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#i actually really really like his style it fits him so nicely!
risestarkiss · 4 months
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✨The Fashionista✨
Rise Ramblings #234
While watching “The Clothes Don’t Make The Turtle,” I noticed something.
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I found it interesting that Raph, Mikey, and Leo were content with Raph’s outfit choice until Donnie stated that he wasn’t “in love with it, ya’ know.”
Suddenly, Raph declares “I’m a disaster!” Albeit ridiculously endearing, it was a little strange to see his sudden shift from moderately content to absolute dissatisfaction. Huh…
Then, the disaster twins decide to help him out.
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Take a note of their outfit choices.
Raph tries on all of these fits and more.
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Donnie’s first choice is a mild “no.” Leo’s choice is a hard “NO.” (Not surprising, lol.) But then, the overwhelming consensus lands on Raph’s fourth outfit, which ended up being Donatello’s other pick for his brother.
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So, in summary, Raph tried on his personal choice for an outfit, of which they rejected. Then, ultimately, Donatello picked out an outfit for his brother, and that pick ended up being perfect. Hmm…
Then I noticed something else. In this episode, we never get a Donnie “curtain reveal” moment, to our disdain. I mean, Raph, Leo, and Mikey got to try on several different outfits in order to get their brothers' opinions before landing on that “perfect outfit, you know the one.” All of his brothers got to shine. Why not DonTron?
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Then it hit me.
The try-ons were to get their brothers' opinions and approval. And, for his brothers' choices, he was a major contributor in assisting them in pulling their looks together.
What if, bear with me, Donnie didn’t need the "curtain scene" because he was so confident in his fashion sense that he didn’t need to ask his brothers for help to pick out a great look.
…or they figured out how to break Hypno’s spell before he could get a “curtain reveal.” BUT STILL-
Look at his outfit choices in this episode. Some of his wardrobe changes were off-screen, but all of them were fire.
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(I added the baseball cap pic because it makes me happy. I wish we'd seen more of that fit.)
To me, he makes some really smart choices for himself, pushing the envelope of what is expected and taking chances: an open collar with no tie for a “black tie” event, a beanie and spiked wristbands for their “gansta look,” no socks with loafers (a viral fashion trend that actually began in Africa) with old man slacks in his reclined pose. *muah* Chef’s kiss!
But Don’s fashion sense doesn’t just shine in this episode.
In “Reparin’ the Baron” the boys go to Draxum’s apartment. Leo and Donnie show up in some extra nice “Sunday Dinner” twin drip.
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The gold is in the details. Everything Leo is wearing, Donnie rocks its compliment: for Leo’s round collar, Donnie’s is angled, for Leo’s blue shirt, Donnie’s is white, For Leo’s light slacks, Donnie’s are dark. Blah blah blah. It’s so good!
Look at the winter fit in Snow Day.
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Again, Donnie is Leo’s perfect compliment. As a pair? Fire.
Donnie has “the eye.” I can go on and on with examples, but I’ve said all of that to say this…
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In the future, we see that Donatello’s technology had major pull in the resistance. He had drone ships patrolling the skies. He built and designed Leo’s arm, Casey’s chainsaw-hockey stick, and Casey's mask. The list goes on…
But, when Donatello from the past see’s Casey’s clothing from the future, he says this:
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We know about the “Genius Built” brand. We’ve seen that logo on all of his tech up to this point. But, here he didn’t just say “Genius Built.” He said, “Genius Built Apparel.”
“Apparel” is not a tech brand. “Apparel” is a fashion brand. Of course, tech is incorporated into the clothing, but still.
This means that past Donatello secured this trademark with plans of creating a fashion brand, comparable to the likes of Gucci, Ralph Lauren, or any other modern clothing brand, as a subsidiary of “Genius Built,” the tech company.
And why not? The evidence has been in front of us this entire time. He has a sharp eye for style, fashion, and trends. It is easily canon that he can sew. Splinter sewed their ninja garbs in “Insane in the Mama Train,” and there is a sewing machine in the house.
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They already learned Ninjutsu through basically osmosis, so learning to sew is not too far-fetched.
And here it is, right in front of us, Casey’s entire ensemble, from mask, to weapons, to clothing, was made by Donatello in the middle of the apocalypse under the brand name “Genius Built Apparel.”
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And that was just in the bad future. Resources were limited, they didn’t have access to much of anything in that broken world as they were survivors of a devastating Krang invasion. Yet, he created all of this.
However, now that they’ve changed the future, his future as a fashion designer is limitless. Think of what Donatello could produce with unlimited resources, unlimited technology, and unlimited creative freedom.
Tech genius. Clothing designer. Fashionista. Future Genius Built Apparel Owner and CEO. I’m sorry, but I have to call it...
Donatello Hamato of the present, of the bad future, and of the good future is a fashion icon, the likes of which the world has never seen. ○○○○
Update: I've decided to make this concept into a mini-comic series!
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idyllcy · 4 months
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a pathological people pleaser
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word count: 4.4k
warnings: smut || pt 2 to and i wouldn't marry me either
summary: Jinshi's getting desperate to bed you.
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Jinshi contemplates what kind of a ring to get you. He really does. He looks through the designs that had been initially made for your marriage, but he finds inspiration in none of them. You would suit a ring that's crafted with only the finest of materials, not a ring that was just bought from the streets. Though, you had been going out with Maomao more often with some guards to have fun and buy food. At some point, the palace chefs are going to need to learn how to make a roujiamo that tastes like the ones on the street and not the fancy food that you had grown used to having.
He calls Maomao and Gaoshun for help picking a ring, but ultimately neither of them come up with something that would suit you. (He even asks his mother, but she is no help either.)
So, he rots in the confinement of your shared office, head spinning as he sketches more and more ring designs. The one of the current empress is nice, but it is not something of your style. The one that his mother had received was pretty as well, but not something that he desired to put on you. Perhaps a simple jade ring of your size would do better, but it seemed too plain compared to the kind of treatment he was supposed to give you. A simple jade ring would be fitting for him, but not necessarily for you. He would give you gold, but he wasn't quite sure what kind of a ring design would fit you.
He's gonna age from this, he swears.
Yet, he continues sketching at it between his paperwork, frowning at how big of a demand there are for eunuchs. The lower ranking concubines were still desperate, he finds. Perhaps especially with the announcement of his marriage... not announcement. He was married, but with the revealing of his marriage, it seems some concubines are getting desperate for some sexual release. Jinshi... really is no better than they are. He finds that he can't sit still around you these days.
He's... desperate. Yeah. Desperate is the right word.
"Rotting in here again?"
"You know, I'm starting to think you're actually Diu from your actions." Jinshi grumbles from his desk, shoving the paper with the ring designs to the side, catching your eye.
"To be fair, I am him, and he is me." You pick up the paper, tilting your head at the ring designs. "Designing rings for me? How sweet of you. Why not just use one from the treasury?"
"You deserve a new one." He groans. "I wanted to design one for you."
"Why not just gold?" You hum. "And then thread a pearl and jade orb through them."
"A jade ring would be nice." Jinshi hums, staring up at the pin in your hair. "To match your pin."
"Whatever you design." You hum. "I'm sure I will be satisfied."
"It has to be perfect." He mopes. "Or else I will not forgive myself."
"That's rather harsh on yourself." You hum, reaching for his brush as you sketch a design. "I liked the ring presented to the empress."
"The blue gem?"
You tap your chin. "Though, the gold isn't my favorite combination." You finish your sketch, noting down the color scheme, and Jinshi blinks at the choice.
"You just want a plain jade ring?"
"For the wedding ring." You blink. "The westerners are quite intriguing with the tales they tell. The women there boast many rings."
"You went to the west?"
You shrug. "A season is plenty of time to explore."
"She went to a port city." Maomao speaks up from the door. "Gaoshun is asking for the report."
"I sent it to him already?" You raise a brow.
"The one regarding the ceremony in the winter."
"Ah." Jinshi's fingers slide down the stack, pulling out a booklet between all of it. "Here."
Maomao nods, pausing as she catches wind of the ring design. "How about a ring with the royal family's seal?"
"I'm not becoming crown prince." Jinshi grimaces.
"I am sure the emperor would allow it regardless."
"I don't want a ring like that." You pause. "though, it would be quite a statement to wear it on the pinky."
"You want a divorce?!" Jinshi cries, heartbroken as Maomao leaves the room with the report.
"No." You shrug. "I might if you keep putting off the concubines' requests."
Jinshi jumps in his skin as he goes back to the papers, and you glance at the ring you've drawn.
"Carve a jade ring with a phoenix for our wedding ring. I do not desire gold." You hum. "And you are to have a dragon on yours."
Jinshi looks up at you, eyes gentle as he drinks in your figure under the setting sun, summer wind rustling the leaves outside, heat not too much to handle either. There is something delicate and breathless about you to him. You are worth so much, yet he had to spend such little time compared to the age of the universe to prove that you are his only one. Time is suck a fickle thing when it came to the clouds and sky. He supposes that's more a reason to treat you well and make up for time lost.
"Is that all you want?"
"What else would I want?"
"How about a jade pendant?"
"With the royal family's seal carved into it?"
Jinshi laughs. "Why not my last name?"
"Sure, pretty prince."
Jinshi flushes.
You have tea with Ah-Duo a lot during fall. The weather cools bit by bit, and you sit in your yard, peeling the sugarcane as she looks through the files, humming at your writing, each stroke nice and clean. She puts the papers down, a maid rushing over to take them to your study, and she glances at the sickle and cane in your hand. It seems you have found new talents outside of the palace walls. It fills her with a sense of warmth, almost.
"How do you feel about the new eunuchs?" She hums.
"Some of them are rather attractive." You hum, not paying much mind as you cut off a piece for the lady.
"Is that so? Yue would have a heart attack if he heard you say that." She takes the piece, popping it in her mouth as she chews, humming. "It's sweet. I like it."
"That's good." You laugh. "I had the chefs just hand me whichever one." You continue to hack at the crop with the sickle. "Jinshi would be fine."
"I doubt it." She hums, spitting out the dry cane into the bowl prepared beforehand by the maids. "He is rather protective when it comes to things he desires... you included."
"It is only recently that he has become protective over me." You hum, putting a piece into your own mouth as you chew. She was right. It is sweet. "Which is also why he refuses to become the imperial prince."
"You would make a great empress."
"I would." You chuckle. "I have been raise for the role, after all."
"Though, this is better." She smiles. "You are happier like this."
"Oh, well as empress, I suppose I would not do too much. Jinshi, though? That poor man."
"He would have quite the work set out for him." She hums. "Though, you would be there to support him."
"I suppose." You hum. "It would be better had you been ascended to the position of empress."
"What is done is done." She hums. "I find it more amusing that your talk with the emperor of letting me visit worked."
You snort. "I saw the chance and took it. It would be a shame to not host you at least once in a house that is now warm."
"I suppose so." She smiles. "Does it not hurt to cut the sugarcane yourself?"
"It does not." You hum. "My hands are stained with sugar, and I work up a good sweat. I find it fun."
"Fun?"
You snap the plant in half, handing the peeled half to Ah-Duo as you continue with the unpeeled half.
She bites it, humming. "It is good. Is there a reason to cut it? I no longer remember."
"It's so you can get the most of it." You offer her one of the knives on the table. "Be careful not to cut yourself."
"I will." She nods. "Have you learned anything else?"
"A foreigner showed me how to peel a pomegranate." You pause. "Oh, and I have developed a strange talent for peeling oranges. It is incredible how clean it can peel with the right tools."
She nods, popping a piece into her mouth.
"How are the children?" You tilt your head, cutting another piece to put in the central bowl.
"They are faring well." She hums. "They are children, after all."
"I suppose." You mumble. "Jinshi went a little insane on their family."
"Not to mention he had full right, holding the army seal." She chuckles. "I heard from the maids that the imperial court threw a fit upon the realization that you had been holding onto something so precious and had just casually given it to Jinshi in order to save a maid."
"Not just any maid at the time." You snort. "Jinshi's dear maid."
"Of course." She smiles. "Though, he had been in love you. He had simply pushed it down."
"Like father like son, I suppose." You mumble. "Has the emperor visited?"
"Not yet." She pauses. "Is he planning so?"
You turn your head at the sound of footsteps.
"Jinshi." You hum, smiling.
He steps over to press his lips to your forehead, smiling fondly at your juice-stained hands, only freezing when he remembers his mother is with you. "...niang."
Ah-Duo waives her hand. "How cute."
Jinshi flushes, and you chuckle, pinching his cheek.
"You needed something?"
"The emperor is coming for a visit, niang." He pauses. "To our residence. He will be visiting the tearoom."
You raise a brow at Jinshi.
Jinshi shakes his head at you.
"Very well." You grin, shaking Jinshi off of you as you peel the sugarcane with eerie accuracy, cutting the rest into bits for the late consort to enjoy. "You can take the bowl."
"None for me?" Jinshi pouts.
"The emperor matters more in this case." You shrug. "I shall send some maids to accompany you."
"Alone will be fine." Ah-Duo nods. "Thank you."
You smile as she leaves, and Jinshi takes her spot, pouting at the sugarcane she had left behind.
"I want a bite."
You take the plant from him, cutting pieces off for him, watching as he chews, reaching for his throat as he threatens to swallow. This fucking dumbass.
You pry his jaw open, ignoring the fact that your hands probably taste like some sort of sugar, ordering him to spit it out. He listens, dry cane spat into the bowl you've held before his mouth, and his spit slides down with hit, the poor male panting like some bitch in heat. You let go of his mouth, exhaling as you mumble. "Good boy."
The words ring in Jinshi's head and shoot straight to his dick, and he licks your fingers unconsciously, eyes half-lidded as he tastes the sugar on them. Wait.
fuck.
He was NOT supposed to do that.
You freeze as something brushes your knee, and you stare into Jinshi's eyes as he stares back up at you, blinking rapidly, praying you wouldn't point it out. The two of you meet eyes, and you back up, sitting back down as the two of you wait for the other to speak up. Jinshi refuses to speak up.
You break the silence. "I'll wait."
"Thank you." He mumbles, cheeks red in embarrassment as he rushes off to somewhere private.
This is awful.
some days you wonder how long Jinshi went without sexual release.
It's a strange thought, really. So, when you and Jinshi are wedded and you're waiting for him on the wedding night in your shared bed, you don't know what to think. Alright, wedded is the wrong word. The two of you are rewedded, and you are dressed in the robes the late empress had prepared for the two of you to sleep together in. You think it's too little, but apparently it's supposed to rile Jinshi up. Speaking of Jinshi, you wonder how he's dealt with getting boners. He... can't sleep with someone because he's a eunuch, but he can't just leave himself hard forever.
Jinshi stares at you from the door as you're lost in thought.
Skin. You're showing skin. He feels rabid at the sight— as though he were some carnivore in the wild, grew before his eyes. He feels as though he would go feral if he were to get his hands on you, so he stands there, collecting himself. He can't scare you off. He finally has you in his hands again, this time treating you properly, and he can't just scare you off because he's wanted to touch you for ages but couldn't.
"Jinshi?" You tilt your head at him, and he musters up a smile.
"I don't want to scare you." He pauses. "But I fear the maids did a little too good of a job with you."
He offers you a drink, and the two of you down it before you lick your lips to speak up.
"Why? You want to defile me?" You lean forward, almost as if to emphasize your point, and Jinshi flushes red.
"I really wonder how you learned to flirt like that when you were Diu." Jinshi sits next to you, fingers pushing your hair back as he leans in. "This is fine, right?"
"Would be funnier if I were Diu right n-" You're cut off as Jinshi presses his lips to have you shut up. He loves you, but god, were you infuriating sometimes. It was as though the winter and spring without him had changed you into a different person— not that he minded. You're charming no matter how you act or react. Your hair scrunches between his palm and fingers, and you tilt your head to give him better access, passion and longing staining your face as he presses his lips to yours and his fingers bloody with something he's wanted forever. Some sort of twisted passion beats from his chest to yours, a whimper spilling past his lips as you thread your fingers through his hair.
He only pulls away when you soften against him, chest pressed to his as he feels your muscles tensing from the lack of breath.
"You still with me?" He moves his hand out, your hair slipping between his fingers as you hang your head to breathe.
"I sure wish you weren't good at everything you did," You keep your head hung, unraveling his robes with ease, palming his cock through the fabric wrapped around his waist. Jinshi's hips shift slightly for more friction, and your hand presses down on his hipbone, forcing him to still as you pull on the strand to free him, licking your lips at his length. "I don't think you're going to fit, pretty boy."
"We'll make it fit." He hisses out as you let the spit on your tongue roll onto the tip of his cock, smearing the precum with your saliva, your fingers smooth against his length as you spread it. Jinshi whimpers as you do, the ring around your finger cool against his skin, and you lean in to stare up at him through your lashes, biting your bottom lip as your hand speeds up. Jinshi whimpers, hand flying to wrap around your wrist and hold you still, and you tilt your head, yelping as he takes your lips pushing you back into the mattress. You lean into the kiss as he tugs on the bow, string coming out and top falling off with ease as his fingers brush your tits, thumb pressed to your nipple, humming into your mouth at the feeling of it hard. "Let me take care of you tonight." He huffs, pulling from you as he forces your tits up with his hands, pinching your nipple to catch a wince from you.
"Mean." You pout, no real annoyance on your face, and Jinshi busies himself with your chest, lips pressing a kiss to the meat of your chest, biting down— almost as though to mark you as his territory. It irks him some days that the maids still have lingering crushes on you from when you were Diu. So, his bites trail up from your chest to your neck, canines crazing over your pulse point as he bites down, hands sliding down to hold your waist as you crane your neck and whimper. Jinshi leans to force his chest to yours, and your fingers curl uncomfortably next to you as he sucks on your neck, purple blooming across your skin wherever his lips were.
"You're so pretty." Jinshi mumbles, finally pulling his lips off of you with a pop, staring down at you as you're suddenly aware that you are bare. You try to hide yourself but Jinshi makes work of his hands swiftly, holding your wrists together as he rolls his hips against yours experimentally. "I wonder how much of my reading is going to pay off."
"Studying through indecent literature? How sinful of you." You arch your back as he pulls your undergarments off, spreading your legs slightly as he slides his index finger down your slit, taking note of the slick threatening to spill out.
"I'd say this is worse, though." He slides a finger into you with ease, and you whimper as he curls it, nails slightly grazing your walls, making you gasp. "You sound so sinful like this. I sure hope you didn't let any other man see you like this."
"And if I did?"
"Then I'd suppose I'd just have to ruin their life." Jinshi straightens his middle finger as he curls his index out of you, sliding both into you at once. You shift slightly at the stretch. Jinshi curses under his breath at how tight you are. He doesn't want to break you your first night. So, he spreads his fingers in you slightly, thumb on your clit as he tries to loosen you. Instead, you flutter around him, only a light gasp freeing from your lips as he furrows his brows. He spreads his fingers, trying to make space for a third and get a reaction out of you. Instead, you don't react, simply shifting your hips to accommodate the stretch from his fingers.
"Am I bad?" He pouts, thumb finding your clit.
"No." You breathe, squirming from his touch.
"Am I average?"
"Jinshi, I have no idea. This is as much of my first time as it is yours." Your wrists fight against the grip of his hand, and he lets them go, lowering his face to your pussy instead, hooking your knees over his shoulders as he pulls you up. You back arches dramatically as he wraps his arms around your thighs, and Jinshi presses his tongue flat against your cunt, licking up as you jolt. He watches as your pussy flutters around nothing, and he slides his tongue in, moaning into your against as he tastes you. So this is what you taste like— some mixture of sin and lust, nectar that would put even the sweetest of peaches to shame. It would drive Jinshi to madness, he supposes.
Your fingers grasp at the pillow above your head, whimpering with each flex of Jinshi's tongue, and his fingers dig into your thighs, earning a squeal from your lips as you feel something tighten in your stomach. Your eyes widen as your nails dig into the sheets and your back arches impossibly more, tears in the corner of your eyes as Jinshi sucks at your orgasm, ignoring the mess of slick sliding down his chin and splattering onto the sheets. You turn red in embarrassment at the mess, but Jinshi pays it no mind, continuing to lap at your pussy, eyes digging into yours as he puts on a show for you. You look away from his eyes, opting to make a mess on his tongue instead, eyes rolled to the back of your head as a second orgasm crashes upon you. Jinshi drinks it up just as eagerly as the last, eyes half-lidded as
Your legs shake as Jinshi lets you down, fingers wiping the slick from his face as he pumps himself with it, and then sliding his tip beneath the hood of your clit to further coat his dick in your cum. You shift against his cock, grinding lightly into him as he chuckles. "Patience, beloved."
"I'd say you're worse than me." You heave, walls fluttering around Jinshi's length as he slides in. He notices the way your skin lifts with him inside of you, and he presses down on the bulge, blinking slowly. You gasp, stomach flexing out of instinct, pussy clenching around Jinshi with a hiss. Jinshi stays still, thumb brushing your clit to incite a reaction from you, earning him a lewd whimper. The sound shoots straight to his cock, head spinning as he slides his palm up your abdomen to your chest, pinching your nipple as he swallows.
"This is fine, right?"
"Insecure?" You roll your hips in affirmation. "I wouldn't have married you or let you catch me if it wasn't."
"Tease." He grumbles, taking your legs and folding them to your shoulders, forcing himself further into you. You moan, clenching around him as he moves, holding you down by the hips as he slams into you with each thrust, gasps slipping past your lips and colors in your vision as he moves. Flowers blossom in your lungs as you try to catch your breath, head spinning deliciously at the taste of Jinshi's lips on yours, a light fragrance from the rice wine he had taken mixing with the one on your lips, and you moan into his mouth, squirming from his touch. Your legs relax over his shoulders as he presses into you, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs, hair sliding off his shoulders to cage you in as you whimper.
The wind rustles the trees outside as you cum around Jinshi the first time, brows knit together and eyes closed as your face twists from the unfamiliar sensation, head thrown back and lips parting once the crash ended, and Jinshi stills, hand reaching to brush your hair to the side, cupping your face with his hand. "You alright?"
"Felt weird." You mumble. "Did you..?"
"No." Jinshi hums. "Would you like me to? Inside?"
"I don't mind." You whisper.
"Alright," He starts moving again, focusing on himself as your legs slide off his shoulders and fall into the mattress, hooking behind his pelvis as he thrusts, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he pistons into you, your breath caught in your throat as you see white and stars, drool threatening to leak down your chin and choke you with your head thrown back and muscles tense. Jinshi pants into your ear as he feels himself get close, pulsing and ebbing inside of you with each roll of his hips, your name spilling past his lips in some sort of raw desperation and begging, only spilling into you once you call his name back through your cloudy haze, white painting your walls as white fills your vision, the same white visible in the air on the snowy trees.
His breath mixes with yours as he rests his forehead on yours, bare skin pressed to yours, sweat and cum mixing with your own, the two of you merged as one. In the distant past, you loved him until it physically destroyed you, and in the distant future he will love you until he is stuck in the same destruction that had dragged you away from him. Only then would he forgive himself, lips spreading into a gentle smile, eyes staring into yours as yours are closed, catching your breath as your chest rises and falls, vine of hickeys and bruises trailing down from your neck to your waist. Your walls flutter around him as you recover from another orgasm, skin flushed like peonies as Jinshi tilts his head to press a kiss to your shoulder.
"Still with me?" He presses his palm to your cheek, palm brushing your skin.
"Yes." You pant, grimacing at the squelch that sounds when he pulls out of you.
"I wonder if we'll be with child."
"I doubt it's this easy." You mumble, lashes fluttering. "Would you want one?"
"Up to you." He mumbles, reaching to the side to pour himself another glass of wine. "We do not have to worry about succession either."
"Oh, I've never been so thankful to have not ended up where I was supposed to." You sigh in relief.
"You do not want one?"
"Not my priority." You hum. "Unless you wish for one."
"You are my priority." Jinshi hums, offering you a glass. "Another?"
"No." You roll onto your stomach to stretch your back. "We have plenty of time as well."
"I suppose." Jinshi hums, holding his hand out for yours.
You give him your right hand, and he pouts.
"Your left. The ring."
You free your arm and hold it out, and Jinshi kisses your knuckles gently, eyes closed as he hums contently.
"We match." He smiles, lips curled into a gentle smile, eyes full of a warmth you had forgotten he was capable of. You smile, a laugh bubbling out of your chest as he fiddles with your fingers, some sort of domestic ambiance filling the room. And just like that, your anxieties fade away, and a smile makes way on your face.
"I love you." He hums, lips pressed to your forehead as he lays next to you, still holding your hand, his ring brushing against yours.
"I love you too." and you close your eyes, body relaxing into his, heartbeat one below the missing sun.
1K notes · View notes
gurugirl · 9 months
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Let Me Show You
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Based on this request
best friend's dad!harry x reader | forbidden relationship
Summary: Your best friend's dad, Mr. Styles, is quite good at giving advice, amongst other things OR How your illicit affair with Mr. Styles began
Word Count: 6.3k
Warning: 18+ only, smut, cheating, age gap
best friend's dad!harry masterlist
Mr. Styles had a way about him that you admired. He was sure of himself and was good at just about everything he did. He was also really good at listening and giving advice. When you told him about how your boyfriend had hurt your feelings and how you were considering breaking up with him he told you that you could do better, that you deserved better.
And you knew he was right. He was always right. So when you broke up with Randy you didn’t once look back or regret it.
To Mr. Styles: I did it. Thank you for your advice, Mr. Styles.  
You texted Harry as you got into your car in the parking lot of the sandwich shop where you broke up with your boyfriend.
Fae would probably call you weird for texting her dad. She’d wonder what you were doing with his number in the first place.
But Harry insisted you text him after breaking up with Randy. He said he wanted to make sure you were okay and that you’d gone through with it. That he didn’t want to hear any excuses as to why you couldn’t do it. So he gave you his number and he took yours, telling you that if you didn’t reach out to him he’d be calling you himself.
From Mr. Styles: You’re welcome, Y/n. Where are you right now?
You started your car up just as he texted back.
To Mr. Styles: The parking lot at Dixie’s. I’m about to drive home.
You could see that he’d read the text right away and your heart skipped a beat when you saw the text bubbles indicating he was texting you back.
Fae would also hate that you had the biggest crush on her dad. The biggest. It was unhealthy actually, the kind of crush you had.
See, Mr. Styles wasn’t just someone you admired for his confidence and thoughtful advice. He was also gorgeous. His eyes were seafoam, crystal green. His lips were pink berry tinted. When he smiled he had dimples that carved into his cheeks. His jawline was chiseled and his dark hair was thick and wavy. He was tall with a fit body and broad shoulders, tattoos, big hands, a deep voice, and the most sex appeal you’d ever seen in one person.
From Mr. Styles: I’ll meet you at your apartment. I’m in the area anyway. I’d like to hear how the conversation went with your boyfriend.
From Mr. Styles: Ex-boyfriend.
You’d just broke up with Randy but you’d already forgotten all about him as you texted your best friend’s dad back with a large grin on your face.
To Mr. Styles: Okay. See you soon!
Your apartment complex was a little run down. It was in a safeish area but it was what you could afford with your wage as a waitress.
