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#i was wrong. i was so very wrong. i could be doing this course at a reputable university and instead i’m stressed and in my living room
screampied · 2 days
Note
i’ve never sent a request i hope this makes sense 😭
reader doesnt feel very pretty so suguru fucks reader in front of a mirror + lots of praise
i love love love your work🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽
❤︎ ໋𓈒 geto showing you how pretty you are.
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warnings. fem! reader, mirror sēx, reverse cowgirl, praise, body worship, overstim, talking you through it, mdni. tysm <3
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“. . . ah ah, something’s wrong, isn’t it?” geto hums softly, two soft hands attached to your waist. his touch was always so gentle—you lean back, feeling him bury inside of you before you pause your pace. he brings a kiss towards the crevice of your neck before speaking in a hushed tone. “my baby’s upset.”
“i’m not,” you inhale a sharp breath, and he doesn’t exactly buy it. although, he doesn’t interrupt your saddened words—he allows for you to finish, giving you nothing but his uninvited attention. it’s a long pause before you sigh. “suguru. can i—can i ask you something? be honest.”
he nips another kiss near your neck, moving a hand towards the inner corners of your physique. “why, of course. i’m listening, sweetheart.”
the words that slowly drag out your throat felt so hard to get out. a lump builds up against your esophagus before you swallow, muttering a soft, “do you . . do you think i’m pretty?”
a smile goes against his lips. “honestly, i think you’re more than pretty,” and you let off a moan once you feel his touch skim down your spine. “every chance i stare at your body, my breath gets stolen,” and then he turns your face to stare right into the mirror. “i want you to see what i see, a gorgeous girl on my lap. stunning, is she not?”
albeit, the moment your eyes reach the mirror, you see nothing but the exact opposite of your reflection.
“. . no,” you mumble, leaning against his bare chest. you hear the faint breaths of geto as he’s still stuffing you full with his shaft. your skin against his felt warm, sweltering hot. for whatever reason, your throat started to become dry like the sahara as you resume to speak. “are you just saying that, sugu?”
“oh, i’d never lie to my pretty girl,” and your heart swoons a bit. his words, so tender—easily warming its way into your heart. as you stare into the mirror with him, he leans in to press gentle kisses all against your skin. the hairs beneath your neck stand up and you inhale another sharp breath. “i love you, and if i have to smother you with millions of compliments for you to see the gorgeous girl that i see, then so be it.”
“s—suguru,” you choke out, leaning into his touch. you were so sensitive, and he feels you start to gradually move again. you were so trapped up into your intrusive thoughts that you forgot how you were just about to release. he was right, you knew that. but something within you was telling you that it simply wasn’t the case. “promise?”
he sneaks a final kiss against the shell of your ear. “my love,” he whispers, a hand softly wrapping around your neck. it’s gentle, the tip of his middle finger strums down your throat before he feels the vibrations collide against his single digit. “you are perfect. even if you think otherwise, you’re perfect for me, i promise,” he murmurs, and you could almost cry. words that you always needed to hear, your heart eases a bit before your knees buckle. “i wish i could make you see how pretty you are for me,” and his free arm slides down between your thighs, feeling against your slick entrance. you whimper, slumping way back against his chest. “and i thought it was your eyes that i get lost in,” he simpers once you meet his gaze in the mirror. “the most precious body i’ve laid my eyes upon, just look at you for a second.”
your hips start to make haste again, and he’s quite thick inside you—you gnaw on your lip, staring at geto from the mirror and he smiles.
“. . . from your curves to your skin to every inch of your body,” he rants, a hand slowly making its way to touch and feel against every part of your skin. such soft pads of his fingertips roam everywhere and you can feel yourself staring to drift into a euphoric state. it was approaching, your inescapable orgasm that left such a warm pool to stir into your abdomen. “mwah,” he kisses near the outline of your jaw. “if i could fall in love with you for the first time again, i would.”
“don’t s-say things like that,” you tremble, feeling him gradually split the inside of your cunt open with his cockhead. it felt so good, like it always does—you were quite tense, your shoulders were at least. but with each kiss that geto gives your body it eases you, sending you into a sweet lewd trance. “s-suguru.”
he chuckles. “but baby,” and he’s teasing now, hearing that familiar kittenish tone residing underneath his low voice. “it’s true. i love you, not just for your body—i love your voice, your scent, your touch, the way you play with my hair,” and he pauses, a mere rough groan escaping his lips. he was right up against your ear before he sighs softly. “i love the way you look every time i praise you, especially. the way your pupils dilate and your lips curve into a subtle smile, it’s so adorable.”
“ . . . ”
“aw, too much?” he snickers.
you lie back, rotating your hips a bit as you grind against him in reverse—slow but steady, your hands grip against his thighs before you whine. so close, your release was at the tip of your tongue. you could almost taste it, the taste of your sweetly bitter climax steadily approaching itself.
“i- i love you too,” you mumble with quivering lips, breathy pants shortly following your dialogue. “t-thank you, sugu.”
“don’t thank me,” he whispers, bringing both hands towards your waist for about the nth time now. he runs his fingers up before its at your hips, guiding your movements before he grunts himself. “stare at yourself with me. i want you to see what a pretty girl looks like when she’s about to cum.”
you almost moan from his words alone, you felt so hot — not just from his touch, but the way he spoke to you too. if it was anything suguru geto was good at, it was praising you to your heart’s content.
the more you rode him, staring at your reflection through the mirror with him propped up right behind you—you started to see what he was seeing. perhaps his words were getting through to you, a soft satisfied noise departs from your lips and he pulls you closer. “easy, that’s it. stare at me in the mirror the whole time,” and he kisses your neck again—leaving a trail of his invisible smooches. “i got you, i got you,” and your whines grow a bit more louder. he’s hitting you deep, your head slightly spins before the grip on his thigh tightens. “just make a mess on me ‘n i’ll clean it all up. i’ll do anything for you, sweetheart. even if it’s a little messy, heh.”
a tiny smile tugs against your lips at his comment before you feel the sudden ache underneath your thighs. him talking you through it all in that sly soothing voice, you felt as if you were on cloud nine—the tenderness of geto’s words had your heart feening for more, for more of his love and affection.
“she’s so breathtaking,” he gently cups your chin, staring you right in the eyes—you glance at geto, beads of sweat racing down both sides of his forehead. he was pretty too, his hair was pinned up but a few strands poked out and merely shielded his eyes. every time he looked at you, it was like he was falling more and more in love. a thumb of his plays against your lip before he hums, “my woman. my gorgeous woman.”
the moment you reach your climax, it comes at full speed—you moan loudly, feeling your pussy transmit into a full crazed spasm. your thighs quaver and tremor, and you briefly bite down on your tongue. “. . . s-suguruu,” you whimper out, such sweet candied moans ripping out your throat. he intertwined his fingers with yours his as you rode it out. your hips, sliding back and forth against him still before eventually it comes to a halt. your eyelids became heavy as you lie back, a few strands of geto’s hair tickling against your skin. “f-fuckkk.”
“shhh. breathe for me, baby,” he soft mutters, watching as your twitching body slowly calms itself down after a while. everything felt hot. with your mouth was open, spit-glossed lips parted, you listen. breath after breath gets slower, focusing on your patterns before he kisses the top of your forehead. “good girl, the best girl.”
after a while— it goes silent, you sit there— still siting on his lap with his cock all inside of you before you exhale lowly. “how do we feel now? better?”
you puff out a soft sigh. “a- a little.”
“hey, that’s progress, sweetheart,” he gently coos against your ear. geto smiles once he notices you’re still holding onto his hand. your fingers lock against his before he gives you a little head pat. “sleepy?”
“no.”
it’s a long silence and he tilts his head with an eyebrow raise through the mirror and you pout.
“okay, just a little sleepy,” and you turn around, making him pull out before facing him directly. geto gazes into your eyes before a sheepish grin forms on his face once you kiss the corner of his mouth. “i know i already said it but i love you, sugu.”
