckles. Tattoos. They may look ethereal or be a boho/laid-back and/or vintage style.
You can check out the discarded version of this pac here for any additional insights.
If you enjoyed this reading check out my other readings here. You can also check out my paid readings as well if you're interested in getting a personalised reading.
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honeydazai · 7 months
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୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬  pregnancy headcanons𝆬 𓏸
feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Fukuzawa, Fyodor, Poe, Nikolai, Sigma, Jōno, Fukuchi
content: f!reader, pregnancy and related symptoms, soft....
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If you truly believe that DAZAI is anything but awfully flirty during your pregnancy, you're wrong. He constantly mentions just how gorgeous and breathtaking — or, in certain situations, outright hot — you look, making sure that you never have any reason at all to feel insecure about yourself, even if you gain quite a lot of weight. Like he cares; he's fond of all women, after all, but especially you, and, in his eyes, it's impossible for you to be anything but beautiful.
That also means, though, that he won't keep his hands off you, constantly fondling your now larger chest, your hips and stomach and everywhere he can reach, really. Deep down, he doubts he'll make for a good father, though he's determined to try his best for the sake of your small family. This includes shedding his usual lazy attitude and helping you with household chores, as well as laying off the alcohol, hopefully.
“You're terrible, bella. Honestly awful — how am I supposed to get any of those papers done when you're next to me, looking this irresistible? It's like you're trying to set me up for failure. Ah—, but I'm sure Kunikida will understand if I take a small break, hm? Get over here, darling.”
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CHŪYA suddenly spoils you even more than he did before the announcement of your pregnancy, though, really, he's just awfully overjoyed. The thought of actually getting a child with you, a true family, still seems surreal to him, like a situation out of a dream rather than something that can happen in reality and, for a moment, he wonders whether he's deserving of something this wonderful. Unfortunately, he's rather busy, but, naturally, he makes as much time to be with you as somehow possible, rolling his eyes at Mori whenever another oh so “urgent mission” comes up.
To make up for him occasionally not being home, you get Kōyō, as well as Higuchi, Gin, Hirotsu and Tachihara who make sure to constantly keep an eye on you. Even if you're simply going out to get some ice cream, one of them accompanies you — and, luckily, they make for surprisingly great friends. While Chūya's life style, being a dangerous ability user who works for the Port Mafia, isn't the safest, he's fairly content that he'll be able to protect you and your child from any harm whatsoever — he'd give his life for yours, after all.
“Hm? I'm not mad. I just—, not at you, at least. I wanted to take ya out on a proper nice date tomorrow, made a reservation and everything, though the Boss just assigned me some apparently important mission. Yeah, I know. Sorry, sweetheart. I'll make it up to you, yeah? Ah, it's already paid for, though. You can take Kōyō or Gin, if you like. They should be free tomorrow. Sorry. I love you.”
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FUKUZAWA never felt for anyone as strongly before as he now does for you, meaning he never imagined himself to eventually grow old surrounded by a loving family, with a partner and a child, even. It sounds too perfect to be true, not like a situation that'd fit into his current life, and yet he finds himself overjoyed after overcoming the initial disbelief, his smile dripping with love, with affection as he gently meets your lips in a kiss, arms immediately curling around your body to hug you close.
During the pregnancy, he's all the more protective of you, unwilling to ever leave your side. If things went his way, you'd accompany him to the Agency's office in the morning and would leave in the evening together with him, though he admits that he sees why that might be a tad boring. He simply aches to keep an eye on you, worried about what might happen to you when he's not around, though several Agency members assure him that they, too, will keep an eye on you.
“I'm afraid I can't accompany you today, dear. I'm sorry. An urgent meeting came up, but I'm sure Kunikida or Yosano would join you. Alright? We'll go there together next time. Just— be safe, yes? I trust you're in good hands. Still, don't hesitate to call me if anything happens.”
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You best believe that FYODOR has made sure to inform himself as much as humanly possible about pregnancies the moment you announced that the multiple tests you did are positive. While he's the slightest bit strict when it comes to topics such as what you should and shouldn't consume, as well as anything else related to the yours and baby's health, he naturally makes sure to completely indulge most of your cravings, too — when you're the one to bring new life into this world, who is he to forbid you from having another pastry or a second bowl of ice cream?
He's so very gentle in everything he does, carefully caressing your stomach before cupping your cheek and pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his smile warm, like he can't believe his hands, tainted ones, are allowed to hold something this pure, this holy. It's safe to say that you've always had multiple security guards hovering around you to ensure your safety, though, now, Ivan makes sure to tend to your every need, too, often bringing you the meal you're aching for or even trying out silly yoga techniques for relaxation with you.
“Ah, now—, careful, dear. Allow me to get that for you instead — you should call for Ivan when I am not around. You mustn't overexert yourself. I would hate for you to hurt yourself. Simply sit back and relax, will you? .. Please, for the sake of us, of our family. It won't matter in the long run whether you or someone else got a snack for you, but it will matter if you climb atop a shelf, fall and hurt yourself gravely. Yes?”
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POE honestly does not quite believe his ears when you first mention you're pregnant. When you end up showing him the positive test, however, his smile is blinding, the most sincere one he's had in what feels like ages. He, unfortunately, is the type to worry; while he's still more than delighted, he's almost tempted to create a pocket dimension in a book for you where you'd be safe and cared for, though he has to stop himself from doing just that. It'd be a little overbearing.
Given how he's more than wealthy, you don't have to worry about anything at all. Whatever you crave, it's yours immediately — as fast as premium online shipping works, that is —, whether it's new clothing to accommodate your changing body, furniture for the child's room, certain snacks only available in a foreign country; anything, really. He also makes sure to constantly check in on how you're feeling, asking multiple times every few hours and, when he's not home for whatever reason, he leaves you a surprisingly large amount of text messages, telling you to call him immediately if anything feels.. odd.
“Are you experiencing anything like cramps? Nausea, perhaps? No? That's a relief. Ah, I just—, that's merely what it said on the Internet, symptoms that could happen. I'm relieved if you truly are alright for now.”
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Usually, NIKOLAI is a force to be dealt with. He's unpredictable, mood changing quickly, his smirk wide and his eyes sharp, though, once you tell him you're pregnant, he's surprisingly gentle in the way his hands move to rest on your stomach, his revealed eye sparkling with joy as he coos at the barely visible bump as if the baby is able to hear him. He keeps carefully running for once bare hands over the stretched skin, telling the child stories and that you're both excited to meet it; anything that comes to mind, really.
If you get odd food cravings during the pregnancy, he's not afraid to supply you with whatever you want, as well as to try them out with you. Perhaps ice cream with hot sauce and pickles will be a new family dessert; he's anything but scared of new possibilities.
“Ah, what are you having, doll? Allow me to try, please? Hm? I'm not stealing from you; now, now, don't be mean—, alright, alright. I admit defeat. At least let me say hi to our sweetheart then, yes?”
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The moment SIGMA learns that you're expecting a child, his child, he's ecstatic. He'll make sure you have everything you might want or need, ranging from all kinds of different snacks you could possibly crave to a personal masseuse if you're feeling sore. The more your bump starts to show, the more often he can't help but rest his hands on your stomach, gently caressing, or even pressing soft kisses to it. There's nothing that gets to him more than the idea of having a family with you.
Despite his initial joy, he's another one who's prone to worrying and overthinking, his warm smile making way for a deep frown when he knows you're not looking. He borders on overprotective with how much he keeps an eye on you, even more so than usual, given how, now, he has two loved ones to protect, not just one anymore and, oh, he's admittedly stressed, constantly thinking that something might happen to you, to the baby.
“How are you feeling, love? Is everything alright? Promise you'll tell me if you feel anything odd, yes? I'm not worried. I just don't wish for anything to happen to you or the baby. Alright, I'm admittedly the slightest bit worried, but I really can't help it. I love you, after all.”
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JŌNO honestly never expected to ever have a child of his own in the first place, meaning that the knowledge of you being pregnant is something he needs to process for a bit first. Nonetheless, he's happy, of course. How could he not be? It's an odd thought, one he'll have to get used to first, but, in general, it's a pleasant one. Naturally, his job comes with some dangers for you and your future
He's protective by nature, having found pleasure in saving people rather than torturing them, and you're no exception. Seeing you smile, knowing that you feel safe with him is the best feeling he could ever ask for, though his desire to protect you from all harm quickly gets overwhelming. It's less harm from outsiders he fears — he deals quickly and efficiently with criminals, thank you very much —, but more you harming yourself, perhaps by tripping and falling when he's not around, resulting in him preferring to take every little task out of your hands. Oh, well.
“My, my, stay seated, dear. I'll handle this. Hm? I'm not treating you like you're fragile. I know you're not sick, merely pregnant; you mention it often enough. Still, is it so wrong for me to care for you? Yes, that's what I thought.”
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FUKUCHI is a busy man. Really, being a war hero and the Hunting Dogs Captain — as well as Kamui, but perhaps that's not something for you to know about —, you'd expect him to be busy with work even while you're pregnant with his child, though that's far from reality. Instead of prioritising work and his reputation, he makes sure to come to every doctor's appointment with you, constantly by your side, and spends as much time as possible at home with you, one hand of his ever so often resting on your stomach, even when the bump is barely visible.
He claims he's able to feel the child's heartbeat already — whether that's true does not seem to matter, not when he's busy peppering your skin in kisses, smile never leaving his face as he wonders aloud whether it'll be a girl or a boy, what their name should be and if their eventual first word will be “mum” or “dad”; his bet is on “mum”, by the way, even though he pretends to be heartbroken by the idea, all too dramatic.
“You look surprised to see that it's me picking you up rather than some chauffeur, sweet thing. Why's that, I wonder? I already told you I'll accompany you to every doctor's appointment you have. The rest of the Hunting Dogs can cover me for one evening. I wouldn't miss this for the world.”
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a part of this was a commission! thank you so much again! 💜 Also the idea of Ivan doing yoga with you had me giggling..
tags: @irethepotato @beandaifuku , @the-foreigner , @ranpobb, @arixsux, @dei-lilxc , @atsyushi @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @marina-and-the-memes @texchou @shiggysredhead @savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @nikolaiswife @okura-s @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @berywritesstuff @alice0blog @xelia25 @yuuotosaka3 @double-black-dazai @fyodorstolenushanka @ttaiyaki @itsnovariella @black-rose-29 @fyodorscumsock @ayshaashaya @qxxstuff @serenareiss @atsvsh1 @dilucshandholder @reiikonee @1-800-mocha
@xvocadooo @hexiisexii @cupxfcxffee @jodidann @Happymoon16 @yumidepain @nchuuyahq @janeinerz @Aaronthegreatestsimp @fanfiction-waifu @KimxKiba @Morigumy @villainouspotential @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @nikolaisgoofyahhhat @yeonwoomyheartbelongstoyou @hellgirlwhore @c4xcocoa @lyrstybsd @angelsrunes @wuaoqu @disa-ster @aspookyscaryghost @nikolaisboner @urgodmoon @polish-anon @arisu-chan4646 @eroscastle @somnobun @birbysaur @Senpaible @hyunlixie143 @dababyurmom @4nthonyyliving @Chxrry-doll
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doobean · 7 months
Text
HIM & HIM - SAE ITOSHI + OLIVER AIKU
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synopsis: You're a tired-out office worker who often relieves yourself from the mundanes in life through clubbing and going to local bars. Little did you know that one night you would be approached by two men and an offer that you can't deny.
contents: explicit content, afab!fem!reader, sex worker!oliver, sex worker!sae, semi-public sex (nightclub bathroom), double penetration, anal sex, vaginal sex, face grabbing, slight hair pulling, nipple play, ass slapping, usage of aphrodisiacs, unprotected, overstimulation, degradation, name calling (slut), rimming/anal fingering, blowjobs, hand jobs, cumming in ass, facials, kinda proofed mdni word count: 3.5K a/n: part 2 of my kinktober event! nevermind maybe this is the nastiest thing I've ever written?? i gave up and am now using words cock and pussy because who can stop me?? no one gets emotionally hurt in this one - sorry to everyone who got sad over my first kinktober fic :(
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It shouldn’t be a crime with how often you find yourself going to nightclubs every weekend. You’re simply letting yourself loose — from all of life’s hardships and the insane amount of unpaid overtime that you’re expected to work at your corporate company. 
You should’ve known it was too good to be true when they misspelled your name in their welcome letter.
And now, with two years down the drain, you feel like the only way you can properly destress is by spending two hours at a random bar and then on their dance floor every week. Some of your friends might suggest going to therapy but who would want to get a therapist specifically for work? That sounds like too much to juggle around. You could also quit, but the job market is absolutely ass right now so why would anyone want to do that?
Searching for your new weekly playground also doesn’t take too much effort versus sifting through various shitty therapists either. You always do a bit of background research before settling on one; it has to offer good drinks at a reasonable price point, the DJs and performers have to be people that you’re familiar with, a dress code would be nice to get rid of some weird guys, and has to have hot guys there. After all, that’s one of the hidden reasons why you love going out solo to these clubs. 
And your mission for tonight? Flirt with some guys, get free drinks, and get shitfaced. 
Seventh Heaven is currently the talk of the town. Having it finished its grand opening almost a month ago, you’ve been seeing it all over your social media pages non-stop. Not only did it fit your criteria, but everyone kept raving about their escorts — male and female alike. You never thought about paying for entertainment, so it wasn't necessarily high on your priority list, but you'd be dishonest to yourself if it didn't pique your interest. 
As the night finally arrives, and as you step into the venue, immediately captivated by the grandeur of the place. The elegant decor, the subdued lighting, and the hum of conversations create an atmosphere that feels both exclusive and inviting. Your legs take you straight over to the bar, where you start your friendly banter with the bartender.
Luckily, the dress you’re wearing has never failed you in getting free drinks. “What should I do to get a margarita around here?” You bat your lashes.
The bartender doesn’t say anything and hands you a sweating glass. You take a sip of it from where you stand, eyes wandering the room and scanning for easy men to prey on. Your eyes dart from table to table, most of the men were already preoccupied by other women. It seems like you aren’t the only one with this idea for tonight. You sigh, shoulders slumping, as you realize that it might take a while for your next free drink. You’re about to pull out your phone to keep your attention preoccupied until—
“Would you be interested in having sex with us?”
You nearly choke on your drink, the tequila burning your nose and throat as you cough down the remaining liquid. You feel a pat on your back and look up. The large hand belongs to a tall, heterochromatic man with wispy hair, he’s smiling ear to ear. Behind him stood a smaller, slender man with sharp features and strikingly teal eyes. Surely, these men weren’t talking to you?
“I-I’m sorry?” You have to do a double-take because wow do they make guys this attractive anymore?
The other man sighs and steps over to remove his hand from your back. “You’re too impatient, Oliver.”
The man named Oliver pouts. “I only said one sentence, Sae.”
“You were being rude.”
“That’s rich coming from you—”
You clear your throat, now seemingly confused about the situation unraveling in front of you. “What’s happening exactly?”
They both pause and exchange knowing looks. 
You clutch your drink close, eyeing the two men and ignoring the rising heat from your legs. “And why me?” 
“You’ve only been glancing at tables with women surrounded by men.” Oliver leans forward and winks. “We might have the same idea for tonight, yeah?” His charm is oozing, it’s contagious. You can feel your knees buckling underneath from his smile.
You can’t remember when’s the last time you’ve had sex. Dating is out of the question due to being overworked and hookups are always a hit-or-miss. Though seeing that these men are staff members from their shared uniform, you would be stupid enough to turn down such an offer. These must be the men that people were talking about.
This week has been overwhelming and taxing on your mental health and you could use a nice break right now. The drink isn’t helping you forget about life that much.
“I’m not a fan of threesomes, so you guys better change my mind by the end of tonight.”
You didn’t question much as they directed you into a bathroom by the far end of the nightclub. It’s spacious, the floor is layered in black tiles, and definitely isn’t just meant for doing your business. The walls are covered in noise-cancellation plush foam, paintings of nude men and women scattered across the place, and there is a small fridge filled to the brim with rolled-up towels by the corner.
“Well, don’t just stand there—” Your back presses against the sink’s counter, spreading your legs slowly for the two men in front of you with a tease of a smile on your plush lips. “—fuck me already.”
Sae reacts first, rolling his eyes at your words before leaning forward and capturing your lips with his. Your arms and hands work fast and, in an instant, you’re tugging at his shirt and belt buckle while crashing your body into his. His calloused hands mimic your frantic motions, grazing and eagerly grabbing the flesh of your waist, thighs, and eventually settling and kneading your ass. You originally thought he would come off as the shy, vanilla type compared to his friend but you’re gladly taken aback. 
You groan against his mouth as he nibbled lightly against your lips, tongue immediately invading the open space given to him. You’ve hardly touched him but you can already feel his painfully hard length pressing against your legs. Instinctively, you spread your legs wider for him to grind on your clothed folds, moaning at the familiar built-up sensation.