When you pulled into the parking lot you spotted Harry’s car immediately. His car stood out like a sore thumb amongst all the used, beat-up, and older models.
You quickly walked toward his Land Rover and watched him get out. You slowed your stroll to take him in.
That was another thing about him. He always looked so well put together. Harry was wearing dark blue slacks with a crisp white button-up shirt tucked in, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a few buttons undone from the top down, leather loafers, and his hair was coifed on his head just so. Rings on his fingers, and his signature cross necklace, the pendant dangling right at the top center of his well-defined pecs. A gorgeous sight.
“Hello, darling,” he greeted you and pulled you in for an easy hug.
You hugged back and smiled as you pressed your cheek to his shoulder, he smelled nice.
Backing away from the hug you looked up at him, “Hi, Mr. Styles.”
He loved that you were so polite. So sweet. Yet he knew that you had a crush on him and that he loved the most.
You led him up to your apartment. This was the first time he would come inside. He’d picked up Fae a few times so he knew where you lived. But the idea that he’d be stepping into your little home made you feel nervous.
You kept your place tidy most of the time. You had pictures framed and hung everywhere. Some art pieces that you made yourself for fun. Your couch was cheap but it looked nice. Your rug was from Ikea and was a splurge.
But that wasn’t why you were nervous. It was because this man you’d lusted after for years was coming into your private space with you. Alone.
You weren’t dumb. You knew the implications. You understood on some level that Harry thought you were pretty. But of course, he was married. And he was your father’s age. So it was unlikely that this meant anything. But still. The fact that he was conveniently in the area and said he was coming over, knowing you wouldn’t say no… well it certainly wasn’t out of the question that something could happen.
Harry stood close behind you as you unlocked and opened your door, stepping in and allowing him space to enter behind you before you closed the door. Sunlight came through your windows and it was bright enough that you didn’t bother to flick on any extra lights out of habit. You didn’t like to turn on lights when you didn’t need to. Who wanted to pay a needlessly higher electricity bill?
You looked up at Harry as he scrutinized your space in silence for a few beats.
“S’nice, Y/n. Clean and uncluttered. I’m impressed.” He moved past you to look at your wall of framed photos.
You followed and stood next to him, “Well, what did you think? That I was a slob or something,” you chuckled as you looked at your photos.
Harry turned to look at you and the slight grin on his face gave way to a wider smile, “Okay, sassy girl. I was just giving you a compliment. No need to get mouthy.”
You laughed and looked down at your cuticles, not knowing how to respond exactly. He had you feeling a bit empty-headed in that moment.
But then you brought your gaze back up to his and remembered your manners, “Would you like something to drink, Mr. Styles? I’ve got water, strawberry soda, orange juice… uh… almond milk–“
“A glass of water will be perfect. Thank you.”
Harry watched you traipse to your kitchen quickly as he continued to look around as he sat down on your little couch and waited for you.
Harry wasn’t sure exactly why he was with you alone in your apartment. He knew he shouldn’t be there. He knew better than to entertain the kinds of dirty thoughts he often had about his daughter’s best friend. But, well, here he was. And you were adorable wearing your short cutoff jean shorts and white razorback tank top.
When you returned with two glasses of water you sat down next to Harry and nervously smiled.
“Thank you, darling,” Harry lifted the glass upward before bringing it to his lips and taking a big gulp. You followed suit and then placed the glass on your side table.
“Tell me about how it went. Did he try to change your mind?”
You swallowed and nodded, “It was hard. I hated doing it but also it felt really good. He promised me he could change and asked me to give him another chance. But I just remembered what you told me, about how I deserve better and I kept that in mind and stood my ground.”
Harry kept his eyes on you as you spoke and every bit of your body and skin that Harry’s irises landed on heated up from his gaze. You wiggled in your seat under his examination.
“Stood your ground. Good girl.”
You could have passed out. He’d never called you that before. And the way it sounded coming from his mouth had your throat going dry.
“You do deserve better, you know. You’re too good to waste your time on a boy like Rudy.”
“Randy.” You corrected.
“What’s that?” Harry raised his brows at you.
“Uh… his name is Randy. You said Rudy.”
Harry nodded slowly and looked down at your lips with a smirk before settling his gaze back onto your eyes, “Right. Randy. Definitely would be a shame to get his name wrong.”
You nervously laughed and shook your head, “Oh it’s okay! You know… I don’t care actually. Not important.”
Harry watched you squirm nervously as he licked his lips. As if he was readying himself for a meal. You did look mouthwatering. You pretty much always did. And he could admit that he’d like a taste at the very least.
“And what are your plans for the rest of the day?”
Shaking your head and shrugging your shoulders you looked down at your lap. His intense gaze was making you blurry and dumb. It was like listening to him speak another language and you had to translate the words in your head before you could understand and then respond.
“I’m… uh… was just gonna maybe call Fae. Go out later since I’m off tomorrow.”
Harry nodded, “And where would you go out to?”
You cleared your throat and kept your eyes down so you could breathe, “Thinking about that bar just up the street. We haven’t been yet and it’s so nearby–“
“I need you to look at me when you’re speaking to me.”
You’d never whipped your head upward so fast in your life. That was another thing about Mr. Styles. If he told you to do something you never hesitated. “Sorry, sir.”
He kept an easy grin on his face as he leaned his back into your couch cushions, crossing his ankle over his knee, and then moving his arm along the back of the couch, “No need to be sorry. Just want to see your pretty eyes when you’re talking is all.”
You could feel the warmth from his thigh radiating against your bare leg. You looked down to see how close he was sitting to you before quickly planting your gaze back on his.
He saw your glance downward and looked himself to note the proximity, “Am I sat too close to you?” You shook your head quickly, “No. That’s fine. The couch is small anyway. Can’t really help it.” You smiled and tried to chill out but the way he was dragging his irises over your skin and along the material of your shirt that stretched softly over your breasts before bringing them back up to look into your eyes had you sweating. And you hated that you’d begun to grow a little wet in your panties.
“Can I ask you a personal question? You don’t have to answer but I’m curious about something.”
You tried to focus your eyes on his and not look away as you swallowed and nodded, “Yes. Sure.”
He brought his arm across his body and touched the side of your neck, gently brushing the pads of his fingers against your pulse point causing you to inhale sharply, “This. Is this from Randy?”
You blinked your eyes and put your fingers on the spot he was touching and remembered that Randy had given you a hickey. When you first noticed that gave you a hickey it was quite large. You’d been covering it with makeup but now that it had mostly faded you didn’t think anyone would notice it.
You nodded, “Yeah. From a while ago. It was really big but now it’s mostly gone.”
“Did it feel good when he gave it to you?”
You dropped your mouth open in surprise. You hadn’t expected him to ask that. But you also didn’t want to not answer the man.
You smiled and dropped your hand down into your lap while Harry’s fingers remained on your neck, softly brushing at your sensitive skin, “It did. I hate it now because it’s from him, but… at the time… yeah.”
Mr. Styles nodded and you felt his thumb press over the spot before lowering down to the top of your clavicle.
“Did he always make you feel good?”
You were barely holding it together. Between the way he was touching your neck, and how intense his eyes were on you it felt like you were having an out-of-body experience.
“What do you mean?”
“You two had sex, correct? Or at least fooled around a bit?”
You began to pant as Harry’s finger wrapped gently along the side of your neck, his thumb at the front softly stroking your flesh. “Yeah. Um… not always. No.”
“Okay. Did he make you come?”
Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment as you sucked air into your lungs and felt his thigh press against yours.
Shaking your head you opened your eyes back up to look at him, “No. Never.”
Harry cocked his head and furrowed his brows, “Never? You’ve never made yourself come either?”
“Oh! I mean… yeah. I just mean that I never came with Randy. He wasn’t… didn’t listen.”
Nodding his head his furrowed brow softened, “Sounds about right. Has anyone ever made you come? Or just yourself?”
You knew he could feel the way your blood was pumping through your pulse point. Your heart was going wild in your chest as you watched Harry’s eyes darken, “Just by myself.”
“S’what I thought.” Suddenly Harry’s hand left your neck as he stood up from the couch. He put his hand out to you to grab, “Let’s do an experiment. But we’ll need to move this into your bedroom if you don’t mind.”
Harry pulled you up from the couch and kept his big palm wrapped around yours as he walked you to your bedroom.
Harry pointed to your bed as he looked at you. “Climb up, love. Don’t be shy.”
You let out a small nervous laugh through your nose as you sat on your bed and let your legs dangle off the edge. You watched as he got onto his knees in front of you and began untying your tennis shoes, taking each one off before pulling your socks off your feet.
He looked up at you softly as he put his hands on your knees, “Let me show you what it’s supposed to feel like. So next time some asshole says he doesn’t know how to get you off you’ll remember this and you’ll know the loser’s just too lazy to work for your pleasure,” he slid his hands up your thighs as you began to nod quickly. His warm hands gliding over your skin and to the fray of your jean shorts was more erotic than anything Randy had ever done with you.
“Is that okay? You want me to show you?”
You continued nodding as your breaths deepened. You could already feel your nipples tightening under your thin bra and you were positive Harry could see it.
“Is that a yes? I’d like to hear you say it to me. I appreciate the nod but your voice is too pretty not to use.”
“Yes, sir. Please.”
Harry grinned, “And I get a please too? So sweet for me.”
Harry sat up so his hips were against the side of your bed as he plucked your button from its spot and then unzipped slowly, “We’re gonna get these clothes off of you. I need access to all your bits. Understand?”
“Um… yes. Of course.” You pulled at the bottom hem of your shirt to pull it off but Harry grasped your wrists and tsk’d at you.
“Ah ah ah… Let me show you what’s it like to be treated as well as you deserve. We’re not in any hurry. Are we?”
Shaking your head you whispered, “No. Sorry.”
Harry pulled your hands to his mouth and kissed the inside of each of your wrists, “Don’t be sorry.”
Mr. Styles began to gently tug your shorts down your legs, leaving you in your yellow Sponge Bob panties. That was embarrassing. You hadn’t expected anyone to be seeing your panties and you’d totally forgotten which pair you threw on that morning until Harry smirked and inspected the cotton fabric stretched over your hips, “Cute. I like these,” he rubbed his thumbs over the edge of the fabric at your hips slowly before taking your tank top and pulling it up over your head as he stood up.
You were adorable. Little yellow cartoon panties and a white stretchy bra with a tiny pink ribbon at the center. Mismatched but practical he supposed. Didn’t matter anyway. They would soon be off.
Harry put his big hands on your hips and pushed you deeper into the bed, crawling with you. You propped yourself up by your elbows as he smoothed his hands up your tummy and to the underside of your breasts before bringing one hand down to your left thigh and pushing it outward just a bit. He turned his gaze to the fabric of your wet crotch. The yellow material was darker where your arousal had seeped out.
He licked his lips again and grunted as he thumbed along the elastic that clung to your inner thigh and he sucked in a sharp breath, “So wet already? Honestly, I didn’t expect this, Y/n. S’a very nice surprise for me. Do you get wet easily?”
You shook your head. Your lips were already parted as you began to respond, “No. Usually takes a bit.”
Harry grinned as he thumbed the wet patch on your panties and quickly found the spot where your clit was, “I consider this the highest form of a compliment. Like a little gift just for me.”
You let out a shaky breath as you watched him smooth his thumb over your panties and press into your button before bringing his digit to his mouth and sucking it into his mouth.
He had a devious smirk on his face when he pulled his thumb out and spoke, “No shower today?”
You gasped and tried to close your thighs together but he pushed your legs apart, his fingers digging into the soft inner part of your thighs. You put an arm up over your eyes to shield yourself from embarrassment.
It was true. You hadn’t showered that day. Not yet. You planned on going out to celebrate being single with Fae later on and you’d shower before that, but you hadn’t had the time yet. It’d been a little over 24 hours since you had.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Y/n. Your little pussy’s so fragrant so I just had to ask. Hate when it doesn’t smell or taste like pussy. It’s just another nice little surprise for me is all.”
You felt him pull your panties down your legs and you moved your arm to watch. You were mortified. You knew you were “fragrant” down there. Which was why you’d planned on showering before going out. But now you had your wet pussy bare and smelly before Harry Styles who pointed this fact out to you.
“I was going to shower before going out tonight…” you moaned when he dragged his thumb through your crease.
“You’re not going out tonight. You and I have work to do here. Don’t we?”
Your eyes were burning and your vision was fuzzy, which you knew to be from lust. You were so turned on that all your senses were being affected by him.
Nodding your head you spoke softly, “Yeah. Okay.”
Harry sat up and leaned over your frame his face coming in close to yours, “I forgot my manners completely. Got so caught up with you. Made me feel so needy that I nearly forgot we haven’t even kissed yet.”
You were just a melty little puddle of breaths and pumping blood under him as his lips pressed into yours. He tried to start off slowly. You could tell he was going in gently but you were shaky and out of your mind. You licked over his lips and grasped onto his collar to pull him into you and deepen the kiss.
Harry sputtered a laugh but was cut off when you licked your tongue into his mouth.
From there, Harry’s mouth pushed against yours hard and his lips and tongue guided your mouth. His fingers found your wet folds as he continued kissing you.
You gasped into his mouth when he slid two fingers inside of you. He hadn’t bothered to take his rings off and you could feel the metal against your soft skin as he pumped his long digits and in and out slowly.
When the bed was suddenly directly under your back, you realized he’d pushed you down flat as he parted from the kiss. He looked over your frame under him and his hands were sweeping over your bra before he kneaded gently, slowly pushing one hand underneath your back to unhook the clasp of your bra. You arched your back so he could reach it and the moment the metal hook was undone the stretchy fabric was pulled from your tits and Harry’s mouth was on you, sucking and lapping at your nipples
And then you heard him moan when he latched on particularly hard to one of your nipples and he placed his fingers back inside your cunt.
You could come. Just like that. His long fingers stretched and poked deep while his mouth worked over your tits softly before pulling your nipple harshly.
Sticking your fingers into his hair and closing your eyes you moaned loudly and began to writhe against his hand harder when you felt your orgasm close in. It was a shock how quickly it began to unwind but you were at Harry’s mercy and he was doing everything right.
Harry pushed himself up and smiled down at you with slick pink lips as he pulled his fingers from your cunt, “So sensitive too. How is it that you’ve never come with anyone, hmm? When you’re this reactive to me?” He circled his thumb over your clit teasingly and you bucked up into his hand and groaned just as he pulled it away.
Mr. Styles dipped in to kiss your lips again before moving down your body and hovering his face over your pussy as he looked up at you, “Do you want to come?”
You were already on edge, just about to tip into a new realm as you nodded hastily, “Yes, sir. I do.”
The smirk on his face was suddenly hidden as he lowered his lips to your clit and licked. The obnoxiously loud moan that fell from your lips had him laughing into your cunt as he lapped you up and reinserted his fingers.
His free hand held your opposite thigh down and the pressure that built up again was causing you to shake uncontrollably. You stuck your hands into his hair again and gasped at the way his lips worked your wet pussy, the way his fingers dug into you deeply and nudged into that yummy spot that you only ever got to enjoy with your vibrator.
“Ooh! My god! Mr. Styles! Mr. Styles…” You were powerless under him. The way he was sucking your clit into his mouth felt exquisite but at the same time, it was like your blood and guts were boiling hot and filling your limbs, searing your skin.
Harry hadn’t heard a woman squeal in a long time. He used to enjoy things like this with his wife but it had been a minute since she wanted to really play with him in the way he liked. All his skill and sex appeal were wasted all these years. But now he was getting to finally unleash his prowess on you. Such a delicate and sexy little thing. You deserved it. He imagined it more times than he should, doing the very thing he was at that moment, making you wobble and wet his face and shriek as you came.
He watched your soft tits shake and goosebumps cover your skin as he held you down and gently licked you as you came down from your release. It was incredible. So pretty to see you spread out and vulnerable for him.
When you finally opened your eyes Harry’s face was still between your legs. His cheek against your inner thigh as he looked up at you, “Better?”
You breathed out a laugh and nodded as you pushed yourself up to your elbows, “Yeah. Better.”
Harry sat back to his shins and you noticed right away the massive bulge pushing at the front of his pants. You reached your hand toward him and looked at the lump he was sporting, “Can I? Do you want…”
The grin on Harry’s face told you he knew what you were asking but he wasn’t going to let you off so easily. He wanted you to say what you wanted, “Can you… what?”
“You’re hard.”
“Tends to happen when I’m eating pussy,” he licked his lips with his eyes on you.
“Do you want me to… like… give you a blow job?”
“Hmm…” Harry squinted his eyes as he began to undo his pants slowly, “Maybe. Would you be against letting me fuck you?”
Your heart rate increased once again. Sex? With this man? You were nodding quickly before the words left your mouth, “Yeah. I mean… I’m not against it. I’d like that. I… I don’t have any condoms here–“
Harry pulled at your wrist and shushed you, “It’s okay. If you don’t want to that’s fine. But I’m clean. Haven’t been with anyone but Fae’s mom in a very long time.”
“Oh.” The reminder that Harry was married to your best friend’s mom made you step outside of the moment as you looked down toward where he’d opened his pants. His grey boxer briefs peeked out from under, his clear erection curving beneath the fabric. He looked so yummy and you’d love to feel him. But this was wrong, wasn’t it?
Harry noticed your hesitation and he pulled his pants up as he started to tug at his zipper but you were quickly reaching for his hand and looking up at him with those sweet eyes he couldn’t stop thinking about, “No! Please. I want you. I’m on birth control. So… And I always used a condom before so I’m good.”
Harry raised his brows at you in question, “Positive? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better are you? You want me to fuck you?”
“So much. Yes. Please.”
His lips smashed against yours when he pulled you into his chest. You could feel his heart pounding under his shirt. He was excited too.
When he’d gotten you laid back and spread out he pulled his pants and briefs off and removed his shirt. You were sure his nice clothes were going to wind up wrinkled with the way he tossed them into the floor but he didn’t seem to care.
And you’d seen his body before at the beach when you went swimming, and in his house when he walked around after working out and didn’t bother putting on a shirt… But you’d never seen his cock. And certainly not hard and leaking like it was.
His heavy shaft swayed as he positioned himself back in between your legs and he pushed the tops of his thighs to the back of yours. You couldn’t help it when you reached down to stroke him. He was thick and warm and the smooth, ridged skin felt delicious under your palm.
“Feels so good having your little hand on me like that, Y/n. Don’t think you know how many times I’ve imagined this very moment.”
You were still slick from everything before but you felt yourself clench and drip just imagining how good it would feel to have him stuffed inside of you. He was long too. So you knew it would reach into your cervix and make you ache in the way your vibrator did.
“I’ve imagined it too. I’ve wanted this for a long time, Mr. Styles.”
Harry keened and sucked at his teeth as he rocked his hips softly and began to slide the underside of his shaft through your folds. You kept your palm over the top of him as he moved up and down, slowly wetting himself with you. He kept his eyes on yours as he nudged his tip into your clit and then to your entrance, “You ready? You really want this?”
“Yes! Please!” Your chest was heaving in anticipation as you moved your hand from his shaft and held onto his forearms.
It was slow at first. He entered your tight muscle with a small snap and pulled back before pushing in deeper. You could see his muscles straining, his dark tattoos against his tan skin, his hair falling over his forehead, pink lips parted, nostrils flaring. He was enjoying your body. It felt good for him and you could see that.
“Holy fuck…” he grunted as he continued to bury himself deeper inside. He was already shaking like a teenage virgin. Your tight pussy wrapped around him, coated him, opened up for him slowly…
You choked out a garbled moan when he finally bottomed out. It was deep and you were right. Your cervix felt his tip kissing it with each thrust.
He began to roll his hips a little faster as he sat up and pulled your legs over his thighs, lifting your bottom off the mattress so he could fuck into you deeper yet and rub your clit to make you tip over the edge before he did. He knew he was going to come unbelievably fast. You were too pretty and felt too fucking good.
Harry’s hands stayed at your hips to keep you in place over his thighs as he plunged into your wet cunt over and over again.
“Hear that, Y/n? Hear how we sound together?”
You moaned a yes and gasped at how full he felt inside of you. It was noisy. You were absolutely soaked and the syrupy sound of his wide cock dipping into your drippy pussy, parting your walls was dirty. Soppy.
“How’s it feel, Y/n? Tell me what you need.” Harry’s words came out in panted breaths as rolled into you and released one of your hips to manipulate your clit with his fingers causing you to coo loudly.
“Oh! Mr. Styles! It’s so good. So deep, Fuck!”
Your bed creaked under you as he began to work into you even more and push into you deeper. You seemed to enjoy the way his dick poked into your cervix so he’d give you more of that.
“Yeah? I’m so deep in your tummy? Gonna give me your come? Let me feel you fall apart on my cock like this? Hmm?”
The view of his thick shaft, shiny and creamy with you as he plunged into your entrance, your lips gripping him tight as he pulled back and pushed in, was going to be something he’d be fucking his fist to for a long time to come.
“Yes! Please!” Your tits were swaying as he swiveled his cock into you painfully deep, hips pasted to yours, only pushing in deeper and deeper, balls tucked into your bum, slick with the way your arousal had melted down over him as he fucked into you.   
Harry gasped and clenched his teeth at the way you squeezed around him tightly.
When he finally pulled back to his tip you both caught your breaths. He was so close to coming and you were on the edge already. Just as he intended.
He gently thumbed at your clit and watched your face contort, small puffs of breath and whiney gasps falling from your lungs.
“Y/n. Can you look at me, sweet girl?”
You peeled your eyes opened and set your pupils onto his. You were already looking absolutely fucked out, in a total daze, and that made him smile.
“Where do you want me to come? Want to know beforehand so I’m not doing anything you’re not okay with. Because I’m gonna come very soon.”
You swallowed and blinked your bleary eyes. Harry’s chest was rising and falling heavily and his skin was flushed.
“Want your come inside of me. Is that okay?”
Harry breathed out a laugh of disbelief and nodded, “More than okay. S’perfect in fact. You’re gonna milk my cock good, aren’t you? Want me to fill your tummy with up nice and full?” Harry dipped in a few inches before backing out to the tip again and you whimpered.
“Yes. I want to be full with you.”
Harry closed his eyes and called on all his strength to not come that very second. Your soft rounded eyes looking at him in that way that told him you needed him while his cock was inside of you was nearly too much. He was obsessed. There was no way he wouldn’t want to do this with you again.
But the moment he had composed himself and gotten his second wind he looked back down at your pretty body lying under him and he began to move into you again, getting deeper and deeper until his pace had you being pushed upward at each thrust. Your tits bounced and your bed creaked. Harry's hips rocking into yours was harsh, his skin smacking into yours, wet slushy sounds.
His thumb circled over you tightly again and you moaned as you grasped his thighs bent under yours.
Your eyes began to flutter as your body lost all control of its motions. Your mouth dropped open and your face twisted up. Harry watched you contort your mouth and the little noises you were making egged him on to pound into you harder as his thumb worked your clit back and forth.
Everything was wet. Harry’s whole lap was drenched in you. You’d dripped down your thighs and over his balls on the tops of his thighs. It was the exact kind of sex he’d been missing for so long. Messy and smelly and hot.
You suddenly gasped and then went quiet as your orgasm began to take over. You clenched and pulsed over Harry with your mouth wide, your entire body trembling.
“Ooh fuck me… Fuck, Y/n… Oh shit…” It was too good. Too decadent. The way your cunt clamped down and spasmed around his heavy cock sent him over the edge.
And just like he said, your pussy milked him for everything he was worth. He pushed into you deeply, groaning your name between curses as his balls tightened and emptied into his long shaft and pushed out the tip, spurts of his warm come flooding your insides as he stilled his hips against yours snugly.
You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you as he moaned your name. You forced your eyes open to look at him. To watch as he orgasmed inside of you, his come claiming your body and ruining you for anyone else. His head was thrown back and he held your hips possessively as he emptied everything he had into you.
Your brain was fuzzy and your ears rang as he lowered himself down over you and brought his mouth against yours softly.
He was still pulsing the slightest as your mouths moved together lazily. You put your hands into his hair and sighed into the kiss. You hadn’t felt so content in a long time. Maybe ever. He truly did know how to do it right. He said he was going to show you what it was supposed to feel like and he did. Now settling for anything less just didn’t make sense.
When he pushed himself up to look down at you he had a haphazard smile on his face, “How was that?” He knew the answer.
You laughed and grinned, “The best. Better than my vibrator even.”
Harry breathed out a laugh and shook his head, “You gonna let me do that again sometime?”
“Thought you said you and I had work to do and that I can’t go out tonight?”
He furrowed his brow, “Yeah?”
“So, I kind of thought… we’d do that again. Like later. Since it sounded like you were gonna keep me busy all night. Or did you not mean that?”
Harry laughed and you got to see his gorgeous dimples before he pushed his nose against yours, “You want it again tonight? I wasn’t sure you’d be up for it. But we can certainly make a night of it. I do have to leave at like nine so no one wonders where I am.”
You turned your head to look at the clock and then back to Harry, your smile giddy and wide, “Good. I’ve got you for five more hours then.”
“Mmhmm…” he hummed against your mouth and kissed you before looking back down at you again. “But I meant beyond tonight too. I think we could have some fun together.”
You bit your lip. You couldn’t believe the kind of day you’d had. It started with dread when you woke up thinking about how you were going to break up with Randy. And now here you were with Mr. Styles’ cock stuffed inside your pussy, his come starting to leak out onto your comforter slowly as he asked to extend this little affair. How could you say no?
“Yeah. That sounds really good. I think we could have a lot of fun together too.”
Read next: Desperate
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honeydazai · 7 months
Text
୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬  pregnancy headcanons𝆬 𓏸
feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Fukuzawa, Fyodor, Poe, Nikolai, Sigma, Jōno, Fukuchi
content: f!reader, pregnancy and related symptoms, soft....
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If you truly believe that DAZAI is anything but awfully flirty during your pregnancy, you're wrong. He constantly mentions just how gorgeous and breathtaking — or, in certain situations, outright hot — you look, making sure that you never have any reason at all to feel insecure about yourself, even if you gain quite a lot of weight. Like he cares; he's fond of all women, after all, but especially you, and, in his eyes, it's impossible for you to be anything but beautiful.
That also means, though, that he won't keep his hands off you, constantly fondling your now larger chest, your hips and stomach and everywhere he can reach, really. Deep down, he doubts he'll make for a good father, though he's determined to try his best for the sake of your small family. This includes shedding his usual lazy attitude and helping you with household chores, as well as laying off the alcohol, hopefully.
“You're terrible, bella. Honestly awful — how am I supposed to get any of those papers done when you're next to me, looking this irresistible? It's like you're trying to set me up for failure. Ah—, but I'm sure Kunikida will understand if I take a small break, hm? Get over here, darling.”
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CHŪYA suddenly spoils you even more than he did before the announcement of your pregnancy, though, really, he's just awfully overjoyed. The thought of actually getting a child with you, a true family, still seems surreal to him, like a situation out of a dream rather than something that can happen in reality and, for a moment, he wonders whether he's deserving of something this wonderful. Unfortunately, he's rather busy, but, naturally, he makes as much time to be with you as somehow possible, rolling his eyes at Mori whenever another oh so “urgent mission” comes up.