“i love you,” he replies, leaning to kiss the top of your forehead for the umpteenth time. “so much more. now let’s get the pretty girl some rest. i’ll even sing you a song to help those eyes close..”
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If It All Fell (7)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst, PINING, Azriel's POV and he is incredibly sad
a/n: Yay here's more <3 I promise it gets happy and there's a little teaser of what that'll look like in this part. Let me know what you think pleaseee :)
Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)
~~
Azriel 
Azriel’s heart came to a thudding halt.
“What was that?” he asked softly, trying to play it off. Trying to pretend as if you hadn’t just asked him the one question he had hoped would never come. Because you were supposed to get better before it came to this. 
He had begged the Mother for any kind of reprieve.
She hadn’t listened, as Azriel had expected. 
“Mates,” you slurred, your head bobbing on his shoulder. The High Lords had exhausted you. “Helion said you… he said something about a mate. I can’t remember exactly… but no one’s told me what that is.” 
Pure adoration tore at Azriel’s chest. Your words blurred together as you sunk deeper into his arms, and Gods, did he love you. He let himself imagine that you were drunk—just for a moment. You were drunk and still his and he was carrying you home after a night at Rita’s. 
“Azriel?” 
The moment ended and panic replaced the temporary comfort that had consumed him. 
“Yes, my love?” It had slipped, a mistake fueled by his clouded mind. Azriel counted his footsteps and held his breath, but you only hummed in response, too drained to notice the endearment that had fallen with such desperation from his lips. 
“You were telling m’about mates,” you reminded him. Your arm slipped from his neck and landed in your lap. Azriel held you closer, feeling your body begin to lose its grip. 
“Of course,” he dutifully replied. “A mate is… it is a gift from the cauldron. An equal to share a bond with.”
“Like a lover?”
Azriel could hardly piece your words together with the way they tumbled out. 
That, and his stomach was twisting, reminding him of the very bond that was crying out within him. This was wrong. It was all so terribly wrong. He didn’t have to have this conversation with you last time; it had hurt you too much to even hint at the topic. 
Back then, Azriel had been so deep in anguish he couldn't keep food down, so desperate to just speak to you that his body rejected all else. 
This was somehow worse.
“Much stronger,” he whispered, pressing his nose to your temple in an act of weakness. You didn’t notice. “Our souls are linked—mates I mean. A mating bond doesn’t always lead to the pair being lovers, but if they choose to do so, it’s enhanced. It’s unexplainable, truly, having someone connected to you that you love so deeply.” 
“That sounds nice,” you mused, a melodic flow of syllables starkly contrasting the effort with which Azriel was trying to string his sentences together. 
“It is.” He gave in to his urges and looked down at you in his arms, your hair flushed against his leathers, your face soft and drowsy. “It is wonderful.” 
You cracked an eye open. Azriel had stopped walking. “Do you have one?” 
“What?” he choked out. 
“You speak as if you know the feeling well. Do you have a mate, Azriel?” 
“I—” There were no thoughts in his head, nothing but the sound of your voice and your question repeating itself like a bell tolling in a vicious pattern. “Yes,” he sputtered out. “I do, yes.” 
You smiled softly, but it was paired with a furrowed brow and a light sigh. “Good,” you nodded to yourself. “You deserve a mate.” 
Too much talking, too much thinking; your head lulled into his arm, face against his chest, and you were asleep. 
Yes, this was much worse than the last time. 
Azriel adjusted his grip and carried you back to the room you didn’t know belonged to the both of you. 
~~
The pounding in your head was your first indication that you were awake. You moved your hand to your hairline before opening your eyes, applying pressure in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure there. 
Useless. 
A small groan made its way up your throat. The night before, or whenever it was—you had no idea how long you’d been sleeping—was a jumbled mess in your mind. You remembered meeting Helion, being told you were in love with him, being told that you actually weren’t in love with him, and then he and Rhysand had entered your mind and left you as nothing more than a vegetable. 
There were other pieces too, like Azriel carrying you back to your room and talking about… mates? Yes, that sounded right—the larger-than-life, effervescent partners bestowed upon fae by the cauldron. 
And he had told you that he had one. 
That was good. Great, even. Something stirred within you, an uncomfortable feeling, but you ignored it in favor of the pain radiating across your head. Gods, why did it hurt so much? 
Helion and Rhysand had been in your mind. They were going to discuss things with you. 
You shot up far too quickly, the motion sending shooting pains up your neck. 
“What?” you heard a voice panic. “What is it? Are you hurt?” 
Another jarring look to the side and you just about passed out from the pain. You caught a glimpse of Azriel before you squeezed your eyes shut to try and manage it, his large form folded into a chair by the door that was certainly not made to accommodate wings. You lowered your head into your hands and heard the chair screech against the floor. 
“What is it, y/n?” Azriel asked, voice closer now. 
You let out a shaky sigh. “Sorry, just—it’s my head, give me a moment.” 
He didn’t speak, but the room became dark. That seemed like an impossible feat, with the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the walls and letting in the rays of the day court sun. But the pounding in your head receded a fraction, and you could tell it was dimmer even from behind your eyelids. 
“Does that help?” he asked, so low you could barely hear him. 
You felt his breath at your arm. 
“Yes,” you whispered back, and when you opened your eyes, Azriel was there. His wings had circled you, encasing you in a darkness that blocked out the world, his knees at the side of your bed. 
“You got up too quickly,” Azriel offered.
“I know, but I wanted to hear what the High Lords had to say about the witch and my memories and what I need to do to fix everything. Have you heard anything?”
“Very little. I’ve been here.” 
“For how long?” 
“You slept for a day and a half.” 
“And you stayed the entire time?” 
“You requested I stay by your side. You’ve been here.” 
You bit into your lip, the heavy weight of guilt loading onto your chest. Azriel flinched as if he felt it himself. “I wanted to stay,” he comforted. “It puts me at ease to… see you while we’re in this court. To know exactly where you are and who’s around you.” 
“Because of last time,” you stated, but it was a question that hung in the air. 
Azriel’s eyes tracked along the planes of your face. His hand twitched. “Yes, because of last time.” 
He looked so serious, bordering on forlorn. Despite the pain in your head and the conflicting emotions rising within you, you attempted to lessen some of the load that seemed to bogg the shadowsinger down. 
“You could have taken shifts with Cassian, you know. Or even, I don’t know, laid on the bed that’s the size of a small apartment. I was out cold the entire time—didn’t wake up once. I wouldn’t have noticed if you did,” you offered with a hint of a smirk playing at your lips. 
Azriel’s gaze dropped to your mouth, his own expression lightening. “Cassian would fall asleep immediately. And, just to let you know, you did wake up. Several times.” 
You gave him a doubtful look. “I think I would remember that.” 
The shadowsinger bit back a smile and something within you shone at the playful look in his eye. “Right, so you don’t remember waking up and practically ripping that from my body?” 
His eyes shot down to your chest, an action which you followed to find a large, unfamiliar sweater swathing your body in warmth. You looked further down at your hands, only to find the sleeves of the garment covering your palms and fingers as well. 
An incredulous laugh bubbled in your chest. “I wouldn’t—I didn’t actually rip this off of you, did I?” 
Azriel shifted his knees into a kneeling position beside you, his wings shuffling and creating a sound you had begun to find comfort in. “Well, you didn’t exactly ask politely.” 
You groaned and shoved your face back into your hands. “Gods, that’s embarrassing. It’s because I was delirious, I swear. Those damn High Lords scrambled my brain.” 
“Y/n, you have a penchant for demanding things in your sleep. Food, water, clothing, more blankets. Once you woke up to ask me for an entire roast duck and in the morning you had no recollection. You were quite aggravated that night.” 
“No, stop, I can’t take this. I am melting into a puddle of mortification and you are making it worse.” 
Azriel chuckled. “It’s alright. I’ve grown used to it over the years. It’s almost charming, really.” 
You peeked through your sweater-clad fingers. “You can’t mean that.” 