“Can’t believe you’re hard for me already.” You coo against his lips, chuckling when he pulls back with the slightest frown etched on his face. 
The playfulness in your tone is immediately replaced by a breathy moan when his fingers plunge against your sloppy folds, pressing tightly. Sae leans in and starts leaving small bites along the sensitive skin of your neck. 
“Says the slut who wants us inside of her right now,” Sae mumbles against your warm skin.
You poise your tongue, ready for a comeback, before letting out another groan when Oliver appears beside you, forcing your hand away from Sae’s neck and placing it on his leaking cock. The taller male hisses in pleasure at the feeling and bends down to meet your glossy gaze. 
“Gotta take care of me too, sweetheart.” Oliver breathes into your ear, the scent of his cologne makes your head fuzzy, and he buckles his cock further into your palm. “We’ll fill you up but it’s me that’s gonna make you cum.”
Sae’s grip on your ass tightens up at the declaration, he snaps his head up and throws Oliver a furrowed brow. Your moans come out in a series of shudders as Sae’s fingers easily pull your panties down your thighs, leaving behind trails of slick from your dripping heat. You bite back your volume and jolt in pleasure when his fingers start ghosting over your entrance but his sight never leaves Oliver’s face.
“Keep count, will you? I’ll be the first one do to so.” His voice stays leveled despite the apparent dark glint over his teal eyes, almost as if he was going to devour you in and out throughout the coming night. 
“Yeah?” Oliver purr against your ear, his large hand finding home at the small of your back and his other assisting your occupied hand on his cock, pumping it slow and steady. Pleasure shoots down your stomach at the sight of his leaking tip and the way it throbs in your hand. Oliver laughs when he notices you shuffling between the two of them, the sweet scent from your folds drawing both of them in. “You want me first, baby?”
Sae’s hand forces your face up, directly in line with his. His expression stays deadpanned as he taps your cheek with his thumb. “Answer carefully.”
You lick your lips, eyelashes fluttering. “Both.”
Oliver laughs and Sae merely hums in satisfaction. Your grip and pace on Oliver’s length fasten as Sae leans in, continuing to ravage the space between your shoulders and neck all while his digits begin sliding into your cunt. You twitch as Sae’s breath stops momentarily at the feeling of the velvety walls inside, taking in every single detail as your legs start to give out from underneath. 
“So fucking filthy,” Sae groans at the wet sounds below and starts scissoring his fingers inside.
The combination of his thick fingers and the feeling makes your eyes blow wide, unable to formulate sentences, and you find yourself grasping at Sae’s shirt in order to ground yourself. He’s teasing, it’s tanalizing with the slow pace he’s set for you. There’s something mysterious and addicting about Sae’s aura that makes you want to please him so that he spares you his time.
Right now, from what you can tell, he wants you to say what you want otherwise he’ll continue to stay slow. 
His teal eyes bore into yours as you grind yourself shamelessly down his fingers with a loud whine. “Make me cum—I wanna cum…”
Oliver moves closer, his stubble grazing above, and places a chaste kiss on top of your head. “Guess you’re taking the first point for tonight.”
Sae ignores his friend’s commentary and silently nods at your request. As you hump against his fingers desperately, Sae goes in and captures your lips before picking up his pace inside of you. Your other hand is currently lathered up in Oliver’s pre, who’s seemingly also enjoying the sight of you taking everything in. His hand on your back roams and stops at your clothed breasts, massaging the soft mounds, and exhales by your ear. 
“You’re doing so good. Do you know how wet you sound right now?” He coos.
You couldn’t say anything back, gasping for air as Sae’s tongue occupied your mouth, and merely tugged at Oliver’s length faster. When his fingers dig and curl at a familiar spongy part of your walls, you roll your head back and let the warm coiled feeling take over. Your head starts to feel hazy, and your body thumps as Sae continues to work you toward your orgasm. It’s not until Oliver starts toying with your hardened buds that you come undone all over the other male’s digits, the sounds from your mouth are full of cursed obscenities and saccharine moans.
“Look at the mess you made,” Sae pulls his fingers out and glances down at his lap. Your slick is sticking all over his forearm and upper thighs, it’s absolutely drenched and you didn’t think you were able to reach that level of pleasure before. 
Sae watches you carefully as your chest rises heavily, your face flushed and tears smearing the makeup you had carefully put on earlier in the night. 
Oliver takes a seat on top of the toilet lid, a hand patting his lap and the other stroking his cock. “Just for you, princess.”
You’re still high off of your orgasm but you feel yourself nodding, babbling nonsense from your mouth as you position yourself facing away from him, angling the tip of his length from behind. Your vision goes teary again. It’s barely even all the way in and yet—
“Shit, did you just cum again?” The tight feeling of your walls fluttering around Oliver makes him moan. He places both of his hands around your waist and guides you further down his length, hissing through his teeth when you finally bottom him out. “So warm, so fucking tight, sweetheart.”
With the angling done right, he’s slamming deep into you over and over again, each stroke eliciting little whimpers from your mouth. Slick is dripping down your thighs and onto his lap, but he doesn't seem to notice, and you couldn't care less since you're fascinated with the thickness of his cock and how beautifully he fits inside of you. You absolutely love the sensation of him sliding in and out of you, nearly fucking you like a toy, and having total and complete power over you while mumbling praise into your ear.
Sae stands in front and there’s a slight annoyance that’s written across his face as he stares down at you. He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “That easy to please?”
His cock springs free from his pants, his head red and covered in pre. While he isn’t as large as Oliver’s, it is certainly pretty, nicely trimmed, and has a thick vein running along its side. Sae tries to control his breathing as your hands suddenly wrap around his aching cock. As you swallow him whole into your warm, wet lips, Sae groans while looking into your half-lidded eyes. His hands instantly fly to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushing his hips further into your mouth, not paying much attention to the way drool is now seeping out of the corners of your lips.
Sae cursed under his breath when you reach down to fondle with his balls gently, massaging the flesh into your palms. You continue to hollow out your cheeks, bobbing your head down his length while Oliver slams against your cervix again. Your constant moans send vibrations down his length and it’s so intense that he has to pull away, his stomach flexes in the process. 
“Switch with me,” Sae barks at the other male but is only met with a chuckle.
“Fuck no, she’s too good for you,” A hard slap on your ass sends a shockwave through your body. “You can keep fucking her sloppy mouth.”
But that didn’t stop Sae from getting what he wanted. He grabs your wrist and pulls you out of Oliver’s grasp before sharply turning you around. Sae’s hands rest on your shoulders, the applied pressure from him indicates that he wants you to sit back down on Oliver’s length. You silently follow along, feeling his intense gaze from behind, and wrap your arms around Oliver’s neck for support as you edge yourself down. You’re whining again, still not used to having something so thick and filling inside, and Oliver leans in, kissing you on the cheek in an attempt to comfort you.
“Told you he’s the rude one,” He murmurs teasingly.
“Be quiet,” You can imagine Sae rolling his eyes.
You whine louder when you feel a sudden wet muscle brush over your ass. It’s Sae’s tongue. He’s making lazy circles around your other hole, before slipping a finger easily in. You clench yourself tightly around Oliver at the new feeling. You haven’t realized that your asshole is much more sensitive and you can’t help but move your hips, wanting more.
One finger. Then two. And three.
Sae moves them slowly from inside, curling them and stretching out your hole for a few seconds before retracting. Within moments, you feel his cock probing at your entrance, causing you to moan and wither against the larger male. 
“You can take it, don’t act like you don’t want to get filled up by two guys.” Sae pushes the first inch forward, inhaling a deep breath when it goes in with minimal resistance. 
You feel his cock twitch inside of you with every forward movement. Your legs begin to shake from the build-up pressure from both holes. You’re gasping loudly, struggling to breathe as your eyes shut tight, and your mouth goes slack from the intensity that it almost hurts.
Your loud wails are quickly silenced by Oliver’s hand, his thick digits shove their way into your mouth as he continues to bounce your shaky figure down his hardened shaft. 
Tears begin to blur your vision at the intensity of it all, the aching feeling from your hips, ass, and cunt from the constant stimulation is getting to you. Just when you thought this was the height of it, Oliver pulls out a small glass vial from the pocket of his shirt. It’s a clear substance, unlabeled, and you’re sure it’s not regulated by any means with the look he’s giving you right now. Sae slows down his pace from behind and you feel his chest rumble lowly against your back, seemingly knowing what might happen next.
“Sweetheart,” Oliver’s free palm caresses your flushed cheek, a more careful and delicate touch compared to earlier. His hand stops at your mouth, thumbs rubbing softly over your lips in his way of coaxing you to open up and chuckling when you easily obey. “Gonna make you feel good, I promise.”
Luckily, the substance didn’t have a taste to it. The texture is almost like water and it flows down your throat with ease. What you didn’t expect is the drug taking effect on you almost immediately. As if your body has risen in temperature, you start to heavily pant, hands gripping Oliver’s sleeves while you lean further back against Sae’s firm chest. The two men both let out groans of their own when you start spasming from the inside, their cocks fighting with your hot walls. 
Slowly, they begin to pick up their initial pace. Oliver watches as your mouth goes slack, pools of drool spilling out, and eyes roll back. And, while he knows he should let your body adjust to the change, the sight of you all fucked out is enough to drive him crazy and he quickly finds himself slamming into you, a force so strong that it makes Sae break his focus. 
“Stop hogging her all to yourself,” Sae snaps.
“Maybe you should try harder, no?” Oliver’s free hand settles on your breast, toying the nipple between his thick digits, earning a squeal from you. “Or else we’re gonna be here all night.” 
His comment spurs Sae and he finds himself speeding up, fucking your ass deeper and messier than before. All signs of his previous stoic emotions melt away as his hand reaches to grab a fistful of your locks, tugging it harshly followed by a sharp slap on the flesh of your ass. 
You can’t contain your cries, sobbing loudly in pleasure as both of your entrances elevate to another level of sensitive heights. 
“Oh—! Yesyesyes give it to me…!”
“I knew you could take it,” Oliver latches his mouth onto your breast, dual-colored eyes looking up as he twirls his tongue around your pebbled nipple. “Such a good fucking girl, taking two cocks at once.”
Your walls are spasming uncontrollably around them. “I-I’m gonna—” Your nails dig deep into Oliver’s forearms, leaving behind half-crescent marks as you moan louder, wordlessly begging both males not to stop.
Your toes start to curl, and your mouth drops as your third orgasm strikes you after one final, expertly aimed stroke against a particular area inside of you. It’s loud, messy, and incomprehensible, and Oliver groans when you press closer to him. You release yourself all over his cock, the pool of liquid drenching his lap. You find yourself reaching another orgasm as Sae reaches over, hand gripping tightly around your throat, forcing you to look into his eyes.
“Your ass is mine, you understand?”
Your eyes roll back, nodding numbly. “Yes—oh my god—it’s yours!” And another wave comes, the coil in your abdomen snaps and you clamp down around the two men again.
Oliver continues snapping his hips into your cunt, a few seconds after, you notice his pace is a bit more feverish and out of focus. Sweat is dripping profusely down his face and he smirks. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I have to tap out soon.”
Sae’s palms rest on either side of your ass, kneading the flesh deeply. “Fuck—”
Oliver quickly pulls out and streams of white warm spurts hit across your face as Sae fills you up from behind. You can feel him twitch inside you and tighten his hold on your body as he spills out his last drops inside. For a while, the three of you stayed stationary, labored breathing, and mirror foggy from the long session. It’s not until when Sae pulls out that Oliver decides to also get up.
Sae grabs a warm towel from a small fridge in the corner of the room and begins cleaning up your face while Oliver adjusts your dress straps back on. You couldn’t ignore how soft and tender both men are acting despite what just happened. You sigh in relief, your heart and senses calming down from the drug and your last orgasm, as you struggle to stand.
“Next week,” You murmur, looking at them with doe eyes, between heavy breathing. “Will you guys be here again next week?” 
Maybe you can endure your shitty office job if they’re around.
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KINKTOBER TAGLIST (PART II)
@milkistoshi @mareonyan @saenora @blissblossom @wowonamo
1K notes · View notes
ellecdc · 29 days
Note
I'm sick rn so I wanted to know if you could do a little comfort fic of moonwater taking care of sick reader or something pls :)
awe so sorry you're unwell babes! hope you feel better soon <33
poly!moonwater x fem!reader who has the flu
Another shiver shook your frame even from your place burrowed deep beneath the thick duvet in your spare bedroom.
You’d woken up a little late this morning; Regulus needed to be in the office early for a meeting, and Remus had a meeting with his publisher, meaning you had been on your own. You felt awful, but ultimately hoped that as the day had continued, you might perk up a bit.
You did not perk up. In fact, you ended up spending so much time in the bathroom that your boss actually suggested you go home for the rest of the day.
Too poorly to feel as embarrassed as you probably ought to, you readily accepted and returned to yours, Regulus’, and Remus’ shared flat.
It took nearly all your effort to change out of your work clothes, change the bedding in your shared bedroom so that the boys wouldn’t have to sleep in your germs, and set yourself up in the guest room with a bucket just in case.
You’d slept on and off quite fitfully, waking up with a start when your fever induced brain concocted the most ridiculous nightmares to alert you to your sweaty and discomfited state. 
You were so poorly that you hadn’t even realized anyone was home until Regulus was standing in front of you like a creepy vampire watching you sleep.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Regulus.” You muttered, slapping your hand to your own chest as you tried catching your breath, which caused a small coughing fit.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Your boyfriend asked incredulously.
You groaned as you rolled back onto your side to face him.
“Hello, Regulus. It’s nice to see you.” You deadpanned.
Regulus huffed and dropped his briefcase.
“Hello, amour.” He deadpanned in return. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He asked again as he gently sat on the edge of the bed to place the back of his hand to your forehead, grimacing in response to your sweat or your fever, you weren’t sure. 
“I’m sick.”
Regulus made a pathetic cooing sound that was so contrary to his sharp demeanour made all the more severe in his smart work attire, it was almost comical. 
“Why didn’t you call me?”
You huffed at that. “So, what? So, you could come home and watch me barely sleep? I was fine.”
“Fine.” Regulus scoffed. “You don’t look fine, amour.”
“Words hurt, Reg.” You groaned as the pain behind your eyes grew.
Regulus made another cooing sound and stood.
You thought perhaps he was getting up to change or whatnot but opened your eyes to see him with his phone pressed to his ear.
“Regulus, what are you doing?” You demanded with all the sternness you could muster, which was not much at all in your current state.
“That’s enough out of you.” He muttered quietly as he brought his phone back to his ear.
“Hi love, how are you?” He spoke over your attempted rebuttal.
You could hear your other boyfriends’ low tones responding to Regulus from the other end of the line.
“Good. It went well, thank you. I just got home actually, Y/N’s already here; she’s quite poorly.”
Though you still couldn’t make out the words, Remus’ voice picked up in volume. 
“No, she didn’t tell me either.” Regulus commented, sending you a pointed glare.  
“Okay, yeah. Alright, we’ll see you soon. Yeah, love you too. Bye.” 
You groaned petulantly. “Why’d you do that? He doesn’t have to come home for me.”
“Maybe he’s coming home for me; ever consider that?” He snarked back, pushing some of your sweaty hairs away from your head to press a kiss to your head.
“You’re a furnace, amour. Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t taken any medication?”
He got his answer in the form of a guilty expression.
“Tu vas être ma mort. Tu as de la chance d'être si mignon.” He muttered as he left the room to change and gather some things for your flu. 
You came back into consciousness to the sound of Remus and Regulus speaking gently.
“I hate to wake her up, but she really should take something.”
“Has she eaten, though? She shouldn’t take anything on an empty stomach.”
“If that bucket is any indication, I doubt there’s anything in her stomach at all.”
“Can you guys go do your worrying elsewhere, please? I’m trying to die in peace.” You groaned, caused Remus to gasp and Regulus to scoff.
“Dovey! Oh, my poor girl. What happened? Are you okay?” Remus cooed, kneeling on the floor in front of you to start petting at your head.
“I’m okay.” You croaked.
“You’re a liar.” He responded; words pointed but expression loving.
“Do you think you can eat, amour?” Regulus interrupted. 
“I don’t want to.” You moaned.
“That’s not what I asked, love.”
Remus tsked at Regulus’ coldness and took your face in his hands.
“Dove, can you try? Please? For me.”
You groaned very petulantly but began sitting yourself upright nonetheless. 
You allowed Remus to position your pillows and arrange the tray Regulus had prepared for you on your lap, but you drew the line at him trying to spoon feed you the stew.  
“Did you wake up this poorly?” Regulus asked from the end of your bed.
“Sort of, but it got worse at work.”
The air was sucked out of the room as both men turned to look at you incredulously.
“You went to work?!” Regulus gawked.
“Why, dove?”