To make up for him occasionally not being home, you get Kōyō, as well as Higuchi, Gin, Hirotsu and Tachihara who make sure to constantly keep an eye on you. Even if you're simply going out to get some ice cream, one of them accompanies you — and, luckily, they make for surprisingly great friends. While Chūya's life style, being a dangerous ability user who works for the Port Mafia, isn't the safest, he's fairly content that he'll be able to protect you and your child from any harm whatsoever — he'd give his life for yours, after all.
“Hm? I'm not mad. I just—, not at you, at least. I wanted to take ya out on a proper nice date tomorrow, made a reservation and everything, though the Boss just assigned me some apparently important mission. Yeah, I know. Sorry, sweetheart. I'll make it up to you, yeah? Ah, it's already paid for, though. You can take Kōyō or Gin, if you like. They should be free tomorrow. Sorry. I love you.”
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FUKUZAWA never felt for anyone as strongly before as he now does for you, meaning he never imagined himself to eventually grow old surrounded by a loving family, with a partner and a child, even. It sounds too perfect to be true, not like a situation that'd fit into his current life, and yet he finds himself overjoyed after overcoming the initial disbelief, his smile dripping with love, with affection as he gently meets your lips in a kiss, arms immediately curling around your body to hug you close.
During the pregnancy, he's all the more protective of you, unwilling to ever leave your side. If things went his way, you'd accompany him to the Agency's office in the morning and would leave in the evening together with him, though he admits that he sees why that might be a tad boring. He simply aches to keep an eye on you, worried about what might happen to you when he's not around, though several Agency members assure him that they, too, will keep an eye on you.
“I'm afraid I can't accompany you today, dear. I'm sorry. An urgent meeting came up, but I'm sure Kunikida or Yosano would join you. Alright? We'll go there together next time. Just— be safe, yes? I trust you're in good hands. Still, don't hesitate to call me if anything happens.”
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You best believe that FYODOR has made sure to inform himself as much as humanly possible about pregnancies the moment you announced that the multiple tests you did are positive. While he's the slightest bit strict when it comes to topics such as what you should and shouldn't consume, as well as anything else related to the yours and baby's health, he naturally makes sure to completely indulge most of your cravings, too — when you're the one to bring new life into this world, who is he to forbid you from having another pastry or a second bowl of ice cream?
He's so very gentle in everything he does, carefully caressing your stomach before cupping your cheek and pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his smile warm, like he can't believe his hands, tainted ones, are allowed to hold something this pure, this holy. It's safe to say that you've always had multiple security guards hovering around you to ensure your safety, though, now, Ivan makes sure to tend to your every need, too, often bringing you the meal you're aching for or even trying out silly yoga techniques for relaxation with you.
“Ah, now—, careful, dear. Allow me to get that for you instead — you should call for Ivan when I am not around. You mustn't overexert yourself. I would hate for you to hurt yourself. Simply sit back and relax, will you? .. Please, for the sake of us, of our family. It won't matter in the long run whether you or someone else got a snack for you, but it will matter if you climb atop a shelf, fall and hurt yourself gravely. Yes?”
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POE honestly does not quite believe his ears when you first mention you're pregnant. When you end up showing him the positive test, however, his smile is blinding, the most sincere one he's had in what feels like ages. He, unfortunately, is the type to worry; while he's still more than delighted, he's almost tempted to create a pocket dimension in a book for you where you'd be safe and cared for, though he has to stop himself from doing just that. It'd be a little overbearing.
Given how he's more than wealthy, you don't have to worry about anything at all. Whatever you crave, it's yours immediately — as fast as premium online shipping works, that is —, whether it's new clothing to accommodate your changing body, furniture for the child's room, certain snacks only available in a foreign country; anything, really. He also makes sure to constantly check in on how you're feeling, asking multiple times every few hours and, when he's not home for whatever reason, he leaves you a surprisingly large amount of text messages, telling you to call him immediately if anything feels.. odd.
“Are you experiencing anything like cramps? Nausea, perhaps? No? That's a relief. Ah, I just—, that's merely what it said on the Internet, symptoms that could happen. I'm relieved if you truly are alright for now.”
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Usually, NIKOLAI is a force to be dealt with. He's unpredictable, mood changing quickly, his smirk wide and his eyes sharp, though, once you tell him you're pregnant, he's surprisingly gentle in the way his hands move to rest on your stomach, his revealed eye sparkling with joy as he coos at the barely visible bump as if the baby is able to hear him. He keeps carefully running for once bare hands over the stretched skin, telling the child stories and that you're both excited to meet it; anything that comes to mind, really.
If you get odd food cravings during the pregnancy, he's not afraid to supply you with whatever you want, as well as to try them out with you. Perhaps ice cream with hot sauce and pickles will be a new family dessert; he's anything but scared of new possibilities.
“Ah, what are you having, doll? Allow me to try, please? Hm? I'm not stealing from you; now, now, don't be mean—, alright, alright. I admit defeat. At least let me say hi to our sweetheart then, yes?”
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The moment SIGMA learns that you're expecting a child, his child, he's ecstatic. He'll make sure you have everything you might want or need, ranging from all kinds of different snacks you could possibly crave to a personal masseuse if you're feeling sore. The more your bump starts to show, the more often he can't help but rest his hands on your stomach, gently caressing, or even pressing soft kisses to it. There's nothing that gets to him more than the idea of having a family with you.
Despite his initial joy, he's another one who's prone to worrying and overthinking, his warm smile making way for a deep frown when he knows you're not looking. He borders on overprotective with how much he keeps an eye on you, even more so than usual, given how, now, he has two loved ones to protect, not just one anymore and, oh, he's admittedly stressed, constantly thinking that something might happen to you, to the baby.
“How are you feeling, love? Is everything alright? Promise you'll tell me if you feel anything odd, yes? I'm not worried. I just don't wish for anything to happen to you or the baby. Alright, I'm admittedly the slightest bit worried, but I really can't help it. I love you, after all.”
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JŌNO honestly never expected to ever have a child of his own in the first place, meaning that the knowledge of you being pregnant is something he needs to process for a bit first. Nonetheless, he's happy, of course. How could he not be? It's an odd thought, one he'll have to get used to first, but, in general, it's a pleasant one. Naturally, his job comes with some dangers for you and your future
He's protective by nature, having found pleasure in saving people rather than torturing them, and you're no exception. Seeing you smile, knowing that you feel safe with him is the best feeling he could ever ask for, though his desire to protect you from all harm quickly gets overwhelming. It's less harm from outsiders he fears — he deals quickly and efficiently with criminals, thank you very much —, but more you harming yourself, perhaps by tripping and falling when he's not around, resulting in him preferring to take every little task out of your hands. Oh, well.
“My, my, stay seated, dear. I'll handle this. Hm? I'm not treating you like you're fragile. I know you're not sick, merely pregnant; you mention it often enough. Still, is it so wrong for me to care for you? Yes, that's what I thought.”
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FUKUCHI is a busy man. Really, being a war hero and the Hunting Dogs Captain — as well as Kamui, but perhaps that's not something for you to know about —, you'd expect him to be busy with work even while you're pregnant with his child, though that's far from reality. Instead of prioritising work and his reputation, he makes sure to come to every doctor's appointment with you, constantly by your side, and spends as much time as possible at home with you, one hand of his ever so often resting on your stomach, even when the bump is barely visible.
He claims he's able to feel the child's heartbeat already — whether that's true does not seem to matter, not when he's busy peppering your skin in kisses, smile never leaving his face as he wonders aloud whether it'll be a girl or a boy, what their name should be and if their eventual first word will be “mum” or “dad”; his bet is on “mum”, by the way, even though he pretends to be heartbroken by the idea, all too dramatic.
“You look surprised to see that it's me picking you up rather than some chauffeur, sweet thing. Why's that, I wonder? I already told you I'll accompany you to every doctor's appointment you have. The rest of the Hunting Dogs can cover me for one evening. I wouldn't miss this for the world.”
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a part of this was a commission! thank you so much again! 💜 Also the idea of Ivan doing yoga with you had me giggling..
tags: @irethepotato @beandaifuku , @the-foreigner , @ranpobb, @arixsux, @dei-lilxc , @atsyushi @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @marina-and-the-memes @texchou @shiggysredhead @savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @nikolaiswife @okura-s @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @berywritesstuff @alice0blog @xelia25 @yuuotosaka3 @double-black-dazai @fyodorstolenushanka @ttaiyaki @itsnovariella @black-rose-29 @fyodorscumsock @ayshaashaya @qxxstuff @serenareiss @atsvsh1 @dilucshandholder @reiikonee @1-800-mocha
@xvocadooo @hexiisexii @cupxfcxffee @jodidann @Happymoon16 @yumidepain @nchuuyahq @janeinerz @Aaronthegreatestsimp @fanfiction-waifu @KimxKiba @Morigumy @villainouspotential @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @nikolaisgoofyahhhat @yeonwoomyheartbelongstoyou @hellgirlwhore @c4xcocoa @lyrstybsd @angelsrunes @wuaoqu @disa-ster @aspookyscaryghost @nikolaisboner @urgodmoon @polish-anon @arisu-chan4646 @eroscastle @somnobun @birbysaur @Senpaible @hyunlixie143 @dababyurmom @4nthonyyliving @Chxrry-doll
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fictionalmenxyn · 1 year
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How would the Task force 141 + los vaqueros react to their s/o wearing their clothes?
Thank and you and i hope you have a wonderful day! 😊
Hi of course I will write this for you and others! :) thanks, hope you have a good day/night too!
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Ghost
Definitely take either his t-shirt or hoodie/fleece (especially the grey one)
It’s a bonus if it still smells like him
They way he’ll find out is by walking into the break room and spot you in a rather large hoodie. So he’d walk over and see ‘Lt. Riley’ and he’ll raise an eyebrow of when you stole it.
Definitely likes you wearing it but messes with you. Like he’ll tell you how it’s his and how your lucky your his as well, as your wearing his clothes.
Likes that it shows your his as he can be protective of you
Make his heart beat a little fast as he is drawn towards you even more.
Sometimes he’ll leave his stuff in your room with a sticky note ‘wear me :)’
Definitely hugs you from behind and questions you of how you got it.
If your into oversized hoodies and they are able to fit him and he like the look of it. He will steal it for a bit as he always says it’s a fair game as you steal his.
Soap
His t-shirt or socks
Feel like if it’s socks it’s either cause your cold or cause you need thicker socks for certain shoes
You love that when he offers his t-shirt he makes sure it smells of him as he knows it comforts you
Loves seeing you in his clothes, goes giddy on the inside if he catches you wearing his t-shirt
He likes when you make him a cup of tea/coffee and sees you in his shirt. It makes his morning
If you wear his shirt and Ghost walks past he’d definitely call you Johnny. As a joke.
Gaz
A sweatshirt or joggers/sweatpants probably. I know this may be odd but maybe boxers
Like if you just got out the shower or sleeping in them as if they are shorts but you don’t wear them as actual underwear
He smirks and has lust in his eyes when he sees you in his sweat shirt and his heart beats faster if your wearing both items
You love that he actually loves his sense of style and likes to look fashion able
You usually wear his joggers/sweatpants if your going to bed probably with a tank top or sports bra
Gives you a kiss and a comment like ‘wonder who’s clothes they are? Cause I know they aren’t yours’
Like Ghost if you wear baggy clothes and they look nice he’ll definitely wear it. And it has to smell like you it’s also a comfort thing to him
Price
Hat, joggers/sweat pants or button down shirt
If he has multiple hats and he has ones he doesn’t wear as much as others you’ll pick them so he can’t really complain
If it’s sunny out, you’d wear one and see if he notices and if he does he’ll lift your chin up and ask ‘how did you get that?’
When wearing his joggers you’d wear them on cold or winter days as they are fluffy on the inside and act like a blanket
With his button down shirt it will be after a busy night out and your heads ringing and that’s the first thing you see
Or it’s your going to work and can’t find anything that fits with the out fit or yours are all in the wash
He find it cute when you scrunch your face when he asks about you wearing his clothes and you blush a tad
Alejandro
Shirt, tank tops, if he has one a cowboy hat (I believe he has at least one)
If he sees you with any form of his clothing on he fells like he has fallen in love with you again
If it is his short he’ll smirk and say ‘since when did you steal that, Querida (my dear)’ and you’ll just blush
If it’s his tank top it’s usually a hot day out. He’ll probably be wearing one too and if you both are wearing one. You’ll both stare at each other with lust and who knows what happens after ;)
If it’s a cowboy hat, my my. He’ll say ‘my my Señorita you look asombrosa (breathtaking) in that hat, I think I need to get one for you’
Sometimes you’d wear it in the summer to get more cover from the sun
He’s once again fallen in love with you. He thinks you couldn’t get any hotter we’ll all you have to do is wear something of his
Rudy
Fleece or hoodie
He’ll blush a little seeing you in his clothes especially for the first time
He’ll complement you and say you could/should wear it more often
He’ll hug you and give you a kiss and mention how good you look in his clothes and he asks if you want to wear any other hoodies he has
If he’s away and your at home you’d where his hoodie till the smell fades they wash it and put his cologne back on there
He loves how if you wear it around the boys it makes him feel a lot more calmer knowing that the boys know your wearing his clothes
Loves that you find comfort in his things like they comfort him
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luveline · 4 months
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You are such an awesome writer 🥹 I love seeing you show up on my timeline!
I'm not sure if you are taking requests rn and totally ignore this and I'm so sorry if you are not and sorry to bug you.
I am so obsessed with bombshell bau reader with our boy Spence. I was thinking like maybe established relationship this time where the team goes out to the bar again only this time her and Spence are actually together so she's just really cute and even more cling. Maybe her and Emily or one of/all of the other BAU girls are being wild goofy drunk girl and reader is extra flirty with Spence but not at all smooth and Spencer is just like “you're a menace” ? But like in a sweet adoring way 😂?
Again no pressure at all and I hope you are feeling better from the rude requests and enjoying your time off school, lots of love xxx
thank you love, and thanks for your request!! ♡ drunk!reader
The last time you'd been to this bar in particular, you and Spencer were strictly friends. He was still styling his hair straight and wearing sweater vests, and the idea of being your boyfriend was a fantasy. A brilliant, never-going-to-happen work of fiction. 
“My boyfriend is the prettiest man alive ever in the history of planet Earth!” you declare, climbing up on one knee in the booth beside him, your cherry spritzer tipping over the glass’ rim. It races down your naked arm to your elbow and drips from there to his thigh. “Have you seen him?” 
“Sure, I've seen him,” Morgan says, rolling his eyes. 
You wrap your arms around Spencer's head from the side and kiss his forehead. You shift as you do, forcing your lips up into his hair, leaving behind an accidental raspberry smear of lipgloss. “Then what's the problem?” you ask. 
“I don't know,” Morgan says. 
“I know what it is,” Emily says. 
“Me too. Rhymes with indoctrination,” JJ laughs. 
You put your glass down hard on the table, arm still held proudly behind Spencer's neck. A lot has changed since the last time you were here, but the way he looks up at you hasn't budged. He has a sick, all encompassing crush on you, and seeing you now turns it into a dizziness he can't shake, almost like he's had a few too many drinks with you. Your eyes are glassy, grounded but wet, and your eyelashes pinch together in the corners as you bring your gaze down to his. “It's love,” you say. 
Everybody laughs. Spencer just keeps watching you watch him, his palm to the small of your back to prevent a fall. 
“It's love!” Penelope echoes, shepherded by Hotch, too many drinks between them both. “My favourite lovebirds! I brought your drink, beautiful.”
“Thank you, gorgeous.” You take it eagerly. Spritzer sloshes over the bumps of your fingers. 
“Sit down,” Spencer suggests. 
You give him brief googly eyes and sit down. The booth is a three sided square, with you and Spencer on one arm, Rossi, JJ and Emily against the back, and now Morgan, Penelope and Hotch opposite. It's a full troupe tonight, a rarity, and you and Penelope decided early on that the best way to celebrate would be to drink whatever you liked and in egregious quantities. 
Hotch is perhaps doing the same. Spencer can't tell. But all in all, everyone's having a good night, especially you. 
“Did you hear that? He's so nice to me,” you say to no one in particular, your fitted blouse sparkling in the light as you lean back, your hand finding his thigh. “Spencer, what's on your pants?” 
“Oh, I wonder?” 
“You're not blaming me, are you?” Your voice is as stickying as you can make it, and drunk as a skunk you may be, but you maintain your talent for flirting. 
“Did I say that?” 
“Because that wouldn't be very, gentlemanly of you…” You lean in too close. Your talent remains. Your subtlety suffers a different fate. 
He leans in like he might kiss you and says, “You're a menace.” 
“What's that supposed to mean?” 
In front of all your friends and coworkers. “It means I'm cutting you off,” he says, sliding his hand between you and your glass. 
More laughter. You throw hurt looks at them all and Spencer picks up your cherry spritzer. You're baffled, but a smile dripping in sickly sweet love spreads over your lips as he drinks it. “Fine, I'll share,” you say. 
“Thank you,” he says, putting it out of your reach as he leans in to kiss you, cherry lingering on his lips. 
You kiss him back gently, and then a little harder. He eases you away. Arms snuck once again around him, you squeeze until his ribs cry out in protest and make yourself comfortable on his shoulder.
“You're not mad at me, are you?” he asks, head angled down to offer a tender smile. 
“I love you so much I've decided not to care.” You lift your head. “You're too nice to be mad at you,” you whisper. “And I love you.” 
“Yeah, you've mentioned that.” He rubs your arm. He's so in love with you, he doesn't think to blush at his part in your PDA. 
811 notes · View notes
captainfern · 8 months
Note
MARIGOLD PREQUELLLLLLLLLLLLLL 🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌
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Marigold - Prequel
dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader
[“Marigold” by Nirvana]
[18+]
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• summary - where it all began with you and price, your dad's best friend. oh and the first time you fuck lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 6.9k [hehe] • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], f!masturbation, m!masturbation, unprotected piv, soft!price/gentle!price, oral [f!&m!receiving], PRAISE, breeding kink?, strong language
thank you all for the support on this little series that's also not really a series lol. lots of luv <3
unedited but enjoy anyway lol
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In all seriousness, you had rats to thank for starting you and Price's relationship.
No, seriously.
Rats.
"Honey, you remember my mate John, don't you?" Your dad asked one evening as the two of you settled in for dinner.
You looked up from your plate of food, fork suspended half-way to your mouth.
"Price?" You queried, before sticking the forkful of food in your mouth and chewing thoughtfully as your dad replied with a nod.
"Yeah, Price," your dad said. "He's going to be staying with us for a few days while his house gets bombed."
You blinked, shocked. "...bombed?"
Your dad laughed. "Not actually bombed. Pest-bombed. Over his last deployment, rats got into his cupboards and ripped the place up, so it'll be a week of exterminators and contractors until his house's back to normal."
You put another forkful of your dinner into your mouth.
Price had been your dad's best mate since, like, forever. They had served together in the military, and remained in contact even when your dad retired when you were young. You remember seeing Price a lot when you were younger, but after your dad's retirement, the time they spent together got less and less.
Embarrassingly, you remember the last time you had a good look at him and you realised that, oh my god, he's hot. Not long ago, a year or so maybe, when he popped around for your dad's birthday in between deployments. He was polite to you, and nice, but you couldn't help but stare.
His muscular back, strong shoulders, forearms lined with veins. He was fresh out of a deployment with dishevelled hair and a scruffy beard and you just couldn't help but feel a little warm.
But it was a crush. Something stupid, anyway.
"Why's he staying here?" You asked. "Why not just stay at a hotel or something?"
"I invited him," your dad told you. "It'd be nice for us to catch up, anyway. And it'll be good for him to relax before he has to head back to work."
You accepted that answer. Your dad deserved to spend some time with his old friend, and it wouldn't make sense to challenge that. So, after dinner and once you'd helped your dad with the dishes, you both worked together to set up the guest room.
A couple of hours later, the doorbell rung.
You were lounging on the couch, some trashy reality show echoing around the living room. Your dad got off the couch and headed out into the hall, opening the front door.
You knew who it was going to be, so you weren't surprised hearing your dads excitable chatter as he greeted his old friend and welcomed him into the house. You listened as, after a few minutes, their footsteps drew into the living room, and you made the effort to pause the show you were watching and cast your eyes across the room.
"Say hi to Price, honey." Your dad smiled, gesturing to the man beside him.
You smiled, offering a small wave. "Hi, Price."
Holy fuck.
Holy fuck.
It had been about a year since you had seen Captain John Price in person and oh my god. He was still attractive. So much so that butterflies began fluttering around in your stomach, and you felt your body growing hot beneath his gaze.
He was still as fit as ever. Military-style fit, too. Strong shoulders and arms, lean torso, strong legs too. Big hands enclosed around the handles of two black duffel bags. He wore a beanie, and his facial hair was, like you remembered, a bit on the messier-side. You wondered whether he'd shave it, or clean it up tomorrow.
Then, he greeted you with your name. A deep voice, all rich and warm like the cigar smoke and cologne he smelt of. Your name on his tongue made your stomach pinch with some kind of giddy nerves. It sounded nice. He smelt nice, too. He looked nice.
Holy fuck.
Did... did you fancy your dad's best friend?
You physically shook your head to yourself as you looked away and your dad led Price upstairs. A stupid crush, that's all. You stared blankly at the TV, not even resuming your show. You just stared at the paused frame of blurred colours, your mind running away from you.
And you didn't know if you'd be able to catch it.
•º•
The next morning, you and your dad were both up early for work. You ate breakfast at the table, scrolling tiredly through your phone like you usually did until the sleepiness left your system.
Your dad was humming to himself in the kitchen, fixing himself a cup of tea and his second lot of toast (the first lot he had burnt).
The stairs creaked in the early morning silence, and both you and your dad looked up as Price appeared in the doorway of the kitchen in– oh my fucking god– no shirt.
He'd trimmed his facial hair, too. It was neat against his cheeks and above his full lips, and you couldn't help but imagine what it'd feel like–
No. Stop it.
He greeted your dad, then looked momentarily surprised to see you sitting at the table. He bid you good morning, then loitered uneasily in the doorway, eyes flicking to your dad.
"Sorry, d'you want me to put on a shirt?" Price chuckled, and your dad laughed back, shaking his head.
"Nah, mate, you're all right. Half the time I'm walking around here with no shirt on anyway, so she won't mind, will you, honey?" Your dad turned to you, and so did Price.
You tried your best to ignore Price, looking directly at your dad.
"I don't care," you said as casually as you could muster. "At least he's not wearing a fluffy pink dressing gown."
Your dad rolled his eyes, scoffing. "Don't make fun of my pyjamas, kid. I got it from Marks and Spencer for about thirty quid."
You shook your head in amusement, sparing a glance at Price as you turned back to your phone. Maybe you shouldn't have, because those stupid butterflies appeared in your stomach again.
You caught a glimpse of his abs, faint but chiselled lines along his abdomen. The brush of hair across his chest, and the happy-trail leading down into the waistband of his flannel pyjamas. His arms were so big too.
Okay, seriously. Stop it.
•º•
You got home from work late that evening, the house dark and curtains open. You did your usual routine, going around the house and pulling the curtains so you could turn on the lights. You paused outside the guest bedroom though, deciding against going in, and instead moving on.
You showered quickly, then moved downstairs. Sometimes, you'd cook dinner for your dad, and that's what you decided to do tonight.
Half way through cooking, ingredients strewn across the kitchen, the front door opened. You were expecting your dad, but when Price walked into the kitchen, you hoped you didn't look too shocked to see him.
"Oh, hi, Price," you greeted. "How's your day been?"
He smiled softly at you. Politely.
"Not bad," he said, sliding into one of the barstools across the kitchen island. "You?"
You shrugged. "Work's shit, but it is what it is."
His smile continued, and he watched you cook for a moment. You were acutely aware of the way his eyes watched you, watched the movement of your hands, the movement of your body around the kitchen, the concentrated expression on your face.
"You like to cook?" He asked you eventually, melodic voice punctuating the borderline unnerving silence.
"I like cooking for my dad," you said. "I mean, I'm no chef, but my dad seems to like it."
Price cocked his head, taking in the range of ingredients that were spread out across the kitchen counter, as well as ingredients splashing along the marble surface.
"You like making a mess, too, by the looks of it." Price said jokingly, gesturing to the various kinds of sauces and baking agents smeared over the countertop.
The sentence was innocent enough, but it made your heart hammer faster for some reason. Maybe it was the smooth baritone of his voice, or the fact Price said it. Either way, the pace of your heart quickened within your ribcage as you bent down to place your creation in the oven.
You stood up once the food was in the oven, brushing your sticky hands across your apron. Price was still looking at you, and he laughed at the state of your apron.
"So messy." He tutted.
Butterflies. Fucking hell.
"It's a new recipe," you said quickly before your body could betray you and render you speechless. "I'm usually not this messy, I promise."
He just hummed curiously at that.
When your dad got home not long later, dinner was ready. You, him and Price sat down for dinner, and your dad was like a growing teenage boy shovelling the food gratefully into his mouth. You wondered how he wasn't burning the roof of his mouth.
"This is great, honey," your dad said through a mouthful of food and you tried not to laugh. "Thanks."
"That's okay," you smiled ruefully. "I'm glad it's at least edible."
Price chimed in. "It's great, sweetheart. You did well."
Sweetheart.
You did well.
"Oh, thanks..." You muttered. Butterflies again.
•º•
The next couple of days were much the same.
The three of you would wake up at relatively the same time, having breakfast together and talking about the day ahead. Then you'd all head off, you and your dad to work, and Price to... well, who knows. Then, you'd get home at the end of the day and, surprisingly energised, you'd cook for your dad and Price.
Price would get home before your dad, by at least an hour. He'd watch you cook, chatting to you about anything and everything you wanted to talk about. He was attentive when you spoke, or when you yammered on about something that made you excited. He'd listen with a smile, asking you questions about your interest that had you spiralling happily again. You somehow almost burnt your pasta the last time you were telling him about your favourite movie.
Then, your dad would get home and you'd all eat dinner. The conversation was pleasant. But most of the time, you sat silently and listened to Price and your dad talk about the, quote, "good old days". Listening to military stories was also on the agenda. Not that you minded. It was nice seeing your dad happy.
After dinner, you'd do the dishes. Price offered to take over, and you refused. He struck a deal though, your dad helping too, and the three of you made it a military-style regime to wash the dishes and get them away in record speed. You laughed at the goofiness of it all, and how Price ordered your dad around. Your dad would salute and march around the kitchen with a stack of plates in his hands, making you and Price laugh.
But it was nighttime where things differed.
You'd say goodnight to Price and your dad. Sometimes, they were still awake in the living room, or maybe in the kitchen. Other times, they'd retired long before you. Either way, you'd find yourself beneath the covers of your bed, the silence of the night drowning you.
Of the almost four nights Price had stayed, you'd gone to sleep with him on your mind each time. Three of those four nights were all fluffy and cozy and warmth-inducing. Images of him in your head, being so nice to you, being so polite. Such a gentleman. It didn't take long to fall asleep with a content smile on your face.
Tonight was the outlier though.
