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#but should I do a different color for my windows???
randomshyperson · 1 month
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The Bed Issue - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots
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Summary: Another retake of Wandavision, this time, the scene with the two single beds.
Warnings: (+18) pure smut, enchanted strap, fingering, creampie, wanda is in charge but r tops, dirty talking, some typical Westview angst (brief reality alteration) but purely sinful | Words: 3.284k
A/N-> At this point, I feel I should start a new collection with all the scenes I rewrote. I miss writing series people, where are my ideas. Also, sorry if there are too many spelling errors, I wrote this on my phone (it's hard to be poor and busy). But good reading!
General Masterlist | AO3
-&-
The sign of two single beds in the room made you giggle right away.
Wanda, who walked in first, looked back at you with curiosity. Her gaze scanned your face as she asked: “What's funny, darling?”
Your eyes found her and a deep sigh escaped your lips, the ghost of that giggle still present in your expression. 
“The beds, Wanda.” You replied quickly, almost offended she couldn't see the absurdity of that. Maybe she was playing innocent. Or at least, that's what her confused gaze looked like. Another sign escaped you. “Why would a married couple sleep on different beds, side by side?”
“Well, I…” but she cut herself mid-sentence, her gaze shifted as if she realized that really didn't make any sense. “I guess you're right.”
The bed moved as quickly as her fingers - the wood jumping to the side to connect and transform into one bed. You smile, moving forward to kiss your wife's cheek.
“Lovely tricks as always, darling.” You praise, catching the soft color rising up her skin before you step to the bathroom. But you comment again, giggling: “How odd that was, two beds.”
Distracted by your own joke, you didn't catch Wanda's shoulder tension. And she could only force a smile, giving a quick gaze at your figure brushing your teeth while mentality praying that for the sake of her poor heart, you wouldn't notice any other weirdness tonight.
-&-
A stupid tree.
A stupid tree branch against the window and things got out of hand completely. At least this time, in a good sense of things.
That is because Wanda found herself pressed into the bed, giggling at our bold hands under her clothes.
She remembers this teasing all too well. Beyond the sexual tension, and the teenage hormones, there was intimacy. You could always make her laugh, no matter the situation. Often, you would do that in inappropriate ones that's for sure. Just for the satisfaction of making her blush deeply when apologizing to whoever was around to testify you making a mess out of her. And then when in a situation like tonight, where it was too hard to breathe and too warm for a coherent thought - teasing fingers where she had tickles was the perfect way to ease her anxiety. To anchor her back and remember it's just you. Her best friend. Warming your way around her skin.
But things were a little - a lot - different in Westview. Neither of you knows why or how, or better saying, Wanda knew to a different extent than you.
When she brought the covers up your bodies, taking the lead for the night and expecting to meet your eagerness to kiss her again, she was met with more giggles.
She stared down at your shiny eyes, leaning into the hand you brought to her cheek.
“It's too warm here.” You let her know softy, and yes, Wanda was quite aware. Kissing you was more than enough to heat her entirely, but doing this under the covers was a challenge. She could feel the sweat starting to drip. She was ready to say she didn't mind, maybe even kiss you to change the subject when you added: “Why would you cover us anyway, darling? There's no one watching.”
It was meant to be a joke, obviously. You don't know. You couldn't know. And your eyes were innocent and your smile was sincere and Wanda hesitated.
Your hand remains on her cheek, the caress never stopping.
“Did I say something wrong? Where did you go just now?” 
She went outside. Outside the hex, all the way to monitors transmitting her sitcom of a fake life. But not really. Because she didn't consciously know about any of this. Yet, some part of her mind did know, and all the TVs that once exhibited her little show, now hold a Stand By sign. 
Wanda was the one who threw the covers aside. The fresh air was well welcome but you're now distracted with the gorgeous woman moving to straddle your hips.
“You're right, there's no one watching.” She says with the same urgency she burst open your pajama shirt. You don't understand the rush, but she looks too pretty for you to disagree. And Wanda purrs at the sight of your naked skin, biting her lips like a naughty child. “I missed you.”
You chuckle breathlessly, some confusion in your eyes. “I was with you all day.”
She shook her head, deciding now to control her tongue. If she doesn't want you questioning, she needs to stop saying things like this. So she forces a smile, shifting against your hips in a way that makes your breath catch in your throat. “I always miss my wife, I mean. Whenever she's not touching me.”
Even though you offer her a grin, there's a blush in your cheeks that goes down your chest and Wanda suddenly doesn't feel like talking anymore.
A feeling you two seem to share as you bring a hand to her face only to pull her down at you again. It's a heated kiss. With tongue and breathy whispers that turn her into needy sounds. 
Even without the covers, it's soon too hot to keep clothes on. 
You're the one who takes her nightgown off. Pulling down as your tongues dance together, until the item no longer hides the tits you started to play it. 
Wanda's eyes are tightly closed as your mouth sucks her nipple. Your hand plays with the other while she struggles to breathe. 
Her top needs to go, but so does all the other clothing. The nightgown barely reached the floor and you're already pulling at her soaked panties, eager to feel her inside.
“Need this off you now, witchy.” The nickname makes her gasp. You haven't used it until now and it has been way too long since she heard. Since you- 
No. No thinking about this, not now.
She forces herself back to the present, an easy task when she feels every inch of her skin burning with your touch. She needs to move away to take the item off but your hands hold her tight by the waist at the mere attempt of breaking apart.
She giggles breathlessly, aware of the new wave of wetness that dripped down with the feeling of your strong hands manhandling her back at her position, keeping her restless hips still. “But you said you wanted it off.” She tries to ration, receiving only a growl in return. The next second, when your hands shift, the item is torn off her without ceremony. 
“Hey! It was my favorite.” She pouts in protest but you merely give her a husky chuckle.
“I'm sure you can fix it.” Comes as a teasing answer that Wanda couldn't contradict even if she wanted to - all previous thoughts are gone when your fingers reach her front and penetrate between her warm folds without a warning. You groan at the delirious feeling of her pussy against your fingertips while Wanda whimpers at the ceiling, trying to get used to the sudden invasion.
“Fuck, you're so tight.” Your remark with a sultry voice against her ear. Wanda's arm circles your shoulder for some support while she feels the stretch of your fingers inside her. It's been a while since last time but dear God how she missed this. Her hips move on instinct and you have to chuckle at her impatience with herself. Your free hand moves to her lower back, caressing her skin while your fingers start to press your way inside her.
“Easy darling, I got you.” You guide, too deeply for her to give you any replies other than pleas and whimpers.  The position might not be the most comfortable for you but it's amazing to her. Wanda can grind down and ride your fingers as she pleases and you can feel how close she's coming to her climax so you don't dare to stop. Your thumb moves to her clit, circling the nerve and she nearly loses it. The bedroom lights start to flash with the build of this orgasm and you stare at her in amazement only to be rewarded with her gorgeous flushed face while she grinds into your hand in nearly despair.
“Fuck you're so beautiful.” You gasp, increasing the speed. The depth. Wanda breaks in a sob, her back arching. The first one is a charm. Your name is being screamed at the ceiling while you feel her wetness dripping down your hand. Unfortunately - or fortunately - it only makes you crave her more. She's still recovering from the intensity of this climax, all sweaty and flushed when you shift your hand. You're still inside her tight walls and your fingers start to pick up a pace again. She squeaks at the overstimulation, but her protest dies in your tongue sucking hers when you kiss her again.
Wanda's almost too distracted by the filthy of this kiss to notice how quickly her second climax is building - almost. There's a bite against your bottom lip that makes you groan when she breaks the kiss, unable to keep it up. Her hands grab at you for some grounding when she feels how close she is to come, stronger than the last time. You feel her nails piercing your skin when her orgasm washes over her and it's your time to moan at her ear.
Her body goes limp for a moment after this. It was two intense orgasms in a row after all. She just needs to take a breath. 
You move your fingers out, sucking them clean and murmuring satisfied at her taste while Wanda struggles to recognize her surroundings.
When you can hold her with both hands again, you nuzzle at her cheek.
“Enjoying yourself, witchy?” You dare to tease her when she can feel how she's still leaking in your lap. Honestly, the nerve. Wanda let out a deep breath, pushing her momentarily tiredness away. 
There's an easy smile on her lips when she finds your eyes again. “I am but I've been so selfish.” She starts with a particular accentuation of her ascent that she knows you drive you insane. She also watches as your breath catches and your eyes drift to her lips, mesmerized by every word. “You must be needing me as well.”
But you tense at her nails screeching your belly, a worried frown coming at your expression.
“Wanda… my powers.” The fear in your eyes is like a cold buck of water. Oh, yes, she forgot.
For the whole day, she forgot you had no idea of the life you two shared. Nothing outside Westview and this lovely fantasy. None of the creative ways you two once used to bypass the super strength issue. Your fear and hesitation at hurting her made perfect sense but the fact that she was the only one who could remember the whole history you two shared was still painful. Her expression probably gave her away and confused you even more. “I promise you this is more than enough for me. Bringing you pleasure is enough.” You add gently, but Wanda shakes her head, leaning in to kiss you. She leaves you breathlessly before breaking apart, taking some pride in the way you're blushing.
“Don't be silly, darling, there's plenty of things for us to do together. To please one another.” You gulp at her words and tone of voice, eyes following all of her movements. From the shift of her hips to the teasing of her fingers on the way down your pants. “I wanna try something I think you'll love it. Do you trust me?”
You nod immediately, watching as Wanda's fingers play with the hem of your pants. She giggles naughty at your anticipation and brings one finger up to your chin, to make you look at her eyes again. 
“Can you use your words?”
“Y-yeah.” You swallow, trying to win some composure back. It's not easy when Wanda Maximoff is naked and sitting on your tight. But you smile anyway. “Of course I trust you, witchy.”
She smiles at you, her eyes flashing a glimmer of naughtiness that makes your heart leap. You can't worry too much about that anyway - Wanda leans in to kiss you again. And it's the dirtiest one of the night. She takes the lead, pulling back now and then just to tease your tongue with the tip of hers, reveling at the way you pant and struggle to keep your hips still. 
But suddenly, you feel the new pressure inside your pants. The odd sensation shifts your attention entirely but Wanda brings her hands to your neck and kisses you hard. You moan into her tongue, hands holding her tight by the waist until her spell is complete. She presses down into you and the kiss is broken with your needy awareness.
“F-fuck, is that…?” You open surprised and aroused eyes at her, looking down where your middles connect only to watch Wanda's equal affected state. Her trembling hands reach down at your pants, trying to pull the garment off.
“Yeah, and I really need you inside now, alright baby? Think you're ready for me?” Her words are rushed as her fingers. Your pants and underwear are stuck in an awkward position on your thighs because Wanda is too impatient to wait another second. She grabs the hardness - barely giving you time to get used to the image or more important the feeling - of that scarlet strap magically placed there - before she sinks down.
It's a form of revenge, maybe. For the way you didn't give her time to prepare before, but what a sweet revenge that was.
The nearly animalistic grunt that escaped you when Wanda's cunt squeezed around you was a sound you didn't know you could make. She, on the other hand, rewards your ears with a pleasant deep moan while she adjusts to the fullness. There's also a new stretch. The toy is obviously larger than your fingers and goes deliciously deeper so Wanda needs to take a deep breath while she welcomes you in.
To her delight, not that you can remember this, but just like the first time you two tried, it's too much of a new overwhelming pleasure for you to handle. You came almost the same second you're bottom up. Tensing and shaking at the new feeling. You gasp, hands falling at the sides to grab the sheets that are torn apart while you hide your face into her neck and your climax washes over you.
Wanda giggles in amusement. The hot shot inside her feels as good as she remembers and you haven't changed. But the toy softening causes you to panic.
“S-sorry, god, I'm so sorry. I don't-”
“Shh, it's okay.” She cuts your anxious babbling immediately, firming her legs around you and bringing her hands to hold your cheeks. “I know it feels like a real one, but it's not a real one.” She says and without any warning, grinds down at you, stealing all the air of your lungs. Wanda bites her lip before adding “See? You're hard again already.”
You can't give her words. The only thing that leaves your mouth is a whine that makes her clench around you. 
Suddenly, she's moving. Rough grinding before she's undeniably riding your strap and it's dirty and maddeningly sexy so your hands hold her hips and help her when her body starts to betray her wishes to keep going. 
“Oh, Wanda, you feel so nice.” You moan with your eyes closed, outside the shared grunts and your words, the only sounds of the room are the bed creaking and the soaked toy coming in and out of her. Your lovely wife decides to give you a reason to be louder. Her hands push you back at the bed and now you can see her in all of her glory. Her pretty tits bounce with the hard pace she takes on top of you. “W-wait. Easy, I can't hold it if you-” 
Her hands move yours - trying to slow her by the waist - away, locking your fingers together at each side of your head. Her hair makes a curtain for your faces but Wanda kisses you again. Your tongues are still moving together when you come first. 
Because you're strong - stronger than her that is - scarlet magic holds you still, wrists and ankles when Wanda can't. She holds her climax just a little longer, enough to put on a show for your breathless figure under her when you are able to look up at it. 
It's divine when it occurs - The silent scream, her frown before the blissed worn-out expression. The flags of the light, the room vibrating and her eyes bright red before the dark green meets your gaze again.
She smiles down at you, still shaking but somehow ready for another.
“Enjoying yourself aren't you, Avenger?” she repeats your words from before, but the nickname so often used for teasing makes you frown in confusion.
“What is…? But she changed that before you could finish the question. 
As quickly as it happened, the scene shifted as if the words never left her lips. You were staring at her, with uneven breathing and adoring eyes.
“Is this really necessary?” For a second, her heart leaped in fear. The possibility that you could tell she altered things. But your gaze shifted to the magic holding you still, and you offered her a pleading stare. “Won’t you let me touch you?”
Wanda sighs, adjusting your hips and seeing the way your jaw tenses at the slight movement. You're still inside her, always magically stimulated to be hard no matter how many times you come. It made sense that you might be sensitive.
She bit her bottom lip, hands resting on your chest.
“But you look so pretty like this…” She starts, leaning in as if going for a kiss. You sigh as her lips meet your cheeks instead, closing your eyes when you feel her smiling before moving down. “I like having you at my mercy.”
You hum, somewhat distracted by her soft grind against you. If you're hard again, that's not only the magic to blame but Wanda's warm pussy squeezing you still.
“But I'm like this all the time.” you joke earning a husky giggle before she puts some distance between your faces again.
You let out a deep sigh when she pulls out the next second, catching her own soft groan at the emptiness. But your words fail you when you look down and see the mixed cum leaking from her and dripping down your abs.
Cursing under your breath a single “fuck.” at the image, you are not surprised at Wanda's naughty giggle.
“You made such a mess, babe.” She teases, the toy still vibrating and it occurs to you that it doesn't just answer to your arousal, but hers as well. 
“Me? You're the one who, you know… ride it. I didn't even know I would come through it.” You tried to defend yourself with rosy cheeks but Wanda is clearly teasing you. She giggles again, adjusting herself and causing you to shut up immediately. 
“I think you should stop babbling and start cleaning your mess.”
You swallow hard when you realize she's still moving. Up towards your face. The bed makes a strong crack sound when you use all your strength to pull your hands free from her magic chains.
Wanda allows you to break free. Mainly because she loves to feel your hands holding her thighs open when you eat her out.
Some old habits never die.
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fxrmuladaydreams · 6 months
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austrailian kisses (sv5) (dr3)
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pornstar!seb x reader , pornstar!daniel x reader
summary: you take seb’s advice to broaden your horizons and spend some time with his austrailian friend
notes: this may be the filthiest thing i’ve ever written.
warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! bondage, oral (f receiving), sex toys (vibrator), overstimulation
prev part next part
You were hesitant to text Daniel. How were you meant to go about this? Should you just come out with it and ask to collaborate with him? He did say he was a fan, but he just being nice?
You swallow your nerves and shoot him a text saying hello and introducing yourself.
To Daniel
Hey Daniel, it’s Y/n, the girl that Sebastian was filming with last week. He gave me your phone number so that I could message you.
I was wondering if you wanted to try to film something together? If not, I get it. It was nice meeting you the other day.
You throw your phone to the other side of your bed and bury your face in your hands. How was Sebastian able to be so confident when he asked you to collaborate?
A few minutes later your phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with a notification.
From Daniel
Hey Y/n, of course I remember you, I wasn’t lying when I said I was a fan. I’d love to work on something with you.
You let out a breath then text him back, making plans to meet in person.
You felt odd, waiting for Daniel at a cafe. Your mind flashed back to the nerves you had when meeting Sebastian for the first time, how he was effortlessly charming, and so easy to fall for. You shake the thoughts out of your head. You’re doing this to move on, to forget about Sebastian.
Daniel comes in wearing a cream colored hoodie with jeans, and a baseball cap over his head. He grins when he sees you. You reach a hand out to shake his, he grabs it pulling you into a hug.
He’s got a smile plastered on his face, and his eyes are bright and warm. He pays for your drink and a few pastries for you to share, scoffing when you try to pull your own wallet out to pay.
“Don’t even try it sweetheart.” He smiles, handing the cashier his card.
Daniel is different than you thought he’d be. He’s always so controlling and commanding in his videos, but in person he’s all smiles and soft touches. He’s sunshine personified.
“Have you seen my stuff?” He asks when there’s a break in the conversation. “I watched your videos with Seb, and I feel like I should tell you I’m a lot more… dominant… than he is.”
You feel a thrill run through you at his words. “I’ve seen your videos.” You nod. “But I want that. I want what Sebastian couldn’t give me.” You ignore the double meaning in your words.
Daniel smirks. “Alright then sweetheart.”
You make plans to go back to the studio to film the next day. You feel odd getting ready. Knowing that soon someone will start knocking on your door, but it won’t be the blonde German you’ve grown accustomed to.
You scold yourself for hoping to see Sebastian when you do hear knocking, and feel a little disappointed when you see Daniel standing at your door.
“Ready to go?” He asks.
You nod, walking with him to his car. The ride is silent. You spend a good portion of it staring out the window, while Daniel keeps glancing over at you.
He sighs. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. It won’t hurt my feelings or anything.”
“No, no, I want to.” You reassure him.
“If you ever feel uncomfortable, remember the safe word. We’ll stop immediately, no questions asked.” He reminds you.
He helps you out of his car, and guides you inside with a hand on the small of your back. You feel your heart sink when he takes you to the room you had filmed Sebastian’s video in.
He looks down at you as he feels you tense up next to him. “Is this okay? We can go somewhere else if you want-”
“No. It’s fine.” You cut him off. “Let’s set up your camera.”
He gives you a hesitant nod, pulling out his camera and tripod from his bag.
“Alright, let’s get started.” You say once he’s finished setting up.
Daniel can tell something is off. You seem uncomfortable in this room, so he decides to try to use his charm to lighten the mood.
“Have you ever had an Australian kiss before?” He asks.
“What’s an Australian kiss?”
“It’s like a French kiss, but it’s down under.” He smirks as you feel your face warm up.
He pulls you clothes off of you, letting his hands wander each new expanse of skin that’s revealed. He takes your arms carefully to tie them up behind you. He tugs on the restraints, then lays you down, checking to make sure you’re still comfortable. He plays with your breasts before moving down to rest between your legs. He pulls them apart and softly strokes your folds.
“Look at how pretty you are.” He softly presses his thumb against your clit, pulling a gasp from you. “You’re so sensitive, aren’t you bunny?”
You feel a pain in your chest at the nickname, the one given to you by Sebastian, now being used by Daniel, but that’s quickly forgotten when you feel his finger slowly push inside you. You moan, lifting your hips up at the intrusion.
“Aww, such a needy little thing.” Daniel murmurs as he starts to curl his finger inside you. He pushes a second one inside you, his thick digits spreading you open further for him.
He stills his fingers in you, and smirks when you whine. “I know bunny, so desperate to get fucked? Why don’t you fuck yourself on my fingers.” He coos.
You rock your hips against his hand, hands gripping the bedsheets under you. You falter when his palm brushes against your clit, slowing the rhythm you created.
“You can’t get yourself off, can you? Do you need me to help you cum?”
“Yes, please!” You whine.
“I don’t believe you bunny. Beg me.”
You plead with him, your words falling out of your mouth quickly, desperate for him to make you cum.
He curls his fingers again once he’s satisfied, now fucking you roughly with them. He leans down and takes your clit in his mouth, rolling it against his tongue.
He feels you clench around his fingers and pulls himself away from your clit. “You’re so tight bunny, are you ready to cum?”
You nod quickly. “Yes, please make me cum, please!”
He takes your clit back in his mouth, sucking on it harshly. You feel yourself practically thrown over the edge as your orgasm hits you.
Daniel pulls his fingers out of you, replacing them with his tongue. He takes everything you give him, slurping obscenely from your cunt.
Just as you feel yourself start to come down from your high, he pushes his tongue back inside you. You let out a loud moan that turns into a whine as you feel his nose brush against your clit.
“C’mon bunny, you were just begging me to make you cum a second ago, isn’t this what you want?” He doesn’t wait for your response before he throws your legs over his shoulders and buries his face between them again.
He moans against your core, and looks up at you. “You taste delicious bunny.”
You feel a second orgasm quickly approaching, and before you can warn Daniel, you feel yourself release on his tongue.
Daniel licks up your cum, but pulls away shaking his head.
“Did I tell you that you could cum?” He asks. When you don’t answer, mind still a little fuzzy from your climax, he lands a sharp slap to your clit.
You yelp, attempting to pull your hips away from him.
“Don’t try and run away. I asked you a question bunny. Did I say you could cum?” He stands up now, practically towering over you.
“No, you didn’t.” You say, your eyes welling up with tears.
“Then I think I need to punish you. Turn you back into a good little bunny.” He says.
He steps away, leaving you wiggling around on the bed. You close your legs, feeling your release spread over your thighs.
When he comes back he holds a black vibrator in one hand, and tape in the other. He rests the toy against your thigh, making sure the head presses against your clit. He tapes it to you, making sure it’s secure.
“Remember the safe word?” He whispers in your ear.
“Yes Daniel.” You whisper back.
He nods before turning it on to the lowest setting.
You whine, twisting your hips around in an attempt to move away from the vibrations.
“You wanted to cum so bad, so now you’re going to cum until I’m finished watching you.” Daniel moves behind the camera, watching you through the viewfinder.
You lose count of how many orgasms you have, you mind far too cloudy to keep track. With every one Daniel walks back over to you and turns the vibrator up one setting, until it’s buzzing is arguably just as loud as your moans.
“I can’t- I can’t! No more, please!” You thrash, feeling a mix of pleasure and pain between your legs.
“C’mon bunny, give me one more good one, and I’ll stop it.” Daniel coaxes.
He doesn’t have to wait long for your past orgasm to shoot through you, your vision almost blackening out.
Daniel reaches out to turn the vibrator off, then pulls the camera off the tripod and walking over to you. He pulls your legs apart to show the camera the mess you’ve made, then pans it up to see your face. You struggle to keep your eyes open, you’ve got a sheen of sweat over your body, and your hair lays in a mess around your head.
Daniel softly strokes your cheek, smiling when you lean into his touch. “You were so good for me, my good little bunny.”
You flush at his praise, and give the camera a lazy smile.
He shuts the camera off, then gently lifts you to sit up. He leans you against his chest as he reaches behind you to untie your hands. Next he softly pulls the tape and vibrator off your leg.
“I wasn’t too rough, was I sweetheart?” He asks, the smiley soft Daniel back immediately.
You shake your head. “No, that was so much fun.” You turn to get up, wincing at the feeling between your legs.
“Here.” Daniel grabs a towel, wiping off your legs.
He helps you stand up, you lean against him for balance, your legs shaking like a newborn deer.
“I’ve got you.” He says as he helps you get dressed.
You walk back to his car with his arm around your waist, whether it’s to help your balance or just affection after your previous activities you don’t know, but you have to admit to yourself that it does feel nice.
He keeps chatting with you in the car in an attempt to keep you awake and aware. You furrow your brows when he passes your home.
“Daniel, where are we going?”
“I’m going to take you to get some food sweetheart.” He says as if it’s obvious.
He parks his car outside an old looking diner. He rushes over to your side to open the door for you, and again wraps an arm around your waist.
“Get ready for the best meal of your life.”
He guides you inside, greeting a few of the workers as he walks over to a small table in the corner and pulls out a chair for you.
“Hello Daniel, and who is this pretty little thing you brought with you?” An older woman asks as she places menus down for you.
Daniel answers her question before you can. “This is Y/n. Y/n, this is Dorothy.”
“Well it’s nice to meet you Miss Y/n, I hope Daniel is treating you well?” She raises her brows at you.
You laugh and nod. “Yes, he’s been very sweet.”
“I’m glad, you know he’s never actually brought a girl here with him before.” She winks at you.
“Dorothy!” He exclaims, his cheeks now tinted a soft pink.
“Alright, alright, I’ll be back in a few to take your order.” She smiles as she leaves.
You smile over at Daniel. “So you don’t bring all the girls you film with here?”
He can’t hide his smile as he shakes his head. “Only the ones I really like.”
You wince but laugh at his answer.
“No, I’m sorry, that was bad.” He laughs with you.
“It was. But it was cute.” You tell him as you look down at your menu.
Daniel grins looking down at his.
You spend your meal laughing with Daniel, well more with Dorothy telling you stories about the Australian sitting across from you, as Daniel tries to get your focus back on him by reaching over the table to interlock your fingers with his.
He pays for your meal once again, claiming that your money was no good here, then walks you back to his car.
The night has brought a cool breeze with it, creating goosebumps across your bare arms. Daniel feels you shiver beside him, and whips off his hoodie. He pulls it down over you before you can protest.
The drive back to your home is filled with silence once again, but this time it’s a comfortable silence. Daniel’s music plays softly in the background, you can occasionally hear him humming softly.
You feel a sense of calm wash over you, being wrapped up in Daniel’s hoodie. His hand rests against your thigh, his thumb brushing soft circles against it.
So, this is what it feels like to be wanted? It feels nice. You think to yourself as you watch the streetlights pass by.
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guccifrog · 2 months
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SHE🧸💸
chris sturniolo × f! reader the muwapgucci collab 🌺🍑 : in which matt and chris sturniolo are just two unexperienced losers @muwapsturniolo
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[she- tyler the creator, frank ocean] 0:26 ———♡——— 3:50 ◁◁ ▐ ▌ ▷▷
"ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵃˡᵏ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᵛᵉʳˢᵃᵗᵉ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵗᵃˡᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵃˢᵗᵘʳᵇᵃᵗᵉ"
"FUCK!" Chris yelled as he slammed his fist against the desk, the veins in his neck bulging. He glared at the screen, where his character lay defeated on the floor. Matt and Nate were both grinning smugly on the screen. "It's not fair" he muttered under his breath.
"Maybe if you spent less time whining and more time playing you wouldn't lose," Nate taunted from the screen. "Come on, kid, you're letting us win on purpose, aren't you?" He teased, shaking his head.
Chris rolled his eyes at Nate's comment, not bothering to respond. He knew they were just trying to get under his skin.
He was convinced that the only reason he lost was because he wasn't familiar with the game Matt had suggested, he was sure that if it was a different game he would've kicked their asses. Why you may ask? simply because Chris was aware of the fact that he was a loser, it wasn't a secret that he spent most of his free time playing video games, instead of doing what other teenagers his age do. Chris was a nerd and he knew it. He didn't have many friends, he didn't go to parties, he never had a girlfriend, hell he never even got his first kiss.
With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, his hand resting lazily on the mouse. As he opened a new window on his computer, looking for a new game to play, until Matt and Nate were done with their current match.