“Ma MORT, je le jure!” Regulus groaned exasperatedly. “Why didn’t you call us to pick you up?”
“And you took the time to change the bedding and move out of our room when you were like this?” Remus added.
You were beginning to feel embarrassingly teary as you put your spoon down and pushed the tray away from you.
“I didn’t want you guys to get catch this. I just... I was fine.” You sniffled and wiped at your eyes as the first tear fell.
Remus tsked again and rested his forehead against your temple, and you realized then how much cooler his forehead felt against yours. 
“Okay.” Regulus said quietly, picking up the tray from your lap and placing it on the dresser. “Can you take these for me, love? Fever reducers and anti-nausea for now; we’ll see how you feel in a few hours.”
He held the pills out to you in his palm and held a glass of water in the other. You hiccupped and sniffled before accepting both, handing him back the glass half full once you were done.
“Thank you.” Regulus whispered gently, kissing your forehead and bringing your tray to the kitchen.
“I’m sorry we scolded you, dovey.” Remus whispered into your cheek, causing new tears to fall. “We just worry; you know that, right?”
“Yeah.” You whimpered, and even you could tell it was sort of pathetic.
“Oh, my poor darling.” Remus cooed, standing from your side to climb in on the opposite side of the bed. 
“Don’t, Rem. I don’t want you to get sick.” You whined, though allowed your body to be pulled into his side.
“Tough.” He said simply, punctuating the sentiment with a kiss to your temple. “Then I’ll just get to call in sick too.”
You were sure the tears were mostly from exhaustion and discomfort, but you couldn’t seem to get them to stop.
“What’s the matter, hm?”
“I don’t feel good.” You whined.
“I know, babydove. I’m sorry.”
That’s how Regulus found you when he came back to the room; you crying into Remus’ shirt as he rubbed broad strokes up and down your back.
“Rem, we’re trying to bring her temperature down, love.” He admonished gently, though sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his own soothing strokes on your clammy arm. 
“You try denying this sweet girl her cuddles, Reg.” Remus responded.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before placing a cold wet cloth on your head. 
“I’m sorry you’re so poorly, amour. And I’m sorry if we made it worse.” He apologized. 
You quickly shook your head (which you immediately regretted as the nausea threatened to return). “You didn’t; you don’t.”
“I upset you though, I’m sorry. I’m too rough sometimes.” Regulus admitted, sounding almost as teary as you. Remus tsked and reached one of his hands over you to take Regulus’ hand.
“I know what you’re thinking, love, and you’re wrong.” Remus insisted. “And I know you’re wrong, because your parents wouldn’t have fussed over you at all when you were sick; so there’s no way you could be acting like them right now.”
The fact that Regulus had spent any amount of time worrying that he’d been too harsh with you, that he’d been at all like his awful parents caused your few tears to turn into true crying.
“I’m sorry Reggie.” You cried, turning to look at him. His brows furrowed dramatically, and he looked just as close to crying. “If you weren’t here; I’d be sitting in bed with no food, no medicine, no cloths, and no love.”
“Well, you maybe would have had some love.” Remus argued from your other side.
“I would’ve died.” You insisted.
One tear did fall from Regulus’ eye as he smiled sadly at you. “I just hate to see you so poorly, amour. You should always be happy and lovely.”
“I am. I’m better when you’re here.” You insisted.
“How dare you insinuate that our sweet darling girl could ever possibly be not lovely, Regulus. Absolute blasphemy.” Remus scolded, causing both you and Regulus to chuckle. 
“Terribly sorry, you two. I seem to have forgotten myself.” He laughed, turning the cloth over on your head and trailing his fingers down your jaw to massage at your neck. 
“Don’t let it happen again.” Remus instructed.
You fell asleep to the sound of Regulus promising that he wouldn’t. 
458 notes · View notes
huskersbooze · 2 months
Text
Bambi
Alastor x Reader
Summary : Alastor returns from his outing one day, finding a guest lying on the floor, unconscious, in front of the Hazbin Hotel. Untrue to Alastor fashion, scaring most of the staff members, he decides to keep the fascinating creature in his broadcasting studio, and when she wakes up, she's forgotten everything, even her name. And when Alastor starts calling her nicknames in the mean time, he accidentally gives her one that she ends up growing attached to..
Warnings : N/A
Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader (Gn!Reader here, M!Reader here)
Additional tags : Fluff(?), mentions of amnesia, Alastor actually being nice?!
Word count : 1.06k
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“Wonderful, just wonderful! You’re awake!”
A staticky voice drew you out of your thoughts. Surprised, you snapped your neck towards the sound, and a rather tall and slim figure was right at your face.
“Charming, I haven’t seen you around here before!”
You flinch as the figure leans closer, causing them to back away slightly.
“Who.. who are you?”
“Pleasure to meet you, dear, just a pleasure! I'm Alastor, the Radio Demon. And who might you be?"
"I..” You reply. “I don't know." 
He seems taken aback by your response slightly, but his smile doesn't falter. Instead he cocks his head to the side and blinks at you.
"What's your name?"
You stay quiet for a while until you give an uncertain head tilt back to him.
"I don't know.."
The grin still very much glued to his face, he leaned a bit closer to you, voice dropping to a more hushed tone.
"Darling, you don't remember your name, or you don't know your name?"
"I.. I don't remember." You fight the urge to start fidgeting with your hands, looking down to the ground as your memories become a hazy blur.
"You don't remember? Your name? Anything?"
"No.."
He doesn't seem to let his bright smile falter at that, although his expression shifts slightly towards curiosity.
"Quite the fascinating creature you are." He blinks a couple of times before he shifts to lean against what seemed to be a broadcasting panel, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Intriguing, really. Do you know what happened to your memory?"
"No.. not really."
"Well, that's unfortunate." The Radio Demon lets out a chuckle, static still laced in his laugh. "It seems you're in a bit of a dilemma, aren't you, Bambi?"
"Bambi.. I like it." You reply.
"Pardon me?" He raises his eyebrow at you, surprised at your statement.
"Bambi. I like the sound of that."
He laughs, a smile sounding from him again. There was something so unsettling yet alluring about him.
"That is rather fitting, I suppose. Bambi.. it's not a bad name." He thinks for a few seconds, stroking his chin as he considers. "And I suppose I'll need something to refer to you if you're staying. It fits you.."
"Staying?"
"Where do you think you are right now, darling? You certainly didn't expect me to leave you out there with your memories wiped with nowhere to go?"
"I.."
"Surely you hoped to stay for accommodation and basic necessities?" The Radio Demon asks, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "You've lost your memory after all, have you not?"
"Yes.." You hesitantly replied. Sure, you've lost your memory, but you weren't stupid enough to follow a random Radio Demon around without knowing him.
"I don't bite, Bambi. I can guarantee everyone at the hotel will treat you with the respect you deserve. And if they don't, all you need to do is let me know and I'll handle them for you."
"Hotel?"
"My, my, you really are a clueless little deer." Alastor uses a cane-typed staff to ruffle your hair. “So fragile and just the cutest little thing.”
“Thank.. you?”
Alastor tilts his head to the side curiously.
"It seems as if my teasing isn't upsetting you. How strange." He merely comments. “Oh, to understand your lost little mind.”
You carefully scan the room. It seemed to be a broadcasting studio, the room simply in red. Totally wasn’t sinister at all.
“So, what do you say, Bambi? We wouldn't mind providing you with all the necessities you need for now.”
“Necessities?”
Alastor chuckles again.
"Like, a bed, for example! Or, oh, I'm sure you'd want new clothes as well, right? And... if that's not enough, we do serve breakfast the next day. If you want food, that is..."
“Jambalaya..” You mutter, mostly to yourself as you’re lightly lost in thought.
Alastor’s grin widens a little, his ears perking slightly at the sudden mention of his favourite food.
"I can't say that I was expecting that, but... yes, we actually do have jambalaya on the menu for lunch. How'd you know that?"
“Oh, sorry.. I was just talking to myself. It’s my favourite food.” You stifle a blush as you let out an embarrassed smile.
“Ah, so you do remember some things, Bambi.” He raises his voice in curiosity, walking towards a trapdoor in the floor. “Come along, dear, let’s bring you to Charlie.”
“Charlie?”
“The owner of the hotel, and also the Princess of Hell.”
“We’re in hell?”
Alastor stops in his tracks as the two of you reach the hallways, finally out of Alastor’s broadcasting tower.
“After our whole conversation, you just noticed?”
“I.. I suppose so.”
“Oh, dear, you really are just one mysterious creature, aren't you? To think you just appeared here, with no memories of yourself, of the world, and even what you're doing here in Hell. You are truly fascinating..”
Alastor smirks, speaking in a lower voice. “Charlie will be delighted to have you here.”
After introductions and such, Charlie settles you into the room next to Alastor’s, opposite of Angel Dust, and introduces you to all the staff.
“So.. who are ya’ exactly?” The white spider raises a hand, slouching on the couch with a grey cat beside him. 
“This is our new guest!” Charlie introduces. “Alastor found her unconscious and offered to let her stay.”
“That doesn’t really answer the question, princess.” The grey cat speaks up, seemingly bored from the unoriginality of these introductions.
“Well, Husker, our little friend here has lost her memories.” Alastor speaks up from beside you, ruffling your hair with his staff-cane-thing once more. You still couldn’t make out what it was really supposed to be.
“Lost her memories?” Vaggie is the one to speak up this time. 
“Indeed. It seems our dear friend doesn't even remember her own name, let alone anything else.”
“Then what a’ we s’posed to refer to her as?” Angel questions.
“You could call me Bambi..” You mutter softly, gaze glued to your own feet.
“Works for me.” Husk shrugs.
“Sure.” Angel replies.
Vaggie and Niffty nods.
You feel the static beside you grow a bit louder, and as you shift your gaze, you see Alastor keeping his composure with his backs behind his back, his eyes on you as he gives you a soft, and genuine smile.
“You’re going to love it here, Bambi.” He says.
———/ End. /———
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Text
Erm... Sorry? - Lando Norris
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<word count - 1119>
"Lando?" You called out after just getting home. Your roommate, Lando, was home for the first time in a while. His job meant that he was away a lot, so it was nice to see him around. Sure, you enjoyed the quiet tranquility, but you missed him. 
"In here!" He shouted back as you located him in the living room. You couldn't help the goofy smile that grew across your face when you saw him. You stood near the couch, waiting for him to make a move. "So are you going to give your friend a hug, or are you just going to sit there?" you tutted with a sarcastic roll of your eyes. 
"I think I'll just sit here," he stifled back a laugh, looking you up and down. He really did miss you while he was away, more than he'd ever care to admit. Even if he could quite easily afford to live by himself in a much nicer apartment, the two of you had shared this one for years. 
You had been friends for nearly as long as you could remember, and your parents had always teased the two of you. They did even more so now that you still lived together, even after your completely different situations and lifestyles. 
You were Lando's one normal thing. When he didn't have a normal childhood, with karting, then racing and everything in between, he had one constant thing in his life. You. His one safe space, and his one best friend. And he'd give it all to keep it that way.
"Don't be a dick, Lando," you playfully scoffed, opening your arms out to him. That was all it took for him to lug himself off the couch and wrap his arms around you. "I missed you," he mumbled, but you could only feel the reverberations through your skull, not hear the words. 
"So, how was everything?" You asked, letting go of the embrace and sitting down on the couch beside him. "Good, good, very stressful though, to be honest," he nodded. Lando was always honest with you, since you could read him like a book. 
"You know, you should just take a night when you're there. No parties or anything, just a quiet night in your hotel room. Or you can call me, whatever suits. Might take the edge off," you told him. Yes, you had told him many times before, but it didn't hurt to rehash it.
"I know, baby, I know," he sighed, leaning his head back and resting it on the back of the couch. You sat there for a moment, mouth open like a goldfish. Baby? you thought to yourself. Lando clearly hadn't noticed what he had said.
"Did you, uhm, did you mean to call me that?" You stuttered, blushing profusely. You thought he could have just been taking the mick, but his lack of a reaction told you otherwise. "Call you what?" He asked, completely oblivious.
"Baby." You said, your eyes flickering up to his face to try and gauge any sort of a reaction. "What? I didn't call you-" he started, but then it clicked. His mind had cast back through the past few sentences, and he just looked at you, dumbfounded. 
"I, erm... Sorry? It just kinda... Slipped out," he reasoned, unable to make eye contact with you. You could see he too was also flushed as he ran a hand through his curly locks.  You both sat there in uncomfortable silence, neither of you knowing what to say. 
"Sorry..." Lando mumbled again, his eyes flashing up to yours and back down to his hands, which he was fidgeting with in his lap. Lando was mentally scolding himself - he couldn't believe he had let that slip. 
He had wanted to tease you by calling you an affectionate nickname, but he didn't mean for it to slip out in a genuine manner. It just rolled of his tongue naturally, almost out of habit. He liked the way it sounded when he was talking to you, it fit for him. 
"It's OK, it was an accident," you nodded, but it came off more as a fact that you were trying to convince yourself of. "Yeah, an accident, yeah," he confirmed, repeating the word over and over again in his head until he hopefully believed it. 
Your heart stopped for a second. You saw that particular glimmer in Lando's eye. The one that told you his was lying to you, but he was trying his best to conceal it. But, you didn't want to push it, things were awkward enough.
On the other hand, Lando was contemplating doing the exact opposite thing. He wanted to push it, arguably, too far. He could tell you had sussed him out, and he should have guessed that lying straight to your face would get him absolutely nowhere.
Without allowing himself a second thought, Lando put his hands on either of your cheeks and pulled you in, close to him. He slightly hesitated when his lips were barely even a millimeter away from yours, before mustering up all of the confidence he possibly had in his body. 
He pressed his lips against yours, the tension of the moment melting away for a slight moment, before he pulled away again. "Lando..." you sighed, placing an affectionate hand over one of the ones that were on your cheek.
Lando swiftly retracted his hands away from you. "Sorry, I just-"
"Lando,"
"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have kissed you I just-" Lando frantically rambled, his leg nervously bouncing up and down. "Lando, listen," you softly said, trying to calm him down and get him to think for a second. "No, but I shouldn't have done that after I called you-" He started fumbling again. 
You didn't know what else to do, so you tugged him closer to you and stole his lips with yours. "Take a breath for me, yeah? It's OK," you tried to soothe, but you could tell he was very embarrassed by what he had done. "Did you just kiss me?"
"It stopped you needlessly apologising, didn't it?"
"Needlessly? You mean I don't have to say sorry?" He asked, nearly completely gobsmacked. He thought you'd yell at him, maybe make him leave the apartment or leave yourself. "Are you going to keep rambling or are you going to kiss me again?" You asked, looking at him in a way you never had before. 
It was the softness of his touch, how tenderly he had kissed you. It left you surprised, but desperate for more. And Lando could happily give you more. "Now that I can do, baby." He smirked, pulling you closer again. But this time you weren't surprised, not in the slightest. 
A/N - I want to write, but the lack of motivation and inspiration I have had in, what feels like, the last few months is so frustrating. I wrote this a while back, just never posted it. I'm halfway through a couple requests, they are coming.💖
|masterlist|
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bigwishes · 9 months
Text
Tummy Trouble
Connor flexed at himself in the mirror, he'd been lifting for years but still was no where near as big as he dreamed to be. He looked at some of his buddies in the gym that had gotten bigger than him taking roids but Connor didn't want any of that crap, he wanted to get as big as he could naturally, without risking his health.
Still he couldn't help but wish he was so much bigger.
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Connor was on his way out of the gym when someone stopped him.
"Hey bro," the man grabbed Connor by the arm
Connor turned to see a unbelievable tall man who was insanely muscular. The straps to his tank top where barely visable between his shoulders and traps, the length of his tank top wasn't quite long enough to cover up his entire torso and his gym shorts looked more like spandex underwear. Connor was both turned on by the sheer size of the guy and turned off, he was clearly a roid head.
"eer, hey man"
"hey bro you look real fit, are you training to get bigger?"
"yeah man, as big as I NATURALLY can" Connor made sure to pretty much shout naturally at the guy, he'd had too many roid heads try and sell him gear in the locker room before but never had one brave enough to try it out the front of the gym
"aw yeah man, nice nice, look I got a sample for you"
"sorry man, Im not into enhancements or roids or whatever"
"you got me all wrong bro, no roids, its free gym gear we are giving out some clothing samples and asking for feedback for payment"
Connor's face turned bright red with embarrassment, now he seemed like some entitled asshole who thought he was too good to even talk to anyone not natural.
"bro I'm so sorry, I just, normally when a guy like you asks me if I want a sample in the gym" Connor began to stumble over his words trying to back peddle realising he basically just called this guy a roidhead without proof
"a guy like me?"
"yeah, eerrrrr, ya know big and..."
The giant man began to laugh and slapped Connor on the back "I'm just fucking with you mate"
Connor let out a sigh of relief
"but hey mate, so you're all about the natural look yeah? but you also wanna be a massive tank?"