You'd manage to fend off the nighttime bombardment of butterflies on previous nights. But tonight, they returned with a vengeance. Your stomach was swarming with them at each thought of your dad's best friend. Flipping and swooping with nerves, your body growing hot. But with this warmth came an ache that made you scold yourself.
Stop it.
But you couldn't.
Price's handsome face– glimmering eyes, full lips, neatly trimmed facial hair. His body– the abs, the hair, the muscles. Damn.
You whined softly to yourself, the ache in between your legs intensifying, something pulling tight in the base of your tummy.
You just couldn't help it.
Another quiet whine on your lips, you impatiently shoved your hand beneath your pyjamas. Your middle finger made contact with your clit, puffy and swollen with your arousal, and you sucked in a breath when you began to circle it gently.
The relief was almost immediate, the tight feeling in the base of your stomach drawing tighter. Your body hummed with warmth as you sped up the movement of your circles, pleasure creeping through your veins. You probably didn't even need to fuck yourself. Judging by the way your body was reacting, you were close enough with just the attention to your clit. So, so sensitive.
You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to keep yourself quiet, small moans and airy whimpers caught in the base of your throat. Your skin was becoming dewy with sweat, your legs beginning to shake as your finger pressed and drew shapes across your little bundle of nerves.
In your mind, flashing images of Price. Everything about him, physically and not. His voice, his words–
"So messy."
"You did well."
"Sweetheart."
A desperate whimper fell past your lips, your back arching, clit pressing tighter against your finger, hand beginning to ache. Your thighs trembled, heart-rate spiking as the coil in your stomach balled the tightest it had been all night, before it snapped.
"Price." You whispered into the darkness of your room as you came. It hit you hard, too. Sparks floating behind your eyelids, your entire body trembling against the mattress as your cunt spasmed around nothing, your clit pulsing in time with the beating of your heart.
You came down from your high with a wave of embarrassment crashing over you, and you broke the surface of it with a gasp and a frustrated sigh. You kicked off your blankets, burning up, sticky with sweat.
"Fuck..." You whimpered, eyes suddenly pricking with tears.
Maybe this wasn't just some stupid crush anymore.
•º•
Price heard you that night.
It was an accident.
He couldn't sleep after hours of pacing his room. So he ducked downstairs, grabbed himself a glass of water, and drank it whilst staring into the darkness. After, he rinsed the glass clean and dried it, putting it back in the cupboard, and then making his way back upstairs.
In his efforts of trying to be quiet, he heard you. Creeping past your room, he paused when he heard the soft creaking of your bed and a soft sigh escape beneath the small gap beneath the door. He cursed himself, initially believing he'd woken you up. But the more he listened, the more his cheeks began to heat up, and his cock began to stir in his pyjama pants.
It was wrong.
But you sounded so fucking pretty. Touching yourself, sighing and whimpering, trying so hard to be quiet. He wondered how you were touching yourself, how fucking wet you were.
His chest tightened in shame. What the hell was he doing? His best friend's daughter of all people?!
But he couldn't move. Not when the mattress shifted, the bed frame creaked, and a few more airy whines flew out of your mouth before you were whimpering his name.
His fucking name.
"Price."
He could've come right then and there.
He held out, gritting his teeth and shuffling silently back down the hall and into his room. He closed the door as quietly as he could and found himself sitting on the edge of the bed, taking his cock out of his pyjamas.
Already painfully hard and sensitive, he fucked it in his fist dry at first. The pre-cum dribbling from his slit made the movements glide after a moment, and he was quick to start moaning under his breath. He'd always been good at remaining silent with these types of things. But with you in his head, your whimpers in his head, he was trying desperately and almost failing to keep quiet.
Price stroked his cock, thinking about you. His best friend's daughter. He felt guilty. Dirty.
But it was no match for the feelings of lust and pleasure. He grit his teeth, trapping a moan between his molars as he circled the tip of his cock, more pre pearling at the slit. He imagined it being your pretty cunt, so wet and tight.
He grunted, tightening his grip, and then had to restrict another warbled groan. His balls tightened, stomach quivering as he came in a sudden hot spurt, coating his fingers and thighs. He jerked himself through it until his tip was flushed an angry red and he was on the verge of overstimulation.
"Christ..." He muttered, looking down at the mess he'd made.
He wanted to make a mess of you.
•º•
You didn't make dinner the next night after work. You were too tired, and you knew your dad would be sympathetic. So instead, you opted to have a nice, long shower. And by long, you meant long. You scrubbed yourself clean of the day's extremities, leaving you to smell really, really good.
It was much later by the time you got out, dressing into your pyjamas. You went downstairs. You'd probably just eat some leftovers, or dig something out of the freezer. Entering the kitchen, you were taken aback to see Price sitting at the kitchen island, arms folded along the marble surface. He looked up as you entered.
"Oh, hey, Price." You greeted, heading for the fridge.
His mouth curled into a small grin. "You can call me John, you know."
"Eh," you opened the fridge, your back to him. "I like Price. John make's you sound old."
"Is that so?" He cocked his head at you, watching you dig through the fridge. "Do I look old?"
You threw him a look over your shoulder. "Not really."
"Not really?" He chuckled.
"Mhm. The beard makes you look older."
He stroked his face while you pulled out some leftover pasta, closing the fridge and placing the container on the counter near the microwave.
"I like it, though." You told him with a smile, and your brain didn't quite register what you said until you were beginning to reheat your pasta.
"You like it?"
Fuck.
Damn it.
"It... suits you, yeah." You said shyly, not making eye contact. Your body was growing warm. It might as well have been you in that microwave by the way your skin was heating.
Silence filled the kitchen until the microwave began to beep. You took out your steaming pasta and dropped it noisily on the countertop.
You could feel his eyes on you, and it made your heart race. But it was racing in a good way. The way he looked at you, the way he made you feel, was something you'd never experienced before.
Slowly, you turned to look at him. He was looking at you, eyes soft and deep and warm and everything you wanted. It was like he was waiting for you to speak– waiting for you to open your mouth and tell him everything you wanted too. It's like he knew.
The butterflies were back.
You chewed nervously on your bottom lip, and Price's eyes followed the movement.
"Not making dinner tonight?" He asked you, voice smooth, eyes still on your mouth.
You shook your head. "No... sorry."
"Don't apologise, sweetheart."
You wanted to scream into a pillow or something. Sweetheart? Did he want you to have a fucking heart attack?
"Are you hungry?" You asked.
His eyes flicked up to yours. "Yeah."
You felt guilty. "Did you want me to cook–?"
"No," he said simply. "No, don't worry about that. I don't need food."
You cocked your head and he watched you do so. Confused, you frowned, sucking your bottom lip back into your mouth. Once again, his eyes darted downwards to catch the movement, his eyes flashing.
"Then what do you want?" You asked him, and deep down you already knew. Somehow, you knew what he wanted.
And you wanted it too.
Price got to his feet, casually rounding the kitchen island until he was standing beside you in the kitchen. You turned, your lower back pressed up against the adjacent countertop as he approached you slowly. You craned your neck to look up at him, your heart hurting from how hard it was beating inside you.
"I want you to be honest with me, okay?" He said softly, his voice comforting. "D'you want me to touch you how you touched yourself last night?"
Your entire body was on fire. Every nerve, every blood vessel was blistering hot. Your shame was the gasoline. But your lust was the fucking spark.
You let out a breath, a whine mingling with it. You averted your eyes, looking away. Immediately, a large hand gently took hold of your chin and guided your head back upwards, lightly guiding eye contact.
"It's okay, sweetheart, I promise," he told you in a whisper, the caring look in his eyes soothing the flames within you. "I want you to tell me. I want you to be honest."
For a moment, your lower lip trembled. A mix of embarrassment and arousal was confusing your brain.
You swallowed thickly. "Yes..."
"Yeah? You want me to touch you like you touched yourself? Make you feel good?" He probed, careful not to raise his voice above a whisper. "You want me to take care of you, sweetheart? It's okay, you can tell me."
You nodded. "Yes please."
The hand Price had on your chin moved to cradle the back of your head as he leaned down, his face hovering just above yours. His eyes scanned your features, his other hand moving to hold your waist.
"Can I kiss you?" Price asked, the words brushing over your own lips.
"Yeah..." You whispered, breathless from your impatience.
He smiled, then kissed you. It was so gentle and warm and everything you'd thought about the night before. It wasn't rushed or rough in anyway. He was taking his time– smoothing his lips against yours, cradling your head, slipping his tongue along the seam of your lips. You opened for him, your tongue meeting his, the kiss deepening.
He pressed you further into the countertop and you arched, chest meshing with his. His tongue was solid against yours, and you whined into his mouth, your hands moving to clasp the back of his head, fingers delving into his soft hair.
The hand on your hip pulled your pelvis flush with his. You groaned when you felt him hardening against your lower stomach, and Price pulled out of the kiss with a light squeeze to the back of your head.
"Feel that, sweetheart?" He said breathlessly, leaning himself heavier against you. "Feel how much I want you."
He took your hand in his, letting go of your head. He guided your hand between your bodies, and you took initiative in pressing your palm flat to the front of his jeans. He groaned, head flopping forward to rest on your shoulder. You palmed the solid imprint of his cock, your core throbbing at the muffled grunts eliciting from his throat.
"Price...?" You whispered, and he groaned again.
"Fuck... yeah?"
"I want you."
He groaned for the third time, low and breathy, before he pulled away from you. He grasped your hand, before dragging you out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. You giggled, giddy with excitement, as he led you upstairs.
"Your room or mine?" Price asked, bending down to kiss you again.
You pulled away, and he proceeded to kiss a wet trail down the bare expanse of your neck. "Mine..." You said, backing towards your room and urging him inside.
He closed the door behind you as you flopped onto your bed. You grinned when he followed you, crawling over top of your body and slotting himself against you, kissing you again. He licked into your mouth as you tugged and pulled at his hair.
A minute later, Price was crawling back down your body until he rested between your legs. He took hold of your pyjama pants and pulled them down, discarding them, while you threw your t-shirt off. You unclipped your bra and tossed it across the room when Price hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear.
He looked up at you. "Is this okay?"
"This is perfect, Price."
He took a deep breath as he pulled your underwear down your legs, so slowly you thought about kicking him. But you didn't. His eyes were transfixed on your core, his mouth agape.
"Christ," he muttered, flinging your underwear away. He ran two fingers slowly up your slit, collecting your arousal, before drawing them into his mouth. He moaned around his fingers. "S'fucking perfect."
You whined as he tucked himself between your legs, his breath fanning over your glistening core.
"Watch me, sweetheart." He told you as he languidly licked a stripe up your slit, before latching his lips around your clit.
Your eyes rolled, but his words forced you to maintain eye contact. You watched his lower face disappear between your legs, his eyes hooded and locked onto yours as he ate you out.
He circled your clit with his tongue, his top teeth brushing lightly against the nerves. Your body jolted, a moan falling out of your mouth, before his tongue was laving over you once more. He then dragged his tongue in a zig-zag motion downwards until he circled your cunt. You whimpered loudly when he pushed his tongue inside you.
He grunted with each movement of his tongue, eyelids threatening to close each time more of your arousal trickled into the back of his throat. Your thighs were warm around his head, squishy against his ears. He couldn't help but grab a fistful of the flesh in his hands, kneading contently as he fucked his tongue into you.
You were on cloud-nine. His tongue was warm and solid inside you, your stomach fluttering with a build-up of pleasure. You reached a hand down, the other balled in your sheets, and grasped his hair, still maintaining eye contact. You moaned, the sound making Price groan into your cunt.
"P-Price, sir, m'gonna come." You told him desperately as your impending climax began warming your body, thighs growing tighter around his head.
The word sir made Price moan into your cunt and redouble his efforts, fucking his tongue into you at a renewed pace that made you sob out his name in pleasure. Your thighs shook against his head, your cunt fluttering around his tongue, arousal dribbling down the sides of his chin.
He was throbbing in his trousers, your noises and taste building his own arousal. His cock twitched painfully in the confines of his boxers and when you came, he almost came with you. Almost.
You came with a whiny "Price", pushing his head further into you. He licked you through it, dragging his tongue out of you once your hole stopped spasming, suctioning your swollen clit back into his mouth. You whimpered curses, pulling at his hair. He conceded, and detached his mouth.
"Feel good, sweetheart?" Price asked, kissing up your body as he crawled back over top of you.
You hummed your agreement, still fizzling down from your high.
After kissing along your breasts, Price slotted his mouth back to yours. You moaned when you tasted yourself on him, his face sticky against yours.
When he pulled back, his pupils were blown. "Tell me what you want, pretty girl."
"Want you." You whimpered, and he kissed you again.
He then stripped himself, discarding his clothes on your floor. When he removed his boxers, you tossed your head back and groaned. His hard cock bobbed up against his abdomen. A slight curve, a prominent vein along the underside, leading to a ruddy tip already leaking pre. You took hold of it, feeling the soft, velvety ridges against your palm.
Price hissed. "Sweetheart–"
"Can I use my mouth?" You asked, slowly starting to stroke his cock.
He groaned, head dropping back as if the words you said struck him across the face. He seemed to contemplate it for a moment, really thinking hard, as his eyes dropped down to yours.
"You don't have t–"
"I want too," you smiled, before you were pushing him off of you and slipping off the bed.
He watched you patiently, situating himself on the edge of the bed and planting his feet on the floor. He parted his legs, allowing you to settle between them. You took hold of his cock again, and his hips twitched, a sound like a whimper being whispered from the depths of his throat.
Price looked down at you, stroking your hair as you worked your hand up and down his length. His eyelids drooped when your fingers neared his tip, and when you worked them around the underside, he whispered your name in a pleasured sigh.
He continued stroking your head and face. "Are you sure you want to do this, sweetheart? You don't h–"
You shut him up by leaning forward and licking a stripe up his cock. He choked on his sentence, hand resting gently on the crown of your head as you licked him from base to tip. You kept one hand around the base of him, pumping as you worked your tongue up the vein on the underside of his cock.
He hummed a moan, something vibrating deep in his chest, primal almost, as he watched you. His eyelids had dropped, his pupils stretched wide, hips twitching each time your tongue skimmed the base of his tip. He was fucking leaking, now, and you wasted no time in cleaning him up.
Retaining eye contact, you wrapped your mouth around the tip and he moaned. A pretty, desperate sound that made your wet core flutter around nothing. You sunk deeper and deeper, taking more of him, until your mouth was stretched wide, your lips pressing against the side of your hand where you squeezed him. Price moaned again, head of his cock nudging the back of your throat. You gagged, pulling up slightly, and he let out a deep grunt.
"Easy, sweetheart, s'alright..." Price dragged out, hand warm on the top of your head.
Saliva dripped from the corners of your mouth in strings, smearing down his length as you brought your head up. You circled your tongue around his head again, swiping against the slit and making his hips buck. You withheld a smile and took him deeper again. You repeated this action a few times, until Price had left that tentative, almost nervous view behind him.
Now, he had a firm but guiding hold on the back of your head, groaning and panting as you sucked his cock. He urged you gently to take more of him, and you eventually removed your hand so more of him slid down your throat. You gagged, and he groaned and pulled back slightly, before repeating the action again anyway.
A hand to your head, he pulled your head all the way back until your lips wrapped around his tip. You looked him in the eyes, tears along your waterline, before he was pushing you back down.
"Yeah, that's my girl," He groaned as you took him all the way to the base. "Fuck, that's my girl. My good girl, baby, fuck."
You whimpered around his cock, the praise making your stomach flip and your cunt ache. Your arousal was physically dripping down the curve of your thighs, and you shivered.
Suddenly, his hips began twitching and his mouth dropped open, a breathless moan filtering out. He grabbed hold of the back of your neck and slowly pulled you away from his cock.
"I need you, sweetheart, come on." Price whispered when you whined, your mouth detaching from his cock with a wet pop.
You wiped the saliva away from your mouth with the back of your hand. "But–"
Price urged you to your feet, pushing you back onto the bed and flattening you against the mattress with his frame. You smiled at his desperation, feeling his wet cock against your inner thigh as he spread your legs with a squeeze to the backs of your knees.
He leaned down and kissed you. "I– fuck– I need to be inside you, sweetheart. Let me inside you. Please."
You'd never thought he'd be the type to beg. Holy shit.
You giggled nervously, kissing him again. Price groaned into your mouth, one large hand coming to hold the side of your face, caressing it gently. He then grabbed his cock near the base and guided it to your dripping cunt. He ran the tip up and down your folds a few times, making you mewl into his mouth, before tapping the head against your slick hole.
He broke the kiss, panting. "Oh fuck, I don't have a con–"
"Birth control," you said quickly, body writhing beneath his. "Please, just–"
His brows pinched together in light concern. "Okay, okay, but you need to stop me if I you–."
You were begging now. Desperate for him. "I'm okay, Price. Please, sir, just please–"
With a low grunt, Price pushed in slowly, the tip of his cock stretching you open. You moaned loudly, nails dragging down his muscled back as he slid more and more inside you, inch by inch. He groaned, caging your head between his arms, his eyes locked on your face, searching for any sign of hesitance. But he only found pleasure as your mouth dropped open and your eyelids flitted.
You were so tight around him, warm and wet. He closed his eyes for just a second. He was focussing on not coming straight away.
You mewled loudly when the tip of his cock nudged your cervix, his hips flush with yours. Your nails scraped down his back, and he grunted, dipping down to kiss you. The kiss was sloppy and messy, all tongue and no direction. He didn't move his hips, and the feeling of him inside you, warm and heavy, made you break the kiss with a moan.
"Price, oh my god." You breathed against his lips, hole clenching around his girth.
He groaned. "I know, sweetheart, I know."
You whimpered when his hips shifted, pelvis grinding against you. He paused, moving his head back to look at you.
"You okay?"
You nodded, humming your approval. "Mhm– yes, m'good, Price. Mmm feels so good– please don't stop, please–"
Gently, he pulled out until his tip was just barely inside you, his length and the hair at the base glistened with your arousal. Then, he was thrusting back into you, making you moan his name again.
"Fuck, that's it, good girl, sweetheart," he murmured, sucking a kiss to your jaw. "There you go, just take it... taking it so well, sweetheart."
You moaned, arching your back. The sounds of his thrusts were wet and loud in the silence of your room, accompanied by the slapping of skin and your mewls of pleasure.
"Feels like you were just made for me," Price whispered, cock bullying the plug of your womb, making your eyes roll. "Mhm... this pretty cunt was just made for my cock."
"Sir..." You dragged out through a moan, hands flailing to keep you grounded, dragging up and down the plains of his back. You wanted to say something else. It began slipping out of your mouth, "Cap–" before you stopped yourself.
Price groaned, slamming into you harder. "Yeah that's right, pretty girl. Call me captain, baby. S'your captain making you feel so good, yeah? S'your captain filling this tight cunt."
You moaned loudly. You hoped your neighbours weren't home. Your nails dug into his back as tight pleasure built up in the base of your abdomen. Your thighs were quivering, your entire body being consumed by him.
Price, Price, Price.
He slammed into you again and again, drawing more sounds from you. His body was warm over yours, solid and comforting and you almost wanted to sob. You felt so good. He was making you feel so good. Your dad's best friend. Fuck.
You couldn't help but whimper at that thought, your clit pulsing, sitting shiny and puffy. And it's like Price knew– he always seemed to know what you wanted. Still fucking you steadily, he reached downwards, dragging his hand down your body. The rough pad of his middle finger found your swollen clit, and you keened, sobbing out a moan as he applied pressure.
"S'that feel good, sweetheart?" He asked in a whisper, pressing tight circles as his hips worked his cock into you. "Is this what you needed? Wanted me to play with this pretty clit, is that it?"
Your eyes rolled, his words turning your brain to mush. "Y-yeah," you stuttered, tummy drawing up tighter, legs quivering faster against the mattress. "F-feels... g..."
You sentence was lost as his cock hit that spot inside you over and over again, making your blood pump hot and the base of your belly flood with a burning kind of pleasure that had tears falling from your eyes.
Price kissed your tears away as you moaned, arching your back, your tits pressing up against his chest.
"Captain, please–" you choked on a pleasured sob. "M'gonna–"
"S'alright, sweetheart, come for me," Price said softly, kissing a tear from your cheek. "Good girl. Come for me."
He shifted his head and kissed you deeply when you came. Your tongues pressing together as you trembled against him, cunt squeezing his cock. Your release made your body burn up, and you felt it drip hot and wet out of you, dribbling around the sides of his cock. You moaned his name into his mouth, and he swallowed it whole, continuing to rut into you.
"Good girl, good girl..." Price muttered, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.
He moved his hand away from your clit, back up to the side of your head.
He released your lip when he groaned. "Fuck, m'not gonna last, sweetheart."
Dazed, you pressed your mouth to his again. It was sloppy and wet, uncoordinated through your post-orgasmic haze. He grunted against your tongue, thrusts losing rhythm as he neared his peak.
"Come for me, sir, please." You whispered into his mouth, and that sent him over the edge.
He groaned your name into your mouth, coming deep inside you. The warmth that filled you made you keen, and Price kept thrusting, panting with his lips brushing yours.
"Fuck, baby, fuck..." He whined, finally stilling inside you, plugging you full of him.
After a long moment of basking in each other's heat, he pulled out. You mewled as he sat on his ankles, watching his cum leak out of your dripping core. He gathered the mix on two fingers, shoving it back inside you with a satisfied grunt.
"So messy..."
•º•
Price cleaned you, applying a warm, damp cloth between your legs. He dressed you, too. While you were still laying down, he pulled your clothes back onto you– minus your bra, which you didn't want back on as that would've involved you actually sitting up– then he tucked you beneath the covers.
He placed a kiss to your forehead, before he ducked into the bathroom and cleaned himself up. When he returned to you, he put his clothes back on, and then leaned over to kiss you on the forehead again.
"You still hungry?" He asked, cupping your cheek and rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone.
You shook your head. "No... m'gonna sleep for a bit."
He smiled, kissing you briefly on the lips before leaving your room, closing the door behind him. He made his way downstairs and into the kitchen, your pasta sitting cold on the countertop. He tossed it back into the microwave and heated it up again. When he pulled it out, steam curling upwards, the front door opened.
Price felt a pang of guilt in the depths of his stomach, just briefly, before his mind was flooded with images of you, and he was desperately trying not to get hard again.
Your dad walked into the kitchen, dumping his work gear near the dining table.
"Hey, mate," your dad said with a smile. "Good day?"
Price couldn't help but smile, disguising it by stabbing a fork into the past and bringing it towards his mouth. "Yeah, mate, really good. You?"
Your dad continued on about his day, telling Price animatedly about his activities at work. Once he'd concluded his story, he looked around pointedly. "Where's our chef?"
Price laughed. "No chef today, mate. She's in bed."
"Oh, strange. Rough day at work, probably," your dad said. "She's a good girl, you know. I'm really proud of her."
Price smiled. He couldn't help but agree.
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was this ok? idek lol
2K notes · View notes
sluttywonwoo · 5 months
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you need to get ready for an event but ofc the dress won’t zip at the back so you go find hannie turning your back to him wordlessly so he can zip you up. he doesn’t get the memo he’s really rather distracted by you so he just zips it down and pushes it off your shoulders and before you can be all ??? about it he’s sucking on your neck and playing with your tits -💛
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jisung finds you in your bedroom, hands behind your back struggling to pull the zipper of your dress all the way up.
“almost ready, babe?” he asks.
“almost,” you assent.
he gives you a once over, humming in approval.
“you look so pretty,” he compliments from where he’s standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets.
you want to thank him but you’re too busy grunting in frustration. you’ve worn this dress a million times before, you know it fits, but the zipper always gets stuck around the bust area— the area that’s hardest to reach with your own hands.
you’re ready to give up so you turn your back jisung for help.
he gets the signal, or at least you think he does, until you feel the zipper moving the opposite direction of the way you wanted it.
he kisses the back of your neck as he pulls the sleeves off of your shoulders
“wait, ji… fuck,”
your protests quickly fade as jisung’s teeth sink into your skin, nipping lightly at your shoulder blade.
he kisses his way down your spine, following the fabric down your body until it pools at your feet and he’s on his knees. he taps your hips for you to step out of the dress so you do, turning to face him once again.
“smell so pretty too,” he murmurs to himself.
your eyes flit to the clock on your nightstand. you really should be going, but your boyfriend seems intent of making you late. you doubt he’s even thinking about the event now as he’s unbuttoning his nice shirt as to not get any of your arousal on it, doubt he’s worried about where you’re supposed to be in an hour as he lifts your knee over his shoulder…
he moans your name into your cunt as he gets the taste of you on his lips and tongue. he drinks you in, coaxing whines and whimpers from you like his life depends on it.
as good as he is with his mouth, you know cumming on his tongue will only make you needier and you don’t have a lot of time to do much of anything.
“please, ji, need you inside,” you beg, tugging at his hair and likely ruining the way he’d styled it.
he stands up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, undoing his belt with the other. he eyes the vanity, and you think he’s about to tell you to bend over it so he can make you watch him fuck you in the mirror, but something catches his eye in the reflection and he whips around to look at the clock.
“shit, we’re gonna be late.”
he scrambles for the shirt he’d dropped and wrestles it back on, tossing you your dress as he buttons it with one hand.
you blink at him, crestfallen. “but-”
“i’m sorry, baby, i got carried away. we have to go.”
you’re still frozen, looking at your boyfriend with disbelief. was he really going to make you go out like this? all worked up with no release?it feels like a cruel prank.
you’re so wet you know you’ll ruin any pair of underwear you put on, but if you don’t wear any, you’ll certainly stain your dress which would be much more embarrassing and cause several… issues.
“i’ll make it up to you, i promise,” jisung assures you. he sounds genuinely apologetic but you’re not in a very forgiving mood, shying away when he tries to kiss you on the cheek. he pouts. “baby…”
“forget about it, let’s go,” you huff.
this time jisung actually zips the dress up for you, trying to do some damage control by sweet talking in your ear.
“i’ll fuck you as hard and as long as you want when we get back,” he promises. “okay?”
“mhm.”
you walk out of the room as soon as he connects the metal clasp at the top of the dress, hearing him mutter something about how he’s fucked as he trails behind you.
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lxndonorris · 3 months
Text
wearing his clothes - Charles Leclerc
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Y/N x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smutish Charles catches you wearing his clothes, and he needs to put in some work to get it back x word count: 1900 taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :)
In the soft glow of the bedroom, you open the closet, looking at a display of your boyfriend's clothes. Charles owns so many pretty clothes, but one item in particular caught your attention once he brought it back from his latest photoshoot.
A beautiful black leather jacket, slim fit, tight—just the way he and you like it. Charles sent you the pictures right after the shoot, but seeing him actually wear those clothes blew your mind.
Right now, he is busy getting ready for a boy's night out with his closest friends. You saw him through the open door, running his fingers through his hair and styling it—a beautiful sight. You assume, as much as he loves that jacket, that he wants to wear it tonight.
At the same time, you know how much he loves seeing you wearing his clothes, and you want to use that to your advantage by teasing him a little and putting him in the right mood for today.
Looking through his closet, you find a few gorgeous jackets and designer clothes, and all of them tickle your fancy. However, that leather jacket is what you need.