“I mean it very sincerely. When you are sick or unwell, you sleep through the entire night. When you wake up and grab the neck of my sweater like you’re robbing me, I know things are okay.” 
You groaned again, this time tilting your head back and immediately regretting the action when a pulse of pain permeated along your temples. But it wasn’t so bad anymore; Azriel and his wings made it better. 
You took a moment to gaze upon his face in the proximity. He was smiling slightly, some humor still shining in his hazel eyes. The occasional shadow made a pass along his cheeks and by his ear, whispering secrets you weren’t privy to and then coming to wind around your body as well. His hair was mused and untamed, landing in soft patterns across his forehead. 
Azriel was so beautiful it hurt. 
“Does your mate ever get upset that we are so close?” you asked, the question not even fully formed in your head before it entered the space.
The smile slipped from Azriel’s lips and you regretted your impulsivity almost instantly. 
“No,” he answered, a slight shake of his head. “I wouldn’t worry about that.” 
“Has something happened? Between the two of you?” 
“Y/n, please don’t worry yourself over—” 
“It’s just—Azriel, I know how hard all of this has been on you. When you spoke of your mate it was the first time I saw you look at peace. That’s why I’m asking.” 
“You remember what I said?” 
“All of it,” you smiled, but Azriel only looked grave. “Az—"
The shadowsinger jutted back as the familiarity left your lips. He sent his shadows out, their configuring forms covering the windows and the cracks in the doors until it was dark enough for him to remove his wings from around you. With him went the comfort of night-kissed air and warmth and all of the things that made sense in this life you had been dropped into. 
“Rhys has requested that we meet in the study to discuss findings,” Azriel relayed, clearing his throat and standing from his place on the bed. “I laid out some of your things and a servant ran a bath when you started to stir. Do you need help—” 
“I’ve got it,” you interrupted, eyes downcast, feeling as though you’d ruined something that was already painfully delicate. 
“I’ll be here if you need me. Just outside the door.” 
You believed him—you did—but something was missing. Something you couldn’t keep up with. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he was in love with someone. Mor, maybe? Or one of the sisters Cassian talked about on occasion? 
The thought of him with his mate made you nauseous. 
You shouldn’t have asked. 
~~
“A replication?” you asked, running a hand along the side of your head in an attempt to look casual about the throbbing taking place there. “So… it is like last time?” 
“Partially, but because the witch’s powers aren’t pure, she was unable to mimic what a full daemati can do. So, same outcome, fewer side effects,” Rhys offered, a calming presence across the table. “Witches often find sources to draw from because they don’t have access to their natural abilities any longer. Your source was—” 
“An opening in her mind,” Azriel concluded, expression guarded as he sat stiffly beside you. “There were remaining injuries in her mind. The witch found her weak points and used them against her.” 
Helion nodded, rounding one of the more ornate chairs and basking in the light streaming through the window. “Very astute. We thought there were no remnants of—” 
“Don’t say his name,” Azriel warned. 
“—of the attack,” Helion quickly corrected, obviously not in the mind to start an argument with the keyed-up spymaster. “But they must have been miniscule. We think she must have been an old witch, very practiced.” 
“So what do we do now?” Cassian gruffly asked, arms crossed as he leaned against the windowsill. You turned to look at him, but the sunlight casting his shadow sent your head ablaze. You quickly righted your gaze and squeezed your eyes shut to compensate. 
You felt shadows stalk beneath your feet and across the floor until they consumed the light of the window. If anyone had any comments on the shadowsinger’s act, they didn’t voice them. 
“Now,” Helion breathed out, dropping into a chair and interlacing his fingers atop the oak table. “We wait. Just like the last time, this kind of power is not something we can simply undo. We need a witch, and witches are incredibly elusive.” 
Trepidation gripped your heart, sending your lungs into a fiery descent. You were just supposed to wait? Wait and hope that maybe, possibly, they would find a witch and fix this before your life moved on without you in it?
Your breath came out in quick, uneven puffs, exacerbating the ache in your head. 
Azriel sat up in his seat, high alert and on the defensive. 
But Rhysand was quicker than his spymaster’s anger. “There is the possibility that this wears off on its own.” 
Your eyes snapped up. “Was that a possibility last time?” 
“No,” Cassian remarked, brows shot up to his hairline. “That’s why you were missing for so long and in so much pain after. You both made it clear that there was no moving whatever the daemati put in her head.” 
Helion and Rhysand shared a look, but your High Lord was the one to speak. “It was weaker this time, more permeable. We think, with time, the wall the witch attempted to replicate will break down and you’ll have everything back. She did only do this to you to flee from attack. It wasn't personal.” 
“How much time?” Azriel strained. 
Helion replied this time. “There is no way to know, shadowsinger.” 
“What about the pain? You said fewer side effects but I couldn’t even have light in my room this morning.” 
Rhysand looked sheepish, eyes darting over to the window still opaque with shadows. “Yes, well—we may have pushed you a bit too far during our assessment.” 
Cassian let out a disbelieving huff from the corner of the room. Azriel gripped the arms of his chair until they groaned. 
“So it’ll go away?” you asked, desperation trickling into your tone. 
The wood beneath Azriel’s hands splintered. 
“Yes, very soon. We can give you some tonics before you leave as well. They will help speed up the process,” Helion promised, eyeing his chair being slowly destroyed. 
In a motion that felt almost second nature, you covered the spymaster’s hand with your own, shadows wrapping around the press of your skin. It was then that you noticed the ring. Silver and unassuming, it took up residence on the ring finger of his left hand and looked like it belonged no place else. 
Our souls are linked, he had said, talking about his mate with such passion. 
You removed your hand from his. 
Azriel flexed his fingers upon your departure. 
“We were thinking,” Rhysand began after a pregnant pause that seemed to blanket the room. “With your pain, we might want to stay a few more days. Winnowing can add extra pressure to the body and flying would—” 
“No,” you were quick to dispute. “No, I want to go home. It’s lovely here, Helion, and I thank you for all you’ve done and are doing, but I want to go back to the Night Court. I want to try and live the life I’ve made for myself, even if I have no idea what I’m doing.” Another pause. “If that’s okay.” 
“Of course that’s okay,” Azriel spoke from beside you. His words sounded dull, his fingers remaining outstretched on the chair. 
“We will continue looking for the witch on our side,” Helion nodded, pushing out of his chair. He came before you then, meeting your gaze. “I cannot apologize enough for what your time in my court has cost you. I only hope that all will return to you. I have missed you, y/n.” 
And then the High Lord of Day was gone, and you had no recollection as to why he would miss you in the first place. Everyone was saying they missed you, even as you stood before them unharmed and intact. 
A harsh reality slammed into you with the departure of the High Lord. 
If you didn’t get your memories back—if there were no witches or deteriorating walls in your mind—they would continue to miss you. You would forever be a husk of your former self, never understanding the full picture of who you were. 
But that wasn’t okay with you—not at all. 
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Finally Together
When Jerry called, I could immediately tell something was very wrong. He was holding an ice pack up to his face and looked deranged overall.
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"Jerry? What the hell happened to you?"
"Oh, hey. Yeah. This." he pointed at his face. "That's a long story."
"Let me see!" I demanded. You see, Jerry was, most definitely, my bff - my very best, very gay friend. And he had a talent for getting into trouble, sadly.
He slowly lowered the ice pack and I gasped. His right eye was swollen shut, and his face was covered in bruises.
"How..."
"Well, there was this guy. He was kinda hot, and totally my type, but, you know, straight as an arrow. At least *now* I know that." Even despite his bruises, Jerry raised his eyebrows in the cutest way possible - one of the traits I admired about them.
Yes, I should mention, I kiiiind of had a tiny little crush on Jerry. Or perhaps a gigantic one. You always want the ones you can't have, right? In my case, I was a woman - which was enough to disqualify myself rather finally.
"...and? Did he hit you?" I asked, even though I already suspected the answer.