Suddenly, the computer glitches out, the screen flashing a blue color. "What the fuck?" Chris mutters, confused. He slammed the mouse against the desk, making the screen go completely black. But before he could do anything else, the screen turns back on.
"Hey, what's going on?" Nate asks from the screen, his voice filled with confusion.
"My fucking screen was glitching out!" Chris paused. "And then it just...turned back on."
"Just check the cables"Matt suggested, before going back to the game.
"Maybe I should," Chris muttered, leaning forward to inspect the cables connected to his monitor. As he pulled out the cables, one of them snags on something on his desk, causing it to swing wildly. He reaches out to steady it but accidentally clicks on a random notification in the corner of the screen.
"A stream? " he wonders, clicking on the link, curious to see who's streaming. He opens the window and The first thing he sees is a beautiful woman, her hair spilling down her back. A white oversized button-up barely covering her lacey black bra and a tiny black thong. Her long legs were crossed, one hand toying with a strand of her hair as she read the comments from her viewers. 
Chris's breath hitched as he recognized the familiar face, he had seen countless times in the back of chemistry class, or walking down the hallway. A pair of thick-framed glasses usually covered her eyes, She was the quiet girl that no one really paid attention to. He always thought she was weird, the way she dressed, and the fact that she never seemed to have any friends. she'd always be by herself, sitting in a corner, always with her headphones on, and as soon as the bell rang, she'd quickly disappear.
He rubbed his eyes, thinking maybe he was hallucinating. He still couldn't believe it. There she was, on a live stream. Her face was slightly flushed, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips as she read through the comments. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen. Her tits moved slightly as she leaned forward, her breath hitching as she laughed at something someone had said.
"by the way guys" her voice came through his headset like a whisper, "I ordered some new lingerie and they came today" She paused, giving her viewers a wink before continuing " I'm going to give you guys a special show " her voice dropped an octave, sending a shiver down Chris's spine.
Chris felt his heart racing, his palms growing sweaty as he watched her. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. This was insane. She was going to do a show for them? A show? He didn't know what that meant, but it sounded dirty.
As he continued to watch, she reached up and slowly began to unbutton her shirt, making the whole process last for what seemed like an eternity. Her breasts, perfectly round and full, spilled out of her lacy bra, and she leaned back in her chair, giving the viewers a nice show. 
Chris's eyes were wide as he watched, his mouth going dry. he felt a strange mix of excitement and shame coursing through his veins. He glanced around, making sure no one was watching him, before returning his attention to the screen.
His eyes darted between the screen and her breasts, mesmerized by the sight before him. He felt his pants growing tight as she continued to tease her viewers, slowly sliding her fingers down her stomach, revealing more and more of her body. 
He felt like he was watching a dream, some sort of surreal experience that he couldn't wake up from. His heart pounded in his chest, and his breath came in ragged gasps. He could feel the warmth spreading through his body, pooling in places it hadn't before. He never felt this way before.
"Fuck" Chris muttered under his breath as her finger brushed against her panties. He glanced at Nate and Matt, who were still oblivious to what was happening, and back to the screen. He felt ashamed, this wasn't the kind of thing he should be watching, but he couldn't look away. Her hand slid further down, and for a brief moment, she parted her lips, a soft moan escaping her mouth. He bit down on his lip, trying to control the growing need in his pants, His heart raced as he watched her, her long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks as she closed her eyes.
"take it off?" She read a comment and chuckled before leaning forward even more" You guys know the rules" she winked, taking another deep breath as her fingers brushed against her soaked panties.
MILFPLEASER sent one thousand dollars!
Chris froze, his eyes wide with disbelief as he read the message on the screen. 
she let out a laugh, a mix of surprise and delight. "Goodness," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Well if you insist..." Her gaze flicked up to meet the camera for a brief moment before darting away again. She moved her hands to her waistband, slowly sliding down her panties, revealing her smooth, wet folds. A gasp escaped her lips as the cool air of the room brushed against her. Her face flushed with excitement, as she bit her lip, trying to steady her breath.
Chris couldn't believe what he was seeing. This was beyond anything he had ever imagined, and his throat felt tight. He glanced down at his pants, wondering if he'd be able to maintain his composure for much longer.
As she continued to tease the viewers, she moved her hips back and forth, rocking her body in time with the sensation. Her breasts swayed with each movement, and her eyes were half-closed, lost in the pleasure. Chris felt like he was intruding on something private, but he just couldn't look away.
His hips jerked forward as he watched her, his breath coming in uneven gasps. He could feel the blood rushing to his crotch, faster and faster, making it hard to think straight. He glanced at Nate and Matt again, but they were still oblivious.
Her movements were hypnotizing, and Chris felt himself growing harder with each passing moment, that it was starting to hurt. He wanted to touch himself, to relieve the ache building up in his crotch, but he was afraid Nate and Matt might notice. His gaze darted between her and his friends once again, What would they say if they found out he was watching this? Would they think he was weird? Perverted?
She slowly got up from her chair, her movements smooth. She turned her back to the camera, her long, shapely legs coming into view. With one hand, she reached down and picked up a piece of clothing from the floor. She turned around, revealing her bare behind to the screen, humming along to the sound of Agora Hills by Doja Cat playing softly in the background.
She raised her arms above her head, the piece of cloth dangling from one hand, it was a pink, lacy thong. Her movements were slow and deliberate, her tits swaying with each breath. She lowered her hands, teasingly, letting the thong slide between her legs, using her hands to pull it up.
Her back arched as she stepped into the thong, pulling it up her legs, and adjusting it until it sat perfectly on her hips. She turned around, facing the camera again, and let out a contented sigh. "what do we think?." She giggled, running her fingers through her hair.
Chris reached his limit. He couldn't take it anymore. His pants were unbearably tight, and he was afraid he might lose control. Without thinking, his hand snuck down to his crotch, his palm pressing against the bulge in his pants. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he pulled his aching erection through the fabric, finally free. He stroked himself slowly, trying to find some relief from the unbearable tension.
He bit his lip, afraid he might make a sound as he continued to stroke himself. His hips moved involuntarily, mimicking the motions he had seen on the screen before. He glanced back at Nate and Matt, still focused on the game, but he could feel his head spinning. The tension was building up inside him, making it hard to focus on anything else.
The girl on the screen continued to tease the viewers, moving her hips suggestively as she talked about the thong. Chris's hand moved faster and faster, his grip tightening on his aching erection. He felt like he was on the verge of climaxing, but he couldn't afford to lose control. Not here, not now.
"Chris?" Nate's voice snapped him out of his trance. He groaned glancing over at his friend, who was looking at him with a mix of confusion and concern. "You okay, man? You've got the weirdest look on your face."
He was screwed. There was no way he could come up with a believable excuse for why he was jerking off on call. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck as he looked at Nate and Matt, his face burning with shame. "Uh... yeah I just hit my hand while checking the cables." He lied, forcing a weak laugh. "It's fine."He managed to say, His hand still working furiously beneath the desk.
"Oh, okay." Nate nodded, looking a bit unconvinced but letting it drop. "So, uh... wanna play another round ?" Chris glanced back at the computer screen, where she was now sitting on the edge of the bed, one leg casually slung over the side. Her hair fell over her shoulder, and she batted her eyelashes at the camera as she talked about her favorite lingerie pieces. She was looking right at him as if she knew exactly what he'd been doing. Her lips curved into a knowing smile.
Chris felt his face flush even deeper. "I'm not really feeling it, I have to go to the bathroom," he lied, pulling his hand away from his crotch and trying to hide his erection. "Why don't you play another round with Matt?" He stood up abruptly, making his way over to the door.
 As he walked to the bathroom. He glanced around, making sure no one was in there, before slipping inside and closing the door. he tried to steady his breath and calm his racing heart. He leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths and willing his erection to go down. The image of the girl on the screen, teasing him with her body, was burned into his brain. He wanted nothing more than to go back in there and finish what he started. But he knew he couldn't.
He let out a long, shaky breath and straightened up, trying to regain some semblance of control. He felt like he was on the edge of a cliff, wobbling between sanity and complete, overwhelming desire. The image of the girl kept creeping into his thoughts, making it difficult to focus on anything else.
His hand made its way back to his crotch, desperate for relief, but he stopped himself. He forced his hand back down to his side. This wasn't like him. He wasn't some pervert who jerked off in front of his friends. He was better than that. He took another deep breath, trying to push the image of the girl out of his mind. He glanced at himself in the mirror, seeing the flush in his cheeks and the wild look in his eyes. He took a few more deep breaths, trying to clear his head. 
Watching her felt like a pill, and he was helpless to resist. The need to touch himself was overwhelming, but he forced his hand to stay glued to his side. He couldn't believe he was acting like this. He was usually so in control of himself, but she had him completely undone. He wished he could just forget about her, but she was burned into his mind, her every movement etched into his memory.
How did this even happen? Chris thought to himself as he sat down on the bathroom floor. He remembered finding the link and clicking on it out of curiosity. It had seemed innocent enough, just a girl from his class talking about her favorite lingerie. But He couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen, he couldn't resist the urge to touch himself as he watched her.
what's worse, was the fact that she wasn't just some random girl on the internet. She was the weird girl from chemistry class that everyone seemed to forget about, no one ever paid attention to her before, she was just there. But now, she was the center of attention. And it was driving Chris mad. He couldn't get her out of his head. He knew he should just ignore her, forget about her just like before, but he couldn't.
He felt like a creep like there was something wrong with him. He felt like he was stalking her, and watching her every move, wanting to touch her in ways he shouldn't. It was unhealthy, he knew that. But he couldn't help it. She was like a drug, and he was addicted.
taglist ☆@mattestrella@chrisfavoritepepsi@sunsetsturniolos@littlebookworm803@sturniozo@sturniolooooo@athaliahxoxo@rac00ns-are-c00l4@ev3rgreenxtrees@nonamegirlxsturniolo @mooniethesimp31 @ducksturniolo@ifilwtmfc @pepsiimaxx @sleepysturnss @lustfulslxt @ilovemattsworld @hrt-attack @flowerxbunnie @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @secret-sturniolo @that-general-simp @swangelss @familynotfandom @fuckshitslover @styles-sturniolo @lvr-111 @opheliaofficial07 @kiarastromboli @hearts4chriss @braindead4l @sturniolosreads @mattsturnzzz09 @itssophiasstuff @mayhem-72 @b2cute @buckys-celestes @graceciesiels22@urmom2bitch@junnniiieee07@breeloveschris@b2cute@1horrormoviewhore1@mattswrld@urmom2bitch @andreea2992 @luverboychris @mattslolita @thenickgirl
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azullumi · 1 month
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“withering desires of a cruel man with broken confessions” ; aventurine
to you : 🧀 nonnie !! i hope you had a wonderful birthday and i’m sorry for taking a long time to finish this but hey, it’s done now (finally). belated happy birthday and i wish you all the best <33
premise — his belief that he doesn’t deserve the good things is rooted deeply underneath the dirt where he buries his corpse, and he doesn’t deserve you; this is an ode to clementia and he wishes that his song reaches you.
tags — w/ gender-neutral reader, fluff to angst, friends to friends that knows they like each other, orange as a metaphor for love, angry and forced love confessions, aven my self-sabotage and mixed signals king, 1.5k ; one-shot
note — made while listening to phoebe bridgers, faye webster, adrianne lenker, and ichiko aoba. this was supposed to be a short drabble about peeling oranges and sharing with them what happened
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They say clementines are a symbol for mercy—gentle, soft, and sweet, like an echo of the sun. 
There’s the fresh smell of citrus in the air as he delicately pulls its skin to reveal its form, a warm burst of sunset trapped within its fragile walls, and his nails will be tainted by the color of its penance and he’ll forget what it feels like to only have hatred in his heart. Maybe that’s how forgiveness tastes; salvation will fill his blood as he sheds tears that carry his sins (they were never his).
“I don’t know how you can do that flawlessly.” You say, your voice drenched in wonder and amazement as you watch the movement of his fingers, adeptly peeling the fruit. The sections come apart neatly and perfectly in his hands.
He smiles, “It’s easy.”
“It’s not.” You insist, reminding him of the horror of the state the orange has become when you tried to share it with him. “Did you see the holes I tore through it? I was left with nothing but the mere coat because the juice sprayed in all directions.”
The sound of laughter forms in his throat and escapes, “It’s because it was small and the skin is hard. Come on.” He holds a small piece near your face and you part your lips open enough for him to feed you; a warm feeling resides in your cheeks as you chew. There’s a burst of sweetness, with hints of sourness that lingered in its nature in your mouth—it reminds you of the night when he held your form and gently guided you to the melody of the song. 
“Is it sweet?” He asks, his head tilted a little to the side as he bores his gaze at you. There are lingering touches, whispered honey-coated words, affectionate gestures, and eyes painted of different vivid hues and contrasting pristine tones that never seem to hold the light, only reflecting your form within. You hum, nodding your head as you answer, “You should teach me how to peel them, you know. I don’t want to be calling you everytime or having to rely on you too much.”
(Truthfully, and hopefully so, may you never learn so he’ll get to be this close to you always.)
He smiles, sunshine peeking through his expression, “I wouldn’t mind.” He wouldn’t mind if it were just a small matter or nothing at all, you can keep on calling for him, ask for his assistance or simply just his presence—he’ll come running to you. He whispers, “Use me as you wish,” and his words shatter as it falls to the ground. (See him as a tool that has never known its purpose. See him as worthless but mere dust that covers your window sills. See him as nothing but a fool who never understood the lines in his heart.)
You say, “You know you’re not just as little as that to me.”
“Then what am I to you?” The comfort of silence settles in the gaps of his fingers and he finds himself seeking, waiting, with bated breath. His gaze seems to still at your eyes before falling to your lips, lingering for a few moments before meeting your eyes once more, and your hands tremble; you know the answer, you know what to say, you know, you know, you know, you know—and, at once, there’s the warm feeling of his lips on yours as you pull him in, as he pulls you in.
It’s gentle, soft in all of its edges and cracks. He holds your face in his hands and you intertwine yours in his locks, and you pull at his hair, eliciting a hum from him. It’s a burst of warmth, the taste of something sweet still left in your tongue as he kisses you. It’s short yet it will be engraved and buried in the depths of your mind for eternity.
“I like you.” You whisper against his lips as you part, eyes heavy on each other yet his gaze wavers and his breath shudders.
“I…” Why else would he continuously seek your embrace? Why else would he prefer to be alone with you even if it’s just silence between you and him (your presence alone brings him comfort)? Why else would he take such time to understand your form and cradle your being as if you were born from glass? He didn’t have your hands carve the shape of his thoughts into the form of your being just so he wouldn’t capture the feeling of your touch on his skin and how he craves, yearns for it like a starved man—and yet, he’ll hold his head down in humiliation as he looks for the words on the ground. He’s worthless, useless, nothing like his ‘luck’ that seems to curse everyone around him, and you’re everything he’s not. “I’m sorry.”
His hands fall from your cheeks and he stands up, saying, “I’m sorry, I have to go.” 
The chair screeches beneath him; his thoughts remain silent yet deafening, your voice fading into white noise as you call for him. He has to leave—each of his footsteps are heavy, echoing back to him as if a semblance to contempt and mockery that trails his wake.
Fear and shame forms at the bottom of his lungs. What even is he afraid of? Is it the lack of experience? The fear of abandonment? But humans are not strangers to those thoughts, people are bound to leave and Aventurine wasn’t unfamiliar with that, so how could he be afraid of something that has become a friend to him? Maybe it’s when he’s torn apart from flesh to bones and they’ll see there’s nothing in him—he was born out of barren wastelands and dust, his form has been long since buried under the golden sands. Maybe it's when he’s shown everything to them and they seek for something that he doesn’t have; the disappointment that lies in their expression will forever haunt him. Was it fear or was it worry that nobody could ever love him for what he truly is? Behind the expensive clothes he wears, the shining and heavy jewelry on his wrist, the suffocating rings on his hand, maybe they prefer his skin tainted with letters instead of wounds that brands him as human.
“—Rine.” A hand grasps at his wrist, preventing him from leaving. He stills in his position, feet glued to the floor and his back turned against you. Your voice breaks, “Stay, please.”
He’s stuck, sutured to the ground, hesitation sewing his mouth shut. You urge him to turn around, your fingers tugging at him, so he could face you, so you could see him—he’s tattered, torn and conflicted over something you’ll never know. The unfriendly air of the cold night wraps around his figure, but your hand eases warmth and comfort in his weary bones.
“Why did you kiss me?” You seek for something in the gaps of his expression, looking for a falter in the lines of his features to know the thoughts that he hides beneath all the charades and facades.
“…It was a mistake.”
You answer, frustration slowly seeping into your tone, “You know damn well it’s not.” He knows completely well it’s not and it will never be. And you don’t cry nor plead, you beg with sore, trembling palms for an answer to soothe the disturbance of the waves that will come to swallow you, drowning you in the murky waters of your mind. “You don’t get to hold my hands and cradle me in yours and tell me it’s nothing. You don’t get to look at me in a way that is reminiscent of lovers and tell me it doesn’t mean anything. You don’t get to kiss me and say that it’s a mistake. You’re a cruel man, Aventurine, and you’re unfair for telling me that it was all nothing but a mistake when you haunt my dreams.”
“…I’m sorry.” He closes his eyes for a moment, darkness swallowing his vision yet his mind conjures an image of you in it, berating him. The broken pieces of your words are left scattered on the bottom of yours and his feet.
You ask, voice low, “Do you like me?”
“Why—“
“It’s a yes or no question, ‘Rine. Do you like me or do you not?”
“I love you.” His voice is raised and cracks start to form on the surface of his expression, “and it’s scaring me.” Forgive me. The clock continues to tick despite the world seemingly coming to a still at his words.
The air is suffocating and the silence sits on your shoulders before he says, whispering in a broken tone, “I’m leaving.”
And this time, you don’t stop him. His steps are rushed against the flooring, the sound of the door closing echoes throughout the corners of your mind. The walls of your home stand tall over you, his confession written and tearing through all over your wallpaper, screaming at you; you’re left crumbling on the floor. The sweet scent of citrus lingers in the air, the mess the two of you made still on the counter tops, and you wished you told him you love him too.
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tagging @toorurs, the loveliest and sweetest of all. i hope you know that you're cherished and loved by me, and i'm so glad to have you and the sun that touches your skin must be too <33 always be reminded that you're beautiful and i appreciate everything that you do and say (you always make me laugh even when it's just the smallest and useless of things like wow you must have a special talent in making someone smile) !! thank you for always being there for me too and always cheering me up, and also making my day because everything for me nowadays is becoming unbearable and you're the only one that keeps me sane (fk exams and projects and research im going to cry)
© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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foreingersgod · 11 days
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hi bb!! im glad you’re backkk
could you do reader coloring in emilys tattooos??🥰🥰
Coloring Book . EE
pairing: emily engstler x reader
A/N: this was such a cute idea! i hope i did it justice :)
my masterlist → here
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
soft music hummed in the background from your phone. a random playlist shuffling songs as you and your girlfriend, emily, sat atop your shared bed. the sheets were tucked neatly, pillows haphazardly pushed back as emily laid against them. she wasn’t wearing a top, just her sports bra paired with her shorts to display her array of tattoos. you were sat on her lap, your legs straddling her waist.
there was a variety of different markers scattered across the bed. the scent of xylene wafted throughout the room, filling your nose. you had one marker in your hand, its cap lost somewhere beside you as you got to work.
after quite some convincing, emily was finally letting you color in her tattoos. you had seen the trend on social media a while ago and thought it was so cute. for days you begged her, eager to pull out the markers that had been forgotten in your desk, to let you do it. she wasn’t amused by the idea at first, she thought it was silly if she were to be honest. but when you gave her that look, pouted lips and bright beautiful eyes, she knew she couldn’t resist you. so here you were, on a sunday afternoon, finally getting your wish.
the sun poured in through the window with a calming 5 o’clock glow. it illuminated her skin perfectly, allowing the thick lines of ink on her body to stand out. you were leaning forward slightly, neck craning downwards to get a better view of the tattoos on emily’s arm. she propped her arm up for you to give you better access.
“ok ok, i’m done with the blue, what color should i do next?” you asked, blowing away the strand of hair that had fallen in front of your face. you put the cap back on the royal blue marker and placed it neatly back in the box.
“whatever you want, baby” emily smiled at you. she had to admit she was actually enjoying this, seeing you so enthusiastic made her heart flutter “you’re the artist here”
“well in that case” you rummaged through the markers for a moment, trying to find the color you were looking for. as you leaned across the bed, emily’s hands found their way to your hips, gripping them to hold you in place “i think i’m gonna go with red”
“perfect choice”
you grinned, glancing up at her briefly before turning your attention back to her arm. you began to color in the lines with the bright shade of red. emily watched as you colored her skin. she couldn’t seem to get enough of the sight. how your hair kept falling in front of your face, and how you would brush it back behind your ear. how you stuck your tongue out ever so slightly as you tried to concentrate on coloring. even how the ends of your lips pulled into the cutest smile when you were pleased with the work you’d done. she could stare at you all day if she could.
although she loved looking a your gorgeous face, she couldn’t help but feel inclined to take a look at your progress. with one of your hands wrapped around her bicep, the other clutching the marker that ran across her skin, she managed to take a peek. you had already filled in parts of her tattoos with pinks and blues and the occasional yellow. in some spots, you had colored outside the lines, but to emily that just gave it more personality. as she admired the bursts of color you let out a satisfied laugh, catching her attention and causing her to look back up at you.
“all done!” you clasped your hands together “what do you think?”
you seemed so proud of your artwork, biting down on your lip in excitement as you awaited her response.
“it looks so good, babe” she looked at the scribbles on her arm once more “you did such a good job! i love it”
“thank you for letting me do this,” you had now completely disregarded the markers, leaving them as a mess for future you. you had adjusted yourself on emily’s lap and scooted closer to her, placing your hands on either side of her face “you’re such a softie”
she shook her head and chuckled under her breath. god you were gonna be the death of her “only for you”
you let your body lean into her, face inching closer to hers as you pulled her into you. with eyes gently closing, you pressed your lips to hers ever so sweetly. you felt her relax into the kiss as she sighed into you. her lip’s curling into a smile as she kissed you once more.
“this isn’t going to wash off easily, will it?” she murmured against your lips.
“nope”
you both burst into laughter, imagining how long it was going to take for her to scrub the vivid colors off her arm. emily could already see it, her teammates teasing her, reminding her just how whipped she was for you. but she didn’t mind, not one bit, just as long as she got to she her girl happy.
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0sbrain · 11 months
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here's a list of mozilla add-ons for all of you tumblrinas out there to have a better internet experience
also, if you like my post, please reblog it. Tumblr hates links but i had to put them so you adhd bitches actually download them <3 i know because i am also adhd bitches
BASIC STUFF:
AdGuard AdBlocker / uBlock Origin : adguard is a basic adblock and with origin you can also block any other element you want. for example i got rid of the shop menu on tumblr
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Privacy Badger : this add on will block trackers. if an element contains a tracker it will give you the option to use it or not
Shinigami Eyes: this will highlight transphobic and trans friendly users and sites using different colors by using a moderated database. perfect to avoid terfs on any social media. i will explain how to use this and other add-ons on android as well under the read more cut
THINGS YOU TUMBLINAS WANT:
Xkit: the best tumblr related add on. with many customizable options, xkit not only enhances your experience from a visual standpoint, but provides some much needed accessibility tools
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bonus: if you are into tf2 and wanna be a cool cat, you can also get the old version to add cool reblog icons
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AO3 enhancer: some basic enhancements including reading time and the ability to block authors and tags
YOUTUBE
Return of the YouTube Dislike : pretty self explanatory
Youtube non-stop: gets rid of the annoying "Video paused. Continue watching?" popup when you have a video in the background
SponsorBlock: gives you options to skip either automatically or manually sponsors, videoclip non music sectors and discloses other type of sponsorships/paid partnerships
Enhancer for YouTube: adds some useful options such as custom play speed, let's you play videos in a window and most important of all, it allows you to make the youtube interface as ugly as your heart desires. I can't show a full image of what it looks like because i've been told its eye strainy and i want this post to be accessible but look at this <3
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PocketTube: allows you to organize your subscriptions into groups
YouTube Comment Search: what it says
FINDING STUFF
WayBack Machine: you probably know about this site and definitely should get the add on. this allows you to save pages and access older versions with the click of a button. while you can search wayback using web archives, please get this one as well as it allows you to easily save pages and contribute to the archive.
Web Archives: it allows you to search through multiple archives and search engines including WayBack Machine, Google, Yandex and more.
Search by Image: allows you to reverse image search using multiple search engines (in my experience yandex tends to yield the best results)
Image Search Options: similar to the last one
this next section is pretty niche but... STEAM AND STEAM TRADING
SteamDB: adds some interesting and useful statistics
Augmented Steam: useful info specially for browsing and buying games
TF2 Trade Helper: an absolute godsend, lets you add items in bundles, keeps track of your keys and metal and your recent trades, displays links to the backpack tf page next to users profiles and more. look it tells me how much moneys i have and adds metal to trades without clicking one by one oh may god
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IN CONCLUSION: oooooh you want to change to firefox so badly, you want to delete chrome and all the chrome clones that are actually just spyware and use firefox
HOW TO USE MOZILLA ADD-ONS ON YOUR PHONE
if you already use firefox on android, you'll know there are certain add-ons compatible with the app, some of them even being made just for the mobile version such as Video Background Play FIx. while most of them are pretty useful, some more specific ones aren't available on this version of the browser, but there's a way of getting some of them to work
you need to download the firefox nightly app, which is basically the same as the regular firefox browser but with the ability of activating developer mode. you can find how to do that here. once you've enabled it, you need to create a collection with all the add ons you want. i wouldn't recommend adding extensions if the creators haven't talked about phone compatibility, but XKit and Shinigami Eyes should work
also, don't tell the government this secret skater move, but you can try using both the regular firefox browser and nightly so you can have youtube videos in a floating box while you browse social media.
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see? i can block this terf while Rick Rolling the people following this tutorial. isn't that tubular?
2K notes · View notes
merakiui · 2 months
Text
the birds and the bees.
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yandere!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, slight dub-con, implied stalking, age gap (riddle is 19 and reader is 29) note - you're hired to teach riddle about the birds and the bees. you need the money. he needs to get laid.
The Rosehearts’s Residence looks about how you expected it to after driving past houses of similar size and grandeur. Unlike you, they’re definitely not strapped for cash. It’s an impressive structure with its elegant wrought iron gates and expertly trimmed hedges. You’re immediately overcome with bitter jealousy when you step through the entrance, passing rose bushes in full bloom. If only your apartment could look and feel as nice as this place. You almost wonder if you should keep Mrs. Rosehearts’s contact in case she ever needs a gardener or a window washer…
But then that risks your cover, and the last thing you want is to get tangled up in trouble with the upper middle class.
Gathering your courage, you smooth invisible wrinkles in your pencil skirt, steady your balance in your Mary Janes—both at socially acceptable lengths and heights—and bring your fist down against the door. Seconds after the third knock, it opens to reveal a woman who looks as prim and proper as the landscape of her home. She takes a long moment, drinking in your formal features, and then smiles approvingly.
“Ah, (Name), you’re early.”
You soften your face into something polite and demure. “Better early than late.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
She steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. You meander into the foyer and are instantly reminded of those exquisite house tours on MagiTube. There’s a fine layer of modest Victorian wealth to the decor. Flowery wallpaper, a lofty ceiling, an aureate chandelier, a vase filled with fresh tulips of all colors… Oh, how you wish you could live here!