"There you are." You carefully take it out of the closet and look at it. What a beautiful piece of clothing!
Just then, you hear his voice echo through the hallway. "Y/N? Have you seen my rings?" Charles exclaimed.
With a coy smile, you drape his leather jacket over your shoulders and slip inside, one arm at a time, savoring your boyfriend's familiar scent that envelopes you. The supple material embraces you, carrying his scent like a secret promise.
You catch a glimpse of yourself inside the mirror, his jacket hanging just right, accentuating the contours of your figure. The soft hum of anticipation fills the room as you hear footsteps approaching. Turning around to watch the doorhandle move, the jacket sets comfortably against your skin.
The door eases open, revealing him, his hair nicely done, his sweater, pants, and shoes flattering his well-formed physique perfectly.
"Y/N. I found the rings." Charles soft voice fills the room when his gaze falls upon you. Instantly, his eyes widen with surprise, and a grin forms on his lips. "Oh, hello." He says, casually leaning with one arm against the doorframe, as your focus shifts to the bulging biceps barely hidden underneath the fabric of his sweater.
"Hey." You lift your chin slightly and raise both of your eyebrows. His jacket makes you feel so comfortable, tough even. Running a hand through your hair, you strike a little pose, holding on to the jacket, when you catch him biting his lower lip.
"Well, aren't you a sight?" Charles remarks, his eyes lingering on the way the jacket clings to you.
You can't resist a mischievous smile, wearing that jacket like a trophy. "Thanks, babé." You tilt your head teasingly, enjoying how much his gaze devours all of you.
Charles licks his lips as his eyes linger on your chest, and subconsciously, he places a hand at his pecs and strokes himself before letting it run down his entire chest.
"That looks better on you than it does on me." He teased his voice, carrying a mischievous tone.
You feel a flush of warmth as his admiration becomes palpable. He closes the distance, his fingers tracing the edge of the jacket, and the touch a gentle caress.
"You really make it look so much better than I ever could." He admits that his voice low and appreciative.
The tension rises between the two of you as he moves even closer. The faint scent of his cologne grows stronger once he leans in to you, his soft lips barely brushing over your cheeks before he lets out a deep breath.
"Fuck. You're so hot." Charles' hands wander down to your waist, securely holding you in place. A spark of electricity rushes through your veins as you open your mouth, letting out a breathless sigh.
"Charles." You mouth, placing a hand at his firm chest, tracing the tangible outlines of his pecs through his tight clothes.
He breathes down your neck, surely holding back a low moan himself. "Y/N." Charles whispers, and you lean your head back in response.
"How about a trade?" You propose, gently stroking his chest. His muscles are tensing slightly, getting harder by the second.
He slowly separates himself, just enough for you to still feel his warmth against your cheek. "What do you have in mind?" Charles chuckles under his breath, both of his hands still at your waist, stroking you with his thumbs.
You lean in, steadying yourself against his frame with both of your hands. "A kiss for your favorite jacket?" Teasingly, you meet his burning gaze.
At the sound of your words, a mischievous smirk forms in the corner of his lips."
Y/N." He frowns. "I cannot decline that offer."
His eyes sparkle with a mixture of amusement and desire, and without hesitation, he closes the distance between you. The warmth of his lips meets yours in a sweet exchange, sealing the deal.
Once or twice, you kiss each other, embracing each other again and again. The tension engulfs both of you as you move even closer. His hands run along your waist, resting and caressing your butt, while yours run down his chest, feeling his toned body tense underneath his sweater.
But you won't stop there yet. In the heat of the moment, you cannot help but run a hand to his crotch, feeling his desire building up, forming a tangible bulge inside his pants.
He flinches once you touch and feel him, encouraging him to rock his hips against the palm of your hand.
"Mhmmm." Charles purrs right into your mouth as you close your eyes, fully embracing this moment.
"You like that, huh?" You tease once again and lean your head back, enjoying the smug grin spreading across his entire face. He narrows his eyes and lifts his chin as well, while you keep on teasing him with your fingers.
There is no need for more words. Both of you know that he's into that, enjoying you making the first move. Charles just shakes his head in amusement, a bright smile on his lips.
"You're one to talk." He says it with a playful tone.
Before you can react, however, he easily picks you up.
"Charles." You giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist.
Both of you giggle now as he carries you toward the bed. You hold on tight, hugging him with your arms and legs.
Gently, he puts you down on the soft mattress before he climbs on top of you, his body towering over yours.
"You're enjoying that, huh?" Charles smirks, his accent coming through a little.
Your eyes wander to his necklace, now hanging in the air just inches above your chest. The two of you are breathing quickly, barely able to catch your breath.
Nodding, you embrace him once he bends down, kissing you again and again while grinding his hips against your thighs.
Your whole body tingles in excitement, but you tilt your head to breathe deeply.
"Fuck. Charles." You let out a low groan when he starts placing kisses all over your neck.
Then, however, he stops.
"I need to go now." Charles places a hand at your neck, tracing your jawline with his fingers, before caressing your cheeks lovingly.
"I know." You lean into his soft touch, feeling his cold rings on your skin.
He helps you off the bed, reaching for your hand.
Lovingly, Charles starts to undress you, one arm at a time, you let go of his leather jacket. You enjoy feeling his hands run all over your upper body. Naturally, he uses this to his advantage, touching you and your boobs gently as well.
Giggling, you turn around, and your eyes meet again. This time, it is more playful, yet you're longing for his gentle touch, his warm embrace, and his lips on yours. Your heart is still racing, and you know he is feeling the same. Charles keeps on touching himself, stroking his chest, his tummy, and his bulge multiple times.
With a grin, he slips into the jacket that had just adorned me moments before. The material molds to his frame, accentuating his broad shoulders and making him look effortlessly good. You watch with a mix of curiosity and delight as he adjusts the collar, clearly enjoying the familiar comfort.
Charles then turns to you, a playful glint in his eyes. "How do I look?" He asks, striking the same pose as in the photoshoot.
Of course, he knows how well he looks. His strong yet slim frame looks so good as he strokes his chest through the fabric of his jacket. All of his clothes flatter him perfectly, but his pants are now unable to hide his desire.
A chuckle escapes you. "Surprisingly good, considering it's my turn to admire now." You reply, appreciating the sight of him wearing the jacket with a newfound allure.
He walks toward you, a swagger in his step, and wraps his arms around you, the jacket providing another layer of warmth. The scent lingers in your nose, making you lick your lips once.
"Maybe you should borrow it more often." He suggests, his lips curving into a charming smile.
You kiss him softly before he pulls away once more, walking over to the mirror, admiring his own reflection.
He runs a hand through his groomed beard, seemingly enjoying himself. When you catch him touching himself, his bulge firmly.
"We should finish that later." You raise your eyebrows again.
Curiously, he turns around, one hand still on his length and the other stroking his own chest.
"Oh, that sounds so good." His accent is still present as his rough voice fills the air all around you.
A soft smile plays on your lips as you take in the way he carries himself, the jacket adding a touch of rugged charm to his appearance. The dim light in the room cast a subtle glow on his features, emphasizing the allure of the moment.
Lost in admiration, you meet his eyes and whisper, "You look incredible in that jacket," letting the unspoken tension linger in the air.
The exchange of glances speaks volumes—a silent acknowledgement of the attraction that went beyond the fabric of the jacket, creating a connection that feels both intimate and exhilarating.
Charles closes the distance again, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a kiss followed by a warm, tight hug.
As he prepares to leave for the night, the air between you holds a subtle tension—a mix of longing and anticipation. He adjusts the jacket one last time, a confident smile on his lips.
You stand there, watching him with a longing gaze, wishing he would just stay now so you could extend this moment of intimacy.
Your eyes meet, and in that moment of lingering intensity, words seem unnecessary. The exchanged glances convey a myriad of emotions—affection, desire, and a touch of playfulness.
"I love you." Charles says softly, kissing you again.
"I love you too." You trace his jawline with two fingers, enjoying how his stubble tickles your skin. "Enjoy yourself, will you?" Patting his chest gently, you paint a coy smile on his lips.
With one last longing look, he leaves for the night.
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serosluv2 · 4 months
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obsessed bf x pretty gf trope hcs w sero & shoto pls & ty 😁😁 (seperately pls)
It’s only 7 months late but here u go anon ��
a/n: I wrote this in an hour in the bathtub so if it is shit- don’t tell me bc I’m just getting back into writing 😭😭
Shoto Todoroki
He fits this trope so well.
He is THEE resident pretty boy of UA so it makes perfect sense that he has the prettiest girl in all of Japan. (The world)
He is the teeny weeny ist bit dense on like how to take proper photos of you for the ‘gram but trust that he WILL be searching up everything about lighting and angles and exposure and zoom- all that nonsense.
If you’re a social media girly he may leave like one or two comments. He isn’t the best about being outwardly obsessed with you, he is all about those private small moments. Not being able to take his eyes off you anywhere. Always needing to be beside you. If he can’t be with you then trust he is texting you at every free moment and expects a response within 5 minutes.
He loves shopping with you and helping you pick out outfits or jewelry or how to style your makeup that day. He has no real opinion on what looks better tho he just loves seeing you get all prettied up. (Yk that tiktok where the girl is trying to decide on a dress color and her bf is just like “wtv u want mama u look breathtaking in both” ?That’s him.)
I feel like he doesn’t really buy you anything in the beginning of your relationship bc he doesn’t really see the point/value or something in that BUT all it takes is for kaminari to get you some product you’ve been wanting for a while for secret santa and seeing how touched you were by the gesture sends him into over drive:
“OH MY GOD! KAMI!!” You exclaim- wrapping your arms around him. “How did you know? I’ve been looking for this everywhere!” Shoto notices how big your eyes got and the slight blush on your cheeks from excitement and he feels, something unpleasant. Jealousy? Envy? Possessiveness? Whatever it is he doesn’t like how grateful you’re acting toward the blonde. I mean sure, he got you something nice you’ve wanted but that’s not his job (he just so happened to get you for secret santa so he kind of had to get you something) he’s not your boyfriend only your boyfriend- HIM- should be gifting you stuff. Then he kinda has a “ohh.” Moment and realizes he has never really gotten you anything just because.
Anyways after that whole interaction he is getting you anything and everything you look at for more than a second. You keep looking at some necklace at the store? Bought. He sees you liking tiktoks about girls getting flowers? Now you’re getting a bouquet every date night. Does he himself have money? No, but that No.1 hero daddy sure does. And let’s be honest he kind of owes shoto for making his childhood - for lack of a better word- awful.
In conclusion, Shoto loves his pretty girl and will do anything she asks of him without question.
Hanta Sero
Clawing at my cage for this man.
Now sero has been… infatuated with you since he first laid eyes on you one faithful morning. You were ordering at some coffee shop he passes by on his way to school and just one glance had him stopped dead in his tracks. The way your hair framed your face perfectly, your face in general because holy shit- you were gorgeous. Straight out of a magazine. He quickly took notice of the little embellishments you made to your uniform.. uniform? The same one Mina has. OH MY GOD YOU GO TO UA AND HE HAS NEVER SEEN YOU BEFORE?
He literally cannot stop thinking about you and boom you appear again in the halls. Your going the opposite direction has him with your friends and he sees you all have a little cafe cup. Did you buy them all a drink before class? So you’re stupidly gorgeous and nice. Great, he, for sure, has no chance with you now.
But oh that’s where he is wrong.
When you guys start dating he actually cannot believe it. He is very guarded at first because- now it’s my personal hc that sero is a bit insecure- he can’t fathom how you, YOU, would actually want to date someone like…him.
But once those walls come down he doesn’t shut up about you. Seriously all his friends are so annoyed:
“Good god soy sauce if you mention your little girly friend again I’m hurling you across the city.”
“You’re just mad you don’t have a girl as pretty as mine- don’t worry baku-man, I’m sure one day some poor person will take pity on your soul.”
Sero did in fact get hurled across the city that day.
Now where he differs from Shoto is that this man is a GOD with a camera. He has that artistic eye and is able to capture you being your baddest/cutest/authentic self.
Literally ya’ll
He also has a good sense of style. He never thinks you look bad in one thing versus another but he will take into account the vibe of where you’re going and what’s you’ll be doing and give his opinion based on that. Because he grew up with sister and knows how to get around the “which one looks better?” Type question without hurting you.
Now sero doesn’t have money to spoil you senseless but what he does have is the forever lasting instinct to put your comfort above his own. It’s freezing and you didn’t wear a jacket because “a hoe ever gets cold”? Don’t worry sero will give you his and be visibly growing icicles on his body to keep you warm. Feet hurt from those impractical shoes? He’s caring you all the way home even if he is still terribly sore from a killer arm workout the day before with kirishima. A no a mudy puddle and you’re wearing your new white shoes :(! Well sero is laying his jacket down over it or simply caring you over the puddle. He isn’t the type to roll his eyes at how “ridiculous” or “spoiled” you’re being. You are y/n freaking l/n. He’ll do whatever you need to make sure nothing in your life goes wrong.
He also is the type to spam comments in your TikTok or Insta post and makes all his friends do the same. Not that you need it- he just loves fueling your ego.
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macsimagines · 5 months
Note
Izana, Kisaki + Mikey finding their girlfriend sleeping in one of their shirts, like willingly? 🧡
TW: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, ABUSIVE BEHAVIOR, NEGLECT, MENTION OF KIDNAPPING
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Yandere!Izana Kurokawa
It started off with him kind of... not letting you leave his place. You came over for a late night booty call, and instead of demanding you get out of his face he wouldn't let you go that night.
Come the next morning and you wake up before him and you decide to dip before he can wake up and tell you to fuck off. Izana has never been overtly affectionate with you and you don't want to push him too far afterall.
But then you get a call later that day and he sounds...off.
"Hello-," "Just where the fuck are you, Y/N?" "O-oh? I woke up and left?" You tell him and you're so caught off guard by the slight annoyance in his voice what could you have done wrong?
"Why?"
And that throws you completely off. "Wasn't I supposed to?"
He doesn't answer. Just hangs up and you're left wondering what the hell happened, but you just shrug it off as maybe him not liking that one of his possessions left without permission...
The next time you two hookup, its the same thing. He's not trying to let you leave, and so you sleep over naked and just plan on wearing the same clothes you came in tomorrow. Except...
"I want you here when I get back, Y/N." He tells you before he leaves the next morning. And for whatever reason that look in his eyes means not to test him so you just sit around and wait for him all day.
But your clothes are kind of uncomfortable and its getting so laaaate. Izana wouldn't mind you borrowing one of his shirts right?
He really doesn't come back until 1am, and he's very happy you listened like a good girl, and even happier to see you dressed in one of his shirts while you sleep.
Izana thinks that he probably won't have to get your clothes from your old place. You could just use his. Ya. That'll be fine. Its his gift to you, for finally moving in with him where you belong.
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Yandere!Kisaki Tetta
You're a true fucking brat. No really, you've somehow become the single biggest pain in the ass he's ever had to deal with. You throw out everything he buys you, you scream and demand your freedom at every turn, you're constantly trying to escape him...
But he loves you, really and truly adores you, and you're not going anywhere now that he's got you locked in his penthouse. He won't make the same mistake, he's going to keep this one alive. You'll just have to learn to love him.
Oh but your latest tantrum has him rethinking it all. You set fire to the apartment, burning all the clothes he bought you in the bathtub and almost getting the cops called.
But he was smart, smoothed over the situation and had you sedated before you could throw an even bigger fit. Honestly, some small part of him doesn't think you're worth the trouble but he comes home the next day and those thoughts are all dashed.
You're laying in one of his silk shirts, bundled into the sheets so sweetly he thinks he can feel his heart actually ache at the sight of you.
You're so precious, and perfect to him. "That was expensive," he'll try to say dismissively, he doesn't want you to think he's forgiven you for your little fit just yet, "I burned all the other ugly stuff you got me. At least your clothes are comfortable." "..."
He won't say anything after that, but he does make a mental note that perhaps the Gucci and the Balenciaga are probably not to your tastes. He should just get you things in the same style as him. Couples matching outfits could be nice.
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Yandere!Manjiro Sano
Douchebag does not let you wear clothes he does not approve of. You belong to him and every aspect of your life belongs to him too, even what you wear.
And sometimes it's fine. Sometimes he's not around and you don't have to wear the skimpy dresses and designer shoes that hurt, sometimes you get to be comfortable and just chill out in your pajamas.
But you got too comfortable. He'd been gone for weeks again, because Micky comes and goes as he pleases, so you thought your usual fits would be fine.
Then he returns and for some reason he's pissed. It could be because the cops are on his ass, something didn't go his way or maybe his underlings were pissing him off, but for whatever reason for his rage he's decided he's going to take it out on you.
"What, Y/N? All the money I spend on nice clothes not good enough? You don't like the pretty thing I buy you?" "M-Mikey please-," "Too fuckin' good for the shit I give you?"
You're stripped bare and naked. For days. If you won't wear what he so graciously and lovingly gives you then you don't get to wear anything. And you're just shivering cold for a week straight trying to curl in yourself for any kind of warmth and comfort.
But after seven days of this hell you can't take it anymore. He doesn't even let you have sheets or blankets in your room anymore how the hell are you supposed to survive.
Thankfully, you find one of his discarded sweaters near the bed you two share and through it on without a second thought. You're nauseated because it still smells like him, but you can't bring yourself to take it off and be cold again.
You just snuggle into the fabric and finally find enough warmth and comfort to sleep that night. When Mikey comes home and sees you he realizes he's no longer angry. In fact, he's more than pleased.
"You just wanted to wear my clothes this whole time? That's fine. We'll share a wardrobe."
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chelseeebe · 8 months
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menswear.
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been wanting to write a menswear inspired lil ficcy for sooo so long n to celebrate the fact that i will finally hear it live after 9 years i thought this was a great time
a/n: i just wanna write a disclaimer that i am british and tend to britain-ise my writing so if it seems off for an american wedding don’t bite me x it’s ovulation week which is the only way i can explain this if i’m honest
summary: meeting steve at an old friend’s wedding could really only lead to one thing, couldn’t it?
18+. smut. alcohol and drug use. steve is a mess. no use of y/n!
steve’s still drunk from the night before, his tie crooked and one of the buttons on his shirt is uneven. he looked even more disheveled than he felt.
he hadn’t been keen on the idea of going to the wedding of his ex girlfriend and the man who essentially took her from him. not that he blames jonathan of course, he wasn’t exactly the gold standard boyfriend. he had his faults and would quite happily admit to them.
but still, it was confusing and weird and he’d tried to get out of it but robin had quite frankly insisted that he be there or else he was a terrible person.
so, as all sensible people would, he got absolutely fucking blasted the night before. he hadn’t meant to get so drunk but catching up with old friends and the kids he once looked after, had lead to him being carried off to his room by his best friend who was mumbling a bunch of profanities under her breath.
he still stank of booze, christ even he could smell it. it lingered on his body despite the twenty minute cold shower he had forced himself through this morning. there had been an attempt to style his hair but it mostly hung around his face in limp strands.
did you know the best way to beat a hangover is to keep drinking? hair of the dog and that. at least, that’s what he was telling himself. nursing a double whisky at the hotel bar at stupid o’clock this morning.
he didn’t have robin to hang off today, left to his own devices as she’d been recruited into the bridal party. her one track mind focussed on nancy and not her absolute failure of a best friend.
the venue was nice, a tad unorthodox and not where he’d choose to get married but it fit the strange pairing in a nice way. slinking up the cold stone of the aisle, trying to find his reserved seat among the crowds of people.
max pulls him into one of the rows, shoving him down on the empty seat with a small scowl on her face. she’d seen him struggling from her seat and had so graciously gone to help the poor man.
‘thanks.. max,’ he groans, nodding at the girl a she settles into his seat, honestly just hoping that the service would go quick so he could resume his pitiful drinking.
he sighs, thumbing through the programme. smiling slightly as he reads the officiants name, el hopper. they had just had to make this the strangest wedding he’d ever have the pleasure of attending.
‘do you know the bride or groom?’ your voice speaks from beside him, it’s the first time he’s realised that he’s actually sat next to anyone and he’s actually not in his own little world of misery.
‘huh?’ he asks, looking up to meet your eyes.
you’re smiling, looking as spritely as he wished he felt. clearly some people hadn’t got wasted the night before. amateurs.
‘do you know the bride or groom? sorry- i don’t really know anyone here,’ giving him a shy chuckle as your cheeks flush, maybe you would have to dip after the ceremony.
‘oh.. oh no, i know both of them.. nancy’s my ex girlfriend,’ he wants to kick himself because what on earth had compelled him to say something like that.
‘oh wow..’ you laugh, ‘not awkward at all then,’ kissing the back of your teeth.
‘it’s actually not.. not really,’ he shrugs, shuffling in his chair to face towards you properly, ‘i mean, if i had a choice i probably would’ve skipped but.. what can you do?’
‘right.. still, i don’t envy you,’ smoothing down the creased material of your dress, a deep green to match the earthy tones of the wedding.
‘d’you wanna know my secret to weddings?’ he smiles, leaning in.
‘mhm hit me.’
‘you just gotta get as drunk as humanly possible and they’re actually not so bad..’
‘isn’t it like..’ you check your wrist watch, ‘it’s noon,’ breaking into a giggle.
‘and that is why i started last night,’ tapping his finger on his temple, he was a genius really.
he wasn’t new to this game. having been forced to a plethora of fancy weddings with his parents and the wave of weddings from high school friends, he was wise to all the tricks in which made weddings bearable.
‘well, i might have to join you.. i don’t know anybody here,’ looking around at the hordes of strangers milling around the large room.
‘why are you here then?’ immediately wincing at his choice of words, ‘shit no.. i meant, do you know nancy? or jonathan? or have you snuck in?’
you giggle again and it’s music to his ears. sat next to a pretty girl who finds him funny? maybe today couldn’t be all that bad after all.
‘i know nancy.. we were roommates at emerson, she’s like.. the only person i’ve kept in contact with.’
he nods, going to speak but is abruptly interrupted by the sound of the organ chiming. your cue to actually start paying attention to the ceremony at hand. he turns his attention to the alter, exhaling heavily.
‘i’m so sorry.. i never asked your name,’ whispering with his body still facing the front, but completely leaning his shoulder into yours.
oh this wedding was about to be so much fun.
-
you had taken steve’s advice, who’s name you had now learnt, immediately downing a glass of champagne when you got to the reception. hey, if you were going to have to meet a thousand new people tonight, you’d have to be a little buzzed to do it.
it’s no surprise you’ve been shoved onto the singles table, finding your name on the board and slinking off to your corner of the banished. steve already sat slumped over at his seat which was suspiciously next to yours again. he totally hadn’t swapped out stacey’s name card for yours.. never.
you slide into the chair, ‘we have got to stop meeting like this,’ gently nudging his elbow with yours as to not alarm him.
‘huh,’ he smiles, eyes glistening, ‘it must be fate,’ swivelling on the chair to give you his attention.
‘must be,’ raising your eyebrows ever so slightly.
he’s nursing what must be his fifth? sixth? drink, this time opting for something a little more socially acceptable with a beer. if it weren’t an open bar he’d offer to buy you a drink but it seemed a little cheap.
‘so, where are you from?’ he’s utterly intrigued by you, desperate to know everything there is to know.
‘denver and then boston.. for college and now i’m in cincinnati for my job,’ you shrug, feeling immensely coy under his gaze, ‘i take it you’re from indiana like nancy?’
she had spoken about how people mostly stayed in their small town, they’d meet someone in high school and fall into the suburban family life without ever realising it. and then before they knew it, it was too late and they were stuck there. she was determined to not do that.
‘yeah..’ he sounds deflated, thinking of the place he called home, ‘but it’s home i guess..’ he taps on the table, ‘what d’ya do for work?’
‘i’m an editor at a publishing house,’ his expression says that he doesn’t entirely understand, ‘i work with a lot of writers and basically tell them what to do,’ that was the very basic premise of your role but you’d gathered that he probably didn’t actually care much.
‘oh wow.. so you’re boss lady then?’ swigging on the now-warm liquid, he’s listening intently to whatever comes out of your mouth.
‘hah.. not quite,’ fiddling with the tiny name plaque in front of you, ‘one day.. hopefully,’ you were never a fan of talking about yourself, ‘so what do you do?’
he rolls his eyes playfully, ‘work for my dad, i didn’t get into college soo.. he gave me a job,’ eyes wandering to the guests now joining your table, ‘but really i’m just a glorified assistant and even that’s being generous,’ playing off his disappointment with a small laugh.
‘well that doesn’t sound too bad..’ picking up on his demeanour, ‘shall we get another drink before we have to sit through the awful speeches?’
his pretty pink lips curl into a smirk, ‘i like your thinking,’ standing from the table with his hand offered out for you to hold.
-
‘i-i’ll say a couple words.. c’mon,’ he grins, stepping up towards the small stage, hopper reluctantly passes the mic over to steve, watching apprehensively as he climbs onto the stage.
robin sighs, this could really only go one way and she sure as hell did not want to be in the room to witness it.
there’s a chance that you two had slightly overdone it with the free bar.. you wince watching him up on the stage. the opinions of these people meant absolutely nothing to you but quite obviously did to him.
‘as you all know.. nancy is my ex girlfriend-,’ there’s a collective groan from the audience, ‘but.. but no, that’s not what i came to say.. i wanted to say that-,’ he hiccups into the microphone, ‘that the first time i properly spoke to jonathan, he beat my ass and fuck did it hurt,’ chuckling to himself, ‘but that ass kicking actually.. and you won’t believe it, but it made me a better person and y’know what.. i’m really happy for you,’ he thrusts his glass into the air, ‘so, please join me in a toast to our newly weds.. you deserve it,’ turning to face the cringing couple at the table.
nancy gives him a small smile, it wasn’t exactly shakespearean but the sentiment was nice and he hadn’t embarrassed himself or fallen off the stage head first so she was going to take it as a win.
‘thank you, steve,’ jonathan nods, steve’s sure he can see a tiny smile on his face despite the lousy speech he’d just given.
hopper claps him on the back as he gets off of the stage, taking a mental note to keep an eye on the boy for the rest of the evening. the free bar may not have been the wisest decision after all.
steve collapses into his chair, immediately leaning into you, ‘that was good, right?’ taking a sip of his drink.
‘uh.. yeah, maybe didn’t need to mention the ex girlfriend thing buuut.. i don’t think it was that bad,’ you laugh, watching as he nods in self satisfaction.
‘good, i’m glad you approve,’ his eyes are narrow, glossy as they look back at you, he tilts his glass for you to cheers.
‘cheers.. to a not-so-bad wedding,’ you say, knocking your glasses together.
‘and to new friends,’ he adds, that same grin you’d now become accustomed to after only a few short hours.
‘to new friends.’
-
you and your new friend had sorta maybe totally took full advantage of the free bar and the tiny bag of magic powder steve had kept in his blazer pocket. it wasn’t something you’d usually indulge in, but the champagne had gone to your head and the party was getting dull so..