"Yeah. I was just talking to him, trying to subtly find out his orientation. You know how it goes. Apparently, I wasn't too subtle about it, though, and he kind of escalated all over my face. It's no big deal, now I know."
Jerry smiled, but I could clearly see that it caused him pain to do so. It nearly broke my heart.
"It is a big deal." I answered. "That's horrible. You are worth so much more than this. Where did it happen? Did you call the police?"
"It was in the gym. Keith - that's the guy - works there, so, I guess, I need a new gym." Jerry joked. "And no, I didn't call the police, it's just... it's alright, okay Mathilda?"
I was not convinced but decided to let it go. Jerry was just a so sweet and innocent guy, he wouldn't even cause someone trouble if that someone punched in his face. I, on the other hand, was fuming. That was not a way to treat my bff! I would have really liked to kick that Keith's ass right now.
I chatted a bit more with Jerry before he had to go and promised him to come over that evening.
To be quite honest, I didn't plan to do anything, but when I was walking to Jerry's apartment in the afternoon, I passed his gym. I didn't even know it was on the way, because I honestly never paid attention to it much. But now that I saw it on the way, I couldn't help it. I would go in there and just tell the manager that one of their employees was a homophobic asshole. Just a little push in the right direction.
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I entered the gym. It looked quite standard, but I couldn't see any manager or anyone else to talk to, for that matter, so I just went in there. It was quite empty, which was not surprising at this time of the day. There was, however, a young, muscular man doing push-ups. It was quite disgusting, actually, with all the sweat dripping down his body and a musky, penetrant smell was filling the room.
He stood up and greeted me.
"Hi, there. You're not a member, are you?"
"I'm not." I said. I felt like adding a "sorry" or something but decided against it. Instead, I clutched my handbag tighter.
"So, what can I do for you, ma'am?" He had that smug grin of an urge driven man who seemed to undress me with his gaze. I shuddered in disgust, but still, I straightened my back.
"Well, actually, I'm here to make a complaint."
"A complaint? About what?"
"Your staff."
"Oh? Do you have an issue with someone working here?"
"Well, yes. I just learned that one of your trainers, Keith was the name, I think, assaulted a customer. That is a terrible way to treat people, and I will not stand for it."
The guy laughed and flashed me a superior grin while he nonchalantly readjusted his groin. Free balling of course. Ugh. Can you spell 'toxic masculinity'?
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"Look, honey. Whoever told you that, they lied to you. Keith would never hit a girl, especially not a pretty one."
I felt my face reddening from anger.
"First off, I'm not your honey, and secondly, it wasn't a girl but a guy."
The guy raised his eyebrows. "Really? A guy, huh?"
"Yes. He is my very good friend, and it's not funny at all."
"Hmm. Yeah, I think I remember the guy, some fruity fag who needed to be told a lesson."
Then it dawned on me. The disgusting guy in front of me was the man that had hurt Jerry.
"You're the one who did it! How dare you!" I exclaimed and tried to slap his face.
Before I could land a hit, though, he grabbed my wrist with an iron grip and grinned like a predator.
"Ah, ah. I wouldn't try that, if I were you. Would be a shame, if something were to happen to your pretty face, too."
I withdrew my hand and trembled from disgust.
"Ugh. You're just such a disgusting... jock."
In hindsight, I had no idea what happened, but perhaps some benevolent spirit or sprite was listening. In any case, Keith all of a sudden got a really strange expression on his face and looked really pale for a moment. And then... he suddenly looked even paler, like white paper or cloth. I will never be able to forget the expression of surprise on his face, as his body kind of... collapsed in on himself. His muscular torso diminished, and his arms and legs twisted and fused into thin rubber strips. But his face... His face contorted into a white fabric pouch that was completely devoid of any features within seconds. It had only taken a few moments, but Keith had disappeared.
I looked around first, but nobody else was in the gym right now. I carefully stepped closer and inspected what was left of Keith. Inside his black, damp gym shorts that was lying on the ground, I could see a pair of men's underwear, I believe it was called a jockstrap: A large fabric pouch held by rubber bands - designed to just cover the genitals, although, judging by the size of the pouch, rather large genitals. Now, as Keith had demonstrated quite clearly just a few moments ago, he had certainly not be wearing any underwear - and I had seen what had happened to his face.
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With pointed fingers, careful not to touch the damp gym shorts and almost gagging from the strong smell, I picked up the piece of underwear. I had almost thrown it away again, when I noticed that it, too, was covered in sweat and stink. However, the piece of underwear that had once been a man held a strange fascination to me. I lifted it up to my face, to have a closer look, but didn't consider the consequences. When I breathed in, my nose was filled with the overwhelmingly strong and manly smell of sweaty, unwashed genitals, and it triggered something inside of me. All of a sudden, I felt tingly all over and groaned. My body felt weird all of a sudden. It was like that disgusting smell was all around me, enveloping me, pushing me to... change, somehow.
In horror, I felt my feet swelling up in my shoes. It wasn't painful, but it felt like I had been wearing boots that were way too small. The pressure was quickly getting unbearable and painful until my canvas shoes and thin socks couldn't take it anymore. First on the left and then, shortly after, on the right side, the toes of massive feet burst out from the footwear. The pressure subsided, and it felt fine again.
The changes didn't stop, though. Now that my feet had broken free from their restraints, my legs were the next to follow. A ripping sound heralded the death of my tights, as my legs gained mass and muscles. It looked almost comically how the threads of my tights were ripped apart, strand for strand. At the same time, I watched, as my hands grew larger. Gone were my delicate fingers, replaced by thick sausage-like appendages. Those new finger weren't carefully manicured but instead, I was now sporting short, ugly nails that would have been fitting for a lumberjack, rather than a girl.
While my legs were still growing, and I was getting visibly taller, my arms were next to follow. My blouse didn't even stand a chance as the arms did not only grew longer but most importantly, stronger. My biceps swelled like I visited the gym every day and, to my horror, I saw a tattoo forming on my right arm that reminded me a lot of the one Keith had had. I didn't have much time to think about it, though, as a new force practically ripped my blouse apart: My torso was pushing outward in all directions. My shoulders widened considerably, and my bra snapped from the strain. At first, I thought my boobs were growing, but it was quite the opposite. They were receding into my body, being replaced by even more massive and decidedly male pecs. Below them, a ripple went through my stomach, leaving behind the cobblestone road of abs.
The changes had met up at my midsection now and I was afraid of what was going to happen next. Sure enough, my skin-tight summer trousers bulged forward as something pressed against them from the inside.
"No..." I groaned, with a lower voice than I was used to, and tried to push whatever was appearing back into my midsection, but it was no use. With another ripping sound, a penis emerged from between my legs, quickly followed by a pair of testicles that pushed the ruined trousers down and settled in between my tree trunk-like thighs.
My head started swimming. That was wrong, that was so wrong. But the changes just went on. An Adam's apple formed in my throat, further lowering my voice, and my face reformed. It became squarer, and my jawbones became more pronounced. At the same time, my beautiful long hair receded into a short masculine cut. However, as hair disappeared on top of my head, it grew elsewhere. Or, should I say everywhere. Disgusting, wiry body hair grew in on my arms and legs and even on top of my enormous feet and the back of my hands. My chest was coated by a layer of short and coarse hair, and a treasure trail led down my midsection, where it disappeared into a thick pubic bush.
Speaking of bushes, two more formed in the large area of my armpits. Ugh. I was hairy like a fucking monkey. The only well-groomed bit of body hair was on my face, in the short beard that I could see in the gym mirror.
I could hardly believe my eyes. Staring back at me from the reflection was no one else but Keith. *I* was a splitting image of Keith now, only naked aside from the tatters of my clothes. I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a low grunt.
Okay, Mathilda, no reason for panic, I told myself. I would just... Go see a doctor. Yes. There had to be an explanation. This could be treated.
I took a step towards the exit and stumbled over the remains of my coughing. Oh, right, I was still naked.