"yeah man, look I know I might be dreaming but I wanna be fucking huge, like you, I just don't wanna take any enhancements"
"I think I got something for you mate, here"
The giant handed Connor a small carboard box with the words "Big and Bulky" written in bold black letters and a gift card for $100 Food delivery service stapled to the top.
"Free of charge mate, put em on when you get home and I'm sure you'll be feelin like a freak in no time" The giant man winked.
Connor took the gift and continued to thank him multiple times trying to make up for the fool he'd made of himself just moments before. He got in his car and sank in his chair. He opened the box seeing a pair of briefs, he couldn't exactly try them on in his car, he thought it'd be better to just come back with some feedback tomorrow.
----------------
Connor stepped out of the shower and dried himself off, he began his normal flexing routine in his mirror but thoughts about being staying lean and small invaded his mind fairly quickly. He contemplated if staying natural was worth it if it meant he'll never get his dream body. Pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind Connor slipped on the briefs he was gifted earlier and......they felt like normal briefs. He couldn't work out how these were made special for athletes but at least he got a food gift card out of it.
Connor picked up his phone going to take a photo whilst he looked good in the light when suddenly a golden light began to shine off the waist band of the briefs. It was like sunlight was coming out of the fabric itself. He saw the letters B....I.....G slowly appear and he watched in the mirror as his body began to swell. His shoulders broadened, chest expanded with every breath, his arms began to swell up and soon his pecs and arms were competing for space. His thighs became tree trunks and he had to readjust his package so it didn't get crushed between them, even his feet began to grow outwards. Soon it all slowed down and all Connor could do was stare at himself in amazement.
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Somehow, by literally magic he had swollen up into the size of his dreams. he couldn't help but start flexing and even licking his own bicep. A small noise, like a shop bell interrupted his self worship as a tiny slip of paper was ejected from the top of the box. Connor picked it up...
"Thank you for choosing Djinn.co transformative clothing, the transformative clothes you have chosen will permanently change your body, no need to workout to stay in shape never loose muscle keep the body of your dreams... NOTE: Your attendant for the day was Big Guy Bob he has added extra command words to your transformative clothing, we here at Djinn.co only print two command words on our clothing however your interaction with Bob had him convinced you deserved more"
Connor was amazed, surely this was a dream, there was no way he had stumbled into a pair of magic transforming clothes. As Connor was caught up in this thoughts light began to shine out of the other side of the waist band, the Connor felt his body start to get bigger. A part of him thought he should take the underwear off but he wanted to get bigger, he wanted to be a giant like the guy he met today. Another light began to shine from begin but Connor couldn't see. He flexxed in the mirror looking at the letters B...U....L....K....Y appear on the waist band. He flexed as hard as he could expecting to see his muscles to double in size again.
Connor's muscles became slightly large but nothing really changed. He dropped his arms to his side hearing his stomach make a slight gargling noise.
"awww, is that it, nothing even hap-"
*FWOOOMP
Connor almost fell forward as suddenly his six pack expanded into a loose gut. Hair quickly coated his entire body and he started sweating worse than he normally would at the gym.
"WHA...M...MY ABS...MY SIX PACK WHAT THE FUCK"
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Connor rubbed his new tummy on the verge of tears.
"oh god...what the fuck do I do with this thing"
His stomach let out a loud hungry growl as if almost to respond to him.
He picked up his phone and used the gift card to order some food, as if on auto pilot he spent the entire $100 instantly and even dropped another $100 from his own bank account on food.
Connor just stood in the mirror staring at his new belly disgusted. He had all the muscle he had dreamed of but felt his gut, pecs and ass wobble as he flexed. Soon the doorbell rang and Connor went to go grab his bags of food.
Bringing the bags in from inside and placing them on his kitchen bench his hands instantly dove in grabbed a handful of fries out the box without even taking the box from the bag, without realising he had stuff half the box of fries in his mouth, salt fell from his lips into his new forest of chest hair and he simply wiped his salt covered hand on his brief whilst opening a bottle of off the shelf protein shake. He began chugging it down and could feel little bits slips from his lips and into his new beard. Connor picked up all the bags and moved to his couch.
Connor blinked awake as if from a trance, all around him were empty plasic bottles from protein shakes and soft drinks, multiple empty fry boxes littered the look around him and he noticed his chest hair was tangled with salt, some burger lettuce and dried protein shake, his briefs were also covered in stain from where he had wiped his hands. He slid his briefs off noticing 3 words painted on the ass he didn't notice appear. "SWEATY, HAIRY, SLOB". Connor rubbed his new gut and tossed the briefs to the side.
His stomach began to gurgle and it sounded like a water cooler. He watched as his loose gut started to become firm.
"oh...god...whats happeneing now"
each time Connor inhaled his stomach felt worse
"I....god what the fuck"
A small ding noise interrupted Conners panting and panicing as another small slip of paper magically was printed out of the top of a closed chip box. Conner leant forward and read it.
"Hey man, Big Guy Bob here, today you expressed wanting to become a natural tank, so I made sure you got a pair to turn you into an absolute unit but I know you were worried about people thinking you might be on roids, just look at today you were so quick to think I was on them, so I added some key words to not only turn you into a huge tank but to turn you into a huge slob, enjoy the size bro"
Connor groaned as he tossed the note to the ground.
"FUUUUUUUCKKK IM SO.......BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPP"
the pain subsided and his stomach went soft again. Connor stared at his enormous body in the reflection of the black glass of his TV.
"mm...mmaybe i can cut?" Conner said aloud, completely unaware of the cupcake he was stuffing into his mouth as he spoke...
-----------------------------------
I hope everyone who wanted me to write a weight gain story is happy with this one, this is probably as far as Ill every go with this kinda stuff but yall voted on it and I was happy to write it.
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misshugs · 19 days
Text
₃The Cameragirl³ || snc
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After a cheeky reply you might've regretted, you end up dragged into the office to have a little... talk.
contains: SMUT +18, oral (both ways), unprotected sex, cursing, pet names, alcohol consumption, no mention of Y/n
a/n: you asked, i delivered.
[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]
word count: 3k
[u n e d i t e d]
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
You thought about how lucky it was for the room to be soundproof, glad that nobody will hear your screams. Although... it would be quite pleasant to let everyone know how they please you, how they touch you like nobody else.
The way you know only them could do it.
You didnt expect this to be the way you'd be doing your cardio, but it seemed destiny had some other plans.
[hours before]
You were basically shaking as they took you back onto the office, the thought of them asking about your stupid comments instead of going with the flow like they always did.
It was too obvious to be jokingly flirting this time, and they noticed.
And you were scared shitless.
You didn't know if they would genuinely go ahead with it or maybe let you know they're not interested, which made your stomach growl in response to your anxiety.
Well, to your hunger as well. You haven't eaten anything since yesterday.
They just got to sit you down on the table before listening to your poor stomach. They laughed.
"Right. You just woke up." Sam said as you shamelessly nodded your head out of embarrassment. "Then let us eat before talking it out. Wouldn't like for you to pass out on us."
"Come on, then." Colby continued, extending an arm to you, which you cheekishly ignored and stood up from the table wilst puffing your cheeks out. "Giving me an attitude? Yikes." He laughed.
"Didn't even help me out when I was stuck in Sam's arms? Yikes." You replied, walking out of the room. You could hear their chuckles before walking down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Heating yourself something to eat, they reluctantly got closer and sighed. "Hey, uh... we need to leave right now. There's this person we have to meet for another haunted place and this is the only time they have available. We completely forgot." Colby explained to you, looking back at his phone, guessing it was the message he received.
"Oh, okay. I'll be here, then." You said, giving him a side look before continuing making your food.
"You don't wanna come with us?" Sam asked.
"I wanna eat?"
"Right, right... well, we'll talk later, then. Don't think you're still safe." Sam smiled at you before walking away with Colby.
You rolled your eyes jokingly, but when they left, you let out a big sigh you've been restraining.
You were safe, for now at least. While thinking of a way to try and avoid the topic all together, you got a message. It was a mutual friend of yours, asking you to come to a party.
Quickly agreeing at the false sense of hope you received, she told you that the boys were also invited. She also agreed upon picking you up beforehand, since you weren't really going to do anything anyways so being early and prepping everything up was also a nice way to keep your mind out of the gutter.
After eating, you basically had the whole day for yourself, so you might as well prepare yourself earlier.
Thinking about them, you thought cautiosly about what to wear.
And honestly?
You felt like you needed to push their buttons a little bit more tonight. Yeah, whatever happened a few minutes ago made you a blushing mess, but at the same time, boy... the adrenaline you got from it sure was fun.
Then again, you guys weren't exactly together... so what's wrong with wearing something a bit more... revealing?
And so, it was decided. Searching throughout your closet, you found a short dress that fit your criteria for the night. With a slit through the back that went down to heaven and short slits on the side, making your thighs almost pop out.
It wasn't something you usually wore. Heck, you forgot you had it for all you remembered, but it looked so good in your skin that you just had to use it.
A couple of hours passed by and you were already at the party, getting things ready before some people started coming through. It didn't take long before the place began crowding with people.
The host, your friend, has been under the influence even before it all began. You were starting to get a bit tipsy yourself, getting loose at the dance floor whenever a good song started playing.
"Hey, quick question." Your friend yelled at you. "Where's Sam and Colby? They said they were busy and didn't know if they were gonna come." She explained. Looking at her with confusion, you then remembered.
"Oh! They're talking to someone for their next investigation, that's why." Unbeknownst to you, you were merely half right. Yes, they were talking with someone about their next location, but they also denied due to other reasons involving you.
Thinking about it, you believed they weren't going to arrive at the party, therefore, you were somewhat down at the thought. You wanted to tease them tonight, but it seems that your plan wasn't going to happen.
It didn't step you away from having fun, though. Drinking, dancing, talking with friends... it was a good time. That is, until a random dude you've never seen in your life started approaching.
Disinterest in your eyes was visible, but the guy seemingly ignored it completely and kept making the cringiest remarks you've heard in your life.
He tried to get closer to you, reaching out to your waist before you could try and run away.
Your heart racing at a thousand per hour, his hands were rough, almost certain that there might leave a mark on your fragile skin.
"Won'tcha come with me tonight, 'lil mama?" He smirked, holding you tight and close to him, making you almost puke.
"Get the fuck away from me!" You tried to scream, tried to push him away but to no use. You were still weak from your recent investigation after all.
"Now, come on. Don't do this to me, honey." Holding your chin on place, he made you look at him. "I can make you feel really g-"
"Back off dude, she's taken." You heard a familiar voice before finally setting free from his grasp. Colby was the first one you saw, taking off the guys arms from you.
Another set of hands held you softly by the waist, pulling you closer, away from him. Sam. You looked up at his face, he seemed mad.
He looked at you, now worry in his blue eyes. "You alright?" He asked softly in your ear, holding one of your hands to try and comfort you. You nodded quickly, glad that you've been saved once again.
Looking back at the guy, Colby was pushing him away. A determined stare down from his side, making the guy that was trying to gain your attention chuckle.
"Where were you, huh? When she was having fun all alone in the middle of the room? You're just tryna pull her off as well. You dipshits are nobody." He snarled back at Colby, annoyance in both their faces.
"We're not gonna let shits like you touch our girl, understand?"
You could barely hear what they were saying due to the loud music from every side, but you surely heard that last part.
Their girl? What did that even mean?
A visible smirk on Colby's lips when he turned around to look at Sam. You didn't think the next set of actions were the respond to this childish kids play, but you could feel Sam's soft hands on your chin, making you look at him and his lips interlocked with yours in an instant.
Oh fuck.
Oh fuck, what was happening?
Was there a faucet running? Cause boy you were dripping wet. These men were driving you crazy.
You caught a glimpse of the now pissed guy walking off before Sam could pull away. When he eventually did, you looked at his smiling face for a second before reality hit you like a truck.
Your face flushed with a red tint on your cheeks. Looking back at Colby who was walking closer towards you, both of them now towering over you.
"I-I thought you guys weren't gonna make it?" You asked, genuinely confused now that you remembered your friend vividly explaining they were busy.
"We weren't, but our plans for the night switched places." Colby smirked at you, making Sam laugh at the remark, even more with your confused face.
You didn't understood at the time, but their plans were supposed to be you. "We finished earlier than expected, but then when we got home you weren't there." Sam explained. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Well, she told me to come here early to help her out, so..."
"Ah, so you've been here for longer?" Colby asked, putting his hand on the slit on your back. "I guess I can't blame the guy, such a revealing outfit for so many hours..." He continued, slowly caressing your back with his hand, moving his hand down your bare skin. "I don't think I'd be able to hold it on a minute longer if I were him."
Shivers went throughout your whole body after listening to his words. "So if you didn't know we were coming, did you put this on for everyone else to see?" Sam asked, looking at you in the eyes. "I'm a bit jealous."
Your lip was quivering. The plan was to flirt back and tease them if they eventually came, but right now, you were speechless. The touch of their hands making your legs weak and shaky. A sudden hand up the side slit of your dress from Sam caught you slightly off guard, caressing your hip softly.
"Showing this much skin... Is this dress yours? Why have we never seen it before?" He asked.
"I don't.. I-I don't use it often." You managed to reply before panting at the constant feeling of getting touched by them. The adrenaline of someone possibly seeing what they were up to with you was nerve racking.
"We'll make you use it more often then, but only for us." Colby whispered, holding your ass and making you let out a soft moan. "We might as well have to find another place to chat more comfortably, what do you think, Sam?" He asked and Sam nodded.
Holding your hand tighter, he started walking away from the croud and into a random room from your friend's house. Closing the door, they noticed the music was barely heard. "Soundproof?" Sam asked.
"Seems like it."
"Most her rooms are..." You explained, making them look at eachother with a smirk before looking back at you.
"Good. You won't have to worry about screaming our names too loudly tonight then." Sam said.
"W-wha-" You could barely manage to say before Colby lifted you up and walked you to the bed.
Sitting you down, you looked up at them towering over you again.
"You're not escaping us tonight. You know that, right?" Colby began, crossing his arms.
"We're gonna have that... talk. Right now if we need to." Sam said, making you gulp.
"Can the talk be a bit more... dynamic?" You opened your legs slightly, which made them smirk.
"It was going to be from the start, sweetheart." Colby said with a deep tone, putting his hand on the insides of your thighs, quickly getting his hand closer to your heat. You sighed when you felt it, Sam fixing your hair behind your ear before getting closer to your face for another kiss.
While you kissed back, your legs closed a bit by instinct when you felt him playing with your clit through the fabric of your panties. "She's so wet, Sam." He informed, making Sam chuckle in the middle of the kiss, pushing his tongue deeper inside when you opened your mouth.
They made you lie down on the bed while your heated make out session with Sam didn't give you a second to even breathe. You moaned slightly when you felt your legs being pushed apart.
Sam slowly pulled down your dress, leaving your boobs out in the open, he separated from your lips and sighed. "No bra or anything, it almost seems like she was expecting us to fuck her." He said, pulling back only to see your whole view. "Fuck." He whispered.
Colby took off your damped panties and threw them to the floor, pushing up the skirt of your dress to have a clear view of your pussy.
You could see him licking and biting his lips while admiring the view. While sam went back to your soft, tasty lips, he began kneeding one of your breasts, playing with your nipple. You whined at the feeling, your heart racing at the touch.
Not a minute later, you could feel your legs being slightly lifted and a tongue licking your pussy, making you moan in between the kiss, letting Sam's tongue slip back in once again.
Shaking, you could feel Colby's tongue making circles around your clit, sucking at it, eating you up, making you arch your back at the feeling.
Sam separated from your lips and started giving you wet kisses around your face, slowly descending through your neck and onto your boobs, nibbling at your skin before making its way towars your nipple.
Sucking at it, you moaned softly and held onto his hair for support, while Colby kept on sucking and pushing his tongue inside of you, exploring every inch he's able to.
While Sam started sucking and licking one of your nipples, he made sure you were kept entertained. Putting two of his fingers inside your mouth for you to lick, you began sucking on them while drowning the moans in between.
From all of the stimulation, it didn't take long for you to cum all over Colby's face. He cleaned you up with his tongue, making sure to look at your erotic expressions whilst having Sam's fingers in your mouth, drooling all over them.
They both separated from you. You were filled with a sense of loss for a moment, but nothing that was going to stay for long. Sam sat behind you, making sure you lied your back on his chest while holding one of your breasts and opening up your legs.
Colby, enjoying the view, waited patiently for his friend to make you feel good. "Let's make sure you can suck us up well, yeah?" Said Sam while slowly moving the hand he had in your mouth down to your pussy.
Opening your lips with his fingers, he teased for a moment before pushing inside of you, making you moan and pull back your head on his shoulder.
One finger, then two, then three.
He stretched you up good while Colby was busy taking off his pants and looking at everything his eyes could manage from the view.