‘i just wanna say.. i don’t do this shit all the time,’ using his credit card to push the powder into small lines on the edge of the basin, ‘just for when i need a little pick me up..’
he looks up at you from his hunched over position, he’s half-smiling as he pulls a ten dollar bill from his wallet, fiddling around as he rolls it into a small cylinder, offering it to you.
you’re cramped into one of the tiny cubicles together, your back pressed against the cold wall, ‘mm hmm and me either.. just to clarify,’ carefully placing the half-empty champagne flute down on the sink.
‘ladies first..’ hand brushing against against the small of your back as he stands up, mere inches from your face.
you oblige, bending over to sniff the powder, wincing as it stings on the way up. holding out the note for steve to take, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes the note. perhaps it was the copious amounts of alcohol but you could’ve worn you felt your heart miss a beat.
he stands back up, holding his nose. eyes still very much refusing to leave yours. they’re a beautiful chestnut colour and you’re sure they looked even better with a sober mind.
‘ready to dance?’ you ask, raising your brows.
his tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth to wet his lips, ‘in a minute,’ your heart pounding in not only your chest, ‘fuck- can i kiss you?’
‘please-,’
interrupted by his lips pressing against your own, eyes fluttering shut as his clammy hand finds your waist, pressing himself into your chest.
your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, his tongue glides over your bottom lip, mouth opening for him, as your fingers thread into his hair. he tastes of beer, cigarettes and the mint he’d not-so-sneakily shoved into his mouth before bringing you in here.
it’s all teeth and tongues, his hands getting grabby as they begin to roam around. you so desperately want to jump up onto the sink and let him fuck you into the porcelain right here. pressing your thighs together trying to satiate the growing ache.
you don’t, obviously. his lips chasing yours as you pull back, clawing at the back of his neck, the thumping music of the reception getting louder as someone enters the bathroom.
you put your finger on his lips, willing him not to say a word as the stranger locks themself in the cubicle right next to yours. he’s smirking, pupils blown out from the substance you’d shared. it was exhilarating, pushing his knee between your legs, fingers digging into your sides.
jesus christ, it feels like you’re in this position for eternity. waiting forever for the mystery person to vacate the bathroom. growing impatient as his fingertips dance around your hips, teasing as they tug on your dress.
eventually, they get the fuck out and steve is on your lips again before the door had chance to shut fully. moaning softly into his mouth at the sheer feeling of his thigh brushing against yours. you were a mess and he’d barely touched you yet.
‘shall we.. go? i have a room upstairs,’ mumbling between kisses, not wanting to let go of your lips for too long.
-
there’s a banging on the door just as he’s managed to slip your dress off. you clutch the material to your chest, covering your dignity in fear of intruders.
‘steve? you in there?’ a woman’s voice calls through the wood.
your eyes widen, absolutely certain that he’d had some hidden girlfriend who was now positively fuming that he’d disappeared with you.
his head slumps as he breathes out, hair brushing against your face, seemingly relieved with whoever was outside, ‘it’s rob.. let me just..’ he clambers off of the bed, ‘she won’t leave until i answer.’
steve swings open the door, met with an unimpressed robin. she’s been scouring the party for the last hour trying to find him. only to find out that he’d last been seen with a girl no one had ever seen before.
‘heyy rob.. everything okay?’ he asks cautiously, well aware that he was shirtless, belt hanging from his pant loops.
‘is everything okay with you? you just disappeared.. what’re you doing in there?’ eyeing his disheveled appearance.
‘ah shit i’m sorry.. i couldn’t find you,’ lies, he hadn’t even looked, far too interested in getting you back to his room.
her eyes narrow, glancing down at the hastily removed heel in the doorway, ‘d’you have a girl in there?’
he frowns at his best friend, ‘wha-? i’m just, going to bed..’ following her gaze to the shoe, ‘yes.. there is.’
you try not to giggle from behind the door, watching as he kicks your shoe backwards into the room.
‘ew,’ she grimaces, ‘why’d you answer the door, you freak.. i’ll see you in the morning,’ scoffing as she walks away.
steve closes the door gently before making his back to the bed, ‘i’m so sorry.. she woulda called the cops if i didn’t answer,’ climbing onto the mattress, sat on his knees in front of you.
‘oh? and she’s your..’ slightly bemused as to who that even was and why she seemed to care so much.
‘best friend,’ he leans in, tugging at the dress still pressed against your chest, ‘so where were we?’ devious smirk painting his face as your grip begins to loosen.
he presses forward, connecting your lips once more, nudging you into laying back, hovering over your body with one hand attempting to wrestle the dress from between your bodies. it lands on the carpet with a soft thud, his hand now free to roam the length of your body, fingers softly brushing over the waistband of your underwear before settling on your thigh. it’s cruel and teasing, you’ve already wasted so much time.
you move your hips upwards, chasing his touch. utterly desperate to feel him again. groaning into his mouth, not bothering to hide your impatience. steve smirks, walking his fingers up toward your hip.
his fingers slip into your carefully chosen panties, choking for air as he pulls back from your lips, ‘holy shit.. you’re soaking,’ still lingering around your aching heat, not doing anything to satisfy the growing wetness.
‘shut up,’ you grumble, pulling him back onto your mouth. rutting your hips to signal how desperate you really are.
he finally gets there, middle and forefinger travelling between your slick folds, rubbing pathetic circles around your clit. you’re grateful for the long awaited release, detaching from his lips to moan.
‘ohh fuck,’ he mutters, feeding off of the delightful sounds coming from your mouth. his cock twitching against your thigh.
‘please,’ you whine, unable to take any more of his incessant teasing. it had gone on for what felt like forever. you blame the various substances for your neediness and the subsequent lack of embarrassment for it.
‘keep begging like that and you can have anything you want,’ rescinding his fingers to tackle his own belt, hastily unbuckling the metal and yanking his suit pants down. boxers coming to rest around his thighs shortly after.
your eyes widen at the sight of his leaking cock springing up. you had felt that he was big but holy shit, this was something else. your surprise doesn’t go unnoticed, his veiny hand fisting his cock as his other hand comes to rest beside your head.
‘i’ll go slow,’ he breathes, eyes hooded as his chestnut eyes gaze into yours. he was used to the apprehension by now. your clammy hands grip onto the back of his neck, feet coming to rest on his lower back. nodding quickly underneath him.
he slides into your cunt achingly slow, his mouth falling open. a strangled sound rumbling from his throat, ‘fuck.. you feel.. so good,’ staying where he was, assessing your reaction before making his next move.
it feels like he’s splitting you open but it’s good. burning desire filling your veins, ‘fuck me..’ you nod, ‘please fuck me,’ becoming accustomed to the feeling of being full, pleading for him to just move.
you don’t have to tell him twice, an animalistic growl escaping as he begins to thrust his hips. he’s still holding back, you can tell but it’s oh so much better than his stagnant pace of before.
your eyes struggle to stay open, eyelids fluttering as he slams into you. hitting the sweet, soft spot you’re sure only he could reach. back arching off of the mattress, sweaty chests colliding, chasing that feeling.
‘oh my god,’ you moan, loud enough for whoever is staying in the adjacent room to hear. it’s filthy, lewd and desperate. the sound of his balls slapping against your supple skin, fastening in response to your encouragement.
‘yeah?’ he pants, reaching his hand around to brush the wild hair from your face. ‘been waiting to do this- nghh.. all fuckin’ day,’ relentless with his tempo, pubic area perfectly catching against your throbbing cult, hurtling you towards your orgasm.
‘fuck,’ you grit, eyes screwed shut. it’s disgusting how the sounds of your cunt fill the room, even worse that it was encouraging him. pounding into your hole ruthlessly, grunting as he nears his own orgasm.
the familiar sensation twists in your stomach, mouth hung open as it’s useless even attempting to muffle yourself. ‘steve..’ you mewl, more as a warning that you were fast approaching your release.
he can feel it, the way you clench around him and the utter mindless babbling coming from your mouth were all too familiar. ‘you gonna come? huh? you wanna come?’ struggling to keep his own composure.
you can’t even verbalise your response, nodding maniacally while your legs squeeze around his waist, keeping him deep inside as you begin to tremble. stomach flipping and your head becoming fuzzy, the tip of his cock nudging against the spongy spot as you come undone around him.
the pleasure is almost overwhelming, tears pricking in your eyes as you writhe against him. ‘shitshitshit,’ whining breathlessly into his ear.
‘oh fuck,’ he barks, beginning to lose his rhythm. hips stuttering as he fills you up, thick ropes of cum painting your walls. pulling out far too late and collapsing on top your sweaty body.
chest rising and falling in time with his as you try to regain your breath, still clinging onto his neck while he buries his face into your shoulder, arms wrapping around your back.
‘oh fuck is right,’ you remark, giggling at his pathetic demeanour. fingers running through his damp hair, his wet lips pressing against the skin of your neck. your mind still too hazy to truly comprehend the implications of him coming inside of you. something for tomorrow you to worry about.
‘i’m sorry,’ he mumbles, cocking his head to finally look up at you, ‘your fault..’ attempting to crack a joke.
‘oh it’s my fault?’
‘oh yeah,’ shifting off of your body and onto the bed slightly, still holding onto your waist. ‘i’d have a baby with you any day,’ wrestling to pull the blanket over your bodies.
you narrow your eyes, resting your head on the soft pillow, choosing to blissfully ignore his comments. the toll of the long day starting to take on your body as your eyes begin to close. snuggling into the side of his body, tangling your leg between his.
‘i wasn’t joking,’ he murmurs sleepily, fingers brushing your back softly.
‘shut up.’
-
you’re wary of even waking him, wondering if it’d be easier to just slip out unnoticed. maybe you could leave a note on the bedside table for him to find.
no. no, that’d be rude. most one night stands you wouldn’t even be contemplating it, you’d have ran out of there the second you were awake. something felt different with steve.. like maybe you shouldn’t.
you nudge his arm, leaning over his body.
‘steve? steve.. i have to go..’ you coo softly, coaxing him awake.
he jolts, snapping his head in your direction, ‘huh? what?’ squinting as he comes to, head already pounding from the copious amounts of liquor he’d ingested last night.
‘i have to go..’ smiling at his sleepy demeanour.
‘what? no.. no no, where are you going?’ voice heavy with sleep, a whole octave deeper than it was last night.
‘i’ve gotta check out out of my room and drive home.’
he sits up agains the pillow, stretching his arms out with a stifled yawn, ‘now? it’s so early,’ his fingers wrap around your wrist, ‘stay.. ten minutes,’ gently trying to pull you back into the bed with him.
‘it’s a long drive.. i can’t,’ you mutter, standing strong despite the overwhelming urge to just get back into the warm bed with him.
‘let me walk you back then,’ the smooth pad of his thumb tracing along your wrist, ‘gimme like.. five minutes and we can go,’ dropping your arm as he springs out of the bed.
‘you don’t have to.. really,’ you persist, watching as he shimmies into a discarded pair of sweatpants, frantically searching for a clean t-shirt in his suitcase.
‘well i’m going to,’ he pulls it over his messy hair, it had been neglected the last few days and he’d been kicking himself for not looking his best for you.
you simply smile at him, nothing you could say would change his mind so it was easier not to and you weren’t exactly averse to spending more time with him.
he emerges from the bathroom looking slightly more put together, ‘okay i’m ready.. let’s go,’ grabbing his wallet, nearly empty cigarette box and his room key from his discarded pants pocket and grinning.
it’s a comfortable silence on the way back to your room, steve nodding his head at a few wedding guest stragglers who were either doing the exact same thing you were doing or trying to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.
the atmosphere is pleasant, almost natural as you walk the halls. arms brushing against each other with every step.
‘well, this is me,’ nodding at the basically untouched hotel room. you’d stepped foot in it once to drop your bag off and hadn’t seen it since.
steve’s biting down onto his bottom lip, ‘you really gotta go now?’ sounding a little disappointed.
‘i’m back to work tomorrow.. i’m sorry,’ trying to disguise your own disappointment. realistically, you probably wouldn’t see him again. just a one time, crazy wedding story you would look back on fondly in a few years.
‘i’m not,’ he offers, trying desperately not to let this go. dating in hawkins wasn’t great, and he wasn’t sure that he’d ever find someone like you even if he searched for his entire life. he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t at least try.
‘oh?’ raising your brows.
‘yanno, i’ve never been to cincinnati before,’ smirking down at you, ‘i was actually thinking of taking a little vacation there.. like, this week?’
the corners of your lips twitch into a smile, ‘you know what? that sounds like a great idea.’
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junicult · 10 months
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What do you think the bachelors prefer more, Ass or Tits? I'm just curious what you think
!! which bachelors prefer your boobs / ass
contains ; nsfw! reader is implied to have a curvier body. some smut. some fluff. fem!farmer. the words boobs & butt are used. (1) mention of f!receiving oral. not proofread / probably missing some tags.
note ; ahh, the age old question.
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harvey.
- he couldn’t care less what you have under your clothes.
- that being said…boobs.
- during sex, in general he doesn’t really like when he can’t see you / your face.
- doggy style isn’t his favorite, not because it doesn’t feel good but because it doesn’t feel like he’s focused on you. he wants to see you, he doesn’t like the way it makes him feel like he’s not having sex with you.
- he’s already a big fan of missionary. he loves when he can really be in the moment w you.
- …and ur boobs just so happen to be right in front of him.
- the soft bounce, how they fit in his palms, and overall just how they look. he likes them, okay🤷‍♀️
- he’s never outright said it, though. if u asked he might but i doubt it.
- he doesn’t want to objectify you like that. it’s not like he looks at you and thinks how much better your tits look then anything else.
- it’s just obvious.
- wear a low cut shirt and his eyes might wander. i’m just saying.
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sam.
- i literally can’t decide. i’m serious i have no idea.
- i just love the thought of him being obsessed with you (like a good husband should) so even if he was asked the question, he couldn’t answer!!!
- “hey babe, do you like my tits or ass more?” and he’ll ponder on it like you asked him what the meaning of life was.
- he loves your boobs because they’re soft, he likes resting his head on them, and holding them under your shirt whenever you lay together (yes he does that).
- he loves your butt because…well it looks nice. he likes looking at it lmfao.
- it’s just as soft and fits nice in his hands when he pulls you in to kiss you sometimes.
- it’d be funny if you actually asked him, cus he’d still be thinking about it hours later.
- ur laying in bed together, his cheek is resting on your chest and he’ll just mumble, “i think your boobs might be the answer.”
- and if u bend over in front of him to pick up something on the floor, he’ll just sigh and say, “maybe it’s your butt…?”
- like MOVE ON!! IT’S BEEN DAYS😭😭😭
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shane.
- might be controversial…but boobs.
- he loves ur boobs, and all for the previously stated reasons.
- he’s a little more openly a pervert then anyone else💀
- he’ll stare at ur boobs mid conversation, and will just look up at you like nothing happened.
- lol if u guys were arguing or something, and you catch him looking, you’ll just stop and say, “i’m sorry, were they saying something?”
- he just chuckles, “yeah, i think they were agreeing with you.”
- he knows time and place tho. if the argument is more of a fight, he doesn’t have time to stare💀💀
- he also loves the way they feel, how soft they are when he squeezes them.
- and in general your tits can easily get him hard if that’s your goal.
- he likes to bite them, suck on them, squeeze them, fuck them. they’re pretty & he enjoys feeling them up.
- don’t even get me started on when u wear jewelry that dangles right into your cleavage.
- he’s way too horny to just ignore it.
- needless to say, you’ve given him a titjob before 😇
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sebastian.
- he’ll never admit it.
- and he definitely loves both, i promise.
- it’s a close second…but i think he likes ur ass more.
- in general, i don’t think he actually dwells on that stuff. he thinks it’s silly, and stupid because he loves you no matter what you have.
- i don’t even think he’s ever even given it in-deep thought.
- if we’re talking non-sexual, he might prefer your boobs only because they’re so versatile 😊
- he’s just like any other guy: he wants to lay between them with your arms wrapped around him while he naps.
- he’ll hold them while you spoon. he’s no different then anyone else.
- but when he’s horny, and he’s looking at your body sexually, he might like your ass a bit more.
- it’s sorta obvious in the way he’ll get hard so quickly if you turn around to take off ur pants in front of him lmfao.
- he runs on auto pilot when ur ass is in front of him, i’m just sayin.
- he’ll definitely want to squeeze it, especially when you’re sitting on his lap.
- or when he’s fucking you from behind, he’s addicted to the way you arch into him, and the way your skin ripples when his hips slam into yours.
- he’s pretty lanky, & something abt ur phat ass just drowning him makes him a little excited. i’ll say it.
- if you ever asked, he’d probably just say, “i dunno, i like them both.”
- and if you told him you think he likes ur ass more, he’ll just shrug and say, “i guess so.”
- he really doesn’t gaf.
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alex.
- ughhhhh
- i feel like this one kinda depends on whichever you have more of.
- he’s not a pig (anymore.) it’s not like he’s married to you because of your cup size.
- he likes all of you, not just your body.
- he’s also not picky!! i’m just saying, if his ex had larger boobs when you have a larger ass—that literally means nothing to him.
- it’s your boobs and your ass that sexually attracts him. not anyone else’s.
- and also, if you don’t have larger boobs or a larger ass, he doesn’t care either.
- he’ll still smack your ass if you walk past him, and eye ur tits in a tank top.
- if u have larger boobs, he’s definitely wanting to moterboat them😭😭😭
- he likes to hold them, press them together and squeeze them whenever u give him the chance.
- he acts like they’re the first pair of tits he’s ever seen.
- and if your ass is larger, dw, he’s unrelenting.
- his hands will always wander whenever you give him even just a quick kiss.
- he’ll give it a little squeeze and grin at you like he didn’t.
- …he’ll eat u out from the back just so ur ass is in his face🫣
- but the thing is, no matter what you have larger or less of, he’s still doing all of these things 😭
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elliot.
- is there a third option?
- i’m not abt to say personality, bc obviously all of these men love your personality. they’re grown adults, they’re not married to u bc of ur body.
- if we bring thighs into the mix, then i might have to rewrite some things (sdv men love thighs it’s canon.)
- it’s impossible to tell if he actually did have a preference because of the way he treats you so delicately.
- like, if he did prefer your ass, all you would have to show for it was when his hand would already be resting on your lower back, before he moved to just cup one of your cheeks (lol)
- or your boobs, when he’d gently kiss over your heart as a sign of affection.
- if we’re heading towards sexual, i still think he doesn’t have a favorites
- he does everything in his power to show every bit of you as much love as he can.
- you’re perfect to him, and he wants you to know that.
- he doesn’t wanna potentially make you insecure if you know he prefers your boobs, which you have less of then your ass, or vise versa.
- he loves all of you, and he’ll absolutely prove it.
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psa: pls take this lightheartedly, i don’t intend to hurt anyone’s feelings. it’s all in good fun!!
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🧁 cupcake analysis 🧁
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YES, YOU READ THAT CORRECTLY 🤡 I’m still fixated on the cute character-themed cupcakes we got from the recent TsumTsums x TWST collab… so I’m going to talk about more things I noticed in the cupcake designs by dorm + by individual characters!
Mmm, cupcakes… 🧁 I would make these if only I had the tools to make all of the painstaking little details—
Heartslabyul
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They all have checkered cupcake liners with a half-painted white rose. Famous Heartslabyul iconography!
Their names are written out in a white cursive font. Not the wackiest they could have gone with, but it fits the whimsical style of these cupcakes.
Riddle
Of course, we have strawberries—a fruit from Riddle’s favorite dessert, his beloved strawberry tarts (which also have personal significance to him, being as it was a strawberry tart’s taste that entranced him and made him late to return home as a child). The ring of frosting piped around the strawberries kind of creates the illusion of a tart’s puff pastry with the fruit nesting inside.
Red frosting made with a piping tip to resemble a big rose! Again, more famous Heartslabyul iconography.
IT HAS RIDDLE’S HEART AHOGE 😭
The cupcake also has the crown and a ribbon similar to the ones he wears in his Dorm Uniform~
Unlike the other Heartslabyul cupcakes, Riddle’s is predominantly one color: red. This could be referring to how Riddle is the most rigid in the dorm and someone who demands uniformity and preaches absolutism (“follow the rules”, “paint all the roses red”, etc.).
Even so! There are still little gold and blue sprinkles (though still in a neat arrangement)! I like to think of them as sprinkles of hope and a willingness to change… the first step he’s taking outside of his comfort zone!
No card; this makes sense since Riddle is also the only one without a card suit mark on his face.
Trey
The cookie iced to look like his hat…
Another cookie iced to look like the three of clubs heart (for obvious reasons)!
Trey’s cupcake looks kinda fuzzy like moss, so that leads me to believe the frosting got dipped in sanding sugar to give it texture or something. This makes the cupcake look like it’s an unassuming shrub—and really, isn’t that what Trey claims to be? He’s not an exciting red rose like Riddle, he’s the mild-mannered “normal” guy there to support the flower as the leaves and shoots.
Sugared violets as a topping! Nice way of incorporating Trey’s favorite food into this.
He has a little dusting of sprinkles too; maybe because it was him that showed Riddle “a whole new world”.
There seems to be a layer of jagged chunks (maybe crushed pistachios) along the rim. Feels quite different than the rest of the cake—maybe it’s to represent the less kind side of himself that Trey sometimes alludes to.
Two cookie sticks, which remind me of like two spears crossing to block off a path to the queen. On-brand for Trey, who initially follows Riddle’s orders to a T and kicks out his rule-breaking underclassmen.
Cater
There’s a LOT going on here, and I wonder if that’s in part because Cater is a Magicam fiend and in part because he’s using his flashiness to distract from looking deeper into him. This cupcake reflects that idea well, especially with the colorful sprinkles in the center (as opposed to spread out like Trey or Riddle’s) to make the otherwise mainly orange and red cake pop out more on a social media feed. It also could mean that Cater really keeps to himself, as the sprinkles are not spread outward.
If you look closely, the frosting vaguely resembles Cater’s hair. There’s a larger dollop in the middle which sort of looks like the middle section of his hair that’s pulled back.
There’s lots of little decorations that resembles the decorations on Cater’s phone case—an item near and dear to his heart.
The orange slices can be sweet—the impression that Cater tries to give off—but the pretzel implies a savory taste—what he actually prefers to eat.
There’s a squiggle of darker orange under his name. Is it to call attention to his identity? Cater tries to seek validation and attention from socials, so maybe this is a call to action.
Cater’s cupcake is the only one in his entire dorm that has TWO cards (both four of diamonds). One is probably a cookie and is in full color whole the other is one solid color (brown) and made of chocolate. Most likely this is referring to his UM, which allows Cater to create clones of himself. I wonder if the second card being chocolate alludes to something else too… Namely, the more melancholy and downtrodden part of himself that Cater usually does not let his peers know about 😔
Also two cookie sticks! Similar meaning as Trey’s, especially given that Cater was the first upperclassman to toss Adeuce out (after he gets them to paint the roses for him).
Ace
Ace of hearts card!
A sprinkle of hearts… Are any of us surprised??
His frosting is very ruffled and playful, much like his personality.
The cupcake is more on the simple side compared to many of the others; this is also very “Ace” of him, as Ace is commonly described as “the average high school boy” and has indicated himself that he has no particular goals or ambitions yet.
There’s a cherry on top! Very bright and cheeky, just like Ace—oh, and let’s not forget, cherry pie is his favorite food!
There’s also what appears to be almond shavings on Ace’s cupcake; almonds are actually very closely related to cherries so it’s a great pairing! If we really wanna stretch it, maybe it’s a reference to how Ace is skilled at mimicking or copying others, as the taste/smell of almond and cherries can be commonly mistaken for one another.
Deuce
Two of spades card!
Deuce’s cupcake has a very different texture to it. Unlike the others, his is very smoothed out and almost shiny (like a mirror glazed cake!). It makes me think this is to help him stand out as someone who is trying to reform and reinvent himself into something sparkling—especially seeing as the blue part of the cake seems to be covering up/glooping over the body of the cupcake itself.
Little candy eggs (one with a crack in it) and a baby chick! A callback to him liking egg dishes and the utter despair he experienced when he first learned that supermarket eggs aren’t fertilized…
The light blue squiggle makes me think of Deuce meandering and not knowing where he wants to go in life, representative of his delinquent phase or perhaps struggling to stay on the straight and narrow path of an honors student.
Finally, we have the grey marks on the cupcake which look like tire marks left from skidding around on a magical wheel/blastcycle, Deuce’s preferred mode of transportation!
Deuce's cupcake goes from blonde/yellowish to blue, which probably refers to him going from bleached hair as a delinquent to his natural hair color as he tries to reform himself.
Savanaclaw
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Golden yellow cupcake liners with Savanaclaw’s signature horizontal zigzag pattern.
Their names seem to be done in a blocky text on chocolate. Fits the tough, somewhat rigid hierarchical feel of the dorm.
Leona
A crescent moon-shaped candy invokes the imagery of Scar singing the final line to Be Prepared as he and the hyenas ready themselves for the coup.
The darker frosting swirled on the side be interpreted as his scar or maybe the end of his tail.
Cacao nibs kind of remind me of rocks, perhaps to symbolize the hard childhood Leona had, desperately trying to prove himself to people who didn’t like him in the first place. There’s notably also golden specks there—a ray of hope for him to be better? Or maybe a nod to his noble lineage.
The chocolate sauce makes this cupcake feel very decadent but also adds to the dark look of it. I would say it resembles blot, but none of the other OB boys have this same feature. Maybe a hint at Leona’s depressive traits?
Wishful thinking on my part, but Leona’s cupcake is the only one in his dorm with a large splash of green (thanks to the leaves there). I like to think it’s him “turning over a new leaf” and turning his sights onto his internship + working toward helping to help preserve nature and discover energy efficient methods to help his country.
His cupcake is the “tallest” in Savanaclaw (because of how high his frosting is)—he’s obviously the leader of the pack.
Ruggie
Very decadent cupcake. A large scoop of ice-cream, nuts, pastries, tons of cream and frosting… it looks like someone just piled on all their favorite desserts (which suits a glutton like him). Even his own cake looks like it’s about to burst out of the liner!
Two donuts inserted in, because 1) they’re Ruggie’s favorite and 2) two is better than one!
The scattered chunks of chocolate resemble the pattern on the coat of a spotted hyena, which is what Ruggie is.
Jack
WHY DOES HIS CUPCAKE JUST STRAIGHT UP LOOK LIKE HIM… The two paler frosting peaks are his ears, the two-tone swirl results in his hair but also results in the high peak of his tail.
This cupcake has a lot of nuts (I see a walnut, a cashew, maybe crushed peanuts, and many whole hazelnuts). Maybe because Jack is “a tough nut to crack” due to his stoic and standoffish attitude? But we all know he’s a sweetheart deep down, perhaps why the most abundant of these nuts is hazelnuts, often used in many desserts and especially paired with chocolate.
xvsjwveiwk This is a slightly unserious note but there’s something whitish that night be dried coconut??? Sprinkled on the cake… I-Is that Jack shedding/j
Octavinelle
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Each Octavinelle cupcake has a black macaron decorated to resemble their dorm uniform hats! The filling is purple (like Octa’s usual color) and has candy pearls (since they’re from the sea).
Their names are written in an elegant flowing font, with emphasis on the first letter of their names (slightly bigger than the other letters). It provides an impression that differs from the other letters in their names, much like how the Octatrio themselves can be deceptive.