“Your home is beautiful,” you comment as you straighten your bow headband.
“Why, thank you.” Her eyes light up once more. “I’ve always admired this neighborhood. Everything is so well-kept. Speaking of which, where did you say you’re from?”
“Oh, I’m actually getting ready to move back to school at the end of the summer,” you explain, narrowly dodging her question. No way I’m telling her I live in a not-so-affluent neighborhood… She’ll totally kick me out. “I’m staying with my parents in the meantime and working a few jobs to support myself.”
“And what was it you’re studying again?”
You paste a hollow smile on, sensing her distrust. I already told you this when we met at the clinic. Do I really seem so suspicious?
“I’m studying to be an ob-gyn.”
“A wonderful profession,” she praises, nodding to herself. “Very wonderful indeed. And how old are you? I merely ask to confirm. There are so many miscreants nowadays. You can never be too sure.”
“I understand completely, Mrs. Rosehearts. I’m—” you almost falter, your real age on the tip of your tongue— “twenty-two. What about your son? You told me he’s also looking to get into the medical field?”
“Not looking. He will pursue medicine,” she corrects sternly. “Just like his mother.”
You swallow your disgust and try not to let it show so openly. Yikes… Talk about controlling.
Mrs. Rosehearts waves you onwards down the hall. “My Riddle will be leaving for his first year of college at the end of August. Though I’m certain he’s more than prepared, it never hurts to review.”
“Absolutely. So you’d like me to give him the talk?”
“Not just that. I’d like you to teach him well enough so that copulation and any other libidinous ideas are the last things on his mind. Stamp them out if you must. He’s to focus on his studies and make good decisions just as I raised him.”
Shouldn’t he already be familiar with this? Besides, he’s not a kid. Of course he’s going to think about sex. Most of us do when we’re horny.
But you can’t say that outright, so you settle for something vastly different.
“It’s important to stay on the right path and be responsible.”
Mrs. Rosehearts nods her agreement. Your stomach twists in discomfort.
On second thought, I don’t want to be upper middle class if these are the people I have to deal with. Is this guy going to have any chance to be social? To live his life? To make and learn from stupid mistakes? I bet he can’t wait to get out of here and go off to school.
“I apologize if this is rude in any way, but I just want to ensure I’ll be paid accordingly.”
“Of course. Good work must always be recognized and rewarded.” She stops at a door. “I cannot thank you enough for lending my Riddle your time. Teach him well.”
“I’ll do just that. You can count on it.”
Pleased with the level of maturity you’ve displayed, she raps her knuckles against the door and calls out, “Riddle, the tutor’s here.”
“Very well, Mother. I’ve just finished today’s readings, so you can send them in,” comes a muffled reply.
Today’s readings? you think, perplexed. Your gaze slides from the door to Mrs. Rosehearts. Does she have this guy doing summer school? That must suck! What a shitty way to spend your summer, cooped up inside filling out workbooks and stuff.
“I’ll be out running errands in the meantime. I trust you’ll be all right by yourself?”
“Perfectly all right,” you assure her, to which she hums and strides past you. You catch her perfume as she departs, and it reminds you of the types of scents worn by saggy, old ladies who have nothing better to do than sit around and complain about the state of the world and the way their children turned out.
In other words, a scent you associate with misery.
You wait until she’s out of sight before opening the door and stepping inside the study. There’s a mahogany desk in the center, and thick textbooks are piled high on either side. Beyond that, beside a big bay window with cream-colored curtains drawn to let in the sun, two large bookcases are packed with an array of tomes. At the front of the room, a blackboard has been built into a wooden frame. Chalk lines the ledge, situated within reach of an eraser. And sitting at the desk, his eyes glued to an open book, is a young man. A pair of round frames sit on the bridge of his nose, slipping ever so slightly down the slope of it when he peers at the page. He pushes them up when he finally lifts his head to greet you.
“Hey.” You wave awkwardly, easing the door shut.
He seems taken aback by your appearance. “Oh, yes. Right. Hello…”
Silence soon fills the space. You wonder if you should just save yourself this nonsensical waste of time and retreat.
“Sooo.” You fold your arms behind your back, rocking on your heels. “Your mother’s probably told you why I’m here.”
“I’m aware.” He shuts his book and stands from his seat. “My name is Riddle Rosehearts. A pleasure to meet you.”
You blink at his outstretched arm. “(Name). Likewise.” You grab his hand and shake firmly. 
So stiff…
“So where’re we starting? The basics? You want the whole ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ version or—”
Riddle scoffs and yanks his arm back. “I’m not a fool. I’ll have you know I’m well aware of sexual reproduction and what it entails.”
“You can call it sex. No one’s forcing you to be all biological,” you tease. His body goes rigid, and his face reddens in what you assume is flustered annoyance. “Anyways, since you’re not as brainless as Mother Dearest wants me to assume, I’ll just get into it.”
Riddle stares at you, his arms folding over his chest. He looks like he wants to argue, but instead he huffs and lowers into his chair.
Wordlessly, you undo the buttons on your blazer and shrug out of it. Your blouse goes next, untucked from your skirt and shucked. Riddle’s eyes are so wide they nearly pop out of his skull when he spies the white, lacy false collar that just barely covers your breasts. You’re about to step out of your pencil skirt next when Riddle clears his throat.
“W-What’re you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No?”
“I’m teaching you the birds and the bees.”
“N-Not in that outfit! S-Surely not…” He averts his eyes, crimson crawling up to his ears. “You’re practically nude!”
“That’s the point of lingerie, silly.” Your skirt pools around your ankles to reveal the rest of your frilly ensemble. A black-and-white cupless bra and crotchless panties set, both with plenty of ruffles, held together with a pair of garters. Still wearing matching stockings and your precious Mary Janes, you bend down to gather your discarded clothes. They’re set aside on a nearby chair. “You can look.”
“A-Absolutely not!” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut. “Y-You… You’re not decent. It’s rude to stare.”
“Come on. You got past anatomy diagrams just fine.”
Riddle opens and closes his mouth, speechless like a beached fish. Eventually, he manages to gather his coherency. “You’re a tutor, aren’t you? Where’s your dignity?”
“Nonexistent. I lied.” His head snaps over to view you, and he seems so scandalized by your admission that it’s almost comedic. “No way I’m studying to be an ob-gyn. I’m not even in school.”
“What?! But you—”
“It’s fine. I looked the part, didn’t I?” you joke, waving your hand about dismissively. “C’mon, mama’s boy. You’re going off to college. It’s nothing like those stuffy anatomy courses.”
Riddle tries and fails to look at anywhere that isn’t you, his eyes lingering on your chest to the space between your legs to the thigh garter and then to the ceiling. He’s so red you think he might explode.
“You’ve been with a girl before, yeah?”
With lips pursed in a tight line, he shakes his head.
“Sounds about right.”
“And you’re so experienced?”
You flash him a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry about it, mama’s boy.”
“I’m not a mama’s boy!”
“No? So you just let your mother treat you like a little baby at your grown age? You let her pick out sex tutors for you?”
“I—” He stops himself from speaking to mull over your questions. “If it’s what she deems necessary…”
“Because our biggest fear is sexually awkward you knocking up some girl at school, right?”
“I… I would never! Safe sex is—”
“Very important when you’re not trying to conceive. Good boy. See? You know your stuff.”
Riddle’s eyes narrow into vicious slits. You brush his scorching vitriol off and turn towards the board. Procuring a piece of chalk, you scrawl words on it: Birds and Bees 101. Wholly unamused, Riddle folds his arms across his chest.
“Your mother told me you’re gonna study medicine, so you’re probably familiar with everything already. And I’m sure you know all about the baby-making process on a biological level.” You whirl to face him, your tits bouncing with the peppy motion. Riddle swallows thickly. “But just to make sure… Let’s review.”
“R-Review? You don’t mean—”
“What’s this?” Your hands close around your tits. Riddle’s enchanted with the way you squeeze them—the way they depress under your fingers.
“Um… Ahem. Well… T-The breasts. They’re a type of glandular organ located on a woman’s chest, and they’re made up of lots of tissue and fat. There’s the mammary gland—that’s what produces milk. Oh, and then there are the areolas right around the nipples. Those are—”
“You can call them what they are.”
Riddle blinks, shaken from his studious spiel. “W-What?”
“You know the word, mama’s boy.”
He flusters. “Yes, I’m aware. But…”
“No harm in saying it.” You run your fingers over your nipples and giggle sweetly like a schoolgirl. “Go on…”
He inhales a deep breath. “They’re tits,” he mumbles, desultory. “Y-Your tits.”
You clap, beaming brightly. “Well done! Moving swiftly on…” You run your hands down the expanse of your stomach, stopping just beneath your navel. “What’s here?”
“Your womb. O-Otherwise known as the uterus. It’s where a baby grows over the course of nine months.”
“Mhm. Good job.”
He pushes his glasses up his nose, clearing his throat. “There’s more to your reproductive system than the uterus. Lots of parts. Important parts.”
“Right. But I don’t need to quiz you on it. You obviously know your stuff.”
Again, your fingers inch lower until they’re prodding at your folds. Riddle’s breath audibly hitches.
“And this?”
“Your vagina. It’s where—”
“What’s the other word?”
Riddle avoids your stare. “It sounds so vulgar…”
“So what?”
“S-So there ought to be a term that’s more…flattering.”
“Like what?” You approach him and, with the grace of a swan, lift your leg onto the desk to give him a better view of yourself. Shamelessly, you dip your fingers inside to spread yourself. “A guy called it the honeypot once. That pretty enough for you?”
Riddle squeaks and flinches back in his chair, his face now even redder than it was before. “T-That’s fine…”
“Really? I’d have thought the implication in that one is much dirtier than calling it a pussy.”
It takes him a moment to connect the dots, but once he does he gasps. “Ah. Then…”
You press inwards with your fingers, exaggerating a pornographic sigh. “Yeah?”
“Can I… M-May I call it your flower?”
“Sure.” His shoulders slacken with a flicker of relief. Your next words shatter that and his pride in one fell swoop. “That one’s not as special as you think, mama’s boy. I’ve heard it all—every type of flower you can think of.”
“Even a rose?”
“Especially a rose.” His lips twist into a disappointed moue. You chuckle and add, “You can call it a rose if you want. I don’t mind.”
Riddle meets your eyes then, searching them for the joke. When one doesn’t present itself, he relaxes. “All right. It’s a very pretty rose. Soft…”
“Aww. Thanks for saying so. It’s softer inside, y’know. See?” Spreading yourself wider, you angle your hips to bless him with the full view. “My fingers slide right in. Wanna guess why?”
“B-Because the vagina naturally—” He stops himself, his brows knitting together in contemplation. When he speaks next, it’s with a determined sort of conviction. “When you’re aroused, your rose produces a natural lubricant during sexual excitement.”
“Mhm. We call that ‘feeling good and getting wet,’ Dr. Rosehearts.”
“Yes. Y-Yes, I know that.” He eyes your pussy, a ravenous glimmer in his intelligent blue-greys. “And the wetness—it’s supposed to make it feel better. To make insertion easier, I mean.”
“Right again.” You ease your fingers out but not before thrusting them deeper just so he can hear the sinful sounds. They shimmer with your essence, enticing in a forbidden way. “What about the other parts? How about this spot here?” You brush against the hood of your clit, circling it slowly.
Riddle watches, hopelessly spellbound. “The clitoris.”
“I’m impressed. Most guys don’t know about it.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“But it’s your most sensitive erogenous zone! Just how uninformed does one have to be to neglect such a crucial part to your sexual anatomy?”
“Woefully uninformed, I’m afraid,” you mutter with a pout. Your fingertips drag your hood up to reveal that pretty, perky nub. “I think it’s dumb your mother wants me to talk you out of sex. You’re going to college. You’re an adult. You’re free to do whatever you want.”
“I…” Riddle frowns at that last line. “I have no interest in it. Besides, it’ll only hinder my studies. If I really need it, I’ll just masturbate. That’s healthy every now and then, and it doesn’t break any rules.”
“Really? No interest at all?” You shoot him a knowing look and run your tongue along your bottom lip. “Because your dick’s telling a different story.”
Riddle sputters, embarrassed, and squeezes his thighs together. His hands fly to cover his lap. “That’s because you’re—” He gazes at the floor. “Because you’re so pretty…”
Temporarily thrown off course, you gape at him. “What?”
“You’re beautiful.”
Gathering the remnants of your mask, you piece it together and laugh. “Not the first time I’ve heard someone describe it like that.”
“Not just your pussy.” Your gaze snaps to his. He smiles, impish. “I’m sure you know what I mean, Teacher.”
You exhale a short laugh. “Someone’s suddenly confident.”
Riddle rises from his seat. His fingers close around your wrist, gently pulling it away from your clit. He moves around the desk to stand in front of you and then, before you can comprehend his intentions, he’s pushing you down onto the desk. You yelp at the sudden change in position, your eyes blown wide when he presses his clothed hard-on against your bare pussy.
“You’re doing a poor job at dissuading me from wanting sex.”
“I wasn’t trying to.”
“Not in that outfit.” He grabs at the meat of your thighs and parts them. “If Mother knew you lied to her…”
You shake your head at him. “Please don’t tell her. I… I’m being serious. I need this money.”
“Desperately?”
Your lip curls into the beginning of a sneer. You hate feeling powerless more than anything, but the fiery glaze in his eyes is just as troubling. “I’m not going to beg.”
“I haven’t asked for that yet.”
You roll your eyes. “Not funny. I agreed to teach you about sex. We’re not actually doing it.”
“A shame.”
“You’ll find a nice girl at school. Don’t lose hope, mama’s boy. Lots of girls like the smart types who’ll give ’em a lecture on biology and stuff.”
“I think you misunderstand. I don’t want other girls.”
“Okay?”
“My mother’s paying for a tutor and I desire you, so unless you want to leave here as a lying cheat…” He hums, seeming awfully haughty to hold the only thing that tethers you to him above your head. “You need the money, right?”
“Yes. Sure, of course I do. But—” You shift on the desk, silently horrified when he rocks against you. “We can’t. Your mother—”
“Weren’t you the one saying I should live my life? That I have the freedom to do as I please?”
“That doesn’t mean—come on; listen to yourself. You can’t honestly think I’d fuck you.”
“No? And yet you came wearing this outfit, parading around the study with your pussy and tits out.” He glances past you at the window. “And you didn’t even bother to close the curtains… How brazen.”
Your attempt to jerk away from him is made in vain. He pins you down onto the desk, one hand squeezing your breast, while the other works to fish himself from his trousers. Now hard and leaking, his cock rests against your stomach. It’s not a terrible size. If anything, it’s perfect. Just right for your tastes.
“W-Wait! It’s not safe. You can’t—” You inhale sharply, bucking up towards his hand when he presses his thumb against your clit. Biting your lip, you fix him with a glower. “If you pay me… If you promise not to tell your mother—”
Riddle leans in close. “No one needs to know. No one but us.”
Your eyes flit about the room. With a withering sigh, you submit to his touch. “You’d better pull out in time.”
Riddle rolls his hips once and his cock drags along your folds. You hiss through your teeth at this new friction, a sinful delight more dizzying than any type of alcohol consumed in excess. “Do you want to be a mother?”
“What I want has nothing to do with you. I’m just—ooh—t-trying to survive. You wouldn’t know what that’s like, so don’t poke fun.”
Riddle hums, kneading your breast and rubbing you to the edge all at once. It’s so very obviously his first time, his zealous nature trumping any sort of experienced technique. It still does the trick, though, sending little bolts of pleasure up your spine.
“My mother wouldn’t just choose anyone. Her standards are very high.” His eyes flick to your face, drinking in your expression as it shifts with restrained bliss. “Somehow you’ve earned her approval.”
“Lying’ll do that.”
“Maybe.” His fingers replicate the motions you did earlier, though with a singular objective in mind. He’s so focused on succeeding in this endeavor that it makes him look so stiff. Under any other circumstances, you’d find it cute. “Mother always knows what’s best for me. Obviously you’ve met her criteria if she’s hired you.”
“Spoken like a true mama’s boy.” Seeing as this is now your unavoidable fate, you reach up to touch his shoulders. He jolts, his initial glare softening. You tamp down another giggle and massage up and along his arms. “Relax a little. Don’t rush so much.”
Or do. Let’s get this over with before your mother catches us.
Riddle traces two fingers along your labia. He’s quiet as he takes all of you in, and when he sinks three fingers into your gooey heat his breath catches in his throat. “Are you… D-Do you feel good?”
You reach for his unoccupied hand and guide it to your clit. Riddle understands the suggestion well enough, for he massages you slowly. Sucking in another breath, you nod at him.
“Not bad. You’re getting there.”
His neglected cock throbs at the praise, and so you wrap your fingers around it to give it the same amount of attention he’s currently giving you. Riddle grits his teeth at the contact.
“You can move your fingers. Don’t just focus on my clit.”
“Ah. Right. Of course,” he babbles dumbly, so swept up in everything that you are, so very eager to please.
You’re like a work of art pinned to his desk, a delicacy more forbidden than anything from the bakery. Sugary-sweet, adorned in skimpy ruche, you’re a temptation laid bare. Delicately, as if you might shatter, he curls his fingers to press up against your insides. Riddle watches you arch up towards him, your hand working his cock maddeningly slow and steady. It feels good—better than anything he could have ever imagined.
His eyes trail from your lips to your tits to your pussy stretched around his fingers. “Do you have any plans for this summer?”
The sudden question catches you off guard. You were expecting something related to sex, not whatever this new shred of curiosity is. Still, that doesn’t stop you from dragging him closer to the edge of ecstasy with every tug of your fist.
“Why?”
“I… I’d like to get to know you.”
“Me?”
“Of course. You’re more than a body to me.”
“How charming. I just—” You frown, unable to follow where he’s going with this. “Why?”
“Isn’t that obvious?” Even though he says it like it’s a fact, he looks shy. “I want to know you.”
“Uh… Yeah… Okay.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Not that… It’s just hard to imagine you having any girl friends.”
Riddle rolls his eyes and grinds his thumb into your clit. You bite back a whine as his fingers pump in and out of you. “Is that space open or closed?”
“You know which one.”
“You could be the one to close it.”
You meet his eyes then. For a short minute, the two of you hold each other’s stare. And then, breaking free from his hypnotic hold, you squeeze his length gently. He shudders, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks.
“And what about you? You excited for your first year?”
“Mm, yeah,” he murmurs, rutting into your hand. His fingers spread you open, scissoring gently.
“Just make sure to take time for yourself. Have fun. Live.”
“What did you do?”
“What do you mean?”
“When you were at school—how’d you manage?”
“I never went.” He opens his mouth to interject, but you beat him to it. “Couldn’t afford it.”
“Oh…”
“It’s fine! I’ve got plenty of experience in other things. I don’t need school for that.”
Riddle doesn’t believe your feigned optimism for a second. “If you could’ve gone, what would you have studied?”
You release his cock from your hold and reach up to pull his glasses from his face. Gingerly, minding the fragile frames, you set them aside. You lift your index to your lips, effortlessly coy. “It’s a secret.”
Before he can protest, you tap the hand at your cunt next. Riddle’s fingers, wet and shiny, slide out with a slick squelch. “I think you can do it.”
“What?”
“Go to school and study what you want. I believe in you.”
A wooden laugh tumbles from your lips. “Thanks for the encouragement, mama’s boy.”
“I have a name, you know.”
You smile easily. “You want me to call you something else? How does ‘good boy’ sound?”
Even though he tries not to let it show, his cock betrays his reticence with a small twitch. He’s an open book. Not wanting to give you the satisfaction, he lines himself up instead. Your fingers slip down to spread yourself for him.
“S-Slowly…” you whisper, stumbling over your breath as the head of his cock presses inside. Shallow at first before more inches fill you.
Riddle heaves a shaky gasp, his eyes wide with amazement. “I… I’m inside you…”
“How’s it feel?” “Warm. Soft. Snug. R-Really good.” He bows his head and digs his fingers into your hips. You think he has a dozen more adjectives on the tip of his tongue, each one just as fluffy as the last. “D-Do you feel good? It doesn’t hurt?”
“I’m fine.” You wind your legs around his waist to pull him closer. Your hands come to rest upon his shoulders once more. “Move your hips.”
Riddle does just that. His pace is awkward and inexperienced, every motion unsteady and jerky, as he searches for the right rhythm. He falls into it surprisingly fast, and it isn’t long until he’s smoothly rutting into you. You grab at his shirt, your breath coming in reedy huffs.
“Good. You—haa—good. You’re doing good.” Praise pours from your lips like a waterfall, plentiful and refreshing. It invigorates him, fills him with a confidence that wasn’t there before.
The soft slap of skin on skin fills the room. You keep your voice in check, lest you lose yourself and alert Mrs. Rosehearts. Riddle seems to be doing the same, even though it’s obvious he’s struggling much more than you are. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth to suppress his groans.
“You can touch me,” you whisper, petting his cheek. He blinks at you, his face aflame with a bright blush.
Nervously, he reaches for you and then pauses. Contemplation passes over his features. “What feels better? I want you to—no. I will make sure you cum. I’ve studied it, actually. I know how long it takes.”
“Look at you, doing your research like a diligent student. You want extra credit?”
Riddle chuckles and pinches your clit between two fingers. The rest of your teasing tapers off into a lewd squeal. “What was that about extra credit?”
“You’re awfully bold for your first time.”
“I’m not clueless.” His hips press inwards, plastering you to the desk, and his cock brushes that special spot within—the spot that has you seeing stars, your every nerve tingling with pleasure. You choke around a delighted gasp. Riddle, feeling victorious,  places his hand against your stomach, as if searching to feel his cock thrust up inside you. “Will I see you again after this?”
“If your mother wants me to come back and give you another pointless lecture on celibacy and safe sex, sure.”
“No, not that. Outside of this.”
“Don’t you have friends you’d rather hang out with?”
“I…do.”
“So spend time with them.”
Riddle doesn’t dignify that with a retort. With the way his eyes gloss over, you wonder just how many of these friends are within physical distance. The conversation stalls out into silence.
“You’ll make lots of friends at school. So many you’ll probably forget all about me.”
Riddle yanks your hips to meet his, driving himself deeper into your pussy.
“A-And you’ll find a nice girl to love if you’re looking for that kinda thing.”
“I am,” he confesses, breathless. “I want to get married and—mmh—start a family one day… I want to study law—become a lawyer… Mother thinks medicine suits me, but I can’t agree. Law is fascinating. It’s a perfect fit for me. Far better than medicine.”
You drag your thumb over your mouth, wetting it with your lipgloss, and then press it to his lips. The indirect kiss sends a tidal wave of arousal over him, darkening the tips of his ears in striking vermillion. You offer him a gentle smile while he recovers from that devastating flirt.
“I’ll make sure to hire you as my lawyer if I ever get into legal trouble.”
“You’d better not!” He laughs and shakes his head in amused disbelief. “But if you do, I’ll be there for you. Always.”
“Thanks, Riddle.”
Maybe I judged him too harshly. He’s not so bad.
In that stuffy study, just as the late afternoon gives way to red-orange streaked across a purple-pink sky, Riddle fucks you against that desk in all manner of rhythms. It’s when he finally picks up speed that you realize he’s nearing his end. You mirror his enjoyment, strung along by titillating touches and whispered words drenched in sweetness. You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve reached rapture alongside him, your pussy now brimming with cum. There’s so much it leaks out of your slick hole when he draws away, only to burrow his cock deeper to stuff it back inside.
The room reeks of sweat and sex. You think, if not your disheveled appearance, the smell will definitely tell Mrs. Rosehearts all she needs to know.
“I love you,” Riddle murmurs, and you’re about to ask him what he means—maybe he’s caught up in the moment and doesn’t realize what he’s saying—but then he lifts your legs up to fold you into a mating press. Coherent thoughts are knocked out of your head when he spills over, filling you up for the nth time that day. You shiver beneath him, eyes rolled back into your skull and tongue lolling out. You feel so stupid, fucked submissive by some inexperienced, upper middle class mama’s boy. Which isn’t even an insult with real heat to it, but in your hazy mind it’s all you can think of to describe him.
He grinds against you in the aftermath, panting from the exhilaration and adrenaline. 
“We need to…open the window,” you mutter, your heart thumping wildly in your chest.
Riddle admires your fucked-out expression in his sex-drunk daze. He slides out just as he feels himself going flaccid. Cum drips onto the desk below. Briefly, you struggle to recall whether or not you took your birth control today.
Something to consider later. Definitely not right now when you’re still clinging to the vestiges of your orgasm.
— — —
Mrs. Rosehearts knocks on the door, opening it to find Riddle sitting at his desk, jotting notes and occasionally pushing his glasses up. You’re standing at the blackboard, writing a list of the consequences of unplanned pregnancies. The room smells pleasantly of roses.
“Pardon my intrusion.”
You gaze at her and smile, wearing the clothes you arrived in. Nothing’s amiss. It’s perfect—thankfully. “Welcome back, Mrs. Rosehearts. We’re just about finished here.”
“Is that right? I assume all went well?”
“Very well. Your son’s a fast learner. Extremely talented.”
“I would expect nothing less.” She withdraws an envelope and hands it to you. “Thank you again for explaining it in realistic terms. Of course I doubt that my Riddle will act senselessly while he’s away, but as his mother I’m prone to worrying. Boys his age are so easily influenced.”
“O-Of course! That’s a very valid concern.” You force a chuckle.
If only she knew.
“Your pay is in that envelope. Should I ever require your assistance again, I’ll be sure to call.”
“Right… Thank you.” You hold it close to your chest. “I’m happy to help.”
You follow her out the door. She pauses to address Riddle. “Do continue reviewing your notes. We’ll convene for dinner in thirty minutes.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Mrs. Rosehearts walks you to the gate. “I wish you luck in your studies. If I don’t see you again at the clinic, have a pleasant summer.”
“Thank you. You as well.” You smile, fidgeting slightly. A bead of sweat tracks a path down your leg from between cum-spattered thighs.
Finally! With this I can pay my rent and still have enough for a treat from the bakery.
It’s worth it, or so you continue to tell yourself.
— — —
From the window, Riddle watches you make the walk to your car. He lifts his phone to fit you in the camera and snaps a secret photo. He continues to watch you until you’ve driven off and turned the corner, disappearing from his sight.
A tiny smile tugs at his lips.
Within his phone, put under a password lock, a special photo album exists. It’s filled with pictures taken from your social media—all of them. Every. Single. One. He’s resourceful when he wants to be. He can play the parody of a tech genius when he sets his sights on something.
And you’re just perfect.
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makeyoumine69 · 5 months
Text
My Dear Little Girl
PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: The Christmas gift you never imagined.
CONTAINS: Smut, fluff, unprotected sex (p in v), creampie, oral sex (f), tongue fucking, nipple play/sucking, body worship, praise kink, manhandling, dirty talk, pet names, marking, biting, established relationships, Service!Dom!Patrick Bateman himself.
WORDS: 3.3k
SONG REC: The Neighbourhood - Softcore
A/N: Merry Christmas guys, I'm so happy to have you all! 💞
LINKS: [MASTERLIST]
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There has always been something magical about Christmas, the holiday atmosphere, the sweet smell of tangerines and the clinking of champagne glasses. Yes, all of this became a standard set of things that people thought of when it came to Christmas. And you were probably one of those who believed in miracles that could happen during this magical time. At least you tried to believe it, but when Bateman told you that he had to go to his company Christmas party tonight, that actually brought you back down to Earth, because sometimes our expectations simply didn't match up with reality. And that was absolutely fine — those were the exact words you told Patrick when he called you a few hours ago, before he actually went to that party. 
Everything was fine.