"Make sure Colby can see your pretty face." Sam whispered, thrusting quickly with his fingers. You could feel his bulge quickly rising behind you, poking your back.
You did as told, looking at Colby in the eyes while moaning and whining, your legs shaking at the feeling of being stretched out. "Colby... fuck. I need you."
"What do you need, baby?" He asked seductively, putting out his dick while you moaned at Sam's teeth biting onto your skin.
"You.. your dick... please." You whined.
"You want him to also make you feel good?" Sam asked while squishing one of your boobs and you nodded rapidly.
"Yeah. Yeah, please. Oh, fuck. Please." Pleading in such an erotic way, they couldn't just say no. Sam's fingers left you right before you were on the edge of yet another orgasm, but it didn't take long for something even better to take its place.
Colby's tip was slowly pushing in, making sure to not hurt you. You opened your mouth, taking out your tongue as the feeling was euphoric. He got closer and sucked on it before kissing you.
When he was completely inside, he began thrusting slowly but surely. Quickly speeding up when he felt you were already getting used to his length.
Moaning his name out, you looked back at Sam and whined for him as well, touching his erection from behind you, making him grunt. "Sam. Take... take it out." You panted in between moans.
And he did as told, quickly pulling out his dick while getting on his knees so that you could quickly hold it and put it inside your hot, wet mouth. "Oh, fuck." He let out when he felt your tongue up his friend.
You were quick to put it inside your mouth, bobbing your head up and down while getting railed up by Colby. The vibration of your moans sent shivers down Sam's spine. Holding your head up for support, he began thrusting inside your mouth as well.
It was a dream come true, you were on cloud 9, almost fainting at the pleasure you were receiving from both ends.
You didn't take long to cum, neither did them. After all, those teasing were killing them as well, they were just trying to hold it long enough for you to release yourself first.
You gulped down Sam's juices before pulling out, panting when he did. You were beat. If you barely had any strength before due to the recent investigation, now you were sure of it.
They made sure to clean you up before fixing your dress, giving you kisses all over your body, looking at the now visible hickeys all over your skin. "Gotta let people know you're taken. We can't have what happened before again." Colby whispered in your ear before kissing your cheek.
Breathing heavily, you nodded at them, not even entirely sure what you were agreeing upon.
"Well, that was a nice chat, was it not?" Sam said, smiling at your wobbly self.
"It really was, glad we could clear things up, right?" Colby continued. "I mean, I'm guessing you understand what we meant, right?"
You looked at him, getting your breath back together, smiling. "That you're my boys?" You asked, "Or maybe you have to explain it all over again, maybe I didn't understand what you meant."
They looked at eachother, smirking. "Then let us explain it again."
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
"come over here and kiss me on my hot mouth, i'm feelin' romantical."
thank you so much for reading <3 //also last part isn't a cliffhanger, we all know they went for round two, the end
smol taglist from those that wanted pt 3 *(sorry if you didn't want to be tagged): @oh-prettylady @lemonnightmare @honey-bees-13 @jupiter1700
~nikkõ
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itsharleystuff · 9 months
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↳ I. 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘓𝘋 𝘊𝘓𝘈𝘚𝘚 𝘚𝘐𝘕𝘕𝘌𝘙
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Gif not mine! | Read part two here.
— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dbf!Joel Miller x afab!fem reader (no outbreak au)
— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.4k
— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After two years of absence and finally graduating college, it’s time you go back to Texas; to come home with your dad. But the prospect of facing the Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend and your secret crush, has your mind scattered.
— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), smoking, alcohol consumption, age gap (reader is twenty four, Joel is late forties), oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, spitting, mentions of masturbation, pet-names (sweetheart, darling), moral conflict, semi-public sex, slight dirty talk, pussy-drunk Joel, no use of y/n. I think that’s it, let me know if I missed something:)
— a/n: I honestly have tons of ideas for this particular universe, so I might make more parts if y’all like it<3 btw, reader is a fashion designer in this. Thought it might be important to mention, lol.
✎﹏﹏﹏﹏
You had never met him before. Not in person, at the very least.
Up until a while ago, you'd only seen him in the pictures your dad kept hanging around the house. And he had plenty of those: both of them in college, a road-trip with other friends or even after a hunt. Of course, you'd heard a lot about him too, but whenever you visited Texas your dad would dedicate his whole days to you exclusively. No time to visit his best friend-slash-neighbor, despite all the opportunities presented.
So the first time you ever saw him face to face was two years ago, in a Fourth of July barbecue he hosted.
Joel Miller.
Joel mother-fucking Miller.
Tall, broad, rugged looking, moody and with a seemingly stern exterior. An absolute dilf.
You always found him rather appealing— nothing but a silly little thought from whenever you would stare at the photographs. But meeting him personally was a whole eye-opening experience, like getting glasses after discovering you’ve had astigmatism your entire life.
"He liked you, y'know?" your dad had told you the next day. "Joel isn't usually that nice."
"Maybe it's because I'm your daughter," you joked. "I bet that helped with my impression."
"No," said him, laughing and shaking his head, "it was something else."
You didn't interrogate him on the matter. Whatever it was, you sure were glad to be in his grace.
That summer you saw a lot of him— specially since it was the longest you had spent in Austin ever since your mom passed away. You were twenty two at the time, right in the middle of your college studies. But the amazing thing about Joel was that he never made you feel patronized, neither did he treat you like you had to fit in the 'best friend's daughter' box. He was nice and made you feel comfortable in all ways possible.
Frankly, deep down you wanted him to be an asshole. If that were the case, you could've had the perfect excuse to push him away. Instead, your crush simply grew stronger.
Because, fucking hell, the man was hot in a striking, yet brooding manner. Joel Miller was attractive in the way a man is supposed to be attractive. Which was quite a contrast compared to the boys that usually neared you, who had no sense of themselves and were always fooling around with no idea what they were doing.
It was so bad that even now, after two years without seeing him —or your dad, for that matter— you feel anxious and eager at the thought of a reunion.
You're now officially graduated, and after a lifetime of traveling the states to visit both your parents, added to four years of college in New York, it's finally time to settle down for a while. To move in with your dad and make up for the lost time.
"Are you really going to stay in Texas?" Sophie, your best friend, asked through the phone speaker. "After all these years in the big city?"
"Yeah, I ought to stay with him. After all, we're the only family we've got," you replied, staring out the window of the cab. "When I told him I was coming he got so excited, you should've heard him. He said he'd throw me a homecoming party, can you believe that? Who's even going to attend?"
You hear her giggle on the other side. "What about that Mr. Miller you always brag so much about?"
"What about him?" you wondered with half strained voice.
"Oh, don't play coy, honey," she mocks. "We both know how much you want him to give you a sweet old Texan welcome."
"I have no idea what that is," you respond, smiling.
"I just made it up. No idea what they do in the south. I'm from Brooklyn." Of course she made it up. "But I meant it's pretty obvious how much you want his head between your legs..."
"Okay, yeah- I get it." You interrupt, starting to see familiar houses from your dad's neighborhood. "You're right. But he's... Righteous. Apparently."
"Sweetie, let's be honest," Sophie talks softly, "no man is righteous. Just show them a bit of skin and they'll be wrapped around your finger forever."
"I'm not sure I-"
"Try it. And keep me updated," she mumbles hastily. "I've got to go now. I have an appointment with the Ralph Lauren executives in ten minutes."
"Treat them nicely, Sophie. Don't waste my recommendation letter," the girl laughs.
"Yeah, yeah... I'm serious about Miller, though. Be sure to wear something low-cut. Bye, bye!"
She hangs up right when you're outside the house; the one you knew so well and at the same time felt so unknown. The one where you spend each summer and occasional holiday in. Your childhood home. Oddly enough, the door is open but you can't see your dad anywhere near. You hoped he'd be around to help you with the luggage, though it didn't seem like it.
"Dad?" You call for him from the entrance, carrying both heavy suitcases. "Anyone here?!"
The faint noise of footsteps is barely audible before you see him leaning against the kitchen door, arms crossed over his sturdy chest.
Breathtaking.
"M'not your old man but pretty sure I can help you with that," he says with that characteristic Texan drawl of his, gesturing towards your cases.
"But if it isn't Joel Miller in the flesh," he tilts his head with a faint smile, approaching your side. "You haven't aged a day since I last saw you."
It was true. Perhaps his skin looked a bit more tan, his hair somewhat longer and curlier, his beard starting to gray. But everything else remained the same. He smelled just like you remembered —fresh soap and musky cologne—, and still held onto the same mode choices: flannels, boots and dark jeans.
"Quite the opposite to ya," he says, taking both your suitcases from your hands. "I like your new hair."
"Are you implying I look old?" Joel grins smudgily.
"None of that, darlin'. I'd say mature." His words manage to make your pulse raise. "Shall I take this upstairs?"
"Yeah, I- I'll walk you to my room," he chuckles as he steps on the stairs. "What?"
The man shakes his head as he makes his way to the second floor, followed closely by you. Nothing about this house seemed different. Nevertheless, you felt different.
"Nothing. S'just..." he takes a deep breath, but changes the subject quickly. "Your dad went to the store to get some beers. He'll be back any second."
You nod, opening the door to your dorm. It was exactly the same as it was two years ago, simply tidier and with a poster that read 'welcome home and happy graduation' in messy, colorful handwriting over your bed.
"He made that himself. Though, I've gotta say, I'm glad he didn't pursue an artistic career." You both laugh at the comment.
"A for effort." Joel sets your luggage next to the doorframe, being monitored by your keen eye. "Will I see you tonight? I know you're not a big fan of social gatherings."
"Your dad'll kill me if I'm not. He's got me here since ten o'clock to help him out." You look up at him, feeling vaguely nostalgic when watching your surroundings. "But I'm also hoping we'll catch up. I'd like to hear all about your adventures in the big city, aight?"
"Oh, I'm not sure you'd like that," you retort. "I'm afraid you'll see a side of me you might disapprove of."
Joel's brows shot up in a cocky expression. "And here we were all thinking you were such a nice girl. Forget 'bout me, sweetheart. Your old man would drop dead if he gets the news."
You can't hold back the smirk that spreads across your face as you look him dead in the eye. Truth be told, you had wished for him to change, in any sort of way. Maybe if he had gotten a couple more wrinkles or grey hairs you'd be able to not find him attractive anymore. But age suited Joel. Maybe if he stopped being so warm to you, so kind, it might be able to fade away.
'Righteous', you'd called him.
But he isn't so much. No man ever is.
In your last visit you weren't bold enough with him, but each time you'd say something slightly suspicious, every occasional brush or brief skin to skin contact during a shared moment, had an effect on him. He reacted to you, even if he thought you wouldn't know. Sure, he was well restrained and you probably wouldn't have noticed if you weren't actually looking for any signs. That didn’t change the facts, anyway.
"I've never really been much of a nice girl, to be honest," you retaliate, dragging the words. "But I bet you can keep a secret, can't you?"
Something in your voice causes him to unconsciously stop breathing. His brows knit together and it takes him a second to regain composure. However, he doesn't get to say a thing, your dad's voice suddenly floating from the floor beneath.
With your blood rushing, you practically flee downstairs, seeing his face change completely at the sight of his beloved daughter.
"You're here early, what the heck?" The man mumbles with a kindhearted smile, embracing you in a tight hug.
"Figured I might surprise you." The boxes of beer he bought were quickly discarded when he saw you. "So, are you surprised?"
"Very. But I was supposed to pick you up at the airport. Did you take a cab?"
"Don't worry about that," you reassure with a gesture. "It was included in the airport bill."
"Oh, man..." your dad turns to see his friend, "you leavin' already?"
"I have to pick up Sarah," he explains, peeking at his watch. "She had soccer practice today."
"Can I expect to see her later, too?"
Joel nods at your question, faintly beaming. "F'course. She loves you."
⩇⩇:⩇⩇✧˖°
Shortly after Miller's departure your dad sent you off to bed, arguing that you were probably tired. And even if you wanted to stay and chat with him for a while, you had to admit he wasn't mistaken. Either way, you still had the rest of the day —and plenty more ahead— to do that. Besides, he still needed to sort some things out before the party.
So, without unpacking or undoing your bed, you slept for hours, dreaming about how your new life was going to be.
(...)
When you finally woke up, night had already fallen. Your dad mustn't have wanted to wake you, but it made you feel in a rush to get ready. You took a cold shower and kept your makeup neutral in order to be quick. Furthermore, Sophie's advice to wear something low-cut was taken under consideration.
Judging by the noise coming from the backyard, you guessed the guests had already started to arrive. You heard talking and music, aside from smelling the hamburgers your dad was preparing. There were kids running around and a couple of people chatting in the living room when you entered, setting all eyes on you.
You knew most of them, neighbors and friends of your dad's. They immediately monopolized your attention, asking questions regarding your career life, reasons why you chose your major and saying how much your dad loved and missed you. It wasn't bad, you liked the courtesy and praise; nonetheless, in the back of your mind you were solely expecting the Millers' arrival.
After a while, you excuse yourself and decide to join your dad outside, stepping onto the fresh air.
"How's everything here?" you ask friendly. "Need any help?"
He was surrounded by some other of his pals, all of whom you'd met in your last visit, except for one– still, you couldn't help but think that he had a familiar air.
"We're alright, honey." You greet them all with a smile as your dad hooks an arm over your shoulders, offering a beer that you decided to decline.
"My niece was right," said the man you didn't know. "You're quite beautiful." He spoke subtly and on the right lines, giving you a affectionate smile. 
"Ah- I don't believe you've met Tommy," your dad chimed in. "He's Joel's younger brother."
"Oh, yeah..." you remembered, "he mentioned you last time I came. It's nice to finally meet you."
Now that you saw him up-close, he did resemble his brother in a certain way. There was something very emblematic that all the Millers had, a sparkle in their eyes that you picked-up on Sarah, but that enchanted you in—
"Speak of the devil..." your head jerked to the side, watching as your most expected guests come to join you.
"My goodness!" you speak in surprise, sharing a hug with Joel's daughter. "You've grown so much in the last two years... You're even taller than me now and I'm wearing heels." The girl giggles, charming as always. "Didn't you just turn seventeen?"
"A month ago," she answers. "But let's not talk about that, it makes dad feel old."
"Joel?" You look behind her, locking glances with him. "But he's in his prime!" he rolls his eyes sardonically.
"Come on, sunshine," Tommy says, "you know it's not polite to make fun of the elderly."
They laugh and you can vaguely hear your dad scolding him, but don't really pay attention to it as they go back to their conversation. In the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of his smile.
He looked handsome. To you, he always did. Tonight, however, he decided to change the flannels for an olive button up shirt and a black leather jacket. His curls seemed carefully styled and he smelled of sandalwood.
"By the way," you address Sarah, "I brought you something from New York. It's one of my designs..."
"Seriously?" Her whole face lit up at your words. "You know how much I love your work!"
"Yeah, thought you might like it. But I'll give it tomorrow. I haven't unpacked and my things are real a mess."
"That reminds me." The girl turns to Joel. "Did you bring it?" he nods and takes a small box from the pocket of his jacket, handing it to her.
"What's that?" you question out of curiosity.
"I got you a lil' present," Sarah answered.
"You, did what?" Joel countered with a reproachful tone.
"I mean- I chose a present..." the man clears his throat and she rolls her eyes. "We chose a present, which he payed for. Buuut, it was my idea so-"
His dad snorts and shakes his head, turning to chat with the rest of the men. The younger one drags you away to have some privacy, taking a solitary spot under the big apple tree. During your conversation, you discuss the details of your so called 'highlife' and open the tiny box they gifted, finding a shiny ring sitting on the bottom.
"Do you like it?" You grin and nod in response, deciding to put it on in that same instant. "Dad noticed you like wearing lots of rings.”
Joel noticed.
"I love it," you remark. "Thank you. Both."
Your eyes drift to the crowd gathered around the grill, men laughing and sharing beers. The surprising part was that when you finally found your target, he was already staring at you. If he was expecting you to notice or not, there was no sign. But the older one held your lingering glance and everything else seemed to fade away, suddenly becoming white noise in the background. There was a challenging fire behind his brown orbs, kind of like he was saying 'I know what you're doing and I can do it too'.
"So," you turn back to Sarah with a strange, thrilling sensation in the pit of your stomach, "what's up with you? How's high school?"
"Boring. You know the drill."
"And the boys?" she almost looks flustered at the question.
"Complicated. Bet you know all ‘bout that." Your brows furrow slightly.
"What gave you that idea?"
"Just an impression," her fingers fidget nervously.
You shrug, deciding to change the subject. "You're graduating soon... Have you decided on any universities yet?"
"Not quite," she sighs. "I'm worried about my dad, really. I don't want him to feel alone if I move out."
A sly smile parts your lips. "He won't be. There's my dad, your uncle and... Me. I'll make him a Tinder profile. He'll be fine."
Sarah chuckles and shakes her head. "He talks about you, y'know?"