A bowtie that matches what each boy wears in his dorm uniform.
The sprinkling of little purple pearls could really be nothing, but they could also be all the powers/abilities they have collected together.
Azul
The single chocolate stick (not two, unlike Cater and Trey’s) could pass as a straw, making the whole cupcake appear like a drink. Makes sense, the Mostro Lounge has a 1 drink minimum + his Dorm Uniform vignette is all about how he wants to buy the rights for the popular Mystery Drink from Sam.
A little contract and writhing chocolate tentacles pair nicely together. Together, they represent his UM and how his tendrils reach out to pull people into deals.
Azul also has a scoop of ice-cream, but it is notably VERY different looking than Ruggie’s. Azul’s is much smaller (because he moderates what he eats and how much) and neater too (because he cares about his tidy appearance).
There is a swirl of purple frosting on the bottom but most of the frosting is white and piled high. The former must be Ursula’s skin, and the latter her hair, as it is similar in shape.
His cupcake liner has the widest stripes (because he used to be overweight in the past) and has little purple dots (maybe in reference to the suctions on his tentacles).
Azul keeps the spiral seashell that resembles Ursula’s necklace.
Azul's cupcake goes from purple to white, which may denote his transition from octopus merman to human.
Tweels
The twins have a scalloped seashell that splits in half, representing the other brother. The way the shell divets also makes it look like a heart shape, implying the brothers “share a heart” or perhaps calling back to how both of their UMs involve “the heart” (Shock/Bind the Heart).
Their frosting is the color of their hair, even containing a stripe of black (in opposite directions) to match their hair. The frosting also seems to be slightly textured, which matches the gills and scales on their merforms.
The peak of the frosting resembles the ends of their eel tails flicking in opposite directions.
Three diamond-shaped “scales” on each cupcake; this is ghe same shape and design as the earrings they wear.
A ring of purple frosting is included; this could represent Azul, someone whom the twins closely work with and consider a great source of amusement. It’s telling that the purple frosting is below the teal frosting, as the twins have made it clear before that they’re not his minions or “below” him, they act independently and choose to follow Azul because they want to (and have the agency to leave whenever).
Jade
Jade’s cupcake liner has the most numerous and thinnest vertical stripes. There is also a very fine zigzag running through the liner. Very similar to Jade’s teeth arrangement and how they present as small but frequent.
Jade's cupcake stays a consistent color throughout the creation process.
Floyd
Floyd’s cupcake liner is in the middle of Azul and Jade’s in terms of line spread and thickness. The zigzag is also more elongated than Jade’s, matching Floyd’s more easygoing personality between the two twins. He’s also more likely to show his full teeth!
Floyd's cupcake goes from gold to teal, but Jade does not do the same or even the reverse. Maybe this hints at how Floyd is the more fickle brother?
Scarabia
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Scarabia cupcake liners are color blocked with solid black and a deep red with an intricate golden pattern. Matches their dorm uniforms well!
They have snake biscuits with their names in bold, blocky all capital letters for impact. The biscuit shape suits the Sorcerer of the Sands. The text choice… I’m not sure, maybe to match the “casual streetwear” style of the dorm…? Or the dorm leader’s brazenness and overt friendliness?
Kalim
His earrings have been made into an edible version!
Thumbprint cookies that resemble glistening jewels! This, plus the colorful sugar pearls, represents Kalim’s immense wealth.
There’s a bow tied around his cupcake liner, which matches the cloth he wears around his head in many outfits of his.
The feathers that transition in color are for Kalim’s love of animals and willingness to accept others of all kinds (“colors”). This could also be a reference to his Dorm Uniform vignettes, where he pulled off a trick that made white birds appear to be “rainbow”.
At first I thought the white puffy frosting was to look like the Sultan’s turban, but wouldn’t they make it smoother and resemble one cohesive lump in that case…? Then I realized the white frosting actually resembles a CLOUD 😭 which fits Kalim so well, since he takes his friends out on magic carpet rides…
The red peak poking out of the top could be like… the domed roof of a tower, since there is one both for the Sultan’s palace and in Scarabia dorm. The white sprinkles/coconut shreds on the red part also gives the impression that the roof just poked through the clouds www
VERY tiny detail but if you look closely you’ll notice that Kalim’s cupcake is… lumpy… almost as though he tried baking for the first time himself and messed it up a little, so Jamil took over decorating for him to cover up the mistakes. (That’s headcanon anyway, lol)
Jamil
Jamil’s cupcake is a two-tone twirl thar matches the colors of his dorm AND the turban he wears when he overblots.
We have the classic red feather, three golden orbs, and a thumprint cookie (again, resembling a jewel) to match Kalim’s and to match Jamil’s hair accessories!
The little bits of gold sprinkled around are hard to place but maybe it’s to show how Jamil has to put Kalim first and foremost while his own feelings get dismissed/belittled/treated as less important.
Large chunks of chocolate on top! Not sure what this could be, but a part of me wants to believe it’s his depressive or defeatist traits, since Leona also has chocolate, but scattered. (Can you tell I loved these two’s interactions in book 6?)
Finally, we come to the enigmatic and out-of-place golden squiggle. Someone as meticulous as Jamil couldn’t possibly have intentionally placed that there, right…? Allow me, if you will, to circle back to the “Kalim was trying to bake with Jamil” theory… What if, while Jamil was decorating Kalim’s cupcake to cover up the unevenness of the cake, Kalim tried to thank Jamil and repay the favor by decorating Jamil’s cupcake??? And it resulted in… that squiggle… so Jamil had to roll with it and make the rest of his cupcake look as aesthetically pleasing as possible.
Pomefiore
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All Pomefiore names are written in elegant script on a chocolate disc that is also stamped with the stars and moons of their dorm.
The cupcake liners have the same stars and moons pattern and has the colors of Pomefiore.
Vil
Similar to Riddle, Vil has a crown to show that he is the dorm leader. His is, of course, a different design to reflect a different queen (the Fairest Queen, not the Queen of Hearts).
The frosting has a slight gradient which is the same as the tips his hair.
The golden leaves match the leaves on the back of his dorm leader tiara/crown.
There are berries on top; notably, a red one still has a bit of leaf and branch stuck to it, making the berry look like a red apple (you know, cuz the Evil Queen used one to poison Snow White).
Vil has golden dust and two types of round candies evenly dispersed on the cupcake. It shows us how clean and yet elegant his personal style is.
Rook
Rook's cupcake has a very unique shape that is not quite like any other student's. Indeed, his cupcake resembles his hat (note the little feather sticking out of the top purple part) and bangs (the lower yellow part).
The purple part looks like it is made with an extruder and results in a texture similar to the top of a mont blanc; this is probably to help differentiate it from the smoother texture of the yellow beneath. Since the purple is a hat, the texture is most likely to make it seem more "fabric-like".
The yellow part + the color change from yellow to purple may also be a reference to how he was originally in Savanaclaw, but then transferred to Pomefiore.
An edible bow and arrow motif befitting of a skilled huntsman!
The squiggle line here seems to be showing the path of his arrow, which always finds its mark. Additionally, Rook himself is a tricky person and usually employs roundabout strategies or misdirecting ways to achieve his goals.
At the end of the arrow's path is a cluster of what seems to be pomegranate seeds, which seems odd and something more befitting of Idia or Ortho (who have ties with Hades; there is a tale about Hades having Persephone eat a pomegranate fruit which dooms her to spending half of her time in the Underworld). However, I think here the pomegranate seeds are meant to be... like... an artistic, abstract depiction of blood once the arrow strikes its target.
There's blueberries on top, an element he has in common with Vil (someone whom he devotes himself to). The leaves here with the berries tie Rook to the wild, both as a huntsman and has an ex-Savanaclaw student.
Epel
The pale purple color of the frosting is the same as Epel’s hair!
Unlike Vil’s sprinkled-on decorations, Epel’s are not spread out evenly and instead cluster at the top. This may be attributed to their different levels of maturity, as Vil and more knowledgable than Epel, who expresses outdated views on gender and has a limited understanding of the world due to coming from a very rural area.
There’s a fine shimmer on Epel’s cupcake—probably because his arc in book 5 was about learning to appreciate and weaponize his beauty.
Two apple slices because… well, when you think of Epel, you think of apples and the Felmier family business!
There seems to be a little bit of yellow peaking out from the cake? Are those more apple slices or an apple filling…?
The pale frilled strip of frosting resembles a lace collar, something which Epel wears in his school uniform.
Epel is the only member of Pomefiore to have a cupcake which LACKS a blueberry (or really any berries at all). This is a subtle indication that he is the “odd one out” within the dorm, as he, unlike Rook, is not conforming to the standards set by his dorm leader.
Ignihyde
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The Ignihyde cupcake liner has the same black and blue geometric look as their dorm uniform jackets.
I don’t know how to really describe the font their names are written in, but the way the letters are cut reminds me of a “Greek” style of text (similar to this).
Their names seem to be displayed on Oreos chocolate sandwich cookies with Ignihyde blue fillings. Counting the parts (2 cookies, the cream filling), there’s three in total, which matches the count of the heads of Cerberus, as well as how many Shroud brothers there are.
Both Idia and Ortho have what look to be confetti cakes as the base for their cupcakes, Because of the dark color of the cake and the bright color of the sprinkles, it creates the impression of stars in the night sky—maybe to reference Star Rogue, their favorite video game.
Idia
The skull-shaped technomantic device Ida uses to launch his magic spells tops off his cupcake.
On either side of the skull device are candies (?) that look like the same light sticks Idia is super into waving around at his beloved idols’ concerts.
The blue frosting is meant to look like his fiery hair!
Idia’s cupcake goes from a red gradient to a blue one. His hair actually goes change color like this based (on his mood), We’ve seen his hair go from blue to red from anger and/or determination and passion in both book 7 and in his Dorm Uniform vignettes.
Ortho
This cupcake seems to represent both the deceased Ortho and the current android Ortho.
Not sure what it is, but there’s something with a cybernetic glowing design that implies a circuit board; this is part of the internal parts which make up robo!Ortho.
There’s some kind of sauce with sprinkles over the top of that layer; this could be the blot that makes up phantom!Ortho, since we usually don’t associate the “dripping” of the sauce with robo!Ortho.
The smaller dollop of blue frosting is Ortho’s fiery blue hair. He’s smaller and younger than Idia, so the flames do not consume the entire cupcake. (Alternatively, this could also be the fire-shaped bottle that serves as phantom!Ortho’s head.)
Under the frosting is a cookie and a thin ring which resembles the ring of glowing triangles that appears around robo!Ortho’s neck. A similar pattern appears around the neck of phantom!Ortho.
This cupcake’s cake is a lighter color than Idia’s cake. It also has a larger variety in the sprinkle colors, maybe as a nod to Ortho’s cheerier and more hopeful personality compared to Idia’s gloomier and pessimistic one.
Diasomnia
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The Diasomnia cupcake liners are black with a green briar pattern.
Each student’s name is piped in chocolate, with the third years in white and the underclassmen in what seems to be milk chocolate.
The cupcakes seem to be malformed or sort of puffy like Kalim’s is. I wonder if that means Lilia roped all of his kids to bake with him as a bonding exercise www
Malleus
Malleus’s cupcake goes from Diasomnia green to black (the royal color of the Draconia bloodline), symbolizing the eventual transition he must make from student to king of his country.
The frosting on top is the same colors as he night sky sprinkled with silver stars. Malleus likes to take solitary strolls under the cover of night, so this suits him.
Malleus wouldn’t be Hornton/Tsunotaro without the horns! Of course we’ve gotta include a chocolate version of his iconic horns.
Extra frosting in a bright green; these are meant to be Malleus’s apocalyptic green fire that he spouts.
There’s a purple grape cut into two (I’m sure Rollo would be furious/j) to reveal the green insides. How curious! These colors are also considered accent colors for Maleficent. Another nice detail about the grapes is that the veining of the flesh makes the insides resemble reptilian eyes—like those of a dragon.
Lilia
The frosting is black for Lilia’s hair and has magenta (berry?) sauce to reflect his hair streaks.
Lots of berries (Lilia loves his berry juice) and irregular pink sprinkles or candy shards. It’s cute, punky, and whimsical, just like he is.
Chocolate bats for the bats that swarm Lilia in many animations. He’s also shown taking care of a bat in his Dorm Uniform vignettes.
I’ve been trying to figure out what the whole cream is… My best guess is they’re representing Malleus, Sebek, and Silver??? Silver and Sebek are the smaller two dollops since they grew up and trained together + are the most immature of the group. Malleus is the big, textured swirl on the left—he is older and more powerful than Sebek and Silver. This analogy also works when you consider that these three sit upon Lilia (the cupcake), who is the oldest and serves as the father figure and foundation for their dorm to get along with each other and with others.
I don’t know what that ahoge-like thing is supposed to be or mean—
Silver
His cupcake goes from a deep blonde/yellowish brown to silver. This reflects his hair color change following Lilia’s blessing.
Silver’s cupcake has a very dreamy and cloud-like quality to it because of the abundance of pastel-colored cream. The top of the frosting even droops over, sort of like a head dropping in sleep.
Crushed bits of an aurora-colored candy are sprinkled over the cake. They’re the same color as his eyes, as well as the ring gifted to him by his parents.
Two birds and some mint (?) leaves make up the colors of the Three Good Fairies (Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather). They also speak to Silver’s familiarity with the forest creatures.
Sebek
The pastel green frosting for Sebek’s cupcakes is sloped, and it is the only one styled this way. It may represent his lopsidedly views and understanding of the world, as he is easily one of the most rigid thinking within his dorm.
Many different things are sprinkles on the cupcake; it looks like someone threw them on thinking they would look cool with very little thought or planning. It fits how brazen Sebek is and also (funnily enough) matches his struggle with the arts.
Sebek is the only student with triangular sprinkles; is this meant to look like scales?? Or maybe particles of lighting?
There’s a massive chocolate lightning bolt topping off the cupcake. Nothing subtle or tactful about it, much like Sebek’s personality and voice.
There are two pieces of sliced grape to mimic Malleus’s cupcake. Interestingly, the grape halves seem to come from entirely different kinds of grapes: one green (unlike Malleus’s), the other red (like Malleus’s). Assuming the red half (which Malleus has two of) implies fae heritage (Malleus is full fae), then the green half is one’s human heritage. The grapes, then, denote Sebek being of half fae, half human descent.
Extra
Grim
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He has a unique black and white vertically striped cupcake liner to represent Ramshackle dorm!
Grim’s name is written on a cookie that looks like a puffy manga text box. Makes sense, he’s usually being the mouth piece for Yuu when they don’t get dialogue options or even when they do.
Seems to be covered in sanding sugar to achieve the fuzzy texture of fur!
Little wafer (?) shaped like Grim’s tail! And cookies (?) iced to resemble his ears! Two paw prints 🥺 to match Grim’s toe beans… The cupcake truly is made in his image!!
The white shell border is probably a stand-in for the white tuft of fur that Grim has.
193 notes · View notes
hanasnx · 2 months
Text
❝ incendium. ❞
── stephen glass x reader
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MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 3.3k SUMMARY: when a lie snowballs out of stephen's control, you swoop in for unorthodox damage control. NOTES: sorry i posted with the wrong title at first | wrote most of this over a year ago, so the style is a bit different, but stick with it trust me | if you say "part two" in the comments, you better come into my inbox with an actual plot or idea that will fit this "au" WARNINGS: f!reader | editor-in-chief!reader | suggestive content including sex and porn mentions so no minors still cos i dont want them on my page ever | deceit | inappropriate contracts.
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When you’re the Editor-in-Chief for the biggest magazine of the year, you’ll have a couple thousand rumors spread about you. You wouldn’t pretend that its source wasn’t jealousy that drove poor opinions of you to circle the sandbox. It’s child’s play really, the way sparks of lies catch ablaze to spread like a dry forest’s fire. You’ve always imagined the end of the world to begin and end with a great flood— it was a blue planet after all. With that comforting metaphor, a measly incendium left you unbothered. 
You didn’t have a free moment in your schedule, and it had been like that for months. Being in charge meant shouldering the work of the workers underneath you, and it often meant taking some home with you— work, not workers. Speaking of which, you’d wish you’d find somebody decent to take home. Unfortunately, a relationship really didn’t fit into your hectic calendar. 
It was nice to have a personal assistant. She took care of the unimportant things for you, while you got to work on time and started on your bulleted list in order of priority. Said assistant, Maddy, sat at a desk outside your office, and when she entered to drop off your coffee she picked up, you seized the opportunity to inquire her knowledge on number one on your list. 
Maddy hummed questioningly as you waited, blinking at her over your reading glasses. “Oh!” She clapped her hands together once her memory was jogged. “The New Republic ran something a little detrimental to our brand. Our CEO’s legal team reached out to me to ask you to handle it before they had to step in. The last thing they want is a lawsuit—“ she rambled on and you held up your hand, quieting her. Upturning your palm to invite her to hand you TNR’s piece that supposedly mentioned this company. 
Maddy read your mind, spryly collecting the paper to place in your possession. 
It took seconds for you to scan it, creasing your brows in response to its misinformation. Maddy studied your reaction to its error. For you, this was not a matter of opinion, it was a matter of fact, and required your addressment. 
“Get Chuck on the phone, I want his earliest appointment.”
STEPHEN GLASS moistened his lips as he furiously typed up his latest story, anxious to meet the deadline with a particularly difficult article. His coworker Caitlyn swung in by his door frame. “Yo, Steve, Amy and I wanted to head to the bar after work today. You free?” Caitlyn had figured out the best way to ask him if he wanted to hang out was to put as little pressure on it as possible. He reminded her of a chihuahua…consistently shaken. 
Stephen glanced her way but continued typing. “Yeah? Got it… maybe…” he drawled dreamily, and she concluded he wasn’t entirely listening. 
Inviting herself inside, she slumped into one of his cold, blue, faux leather chairs. “What are you working on anyway?” 
“The Gainsmen piece. I was supposed to have it done already but it got buried.” he responded, eyes glued to the screen as if hypnotized. His hand blindly fumbled for his pen off to the side, like a good friend Caitlyn leaned over to slide the utensil into his fingertips. He banged the end of it against the meat of his thigh, revealing the ink tip so he could scribble some sort of note on his pad, all without ripping his pupils off the growing lines on the monitor. His coworker had never seen him so… intense. To free up his other hand for efficient typing he tucked the staff of the pen in between his lips. 
Stephen had the power to make her worry for him. From what she observed, he was overworked, and spent more time here than he ever did at home when he should be resting. That reasoning eased her into her next question, “You want me to help?” 
A sudden shift in his demeanor, his full attention on her for the first time since she entered his office, raising his brows with a hopeful glint in his dilated pupils. He pinched the pen in his knuckles, balancing the end of it against the corner of his mouth. “Would you?” His disbelief was adorably naive, as if surprised he’d ever receive help… if he deserved it. A smile tugged at Cait’s lips when she nodded, parting them to respond when a slam of a door tore both of their attentions away. 
It was you, the notorious editor of their largest competitor. It had silenced the entire floor, quiet enough to hear your heels click on the thin carpet, and Stephen’s pen drop onto his keyboard. Cait glanced at him as he scrambled to catch it in a failed attempt to prevent its further clattering against the keys. 
Every pair of eyes was on you as you cut through the stations. Your mere presence froze those around you, as if afraid to do something wrong and offend you in some way. At least, some of them anyway. Stephen always thought it was because of how stunning you were. Bone-chillingly authoritative in stockings and a pencil skirt. Behind his glasses his pupils dilated as they scanned from bottom to top, watching you walk further from him through the glass of his office. He gulped, thoughtlessly leaning in his seat to consume every angle of you his limited view from his desk would allow. Caitlyn had faced him again just in time to catch him in the act, and he settled back into his chair as if he hadn’t moved at all. She resisted the urge to flash him a quizzical look as he sheepishly watched himself fiddle with his pen in his lap. 
You did not waver your gaze from your goal, and Chuck had been expecting you. He wore the warmest smile he could muster as he opened his door for you, a headache having come on from the call he received earlier, announcing your scheduled arrival. “Miss (l/n),” he greeted with a nod, and you returned the greeting as he closed the door behind you. The frosted windows left a lot to the imagination of the employees on this floor. Everyone wordlessly agreed to remain reticent in order to eavesdrop on any juicy tidbit they could claw their sleep-deprived hands onto. Not only that, but as if enslaved to their subconscious desires, they shifted closer, gravitating towards Chuck’s office, crudely concealing the way they inclined their ears. 
Stephen’s hands clammed up, and he dropped the pen in between his legs so he could wipe his palms on his pants. He had a feeling he knew what you were here for. 
The conversation inside was indecipherable to the surrounding throng, except for one fragment at the resolution, resounding through the room, causing prying eyes to desperately study your blurred figures in hopes to interpret what kind of violent gestures you punctuated your threat with. 
“I will not be trifled with. My magazine did not tank my first year, it was the year before I was brought on board.” Able to see your arm raise, clutching a fluttering page, and slam it down onto Chuck’s desk. “When I came on I saved that establishment. I’m sick of reading about how the last Editor’s fault was mine! I expected more from The New Republic.” You had straightened. “Let a simple fact like this go unchecked in the future and I’ll poach you. Understand?” 
It was impossible to tell whether or not you waited for Chuck’s response before storming out. Stephen still thought you were as elegant as ever, observing you as you strode to the exit. He had suspected why you were here, and what you said at Chuck’s had confirmed it. You had nipped Chuck for signing off on Stephen’s piece. His mouth ran dry when your gaze landed on him. You didn’t recognize him as the man who wrote what you had come to pontificate on. Instead, you saw a boy in glasses, gawking at you from the seat of his desk as you happened to face him and accidentally make eye contact. 
Stephen had no idea you didn’t know who he was, and that assumption caused him to raise his hand at you to offer you a polite smile and a wave. You acknowledged it to be proper, unfaltering in your traipse. Just as soon as you’d left, the floor reignited, bustling and trucking through paperwork as if you’d never appeared. 
Caitlyn, unaware of Stephen’s current situation, had stood from the chair, and leaned against the back of it as she collected her thoughts, narrowing her eyes at Stephen. “What was that?” she inquired slyly, curious as to why Stephen had greeted you so familiarly. According to Cait’s knowledge, you and Stephen have never formally met, and you weren’t exactly the most accessible person to befriend. Casually greeting you was simply not done, unless it was a peer like Chuck. 
Stephen had returned to his monitor, nervously tapping the pen against the desk surface as the gears in his head turned. “What? You mean the wave?” he affirmed with a smile tugging at his lips, about to tell her the truth of why he did it. 
When you re-entered his mind, he idled, reminiscing on your outfit today. How your hips swayed in your smart pencil skirt, the lines of your stockings at the backs of your legs, the tasteful blouse and how it accentuated your exquisite outline. As a writer, Stephen admired your professional work. As an artist, he agonizingly wished he knew you— inside and out. When Caitlyn demanded an answer, Stephen looked up at her with a bashful snicker. “I mean… okay, alright,” He clasped his hands together, reminding himself how sweaty they were. 
“Go on, Steph, I’m waiting,” Cait said in a playful tone, eager to hear the gossip she knew he would inevitably spill. Her favorite source of entertainment was Stephen: the human embodiment of the overflowing cup. 
He longed to do just that, hanging his head briefly before feigning defeat. “We kissed.” he conceded as if it was reluctantly drawn from him rather than readily supplied as soon as it was conjured. He didn’t know why he said that, it just slipped out.
“Hey, Stephen,” Amy peeked her head in, seemingly oblivious of the nature of the conversation he and Caitlyn just shared, evidenced by Amy’s immediate interest in Cait’s gaping mouth, readjusting against the door frame. “Wait, wait, what did you say? What did I miss?” 
Cait flashed a look at Stephen as if to ask permission to repeat what he’d just spread. Stephen merely smiled childishly, and pinched his fingers together at the corner of his mouth, running across his lips pretending to zip them. Caitlyn got the message, nodding, and mimicking him. 
Amy sighed in playful annoyance, which only caused the other two to grin knowingly. “Whatever. Stephen, Chuck wants to see you in his office.” 
One more quizzical look from Cait, and he reassured her, “It’s probably nothing,” He met Amy’s gaze, “Tell him I’ll be right there, Ames.” 
We kissed. He’d said. We kissed. A lie he couldn’t stop pondering, and it snowballed into expansion. At first it was an innocent kiss, as virtuous as a young white flower. When it was received with such shock and entertainment, Stephen couldn’t help himself. A kiss became a heated make-out session at a company Christmas party he snuck into. A make-out became a regular occurrence when you just couldn’t stay away from him. A regular occurrence became seeing each other. Became experimental oral. 
All until it became dirty fucking on the side using your power as an Editor over him. “What am I gonna do? Say ‘no’ to her? No,” Stephen shook his head and sipped his Colombian coffee from the slit in its lid. “No,” he swallowed, “not to an Editor-in-Chief.” His regaling earned him pats on the back and laughter from those taking it as a joke. No one thought he was in any real danger. It’s not like he worked underneath her— in an employment stance. 
He couldn’t give it up. Cooking was one thing, but earning the respect of those around all because a woman made of ice was supposedly wrapped around his finger was another high entirely. One he couldn’t give up, no matter how immoral. He admired you— immeasurably— and still he let those words run out of his mouth faster than he could stuff them back in. Filthy secrets about what you’re like in bed, how rough you like it, what position is your favorite. It’s not like he could reveal those details without unveiling a little of himself and his fantasies as well. 
He never expected that it’d turn out like this. 
Never expected he’d be summoned to your office. 
“Miss—“ Maddy’s clear voice rings in your ear, interrupting you during your process of scratching your notes into the margin of the text. 
You sigh. “Madeline, if you’re here about Frank’s paternal leave again I’ll be forced to fire that baby myself.” 
She stutters, caught off guard by your sour attitude and poorly-timed joke. “No, Miss, I’m here to announce Mr. Glass’s arrival. I made him wait a few minutes- like you asked.” 
You peer up from your work at Maddy who’s in a straight-and-narrow posture by the door as you gesture incredulously with your hand. “Go ahead, send him in.” She nods, and hastily abides by your notion, fetching him. 
This time you don’t redirect your eyes from your thick pile of papers as you annotate, the nervous footsteps of your anticipated company echoing through your cavernous office. He follows the rug across the long pathway to the chair in front of your desk, taking a seat, and the leather creaks against itself. 
He takes notice of your strategic reticence. “Hi.” his wavering voice is a near whisper. Your script comes to a screeching halt. 
“Mr. Glass,” you reply, “you are a man-in-demand, aren’t you?” You swipe a page to the left, noting at the top right to bookmark it. 