You repeated this over and over again as you walked around your apartment in Manhattan, which was not as spacious as Bateman's, but you really loved it, especially now, with the beautiful Christmas tree that shone brightly with different illuminations when you turned off the lights. Since you knew Patrick wasn't coming, there was no point in waiting to open the bottle of the finest red wine he'd given you especially for this Christmas Eve. Sighing, you poured yourself a big glass of the red liquid, took some sweets and went back to your living room, where you stood at the wide window and looked at the breathtaking scenery of New York City in winter — this year it was quite snowy, which could not make you happy, even though you were going to spend this evening alone.
As the fireworks began to paint the midnight sky in ornaments of different shapes and colors, you couldn't take your eyes off this sight, as you were absolutely mesmerized. At first, you didn't even hear the doorbell ring, and only when it rang for the tenth time in a row did you realize that someone was at your front door, which actually scared you a bit because it was already quite late.
Your steady footsteps echoed off the walls of your hallway as you finally reached the door and looked through the peephole - the person you saw almost made you drop your glass to the floor. Damn, you should have left it in the living room.
Before you slowly opened the door, you coughed several times to clear your throat, and you also quickly fixed your hair — although your whole appearance could hardly be called fancy or party-like, as you wore your casual top and shorts set — the moment you and Bateman saw each other, you both remained silent, as if you were seeing each other for the first time.
"Well, hello (y/n)," he was the first to speak, with his absolutely haughty smile that always left you no choice but to be embarrassed. "I thought you were out walking somewhere."
"At this time?"
Patrick grinned even wider before glancing to the right, where a small commotion could be heard. "Some people here are already celebrating, you know."
Rolling your eyes, you stepped aside to let him enter. "What happened to the Christmas party?"
Your question made the man chuckle as he brushed some snow from his shoulders before taking off his beautiful dark blue coat. "Actually — nothing."
"Nothing?"
"That's exactly what I said." Patrick crooned and came closer to you, pressing his cold palm against your cheek, making you squirm and almost spilling wine on your shirt. "Uhh, you have such warm cheeks, honey."
"Okay, I'll ask it another way," you managed to regain your composure, even though Bateman seemed to be doing his best to make you lose your cool. "Why are you here?"
Pulling his hand away from your face, Bateman narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms after checking the time on his Rolex. "Were you expecting someone else?" 
And now his voice sounded as grumpy as if he was seriously asking that question, but instead of defending yourself, you just chuckled and took a sip of your drink.
"Oh yes, I was expecting a handsome man so we could drink this wonderful wine and... talk about music, the meaning of life and whether or not true love exists." You chirped quickly before taking his hand and dragging him into your living room before this conversation could lose its jokey undertone.
"That was," Bateman stammered when he finally realized what drink you were holding. "That was very smart. Have you ever thought of applying to a Broadway theater? I think they would love to offer you a job." His statement made you stop and turn to give him a deadly stare. "What? If you don't like theater, you can always try your luck in the circus."
"Patrick!" You scolded, fighting the urge to throw your drink right in his cheeky face. "You were the one who told me I would be alone today! And you didn't even suggest that I go with you!"
Having said that, you continued on your way to the living room, but without holding Patrick's hand as you left the man behind, though his expression was still as bright as the New York sky inscribed with fireworks. "Wait a minute, honey," Bateman muttered, following you. "You made it pretty clear that you don't want to go to parties like that, didn't you?"
"No, I didn't," you lied, bursting into a soft laugh, swirling the glass in your hand. "Oh, this wine tastes amazing, by the way. Would you like to try some?"
The sudden change of subject just made him smile cheekily, and before he could answer, Bateman tucked his hands into the pockets of his Amrani pants and leaned against the door to your living room. "I know this wine is good, that's why I gave it to you, sweetheart," his brilliant, full-toothed smile made your heartbeat faster and for a moment you even forgot what you were doing. "But yes, I would definitely have a drink."
"Whatever you say, Mr. Grinch." You mumbled playfully and went to the kitchen.
Fireworks began to explode just as you opened the shelf to grab a glass for him, thanking God you managed to hold it in your hand. The loud sound coming from the outside drowned out the approaching footsteps behind you, so when a pair of strong, big arms wrapped around your waist, you didn't even have time to get scared, you just gasped and fell right into Patrick's tight embrace.
"I got you," he whispered in your ear, sucking on your lobe tenderly, but with an undisguised desire for something more intimate. "You little liar." Bateman pulled you closer with a possessive grip as his hand carefully found its way to yours to take the glass and place it on the smooth surface of the kitchen counter. "We don't want any trouble, do we?"
Panting, you turned halfway to look up into his brown, mesmerizing eyes. "Patrick," you let him nuzzle your cheek, his perfect nose brushing against yours, and then Bateman kissed you softly on your plump lips. "Mmhm, I'm so glad you came, I've missed you and —"
"Shhh," he silenced you with his thumb, his glowing gaze never leaving your beautiful face. "I know, darling," another sensual kiss was planted on your neck this time, eliciting a muffled moan from your half-open mouth. "You don't have to say anything else, just relax..." Patrick nipped at your throat more eagerly, leaving marks here and there, while his hands drew invisible ornaments all along your inviting little form. "...and let me take care of you."
Dear Lord, it was impossible to think clearly, not when he was talking to you like that and his hot lips were caressing that exact spot behind your ear, driving you absolutely crazy and you didn't even notice the way your hips were grinding against his hard groin, spurring him on to go even further. Groaning softly into your ear, Bateman couldn't wait any longer, his pants getting too tight with every brush of your ass against his throbbing length. 
"Fuck, babe, you're so gorgeous," he purred in a low voice, leaving a trail of wet kisses along your shoulder, then moving lower to your shoulder blade, pulling up your top to taste your skin. "Do you know what I was thinking about during the party?" Bateman asked suddenly, tugging at the lace of your shorts, tantalizing you with his intentions. 
"N-no, tell me," you closed your eyes from the intoxicating pleasure of his thin fingers darting across your belly, but when they finally reached your heated core, you couldn't keep a loud whimper from breaking out of your dry lips. "Please, a-ahhh, tell me everything."
"Uh, look at you," he quickly licked the back of your neck before grabbing a handful of your soaked pussy. "Such a curious little kitty," Patrick huffed, suddenly pulling down your shorts with your wet panties, leaving you no chance to even react, not to mention struggling. "I was thinking about you," Bateman carefully lifted one of your legs to rest it on the kitchen counter, then crouched down behind you, leaving a sloppy kiss on your lower back. "About fucking you senseless, to be exact."
"Oh my God," you mewled, clinging to the surface of the counter as you felt his hot breath between your legs. "I was... I was thinking about that too."
Smirking to himself, Bateman gave your ass a few firm squeezes before finally touching you where you wanted him most, his warm tongue feeling so fucking amazing on your swollen clit. "Oh, that's interesting," he cooed to you, enjoying the way your body reacted to his every move, it was always amusing and turned him on, the knowledge of having such power over you was enough to make him rock hard. "Looks like you're just pretending to be shy. Now spread these beautiful legs wider for me," as you did so he used both hands to massage your buttocks before sliding his digits along your tight lower lips to get better access to your wet entrance. "Good girl, so fucking good for me."
With that, he plunged his tongue into your tight hole, trapping you in place as you jerked in his grasp from the intense sensation in your lower abdomen, but that was only the beginning as the next moment, Bateman returned his assault on your little bud, rubbing it in intense circular motions.
"A-awwww, Patrick," your sweet voice was music to his ears, especially when he made you do those high-pitched wails, each time his tongue sank deeper into your soft, inner channel. "Please...that feels so..."
"Good?" he chuckled before peppering your dripping slit with little kisses. "Jesus, you're so yummy, mmmh," Patrick lapped at your pussy like a starved man, gripping your ass tightly to remind you who was in charge here. "I'd like to stay between these legs forever if I could." 
By the time he was done eating you out, you could barely breathe as you balanced on the edge of falling into the oblivion of pure ecstasy, his chiseled face covered in your sweet flavor, which he immediately cleaned up with his tongue.
"Patrick, it felt so damn amazing..." you whimpered and turned around to see him undoing his expensive suit, his red tie already loosened, making him look even sexier, if it was possible to be hotter than he was. "Please."
With a sassy grin, Bateman unbuttoned his blue shirt, revealing an absolutely mouth-watering view of his sculpted chest and perfect abs. "Please what, honey?" He cupped your face before pulling you into a ravenous kiss, his tongue swirling shamelessly around yours, making you moan at how heavenly he kissed you. "Use your words, make me proud of how bold you are."
A brisk unzipping sound hit you like a whip, giving you a strange feeling of liberation and excitement. "I want you, all of you. Whatever you will give me, I'll take gladly."
You could see his nostrils flaring with each word, as if you were a moth to a flame. Biting his lower lip, the man came closer just to pick you up as if you weighed nothing, and he walked into your bedroom, where the beautiful garlands on the window shone with all the colors of the rainbow, making the whole atmosphere truly magical, especially with the lights off.
Bateman didn't like it at first, but when he saw your childishly happy face, he gently placed you on the bed, towering over you like a mountain. "Lovely here."
"You like it?" Your question forced him to frown in irritation, but he just pecked your temple and shamelessly removed your top, leaving you completely bare before his hungry eyes. "I spent a lot of time decorating it."
Smiling ironically, Patrick placed a reassuring kiss on your temple before he removed the last of his clothes and you finally felt his soft skin against yours, you couldn't help but hook your hands and legs around him like a vine. "I like it." Of course, he didn't, you knew that, but it didn't matter because now you two belonged to each other, both physically and mentally. "C'mere, babygirl," Bateman suddenly sat down on the bed and invited you to get on top of him. "Today we're going to try something new. Do you trust me?"
Breathing heavily, you nodded, and the next thing you knew his thick cock was sliding along your wet folds as he held you tightly by your waist, manhandling you with such ease as if you were a feather. With a longing growl, the man pressed you closer to his strong body so he could graze your collarbone and play with your engorged nipples as he literally buried his face between your breasts, squeezing them with both hands.
"Mhhm, Patty!" You moaned as he sucked on two of your little peaks at once, his leaky tip already prodding at your dripping opening as Patrick decided to test the patience of both of you. "Please, oh-please, fuck me, please, fuck...fuck me!" 
Bateman snickered against your neck, sending little tickles that made you smile, and he couldn't stop himself from squeezing your cheeks as you looked so fucking cute and sinful right now. "Uh, I'll give you more than that."
After that, he carefully grabbed you by the back of your neck and slowly lowered you down onto his beefy dick, the second your bodies finally connected, you both let out loud moans and held each other tighter as if your lives depended on it.
"Mmhm-fuck," the man had to close his eyes from the way your pussy was clinging to his huge cock, encompassing it so tightly that you both saw stars as Patrick supported your bobbing movements, holding your hips in his big palms and rocking his own towards yours. "You feel...f-fucking amazing!"
"I love you, I love you, Patty!" you cried out desperately, looping your hands around his neck to pull him closer as your bodies intertwined like snakes, each move bringing so much pleasure as he could fuck you so deeply and lustfully in this position. "Please, c-cum inside me!"
Your words made his eyes open wide and then you heard a low, guttural growl as Bateman suddenly pushed you down, forcing you to lie on your back and lift your legs to press them against his broad chest as he began to pound harder, rolling his hips to stimulate your G-spot.
"Is that what my dear girl wants, huh?" The man asked, mesmerized by the sight of your bouncing breasts, the lewd sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling your bedroom, making you scream shamelessly in pure bliss as his swollen tip brushed relentlessly against your cervix, stimulating you in a way that could bring you to climax without even touching your clit. "'C'mon honey, milk my dick and I'll give you my cum." In addition to his dirty talk, Patrick pecked your ankle as gently as he could — on the verge of a frenzy, he could just ravish you until you couldn't move, but right now he was trying his best to focus on your release. "Do it for me, sweetheart, cum around my dick like a good girl!"
Creasing the sheets, you threw your head back onto the pillows from the pulsating sensation in your lower body. "Pat-Patty! A-aaahhh—" You choked on your own moan, writhing erratically around the bed, and only his strong arms managed to hold you in place as Bateman was aware that you were about to fall off the fucking bed.
"That's it, mhm," Patrick watched you attentively, relishing the way your eyebrows knit together from how hard you cum on his fat dick, your eyes closed and your lips frozen in a silent moan. "So fucking gorgeous, so fucking...mm-so fucking tight, fuck!"
Bateman shifted his position again, covering you from above, transferring his weight to his sturdy arms as he rammed into you like a jackhammer, you could feel his heavy balls slapping against your cunt in the obscenest way possible. And then the man finally collapsed inside you, painting your velvety walls white, pinning you down with his huge frame and biting your shoulder like an animal claiming its prey. You couldn't move and you were barely breathing, but you took him completely, until his hot liquid began to flow from your ruined pussy, flooding the sheets beneath you. Spent and exhausted, Patrick kissed and licked the mark he had just left before pressing his forehead against yours, holding you tightly in his arms and you knew he would never let you go as you were born to be his.
Moments later, you were standing next to the Christmas tree in your living room, Bateman sitting on the small couch, finally having his drink, but not wine as he managed to find some whiskey in your minibar. 
"Next time, let's put a Christmas tree in your apartment!" You suddenly blurted out, clapping your hands.
"No, don't even think about it, kitten," Patrick almost choked on his drink and coughed several times. "Oh, honey, don't make that face."
Damn, although you knew that Bateman didn't like all that stuff, it made you sad anyway, so the man had no choice but to comfort you here and now, before the situation got worse.
After putting the glass on the nearby coffee table, he stood up and approached you from behind, hugging you, but you were still pouting. "Listen," he whispered into your ear. "I have something for you, something special that will make you forget everything."
"What is it?" 
Thrilled, Patrick slipped into the pocket of his robe, which he had brought especially to your place because he couldn't stand any other robes but his own, and took out a small, velvety box. "And what do you think it is?"
As soon as you turned around and saw this little box, something in your mind flashed like fireworks. "Oh my God, Patrick..." you covered your face in your hands from shock. "Is that..."
Bateman opened the box in one swift motion, revealing a magnificent ring that shone brightly, reflecting the illumination of the Christmas tree. "I want us to meet next Christmas in a different status," he murmured, taking the ring in his hand. "You know what I mean?" Tears welled in your eyes as you couldn't believe this was happening. "Will you be my wife, (y/n)?"
At first, you couldn't say anything because you were shocked, but then you managed to whisper. "Yes, yes, of course I will," and then you snuggled into his warm embrace, allowing him to put the ring on your finger and kiss your forehead, and this kiss was different because now you were his fiancée. "I love you, I love you so much!"
With a bright grin on his flawless face, Patrick rested his chin on the top of your head and stroked your hair. "Merry Christmas, my dear little girl. I love you too."
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P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!
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mcmansionhell · 2 years
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a fine selection of bonker facades from the DC suburbs
Howdy folks! In honor of Halloween, here are some of the scariest houses currently for sale in the ever-cursed suburbs of Washington, DC. It's been awhile since I checked in on this particular hotspot, and once more, it did not disappoint.
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I'll just get this one out of the way. Long-time McMansion Hell-heads are well aware of this monster estate in Potomac, MD, once allegedly owned by a particular professional athlete who will not be named, because the house should suck on its own merit. The only nice thing I can say about this house is that the designers kept the materials and colors consistent, which adds some unity to what is, in reality, five turrets in a trench coat.
Some things, the economists tell us, are too big to fail. This is not one of them. Let's move on.
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Many McMansions exist to mock the concept of architectural consistency and historical continuity. This is one of them. About every single type of expanded second-story window elaboration exists here: bay window, covered balcony, juliet balcony. None of them work. The house can't decide if its 19th century eclecticism or tony DC Georgian/Federal cocktail. The random cupola merely adds insult to injury.
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I don't know where realtors learned how to do photoshop, but whoever taught them should have their Adobe licenses revoked. There's a certain type of McMansion I call a "hat house" - which is exactly what it sounds like. It's a house with multiple bays or masses and each has its own special hat. This is one of the most egregious examples because all of the hats are different shapes and scales. Not even the most Disney Theme Park pink sky and fairy lighting can mitigate the controlling aesthetic influence of hät.
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No compilation of Bad Facades would be complete without at least one Frankentudor™. Rich people in America really like to harken back to the days of feudalism, yet uglier, more drab, and using materials mostly derived from petrochemicals. The lighting is not helping this house, which is about as gloomy, hulking, and bloated as they come.
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I have some fondness for houses that derive new, inventive forms of being ugly. The spread eagle McMansion is one of them, two oblique wings with no real core. A corner lot specimen. This one is especially weird, with the quadruple portholes, the windowless bays, the mall foyer, and the hipped roof that's not quite clipped, complete with tacked on gables. Kind of neat, sad to say.
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I know most of you won't agree, but I actually believe this is the worst McMansion of the set. The absolute banality of it, the out-of-proportion everything, the compound-like demeanor, the nonsensical spacing of the mind-numbingly identical windows. The most infuriating part is that whoever designed this had some kind of order, continuity, proportion in mind and just failed utterly at it, like Sideshow Bob stepping on all those rakes. I hate it!!!!
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When rich people try to make overly-inflated temples to their dumb piles of money, it's deeply satisfying when they end up looking like this house, which is just a pile of roof and wall tacked on to the worst proportioned portico imaginable. Classic McMansion Hubris. Let us all laugh.
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Now we're getting into the more eldritch horror part of the list. Some houses make me wonder if I have the same set of eyeballs and conceptions of what "a house" looks like as other people. This one is playing dress up games with foam stickers. It looks like Steve's shirt from Blues Clues. It abuses the prairie muntins, which is an insult to my chosen hometown of Chicago, Illinois. Bad house.
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Not enough time is devoted on this blog to bad modernism, though it would be rather generous to call this house modern. It's more like postmodernism trying to remember what modernism looked like and tripping down a flight of stairs collecting random masses and windows on the way down. Houses like this give modern architecture a bad name. It's borderline libel. Also it looks like it was made out of cardboard.
This brings us to our final, and objectively worst house:
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I don't even know what to say about this freak of architecture. I don't know how it came together or why. I don't know what it wants or even pretends to do. It is a horrorshow. Gables protruding from random places, stealth roof fragments, windows too small for the walls they're embedded in, a weird cathedral-like entrance, the mosquito-infested pond, the worst example of realtor sky I've ever seen, all of it is terrible. It's haunted. Trick or Treat, but without the treat.
Anyway, that does it for this installment. If you're curious about more McModern badness, this month's Patreon bonus post will be to your liking!
Happy Halloween and Día de Los Muertos!
If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including extra posts and livestreams.
Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar, because media work is especially recession-vulnerable.
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xveenusx · 1 year
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Hate
Paring(s): Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: Two people hate how much they love each other
Authors note: get ready for some filty smut and toxic relationship Rafe
Rating: smut, 18+, mdni
Warnings: explicit mature themes, choking, spitting, hitting, dirty talk, etc.
Part 2: Love
_________________
“Oh I hate that man. I hate that man. But oh, cara Mia, how I love him.”
This can’t be happening.
Was the mantra that played in my head on a constant loop as I stared at the red dress that hung neatly in the closet.
Pougelandia seemed like a dream at this point. A beautiful dream that’s been shattered by the ever waking nightmare I’m currently in.
My heart lurched in my chest as I thought about my friends. I should have listened when John B and Pope told me to leave the pilot but I couldn’t. I couldn’t let that be another thing that happened to me.
Reaching my hand out, I let my fingers graze the fabric of the dress. It slipped through my fingers easily, the fabric clearly being the most expensive thing I’ve ever worn.
A shudder ran through me as I tugged the dress off the hanger and slipped it on. Pushing the hair out of my face, I let out a shaky breath and forced myself out of the room.
I wiped my hands nervously on the gorgeous ruby dress, swallowing down the hysterical need to cry.
My eyes danced along the gorgeous house that was my prison. Wood stained columns decorated each room with what I assumed were valuable artifacts on display. The wooden arch entry way had stained glass windows that caused hundreds of colored reflections to sparkle along each and every room.
Sliding my hand along the wooden railing on the stairs, I slowly made my descent, hoping that the knocking of my knees wasn’t noticeable. A maid greeted me at the bottom of the stairs, her smile soft as she held out her hand in the direction she wanted me to go.
“This way, miss.”
I tried to send a smile back but I’m sure it came off as more of a grimace.
“Would you like a drink?” She asked, stopping at a small bar cart to the right of an open door.
“Yes, thank you.” I cleared out, stumbling over my words.
I needed several drinks just to get through this.
The maid said nothing and simply placed a glass tumbler in my hand filled with dark liquor. I brought it to my lips and took a huge gulp, relishing in the burning sensation that wrapped around me like a warm blanket.
It seemed to take the edge off and made the next few steps easier.
She motions for me to enter the room beside the bar cart and so I do, my fingers tightening on the glass.
Stepping in, I hovered by the door, taking in the room in front of me, and saw no one. Taking another drink from my glass, I shuffled further in at the sound of movement coming from the other side that was obstructed by the door.
A towering figure stood on the other side of the room, his back facing me as he made himself a drink.
My stomach tightened for some reason.
I took stock of just how well dressed this man was. His navy blue suit seemed to be tailored to fit his tall build and reeked of wealth. He was at least six foot and had an air of superiority around him. His presence almost seemed overpowering simply due to his height.
Tingles shot up my spine as something felt familiar about him.
Only one person has ever made me feel this way.
Pushing back the thought, I cleared my throat. “Um, excuse me?”
The figure turns around and our eyes connect instantly causing all air to leave my body.
His ice blue eyes widen for a fraction of a second before settling on my face. A soul penetrating stare that shook me to the core.
My grip on the glass loosened causing it to fall and shatter into thousands of pieces. Similar to how he left my heart.
Rafe Cameron.
He looked the same yet different. The eyes that I used to stare in night after night were intense and brilliant. They held hope for the future and were ironically innocent.
The man in front of me was different. His gaze had now hardened as though he experienced something dark. Those Arctic blue orbs were enigmatic and cold, no sign of innocence or hope.
The dark dirty blonde strands I once threaded my fingers in as an anchor while he kneeled in between my legs and drove me to ecstasy were gone. His hair was nearly buzzed down to the scalp giving him the appearance of a hard and refined grown man.
The once party hungry frat boy was gone, replaced by something much darker. Much colder.
The air around us was electrifying, almost to the point of suffocation.
Rafe stared down at me, his piercing blue eyes never leaving mine, not one word being said.
But I knew exactly what he was thinking, because I was thinking it too.
Memory after memory played in my head causing my cheeks to turn hot. Him taking me on the counter with my legs thrown over his shoulder. Me bent over his bike as he ruthlessly pounds into me from behind, my long hair wrapped around his hand. Rafe pinning me down by the throat as he fucks me savagely on the top deck of the yacht.
I was practically vibrating at this point, a flash of heat hitting my center, throbbing and aching for relief.
I dragged my eyes away, needing to break the connection, ignoring the familiar rush of those intoxicatingly intense feelings that always came attached to Rafe Cameron.
A gold glint catches my eyes and for the second time today, I’m rendered motionless. Speechless.
On his wrist, familiar gold cuff links decorated the sleeved cuff on his shirt.
One’s that had my initials.
I couldn’t hide the pained look I knew painted my face. Of course, he would be behind this. There was no line he wouldn’t cross in order to get what he wanted.
I learned that the hard way. The only thing that mattered to Rafe was the gold and the approval of his psychotic father. That fact was just as painful to swallow as the first time.
Months later and he still managed to thoroughly destroy whatever pieces of me exist.
I hate this man. I hate this man.
My feet moved on their own accord stopping only when we’re less than a foot apart.
My hands clenched into fists and something inside of me snapped. Slamming them down on his chest, I let out a shout and shoved him as hard as I could.
I barreled into Rafe again, my hands hitting his chest as hard as I can but he doesn’t move an inch. His tall frame remained in place no matter how hard I tried to shove and hit him.
Frustrated, angry tears gathered in my eyes as I let out a distressed noise. “I knew you and Ward were behind this shit.”
Something flickered in his eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly and was replaced by a cold dark look.
“Be fucking serious. Are you trying to weasel in on my deal right now? Is that what’s going on?” He spat, his eyes narrowed as he bent down to my height until his face filled my vision.
An empty laugh escaped my lips as I shook my head at him with disgust,” Yes, I decided to fly to Barbados to come and ruin your deal because the entire world revolves around you.”
Rafe let out a harsh breath that made me close my eyes tightly. His entire smell engulfed my senses.
Peppermint, apples and expensive cologne whirl through my nose as my defective and traitorous heart pounds loudly in my chest.
“I wondered if your little reunion would cause sparks, you know.” A voice from the connected room mused.
At the sight of an unfamiliar figure, Rafe moved in front of me quickly blocking my view of the man. He made a noise and tucked me behind him.
Butterflies erupt at the move, pounding away at the wall I built around my heart. I peaked under his arm and saw a short man in a suit. His olive tone skin complementing his dark hair and groomed beard that decorated his face.
“Who are you?” Rafe asked, his stance never wavering.
I dug my nails into his suit jacket as I waited for a response.
“My name is Carlos Singh. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” He answered, buttoning the front of his jacket.
“I apologize for the rough tactics in bringing you here. Please come, I don’t bite.” Singh gestured to the seating area, an insincere smile on his face.
Stepping around Rafe, I cautiously look around the room before turning my gaze to him.
He subtly shook his head but I chose to ignore it and settle myself on the couch.
He didn’t get to tell me what to do.
Rafe’s eyes darkend as he muttered something harshly under his breath. Rubbing his head, he moves to where I sat angling his body slightly in between Singh and I.
“Rough tactics? What about me?”
“Ah, yes Mr. Cameron. False pretenses.”
Singh goes on a tangent describing some sort of treasure that I have no interest in and by the blank look on Rafe’s face I can see he feels the same.
“I didn’t listen to a word you said, okay? How much longer you gonna keep philosophizing?”
His words were oozing with boredom as he took a seat next to me. The warmth of his body near me made me jolt.
Clearing my throat, I stood up and took a seat in a single chair, ignoring the chuckle from Singh and the glare from Rafe.
“You’re rather direct, aren’t you Mr. Cameron?” The look on Singh’s face was threatening.
My stomach dipped with nerves at the unspoken threat in his words. I opened my mouth, hoping to distract Singh,” What do you want with me and my friends?”
“There’s a diary. The diary of Denmark Tanny. It leads to the cross of Santa Domingo and since you and your friends had the cross, you must have the diary.”
That’s what this was about?
I could already see the question in Rafe’s eyes as he zeroed in on my face. I kept my face blank, knowing despite my desire to, I couldn't tell him anything.
Tearing my gaze away from his, I told Singh,” We don’t have the diary. I dont know where it is.”
Rafe’s face hardened. His jaw clenched in anger as he looked away from me. It was unsettling.
Singh was clearly displeased as he called out for guards, tsking under his breath. Two armed guards come into the room and stall in my direction making me fumble backwards.
Rafe shielded me immediately holding up his hand,” Don’t touch her. We’re cooperating.”
The men gesture the desired direction with their guns causing Rafe’s hand to tighten its grip on mine. Singh follows closely behind clicking his tongue against his teeth.
We’re forced into a bedroom. A bedroom only sporting one bed.
No. No. No.
“Please enjoy your stay. I suggest you convince her to tell you where the diary is. You should know that I am not so forgiving nor am I patient.”
The click of a lock had me turning around in panic. Rafe moved instantly, tugging the handle harshly but it didn’t give. He hit the door in frustration letting out a curse.
I was wrong. This was the worse thing to ever happen. Rafe and I being locked together, in a room, alone.