"What, Joel?" you ask in a sarcastic tone, cocking an eyebrow at her. "Hard to believe."
"It's true! I think he admires you, in a way..."
With a hand gesture, you stop her. "Are we talking about the same man here?"
"Ask him. He might deny it, but it's often your name is brought up in conversations," she unfolds. "When you got that internship in Ralph Lauren, the articles you've written, magazines you've appeared in..."
"It sounds extremely rare for someone like your dad would be interested in the fashion industry. Even if it's just for me, cause I'm certain my own dad is the one forcing all this information onto him."
"Maybe," Sarah agrees. "Whatever it may be, I'm sure he'll be alright if you're around. At least happy, I think."
⩇⩇:⩇⩇✧˖°
The kitchen was a good shelter from all the gossip and noisy kids that turned out to be overwhelming after some time. No one came in there unless they needed to; and as of now they all seemed more concerned with other sorts of business. Besides, it was pretty late and most people had already headed home.
A bottle of wine was opened and poured into a glass, accompanied by a Marlboro cigarette from the depths of your purse, enjoying them while watching the night sky through the window. All your mind could think about was him and his odd behavior: Joel picking up on details, Joel talking about you with Sarah. Him. Just him.
"Am I interrupting somethin'?" you shake your head without looking back, recognizing his voice.
He walks over to you silently. The man is somehow very silent for someone so big, to the point where you didn't even listen when he opened the door. He leans against the counter, his body so close to yours that you can feel his warmth even if you're not seeing him.
"Want some?" you ask, raising your half-empty glass of red liquid and whipping your body to face him, standing shoulder to shoulder, closing the curtain in the meantime.
"Thanks," he mutters, showing his can of beer, “m'not that fancy." You titter, taking a short drag from the dart. "I'll have one of those, if you can spare."
With the fag between your teeth, you take the pack of smokes from your bag and hand it to him, shooting an inquiry expression.
"What?" he asks with an arrogant beam.
"Nothing..." your voice comes out weird from holding back laughter as you take the lighter in your fist. "I just didn't know you smoked."
He takes one to his lips, keeping close eye contact with you all the while. The action sends a rush of excitement throughout your whole body as you duck forward to burn the unlit end, staring back at him with hooded eyes.
"I rarely do," he admits, setting the package aside.
If he wasn't hot enough already, the practiced mannerisms he had when smoking simply added to his sultriness.
"Why you hiding?" you wonder, ashing the cigarette over the sink.
"Not hidin'. Just sent Sarah home, but I wanted to catch you before leavin'."
It didn't surprise you, they lived across the street and, after all, he did say he wanted to talk.
"Did I mention how handsome you look today?" He sneers shortly.
"Well, my daughter was very clear 'bout not wanting me to wear flannels around a fashion designer." Joel takes a sip from his drink, holding the cig between his fingers.
"She gives me too much credit," you say, a bit embarrassed.
"You deserve it," the man replies grimly. "And you look absolutely beautiful, too. One of yours?"
His eyes briefly set on your chest, for such a short second that you actually believed you had probably imagined it. The dress you chose for the occasion was one of your first designs; pearl colored, cinched from the waist above and slightly loose over your thighs.
"Yes," you gulp, diverting your gaze to the glass on your hand. "So how's everything 'round here?" Joel shrugs his shoulders with indifference. 
"'S alright. Same as always," he meditates on it. "Boring without you to keep us entertained."
You utter a mocking snort. "Do my silly little experiences really entertain you?"
The older one tilts his head to blow some smoke. "You always talk so freely about your dreams and the goals you've accomplished. And your dad's enthusiasm is contagious, I might say." He licks his bottom lip, thinking. "I don't know... I'm glad someone close is doing all 'at. Feels like you ain't afraid of anything."
His words put a bright smile on your face. "Life's a risk, isn't it? Better be bold if you want to end up somewhere."
He huffs a laugh, nodding in agreement. A comfortable silence veils between you as you enjoy the alcohol and cigarettes. It was always nice to hang out with him like this.
"By the way, how are you holding up?" the question clasps his curiosity. "Parenting a teenager can be quite difficult, I've heard."
"Jesus," he grunts, "it's driving me insane. Not her per say, but the whole 'boy talk' 's just too much."
"I bet," you chortle, "although, I wouldn't worry too much. It's just a phase." 
"Yeah?" Joel scoffs. "You gon' tell me you ain't got tons of guys chasing around ya' anymore?"
"Oh, they're there," your tone matches his energy. "All these old ladies kept trying to introduce me to their sons a couple hours ago. Nevertheless, I gotta say..." He leaves the empty can on the bar across him. "Boys make me sick."
His eyes widen in surprise, but the rest of his face remained in composure. "How so?"
The atmosphere swiftly changes, a kind of heated tension rising to the top, palpable in your fingertips and waving in his chest.
"I've had my fair share of them," you explain playfully. "Guys my age never know what they want or what they're doing. I've decided to change my focus to men, instead."
He knows what you're up to. You can tell he does.
The question is: will he take the bait?
"Meaning?" Joel's lips curve around the orange filter in a smug smirk. You jerk your head to the right, setting the glass of wine aside.
"I'm not sure..." he laughs dryly at your hesitation.
"I think you are, sweetheart."
The abiding silence that followed that statement was nothing but electrifying. Clouds of burning tobacco linger around as you share an intense gaze, creating a solemn, intriguing ambience.
"Well, how am I supposed to tell you, out of all people, that I'm looking to get attended by an older man?" you rag. "Don't you think it's inappropriate?"
"Mhm," his grin is still visible under the dim, warm lights in the kitchen, "clever girl. I see what you're tryin' to do."
"I don't know what you mean," you murmur, scowling and intending to sound clueless.
He doesn't buy it.
"No-uh. You're many things, darlin', but dumb isn't one." He leans forward, his face barely inches away from yours, eyes scanning your features. Eventually, he decides to keep playing your little game. "Why's that, anyway?"
"See, Joel," you blow some smoke right under his nose, "boys I've been with always take. Everything's gotta be about themselves. I've never been the type to believe in relationships, but if they're gonna suck at that too, the least they could do is make you cum, not leave you drier than a fucking desert." Your words daze his mind and he finds himself pending for something that he wasn't supposed to. "Shit- I'm sorry... I shouldn't talk like this."
"Damn right you shouldn't," he rasps out, "what would your dad think if he heard you?"
Joel Miller never considered himself a weak man. Not once in his life. It's not who he is.
But right now, under your curious, passionate gape, he's slowly crumbling.
"Good thing you aren't my dad, then."
His heart is pounding in expectation and confusion. He keeps thinking 'this can't be happening'. He tries to convince himself that it's all in his mind, like he did last time you were in Austin. But you bat your pretty eyelashes at him an it feels like you're begging to be taken away.
"Sweetheart, I don't think you know what you're asking for," he talks strictly, like you wouldn't actually understand. "Say this things to the wrong person and they might take advantage of you."
You laugh under your breath. "Are you the wrong person?"
He remains silent for a couple seconds, contemplating your question, meditating this whole parade in order to keep his head cold and ignoring the increasing heat that soared all around.
"M'not sure," he huffs.
It's true. He doesn't know anymore.
Your cig has burned out.
"I think you are, Mr. Miller."
Oh, such a clever girl indeed.
Suspense is killing him, like he's walking on the edge of a blade. Your closeness is intoxicating, the smell of your perfume gets him dizzy and his skin burned there where your limbs brushed against each other's. His lungs felt like crushing under the weight of anticipation.
"Quit beating around the bush," he downright demands. "Tell me what you want."
Honesty is a virtue; one you didn't lack with him.
"You," his chest puffs with a shaky breath. "Ever since we first met, you've been the only man on my mind."
Dangerous. This whole situation is dangerous.
But Joel would be lying if he said he didn't feel the same. That was the worst part of it.
For little more than a decade he had been perfectly content with his singleness; the sole thought of going on a date being absolutely terrifying. His best friend did try to set him up with a couple of his female acquaintances multiple times; yet he declined or merely accepted out of sympathy, never taking things further than a one night stand. Joel never expected that the one woman that would grasp his attention would be you.
He had never been into younger girls, at least not that young. But there was something enchanting about you. Whether it was your charming smile, your cunning eyes or your confident, determined nature that made all heads turn in your direction when you walked into a place.
Something about you bewitched him.
Perhaps it was none of that and he was simply depraved. Perhaps it was all of that and more.
For all he knew, you could've put a spell on him. Since your last visit, you had been on his mind like a mist that fogged his senses. He felt torn apart by his morals and desires, trying his best to get rid of the ghost of you.
That was until your dad told him you were coming back to stay for an undefined amount of time. What kind of sick game was fate playing with him?
"You tryin' to get me killed?" he locks a snarl behind his teeth.
His cigarette has burned out too.
"I know I'm asking for much," you say, "that I put you in a difficult position. With my dad and all 'at." Swallowing hard, you muster enough courage to raise a hand to his jacket, just laying your palm flat there. He allows it. "So I understand if you say no. You can decline and we’ll just act like nothing happened."
If Joel were a better man, he would've.
He definitely should have.
"It's okay. I can always call the next older lad on my hotline," you joke. "Your brother Tommy... I think he'll be interested."
He'd be damned.
No. Joel was just a man, and like every other, he could only take so much.
Quicker than you'd expect, his hand catches your wrist and moves your arm away from his body, the other raising your head up with two fingers under your chin. His face is so close to yours that his breath tickles your skin.
"Is that so?" his voice drops an octave. "You disappoint me, sweetheart."
Your legs quiver, feeling suddenly weak on the knees and hot on your lower abdomen. "How?"
His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip, staring down at you as if he had you wrapped around his finger. Truth be told, he really did.
"Thought there was a bit more fight in ya'," he whispers, letting go of your hand and laying his palm flat on your hip. "I haven't yet given my answer and you're already thinking of fucking my brother?"
You lick your lips nervously, glancing at his own and then back at his eyes. Your breathing pattern is completely altered and the ache between your legs starts to grow.
"Or was that just to tease me?" he asks with a grin.
"I don't know..." your hands clench in fists, wanting to touch him but wallowing in this new power dynamic. "Maybe."
"That's rather vague, darling." He takes a step forward, eradicating the distance that separated your bodies. "I'll ask again..." his fingers curl around your throat, not applying pressure but merely holding you in place. "What do you want?"
It's too late to look back now. Though you wouldn't think of it. "I want you to fuck me, Joel."
Music to his ears.
He doesn't respond, eyes boring into yours intently. The unholy words that you spoke scatter his brain and all he wants to do is accept. But he wouldn't indulge so easily. If you wanted to play games, he'd teach you how to play better.
You tilt your head upwards, searching for his mouth with limited mobility. Your eyes briefly close at the feeling of your lips barely brushing against his own, waiting for him to kiss you. Except he does not, simply caressing the soft flesh teasingly.
Joel's body is flushed against yours, keeping you caged between the counter and him. The hand that rested on your hip gradually travels to your ass, splaying his fingers over your covered butt and giving a firm squeeze that makes you squeal. Every breath he takes is the very air you breathe. The proximity and his scent are slowly —but surely— making you lose your sanity.
"Such a pretty girl," he mutters hoarsely, "with such filthy thoughts." You look at him through heavy lids, gaining enough courage to move your hands to his broad chest. "What am I gonna do with you?"
"Please, just- kiss me." The plea is so desperate and pathetic that it doesn't even sound like you.
"Can't do," he says at last. "If you want to be treated like a slut, you'll get treated like one. Sluts don't get kissed." You feel yourself get wet with his attitude, trying to clench your thighs together in order to create some friction. "I can't give you what you want, sweetheart. Not tonight, at least."
His lips move to your jawline, tracing open-mouthed kisses along your bare neck and collarbones that have you panting in seconds, his facial hair scratching your skin deliciously before coming back up again.
"But don't worry, angel," he pours into the shell of your ear, "I'll make sure you cum, since you want it so bad."
"Fuck, Joel-" you stutter when he abruptly spins your body around, his growing bulge grinding against your lower back.
His face nuzzles on the crook of your neck as his hand roams over your thigh, leisurely making its way beneath your dress. You feel his teeth lightly scraping your flesh, the hardness of his crotch poking your ass and your own arousal pooling in your panties.
"Jesus..." he groans when his fingers reach the dampness between your legs. "I've barely touched you and you're already soaked."
"I meant it when-" your sentence gets muffled by a strangled moan that escapes your lips, "when I said I've been wanting you for so long."
His body vibrates with a laugh, ruffling your hair with his breath. He starts rubbing small circles on your clit, making your whole body shiver and squirm while he pushes the fabric aside, gathering your slick with his index and spreading it all the way back to your bud, repeating his actions until your arousal covered his knuckles.
"Wanna know a lil' secret?" his voice comes out soothing and husky as he eases two digits inside you, stretching you out in a way that makes both of you groan. "I felt the same."
His fingers are thicker, bigger and rougher than yours, adding to a new, unlocked satisfaction you had not yet experienced.
Joel took his time to explore the spots that provided more pleasure, that had your hips chasing him and biting your lip to refrain from making noise. His other hand gropes your breast, caressing your delicate nipple over the thin fabric, easily done due to the lack of a bra. He keeps altering his ministrations, collecting the wetness from your core and bringing it up to your bundle of nerves, prior to sliding into your cunt again. All that can be heard in the kitchen are the squelching, utterly pornographic sounds of your pussy and your pitiful whines, inaudible to everyone but him.
"You like this, sweetheart?" he hums, feeling your sticky arousal drip down your thighs, rejoicing in your responsiveness to him. "Being fingered by a man twice your age while your dad's just a few steps away?"
You squeeze his thick fingers, picturing just how big his cock must be just from the boner pressing your back. "Y-yes..."
He simply loves the way he's got you so needy, coming undone with so little. You were easy to please, so he wondered how awful your past lovers must've been if they couldn't get you wet. A primal instinct surges on Joel, wanting to erase all of them from your mind, as he wanted to be the only man you ever think about if you're having an orgasm.
"That's my girl," he coos, thrusting his fingers at a nice pace, curling them upwards to hit that soft spot that made your knees tremble.
You hold onto the counter for dear life, throwing your head back and laying it on his chest. He sighs every time your cunt tightens around his digits, mesmerized by your enticing cries and whimpers that had him painfully hard in his jeans. The sensation is overwhelming, adrenaline filling both of you at the prospect of getting caught.
A burning sensation builds on your lower belly, tiny beads of sweat rolling down your temple at the incoming crescendo. His thumb kneads over your clit with the right amount of pressure and your body gives in to him, all tension melting away as your muscles relax.
"Just like that, darling." His deep voice reverberates through you, holding you up by the grip on your waist. "Take what I give you."
"Joel, Joel, Joel-" he chuckles once again at your delirious state, biting down the sensitive skin on your neck as he helps you carry out your high.
He pulls his fingers out and you mewl in complaint, mouth slightly agape. You can't see his face but you watch as he takes both his sticky fingers to his mouth, your chest rising and falling while trying to regain composure. He licks them clean, savoring your sweet taste and feeling his cock twitch from the mere idea of his tongue exploring your folds, taking that same flavor straight from the source.
"I'm not done with you," he growls, swirling your body around.
He's fucked up now. He has found his own, favorite drug between your thighs and can’t seem to stop himself from getting it. He had a small taste and now craved for more like he was a famished man.
"Can I get a kiss now?" Joel finds your insistence amusing.
Those eyes of yours were driving him insane, staring at him wildly, sparkling with an etching desire. Your lips were plumped and glossy, cheeks flushed red and hands fisting his shirt. Seeing this side of you was like displaying one of his darkest fantasies, the kind that would randomly appear in his dreams and had him waking up guilty and needy.
"No," he grumbles, cupping your face in his hand and forcing you to glance up at him. "Open up."
You obligue without hesitation, parting your lips shamelessly— which further spurs him on—. Almost instinctively, you already know what he's going to do, catching that inquiring look in his darkened eyes. With a light tap to his chest, you give him the green light and he spits right into your mouth. You don't think about it twice; in fact, you can't even process what you're actually doing, unconsciously swallowing down while keeping eye contact.
"Good girl," he purrs, caressing the side of your face with gentle stokes of his thumb.
His voice and praise send you to oblivion, managing to give you goosebumps. But Joel won't allow you to catch a break, glueing his lips to the hollow of your throat and making his way down, down, down, until he's kneeling before you, feeling the way you tense and shake for him. He grips your body strongly, the pads of his thumbs dipping on your hipbones as he rests his forehead on your lower abdomen, taking a deep breath in. Your hands run through his curls, tenderly grazing his scalp with your nails. 
The man feels as if he's wasted; your scent, all around him, on him, intoxicating every fiber on his body. He'd be haunted by it, by you, in the upcoming days.