The only piece of clothing was Keith's gym shorts. Well, his gym shorts and Keith himself, who was a piece of underwear now. I looked between the shorts and the underwear. On the one hand, I really didn't want to wear what had just been Keith, but on the other hand... I certainly wasn't going without any underwear. Everyone would be able to see the outline of my current genitals. Yuck.
So, lacking other options, I pulled on the white piece of underwear. It was, unsurprisingly, very sweaty, and it clung to my junk. I grimaced, but it was better than the alternative. My ass was still largely uncovered, but that was not as bad as the front side. I had to admit that my new equipment filled out the pouch pretty well.
I quickly shook my head and pulled on the gym shorts as well. It felt weird not to cover my chest, but that was probably acceptable in my current state.
Perhaps I could ask Jerry if I could borrow some men's clothing from him.
Oh my, Jerry. He was probably waiting for me. I grabbed my handbag and fled the gym.
Walking felt weird. Of course, regardless of my looks, I was still a woman, so I took small steps and refused to spread my legs too much while walking. It was very awkward. The sun was shining down and although it wasn't all *that* hot, I found myself starting to sweat. How disgusting was that? It was like those stupid mountains of muscle were producing so much heat that my skin was soon glistening with sweat and my armpits started to smell. I tested it by lifting an arm and taking a whiff. Ugh. I needed a shower, badly. I probably would be able to use Jerry's.
Jerry... I saw his face right in front of me in my mind. The cute smile, the adorable brown eyes, the cute little dimples on his cheeks when he grinned.
A strange feeling came over me from my groin area. What was going on down there? When I looked down, the ample bulge of my cock had become even bigger, probably tenting out the pouch that had been Keith's face. I groaned. Men were so primitive. All it took was one sexy thought and bam, erection.
Still, I couldn't deny that it felt pretty good. I checked it anyone on the street was looking before I felt the outline of the cock through the layers of clothing with my big hand. The touch made me moan, and I felt my member throb.
That's when I experienced the weirdest feeling. As the sweat from my groin mixed with the fluids seeping out of the cock head and were absorbed by the jockstrap, all of a sudden, I felt the presence of Keith - the real Keith. It was like a strong mental attack, to get his body back, but I fought back. It was not *his* body, it was mine, even though it may have looked like Keith right now.
It was the strangest experience. I could practically *feel* his thoughts and emotions. The humiliation from being wrapped around, well, *my* cock and balls, I could even taste and smell an echo of what he was tasting and smelling, including the weird taste of precum that had mixed into the face-pouch recently.
It wasn't easy, but I repelled Keith's mind and kind of stuffed it back into the underwear. When I continued my walk, I didn't even notice that I know walked like a man: With long, powerful strides and enough room for my balls.
Luckily, my cock had calmed down a bit by now, and I ran the rest of the way, just to make sure. I was glistening with more sweat when I finally arrived at Jerry's apartment and rang the bell. Ugh. That musk was so bad, I just hoped I could hop under the shower right away.
However, when Jerry opened the door, we were both stunned for a moment. I because Jerry looked even better in reality than when I imagined him. Foreign hormones flooded my system, coming from my balls and I just stood there for a moment. Of course, I had a crush on Jerry before, but right now, in this moment, I realized for the first time that now, Jerry wasn't quite as unreachable as before.
Jerry, on the other hand, backed away, an expression of fear on his face.
"Keith, what... Is this some kind of joke?"
I was taken aback by his reaction.
"No! It's not... It's me, Mathilda!"
"Who?"
"Mathilda, your best friend."
Jerry stared at me, confusion on his face.
"What are you talking about Keith? Wasn't it enough for you to bash my face in? Do you want to humiliate me now?"
"No, please. Listen, Jerry, you're my friend, and I would never hurt you."
He scoffed. "Oh really? My black eye says otherwise."
I could feel myself getting upset from all the testosterone and took a deep breath.
"I can explain. Please, Jerry, hear me out."
He looked at me skeptically.
"Fine. I'll listen."
With that, he let me into his apartment.
"Okay, first of all, can I take off these gym shorts? They are really really disgusting and sweaty, and they are clinging to my legs. Yuck!"
"Uh, oookay." Jerry looked even more confused but allowed it.
Gladly, I got rid of the stinking shorts and threw them at the ground, far away from me. Jerry frowned but was apparently more captured by my now only jockstrap-clad body that I sat down on his couch. I admit I wanted to get rid of the jockstrap, too, but then I would have been completely naked in my friend's living room.
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The thought was oddly exciting, and I felt my cock raise in reaction.
I just hoped that Jerry wouldn't notice my state of arousal, even though there wasn't much fabric left to hide it, but I quickly spoke.
"So, Jerry, it's really me. Remember the time when we watched Star Trek: Voyager and had a pillow fight, and you beat me easily, even though I am taller and stronger?"
"How would you know about that, Keith?" Jerry crossed his arms. He had obviously noticed my midsection problem, which was throbbing now, leading to another wet spot on the piece of underwear.
"I'm telling you, I am Ma..."
Suddenly, I grabbed my head. There it was again. Keith had reacted to my arousal and was fighting for control of *my* body again. It was weaker this time, though, and although it took me a few moments, I pushed him back between my legs, where he belonged.
Finally, I spread my legs, man-spreading without even thinking about it and giving the whole world in general and Jerry in particular a good view of my massive groin. A smirk formed on my face. Having such a big cock was something to be proud of.
"...Mathilda." I finished my sentence, although I found the name rather unfitting for a stud like me. "I just kind of... transformed into Keith's body, but it's still the same old man as always. Woman, I mean."
"Uh... what?"
I smiled and stood up, slowly, so he could see all the muscles I had gained. I was taller, too, taller than Jerry even.
"But tell me, do you like what you see?" My cock was throbbing like mad now. God, I needed to have this man!
"Uuuh... uhm... yes? Yes."
I chuckled. "Well, Jerry. I don't know how to get back to my original body yet, but do you want to... touch this one?" I gently took his hand and placed it on my chest.
Jerry didn't react at first, but then he started caressing my chest. It felt great, and he moaned, too.
Another small spurt of precum spilled into my underwear and again, Keith acted up. It was even weaker this time, and I had no trouble staying in control. I did notice something else though. Apparently, Keith was enjoying this a lot, way more than a straight man should. He was almost addicted to my cock fluids by now, and he mentally lapped at my organ submissively. And he exhibited a longing for Jerry that appeared to be too deep-rooted to have developed recently. Well, good for him, because as my jockstrap, he would have a front row seat in what happened next.
"Mathilda, is it really... okay?" Jerry asked, barely being able to restrain himself.
"Yes Jerry." I said while looking into his eyes. "It's more than okay. It's perfect. And it's Matthew from now on, okay?"
I took a deep breath, breathing in my wonderful musky smell, and I watched Jerry do the same. And when I kissed him, I couldn't wait to tear his clothes off and plow his cute little ass with my mighty cock while my lucky jockstrap was watching.
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charliemwrites · 1 day
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Three to Flee
Commission from the very sweet @ignoreprotocol
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Someone leaves the door open and the pets get out.
Content Warning: Established kidnapping situation, unhealthy relationships, collaring
Author's Note: This does not mean Keeper/Kept is back. As far as I'm concerned, that story is finished, but this was a special case.
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Shockingly, it’s not Feral that brings it up first.
The girls are having a little picnic at the edge of Johnny and Shy Thing’s yard, shaded by the tall trees. The men are chatting on the porch, sharing cigars and whiskey, far from earshot. Good behavior has earned them this bit of privacy, and so far, they’ve just used it to exchange keeper notes and offer bedroom advice.
“I can’t believe you don’t even have a fence,” Good Girl muses, glancing at the forest beyond. Her own yard is well fortified. It’s not just the sturdy, unclimbable fence, but also the monitors and floodlights connected to it.
Shy Thing sheepishly mentions a failed escape attempt several months earlier, a mad dash through the woods that ended with her dirty and disciplined. That prompts Good Girl to confess her own ill-fated getaway, a midnight attempt at sneaking out that resulted in a bruised ass.