“Try again.” I demanded, my voice raising in hysteria.
“I already did. It’s locked from the outside.”
Pushing him out of the way, I called out while banging on the door. My grip tightly on the handle as I tried to pull it open.
My calls came unanswered. Despair filled every cell in body as I took in the reality of the situation. Resting my head on the cool surface of the door, I breathed in deeply willing myself to calm down.
Warmth appeared behind me. “Are you okay-“
I pushed myself off the door and walked around him, ignoring his words entirely. I could do this. My friends will be here soon and I just had to last until then.
I couldn’t let Rafe Cameron break me for the fourth time. Not when I’ve finally glued all the pieces back together.
At the sound of a vehicle approaching and shouts of terror, I moved to the window pulling the curtains back. Rafe appeared next to me as we both peered outside through the glass.
One man in a beige bullet proof vest is dragging a man against his will while another strapped with a gun followed close behind.
“Who the hell is that guy?”
Recognition filled me as I stare at the guy being dragged away. “I know him. It’s Jimmy Portis.”
At my words, Rafe’s face turned to mine. I could feel him staring at me, wanting to know more but I couldn’t pull away from the scene in front of me.
“He was trying to help us.”
Seconds later, Singh appeared with a smug smile and a wave. Reaching behind his waist, he pulled out a gun.
My fingers tightened on the curtain.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Rafe said, his palm landing on my stomach and pushed me back gently, away from the window.
“Rafe-“ My words are cut off.
“No.” His tone left no room for negotiation as he placed himself in front of me, as though he was attempting to shield me from what happened next.
A gun shot goes off.
A shriek passes my lips as I bring my shaky hands to my mouth. Rafe didn’t even flinch. Instead, he licked his lips and turned to me.
“This diary. Hey, no bullshit,” He warns, “Dont bullshit me, Okay? Do you have it?”
His dark eyes searched mine and I fought the urge to give in. He was like a tsunami that constantly threatened to drag me under. Every sense filled with him.
I used to give him everything. Until, he couldn’t do that same. I knew, I knew I couldn’t tell him the truth.
“No.”
“Your lying.” Yes.
“Let’s both stop pretending that you know everything about me.” I deflected, as I pushed him away from me.
Distance, I repeated in my head. Get some distance.
“Baby, we both know I do. The only one pretending here is you,” his lips widened in a harsh smile, one that threatened to eat me alive, “Now, tell me about the diary.”
“We don’t have it. Do I have to add deaf to the list along with psychotic and delusional?”
Rafe takes a threatening step forward causing me to take a step back. “I’m gonna ignore that comment.”
“Still doesn’t change the fact that we don’t have it.”
His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Your lying right now. You want to know how I know?”
Shoving his hands in his pants pockets, Rafe steps in front of me swarming me from all sides. “You pick at the skin on your nails.”
Closing my eyes briefly, my stomach sinks because he was right.
I hated it him. I hated how he knew every little thing about me. I hated how he weaponized my reaction towards him again and again.
“Step. Back.”
“No, your useless friends put you in this situation. I’m trying to get us out. Where’s the diary?”
At the mention of my friends, a fire of anger ignited inside me. “Don’t talk about them like that. At least, I have them. Who do you have? Barry?”
“Have them? Where were they when you got taken? Look where we fucking are.”
“They didn’t have a choice. It was my fault anyway.”
“Why are you defending them?” Rafe asked me, staring at me with such exasperation. “Because of them, you’ve been in so much shit. Look where you are right now. They’re low lives. Stop being delusional.“
“And what,” My voice shook with anger, “be with you instead? You think your such an upgrade? Last time I checked you’re a frat boy with a coke addiction riddled with daddy issues. How could you be any better than them?”
I hated the person he turned me into. I never liked hurting anyone and here I was hurling every insult I could at him. I was consumed with the need to hurt him just as bad as he hurt me.
“Is this some knew kind of foreplay? Because, if it is, it’s working.”
“That’s what you got from that?”
He sends me a bored look. “What else could it mean?”
“Um, exactly what I said.”
“I don’t get it.” Rafe had the audacity to actually look confused.
“You’re crazy. You have to be.”
He nodded his head like this mad perfect sense. “Well, yeah. For you. I thought I made that clear.”
“When? You were too busy lying to me.”
“This again?”
“Just sit down and shut up.” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’re already giving me a migraine.”
“I knew I still had an effect on you.”
“Not a good one.”
“I’ll take what I can get.”
Ignoring his pretty words and charm was the only way I could survive this.
“Rafe, just stay on the side of the room and I’ll stay on mine. My friends are going to come so until then just keep to your damn side.”
He clenched and unclenched his hands as he regarded me. “And if they don’t come?”
“They will.” God, I hope so.
“So much faith in them.” Rafe said quietly, shaking his head in my direction before looking away. “Where’s your faith in me?”
“Gone. Kind of like your soul.”
I felt my pulse in my throat. His eyes turned brutal as he slowly traced his thumb along his bottom lip, almost assessing what he was going to do next.
He looked like he was going to eat me alive.
The ache in between my legs ignited again, the pulse almost unbearable.
“I can protect you.”
“Protect me? All you’ve ever done is hurt me.”
Rafe stared at me with humor as his eyebrows raised expectantly, “The only time I ever hurt you, is when you asked for it.”
Heat flashed into my cheeks. Flashbacks of my pleas for him to choke me and punish me hit me like a truck.
A frustrated noise left my lips as I grabbed a book from the dresser and threw it in his direction. “I hate you.”
No I don’t.
The humor left his blue eyes instantly as he clenched his jaw. “Watch it.”
“No. You think you can protect me?” I asked incredulously, my hands finding a remote next and I throw it at his head. “We’re in the same fucking room, Rafe.”
He side stepped the remote I threw at him easily, shaking his head. He begins to unbutton his suit jacket, his piercing blue eyes brewing a storm.
“I -“ I was momentarily distracted by him removing clothes. “Stop taking off your clothes.”
“You don’t hate me.”
He was insane. That’s what he chose to focus on?
“I do. I hate you. How many times do I have to say it for you to get it through your thick skull?”
The tension between us was stifling almost as thought there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room.
“Stop fucking saying that.” Rafe barked, his words rough dropping with a warning.
He undid his cuff links slowly, almost threateningly, like it was a count down for what’s to come.
My eyes narrowed at his threat. Anger and lust consumed me as I tried to fight off the urge to kiss him. Resentment wrapped around my throat.
He takes a step forward.
“Or what?” Gulping, I took a step back. My eyes looking around for something else to throw at his gorgeous face. “Are you gonna tell me you love me? And you think I’ll believe you?”
“I never lied about that.” His tone was almost condescending as he took another steps towards me.
My heart dipped as my blood ran hot and cold. Indecision filled me. This is what he does. He surrounded me, confused me, cornered me until all I could see was him.
“Stop trying to confuse me.” Another step back.
The way he looked at me sucked all the air out of my lungs. His eyes regarded me with such desire it burned me alive. I couldn’t look away.
“You know me. Look at me and tell me I’m lying.” Rafe’s words demanding yet soft.
Blue. His eyes fucking haunted me. I felt myself slowly giving way to the enigma that was Rafe Cameron.
Forcing my eyes away, I spotted a clock on the nightstand by the bed. I reached for it just as he moved towards me.
I pegged it at him. We both watched as the clock hit his chest with a thud and fell onto the floor with a plop.
“I know you enough to know that what you say doesn’t matter.”
He looked like he wanted to kiss me or strangle me. Probably the latter since he was a psychopath.
“This monologue is getting a bit repetitive, don’t you think?”
My gut twisted. “I hate you.”
I did sound like a broken record, but it was the only phrase that seemed to get a reaction out of him.
It was the only weapon I had as every other resolve I had was slowly deteriorating before me.
“Watch your mouth,” Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Don’t say it again.”
A distressed breathe left my lips. I wasn’t winning this deadly game of tug of war.
“Why?” I wanted to break him. I wanted him us to have matching scars. His soul didn’t get to be left unscathed while mine was covered in wounds that didn’t heal.
He was closing in on me at this point. His sleeves now rolled up to his elbows and the first few buttons undone revealing the gold necklace I gave him.
Why was he doing this to me?
My fingers grasp the decorative pillow from the bed as I target his head. “Because you know it’s true. At least the people in my life love me. They didn’t pretend to love me to find the gold. They didn’t leave me repeatedly.”
Slapping the pillow out of the way, he stood two feet away from me. “Leave you? You left me.” The words held no emotion, just cold hard facts.
I bring my hand to the side of my face as I shake my head at him in disbelief.
“You chose the gold. Not once, not twice, but three fucking times. You chose to lie to me. Again and again. So I may have left, but the minute you chose the gold over me was the moment you decided I was worth losing.”
I remember the last time I saw him clear as day. The cross was being pulled up by Pope on the crane when I saw a figure with a gun take off running in his direction.
My whole body froze as I took in the person behind the gun. We both regarded each other with shock. I felt my heart break for a second time as I realized how he got the cross.
His guilt ridden eyes stared at me as I realized just how stupid I had been. I begged him to come with us. To leave the cross that was about to fall off the boat and come with me. Tears were streaming down my face as I screamed for him to leave.
To finally choose me. To love me the way I loved him.
It felt like hours when he finally made his decision. And, it wasn’t me. Rafe took off running towards the chain that was tied to the cross as he screamed for help from the crew.
My heart broke for the third and final time. I don’t think I could survive a fourth.
A touch to my face pulled me out of the painful memory. Rafe’s in front of me now, towering above my dainty figure, his fingers grazing my cheek.
“Can you please just let me explain?”
Jerking back, I slapped his hand away from my face.
His eyes flashed,”What? Now I can’t even touch you.”
“I loved you.” I whispered the words causing him to tense. “But, I’m done. I’m so completely and utterly done with you.”
Anger radiated off him in waves and the sudden urge to step back overcame me. Only, when I did the back of my thighs hit the bed.
He’d cornered me into the direction of the bed.
“Loved?” He murmured, almost to himself.
Rafe runs his hand across his jaw, analyzing me slowly. Seeming to have made up his mind, he envelops my very space with his hand threading itself tightly within the roots of my hair at the nape of my neck.
Bending down to my height, his breath fans along my lips causing heat to surge through out my body. He was addictive.
“Just to be crystal fucking clear. You won’t ever be over me. This will never be over.”
Dread sat in my stomach like lead at the truth in his words. He knew it, I knew it. .
My eyes burned. My heart ached. All I knew, in that very moment, was I hated how much I loved him.
He was inevitable. The way we consumed each other was nothing short of catastrophic. We shined too bright that we burned each other.
“Don’t do this to me. Don’t you dare do this to me again.” I pleaded tearfully, begging for him to show an ounce of mercy.
Holding on to us was cruel. Rafe wasn’t going to change for me. He loved in his own way, but it was brutal, obsessive and mad. It was also intoxicating, intense, and painfully beautiful. It was too much.
I used to think I could handle it, because being with him was the only thing that made sense. He made me feel the sweetest high that sent me into a euphoric oblivion.
I thought my love was enough for him. Call me naive, but I wholeheartedly believed that I could help those broken parts of him heal. But Rafe was too broken. All the pieces of him I tried to carry in my arms only cut me in the process as I slowly bled out.
He had taken every piece of me with him. It was hard to tell where I ended and he began.
“Why are you wearing that necklace?” I asked him, the backs of my eyes burning. I needed him to say it. I needed him to tell me and actually mean it.
Rafe shook his head, his blue eyes were soul-wrenching. “You know why.”
My hands trembled as they connect with his shirt, griping the crisp material in desperation.
“Why are you wearing those cuff links?”
Why couldn’t he just say it?
When he didn’t respond to me, I felt the last bit of glue give way and my heart got devoured by grief.
I let go of his shirt. “You’re a coward. You’ve always been a coward.”
His eyes flickered with hurt but I didn’t care. Blind rage filled me and I pushed him. When he didn’t react, I did it again and again screaming out every morsel of pain that threatened to kill me.
It only lasted seconds. Rafe had enough and quickly caught both my wrists in his hands. His face was cruelly beautiful.
It mocked me.
“Calm down.” He ordered, his face a mask of cruel indifference. But, I knew him.
His eyes were filled with cold fury and by the slightly tremble from his body, I knew he was close to losing control.
“I fucking hate you.” I spat the words out vehemently. I watched as the words hit him square in the chest.
He sent me a wolffish grin. “I warned you.”
Rafe shoves me onto the bed trying to pin my squirming body down but I refuse to comply. I try to leverage my legs to buck his heavy body off of me but he only smacks my thigh causing me to suck in a breath.
“Let me go.” The heat of his body seared into me. He smelled like sin and regret.
“Stop fucking fighting me,” Rafe responded with a grunt.
I could feel light coat of sweat start to cover my body, the silk of the dress rubbed against my skin only making the throbbing worse. I kicked my leg out but my dress only slipped further up my body, my thigh now fully exposed.
Rafe’s eyes clocked the newly exposed skin. His distraction bought me enough time shove his shoulders back causing him to stagger.
Pulling my body up, I tried to crawl off the bed but shriek when familiar hands clamped onto my ankles and dragged me back down the bed.
“God, you asshole.”
He ignored me and straddled my hips, his legs pinning me in place. My heart pulsed against my rib cage.
“I’m the asshole? You’ve been throwing shit at me for the past ten minutes.”
Glaring at him, I jerk my arm free with the full intention of slapping him when Rafe catches my hand.
“Stop trying to hit me.” He growled, his patience gone. With rough hands, he grabbed both my wrists and pinned them above my head in one hand. The other gripped my chin tightly, forcing my eyes to his volatile memorizing blues.
“Now that I have your attention. Take it back.” Rafe breathed out harshly.
He waited for me to answer but the words never left my lips. Instead, my entire focus was on the rigid mass of muscles that were pressed against my body.
My dress had entirely pooled at my waist, the lace black thong I wore peaked out from under.
Rafe leaned down and moved his grip on my chin up slightly so my lips pursed out in a pout.
His swipe his tongue against my pouty lips before placing a soft kiss along them. “Take it back.”
The small act made my body feel like it was on fire and the desire to arch my back and beg for more was overwhelming.
The evidence of our struggle was resting hard against my stomach. Desire filled my mouth but I couldn’t let him see that. I tried to jerk my head out of his grasp but he tsked.
Maneuvering his body slightly, he rested himself in between my legs. Slowly reaching in between us, the tough calloused hand I loved having around my throat trailed along my thigh, curling around my knee and hooking it across his waist.
“Oh god…” I couldnt control the whimper that escaped me. My body was wired tight with anticipation at the familiar rush of want threatened to drown me.
His hand trailed back, the bits of his nails scraping along my naked thighs. They catch the waistband of my thong where he teasingly slips a finger underneath.
“I can feel how hot your pussy is.” The words were rough against my lips. “We’re so good together. All you have to do, is take it back.”
“No.” Yes.
His chuckle was throaty almost hoarse as he trembled with barely there restraint. “That fucking mouth.”
Rafe allowed his open palm to travel up my navel, the roughness of his hand contradicting the silk of the dress.
“Please.” I was weak, I was so incredibly weak. I was a trembling mass of limbs under him just at his touch.
The palm of his hand finally trails up between the valley of breasts before curling around my throat tightening possessively.
“Take. It. Fucking. Back.” He emphasized each word with a hot kiss to my lips.
I clamped my eyes shut willing for him to disappear. What do you do when your worst nightmare is also the love of your life?
I felt his forehead rest against mine, his breath heavy against my own. “Don’t say that to me. Say whatever the hell you want, but not that. Never that.”
I slowly opened my eyes. Deep pools of glacial blue stare back at me overwhelmingly beautiful and gloriously mad.
“I didn’t mean it.” The words were spoken softly, barley above a whisper.
Rafe closed his eyes briefly in relief. “You drive me insane.”
A giggle erupted from my chest at the irony of his words because I’m almost certain he’s clinically psychotic. At the sound of my laughter, he opens his eyes and sends me a soft smile that relaxed all the harsh lines in his face.
Lifting a hand to his face, my finger tips slowly smooth out the stressed lines along his eyes.
“My head.”
“What?” I asked letting my hand finally run through the buzzed hair on his scalp, goosebumps erupt on my skin at the thought of it in between my legs.
“It’s finally quiet.”
My hand froze at his honesty and my heart ached for him. The same heart that has now decided to throw all reason outside the window.
I just wanted this pain to go away even for a few moments. He always had the ability to take it away even if he was the one causing it.
I tugged him down gently and he followed me with ease. “Rafe?”
“Yeah, baby?” His eyes darted to my lips.
“Did you miss me?”
A rumble left his chest. “Fuck, I missed you.”
My heart soared at his confession. I dragged the tips of my nails down the curve of his jaw and trail down his throat making him freeze.
At the sight of the familiar gold chain that decorated his neck, my legs clenched around him.
Even apart, he always kept me with him.
Not bothering to look up, I leaned forward with one finger grasping the chain that hit my chest while my lips placed an open mouth kiss along the curve of his neck.
I caught the chain between my lips humming to myself, completely entranced by him. Rafe balled the sheet in his grip by my head but it wasn’t enough. I needed to get it out of him.
Running my nose along the side of his neck inhaling deeply, my tongue slips out gently applying pressure as I drag it up his neck slowly.
Reaching the curve of his jaw, I peppered open mouth kisses like I would his lips. My blood drummed through my ears and need entered my bloodstream.
“Will you fucking kiss me already?” Rafe said gruffly, nipping at my lip.
He stared at me with half lidded eyes, his pupils blown out wide in arousal. “What do I get if I do?”
The filthy smile he shot me was filled with sin.
“I’ll fuck you dumb. Just how you like it.” He put his lips to my ear, the promise in his voice had me shivering in anticipation.
Tilting my head up, I smashed my lips to his causing him to let out a groan of relief. Our kiss was messy and desperate after so much time apart, our teeth clashed as we fought for dominance.
Rafe took over the kiss practically inhaling my very breath as his tongue brushed against mine. His fingers biting into the tops of my thighs as I tilted my hips up against his, desperate for friction.
Pulling back slightly, Rafe’s hand grips my chin roughly forcing my lips into a pout. Breathing harshly, he leaned forward and licked my pursed lips before kissing me again.
Capturing my tongue between his lips, he sucks on the muscle causing me to let out a soft whimper. We separated, our eyes lock on each other filled with lust, both of us breathing hard and accepting our fate.
“You gonna be good for me?”
The ache between my legs was almost painful as I nodded my head at him, begging with my eyes.
Rafe’s hands moved to my waist in seconds has he gathered the scrunched fabric and ripped over my head, leaving me in my black lace thong and nothing else.
His eyes darkened with each passing second as he stared at my body. I leaned back on the palms of my hands and arched my back in invitation.
Rafe traced the curves of my body with his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. His eyes never left my body as he took in every detail.
He looked starved.
Impatiently, I tugged at his shirt and started fumbling with the buttons. Finally the shirt gave way as I pushed it off his shoulders, my hands coming in contact with his built chest, smooth and firm.
His muscles flexed under my touch as I became mesmerized by his body. He had gotten bigger than before, his arms now bulging with muscles.
My fingers trailed down his tight pecs to his abdomen where I let one finger trail along each chiseled ab, my mouth salivating at the thought of tasting each bit of skin.
My breath started coming out in pants. Those blue eyes gleamed at my obvious attraction and the smirk on his lips said enough. His cheeks dusted slightly with pink at my burning undivided attention.
My hand dipped between us to the tent in his slacks and I slowly pressed my palm against the hard bulge. Rafe let out a relieved sigh as his hips pushed against my hand for more pressure.
“Rafe..” I let out a needy whine. The only coherent thought I could form was that I need him inside me.
“Hmm?”
“I want it now.”
He chuckled at my words, licking his lips slowly as he trailed his open palm up my abdomen towards my breasts. Cupping my breast in his hand, he gave it a squeeze before flicking the nub.
My eyes closed tightly, relishing at how his large hands gripped me. His mouth latched onto the hard nub forcing a gasp from me as he sucks and teasingly swipes his tongue around in circles.
He switches his attention to the other causing me to throw my head back in appreciation. My hands held on his head as I pulled him closer to my chest.
Brining his lips back to mine, Rafe nips at my jaw before dragging soft kisses down the size of my neck. I could feel my core start to clench on nothingness due to the level of sensitivity my body was wired on.
His lips latch onto my neck, as he pulled my skin into his mouth, sucking harshly. His hands kneaded into the globes of my ass as he left his mark on my body.
Examining his handy work, Rafe placed small kisses on the several hickeys I knew he left on my neck.
Nothing he did was ever on accident. This I knew he did for a reason, to prove the one point I tried to deny.
We were so good together.
“I’m going to eat you fucking alive.” Harsh words were rasped against my lips as his fingers dipped to my waist, curling around the ribbon of my thong before tugging roughly. The straps gave way as he tore my panties off, quickly tucking them into his pocket.
Now completely bare, Rafe’s fingers dancing across my smooth mound. Unconsciously, my legs opened further at the feeling of his cold rings against my pulsating pussy.
Fuck, those rings.
He glided a single digit along the slit dipping it in between when a low pained moan left his lips.
“You’re dripping on the mattress.”
I didn’t give myself the chance to be embarrassed at his words because the way he was looking at me had me breathless. My brain was blank. Not one explanation came to mind other than him.
He did this to me.
Rafe slips another finger in, the evidence of my arousal being used as lubricant against my clit.
Cursing, he moves off the bed and grabs my hips, tugging me to the edge of the bed where he kneels. Forcing my legs open further, his breathe hits my lips and I can’t hide the tremble in my legs.
His thick ring covered fingers slowly rub my lips before dipping in, separating them slowly in the shape of a ‘V’ opening me up completely under his greedy gaze.
Rafe pushes a finger in, meeting no resistance, and I can feel myself immediately clench around him.
A moan slipped out as he slowly began to thrust in and out while his thumb ghosted along my clit. Slipping another finger in, he begins to pick up his pace, the only sounds to be heard are the squelching of my juices and his hard grunts.
It was obscene how loud the wet noises were but he was eating it up.
Flicking my nub with his thumb, he curled his fingers making me cry out in pleasure. Pulling them out, Rafe finally leans down and drags his tongue from ass to clit.
Prying my lips open, Rafe sticks his tongue indices of me, thrusting in and out. He hummed against my clit, pulling them between his lips and sucking harshly.
“Fuck you for leaving me. I could have had this every day but you took it away from me.” To anyone else, I knew that came off as mean and probably extremely aggressive. But, I knew what he actually meant.
That translated to, I missed you.
My legs were wrapped around his head with my back arched as I rutted my hips against his face. His fingers, which were drenched in my slick, trailed up my stomach and onto my breasts covering me in my juices.
It only made me burn more.
I began to convulse under his brutal assault of my pussy and my nerves were shot. “Oh god, oh god.” I gasped as my fingers dragged along his scalp.
He hand successfully pinned me down by his forearms as he continued to lap at my lips. Rafe circled my clit with his tongue, prodding at it again and again in a relentless assault. Not giving me a moment to breath, he softly bits on the nub at the same time he slams to fingers into me.
A wave of pleasure hits my body and my toes curl in ecstasy with my eyes slammed shut. I could feel myself gushing onto his face as his name comes out in loud chants.
A warm flush passes through my body as I slump against the bed, exhausted. A languid sigh leaves my mouth as I try to catch my breath.
Rafe presses one long kiss against my pussy, his fingers forming a ‘v’ once more to watch as I dripped onto the mattress. I could feel the wetness under my ass but didn’t dare move.
“So fucking pretty.”
Rafe stood up from between my legs and towered over me with dark eyes.
Holy fuck.
Spit and my arousal dripped from chin, his entire mouth and nose glistening from my juices.
His eyes never moved from mine as he lazily began to undo his belt with one hand. Tugging it off his waist, he tossed it to the ground before he began to unzip his pants.
Rafe stepped out of his pants and underwear leaving him completely naked. I had remind myself to properly breathe.
His dark hooded eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
He gripped his hard and heavy cock in one hand letting out a groan. Tilting his head back slightly, he lazily tugged at his cock making my pussy pound with need.
He looked like a Greek god with his head thrown back like that in pleasure.
“Are you fucking me or what?” There was a bite to my words.
Rafe narrowed his eyes at me before languidly stroking his cock a few more times. “Don’t get pissy.”
I opened my mouth to argue then shut it closed as he came into the bed, spreading my legs wide open.
“Look at me.”
My eyes darted up and connected with his darkened blue orbs. Without breaking eye contact, Rafe gathered saliva in his mouth and spits directly onto my pussy while his hands pinned me open.
My chest heaved up on down at the action, making me feel so filthy. He brings the tip to my slit and slaps it gently against my sensitive engorged lips.
A pained whine escaped me at his teasing.
“Someone’s needy.” He mused.
Leaning forward, he slowly pushed in cursing under his breath. My legs were shaking as I furrowed my eyes brows at the intrusion.
I felt full as my eyes glossed over the more he pushed his hips in. I didn’t remember him stretching and making me feel this full.
“Rafe, I dont think-“
“I used to fuck you in the shower, the car, in the fucking boat. You can take me, baby.” He murmured against my lips, taking my bottom lip in between his teeth and tugged gently. “You used to sit on my cock and keep me warm.”
He slides another inch, my cunt sucking him in. I could feel every ridge of his thick hard cock against my quivering walls.
“That’s it. Fuck, you’re taking me so good.” Rafe praised, his hands dancing along my thighs in a loving caress.
I felt myself clench at his words and a wave a clinginess hit me. Mewling for contact, Rafe reads my face with satisfaction as leans over me, giving me the closeness I needed.
My nails dig into his shoulders as he sinks into me further, causing my mouth to open and close like a fish out of water.
I momentarily forgot how to breathe. He completely bottoms out inside me drawing a loud moan from my lips.
“Such a good girl for me,” Rafe muttered, pressing soft kisses along my face. “Your pussy remembers exactly who owns it.”
He let out a deep groan in my ear causing goosebumps to appear. He was so fucking vocal, he knew how to kill me.
“I’m the only one that fucks you the way you need to be fucked, right?”
I ignored the questions, instead focusing my attention on the feel of his cock twitching inside me.
Rafe pulls out before slamming back into me, a scream leaving my lips as my back arched in pleasure.
“Fucking answer me.”
I could barely hear him over the pounding of my ears.
He begins to rut into me, each thrust echoing with sopping wet sounds. My walls quivered and pulsated around his dick.
Slowing down his pace, he pushes my thighs up, folding me in half before slamming into me again. The tip of his dick brushes my cervix making my eyes roll to the back of my head as I gasped for breath.
Rafe’s pace is brutal as he savagely fucks me into the mattress. A choked sob left my mouth as I dug my nails deeper into his skin.
The sound is skin hitting skin echos in the room making me clench even harder. My upper thighs were soaked with my slick and his spit, making the noise all the more dirty.
“Tell me I’m the only one that fucks you like this.”
A gargled noise left my lips as my brain began to short circuit. He only pounded into me harder at my lack of response.
I could only focus on the ceiling as I gasped for my breath.
“You think JJ can get you to forget how fucking breathe?”
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
My eyes were blown wide and my mind completely blank as I mumbled incoherently under him.
“How about Pope? Does he know how to get you break?”
He harshly spat the words, punctuating each sentence with a pistoled thrust. I was a mindless mess under him. My eyes rolled to the back of my head with my mouth dropped open.
“You’re a fucking freak. They don’t know how to handle you. But, I do.”
He needed to stop talking before I blacked out.
Letting go of my legs he tried to move back, but I immediately wrapped them around his waist, wanting to be as close as two people could.