He reaches beneath the hem of your dress, fingers skating along the band of your panties and tugging them down at a tortuous pace, meanwhile his eyes pierce your soul. Joel lets the drenched underwear pool at your ankles and drags the thin, satiny fabric all the way up to your tummy, inhaling sharply at the sight of your sticky slick covering your inner thighs.
"Fuck..." he touches you like you're sacred, like he was granted permission to do so but couldn't fully believe it. "Jesus Christ, you're beautiful," he mumbles when he coaxes your legs apart.
You blush at the comment, growing partially embarrassed. A shadow of pure lust covers his gaze as he stares at your exposed, wet cunt. He basks in the view of your damp skin and swollen clit, feeling his mouth water and his pants strain.
"Joel-"
"Forgive me, darlin'. Been a while since I..." he clears his throat, trying to regain hold of himself, "since I went down on a woman."
Your fingers tangle on his locks and you give him a reassuring smile. "You don't have to-"
"But I want to," Joel blurts out. "I need to taste you, sweetheart. Would you allow me to?"
Did he even need to ask?
"Yes- god. Please..."
It's all he had to hear. He leaves small kisses on your swollen lips, taking pleasure in your silent gasps as his mouth inched closer to your clit. Your hips buck against his face when his tongue finally landed on that sensitive bundle of nerves, making you moan a bit louder.
"Fucking hell," you babble, gripping his hair tighter.
He groans, his tongue flattening above your delicate bud and sucking on it. Joel can see in your face how hard you're trying to refrain from making any noise, your brows slightly furrowed and mouth partially open as you throw your head back. His chest swells with pride, knowing he's the one making you feel this good.
Then you have to hold yourself up when he suddenly hooks one hand around your calf and lifts your leg, placing it over his shoulder to keep you open for him. His face buries between your thighs, tongue sliding across your wet folds and savoring your arousal mixed with your previous release. He uninhibitedly whimpers, lapping up the slick that kept pouring out of you, devouring your pussy like he had never had anything as good.
The man can't take it anymore, he's reached his limit. One of his hands snake down to fumble at his belt, as he sloppily palms his bulge through the briefs, trying to get some relief. He's drunk, feral, when he eats you out most earnestly, finding your weak spots rather quickly— the ones that made you shiver, that made you shut your eyes from sheer pleasure or grind against his face, but specially the ones that had you tugging harshly at his hair.
"Joel- please, I'm so close..." you cry out lowly, the only thing that kept you standing being his hand on your waist.
His beard makes your skin feel feverish and it's nearly impossible for you to hold back a whine when his nose grazes your clit and right in that instant you're coming hard, nerves buzzing and ears ringing. You feel lightheaded, white spots appearing in front of your eyes as the orgasm rips through you intensely. He drinks you down, licking you clean as if it was a crime not to, and you gasp at the overstimulation.
He helps you steady yourself as he gets back on his feet, hovering above you. His lips were shining with saliva and your own juices, dripping down to his chin. You breathe rapidly, pulse still racing while you look up at him with glassy eyes.
It's right in this moment when Joel knows for certain that he'd do it all again, consequences be damned.
If he was going to hell for what he'd done, then he would gladly do it, knowing that he had seen heaven the moment his tongue was inside you.
"Did I live up to your expectations, sweetheart?"
Instead of replying, your hand shoots to his jaw, the pad of your thumb brushing over his bottom lip. He lets out a shaky exhale and you don't miss the opportunity to finally lean in for a kiss. And despite his previous declines to your wish, Joel happily corresponded. You taste him and yourself when his mouth explores yours in depth, feeling his unsteady heartbeat against your own chest.
It's madness; a blur of wet, messy kisses as your hand coasts down his pants and underneath his briefs. You swallow down his lewd moans when you grasp his throbbing length, a deep groan coming from his throat when you circle the tip with one finger, coating it with his leaking precome. He takes your wrist to prevent you from going any further.
"Enough of that," he grunts, still not pushing your hand away. "I'm too worked up, I don't wanna be coming in my pants like a goddamned teenager."
You respect his decision, drawing your hand back and guiding your fingers to your lips with a cheeky smile. Fucking tease.
"I think it'd be hot," you murmur, dragging the words and leaning next to his ear. "Maybe afterwards I can help you clean up the mess..." you carefully nip at his earlobe, delighting in the way his body jumped and a sigh escaped him. "With my mou-"
"Fuuuck..." the mental image you were describing was not helping his situation. "We- we’ll do that next time.”
And before you can move a muscle, he gives you a soft forehead kiss and rearranges his pants, asking you to say goodbye to your dad in his behalf as he sneaked out. You stand there for a couple of minutes, dumbfounded and completely blown away from your post-orgasm bliss, still processing that all this had actually happened and it was not just another of your sexual fantasies and daydreams.
Joel was in a similar position. In spite of taking a cold shower and fucking his fist in the meantime, tonight's events kept being relived every time he closed his eyes, making him yearn for you all over again. It was a tough night of not much sleeping.
He thinks he might feel guilty in the morning.
Maybe he should. But he honestly doesn't.
Not even when he faces your dad the next day and he tells him how happy he is to have his darling daughter back home.
Nor do you. There's not a hint of guilt in your body when you go to his house in the next few days, solely to spend time with Sarah. No shame in the looks you share, regardless of the little to zero time you could spend together, always being surrounded by other people.
None of that mattered. All the while, the only question that roams your minds is: when will you do it again?
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kzpearce · 1 year
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A LOST KID CALLED YOUR BOYFRIEND “ DADDY ” !! (PART TWO)
ft. zhongli, xiao, kaeya, baizhu, itto, albedo, cyno, dainsleif.
author's note. here they are as promised!! they're clean on this part! still gender neutral reader (i tried to keep it as much as possible.) i want to thank everyone of you for more than 2k notes on my first half THAT REALLY BLEW UP!! i hoped everything they want were included here! i wouldn't be making part three anymore sadly ;( I LOVE YOU ALLLLLL MWAAAAH
just in case you want to see the part one!
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– zhongli
when the child hugged him, his eyes widened. “..dear, i promise you, this is not my child—” he said, wanting to make things clear up for you so that you won’t overthink. 
“hey, zhongli,” you rested your palm on his cheeks to make him look up to you. “it’s okay. i know that and i trust you, okay?”
zhongli smiled. this is one of the main reasons why he loves you. you’re so understanding and seem to be so perfect for him, as if he doesn’t deserve you. zhongli kissed you on your lips despite the child looking at the two of you.
“i love you,” he said. 
“i love you more.” you smiled. “now we go find the child’s parents, okay?” 
– xiao
xiao’s jaw dropped when the little girl hugged him tightly with a cute smile carved on her lips. 
“oh? i thought you don’t like mortals?” you jokingly made your tone serious. “i didn’t know that your dislikes with mortals would make you come inside someone else’s womb?”
“b–but i also have a clear memory and i haven’t done whatever you’re saying—come inside someone else’s womb.” he defended himself, still quite flustered because he got somewhat overwhelmed.
you giggled. “i’m joking, xiao. but you haven’t had…” your mouth mouthed sex, trying to control your language in front of the kid. “with someone..?” you whispered.
“shut it, (y/n).” his face reddened, and you proceeded laughing at him yet found him adorable.
– kaeya
“you–” you tilted your head in confusion. you knew kaeya loved you so much, and he proved it to you that you’re his everything. let’s say you were having trust issues (just quite) when you saw the little girl hugging him tightly.
“there is no actual way that she’s your daughter.” you continued your sentence.
“she is,” kaeya said, looking at the cute little girl. “in fact, she’s my third daughter.”
you also knew that kaeya was a man who tells RIDICULOUS jokes. you glared at him—not just glared—death glare would fit nicely.
“i’m joking, darling.” he kissed the side of your forehead. “you know i couldn’t do that. i love you.”
your lips curved into a smile. you’re very down bad to him, and it’s making you insane.
– baizhu
“dear,” he looked at you sadly, afraid that you might get clouded with your emotions, and you would misunderstand it. “it’s not what you think—”
you smiled, making baizhu’s stomach drop. “i know, i know.” you kissed his head to assure him that you wouldn’t think anything differently.
“i want you to explain this, though..” you added, slightly with a frown.
“i’ve never experienced this until now,” he sighed. “this little girl must be lost and i might look like her dad.”
you smiled. “okay. we’ll look for her parents together.”
his facial expression softened at your retort. you had no idea how much baizhu felt you’re an angel coming from the heavens. he kissed you on your forehead. “alright. i love you.”
– itto
“eh—” his face reddened when the little girl clinged to him. “d-do i look like a father—?”
you shrugged, trying not to laugh.
“are you mad?” he asked. itto didn’t want to show his face. it hinted at a slight terrified look. he didn’t want to lose you.
you shrugged again, refusing to reply.
“t—this is not mine! i—i swear!” he stammered. the panic in his face started to be visible. “i—i don’t even remember liking someone else…”
“i was just joking. of course i trust you.” you laughed, kissing his cheek. he blinked rapidly as his face became redder and redder. 
oh, he looked so cute.
– albedo
“whose child is this?” albedo asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. 
you blinked. “shouldn't i be the one asking? the little girl called you her daddy.”
albedo shrugged. “don’t remember having sexual intercourse with someone else.”
you sighed. you were kinda expecting albedo to give you slight affection just to prove that he wouldn’t do anything like this with someone else, and he only liked you. well… this is albedo for you.
“okay.” you slightly frowned. “let’s find her parents.” 
albedo looked at you, inserted you with a soft smile. “i love you. i hope that clears your mind.”
albedo also knew how to read someone else’s mind. 
– cyno
cyno wasn’t hugging the girl back. 
“why are you ignoring her?” you asked.
“not my child.” he deadpanned. 
“give her affection, you silly.” you laughed. 
“i ain’t going to do something that would make you mad.” he declared. “i love you but you’re kinda hard to please. it’s hard to apologize to you when you’re mad or disappointed.” 
you couldn’t help but laugh. you hugged cyno from the back and kissed his cheek. “i love you too. i’m not going mad, baby.”
cyno smiled, but he couldn’t help but sigh after. “alright.” 
– dainsleif
"too bad. if this is our little girl, she would definitely be spoiled." he sneered, kissing your cheek.
this what made you love him. he's so perfect. you love him and how he makes you calm down. you enjoyed his kiss with a smile, shutting his eyes. 
"you want babies?" you teased.
"as long as they're ours, my love." 
you smiled sweetly, kissing him on his lips. "find her parents. i'll stay here to buy the stuff you need."
"okay, love you." he smiled. dainsleif whispered something to the little girl that made the two of them wave at you as they disappeared to your sight.
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two-white-butterflies · 10 months
Text
to keep me warm | m33
Description: After disappearing from public view - you return beside the man that's stood by you.
Pairing: max verstappen/singer!reader
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(TURKS AND CAICOS, 2020)
"Dear." Max called out to you with a bottle of wine in his right hand. It was your anniversary. "I'm here!" you replied from the kitchen, slowly wiping the remnants of butter and dough on your apron. "What are you baking?" he leaned on the counter - placing the bottle there.
You opened one of the drawers, handing him the tool that would unscrew the wine. "Chocolate cake - your favorite." you smiled. Despite being a full-grown adult, his tastes were only limited to what kids like. "Nice, I can't wait." he opened the wine.
"Our anniversary and a brand new song. We deserve to get drunk tonight." he reached for the wine-glass, filling it halfway. "Sure, Maxim." your smile deepened, mixing the batter with love as the main ingredient.
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Y/N L/N Was Terrified to Return Back in the Spotlight (Extended)
Interviewer: A lot of your fans thought that the hiatus was gonna be permanent. Did you read the tweets or was it?
Y/N L/N: No. It was full on, block everything about me on the internet. I did have a private account but all the tags about me were blocked out because I didn't wanna deal with me.
Interviewer: The allegations were quite rough. Did that take a blow on your mental health?
Y/N L/N: Yes, actually - I went to therapy for a few months. I moved to Morocco and I met a wonderful man - and we both lived somewhere remote and nice.
Interviewer: A man? Who is he? Someone we might know?
Y/N L/N: [chuckles] You've watched him before. He's lovely - European and competitive. He's the subject of my song. Well - one of the subjects.
Interviewer: Can I get another hint?
Y/N L/N: You've interviewed his teammate before.
Interviewer: He works in sports! So NFL, Soccer? You know what I don't want to ask too much questions - your publicist scares me.
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"My baby's fit like a daydream, walking with his head down - I'm the one he's walking to." Max couldn't help but hum the tune of your song while walking through the Austrian GP tracks. "What are you singing?" one of the camera-mans that were following him asked.
He froze in his tracks.
"Is this live?" he removed his headphones, knowing that your song was yet to be released. "Yeah, anything wrong?" the man turned off his camera and he could feel the hot heat rising.
"Nah, we're fine mate." he lied.
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maxverstappen1: My girl 💪🏽 #YNWorld
712 comments 723,821 likes
YNSTAN: I told ya'll first 😎
ynworld: nice pic - maxverstappen1: 🤣
maxielstan: Max Rizzstappen
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ynworld: #1 Racer
0 comments 1,283,208 likes
comments have been restricted.
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cuubism · 5 months
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work is driving me fucking insane this week, so here's this silly self-indulgent thing i wrote to distract myself.
the spirit of this post is here as well XD
coffee shop au, meet cute, literally falling for your crush
--
In retrospect, forgetting to eat for three meals in a row wasn't Dream's best move. Not that he'd done it on purpose. Hence the forgetting. But taking time to cook always felt so wasteful when he was finally making progress on his novel. He could eat later, whenever the hyperfocus burned itself out.
The only thing that eventually got him out of the house was caffeine. He'd run out of both coffee and tea in the dysfunction of this week, and thus was forced to venture out to the cafe a few blocks away from his flat in search of enough energy to keep him awake for a few more hours.
Technically, there was a place that was closer. There was also a grocery store, where he could have bought coffee grounds. But Dream took the excuse to go a bit further, and not for the quality of the coffee.
He and Johanna, on the occasion she could convince Dream to leave the house and attempt to be part of society, had first started coming to this particular coffee shop because Johanna's girlfriend Rachel worked there. But Dream had to admit that what really kept him coming back, including at times when he wasn't being dragged along by Johanna, was another employee entirely.
Hob.
Hob was, in Rachel's words, "a perfectly nice guy but I don't know why you're so obsessed with him." In Johanna's words, Hob was, "quite fit, I can't lie, but I really thought you'd have gone for someone who's a bit more of an arts gremlin like you."
In Dream's words, Hob was perfect. He always had a smile for Dream, and a kind word or compliment, and he had kind eyes, and nice hands, and was terribly handsome. Dream had never been particularly attracted to masculinity before but Hob was proving him wrong over and over. He looked like he was strong enough to pick Dream up, and that did all sorts of exciting things to Dream's insides. Dream may or may not have had an actual dream about Hob holding his hand.
Hob also made terrible coffee. But Dream didn't care. He took whatever coffee Hob made him, whether the grounds were burnt, or it had way too much cream, or was vastly overbrewed, and drank it quite happily, sneaking looks at Hob all the while. Because Hob's coffee might be awful, but he always smiled at Dream as he gave it to him, and sometimes their hands brushed and it sent a thrilling little shock up Dream's arms. And anything Hob made for him felt made with love, he could tell, it was like a homemade birthday cake with uneven frosting and an undercooked part in the middle.
It was possible Dream should care more about the quality of the coffee and less about the symbolism of it.
In any case, he went to the coffee shop, underfed and undercaffeinated, hoping that Hob would be there, even if it meant he would have to down another cup of extremely bad coffee. Hob should be there, he did usually work Tuesday afternoons, not that Dream had memorized his schedule like a stalker or anything.
He stepped inside, the little bell over the door jingling, and found that he was right, Hob was there. A thrill of delight ran through him. Dream did not often feel anything as carefree or joyous as delight, but he was very sleep-deprived, and Hob was there, so there it was. Rachel was also working, and waved to him as he stepped up to the counter. As she and Johanna were both very aware of his embarrassing crush on Hob--much to Dream's chagrin--she didn't come over to take his order, instead leaving him to Hob.
"Hey, it's Dream, right?" said Hob, wiping off his hands on a towel and leaning on the counter, looking at Dream with a smile. He knows my name, Dream thought with a heady rush, then remembered that Hob was obligated to write it on his coffee cup, and that Dream came here often, and it didn't have to mean anything. "Dark roast with almond milk and caramel?"
How Hob could be so diligent about remembering his order and so terrible at making it, Dream didn't know. "That's correct," he said.
Behind Hob, Rachel mouthed keep going, which Dream took to mean that if he wanted to get anywhere he had to attempt to engage Hob in slightly more conversation than his usual coffee-ordering script. This was unfortunately true, particularly since Hob had already nullified half the sentences Dream would usually say by predicting his order.
"You remembered my order," he said, which felt like a reasonably normal response, definitely better than do you want to see if you can pick me up? which would probably be creepy. Rachel gave him a thumbs up.