Sheepish, Stephen stutters in his response, lips curled politely up, “I- I suppose so. I suppose I wouldn’t know.” To keep him nervous, you hum, and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Every movement, no matter how minute, creates the leather din that damn-near echoes in your resonate office-space. He waits for you to speak, and when it becomes unbearable he fills the silence. “Is this about your talk with Chuck– er, Charles Lane? Because- about that, if you just listen–” 
At that, your eyes finally flicker up to meet his. “No, Mr. Glass, it is not.” He swallows. It’s becoming increasingly clear why you’re known as cold. It’s an unforgivable atmosphere, and a shiver runs up his spine powerful enough that he takes his hand to rub his own arm to generate warmth. You stand, and he presses his lips into a thin line, watching your every move as you gracefully close the script on your desk with a rare finesse. “You’ve brought a lot of attention to my door, you know that?” Strategically, Stephen remains silent as you leisurely round your desk. His hands begin to clam up again, and he rubs them on his thighs as he stares hard at his lap. A whole new level of intimidation has been reached being this close to you at the center of your focus. He’s unsure how to play this right now, and he finally registers your proximity when out of the corner of his eye he sees you sit on the edge of your desk adjacent to him. Your smooth legs are crossed within arm’s length of him. You fold your arms over your chest, your unwavering gaze making him feel smaller and smaller. Regardless of that, you can tell he’s not going to break. So you increase the pressure. “Have we met before?”
Big, innocent eyes peer up at you, hesitant to face you as he shakes his head marginally. The instinct to question if you’re mad at him dies in his throat. “No, ma’am.” The panic rises in his chest now that he’s denied having met you aloud, but you can’t possibly know about the lies he’s told, can’t prove he told them. Yet when he meets that piercing gaze, there’s a part of him that wants to come clean to you about everything if it means pleasing you. Though there is his job to think about, what would people say about a writer who lies about sexual encounters with the company’s competitor? It can’t be good.
“Is that a fact?” You raise your brows at him, and he nods slowly. “So, can you tell me why others have a different perception on that?”
He shakes his head.
“Mr. Glass, as frustrating as this all has become, you’re not here so I can berate you.” you concede, and at those words he visibly perks up. You reach over, plucking a folder from across your desk that stretches your body out in a specific way that rides your skirt up. Before he knows it, he’s sneaking a glance at the exposed skin of your thigh, how the flesh pushes together. The promiscuous rumors he’s spread about you and his own animal attraction to you has gone to his head because in that very moment he considers how warm and tepid your thighs must be against his ears. His salivating tongue rolls between his lips. He morphs into the posture of a goddamn saint as soon as you slam the folder onto the surface in front of him, he jolts right into it from the sudden noise, as if a chastising ruler had just struck his naughty hands. “I’m prepared to make you an offer.”
“What is this?” The shiny material of the folder falls open, and he inclines forward to read the cover of the thick stack of papers within it.
“An NDR.”
“An NDR? For what?” Stephen plays dumb, but you naturally would assume he’d know nothing about what this deal entails. You give him a silent moment to scan it. Uneasily, as if he’s reading it wrong, he relays the synopsis of one of the passages. “You want… you want to have…”
“Sex.” you reply casually. “You have heard of it?” you joke. “You paint our encounters so colorfully in your little stories, I assumed you were far from a virgin. Or at least well-versed in porn.”
Stephen can feel his throat closing up, shifting in his seat as he engages with you, his mouth in a permanent gaping position, looking for an opportunity to get a word in. “No, no.” He shakes his head, gesturing to himself at his chest. “You don’t understand, I don’t know what you’re talking about- honest!”
“Mr. Glass.” you chide with a playful curl to your lips. Your hands grip the edges of the wood, leaning towards him as if you’re exchanging coy secrets. “Don’t be modest, you’d make a killing in the fictional industry. Whatever are you doing at The New Republic?”
He rallies, sharply inhaling through his nose. “Let me just get out of your hair, and we can forget this whole thing happened—” he pleads, and in an effort to remove himself from the confrontation, he rises from his seat. Your hand gives him a firm push at his chest, planting his ass right back where it belongs.
“Mr. Glass, by all means I’m not keeping you here against your will, but need I remind you: I am not to be trifled with. Forgive me for being indelicate, but why not have the real thing?”
A second of silence passes, and Stephen gulps. You stand, and return to your chair behind your desk. “Think about it.” you tell him, and he takes it as his cue to leave, hastily gathering himself to stride towards the exit. 
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psychedelic-ink · 1 year
Text
𝑯𝑰𝑮𝑯 𝑬𝑵𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯
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pairing: dieter bravo x actress!reader x bodyguard!joel miller
genre: super duper explicit smut, actress & bodyguard au, minors dni
word count: 4.5k
summary: an afterparty, weed, drinks, a grumpy bodyguard, and an eccentric actor. What can go wrong?
warnings: mlm dynamics, threesome, blossoming feelings, messy two-person blowjob, piv, polyamorous, dieter has a praise kink, hair pulling, bdsm dynamics, high sex, getting high, this is an au where sarah was never conceived sorry, petnames all around (good boy/girl, sweetheart, darlin, honey), guidance kink, handjob, implied age gap reader being the youngest and joel being the oldest
a/n: you voted and here it is! This can be considered as a continuation of the drabble I wrote but you don't need to read that in order to read this. It just takes place in the same universe. enjoy! If you want to see more adventures of bodyguard!joel and actress!reader feel free to send requests xx
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Joel is a grump. 
He knows this. Everyone does. He’s been called many things before in this industry: unkind, an asshole, a fucker, a bummer, a grumpy old man. But despite all the negative feedback, he’s never been out of a job. When it comes to feeling safe and secure, everyone realizes that pleasantries aren't really a priority. After a while, he learned to let those remarks bounce off of him. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy having fun; it’s the fact that this industry is riddled with slimy, untrustworthy characters. You could be happily sharing a drink one moment, and the next you could find your drunken words being sold off to the highest bidder. He has a lot of stories, some of which he wishes he could forget about.
However, he's not a kid. Far from it, actually. So he also knows that not everyone fits the bill of assholery. He's met some nice people, worked for them, and thanks to those nice people, he met you— one of the biggest rising stars of your generation. You're actually quite kind— albeit a bit of a brat, but he's starting to realize that side of you might be reserved only for him. Most impressively, you've managed to knit yourself a loving, supportive circle. He met your family once and has a sneaking suspicion they had something to do with your good manners.
Family. He misses his. Tommy still lived in Austin, running a not-so-shabby bar. 
Joel used to pride himself on not getting involved in his clients' affairs, but with you, that proved difficult.
A sea of people crashes into him, pushing him in the opposite direction of where he's trying to go. These Hollywood parties, they're always the same - loud music, annoying lights, and foaming glitter always coming from somewhere. He catches a whiff of champagne and strawberries. Rolling his eyes, he helps a director he barely knows who stumbles and nearly collapses on the shiny marble floors. With one swift motion, he grips her torso and lifts her back up. She slurs a drunken thank you and moseys off.
He hates it when you drag him to parties, and he hates it even more when you disappear. By some miracle, he spots you sitting down within the awfully lit room. You're wearing a mermaid-style dress (at least, that's what you told him prior to the event), which hugs your curves in all the right places. The fabric is covered in pearls, giving it a shimmering, iridescent quality that catches the light and reflects it into his eyes - thank fucking god, or else he suspects he'd never find you in this crowd.
His relief in finding you is short-lived when he sees who you’re sitting with. 
Fucking Dieter Bravo. 
You know he doesn’t like the man. Of course, you would sit with him just to spite Joel. That’s what he hopes this is anyway, he’s praying to every god he can think of (which isn’t many) that this isn’t a blooming friendship, or something else. He doesn’t think he can handle seeing that man more than he has to. 
Ironically, Joel actually used to work with Dieter. It only lasted for about a week as Dieter was just too unpredictable and chaotic for him. A complete hedonist who was used to getting what he wants. Before Joel could resign, Dieter had fired him. Which was good, because Joel wasn’t sure if he would’ve actually gone and done it. 
Joel feels a mixture of excitement and anxiety as your entire face lights up upon seeing him. With an open smile, you wave frantically and point to the couch across from the two of you. It's a tight fit, and his knees brush against both yours and Dieter's as he sits. The actor is holding a joint loosely between his fingers, looking up to Joel and nodding in a way that resembles an informal greeting. Joel notices the vibrant pattern of his button-up, the chain around his neck, and the rings on his fingers. Dieter takes a drag then offers it to you. Your gaze briefly meets Joel's before you take it from him. However, you don't immediately bring it to your lips.
“Where were you?” Joel asks loudly, trying to get his words over the sound of the music. “You can’t bring me to these things and then just disappear on me.” 
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” you answer with an apologetic smile. Joel narrows his eyes and you bring the neatly rolled joint to your glossy lips. You take a deep, long inhale. He watches the way your body seems to melt unconsciously. You close your eyes. “I just saw Dee and you know his habit of disappearing as soon as you blink. Had to pounce him before that happened.” 
Joel’s eyes drop to where Dieter slides an arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his eyes fixed on Joel. Your eyes flutter open and much to Joel’s surprise, you extend the joint to him. 
“Don’t bother, sweetheart,” Dieter says, his lips too close to your cheek. Joel bristles unknowingly. “He has a stick up his ass.” 
“Dieter!” you hiss, glaring daggers. “Behave.” 
“I don’t smoke on the job.” Joel says, a bit smugly and enjoying the other man’s prominent pout. “Unlike some, I’m a professional.” 
Dieter scoffs. The joint still lingers between your fingers, your gaze snapping to Joel. You accusatorily point at him, your brows drawn together. “And you—” you warn. “Don’t act so high and mighty. You’re off the clock remember? I invited you here so you would loosen up a little.” 
What? 
“What?” he blinks rapidly. “Why on earth would I need loosenin’ up? And why would I want to loosen up with you lot? This ain’t exactly my scene honey.” 
“Because we’re friends, smartass.” you chide. The burnt tip of the cigarette is now closer to your fingers. With a sigh, Joel finally takes it, which provokes a burst of laughter from Dieter. 
“She has you on a leash!” Dieter points out, fingers digging into your hip and moving over the pearls. “That’s fucking adorable.” 
Joel grunts, “Shut up.” he takes the joint clumsily, holding it up to his lips. It’s been a while since he’s done this. When he does he usually prefers the privacy of his own home. Joel ignores the way your eyes are fixed on him, two wide eager eyes eating him up from head to toe. 
He takes a deep inhale, his lungs expanding with smoke. Joel can taste the champagne you left behind. Goosebumps rise over his skin, a tingle, and a buzz making him groan. He allows the smoke to linger inside him, then, without parting from the joint much, he exhales. It’s very subtle, but he notices both you and Dieter taking deep breaths, filling yourselves with his breath. He’s amused. His lips twitch as he takes another drag. Then he extends it back to Dieter. The actor doesn’t waste much time and wraps his lips around the butt of the joint deliberately slow. Joel fights the urge to roll his eyes. Dieter takes a deep breath, exhaling cannabis in a way that the smoke doesn’t move forward, it pours from between his lips, like a dragon’s mouth. 
Joel doesn’t think much of it, now feeling more relaxed than ever, he says, “You look surprisingly cleaned up. They groomed you well.” 
“Does it look like I care what you think?” Dieter snaps back, and Joel frowns. 
“I think the word you’re looking for is thank you,” you say, words directed at Dieter. Your eyes flit between the two tense men. “Also I'm starting to think you two have some history together.” 
“Didn’t your knight in shining armor tell you?” Dieter grins, rather smug. “He used to work for me.” 
You turn to Joel, brows pinched together with confusion. “You did?” 
Joel rolls his eyes, ignoring the way his cheeks heat up under your gaze. “It was a long time ago.” 
“I fired him.” 
“How come?” 
“Too distracting.” 
Joel breathes a little too fast, the air catching in his throat. He clears his throat, his veins alive with tension. It almost feels like it’s the only three of them now. The rest of the room fading and turning black. Joel leans forward, the already tight space becoming even tighter. 
“Excuse me?” Joel asks, his speech slurred. “What do you mean “too distractin’”?” 
Neither of them answers you. Actors, he thinking begrudgingly, a puff of air parting his lips. Dieter brings the joint to your lips and without taking it from him, you look at Joel. He watches as your lips brush against the length of Dieter’s fingers. Annoyance brews in his stomach. 
“Is he like this with you too? Oblivious?” Dieter asks you. You grin, teeth shining under the dim lights and you nod. The actor’s tongue pokes out from between his lips and swipes over his bottom lip. “Poor baby.” 
“You two are startin’ to get on my nerves,” Joel grumbles, crossing his arms across his broad chest. 
You stick your tongue out and Joel has half the urge to grab it between his fingers and teach you a lesson. He hadn’t noticed, but the joint had made its way back to him. Slightly confused and disoriented, he finishes it off. The last bit of it burning his throat and lungs. He’s incredibly flustered, heat crawling up from his chest to his cheeks. He doesn’t miss the way you and Dieter steal glances at each other, smiling giddily. 
Finally, you find Joel’s gaze, a Cheshire-cat like grin plastered on your face—he’s slightly creeped out by it actually. 
“How about we show you what we mean?” 
Joel should’ve said no. This is the last time he’s ever coming to one of these damn parties. 
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Joel wasn’t thinking much when Dieter led all of you to one of the many bedrooms in the residence. Your hand was clutched tightly around his, and per instinct, he had held on to you just as tight. And as soon as the three of them entered the stupidly large bedroom with an equally stupidly large bed, he found himself sitting on the edge with his pants down. The two actors knelt between his legs, eyes hungry and mouths flooded. 
He has to admit, it’s a rather enticing view. 
Dieter wraps his fingers around the base while you kiss the inside of Joel’s thigh. Heat settles at the base of his spine, his cock twitching and growing thanks to Dieter’s slow strokes. You drag your lips up, kissing his shaft before swirling your tongue around the head. A strangled moan leaves him. Joel’s gaze drops, only to see Dieter staring back at him. He holds his breath as the other grins from one ear to the other. 
“You like that?” he coos, darting his tongue out. He licks a clean stripe up, the curve of his nose brushing against yours. “God, the number of times I came in my pants thinking about this. . .” 
Joel’s quick to follow up, “You thought about this?” 
Your sudden bubble of laughter makes him frown. His lips become a tight line, his teeth clenched as he grinds the molars together. He watches as you ignore him and pull away. You cradle Dieter’s cheek, and as if he read your mind, the actor leans in, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. Joel tenses. His skin taut over muscle. His cock stands with attention, beads of precum rolling down his length. The thought of his taste lingering on your tongue, being passed to Dieter—his chest heaves, maybe he is too old for this. 
He sees Dieter shoving his tongue between your lips and you moan into his mouth, Dieter swallows the noises you make eagerly. Joel is surprised he’s not feeling any jealousy or protectiveness. Usually, when the actor attempts to make passes at you he puffs up like a rooster. But not his time. Dieter cups your face with two hands, tilting your head so he can kiss you deeper. Only then it dawns on Joel that the reason he was bothered before wasn’t that he hated the actor—though he still found him annoying—but because he wanted to be included. He almost laughs. Loneliness truly is a bitch. His fingers twitch and he makes a move to cup himself, he pouts when his hand is batted away by no one other than you. 
“No,” you say wetly with swollen lips. “We’re going to take care of you. Isn’t that right, Dee?” the second half of the sentence is directed at the actor who looks just as debauched. But he manages to nod anyway. Then your gaze moves back up to Joel. “Okay?” 
He’s lost for words for a brief moment, mouth opening and closing before he can find his speech again. “Okay.” 
It’s messy. Debauched. Downright sinful. And Joel is ninety percent sure this is all a dream and his alarm is about to burst through the speaker of his phone. Dieter purses his lips and spits into his palm, coating Joel’s shaft with a generous amount. You kiss the head and swallow him halfway, your nostrils flaring as you try to take more of him. Joel’s hand lifts to comfort you but Dieter beats him to it. The actor leans into your ear, smiling slyly. He pulls down the straps of your dress and exposes your breasts. Joel’s mouth feels dry all of a sudden. 
“That’s it, sweetheart. You’re doing so well,” Dieter purrs, Joel can barely hear him. “Just breathe through your nose, don’t rush it. He’s a big boy, isn’t he? Flatten your tongue and swallow. That’s it. . .” Joel’s arms buckle as you do what you’re told, his eyes rolling back. Dieter kisses your cheek and kneads your breasts, thumbs wiping over the pebbled nipples. “You’re making him so happy right now. Such a talented girl.” 
“Oh, fuck,” Joel groans, slightly thrusting into your mouth. Dieter meets his gaze and winks, a wide grin spread across his handsome face. 
Handsome. Joel finds Dieter handsome, always has. Though he always assumed he found him handsome in a more general way, the same way he found Oscar Isaac handsome. Some people just are. But he’s starting to think he might like the infuriating actor a bit more than he thought. Or maybe it’s just from the heat of the moment and the weed still buzzing in his veins. Regardless, he’s enjoying the view very much. God, what has he gotten himself into? 
You swirl your tongue and hollow your cheeks. More praise drips from Dieter’s lips. Without thinking much of it, Joel reaches out and touches the side of Dieter’s face. The actor stills for a moment, brows furrowing, a delicious shade of red coloring his cheeks. Joel drags the pad of his thumb down Dieter’s cheek and then cups him tenderly. 
“Good boy,” Joel says before his filter kicks in. “You’re doin’ so well too.” 
Dieter’s face is priceless. He’s stunned into silence, eyes wide and round, lips parted. A low chuckle trembles within Joel’s chest, he continues to trace his thumb up and down the contours of his cheek. Dieter leans into the touch ever so slightly, eyelids fluttering. You must notice the change in the air because you pull away and drag a pointed tongue down Joel’s length. Then you grip Dieter’s chin and guide him down. 
“Have a taste, Dee.”
Joel watches with bated breath as you guide Dieter down towards his aching member. The actor's lips part and his breath hitches as he takes in the sight before him. He looks up at Joel, his eyes dark, before finally taking him in his mouth, tongue swirling and lips tight. The actor's eyes never leave Joel's as he bobs his head, taking more and more of him into his mouth. Joel’s legs shake, his lungs expand, it feels too much, everything tumbling onto him like an avalanche. 
Joel's head falls back, his eyes closing as he feels the warmth of Dieter's mouth. He can hear the wet sounds of his mouth moving over him, the way his lips slide up and down his length, and he can't help but let out a low moan.
You reach out and grab Joel's hand, entwining your fingers. Your touch electric. Leaning over you capture Joel's lips with your own. He moans into your mouth, the pleasure almost too much to bear.
Dieter pulls back, a thin line of saliva connecting his lips to Joel's length. He looks up at Joel with a wicked grin, before taking him back into his mouth. Parting away from you, Joel groans, hips bucking up involuntarily. But when he sees Dieter grinding into his palm, his cock hard and aching under his pants, Joel tugs on his hair, fucking his mouth with shallow strokes. 
Joel’s eyes go wide when the other man chokes, the sound of it equivalent to someone raking their nails over his body. His stomach flips. Something raw and visceral awakening inside him. He thrusts deeper, the head going down the other’s throat. Dieter chokes again and Joel moans, loudly. His heart beating too fast. 
With the corner of his eyes, Joel watches your movements with a parted mouth. You dip lower and drag your lips up his shaft, your mouth meeting Dieter’s. You both mouth at him simultaneously, your tongues dancing. Joel fists the sheets. His eyes fixed where his cock disappears and reappears between their lips. The two moan at the same time, the reverberations seeping into the sensitive skin of his cock and making him shudder. His muscles grow taut. Precum heavily coating both of their lips. Dieter dips his tongue into the slit groaning at the taste, and you unbutton the actor’s pants, sliding your hand under his boxer briefs. 
“Oh god,” Joel swallows thickly, his voice hoarse. “I’m gonna come—” he can feel his body tensing, his breaths coming in short gasps as he gets closer and closer.
You pull away and Dieter follows. Instinctively, Joel pulls at Dieter’s hair, willing the other back to his cock. His cock twitches when Dieter’s eyes roll back at the blossoming pain. You climb up the bed, cradling Joel’s face before slipping his tongue into his mouth. It’s a quick one but leaves him breathless nonetheless. 
“I want you to fuck me,” you mutter, lips moving over his beard. “Will you, please?” 
Joel helps you up to your feet, his hands still shaking slightly as he pushes down your dress, finishing what Dieter had started. He dips down, sucking a nipple into his mouth. His cock drips at the way you moan for him. Dieter stands behind him, his fingers trailing down the center of Joel's back as he helps him out of his shirt. 
You reach for Dieter's pants, feeling the heat rising in your chest as you gaze into his eyes. He watches you intently, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. You slide the zipper down slowly, your fingers brushing against the growing bulge in his boxer briefs. 
Joel steps back, allowing you to guide Dieter towards the bed. He climbs up first, propping himself up against the headboard, his eyes fixed on the scene unfolding in front of him. You kneel on the bed beside Dieter, your fingers reaching for the waistband of his underwear. You tug them down slowly, revealing his cock, already hard and throbbing. 
Joel's breath catches in his throat as he watches you take Dieter's cock into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head before sliding down the shaft. Then you pull away from him with a pop and lay down next to him, your head resting on his hip. Dieter’s hands smooth down your body, spreading your thighs. He holds Joel’s gaze as the older man’s mouth suddenly feels dry at the sight of you. 
Joel moves between your legs, his fingers tracing over your slick folds, making you moan softly. He positions himself at your entrance, his eyes locked onto yours as he slowly pushes inside you. He can feel you getting wetter with every inch. You claw at Dieter’s bicep and he shushes you, one hand moving to the swell of your breasts and holding it gingerly. The small hairs across Joel’s body stand up when you let out a sharp whimper. 
“Dieter,” you whine, eyes glossy. “H-He feels so good.” 
God, you’re shaking around him, your pretty pussy squeezing him. Joel grunts. 
“I bet he does,” Dieter murmurs, eyes looking at where you and Joel connect. He’s only halfway in. “Want me to play with your pretty clit, baby? You’re taking him so well.” 
You nod quickly and Dieter doesn’t make you repeat yourself. Joel swallows. Dieter begins to draw quick, tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasp, your lips barely touching Dieter’s shaft. Joel feels you clenching around him, walls fluttering thanks to the actor. Dieter makes a point of brushing the tips of his fingers while attending to your need, and every time Joel feels it, his cock throbs. He buries himself deep inside you, forcing the air from your lungs. Your back arches beautifully, your nails leaving crescent moon-shaped marks into Dieter’s skin. 
Joel's breathing is ragged, his eyes locked onto yours as he pumps into you harder and harder. Your eyes flutter closed. His fingers dig into your hips, anchoring you to the bed as he pounds into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. 
“Hold me,” you cry out, head turning to Dieter. Joel’s thrusts become harder, faster. “Shit—He’s in so deep.” 
Dieter obliges, wrapping his arms around your trembling frame as your body sways back and forth with the strength of Joel’s thrusts. 
“You’re taking him so well, sweetheart,” Dieter groans, his own cock heavy and dark between his legs. “You look so beautiful with him buried between his legs.” suddenly his eyes snap to Joel’s, and the older man falters a bit, his pacing becoming uneven. “Doesn’t she?” he asks him. 
“She does,” Joel grunts out a response. 
You let out a whimper, Joel can feel you convulsing. Your body growing taut and tense, you’re close. Joel’s not that far from it himself, dangling over the edge.  
“She’s such a good girl,” Dieter continues, eyes never leaving Joel’s. “Isn’t she?” 
“Jesus, she is. So fuckin’ good to me. Always.” 
And with that, Joel witnesses your fall from heaven.
He watches with awe as you writhe and convulse around him, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Your body trembles with every pulse of pleasure that courses through you, and your breaths come in short gasps. You arch your back, a low moan escapes your lips, and your body tenses up around Joel's length. Your fingers dig into Dieter’s forearms s as you ride out the waves of ecstasy that ripple through your body. Joel can feel your inner walls squeezing him tightly, and he groans.
Joel can feel your wetness coating his cock, and the slickness only intensifies the pleasure he feels. He continues to thrust into you, his pace quickening as he chases his own release. Somewhere in the distance, he can hear Dieter praising you both, though mostly you, and he shudders. 
Your orgasm starting to subside, he feels your body relaxing against him. He slows his pace, savoring the feeling of your hot, slick walls wrapped tightly around him. He wants to make this last as long as possible, to make you feel every inch of him. However, Joel knows nothing lasts forever. 
He’s right at the edge when he pulls out, spilling over your stomach. His hot breath slides over your skin, his head buried between your breasts. Unthinking, he presses heavy, wet kisses. The tremors of his orgasm slowly fades and Joel realizes that among the three of them, there’s still one person left unsatisfied. 
Joel looks up to Dieter. Despite his cock still being hard, the head an angry shade of red, he looks content with just peppering the top of your head with kisses. But he must’ve sensed the bodyguard staring because Dieter’s eyes meet his. 
“You didn’t come,” Joel states. 
Dieter rolls his eyes, “No shit,” he follows it up with a shrug. “But it’s okay. Seeing you two going at it was satisfying enough.” 
Joel moves his jaw, thinking, contemplating on what to do. Your lids are heavy as your eyes move back and forth. Watching. The older man comes to a decision and peels himself away from you. 
“Can I?” he asks, pointing at Dieter’s dick. The actor flushes. 
“Can you what?” he answers, voice squeaky. 
“Um. . .Jerk you off. It’s only fair.” 
Joel reaches out a hand and tentatively wraps it around Dieter's shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze. Dieter lets out a small moan. His fingers start moving up and down, slowly at first, getting a feel for Dieter's size and shape. Joel has done this with another once or twice before and he can sense his confidence that was already hanging by a thread slowly dissolving. He looks up at Dieter who is already staring at him with half hooded eyes.   
“Is this good?” Joel asks, licking his lips. 
“Fuck yes. I’ll take whatever you give me.” 
Joel’s eyes widen at the admission. He tightens his grip and strokes him faster. Your hand comes up to Dieter’s chest, caressing flushed skin with a smile. You lean closer and kiss his neck, which Dieter hums gratefully. Joel feels the heat emanating from Dieter's body, and the slight tremble in his legs as Joel picks up the pace. 
"Good boy," Joel murmurs, watching as Dieter's eyes close and his mouth falls open. "So well behaved than from what I give him credit for."
Dieter lets out a soft whimper, his hips bucking up into Joel's hand. Joel adjusts his grip, tightening his fingers around Dieter's cock as he works him harder. Dieter drips all over his fingers and he uses it to lubricate his movements.
"You're so hard," Joel whispers, his mouth suddenly feeling incredibly dry. His gaze falls on you with slight envy, a tingle spreading throughout his lips. A desire to lay his lips on the other man and feel his frantic pulse for himself is a strong one, but he swallows it down. "You want to come, don't you?"
Dieter nods frantically, his breathing ragged. Joel can feel his own cock twitching. 
"That's it, let go," Joel encourages, stroking him faster and swiping his palm over the head. "Come for us."
With a loud groan, Dieter's body tenses, and Joel can feel the hot spurt of cum as it lands on his hand and on Dieter's stomach. Joel keeps jerking him through his orgasm, murmuring words of encouragement as Dieter's body shakes with pleasure.
Finally, as Dieter's breathing evens out, Joel releases him, wiping his hand on the bedsheet. Dieter looks up at him with a dazed expression, a small smile on his lips.
"Thanks," he says, his voice hoarse.
Joel exhales a stuttered breath, not really knowing what else to say. "Anytime."
“Awwww,” you chime in giddily which gets on Joel’s nerves. “Look at my two boys getting along.” 
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