I was a desperate whining mess as I begged him for more.
Roughly grabbing my chin in between his two fingers, his eyes laced with heat. “Open your mouth.”
With wide eyes, my mouth slowly opens and my tongue slides out. Rafe places his mouth over mine before spitting directly onto my tongue all the while slowly thrusting in and out of my gummy walls.
Moving back, he stared at me through half lidded eyes. “Swallow it.”
My brain had turned to mush at this point. I blinked at him before I swallowed his spit, humming under his heated gaze.
“Missed that pretty mouth.”
I clamped down on him at his words. I blushed under his gaze. Rafe dipped his head, connecting our lips, licking his way into my mouth.
Suddenly, I feel him pull out of me causing me to whine in protest at the loss. His hands grabbed my hips in a brutal grip before turning me over onto my stomach.
He tried lifting my hips into position but they were shaking so intensely that I couldn’t hold them up.
“My legs-“ I gasped out gulps of air with my face resting onto the sheets, my hands gripping the sheets into tight balls.
“Come on, baby. Don’t you want to be good for me? Hold up your legs.” He cooed in my ear.
At his demand, I somehow found the strength to push myself up, arching my back as far as I could with my legs shaking.
A guttural groan erupts from his chest as I feel him separate my ass cheeks. Sinking back into me, Rafe begins to truly fuck me into oblivion.
His pace is animalistic, not stopping once. “I’m in your fucking stomach.” He spoke through gritted teeth, his grunts filling the room.
One of his hands trailed up my spine before wrapping itself around the nape of my neck, threading his fingers into my hair and pinned me down.
My cries were muffled into the sheets as he’s grip on my neck tightened possessively.
“Had-Harder, Rafe. Please, please please.” I was babbling on and on with pleads.
He was fucking me so hard I’m almost certain he left an imprint. My eyes began to water from overstimulation as he kept bottoming out against my cervix.
I could slowly start to feel myself spasming against his dick, with each glide and thrust. His hands now holding my hips in a punish grip, sure to leave bruises.
It was too much. I kept forgetting how to breathe and found myself slowly becoming light headed from the pleasure.
Tears began to fall and soak the sheets bellow me as I cried out with whimpers. Choked sobs loudly leave my mouth at him roughly pulling back before grinding back into me.
“You’re so pretty when you cry.”
I went stupid.
He fucked me relentlessly, his palms messaging the fat of my ass before slapping it. Reaching between us, his fingers circle my clit, causing sharp hiss to leave me.
My legs gave out beneath me as tears continued to leak. Rafe didn’t care, instead he continued to piston into me muttering words of praise.
The tightness in my stomach began to build, my toes curling in anticipation. “Oh god. I’m-“
I couldn’t finish my words as my mind went compelled numb, a hot flash a white bursting behind my eye lids. A wave I’ve pleasure snapped as I wailed out his name.
I withered underneath him before my body went completely limp, warm with satisfaction.
He never slowed down. Rafe continued to fuck me through my orgasm as I whined and incoherently begged for more.
I gushed all over his legs, half dazed and mindless.
“W-wanna see your face.” I begged him numbly, needing to see his face when he finished.
“Whatever you want.” Rafe flipped me onto my back before pushing into me once more.
The intrusion has me throwing my head back where he grunted as he dragged his tongue along the side of my exposed neck.
I sobbed to myself. I could taste the salt on my lips and I knew my mascara was running down my cheeks.
My head lolled to the side, my eyes half shut as I stared at him. His neck was tight, and his body tense as him pace began to pick up speed. A new sense of vigour filled him as he rutted into me.
“Rafe, I-I want it.” The words were reckless, but he fucked all my braincells gone.
He was hitting me so deeply, you could see the bulge slightly through my stomach.
A groan ripped out of his mouth, his eyes finding mine. He looked drunk. Drunk off of me.
“You want my cum, baby?”
I nodded stupidly.
“I knew you could take it. Such a good fucking girl for me. So good to me.”
Rafe leaned down and hungrily kissed me, our lips clashing against each other. I panted into his mouth as he rocked into me again and again.
He pulled out before slamming himself back in again and again, grunting and moaning as he fucked the life out of me.
“I’m gonna come inside this pretty pussy.” He grunted against my lips, “I’m gonna fill you up.”
My arms wrapped themselves around his head, forcing his forehead against mine. My eyes stayed on his as I slowly lifted my hips and rocked them against his.
His thrusts begin to stutter as I whispered dirty little nothings to him. I couldn’t control the desire that had me pressing open mouth kisses along his face.
I licked and lapped at his mouth, kissing him roughly.
Rafe began to moan loudly, sweat dripped down the side of his face but I caught it with my tongue.
“Fucking brat.” He cursed out, pinning me down by my throat, the cool metal of his rings soothing my burning skin.
My hand held onto his that was on my throat to serve as some sort of anchor. He took his other hand and wiped my tears across my face, making more of a mess.
“I knew you’d cry for me.”
Rafe clenched his jaw in pleasure before throwing his head back and letting out a loud moan.
Planting himself deeply inside me, I gasped and clamped down on him and in seconds he filled me with his cum.
My body was exhausted as I lazily stared up at him, a small smile of satisfaction decorating my lips.
Wincing as he slowly pulled out of me, I could feel his seed slowly leak out of me and onto the bed.
Rafe caught the slick arousal with his finger and slowly dipped it back inside of me causing me to hiss due to the over-sensitivity.
I watched him through tired eyes, catching his hand into mine and brought it to my face.
His hand curled along my jaw as he wiped the remaining tears away with his thumb. Rafe stared at me with open infatuation as he traced my eyes, then my nose, and finally my lips with his fingers.
“You’ll never be over me.”
At his words, I felt a pang hit my chest that painfully curled around my heart.
His words were cruel, but true.
He wasn’t good for me. In fact, he was my own personal demon that caused all sort of pain in my life time and time again.
Rafe brought me to life. A spark inside me, that I didn’t know existed, ignited. I ached for his attentions and became quickly addicted. His charm and smile lured me into his web of lies and manipulation, and never let me out.
Instead, I threw myself deeper into his web and wrapped myself around his bed of lies. His darkness became my darkness and I accepted every ugly piece of him.
His presence was overwhelming that at times I found it hard to breathe and hard to think. He made me loose my sanity. My very existence had circled around one thing: Rafe.
I would never get over him because he was in my fucking bloodstream.
“I hate you.” My words were weak at best, softly spoken. I stared at him openly hurt, my face shattered as the reality of our situation sets in.
Rafe mirrors my expression, “No, you don’t.”
So I ask you again, what do you do when the monster from your nightmares is also the love of your life?
——————————
Side note: they are fucking F-R-E-A-K-S. He’s so hot I cant even. This is going to be part one of a two part series!!! Please let me know what you think:)
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ghostlythunderbird · 1 year
Text
The Pack ~ The Letter
Pairings: Alpha!Konig, Alpha!Simon “Ghost” Riley, Alpha!Keegan P. Russ X Omega!Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ Minors/Ageless Blogs DNI, Omegaverse, Mentions of Anxiety/Panic attack, Ghost and Keegan are kinda mean for this one (Im sorry!), Konig being a big softie for Reader, Mostly Fluff for this one!
Words: 4,437 (Went a little too wild with this one!)
Author’s Notes: Please do not repost, edit, or translate my work. This blog and all content will be marked 18+ even if there is no NSFW content, if you are underage or have no age I don't want to deal with you. So sorry for the long time to update, I'm currently recouping after my hand surgery so ill try and update when I can, it sucks trying to write with one hand XD.
Summary: After being introduced to your new pack, you are taken to your new home or 'Den' at this point. While the introduction part went almost seamlessly, your starting to figure out that these alphas might be a little hard to get along with.
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The drive home was nothing less than silent; aside from König sitting in the back seat with you, the two other alphas were quiet. 'Maybe they are the strong silent type.' You had told yourself. While you wanted to ask anything about themselves, you had a strong feeling that you would be told to be quiet by these alphas.
Close to an hour later, the car had come to pull into a short driveway. Looking out the window, the house itself was decent from the outside. A standard brick suburban house, copied and pasted much like many others on both sides of the street. The red bricks and white paneling nearly blinded you as you stared at it. Before you could ponder more on the look of your new 'home' the door on your side opened, The Alpha known as Ghost stood there "Come on, out ya get."
Sliding out of the vehicle you were snatched up by König who gently guided you up the steps to the front door. "Don't worry about your stuff right now, Schatz. We will get it later." Without another word, the front door was finally opened.
Your new home was lackluster; if you googled a Bachelor pad, this would be the definition of one. While there was furniture, it didn't feel as homey as you had expected. The living room was bare other than the oversized L-shaped couch and T.V. stand it faced. Hell, these guys didn't even have a fucking coffee table, of all things. As you further overlooked the room, you noticed the bare white walls. No different colored paint, picture frames, or calendar was hung up.
Just an empty minimalistic house. Perfect for three military bachelors.
As you stepped through the front door, you nearly lost your breath after the mix of alphas scents. The overall musk almost sent you to your knees, through the overbearing scent hints of Cinnamon, Vanilla, Mint, Smoke, and Leather blended in almost perfectly.
 Minutes passed as you regained yourself before you looked back towards the door to find König waiting for you to continue. "Are you okay, Schatz?" His voice was soft as he began to approach you. While you knew his second gender and the horror stories your family had told you growing up, none seemed to fit his character. His sheer size alone would make anyone panic if he approached, but with him nervously clutching his hands to soothe his anxiety. It made him appear much less intimidating and rough around the edges, reminding you more of a large shelter dog being welcomed into a new house for the first time. He wanted you to accept his home, his den, as somewhere you would feel comfortable and safe. 
From Konig's point of view, None of this seemed real to him.
In two weeks, König went from a pack-less and omega-less Apex to not just having his own pack but an omega that he could protect and care for. Everything was a mirage that could disappear should he touch it. But seeing you here before him, nothing less of a goddess, made it much more believable. "If you two are going to have an emotional moment, at least move out of the fucking doorway so people can get into the damn house." Ghost growled out as he passed both of you. Keegan followed close behind, but unlike Ghost, he gave you a blank stare as he passed. 
Looking down towards you, König felt his anxiety rear its head. Your face had fallen and a sour tone began to line your once relaxing scent. as you watched the two alphas walk away from the door.
As wordlessly they came in, they disappeared up the stairs to their shared room. This brought König to sigh heavily as he looked down at you again. "Don't worry, Schatz. They will warm up to you……eventually" He wasn't sure if he was telling you this or trying to reassure himself at the pair's attitude that one eighty once they were back in their den.
He didn't want you to feel they despised your existence as soon as you entered their lives. "Why don't we get you settled? I'm sure you're ready to rest." With the Apex mentioning this, your eyes lit up, and you couldn't help but smile at him. "Definitely; it seems like we all need a fat nap."
Both you and König laughed before he led you up the stairs. Reaching the next floor, he showed you where the single bathroom was and his, Ghost, and Keegan's bedrooms, just in case. At the end of the hallway was the final room. "This was Ghost's room originally, but once we were accepted, we all decided to leave one room open for you. So that you have your own space away from us." Upon opening the room, you were presented with one of the most enormous beds you'd ever seen. Resting on top were bags on bags of not just new nesting material. This ranged from thick fluffy comforters to sleek silk sheets; however, they lacked color.
It was a swirl of black and white with an underlying mix of grey.
It rendered you motionless as you took in the sheer amount, had these alphas gone out and bought you a whole nest and a half of material? You had never heard of alphas going to these lengths to make an omega comfortable. As you looked toward the Apex in the doorway, the anxiety in his posture was evident.
His hands were drawn up to his chest, clutching pieces of his shirt into his hands. He was even slouched forward to lower his overall height to match yours, even with it being impossible without him going to his knees.
"Well, I uh.....I'll leave you to get settled. Just call for us if you need anything." Without another word, the Apex left, closing the door behind him.
With that, you turned back to look at the covered bed before finally moving to clear off the excessive amount of nesting material lumped together. What you thought was an easy 15-minute job turned into 45 simply because your omega was getting too far distracted by the number of gifts she was given.
'Soft and Secure. Alphas are perfect, bringing nice gifts for a nest. The perfect nest for Alpha's pups.' She yipped. You were startled back to reality, god you haven't even known these alphas for a whole day, and suddenly, your omega is presenting herself, begging to be bred by these practical strangers. 'Jesus, you need to focus' Shacking your head to rid your mind of the intrusive thoughts, you attempted to finish your task.
Why would your omega be so enamored even after how the other two alphas seemed to want nothing to do with you?
Once all the material was put away for the time being, you had a yawn slip from your mouth. How long have you been up today? It was well over 14 hours at this point. Why not take a quick break. Deciding to rest, you had walked towards the sorted assortment of nesting materials before you settled on one of the larger and softer blankets. The void color overtook your view as you pulled it from its packaging.
'So soft,' You tiredly thought. After making it onto the bed and ensuring the blanket fully covers you, you finally lay down. Letting the bed hold the weight of your body.
It was quiet as you brought the blanket further up your chin. The only audible noise in the room was the sound of the ceiling fan. You hadn't realized how mentally exhausted you were from the entirety of not just today but the past few weeks. Each blink drew slower and slower until your vision went black, and your mind drifted to dreamless slumber.
~~~~~Flashback~~~~~
The sound of the T.V. did so little to drown out König's thoughts; König primarily spent the little time he had away from his rather dangerous occupation thinking about the 'What ifs' of his life. He was so caught in his thoughts he didn't realize Ghost had come back into the house, his hands full with mail. Most were bills, but one was large and thick compared to the rest.
Ghost placed all the envelopes on the counter before sorting them; the largest was addressed to König. From the Alpha Pack Selection Program. Something that the resident Apex had waited for close to 4 weeks for a response, one that hopefully bared good news. "König." His gruff voice echoed out.
Being pulled from his overreactive mind, the Apex leaned slightly to look at the other Alpha. The manilla folder being held transformed into a brightly lit target to the Austrian sprawled out on the couch.
The large man lunged off the couch, startling the smaller Alpha, who had just descended the stairs. "Jesus, König, a bit of a fucking warning." Keegan couldn't help but snarl after nearly getting run over by the Apex. It was rare for these sorts of incidents to happen in the house; the two alphas and the Apex were incredibly aware of where each was and their schedules. 
König was zeroed entirely in on the envelope in Ghost's hand, while he may have been eager to receive this letter. He couldn't help but fear their answer; after their last response, it would make seven rejections from the program. Each time was for the same reason "Due to your Apex representation, we regretfully have to decline your enrollment to our program." But it still didn't stop him from taking it and tore the envelope open. "well, come on mate, what does it say?" Ghost nudged his arm; the Apex hadn't realized that Ghost had even rounded the corner to stand beside him.
König took in a deep breath before releasing as he unfolded the papers to read the words printed onto the paper.
Dear Applicant,
It has come to our attention that you have sent multiple applications over the last few years. Each one followed with a swift rejection from our programs as your representation would cause an upset in both our application alphas who may be paired with you and in the omegas who could be assigned to your care.
While we appreciate the time and effort you have invested in becoming part of this program, we have concluded that we will no longer accept any future applications from you. However, with this harsh news, we will allow a new application with you, but you must have at least two other alphas willing to become paired with you in a pack. 
This envelope contains four applications for alphas willing to work and be assigned to a shared omega. These applications are only viable for 30 days; afterward, we will no longer accept any attempts to pair you. As well as, all previous information you provided will be deleted from our database.
~ The Alpha Pack Selection Program council 
The silence that surrounded the air of the Alphas was suffocating. Even with the tv playing in the background, it was drowned out by the tense atmosphere. König felt like he couldn't breathe; until a sob forced its way out, and air seemed to flood his lungs again. How was he supposed to find someone willing to pack with him? and within 30 days? No one wanted to be stuck with him, and he hardly knew any other Alphas outside his work. And those he did work with? Most were already packed or swore off mating altogether. 
This was it, his final chance to be accepted. With no potential pack-mates, he would lose his only chance of finding a mate and having pups. The world wanted him to live the rest of his life, never knowing the sweet touch of the omega for which he would lay down his life. To never know the feeling of pure happiness looking at a pup made from his omega and himself. A piece of him that he helped create.
Why? Why. Why. Why. WHY.
He hadn't realized that he was beginning to have a panic attack until Ghost dug his fingers into his shoulder. König could feel his body trembling, rolling off in waves, making his balance waver. "König, mate, you need to breathe," Ghost told him hushedly. Ghost and Keegan shared a look as the Apex slumped forward onto the counter, his head falling forward into his hands. 
Steadying his breathing, König straightened his back and pushed the papers away as they burned him. While his day may have been uneventful, he wished he had never opened the damn letter now. The crushing weight that bared on his shoulders now seemed to grow heavier as the seconds passed. Looking at the stack of papers, Ghost couldn't help but look at the pages that caused König to damn near crumble before them. 
The words spilled out before he made him sick. Why are they just now sending this? After all those years König spent trying to be accepted in this shitty program and getting rejected every time, they decide now to tell him what he needs to be accepted. Talk about hitting a man while he's down. Looking towards the dark-haired Alpha, leaning against the back of the couch, "Keegan, take a look at this fuckin' shit." While reading over the papers, the smaller Alpha couldn't believe the audacity of these fucking people. All this just because he was a slightly different second gender?
Casting a glance at the large Apex, who seemed to be on the verge of shutting down completely. While Keegan was a hardass, usually, he couldn't help but feel bad for his brother-in-arms. "So they are telling you to find a pack outside this program to be accepted? What a load of crap." His brain couldn't help but reel at the fact they were giving him only 30 days to figure this out; who could even help him now? He paused. Looking between Ghost and König, he knew what he was about to say would either be genius or he was about to be hit for. "What if Ghost and I pack with you?"
König and Ghost both wheeled around, both wearing surprised expressions. "The fuck are you on about? Did you hit your head on your last O.P.?" Ghost exclaimed as he stepped toward the smaller Alpha. "How are we the best options for a fuckin pack?" Keegan took a step backward as Ghost entered his space. 'Fuck, probably should have kept my mouth shut.'
Clearing his throat, "Think about it, Ghost, we're both unbonded alphas who know König the best; hell, we already live with him. And he needs a pack to be accepted. Why not throw us in and see where we go?" The air between them grew tense as the larger Alpha stared at him. "Right, and we're the best choices to take care of an omega; last I checked, neither of us have been around one." Ghost spoke through a tense jaw. As much as he was against being anywhere around an omega, he knew it was the best option between them.
König looked at them both. "A-are you guys sure? I know you guys aren't comfortable with this; I don't want you to force yourselves into this just because of me." The Apex was ecstatic to hear that they would try, but he knew he couldn't get his hopes up with this. There was still the possibility they would all be rejected. 
"If this gets you into that program, I will push for it as much as possible." Keegan calmly stated. The Apex looked towards Ghost, who still looked unsure, giving him a kicked puppy look.
The blonde Alpha signed before giving König a look. "Alright, we'll give it a go. But if they reject us, this Program business stops. Are we clear on that?" König nodded ecstatically while Keegan released a deep chuff. The emotions swept over the Apex so much he didn't realize he had dragged Ghost into a bear hug. "GET OFF ME, YOU FUCKIN MUPPET; Keegan, help me out ere'!"  
~~~~~~
After sending in the paperwork, they got their response two weeks later.
They were accepted.
König felt like he was about to pass out; everything was starting to work out. But it was only the beginning for the newly formed pack. Not only were they a pre-formed pack, but due to their extended military service, they were also notified that they could choose their omega. Hence the giant pile of files on the kitchen table.
It felt like they'd been at this for hours, passing the scent samples for each one to inhale. Each Alpha had the scent samples they liked, but when presented to the other two, it was met with a swift rejection and sometimes with a comment. While some omegas looked good on paper or had a decent scent, the Alphas couldn't agree.
"How about this one? She comes from a wealthy family in Italy, and it even says, 'She enjoys the finer things in life.'
"No, Keegan, It sounds like she'd be more of a glorified brat. Anyone born with a silver spoon in their mouth is nothing but trouble for people in our job."
Or it's a same-answer vote.
"Yeah fuck this one; smells like a Hospital."
"I'm going to have to agree with Ghost on this one. It reminds me of when my mom used so much cleaner in the house when I was a kid."
They thought this would be the easiest part, but they were definitely over their heads. Ghost finally stood up in a rage. "We've been sitting here for fuckin HOURS, and not a single one we have agreed on. Most of them smell like shite too." The Alpha raised his hands and walked to the fridge to grab another beer. KKönig stood as well at the other Alpha's tone. "No one said the selection was easy, and there's only a few left. Let's get through them, and then we can take a break." The Apex pleaded.
That only seemed to rile up the exasperated Alpha more "How the hell are we going to find an omega at this point? We can't agree on a single one?" Both alphas stared at each other "HOW DO YOU KNOW? WE ARENT EVEN DONE!"  
Keegan watched as both alphas continued to argue; their conversation slowly was tuned out as he watched while resting his head in one hand. As much as he wanted to pipe up to aid König in calming Ghost down, He knew better than to get between these two during times like this. Before Keegan could intervene, a quick breeze of something sweet passed his nose, and the Alpha couldn't help but follow it back to the remaining folders. This scent was the best one he'd had all day, so he couldn't help but be curious.
It led him to a file towards the bottom that seemed much newer but was thinner than the other files in the stack. Once he opened it, the sweet scent was no longer teasing him. Taking the scent sample from the file, Keegan couldn't stop himself from pressing it to his nose and inhaling deeply.
It felt like he became weightless for those seconds; how had he not noticed this one earlier? It reminded him of the smell of fresh rainfall, a sweet yet calming scent. His Alpha couldn't help but be drawn to whoever the smell belonged to; without a second thought, Keegan pulled back from the cloth to look at the pages in the folder. Whoever's file this was about was the smallest one he had seen from the entire stack.
The picture attached gave him a view of the person that caught his Alpha’s attention.
You were stunning; His Alpha yipped in delight. ‘Yes, yes! Pretty mate! Must mate, Must protect!’
However, something felt wrong in the picture. Looking closer, the smile that graced your features didn't seem to reach your eyes. Your eyes held sadness and hidden anger that could reveal itself should you choose to snap. As his eyes flickered across the pages, Keegan stored everything he could about you away.
Omega Profile
Name: (Y/N) (L/N)
Age: 23
Sex: Female
Second Gender: Omega
Personality: N/A. Omega and Family declined to file the Omega Attribute survey.
The sickening sound of glass crack made Keegan snap his head upwards; the sight before him was far from good. Ghost and König stood only a few feet apart; the Apex and Alpha had their teeth bared and chests puffed up. Ghost was making his displeasure clear to the Apex while König was getting close to putting him back in his place among the three. It wasn't often it happened due to each other's work schedule, but when it did, someone was going to have their ego bruised, and some furniture might end up being broken.
“I highly recommend to watch what you say next, Simon.” The Apex spoke. His voice had dropped an octave; His Apex was close to taking over to deal with the Alpha. Ghost was silent before scoffing, moving to clean up his broken glass of bourbon. Keegan took this as his chance to break the tense air. “If you two are done with your pissing contest, I think I got one.” He slowly held up the small cloth between his index and middle fingers. As much as Keegan wanted to hoard the small cloth to himself, he needed to let at least his newfound packmates have a chance to decide if the omega was a good fit.
König was the only one who returned to the table to remove the cloth from Keegan’s hand. Lifting it towards his nose, he caught the scent almost immediately. It had him completely forgetting his altercation just minutes prior. “wow….I like this one; her scent is not overpowering and smells good. Simon, wanna try this one?” The Apex had turned back to the Alpha, who was leaning on the counter nursing a new glass of bourbon. The look in his eyes made Konig nervous; the Blonde Alpha was definitely over the whole experience, but seeing how both Keegan and König agreed on the scent patch, it seemed to be at least a contender.
Sighing, He set his drink on the counter before returning to the table. König slowly held the cloth towards him, but before he took it, he looked towards the two Alphas. “If this one smells like shite, I'm punching both of you.” Simon grumbled before snatching the small fabric. He stared at the cloth before finally giving in; as soon as the scent filled his nose, it was as if all the tension in his body had just melted away.
The other Alphas held their breath as they waited to see what the blonde alpha had to say. Simon looked at the pair as he set the cloth on the table near the open file. “Well, she doesn't smell bad. What's in her file?”
Keegan and König shared a look before handing Simon the file; It seemed they finally agreed on their potential omega.
~~~~~
The days counting down to them finally meeting you and bringing you home were absolutely hectic, to say the least. So many emotions filled the small townhouse as all three alphas cleaned and organized the house as best as they could, no omega should have a dirty home when they come home in the alpha's mind. Most were bouts of Anxiousness and Frustration, a vast majority were from the poor Apex who checked everything twice to make sure everything was perfect.
At the one-week mark Ghost and Keegan decided to move into the same room to make sure you have a space for yourself as you settled down. The move sparked from just the simple question "Where is our omega going to stay until she's warmed up to us?" To say it had the alphas taking multiple steps back was an understatement. Another thing that was brought up (By Ghost mind you) was what were you going to use should you decide to make a nest.
It may have not been something the Alphas were well versed in, but they at least made an effort. Cue the three alphas going out and buying almost two whole carts full of nesting material, plus the whole material selection boot camp.
"What about this one? It's big and it's super soft!" ~ König
"No no, She needs something that won't stick to her if she uses this for her heats. What about that silk sheet kinda stuff?" ~ Keegan
"Why not just get her some fucking blankets and pillows, This nesting shit can't be that complicated" ~ Ghost
It was definitely quite the scene watching these big alphas carry multiple bags worth of nesting material due to them being unsure what to get.
Once everything was settled, the day when they finally got to meet you arrived. The checking-in process was seamless, soon leading to the alphas being led to a smaller room waiting for the actual introduction. From what the receptionist had told them the Omegas family still needed to finalize paperwork, It had been the longest wait any of the alphas had ever done. But when the door finally opened to reveal the betas and you, time seemed to stand still.
They collectively decided they would die for you if it made you happy.
~~~~~
It had been a few hours since König had left your room. Call him paranoid, but no noise was coming from the door. Worried about you, he walked back to your door before knocking.
"(Y/N)? Is everything okay?" Hearing no response, he slowly opened the door and was greeted by a dimly lit room. And there on the bed, you laid completely still on the massive bed, sound asleep.
Once you walked in through that door, all his fears and worries seemed to implode and no longer existed. You were more than everything he could have dreamed of; how you weren't already paired was beyond him. You entangled him. Everything about you was beautiful, from your hair and eyes to your body. It wasn't until he had heard his name from downstairs that he was brought out of his trance.
He was casting you one last glance, taking in your sleeping form before turning to leave. König told himself he would make this work. Because now that he had you, He wasn't ever going to let you go.
Tag List: @silentmel, @thisperspective, @thebestgirlever2, @ghostalina, @pascallllllll1, @jujitsuito2069, @hypernovaxx, @frazie99, @v1naco, @littlezarp, @thatoneautor0123, @credince--writes, @4ndjelij4, @alonelyteenagebroncinbuck, @alonelyteenagebroncinbuck, @random0lover, @wintersnnowie, @operatorinvestigatesco, @marytvirgin, @nightriver99, @l-lend, @kelpiesummer, @quietlyignoringyou
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theangelcatalogue · 2 months
Text
WHAT'S WRONG? || YANDERE FRANCIS X READER! || ★!
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★ - Romantic or Platonic(?)!
★ - Gender Neutral reader!
★ - One shot!