Feral listens with her head cocked, nibbling at her apple slices. When their eyes turn to her, she shrugs.
“I haven’t tried to leave in a while,” she admits, “but I don’t think it would go well.”
Good Girl frowns. “How do you know if you haven’t tried?”
Feral snorts. “You’ve met Simon, haven’t you?”
All eyes turn to the boys on the porch. And there’s Simon, watching. Feral makes a rude gesture his way and they can see his shoulders shaking with a chuckle.
“Besides… it’s not so bad,” she muses. “Most of the time.”
Good Girl sits back, expression twisting. “I don’t want it to be ‘not so bad,’ I want it to be good. And I want it that way all the time.”
Shy Thing shifts. “What’s so wrong with John…?”
Good Girl huffs and begins picking at threads in the blanket. “He’s… fine. I mean, he would be if I could just leave. Don’t you miss being free?”
Feral hums.
“I… I miss going to the store when I wanted… or just… walking around town,” Shy Thing admits slowly. “I miss coffee shops and parks.”
Good Girl groans in agreement. “I miss the internet. It’s like being a fucking teenager again, having all my activity monitored.”
With a little more momentum now, Shy Things continues, “I haven’t been alone in months. Just… by myself. Doing whatever I want.”
“And not having rules,” Good Girl adds, sipping at the mojito John put in a little travel cup for her. “Fucking… sick of having a bedtime and chores and a fucking collar. Aren’t you sick of it?”
It’s directed at both of them, but Shy Thing nods, hands fidgeting.
“It gets to be a lot sometimes,” she mumbles, “I think I warmed up to Johnny out of pure exhaustion.”
Good Girl huffs again, worked into a proper fuss now. “And they’re so smug about it. Like we’re just these good, trained pets.”
Feral pipes up, “We could leave together.”
Both girls swivel to her with varying degrees of shock, hope, and disbelief.
“You said you didn’t think you could get past Simon,” Good Girl says.
Feral snorts and stretches out on her stomach in a mottled patch of sunlight creeping through the leaves.
“Yeah, I couldn’t on my own,” she explains, “but between the three of us…”
It’s uncomfortably simple when it happens. They just need to wait until the next big mission.
All three of them beg (or in Feral’s case, demand) to spend that time together while the keepers are away. It’s not unusual for the creatures to meet up when one or more of the men are gone. With all three off on a mission this time, they sniffle about being lonely and wanting company. That their houses feel too big and empty, that cooking for one is depressing.
Johnny caves instantly; John agrees on the stipulation that Good Girl is on her best behavior before he leaves. Simon, of course, is a foregone conclusion.
They go to Simon’s house. It’s the safest of the three homes and has the most space. Not to mention the girls will have some sort of access to the outside with the enclosed sunporch.
On the day of the mission, Good Girl and Shy Thing show up with fully packed bags, ready for their extended “sleepover” with Feral. The pets see their boys off, behave as normal for the cameras until Shy Thing gets the “heading out” message from Johnny. That’s the greenlight.
Feral has her own bag of things that she packs quickly and expertly. They fill a fourth bag with nonperishable provisions, just in case. Each of them has cash that they filched last minute from their keepers’ wallets – knowing they wouldn’t check them just before a classified mission.
The girls know it’ll be a day or two before anyone checks on them. Even Kyle is away with the team this time.
And then it all comes down to walking out the door.
The front door is, of course, locked. All the windows have alarms on them, and so does the garage door. But the sunporch…
“He didn’t lock the door,” Feral realizes as it swings open. And the alarm only engages when it’s locked.
All three of them take a single step out into the open air. And stop. Stare at each other a little moon-eyed.
They just left.
They stride at a quick clip around the side of the house and down the road. It’ll be an hour-long walk into town, but they have thick coats and each other for company. They chatter as they follow the pavement, just within the tree line out of caution. Pretend its giddy celebration at their escape and not a distraction from the creeping mix of dread and uncertainty beginning to simmer within each of them.
When they reach town, they blend into the crowds, weaving through the streets until they find a low-end hotel. It won’t be anything fancy, but at least it seems clean enough. Good Girl does all the talking with the receptionist (also a lady, thank god) since Feral and Shy Thing are jittery from so many people. They get a one-bed room with easy access to the fire exit.
 It’s only after they’re inside that reality sinks its claws in.
They’re free. For the first time in months, they’re outside with no one standing behind their shoulders or holding their arms. No one to appease, nothing to behave for.
And Shy Thing throws up in the toilet.
“This is scary,” she wheezes, eyes watering. “I’m scared. I want—”
Though she stops, the other two know what the end of that sentence was. Good Girl rubs her back.
“Don’t worry, they’re not going to find us,” she soothes like she doesn’t know why Shy Thing is really scared.
Neither Shy Thing nor Feral reply. The answer hangs in the air, unspoken. We want them to.
Feral, feeling restless, goes back into the main room and begins rummaging through her bag.
“What are you doing?” Good Girl asks, giving Shy Thing privacy to clean up.
“Looking for something to cut that off with.” Feral nods to Good Girl’s collar. “It’s probably chipped or something. We should have taken it off at home.”
She stops as the blood drains from her fellow creature’s face. They stare at each other across the tiny motel room, the weight of their successful plan pressing heavier and heavier with each passing second.
“I…” Good Girl rasps, “I…”
“You don’t want to.”
Her eyes well with tears. “No.”
Feral drops her bag and crumples to the ground, tugging her knees up to her chest.
“Why don’t I want to?” Good Girl whispers, curling her arms around herself. “This… this was my idea. I complain all the time. Why do I miss him already?”
Shy Thing appears in the doorway, sniffling. “I-I don’t know if I can do this. I can’t imagine life without Johnny. I… I don’t know if I want to have a life without Johnny.”
And Feral, still on the floor and trembling all over, just looks at them with huge tears running down her face.
Needless to say, when three rather miffed keepers in full combat gear throw the door open at 3am, they are not expecting armfuls of distraught creatures sobbing into their chests.
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cheriladycl01 · 1 day
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Could you do fic for Peter 'Bono' Bonnington with wife chef!reader? She always brought him food because she knew how busy he could get with everything. So, she would always make him his favourite meals/pick up a guilty pleasure snack as a surprise for him. Maybe she had some surprises for him. I'll let you decide what it was. Just something fluff and cute. Thanks! :))
Lets make lunch for my Husband! - Peter Bonnington x ChefWife! Reader
Plot: You are famous on Tiktok for making videos where you pack lunches for you husband but use ingredients globally as you always travel with him of race weekends.
Credit to princemick for the GIF
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y/user
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Liked by peter.bonn, gordongram and lewishamilton
y/user: Racing in Bahrain!
Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!
Round One 🇧🇭 And we have Chicken, Rice and Veggies (a very hearty meal here) 🏎️
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fan1: I love her TikTok’s she’s so funny and Peter is just so cute!
fan2: their relationship is eveything you me
gordongram: Cooking in Style as always Y/N!
-> y/user: thanks Gords!
“Baby, lunch was amazing today! And thank you for putting the Twirl in there!” He grins as you both get back to the hotel, it had been a good race and you were both happy.
“I’m so glad you enjoyed it hunny. I’ve already made a meal plan of what I’m going to make at each race! You’ll be so happy with breakfast lunch and dinner in Silverstone!” You grin pulling him in for a kiss.
“Mmmm what have I got?” He grins, pulling you to sit on his lap on the sofa in your hotel room.
“Breakfast, of course a full English, get you all set for the day and make sure you’ve got all the protein to see you through till lunch. Then you’ve got your fave Ham Pesto and Mozzarella Sandwich for lunch. And then to round it off, I’ll invite Toto, Suzie, Lewis, George and Carmen all round for a Sunday Roast!” You say practically bouncing at the prospect of guests and being able to cook for them!