"Of course. You're quite memorable," said Hob, and winked at him. Was he flirting? Dream would like to think so, but he wasn't usually very good at picking up on that sort of thing. Why would Hob be interested in him anyway? Perhaps he meant that Dream was memorable in a bad way, that he was annoying or weird, or--
Dream still hadn't responded.
"I am not trying to be," he said, and behind Hob, Rachel sighed. It was true, though. In most areas of life Dream preferred to go unnoticed. It was only Hob's attention that made him feel all bubbly inside.
"Task failed successfully," said Hob, "because I can't stop noticing you."
Was Dream... still succeeding at the conversation? That was truly unexpected, that he hadn't already turned Hob off by being utterly unsuitable for human society.
"Is that a good thing?" Dream asked.
"Is it?" asked Hob.
Undoubtedly it was. Dream liked the thought of Hob noticing him. He liked the thought of Hob remembering his name, and his coffee order, and when he came into the cafe, with as much detail as Dream had memorized his schedule. He did not normally like having people's eyes on him but he liked the thought of Hob looking. Of Hob caring about what he saw. It made him feel interesting and worthy, and sort of giddy and lightheaded--
Oh. No. That wasn't Hob's attention. That was the fact that the last meal he'd eaten had been a sleeve of biscuits for breakfast two days ago, and that he'd been on his feet for a long time, or what constituted a long time when one had only had a sleeve of biscuits two days ago to eat. And he hadn't slept, and he'd had quite an exciting few minutes just now, and apparently this all meant that his body had decided it needed to check out for a moment, thanks, goodbye.
Inconvenient timing, Dream thought, as everything went sort of spinny and blurry. He was making such progress! He really thought Hob might even like him, and falling on the ground was not going to help his case.
Inevitable now, though. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Hob's face, expression shifting from amusement to concern, and really, there were worse ways to go out.
He woke up not much later, or at least it felt like little time had passed, to find himself lying down on a couch in what seemed to be the cafe's back office, as best as his overtaxed mind could gather. And Hob was crouched beside him, looking at him worriedly, Rachel leaning over his shoulder, face likewise creased in concern.
Dream wondered how he had gotten to the couch. Had Hob carried him there? It was a pleasant thought, though he wished he could have experienced it in person.
"You know," said Hob, "there are easier ways to get out of talking to me than blacking out." The words were light, but he sounded genuinely stressed out about it.
Dream immediately felt bad. "I'm sorry."
Hob chucked him on the cheek, a light touch that felt fond. "Not what I meant. Are you okay?"
Dream carefully pushed himself up to sitting, Hob watching all the while, hands hovering over him but not touching. Dream sat up. His head didn't spin. "I am okay," he said.
"Probably didn't eat anything today, huh?" said Rachel. She didn't look quite as concerned as Hob did, she was used to Dream's habits. Meanwhile, for all Hob knew, Dream had a brain tumor and would imminently die.
"No," Dream admitted. "I was... occupied."
"Will you be okay here for a sec?" Hob asked, brow scrunching as if he truly thought Dream might just collapse again onto the floor without him. "I'll get you some water. Something to eat, too."
It was worth fainting in a public place, Dream thought, just to have Hob look at him with such care.
When Dream nodded, Hob hurried away to do just that.
Only now his crush was going to be one million times worse, and certainly not reciprocated, not after the scene he'd caused.
Beside him, Rachel was laughing, hiding it behind her hand.
"Is my suffering humorous to you?" Dream asked, but there was no heat in it, he was too busy looking after where Hob had disappeared.
"You should have seen it," she said. "He launched himself over the counter to catch you. Oh my god, I wish you could have witnessed it."
"Surely Hob would aid any customer in distress," Dream sniffed. But something turned over in his stomach, a little flutter of hope.
"Yeah but not literally vault the counter. It was terrific. I was worried he'd break a hip."
"I'm not that old," said Hob, coming back around the corner and crouching beside Dream again, water bottle and what looked like a chocolate muffin clasped in his hands.
Rachel was unrepentant. "You're lucky you didn't wind up on the floor, too."
"You caught me," said Dream, staring into Hob's eyes. He had such pretty eyes. Rich brown, like coffee with a dash of cream.
Dream might still be a bit lightheaded.
"Of course," said Hob, and uncapped the water, handing it to him. Dream took slow sips, realizing as he did that he hadn't drank any water all day. "I'm fond of you, you know. Can't let you hit your head on the floor."
Fond. Dream might faint again.
"Should I take you to hospital or something?" Hob asked, still so concerned it was making that floaty feeling bubble up again in Dream's chest.
"I will be fine here," he said.
"He just fell for you, that's all," said Rachel, and Dream glared at her. She just smiled back. "Swooned and everything."
"I did not swoon," Dream protested.
"You kind of did, actually," said Hob. "I've never seen someone just crumple so dramatically."
"Oh, have you seen many people faint, then?"
"No, but--"
"I'm going to man the till," said Rachel, patting Dream on the arm. "I don't think I want to be in the middle of this. Let me know if you want me to take you home, Dream." She winked at him. "Unless you'd rather Hob do it."
Johanna was never this meddlesome, Dream thought bitterly. She just made fun of him and left it at that.
Then he was alone with Hob, which was both an exciting and anxiety-inducing state of affairs. He clutched his water bottle for balance.
"Um. I got you this," said Hob, and handed him the muffin. "Made them this morning."
Dream was really quite hungry, so despite Hob's poor coffee record, he took a bite of the muffin.
And this was how he learned that Hob was utterly lacking in coffee-making skills because all his talent was in baking.
The chocolate was so rich, it tasted more like cake than a muffin. the chocolate chips melted on his tongue, and he had to force himself not to just immediately take another huge bite. He really was so hungry. Perhaps, now that he knew he could get such things here, he would have a reason to visit the cafe other than just Hob -- and a reason to eat breakfast, too.
"Good?" said Hob, and Dream nodded, licking the melted chocolate from his lips, and he didn't fail to notice Hob watching the movement of his tongue. Perhaps Johanna and Rachel were right, and it wasn't hopeless, even if Dream's best attempt at flirting back was collapsing onto the floor.
He did not know what possessed him then. Perhaps it was the chocolate. Perhaps it was the worry still lingering in Hob's warm eyes, or maybe he had just hit his head and forgotten about it. Either way, he leaned forward in his seat, and kissed Hob on the lips.
His lips were so soft. Just as Dream had dreamt they would be. Hob made a sound of surprise against Dream's mouth, and caught him by the arms so he wouldn't fall out of his chair. Which was a definite possibility, though now the lightheadedness was not caused by a calorie deficit but rather because he was kissing Hob.
Hob who was kissing him back, too. Softening against his mouth, licking the remaining chocolate from Dream's lips. Would Hob hug him, too? If he had already caught him? Dream had fantasized so much about being hugged by Hob.
Only one way to find out. He leaned into Hob's arms, and Hob caught him again, wrapping his arms around Dream's back. He was so warm, and strong. He was wonderful.
"It is a good thing," he said into Hob's shoulder.
"What is?"
"You noticing me."
Hob chuckled. The sound rumbled through Dream's chest. "It's not hard to do. I've been eyeing you for a while, you know. I always hoped you'd talk to me more."
"I am not very good at talking more," said Dream.
"I think I've got that now." Hob pulled back to look at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Falling over is more your style."
"I only faint on occasion," Dream protested, which only seemed to amuse Hob more.
"Well. If talking is a bit tough, maybe we can go for a walk sometime?" He tucked a strand of Dream's hair behind his ear, and Dream shivered. Hob clocked it, too, and let his hand rest on the back of Dream's head, fingers curled in his hair as his gaze flicked to Dream's lips and back up. "Or. Something else?"
Dream thought something else might make him spontaneously combust. That might have to wait a bit, at least until he could cope with Hob looking at him like that without feeling like he was about to explode in a flurry of butterflies.
"A walk, if you will hold my hand," he said, and Hob smiled, and took his hand, and Dream learned that all dreams really could come true at once.
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 4 months
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false god - m. murdock
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a/n: sorry if this is bad i did my best because i have been thinking about him a lot warnings: cursing, smut, cunninglus (reader recieving), exhibition (kind of?) matt has an oral fixation, praise, premarital activites, reader is deaf and uses hearing aids but it's only mentioned once, if i missed any let me know! word count: 1.8k summary: the night before your wedding, you and matt are starving. you want to order room service, matt wants to eat out. pairing: matt x fem!reader now playing: false god - taylor swift "but we might just get away with it/religion's in your lips/even if it's a false god/we'd still worship/we might just get away with it/the altar is my hips"
When the devil finally proposed to you, he did it amongst flames and darkness.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite as dramatic as that.
Matt had proposed to you in the empty office of Nelson, Murdock & Page where you had met, with the lights turned down and candles lighting up the air around you. It was romantic, just as the two of you deserved.
Planning took a long time, too, with flowers, dresses and food taking over your every thought.
But now, all of that was done. There was nothing to be worried about anymore, as you and Matt specifically requested that if anything were to go wrong, Foggy and Karen would take care of it the best they could and not alarm the two of you unless someone was either dying or threatening to kill you.
So, in less than twenty-four hours, you would be Mrs. Matt Murdock, doomed to a life of lawyer jargon and patching up wounds, with no way out. The thought made you giddy.
The ceremony was going to be held at the church, but the pair of you had moved in with each other a long time ago, so it felt weird to try and avoid each other the night before the wedding and the morning in your own apartment. So, you and your future husband, as well as your small wedding party, had booked a few rooms in a hotel near the church.
You both had your respective ‘last hurrah’ a few weeks prior, so there was really nothing to do after the rehearsal dinner other than head to your room and relax, waiting for your alarm to go off to start getting ready.
You had decided to take it easy, enjoying a glass of wine after what you deemed to be an ‘everything’ shower, taking all the necessary precautions to feel like your best self on your wedding day. You had even bought yourself a nice silk pajama set, white, just like your rehearsal dress, and just like your wedding dress.
Your wedding dress hung freshly steamed in the closet of the hotel room, your shoes placed neatly beneath it. Your jewelry and accessories were laid out neatly on the dresser across from the bed. Your wedding ring sat in a box, inscribed with your husband’s name on it. He sat next to it, your name in braille on the inside of the ring.
In the morning, your mom, your sister, Karen, Marci and the woman who had been doing your hair and makeup for every major life event would be there, coffee in Karen’s hands, as your soon to be husband and his best friend got ready together, reminiscing on how they had landed themselves here.
Everything was perfectly set in place. Your job now was to just get married, and really, how hard could that be?
So, with your wine, you tuck yourself into bed with full intentions of getting a good night’s rest in your silky bridal pajamas.
Except, your job was almost done. There were no more seating arrangements to make, no one else to chase after for an RSVP, no more fittings, and no more menus to create to adhere to you and your soon to be husband’s particular tastes.
So, for the first time in weeks, you weren’t stressed at all.. Which left you with one conclusion:
You missed Matt.
You had seen him a few hours ago for the rehearsal dinner, but you were suddenly left with the conclusion that you were aching for the man you’d spend the rest of your life with.
Before you realized what you were doing, you were calling him.
On the second ring, he answered.
“Hey, sweetheart. Everything okay?”
“Hi. Everything’s great.”
A pause.
“Okay, do you want to talk about anything..?”
“There’s nothing else to do, Matty!” You’re out of bed and pacing now. “I’m stress free, and I can’t even be with you!”
You hear his laugh from the other side of the line, and it makes your heart flutter.
“We have the rest of our lives to spend the night together, baby.” He must have had a drink or two like you, because ‘baby’ is his tipsy nickname for you.
“I know, but I miss you now. And I’m hungry.” You tell him.
“Do you want to come over, order room service, and make out?”  He grins. “You just have to leave before midnight, it’s bad luck to see the bride the day of the wedding.”
You’re putting on your slippers when you pause and consider this for a minute.
“Matt, You’re blind.”
“And you’re deaf, don’t forget your hearing aids, baby.”
“How drunk are you right now? How would I be talking to you if I didn’t have them in right now?” You question.
A pause.
“I can’t wait to marry you.” His voice is softer now, and before you know it, you’re out the door and walking down the hallway.
He opens the door before you can knock, because of all the men in New York, you’ve landed the one with heightened abilities.
“Hi.” You grin, but he doesn’t respond. He simply leans down and picks you up bridal style, much to your objection. He kicks the door behind him closed before he carries you to the bed. He lays you down on it, finding himself on top of you.
“Silk?” He asks gently, his hand on your side.
“Mhm. Bridal pajamas.” You giggle. He just grins and leans in to kiss you. He pulls away from the kiss only to move to your jaw, and then down your neck. “Matthew, I want to order room service, I’m starved!”
His hands find their way underneath your top, his fingers beginning to creep up your skin.
“Me too. Been planning so much, I’ve hardly had the chance to be with you.. To touch you like this.”
You hum softly, but then your stomach rumbles loudly. So, when He lands on his knees in front of you and pulls you forward so that his head is between your thighs, he takes a second to lean over, searching for the room service menu before handing it to you, as well as the phone.
“What looks good, baby?” He asks, leaning his cheek against your thigh. Your pajama bottoms are shorts, so his warm cheek is a sharp contrast to your skin.
“What are you up to, Murdock?” You ask suspiciously, sitting up to look at the menu.
“Nothing, what kind of desserts do they have on there?”
What a weird, secretive man your future husband is.
“Uh, they have a crème brulee, apple pie, angel cake with chocolate ganache frosting—”
“Oo, can you order me one of those?” he asks, starting to kiss your thighs. Your face flushes.
“Sure, But I’m also gonna order the chocolate covered strawberries and the brownie al a mode—”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” He hums, “You just have to order it for me.”
You raise an eyebrow at him, but you go to dial the number for room service.
The woman on the other end of the phone is very nice.
As she begins to talk, Matt listens in, but mainly focuses on pulling down your shorts and panties, kissing along your thighs.
Your free hand goes to his hair to try and keep him from eating you out while you order room service, but he is a persistent man.
His lips meet your clit first, and he listens as you gasp, trying to finish the order that he had so kindly requested you to make. His tongue meets your folds, finally satiating the hunger he had for weeks leading up to this.
Your fingers grip his hair, only making him quicken his pace.
“Can I also get uhm—” You can barely think straight. “The uh, Fuck—” Matt’s nose rubs against your clit, his tongue moving at a devastating pace.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” The woman on the other line asks.
“Yeah, Sorry, stubbed my toe on the dresser,” You explain. Matt grins from his place between your thighs. His tongue drags up and down, as if he’s licking every inch of you, like maybe he’ll never be able to taste you again. “The angel cake, can we get two slices of that?” You ask, your fiancé’s pace increasing.
“Yeah, of course. Anything else?”
Matt takes only a moment to stop his assault on your pussy, to add, “The strawberries, baby,” before continuing to lap his tongue against your wet heat.
“The chocolate covered strawberries, and that’s it,” You finish.
“Alright, we have the brownie, the strawberries, and the cake..” She finishes. “What room?”
“Two twenty six,” You tell her. You roll your hips up to try and get more from Matt, but one hand leaves his grip on your thigh to hold your hips down. He knows you’re close, he always knows.
“Oh, are you the bride for tomorrow?” She asks.
This god damn wedding.
“Mhm,” You manage out, biting your lip to try and stop yourself from moaning.
“Congratulations!” She chirps, “Consider the room service complimentary, then,” She gifts.
“Thank you, very much.” You hum.
Matt stops his assault again.
“Ask her how long,” and then he’s back to tasting you, relentlessly.
“How long?” You ask, breathlessly.
“Should only be about ten, fifteen minutes.”
“Okay, thank you,” You say again, your grip on Matt’s hair tightening as you edge closer to your orgasm.
“Of course! Have a very happy wedding day!” And with that, she hangs up, and you toss the phone in the general direction of the machine.
“I’m gonna kill you,” You tell Matt, who stops quickly.
“Do you want to kill me, or do you want me to make you cum?” He asks. He looks really pretty between your thighs.
“Please, Matty..” You give in, and he smirks.
“That’s my good girl.” And he continues to suck your clit, edging you closer and closer. His pace quickens, somehow even more. You let out a soft moan that sounds like absolute heaven to Matt’s ears.
Your thighs are starting to shake because you’re so damn close. Matt keeps his licks consistent, waiting for your release. Your fingers tug on his hair, as you moan, finally hitting your release. He lets you ride out your high, licking all your cum up, making sure to suck up every last drop.
“So sweet and so good for me..” he hums, planting a soft kiss to your clit before pulling away, licking his lips.
“You’re such a dick..” You giggle.
He laughs, kissing your thigh.
“Did so well for me, Sweetheart..” He hums, leaning up to give you a soft kiss. When he pulls away, he slips your shorts back on, and looks like he has a new idea. “Ten to fifteen minutes, huh?”
“Mhm..” You’re just looking at him with such adoration.
“We could probably put that pretty mouth to good use while we wait, right?”
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