★ - Before we start: Idk why i did this, but i saw fics of him, and people going crazy over him, so why not?? I don't even write for that's not my neighbour, but i love the game! So let' go! Also sorry if is confusing! My mind is kinda tired and idk why i wrote this at 1AM(Is i wrote this at 1AM, remade some parts and posted it at 2AM) (Pls check Tw before reading it! <3)
★ - TW: YANDERE, DOPPELGANGER, BLOOD, BAD ENGLISH, BAD GRAMMAR AND MADE BY A MINOR!!! PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING!!!
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   ˚๑ ✦ Y/N!!! ✦ ๑°
・・・ ★ ・・・
︶ ꒷ ︶ ꒷ ꒦
Just a normal day in work!
This work is not that bad, i mean, i have to focus in every single neighbor, check some papers and be careful because some of than can be actually doppelgangers that will kill me and the persons that live here? Yeah-
But is guess i am getting used to it! And some neighbors are really nice! And others are just weird and rude! But what i can do? People are like that!
It's kinda weird that no one is showing up now, but i can have some time to rest now! Just me, a good coffee and my jornal/book(it can be a jornal or a book!)
Now i am just reading, waiting for anyone, i mean the today's list is short today! Lucky me i guess? I get kinda focused in the reading, the content is kinda depressing and boring, but is what i have for now
" Hello Y/n. "
I heard someone saying, Oh! I can't forget this voice!
" Francis! Tired as always? Well, let's see if you are in todays list! "
I said not taking the eyes of my jornal/book, i am lucky that Francis is the one who showed up! He is kinda nice! Just a tired guy but hey! He is a hardworker!
" Sounds good for me. Here is my entry request and ID "
I could notice him giving the papers, now i notice his hand is kinda dirty and his voice is kinda off, more tired than usual...
" Oh! Thanks- "
I respond him finally taking my eyes of the book, now i can see Francis better let's say, he is covered in a red liquid with a weird smell
It is what i am thinking? Oh yeah! A doppelganger! But i never thought a doppelganger would commit a error like that, why blood...? Some are a missing eye, others just say peach and others are a long neck and etc, what if is not a doppelganger...?
" What's wrong Y/n? Something wrong about the papers? "
He says noticing that i am kinda nervous, i just pick the papers and the clickboard as usual, first thing to question?
His looks.
" Francis! What happend? You are corvered in...what is that? Can you explain? "
Francis just looks at his outifit and then back at me, the same tired look, but something about the way he looks at me is different, i can't tell what is
" Oh this? It's a new milk! Scarlett Milk! It's a Milk with Red coloring, and Yes, it's food coloring! Not used in clothes... "
" Really Francis? So tell me! How did you got corvered in...Scarlett Milk...? "
He was getting tired of me questioning i guess, okay, i have three options!
1. It's really a milk with food coloring
2. It's a doppelganger
3. Francis is a killer or just got crazy
Please let it be 1-
" Accident at work. Just that, can i go in? "
He asks me looking at me deep at the eyes, i feel like he is judging all my sins, i break the eye contact and look at the Red button and then at the phone
Should i call the police or my boss?
" Look Y/N, i am really tired, just let me in, so i can go take a shower and rest. Maybe after you are done, you can go to my room, drink some coffee together! I heard is your favorite drink, what about a coffee with milk uh? "
He says to me, i think he is getting impatient
OH REALLT Y/N L/N!? DON'T TELL ME
" I- "
" Come on darling. "
He gets closer to the window, supporting his one of his arms in the glass
" Let. Me. In "
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✦ - NOTES!!!
✮ " Sky wtf was that? " I DON'T KNOW LOL ✮
✮ The fandom go crazy about him gosh ✮
✮ Okay should i write for TNMN??? ✮
✮ Anyways have a good day my loves! <33 ✮
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agere-fics · 4 months
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Vroom, vroom!
dni: k!nk, anti-agere, agepl4y, or ddlg-esque blogs 🍄 this blog is a safe space for age regressors and age dreamers 🍄
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Word Count: 635
Summary: Steve drives you around to help you sleep
Pairing: Dada!Steve x Daddy!Bucky x Regressor!Reader
Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Reader
Content Warnings: Usage of daddy and dada, riding in a car, getting carried/picked up, that's it :)
Authors Note: Look at me actually writing stuff!! More on the way 🐈 You can find more of my stuff in my pinned post and request more stories through the ask box.
Despite all your insomniac nights, taking a cat nap in the backseat of Stevie's car was surprisingly peaceful.
bump! bump!
The crevices and rocky ground of Dada's favorite road warmed you and cooed the pangs and aches in your body. The dips were like being rocked by mother nature.
'thank you mama tree'
crunch! crunch!
Ah, that's the sound of your anxieties melting away. Really it's the gravel getting all crunched up but you know... same difference.
Your Dada was in love with these backroads. Tomorrow while you down some fruity pebbles, you'll tell him again that they really should get married. They see each other all the time! It made trips take longer but that just meant more time with Stevie.
bop! bop!
The tapping of your head against the window was actually quite gentle. Sometimes it hurts and that's when you whine to Stevie that "ow it hurt dada whyyy!!?" and to get you to stop, he'd get your favorite fast food (it was the plan all along and Stevie most definitely knew-). This time, Dada was driving super, duper slow so the bumps didn't hurt. They soothed you instead and made you very, very sleepy.
Your legs were tucked close to yourself. You laid curled up like a cat in the cold winter. In better days, you'd find your position annoyingly uncomfortable but you were so eepies- I mean sleepy.
It was kind of like leaves falling from the really tall trees in the rainforest. Sleep didn't come fast but crept up on you.
You enjoyed watching the view go by the window and the mental image of a little superhero doing parkour, racing with Dada's pickup truck. The trees had all sorts of colors and some animals hop, hopped, and peeked out from the bushes.
Everything eventually becomes grey, then black. But you don't mind. It's so calming, this rest your eyelids have found.
'Oh, they closed? Ooooh that's why the superguy disappeared.'
hmm hm hm hm
m
m
hmm
mm
"Welcome back, Steve-O." Bucky stood at the door frame, hands resting in his jacket pockets.
Steve placed his pointer finger on his lips and tilted his head, indicating that you were asleep.
Bucky firmly nodded and held a gentle smile. 'You're finally asleep! Aww, you deserve it, little dear.'
Your dada traded places with Bucky, leaving to go get himself ready for bed.
Daddy peeked through the windows, and then he found you, with your little head against the car door. He walked around to the door opposite of you, and moved very carefully as to not wake you.
Snores filled the air and Bucky had to hold back a giggle. He thought it was so freaking cute, don't worry!
"Come here, little one." He whispered and securely held you up against his chest. Warm and snug.
Your daddy walked into your bedroom, where Steve had been waiting and prepared your bed for you.
"Here you are, darling." Daddy laid you down.
Buck and Stevie kissed the top of your head and tucked you in.
"Goodnight, our sunflower."
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idesofrevolution · 2 months
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The Journey of Dr. Santana Fabrega
There's nothing quite like your bro slobberin' over your sweaty feet while tokin' on a hookah. Let me just tell you- everybody's happy. I'm stoked to be stoned and minty fresh, and he's happy to taste my ripe size 12's. Who isn't the happiest? The folks. Sure, I dropped out of college, sure I started focusing one hundred percent on my art, sure I have a parade of guys out of my little basement lair... but I never got why they had to be such fuckin' buzzkills.
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Ever since they joined that church when I was at uni, my parents have been sucked into the Evangelical cult. Not the whole lifting your hands up to Jesus & speaking in tongues sort of church, by the way. Man, they're out there with picket signs at sex clinics, bannin' books at the high school, all that crazy fuckin' Christian Nation bullshit. They're my parents, so I love 'em and whatever. But fuck, those psychos really fucked 'em up. So now, their crusade is "curing" me of my gayness. Didn't really matter that I'm pan, they don't really know the difference. They don't really care about the difference, though. Not straight, not right.
So when they caught me the other day with Sam cleanin' my dick in the basement, it was World War 3. Man, a Nuclear Bomb would have less energy than my mom's hysterical shrieking. It's Florida, so it's nothing the neighbors haven't heard before. But, shit. I thought my eardrums were gonna pop. They stomped off upstairs, bein' all 'we are going to talk about this later, Santiago.' So, I let Sammy finish up, I pulled on some shorts and I went upstairs to face the fire while he snuck out the basement window. Fuck, I wished I were him.
The 'family meeting' went about as well as you'd expect. Threats of burning in hell for all eternity, demands that I find the Lord, etc. Apparently he doesn't like a lot of things about me: my weed, my tattoos, my sexuality, my piercings, my hair for some reason? I don't know man, I just tuned out after a while. What I did catch, though, they were sending me to substance abuse counseling. Couldn't help but laugh, and that sent dad through the fuckin' roof.
"Doctor Fabrega is going to teach you some manners, young man. Make you a Godly man, like you should be." Yada yada yada. He should have known better than to give me the doc's name. After the ass reaming, I made my way back downstairs to the computer. It took five minutes of research to find this Doctor Fabrega. Turns out he's a Christian Therapist, but that wasn't what was most interesting. Down in his specializations, buried beneath substance abuse & cognitive behavioral therapy was a word that caught my eye: licensed Hypnotherapist.
I knew exactly what kind of bullshit they were tryin' to pull on me. But when I was enrolled at U Miami, my major was Psychology. Not only that, but I still happened to have access to the university library. Oops.
I texted Sammy, knowing I was gonna be up all night doing research, and that my dick would need some appropriate attention under the desk. I was gonna show this motherfucker just how sick it really is to be like me.
---
The waiting room was bullshit. Cold white walls, bright wood floors... It looked straight out of an IKEA ad. I'd already been there for like 20 minutes past my appointment time, giving me just enough time to scroll through the last chapter on my phone. I hear the receptionist call out my name, and I head toward the office. Just as bullshit as the waiting room. It's like the guy wants to live in a psych ward- no color anywhere. At least get a blacklight or something.
"Santiago Rivera. Welcome, I'm Dr. Fabrega." The guy was hot as fuck, not gonna lie. Looked like he was straight out of Sao Paulo- even with the fancy suit you can't hide muscle like that. "Please, sit. It's so good to meet you." His voice was so weird. Speaking every word with like, perfect diction. You know those AI voices that talk that way? That's what it was like, as if he were trying so hard to hide an accent underneath.
"Just call me Santi, doc." I plopped down on the leather chair, might have put my feet up on his coffee table (don't recall), and he just looked at me like he was looking in a microscope. No idea what the deal was. He walked over to the couch and sat down with my file and started to drone on.
"Alright, Santi, it says here that your parents are pretty concerned about your behavior lately. You're 23 years old and a college dropout, you take illicit drugs, you have no job, and you're having unnatural thoughts. That's quite the list, bud." He was so fuckin smug, that sort of punchable glibness that only comes from a particular kind of self righteousness. Like Jesus himself came down and kissed them.
"So, first off. I did drop out of college, because I couldn't afford it. Second, I sure the fuck do smoke green because it's a) fun, and b) prescribed to me by my real doctor. Third, I do have a job. I do graphic design and graffiti art and I pay my own bills with it. And last off, yup: I fucked him." He sat there, somehow shocked that I told him how it was right off the bat. I'm not playing his little game, and that made him angry.
"I see. So you have no remorse for any of this? I believe your parents are very right to be concerned about where your life is headed."
"Fascinating, considering I'm moving out at the end of the month and they won't need to deal with my life. So. You married?" He was thrown off by that, just as I'd hoped. Right out of the blue. Knocks them off kilter for a second. An easy question to answer, so they usually do.
"Uh, well, no I'm not married. Is that your concern in all this?" Man, I couldn't help but laugh. He's trying to be sarcastic?
"Where did ya go to school for... whatever this is." This made him close my file, he even put it on the table and crossed his arms.
"I went to Liberty University, top of my class in their Doctor of Psychology program. You, it seems didn't make it that far, so you might not know what 'this' is." Oooh, he's big mad. I thought, let's push it. I did what most of my guys love, but would piss him off, I kicked off the Vans. Made sure I wore my skating shoes that day, the super ripe ones with the same damp socks. When they came off, those puppies let their presence be known.
"Sounds boring. Boring then, boring now. I got accepted into the Art Institute in Savannah, so I'll be headed that way soon. Be legit soon, then you wouldn't have anything to say. How's your sex life?" He thought he was so tough, not flinching at the musk, nor my question. But I knew both hit him right where I wanted. The question to make him mad, the stink to get him hot.
"Santiago, I think we should continue with our session. You can put your shoes back on and we can try some exercises to help you think a bit more clearly." I crossed my ankles, wriggling my toes a bit.
"I think they need some air. Are you gonna try and hypnotize me now? Or is that the last ditch effort when everything else fails?" He leaned back in his seat, the grimace growing stronger. "That stuff is not that hard to master. A couple days really and you got it down."
"Is that so?" He ground his teeth as he spat out his words. "It seems you know all there is to know, then." Time to hit it home.
"You know what, let's put money on it, doc. Hundred bucks says I can put you under." I got him, his eyebrow shifted just enough for me to see.
"This isn't a casino, Santiago. I don't bet money on client's health." I couldn't help but smirk. He left an opening I couldn't pass up.
"Aight, no money then. If I put you under, I get the bragging rights. If I don't, I'll play your stupid games. Win-win for you, nothing to lose but your dignity." Hook, line and sinker; he leaned in, grabbing the remote on the table next to him. He tapped a button, and the shades started to come down.
"Well then, Mr. Rivera. I wish you luck."
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The room got dark. Really fuckin' dark. Fabrega hit another button on the remote, and a cool blue washed over the room. Gotta say, tight LED system. I kicked my shoes off the table, and scooted my chair forward. Showtime.
"Alright, Santana, I want you to just take deep breaths." He squirmed at my use of his first name, one last dig before I brain fucked him. He took his deep breaths one at a time, slowly getting deeper and deeper. "As I count down from one to ten, each number will bring you closer and closer to relaxation. Picture a long tunnel, at the end, a bright white light. With every number, you take a step forward to the light, do you understand?"
He nodded, it was an induction I'd made up this morning. I started from 10, telling him his first step he could feel the tingling relaxation in the tips of his fingers, slowly crawling up his hands and forearms. 9. Another step, the tingling creeps up his big muscly arms and shoulders. 8. One more step, the tingling is pushing up his neck and throat, reaching his tongue and teeth. 7. The tingling bursts into his head, a paradoxical rush of relaxation, a fog of dissonance washes over his brain as thoughts collide and crash about. 6. The tingling washes down his spine, flowing through his nerves into every part of his body. His body feels electric, a painless jolt running throughout him. I watched as he tensed up, his big muscles contracting and bunching him up. It was working.
We get to 5, starting at the crown of his head, the volts decrease, turning lugubrious and liquified like molasses sloshing about in his head. 4. The light is so close he can feel the heat, but his body is cooled as the syrupy fluid flows down over him like a waterfall, pooling in his big feet as it fills every crevice. 3. It feels as if he's trudging through mud toward the light, his legs feeling wobbly and gelatinous. 2. So close, his whole body feels like a massless blob, inching toward the final drop into the cavernous light. 1. He crawls toward the ledge, plummeting down into the endless void of bright white light. There, he will sit as I have a little bit of fun.
"Alright, Santana. Can you hear me in there?" Fabrega nods, expressionless. Fuck, that was maybe a 80/20 chance I was gonna fuck this shit up so bad. But I guess God really is on my side here. "Whenever I ask a question, you will answer truthfully. Whatever I say you will incorporate into your life. Now, Santana, what do you do when you're not at work?" His lips moved slowly and replied in monotone.
"I go to the gym, I go to the golf course, I hire my date, and I go home." Ooooh shit. He's giving my friends on the corners a decent living, good for him. Hardly a Godly thing to do. Either way, it was a perfect place to start.
"You love going to the gym, don't you, Santana?" He nodded. "You love gettin' all sweaty don't you?" His head began to shake, his expression furrowing a bit in disgust. "No, Santana. You love getting all sweaty. The feeling of those cool droplets on your hot muscles during a hard workout? Doesn't it feel good?" He pauses, before reluctantly nodding. Ahh I love gettin my fingers in his brain, never ceases to please. "You love that funk that comes off your sweat, Santana. You love sniffin your pits, your big feet, your balls... That musk means you're workin' hard. Keeping in shape. Staying virile. Isn't that right?" He nodded, squirming in the chair. I watched his body try to reject the instructions, try to rebel, but just one repetition had his back to stillness.
"You don't even like golf, do you?" He nodded, I didn't even need to manipulate him. "You much prefer hitting the beach, don't you? Seein' all the guys and gals starin' at your glorious bod... You love it, don't you?" He nodded, the side of his lip curling ever so slightly. "You love bringing out the speedo, letting the goods hang low, letting the buns bulge... you know they all wanna see it anyway..." He nodded again, it was like taking candy from a baby. The guy had the mental fortitude of a frog.
"You like fucking, too. You can have any girl or guy on the street with a single wink." He nodded, and I couldn't help but watch as his groin started to bulge. "Yeah, boy. You love taking that horse cock and plowing it into some ass... plowing it into some pussy... fucking their pretty little mouths..." Drool started to drip from the corner of his lip, and a little wet spot quickly appeared on his pants. "You're a freak, aren't you, Santana? You like fuckin' in the car, in the sauna, at the gym, under the desk... gushing gallons into them while you shove your sneaker on their face." He was moaning, slowly grinding against the open air. Can't lie, I was gropin' myself a bit just watching him.
"Now, Santana. I'm going to bring you back to your office, but when I do, you are going to be super laid back and chill with Santi during your sessions. If he says the word 'sniff' you will return to this space, return to an open mind, just as we have done here today. Do you understand?" He nodded one final time before I began his emergence. Counting back from one to ten, I watched as he slowly came back to the real world, and with one snap, he blinked his eyes and wiped his brow.
"Well, doc. I got the bragging rights." Fabrega pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. Time to see if it had all paid off.
"Uhh... yeah... Santi. You got me there..." Perfect. He pulled his hand away from his nose, clicking the shades back up to their little hole. It didn't take long until he saw the wet patch on his bulbous package. He chuckled under his breath. "You'll have to excuse the mess, Santi... I have hyperspermia, so sometimes it all just flows out." Hot- and totally unprofessional. Just how I like 'em. I leaned back in my chair, smirkin' the whole way.
"Damn, doc. Firehose down there. Gonna have to show me sometime." He smirked and waved me off.
"I don't fraternize with clients, Santi. Oh, look at the time. I'm late for my 5:30. Alright, I'll see you next week." He stood up, extending his hand, his whole demeanor entirely changed. I slipped my Vans back on, spitting on my hand before gripping his. He shuddered a bit, sure. But we were gonna get real close, real quick.
---
The next few days flew by. My folks were so excited to see that I was looking forward to seeing Dr. Fabrega, and I loved knowing what they didn't. I was excited to see if Dr. Fabrega was gonna be Santana. So when I finally got back in for my appointment, I didn't need to wait long at all. Only five minutes and the door swung open, the receptionist completely flustered. The anticipation was killing me. She sat down behind her computer with tunnel vision and I walked into the office.
At first, I thought it was empty. He wasn't sitting at his desk, on the couch... but as I heard huffing from the balcony, I knew where to find him. I walked up to the sliding glass door, and turned outside to see one hell of a sight.
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It was Santana. Nothing on but his whitie-tighties and his damp socks doing pushups on the bench. Fuck, those muscles were glistening in the light, his underwear with damp patches on his ass and bulge. His clothes sat in a pile near his head: jeans, a Miami Heat jersey, some sick dunks I wanted to steal... far from the stuffy suit he had on just the week before. He finally noticed me, and smiled.
"Santi! Hey! Just finishing up my lunch workout. Thought I'd get a session in today on the balcony. Damn, the fresh air is good for exercise!" I smirked. It was night and day. So far, gone was the bible thumping hypocrite, and here was what was underneath. If anything I was doing him a service.
"Shit, Santana! You're looking prime today. You gonna funk out our session today, or?" I punched him in the shoulder, and he giggled like a kid.
"It's eau naturale, my friend. Natural water. That's what it smells like." He slipped on his jeans and his big fuckin' sneakers, tossing the jersey over his head while we walked in. He trailed some deliciously ripe musk, and I couldn't help but savor a bit of it. We plopped down on our seats, and just started shootin' shit. I bitched about the parents, he bitched about his receptionist, I told him about Sammy suckin' my dick clean, and he told me about the threesome with a gym bro and his girlfriend. He was coming along beautifully. Though, I thought to myself, how's about a round two?
"Dude, by the way, those kicks are fuckin' tight." I pointed to the dunks, which he smugly kicked up onto the coffee table, showing them off.
"Thanks, man. They're the lifting shoes. My work boots, heh." I reached out, grabbing ahold of his foot, and yanked it off. He chuckled like a fuckin' idiot while I looked at 'em. Size 13, nice and big- and the smell wafting out of there... Fuck, man.
"Damn, dude you never wash your socks? These stink!" I playfully tossed the shoe at him, and just as he started to brush off the comment, I said my magic word. "Sniff it." Like a flipped lightswitch, his expression turned numb, slowly bringing the shoe to his nose and inhaling his own musk. I clapped my hands, rubbing them together: let's do a little more programming.
"Santana, You're a pretty chill guy, you know that?" He nodded. "You smoke, don't you? You know, the good shit?" Deep in his mind, he had to know it was me talking at this point, so I was talking to him like a bro. Establishes trust, ya know? He shook his head no. "Ahh, come on man. You love kickin' back and toking on that reefer after a long workout." Santana chuckled a bit, before nodding, still nose deep in his sneaker. "Yeah, you love smokin' out your bros, your babes... when you're not shootin' tequila!" He full out laughed on that one, nodding along. The sneaker slowly dropped from his hand, and he laid back in his chair.
"How old are you, Santana?"
"28." Shit, he was only a few years older than me. I mean, he looked young. But hell, you wouldn't have known it from the way he acted.
"Where are you from?" "Rio de Janeiro." Interesting. I clocked the accent. I was pretty proud of myself.
"Why do you try so hard to hide it? The way you talk, the way you dress, the way you act... You act like you're from Ohio." Another chuckle, I should have had a Netflix special. "You're gonna embrace that Brazilian pride, bro. Don't hide it for some mayo drinking buzzkills!" He furrowed his brow, nodding intently. This one was for his own fuckin' good. Be proud of that shit! "You should get some ink to really embrace it. Nothin' sexier than a tatted up stud, am I right?" He nodded again, his bulge once more springing to life. I smirked, simply wanting to know a little something somethin'.
"Do you think Santi is hot?" He sat there for a second, before slowly smiling and nodding. I didn't even need to program that one. Aww, big old himbo. "You're not afraid to let him know, are ya? I mean if you tell his crazy fuckin' parents that he's cured... He wouldn't be your patient anymore... Right?" His bulge twitched again, and he smirked devilishly as he nodded. "You like it when he's all up in your brain, don't you? You like it when he gets his dick deep in there and mind fucks you into a chill, laid back stud. Don't ya?" The dampness grew and his breath got heavy. He nodded, drooling down the sides of his cheeks. "Yeah, you wanna let him in completely, don't ya? Make you like him?" Moans grew, and his thrusting in the air quickened pace. "You wanna be best bros with him, don't ya? Bros with benefits... hangin' out, smokin' weed, hittin' the clubs, swappin' spit... swappin' cum... swappin' subs..." He started fuckin' howl. He was beggin' to splurge. "When I tell you, you will cum. And when you do, everything we talked about will be your truth. Now... Cum."
His eyes opened, still moaning loudly. He gripped onto his jeans, pulling down the waistband and underwear, that big old uncut donkey dick flopping out before shooting his load all over himself. Volley after volley. He wasn't kidding about the hyperspermia: maybe four double shots of his spunk sprayed like a geyser into the air. The 8th Natural Wonder of the World. He laid back and chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head.
"Fuck, brother!" The thickest accent flowed of those lips, deliciously thick. "After today, that'll be down your throat, cara." He pointed at me, hopping to his feet and shoving his python back into his pants. "So, I'll write your discharge papers, it'll get the pais off your back. Act the part until you're out, and just go live." Fuck yeah, we high fived, and I ruffled that sweaty mullet of his. "Hey, come over tonight. I got some friends comin' over... if you and Sammy wanna join." He winked and slapped my back. Damn, I did good.
"I'll be there, man! You save me a round so I can show you how to clean this dick." I groped my bulge, smirking as his bit his lip and winked. I've created a monster.
---
"Ei, sexy! Come get a toke before it's gone!" Such a demanding little bitch, I love him. I slipped his filled condom off my cock, the kinky fucker insisted, and I happily complied. If I'm being real, this psycho has taught me things! I flushed it down the toilet, and swung the bathroom door open to see him lounging on his bed, toking away at the blunt I packed.
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"Hey you fuckin' hog, don't you smoke it all!" He chuckled dumbly, reaching over to hand me the blunt, taking the opportunity to snatch my wrist and pull me forward into a kiss. Fuck those lips were so good, pressed against mine or around my cock. "Isn't Carrie coming over soon? You gonna be able to get off so quick?" I pushed away, taking my puff.
"Ahh, plenty to go around, eh?" He groped that musky bulge that I had a feeling Sammy would be huffing later. "Ey, bring me my pants. We can go get a shot before she gets here." Heh, the last month or so crashing with him has been fuckin' sick. The folks think I'm rooming with some guy from the church, when really I'm gooning with my therapist every night in his bed. Savannah is letting me take online courses, I'll have my B.A. in a couple of years, and I'm already getting some gallery hits. Santana is gonna be my armcandy for the opening, and I told him to forget his deodorant. Fuck he’s perfect. But a thought had crept in my head the other day. One last program, one final idea planted in his head... Though, at this point, there was no need to put him under. I'd just ask him.
"Hey, so I gotta go to Georgia to finish up some paperwork at the school. It got me thinking... I'm followin' my dream. What about you?" I tossed him his pants and passed the blunt, taking a deep whiff of those ripe dunks before throwing them his way too.
"I could go back to the practice, though I think the bible thumpers would lose their minds, heh."
"Well... What we did for eachother... What if you did it for others?" I slowly got down to my knees, a smirk crawling across my face. "What if you could help those poor... misguided young men change their lives?" I crawled toward him, spreading his legs wide as I tossed his legs over my shoulders. "Wouldn't that be so... so... fun?" I slowly pulled down his musky briefs, releasing his monstrous cock again, the musky hooded beast slapping me on my cheek. "Then, we could have so... many... new.. friends..." I pulled down his slimy hood and wrapped my lips around his tip. I should have known better. His hand grabbed the back of my head, slamming it down onto his spear, my nose buried in his bush as he thrust back and forth into my mouth.
"Unff... Yeah, brother... Oh yeah... That sounds like a good... unhhhhh... good idea." Grunting, slapping, moaning, slurping... it all rang out in his room, until he gushed another thick load down my throat. "You wanna join me?" And in that moment, I smiled. It was the best idea he'd had yet.
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273 notes · View notes
soft-mafia · 8 months
Text
Treasured Chest [Buggy x Reader]
warnings: fem reader, shenanigans, Buggy’s entire torso being stolen, spanking, Buggy detaching his penis, cockwarming, humiliation, crack porn, belly bulge, weird fetish I have no idea what this even is, nsfw, this is downright awful
a/n: Buggy gives me mad cute aggression I wanna smush him and smother him with love. Also, this is kind of leaning towards anime Buggy more than live action Bug; he’s just so darn cute😭 this is actually very very weird I’m not gonna lie to you guys
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“ALRIGHT CREW!” Buggy shouted, standing with one leg up on the railing of the ship, “This will be our greatest raid yet!! I can already smell the treasure!!” Buggy couldn’t help but giggle gleefully before looking back down at the map that Y/n had so graciously translated for him, “Ok men, East it is!!”