“I love you, you are without a doubt the best thing that has ever happened to me” he smiles pulling you back to relax on the sofa as you both sit there in each others embrace.
“I love you most!” You declare making him laugh and kiss your head. It wasn’t a battle he could win with you despite knowing you were wrong and he held an impossible amount of love for you.
y/user
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y/user: Racing in Saudí Arabia!
Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!
Round Two 🇸🇦 And we have my first time making Kabsa which a local helped me get all the ingredients! It’s very yummy! 🏎️
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peter.bonn: it was so nice, can’t wait to come back!
fan1: I’m living for this series, not the rich men racing!
fan2: this is so cute that she cooks for him!
“You know, the boys keep saying you need to start bringing it in for them aswell” he chides as you get into the car.
“What am I expected to cook for the 5000 now? I don’t think so, that’s why they have a paid for hospitality…” you groan, waking up early just to prepare Peter some food was exhausting you couldn’t imagine getting up to make it for more people!
“Maybe Toto should hire you as head chef here!” He grins and you laugh at the thought. You, working in Mercedes Catering?
“Baby … you know I have a … Michelin Star right?” you offer in confusion.
“Oh so your below working for Mercedes now are you?” He frowns, faking his offence on the matter.
“Oh stop being a whiny baby Pete!” You scold lightly hitting his arm, making him recoil and sigh before pulling you into a big hug.
“Im lucky you don’t have to be there 24/7. What would I do without you” he laughs.
“Probably starve as you’d forget to eat!” You hum in thought.
y/user
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y/user: Racing in Australia!
Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!
Round Three 🇦🇺 Of course I couldn’t come in and not offer fairy bread (as requested by my adopted grid son Oscar Piastri) and my famous Chicken Parm Sandwiches for the team which went down a treat!
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oscarpiastri: thank you for the fairy bread Y/N, LN understands the hype now
-> landonorris: don’t tell Jon, he said I couldn’t have any …
-> y/user: and rat out my second grid son, no way!
danielricciardo: brought back childhood memories! Thanks for coming all the way to VCARB for delivery!
-> y/user: you are welcome Dani! 🇦🇺🐨
“Thank you for the fairy bread!” Oscar said pulling you into a hug as you came back to get your container from the McLaren garage, seeing it fully empty.
“Everyone enjoy? Even though I felt like a child making it?” You laugh knowing it wasn’t exactly a chef thing to make but Oscar had asked for it, and who were you to deny the literal son you had adopted since he started.
“Yeah, Lando hadn’t ever tried it and I made it for Lily once to prove to her it was a real thing we ate but the bread kinda ended up being soggy, she preferred yours a lot more” he laughed back and you continued to talk about racing, cooking, life and everything else that just came up.
Halfway through that conversation Lando joined pulling his grid mum into a massive hug and asking her to bake him some cake or make the chicken wraps.
Fun fact, Y/N actually invented the chicken wrap for Lando. She became Lando’s private chef for a while when he lived in the UK, and he wasn’t … well I mean he’s Lando and if anyone expects him to know even know to turn on an oven you are sorely mistaken.
Eventually a group of drivers were around the woman, and it took Peter and Lewis forcing their way through to get her to come back.
“You’ve been busy!” He smiles nodding his head to the now dispersing group.
“Yeah, just talking to the kids!” You grin, nodding in the McLaren twins direction who were now messing around with each other.
y/user
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y/user: Racing in Azerbaijan!
Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!
Round Four 🇦🇿 Cooked up a storm off track today in a cooking interview and remaking one of the first dishes I learnt in school ‘Uzbek Plov’
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inthekitchen: pleasure to have you in and talking while cooking :)
-> y/user: thank you for all the fun! 🫶🏼
peter.bonn: This was nice, but I’m going to need some comfort food soon baby, these variations of meat and rice … it’ll be the end of me.
-> y/user: I thought you enjoyed my cooking!
-> peter.bonn: I DO! Just missing some creature comforts!
“You were amazing in that interview baby!” He says twirling you around as he came to pick you up on the Saturday evening. You had unfortunately missed qualifying, but you were excited to hear about your husbands day.
“Thank you, how was qually?” You ask.
“Could have been better, could have been worse” he admits looking down. He then tells you all about his frustrations with the car this season and he feels pretty helpless when it comes to advising Lewis who is getting more and more hot headed as the season progresses.
“Well I made your favourite!” You grin showing him the famous Victoria Sponge you’d made on the cooking show.
“Oh fuck, I love you!” He grins before directing you over to the car to get you both back to the hotel as soon as possible so he can have some of the delicacy in the tin on your lap.
y/user
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y/user: Racing in Miami
Come make lunch with me for my husband who doesn’t go to Mercedes Hospitality for some reason!
Round Five 🇺🇸 My husbands been getting fussier. Now in the homeland where there is no cuisine … we’ve gone for the requested creature comforts. From Breakfast to Lunch here are Peter’s faves!
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peter.bonn: best waffles ever 🧇
“Thank you, I think I really needed that meal! As much as love the differentiation with this global skills challenge. I needed something to remind me of home! The waffles were perfect. And my favourite Sandwich? I can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned for Monaco next week!” He grins happily. Loving that you were cooking him something for every race.
“Ooo that reminds me. I picked you up these” you grin. Out from your bag you pull out a box of American Candy that he always wanted whenever you guys were in the states.
“In Moderation okay? Toto will murder me if he knows all these desserts are happening!” You smile kissing him before placing the sweets in his hand.
You had big plans for Monaco and you couldn’t wait!
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hawkinsbnbg · 2 days
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Steve had died in that interrogation room under Starcourt and now, he was stuck haunting Robin Buckley who might as well be his shortest heartbreak and long-lost twin.
The problem was she couldn't see or touch him.
No, she could hear him just fine, but physical contact was just impossible.
Steve, however, didn't care much so long as he had someone there to listen to his daily monologues. It was fun.
They bickered most of the time and while Robin always seemed sad that she couldn't hug him whenever he told her about his parents or how lonely he used to be before her, Steve was just happy with what he got.
Because even in death, he wasn't alone, and that was enough of a gift to him.
Then, the day his funeral was held, Steve was thankful that he had convinced Robin to attend considering it was how he reunited with the kids.
They all saw him.
A thing that Steve would never take for granted.
Robin didn't know what to do when they flocked around her and bombarded her with question after question, demanding to know why she was the one who got the privilege of being haunted by Steve.
"A privilege?" Robin burst into a laugh, giving them a ridiculous look.
"Of course, to think you've been haunted and actually having real conversations with a ghost every day is a revolutionary step into the spiritual science field," Dustin narrowed his eyes. "And I am very disappointed in you, Ms. Robin Buckley, for not telling me right away!"
"Just say you're jealous that Steve doesn't haunt you." Max rolled her eyes.
"You say it as if you're not jealous yourself!" Mike scowled at her.
"No, I'm not, you delusional nerd!" Max scowled back.
"Hey!"
"C'mon guys, don't fight," Lucas frowned and sighed in exasperation.
Noticing the odd looks from other people at the cemetery, Robin herded the kids into Steve's car that he had given her as a keepsake.
Once they were safely away from prying eyes, Robin clapped her hands to gather everyone's attention.
"Children!" She then continued under their curious gazes. "Steve-o here said he really appreciates that you munchkins care so much about him. But sadly, he can't leave my side. Like literally can't so if any of you want to see him, you can always seek me out whenever you see fit."
"Why are you saying all of this?" Mike squinted at her.
"Because Steve can't talk to us, obviously." Dustin responded haughtily, earning an eye roll from the other boy.
"Bingo!" Robin did a fist bump with Dustin.
Then, she held up a finger at them. "And before you ask, I can't see him. Or touch him."
She watched the kids look at the passenger seat before nodding at her.
It must be Steve who confirmed the truth, she thought.
As they went back to discussing Steve's incorporeal state, Robin had a feeling that she had unknowingly adopted a gaggle of troublesome ducklings who were going to give her grey hair very very soon.