So far it had been a peaceful sail, the air was cool and it wasn’t too humid. While Buggy was looking out at the sea, taking in the scenery, Y/n had sneakily slithered her way up behind him. She had a cheeky smile on her face before biting her lip, admiring Buggy from behind.
She poked his back, causing the man to scream out in surprise, very loudly, his body becoming a scattered, jumble of floating limbs and parts. Y/n’s eyes beamed as her eyes locked onto Buggy’s torso, she instantly snatched it out of thin air and ran off to the lower deck with it. “HEY!!!! WHAT THE- GIVE THAT BACK!!!!” Buggy barked after his girlfriend.
However, Y/n had already ran off, down to Buggy’s cabin, locking herself inside.
Buggy growled and yanked at the door handle, “OPEN UP!! I CAN’T PILLAGE WITHOUT MY TORSO!!”
“Well I can’t take a nap without my favorite pillow!” Y/n giggled, stripping down to just a bikini as she got comfortable on Buggy’s warm chest, letting the cool breeze of the sea air blow in through the window to cool her off.
“Favorite pillow..?” Buggy mumbled to himself, then growled again, “MY BODY ISN’T YOUR PILLOW!!! You’re so going to GET IT once I get in there!!” He yanked at the door handle a few more times before catching his breath, his arms and head floating since he didn’t have his torso to connect to them.. “OPEN UP!!” Buggy banged on the door, “First you steal my jacket, then my pants— NOW MY BODY?!”
It had been hours now and Y/n hadn’t budged. Buggy, Mohji, and Cabaji were stationed right outside of the locked room. Buggy paced back and forth, resting his hand on his thigh since he had no hip to rest it on while his other hand held his chin in thought. “I say we use some man power to break the door down.” Cabaji suggested.
“This is still my door you know that right?!” Buggy grunted, “This door is the least of our concerns. Our main focus should be how to get my body away from her clutches. Y/n isn’t gonna back down without a fight, she just loves stealing EVERYTHING FROM ME!!” He shouted the last part of his sentence, making sure Y/n heard that from inside of his room. Buggy turned towards Mohji, “You know how to train beasts, right?! Surely you picked up some tips on how to deal with women!”
Mohji’s eyes widened, the color draining from his face, “Are you kidding?! Women are a completely different kind of beast!! I don’t want to risk my arms and legs for YOUR body!!” He shivered lightly, “To be honest I’m a bit scared of Y/n.” He mumbled.
“WELL THEN DISTRACT HER WITH SOMETHING!!” Buggy growled, “That’s what you do with animals, right? Distract them with a juicy steak!!” He paced in thought again, “But what would be Y/n’s ‘juicy steak’?”
a little while later..
“Hey, Y/n!” Mohji said, leaning against the door, “I managed to snag Buggy’s hat! And one of his old bath towels, ya want em?”
Y/n opened the door slightly, peeking through the crack to glare at Mohji, looking at the what he was holding, she then gasped, “Oh wow! You actually did get them!!” She beamed, stepping out.
Buggy and Cabaji were hiding directly behind Mohji as he tried distracted her, although upon seeing Y/n wearing nothing but that tight bikini, both of their faces began to blush a bright shade of red and it seemed as if all thoughts had suddenly been erased from their brains. Buggy nearly had a heart attack and jumped out, covering Y/n up with what little body parts he had, “DON’T JUST STEP OUT LIKE THAT!!!” He shouted at Y/n, then growled at his subordinates, “STOP STARING AT MY GIRL!!!”
Y/n squealed when Buggy jumped on her so suddenly, then gasped when she saw his torso beginning to fly back over to him, more than likely to reattach to his body, “NO!!” She shouted, pushing herself out of Buggy’s grasp to lunge at his flying chest, tackling it to the ground, “Nice try, Buggy!! But I’m not giving it back!” She wrapped both of her legs around his waist, her arms around his back in a way that made Mohji and Cabaji fluster even more.
“STOP OGLING HER!!” Buggy screamed. “S-SORRY CAPTAIN!” Both of them men said in unison.
Buggy’s arms zoomed towards Y/n, grabbing both sides of his torso and beginning to pull against her grasp, “LET GO!!”
“NO! YOU LET GO!!” Y/n shouted.
“YOU LET GO!! ITS MY BODY!!” Buggy spat back at her, one of his hands pushing over her face to try and push her away from his torso, “DAMMIT!! Why do you have to be so DIFFICULT!!” Buggy growled, then successfully pushed Y/n back, finally reattaching his torso to his body, “AHA!!!”
Y/n fell back onto the ground, rubbing her face for a moment before looking up at Buggy as he now towered over her. She couldn’t help but feel both intimidated and aroused.. the way he was standing over her with an amused, yet pissed off look on his face, his body casted a shadow over her. “Yknow what, Y/n? I’ve been kind of slack with you stealing all of my stuff.” He reached his foot out and pressed it between her legs, the heel of his boot pressing against Y/n’s clothed pussy and making her whimper, “I think it’s time to show you who’s really in charge here.. I think it’s time to show you your place.”
Buggy had dragged Y/n out onto the main deck by her arm, still wearing her skimpy little bikini, she was now bent over his knee as Buggy’s entire crew watched her from below. “It seems like this little girl thinks she can just steal things from me! Taking advantage of an old man’s feelings for her.” He wiped away a fake tear, then gave Y/n’s ass a firm, but not as rough slap; it was hard enough to make her yelp, “But I have my limits!! What do you say, I teach her a lesson?!” He yelled out to his crew, to which they all responded with a loud, cheering roar.
There was no way Buggy’s crew hadn’t fantasized about Y/n before. And now, seeing their captain’s girlfriend being bent over like that, wearing almost nothing at all.. this was just a dream come true.
Y/n’s eyes widened at how loudly they were cheering.. for this. “I’m sorry Buggy! I won’t do it again I swear!!” She pleaded as she felt him pull her bikini bottoms down below her ass. “Quiet!” Buggy growled with authority, bringing his hand up, only to bring it down harshly on Y/n’s bare ass, making her jolt and yelp out, her legs already trembling. Buggy’s crew gave another cheer at that spank.
Y/n whimpered and put her hands on Buggy’s thigh, wiggling her hips to try and get out of this— but Buggy was keeping her pinned down bent over his knee with his forearm. Buggy lifted his hand and spanked her ass again, making a louder noise this time, and earning a louder squeal from Y/n, “Look at that jiggle! That’s a nice ass right there! I really am a lucky bastard!” Buggy laughed, rubbing his chin before spanking her roughly again.
His crew was hooting and hollering, Buggy began to spank her harder, and harder, until her butt was burning and sore. Y/n was whimpering, and trembling— the way he was bending her over made it to where whenever he spanked her, he was also slapping her pussy. With each strike she was feeling both burning pain and agonizing jolts of arousal. “Buggyyyy!!” Y/n whined out, before screaming as he spanked her again, hard on her little pussy.
“This tight little hole.. all mine.” Buggy chuckled darkly. He took two gloved fingers and rubbed them up and down Y/n’s folds, spreading them, showing off the cunt that he fucked so many times before, “Y/n thinks she can just— take any part of my body whenever she wants!” Buggy announced to his crew, “She thinks she can use my body however she wants..” Buggy grinned, spreading Y/n’s legs forcefully as he kept her bent over his knee, her ass and pussy fully exposed to his crew of horny men, “But she knows that’s not true.. she knows it’s the exact opposite actually!” Buggy laughed and gave one of Y/n’s sore ass cheeks a firm pat to punctuate his sentence, “What better way to show Y/n her place.. show her that she’s my girl for me to use..!” Buggy’s grin grew wider as he undid his belt with one hand, “Let’s see how she handles pillaging with my cock shoved full into her!” Buggy laughed as his dick flew off, making his crew “ooo” and “ahhh”. Buggy took a firm hold of Y/n’s ass and spread her wide. His cock drew back a couple of feet before it zoomed right into Y/n’s hole.
Y/n screamed out, her eyes rolling back into her head, drool slipping from her lips, “GHHUUHH~!” She moaned upon impact with her cervix; her cunt was completely full and filled with Buggy’s girthy cock.
He quickly pulled her bikini bottoms back up, sealing his cock within her canal, leaving her full with a sore ass and shaky legs.
Buggy’s crew was cheering, wolf-whistling and hollering loudly. Buggy stood there, Y/n panting and whimpering, bent over his knee still being displayed as he laughed with his hands on his hips, “That’s my girl!!” He slapped her ass again, then grabbed a handful of a cheek, jiggling it around for his crew as she moaned and whined out.
Upon making it to their destination, Buggy made Y/n fight and raid while having his cock fully inside of her. He stood behind her after she finished with a pesky bystander who wanted to be a hero. Buggy but his hands on her hips and rubbed the bulge his cock made in her belly, “Look at that! A fuck doll and a killing machine!” He laughed, “The best of both worlds for a man like me!” He cackled while Y/n was panting and trembling, her knees buckling together as she was covered with sweat.
After a long day of raiding with a thick cock in her pussy, Y/n flopped onto the bed once she trembled her way back to Buggy’s quarters, laying on the bed with her ass(which was still sore) in the air. Her pussy was soaked, the crotch of the bikini bottoms were drenched with her own juices. Buggy stood at the edge of the bed, arms crossed as he took in the sight before him, “That taught you, didn’t it eh? All a girl needs is a little discipline once in a while!” Buggy grinned, his jaw clenching as he slowly peeled off her bikini bottoms.
Y/n moaned, her pussy pushed Buggy’s cock out with a wet squirt, it flopped onto the bed, throbbing and covered with her cum and juice. Buggy sucked in through his teeth as he admired the gape in her cunt, “Nice and swollen, what a good pussy should look like.”
He slapped her cunt, making Y/n moaned loudly again into the bedsheets.
The next day
Buggy was grumbling, washing his hair after Y/n nagged him into taking a shower after weeks of putting it off. Once he turned the water off and stepped out into the shower room, he looked around, scratching his head.
He could’ve sworn he had put his personal towel around here somewhere.. but where the hell was it?
Somewhere on the ship, Y/n was giggling, curled up with Buggy’s towel wrapped around her, feeling engulfed with his scent.
“Y/N!!!!!!!!”
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l0ngschl0ngking · 1 year
Text
Apology won’t cut it
Tim Rockford x f!reader
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summary: Tim forgot about your anniversary…how can he make things right?
warnings: SMUT (oral -f!receiving, vaginal fingering, somnophilia -with estabilished consent, reader and Tim talked about it before-, unprotected p in v, reader “hangs” onto those shoulder holsters while Tim fucks her, creampie,(1) spitting on pussy, praise kink, biting), talks of infidelity, cursing, mentions of food, mentions of reader being pregnant, fluff -it’s me…so :)
word count: 4.3K (how that happened? - i don’t know either)
A/N: Tim is hot and I have things for detectives/agents with shoulder holsters (*cough, cough* Seeley Booth)
You met Tim a few years back through your friend. Normal Sunday brunch turned into you confiding to her – telling her that you worry that your husband might be cheating. The past few months he was spending more and more time in his office – the fact that you saw his new personal assistant a few months back who was much younger and prettier than you didn't help.
Susan, your friend, tried to soothe your worries but when you started being a babbling and a sobbing mess – you've spend most of your life with your husband and the thought of him cheating on you cut your heart deeper than you thought it would – she sighed and withdrawn something from her purse. A small plain business card layed between her neat fingers.  
She passed it to you with a few tissues as well and when you finally wiped all of your tears away,  you looked at what was written on it – both of your eyebrows raising in a question.
“It's a private investigator. I hired him when I had a suspicion that Richard might be cheating on me as well. Turned out he was just working extra shifts so he could buy me an engagement ring.” She grinned at the memory and you looked at her finger – the diamond ring he bought her shining in the daylight sun. You offered her a little smile – happy for her. Richard was a nice guy – sweet and genuine and you didn't know how she could think he was cheating on her – he kissed the ground she walked on. “But really, he is great, sweetie. A little pricey but he does his job well. It doesn't hurt that he is easy on the eyes too.” She winked while you bit your lip in contemplation.
A few days pass since your Sunday brunch and you think about calling the number numerous times – then telling yourself that you shouldn't doubt your husband's loyalty. Though when he left this morning without even kissing you on the head as he normally would – not even sparing you a little glance, you were more certain than ever – you were going to find out what was going on once and for all. Even if it should break your heart.
When the other voice on the other line says “hello?” you get nervous. You are really doing this.  
“Hello, uhm – I, ugh- I’d received your business card from a friend and would like to hire your services. Are you busy or-?” Smooth. Real smooth.
“No, not really,” he chuckles - the cigar he was smoking dangling from his lips, “would you like to meet at yours or at my office?” His voice was a little gruff but very soothing at the same time. You try to imagine what he looks like – didn't sound like a young man, maybe someone close to your age range – not that you were old or something.
You quickly scribbled the address where he worked as you found it more appropriate that you rather meet him at his office than if he should invade your own home.
When you arrive at the address he gave you, you found yourself in front of a small brick building – the doors are pretty mahogany color but creaky and when you enter it looks bigger than on the outside. Various small offices with different names on glass windowed doors surround you and you look for his business card in your purse – forgetting his name.  
Tim Rockford – it says on the card and you squint your eyes when you see doors with the same name on it far back. You stride with confident steps towards it even when you are not feeling that way at all. You knock – one time, two times and the third time a small gruff “come in” can be heard from the other side of the door.  
When you step in the first thing that hits you is the cigar smoke and you cough a little – you hate smoking. Then you finally see the man in question. He looks a little older - the bags under his eyes make him seem that. He quickly stands up from his leather chair that creaks and offers you a small smile which you uncertainly return. He is handsome in a ruggish way. His hair is short and has a few silver strands mixed in there as well,  and his beard is patchy – that is something very endearing about the fact. His shoulders are broad and you think he should buy a bigger shirt as this one is straining against his frame – not that you mind that much.  
He quickly puts out the cigar when he sees your nose wrinkling at the smell – observant as well. Not bad. He reaches his hand out to you and you take it – his grip is strong but not in an unpleasant way and his palms are a little sweaty. He clears his throat and offers you his name which you do the same in return. He sits down and gestures to the older-looking armchair sitting opposite him. It's comfier than it looks.  
“So, what brings you here, m’am?” You scrunch your nose for a second – not feeling that old but don't say a thing about it. Right, let's cut right to the chase.
“I-I think my husband might be cheating on me and I'd like for you to find out if that's true.” He doesn't look at you weirdly or anything – as you thought he would. He just nods his head and asks your husband's name which you provide.  
“That's all I really need. I will find out all of the other information myself and will call you if I will find some clues. Sounds good to you, m’am?” You nod and give him your phone number – the phone you called him from being the house landline.
A few weeks pass, Tim calls you often or you go to his office – recently you started inviting him to your house as you started feeling more comfortable around him – all of the clues hint that your husband is really cheating on you and he tries to make you feel better about it – cracking jokes here and there and you appreciate it even though it doesn't seem all that professional.  
Today he brings a folder with him. The yellow one you often see in some kind of crime film that holds photos of the victim – and when he enters he throws you a sad smile. You know what it means but you try to not think about it. You offer him tea and he hastily accepts – he knows that you already know. In the past few weeks, he got to know you and he noticed that you try to occupy yourself with other things when you are nervous.  
He sits on your leather couch – you bought it last week – and he watches you make the tea in your smaller kitchen. When you sit down next to him you put the cups of tea on the glass table. He passes you the folder and when you open it a few tears flow freely from your eyes. You were expecting it. You really were but it still hurts. You feel sick as you throw the folder next to the cups – not really in the mood to look at the pictures of your husband sticking his tongue into someone else's throat. Tim lands his hand on your shoulder – trying to comfort you. That's when you throw yourself at him, hugging him close to you and he doesn't reciprocate the hug for a while – it's not professional at all and he shouldn't but when you sob into his work shirt his heart breaks and pulls you closer to him. Slowly stroking your back and kissing the top of your head gently.
You stay like that for a while – him rocking you while stroking your back and telling you “what an idiot your husband is for treating you so poorly” as you try to compose yourself. And when you do- you pull away a little – looking into his eyes, maping out his face with your eyes. He's handsome – you noticed the first time you've seen him but after each time you've spent together you started appreciating his ruggish handsomeness more and more. You'd never admit it but you've touched yourself at the thought of him a few times – feeling guilty afterward not knowing if your husband was cheating on you. You felt like you were the one cheating after every time you got yourself off at the thought of Tim between your thighs.
“Kiss me.” You whisper as you look at him and he shakes his head – feeling like he would take advantage if he did.  
“No, you're in a bad mental state right now and you don't know what you are saying, sweetie.” The nickname of endearment falling from his lips is first and you shake your head in protest – pulling yourself on top of his lap and he doesn't have the strength to stop you as this is something he wanted for a long time too – you were not only a client to him. Not for a long time, anyways. You were smart and funny, and beautiful and he liked you a lot. Even if he really shouldn't feel this way.
“I wanted this for a long time, Tim. Please, just kiss me, will you?” You don't have to tell him thrice, he surges forward to meet your wanting lips and grabs your hips and you start grinding down on him. You moan when you feel him harden under you and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours – it's frantic and passionate and you feel him everywhere at once. His hands are pulling your tank top off and he cups your tits when they come into the view – pulling away from the kiss. He starts kissing your cleavage, his hands trying to quickly unclasps the bra if that piece of clothing offended him and you on the other hand try to unbutton his shirt. Getting impatient you huff and he notices – he always does with everything. He slows the pace down and unbuttons the shirt himself while getting distracted multiple times – you're kissing his neck and he moans when he feels you nip at the sensitive skin behind his ear.  
When the shirt is finally off you immediately start paying attention to the newfound flesh – kissing and licking a path across his shoulders that you oh, love some much and dragging your tongue lower – circling his nipple with it. He groans and throws his head back – the vein on his neck popping with the movement and you bite him there, soothing it with your tongue. He grinds against your mound and if you keep going he will for sure cum in his pants like a fucking teenager. He pushes against your shoulders softly and you start to protest but he shuts you up with his mouth once again. It's slower and more sensual – his tongue fighting with yours lazily and unhurriedly. He finally unclasps your bra – his greedy eyes taking you in. Palming them in his hands it's your turn to moan and he grins – his thumbs stroking the sensitive nipples. He brings his head to take one into his mouth and you can't do anything else than writhe on him – your hands are in his hair and you massage his scalp. He groans against your bud while the other hand strokes your other tit and you feel like you've gone to heaven and back. You didn't feel this good since – well actually never.  
When he is happy with his work – the bitemarks on your tits will leave nasty bruises for a few days for sure – he slowly puts you on the leather couch. You are sweaty and it sticks to your skin but you don't care – not when Tim is trying to get rid of your shorts. You don't wear anything underneath and you swear you can see his eyes goes entirely black – his pupils blown wide and his breathing quick. He lowers himself onto his tummy and you are confused for a second before you realize what he is doing. You try to protest that he doesn't have to but he just “shhh” you. His mouth is on your inner thighs in no time and his beard causes a delicious burn on them. He is slow with it – trying to enjoy every second of it but you are impatient. You tug on his hair and growl – slapping one side of your inner thigh mumbling a quiet “impatient girl” before he licks into you without a warning.
You cry out – your head thrown back and your back arched, the hands that are in his hair grip him tighter and he moans into your cunt with an unspoken agreement for you to keep doing that. Not many men went down on you – certainly not your husband – but Tim looks like he is enjoying this more than you if it is possible. His nose bumps into your clit with every lick – you feel yourself squeezing around his tongue. One of his hands makes its way to your open mouth and he sticks two fingers into it – coating them in your saliva. Pulling them back out he creates a path with them from your mouth to your neck, then under your neck, on your tits, down your tummy and then pressing two of them against your pussy – exchanging his tongue with his fingers while he sucks your clit into his mouth and it doesn't take long before you are cuming, after all, it has been too long since anyone made it seem like their life goal was to make you cum – the moans and cries of his name echoe throughout the living room with the wet sounds of your pussy squeezing his fingers while he fucks you through the aftershocks of it all.
When he finally stops – you have to push his mouth away from you feeling overstimulated – he just grins against you and sits up – balancing himself on his heels while he cleans his fingers humming at your tangy taste on them. You are exhausted and your lashes flutter against your cheeks but you can hear the clang of his belt and his words echoing in your ears: “ We're not done in the slightest, baby.”
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You try to wait for him. You do. But your eyes feel heavy – you already ate the dinner you made for the two of you – Tims's favorite meal – lasagna. You put the rest of it along with the portion into the fridge – scribbling a quick note that if he feels hungry the leftovers are in the fridge. You look at the time: 23:03. And that's when your phone dings.
Hi, baby. Don't wait for me, I am still at the office working on that crazy grandma case . Love you, xoxo
You sigh in defeat. No apology, no nothing. You expected it, to be completely honest. He was so wrapped up in this new case he sometimes forgot what his name was. But you felt that he was married to work and not to you – not that you two were married but you get the drill. You understood it, he worked hard for the position he now has and you too are a workaholic yourself – the money you won at the court after the divorce was put into opening your little bakery. But to forget about your 5-year-old anniversary? That seemed over the top. You don’t bother answering him – putting your phone away you put the dirty dishes in the sink – you will wash them tomorrow morning. Keeping his favorite wine on the table in case he will want it when he comes home, you grab the little envelope.  
“Seems like it's just me and you again, little bean.” You smile sadly while you caress your stomach – Tim didn't know yet but you hoped you would tell him tonight. Guess not.
As you make your way into the bedroom you lock the door and turn off all the lights. Brushing your teeth and hoping in the shower for a quick wash you think about if you should have kept the envelope on the table – no, you will tell him tomorrow after you won't be mad at him anymore. After drying yourself you tuck yourself in and put the envelope into the drawer on your bedside table. Sleep consumes you quickly – you've felt exhausted for the past couple of days.
Tim comes home long past after midnight. He's exhausted and he just wants to plop on the bed next to you. He puts the keys onto the kitchen counter and wonders in the kitchen – the kitchen lits up when he puts on the flashlight in his camera – you like to sleep with the bedroom doors open and usually wake up if he turns on the lights. He furrows his brows when he sees the wine on the table – the single rose in a small vase in the center of it. He stalks towards it and sees that it's his favorite. And then he sees the dirty dishes and the small note on the fridge – dread takes over him when he sees the date on the calendar and he lowly curses at himself.
He forgot your fucking anniversary. What a fucking moron he is. He ventures into the bedroom to see if you are already asleep – if not he will apologize profusely even when he knows apology won't cut it this time. When he sees you fast asleep he sighs and slowly creeps into the bathroom to brush his teeth. The weight of what had done – or more so what he didn't – creeps on him and he decides that he will cook you breakfast tomorrow and take you out somewhere nice – maybe even finally do the thing he'd been dreading to do for over a half a year now. When he is finished brushing his teeth he returns to the bedroom to put his guns away. You are sleeping peacefully even when he turns on the light on his bedside table.  
You look so pretty in the dim light. Your hair is sprawled on your pillow and it's too warm in here for you to be covered – he can see your legs and the curve of your ass. He licks his lips and he is not so tired anymore. An idea pops into his head – you've talked about it before but never really tried it – maybe it would be one of the many steps of his apology.
He rolls up his sleeves and slowly makes his way onto your side of the bed. You are a pretty light sleeper and he thinks if you will wake up right in the start or if he can indulge a little. He kicks the covers that surround you and touches your ankle – the touch is light and gentle. His fingers slowly make their way up your thigh stopping on your hip and you jerk a little - you turn onto your back the flimsy tank top you changed into riding higher. Tim grins, slowly sinking onto the mattress. He kisses one of your knees and then the other. Slowly making his way up – he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and slowly tugs – seeing that you have nothing underneath. He always loved that about you. He caresses your thighs and kisses the inner side of both of them – trying if you will wake up he pokes his tongue out but you just mumble something so he keeps up his advances. Creating a path to your core he softly inhales and opens your folds with his thumbs as kisses your clit – you jerk a little but he hooks his palms under your hips to keep you still. His nose bumps against your clit with the first swipe of his tongue and he groans at your taste that he knows oh, so well. His tongue lazily licks into you and he is in no rush – enjoying the slow pace he slowly grinds his pants-clad hips against the mattress. It's not enough but he doesn't mind. Sneaking one of his hands away from underneath your hips he pushes one of his fingers in – you are soaked even though he barely touched you and he loves the fact that you are always so ready for him. You mewl softly and start to stir but he stops when your breathing gets even again he pushes two fingers inside of you.
The only sounds that can be heard are his harsh takes of breath and the wet suck of your pussy taking his fingers in – his mouth is now more relentless and so are his hips as he humps the mattress. His fingers curl and he tries to find the spot that makes you make such a pretty noise for him and when your breath hitches he knows he found it. He kisses your clit and starts setting a quicker phase. The tip of his tongue now flicks against your clit quickly. He can feel you start squeezing him and he moans when he feels your hands tug on his hair – the quiet “Tim” from your lips effortlessly. He mumbles a quick “good morning” even though it's not even 3 am yet.
You are right on the edge and when he adds a third finger it's all over for you. Your back arches and you cry out – his plush lips kiss your clit to work you through it and when he finally stops he pushes his cock out of his pants – stroking his dick with the hand that was in you just a few seconds ago. You are still sleepy and try to get a sense of what is happening but before you can think about it  Tim is kissing you and notching the weeping head of his cock against your entrance.
“Can I fuck you, baby? Can I fuck you silly?” You nod and he enters you with one quick swift of his hips – you can feel his balls against your ass and he tries to push even deeper. It's too much for your sleep-tired brain and you need to hold onto something – so you grab his shoulder holsters – they are cold and feel smooth against your palms and when you look up at Tim he snarls. “Yeah, hold onto me, baby.” And then he is pounding into you. The head of him pushes against your g-spot and he angles his hips just right. You can feel every ridge and vein of him and you feel him pulse in you – knowing that he won't last long. He grabs one of your ankles and puts it on his shoulder – you always said to him that shoulders like that were made for leg rest. With this new angle, he feels even deeper and you close your eyes – it feels so fucking good, his pubic hair is scraping against your clit and the gentles with hich he kisses your ankle while mumbling how “good of a girl you are for him” makes your heart ache with love for him.
He can feel you starting to squeeze around him and he bends so he can spit onto your pussy – it makes you cry out when you feel the wet press of his fingers on your clit. His are relentless and the sweat rolling off his forehead is making its way down his neck – his vein on it is popped and you'd like to bite it. The slap of his balls is lewd and the way he says your name – ordering you to be “good girl and cum for me” is making your head dizzy. It just two or so more thrusts before you are clamping down on his length and he moans – grabbing him by the neck you kiss him and start sucking on his neck – right under the himge of his jaw– and then he is cuming too – his forehead pressed up against yours. His hips try to push the cum deep inside of you and when he stops he falls next to your side, bringing you closer to him and caressing your spine.
“You think it worked this time?” You are still hazy from the orgasm, listening to his heartbeat slowing down and you just hum in question so he repeats it for you – you don't think about it too much and reach for your nightstand drawer putting the envelope you hid there into his hands.  
He opens it reluctantly and when he sees what's in there he can't contain his smiles and the few happy tears that spring out of his eyes.
“You serious? We're going to have a baby?” He laughs with joy and you caress his cheek – kissing the patch on his beard and then soothing it with your thumb
“Serious as I can be, babe. We're going to be parents.” you grin and he kisses you – smiling into the kiss and he thinks about the box in his suit jacket that has a small and elegant diamond ring in it.
He will propose to you tomorrow, take you out on a picnic or something. Yeah, he will do that.
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