"C'mon Robbie, it's a Halloween party," Steve begged. "Let's go have some fun! Don't your heart ache to watch your bestest friend rotting in sorrow while eating pumpkins?"
"First of all, I've never ever met anyone who uses 'heart' and 'ache' like that," Robin blew at her freshly painted nails.
"Well, now I'm your first. Didn't people always say special always come late?"
"I don't even want to correct you on all of that," Robin huffed quietly at Steve's goofy chuckle. "And no, Dingus, you don't eat pumpkins. Or if you do, I don't care."
"Please, Robbie, I just wanna have fun," Steve sighed dolefully. "It's been a long time ago since I went to a party." He sighed again and even sniffled a little.
When Robin groaned, a big grin stretched on his lips.
"Just this time." She narrowed her eyes at him, or precisely speaking, at the spot where she assumed he was sitting.
Sometimes, when she made a wrong guess, Steve would just move over to where her gaze stopped and continue talking her ears off.
"I promise you're gonna have so much fun, Robbie." Steve ruffled her hair even if his hand always passed right through her. It was still one of his hard-to-get-rid-of habits anyway.
By the time they arrived, the party was already full-blown and swarmed with people.
As Robin struggled her way through the crowd, Steve just walked beside her with barely any difficulties.
He bet she would curse him so much if she saw how comfortable he looked right now.
But then, his little moment of joy was cut short when he bumped into someone whose lips literally knocked against his.
As cliché as it might sound, he certainly felt the electricity running through his body from that single accidental kiss.
And belatedly, a realization dawned on him.
He had bumped right into someone.
He, a ghost, had bodily collided with a living human.
Shocked, Steve stepped back and was at a loss for what to do next.
Then, a shaky voice shook him out of his trance.
"Harrington?"
Staring into those scared Bambi's eyes, Steve clenched his jaw and forced himself to not panic.
"Munson."
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jordyn14 · 2 days
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Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all | Joe Burrow
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Summary: After a terrible start to a day that had such high hopes, two people do something that should lead to an even worse day, but in ends up better than it started.
Pairing: Joe burrow x first person fem reader
Words: 5058
Notes: this fic is kind of all over the place, but I didn’t want to split it up into 2 fics. I hope you enjoy!! <3
Taglist: @wickedfun9
The Bengals season was officially over following the win against the browns on January 7th, though we all knew it was over after the loss against the Chiefs on December 31 which kicked them out of playoff contention. In honor of adding another season into the books, Sam was hosting a little party for any player or friend of a player who wanted to come today. To say the day was not going great so far was the understatement of the century. First, as soon as I woke up in the morning, I stepped in some fresh poop from Mike, the cat I got Joe for his birthday, who apparently forgot where the litter box was. Because she's new-yes, she, Joe named her after Mike the Tiger at LSU-and I absolutely adore her, I shook it off and took a very in dept shower, making sure to scrub my feet extra good in order to rid myself of it completely.
Next, during breakfast, I was transferring my eggs onto my plate after putting some on Joes and the handle broke off of the pan and dropped onto my feet. The eggs went everywhere on the ground and were quickly eaten by Tucker, the dog Joe got me for Christmas, who flew in immediately after hearing the commotion to see what happened. I thought I was in the clear since two bad things happened to me in a span of an hour and a half-so what else could go wrong-but that was soon proven wrong when I was carrying Joe and I's pre-workout smoothie so we could get in a light workout together in the basement, and I tripped down the stairs. Not only did I spill the smoothie all over myself and the stairs, which made for an annoying clean up, but I also face planted, which made for an awesome bruise right on my jaw.
After that, I showered for the second time, drank the new smoothie Joe whipped up for the both of us, and we got in our little workout for the day. Once done with the workout, I took Tucker for a walk and went to the grocery to store to stock up on all of the necessities. While in the grocery store, I completely forgot that I was supposed to start my period, so I got blood all over my new jogging pants Joe gifted me for Christmas and had to buy a new pair of pants at the store, along with a pack of tampons, which weren't the ones I usually buy because, ironically, they were all out.
Finally, everything seemed to be going right for me and the day turned out pretty good, until it came time to get ready for Sam's party. I did my hair and my makeup without a single problem, but then of course when I put on my new dress that I was excited for, I put it on only for me to realize the zipper broke when I washed it. Because I was on my period and very hormonal, I started to cry. My mascara got all over my face and when I tried to wipe it off, my other makeup came off with it so I had to redo it all. Plus, while crying, Joe tried to comfort me, and because I was hormonal, I got mad and told him to get away from me. What made me cry more was that Since my new dress broke, I had to wear an old one that wasn't anywhere near as pretty as the other one.
So, now, as Joe pulled into the parking lot, I took a deep breath and prayed that this night wouldn't be a disaster like the whole day was. The party was at a little convention center in the middle of Cincinnati that has held frequent get togethers and parties in the past. Since this party symbolized the end of the season and it could be the last time some of the guys see each other, it was very special to so many of the guys. To make it even more memorable, Sam got Jeff Rubies to cater and he had one of his favorite bars set up a little bar. Because friends were invited as well, I was excited to see some of Sam's friends that I probably have not seen since college.
Once Joe put the car in park, he looked over at me with a sigh. Seeing him look at me in the corner of my eye, I looked over at him and we made eye contact. "Well here goes nothing, I guess. Let's hope this goes well." I said with a little defeated laugh, the both of us knowing how the day has been going for me. "Let's be optimistic, what's the worst thing that could happen, right? There's no stairs...that I know of." Joe said, and started to rack his brain in an attempt to try and remember if there are stairs at this place. I tried to remember with him, because if there were stairs, I was certainly doomed. "There aren't any stairs where the party is at-well, that we'll have to walk up anyway- there's an elevator leading up the floor we're on." I said, remembering exactly where the stairs and elevator were at.
Joe laughed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Y'know, it's kind of pitiful that we even had to think about that." Joe laughed. I laughed and nodded. It was extremely pitiful. Who would need to think about if they would have to go up stairs? Definitely not many people. "It is, but with the day I've been having, It's better to be on the safe side." I said. We chuckled a little bit together before Joe turned the car off. "Sha'll we?" Joe asked. "We sha'll." I giggled and opened up the door quickly. I stepped out of the car and then met Joe in front of the car. Because of my situation at home-having to redo my makeup-we were about 30 minutes late. Luckily Sam said not to worry because he has the place until midnight, then we're kicked out.
Joe and I walked inside together and got into the elevator. On the way up, we made funny faces in the mirror on one side of the elevator and then took a funny picture that I had to promise wouldn't be posted, which I have to do with every picture I take of him. By now, he should know I won't post them. For one, I know how private he is, and I am too, and for two, I would never share these moments with anyone, other than close friends who probably have the same kinds of pictures of him in their phones.
The elevator opened up with a little ding and revealed a huge and bustling room. People were scattered around across the whole room and there were orange, black, white, and striped decorations throughout the whole room. Immediately after hearing the elevator open up, the majority of Joe's teammates looked over to see who arrived, and when they saw Joe, they all began to hoop and holler and call out his name, excited to see him. With a smile, I let go of his hand and went to go find some of the wags, mainly Gracie and Tianna since both Holly and Morgan were out of town with their husbands.
It didn't take long for me to spot Tianna who was messing with Cody who had a far from amused look on his face. When Tianna spotted me, she immediately stopped annoying Cody and ran over to me excitedly. "Finally! It's been boring without you!" She yelled and hugged me. "Girl it's only been 30 minutes." I laughed. "Uhm...exactly." She said and emphasized it with her hands. I shook my head and laughed at her, continuing to look around at the little buffet Jeff Rubies set up and then the little bar in the far right corner. "So, what did I miss? Anything fun or crazy happen?" I asked, needing to be caught up on any of the tea that I missed while I was gone.
Tianna gave me a look and signaled for me to come and sit down at their table, so I followed. "It's not really with the team, but apparently one of Sam's friends just got cheated on. He's here and a bunch of people were talking about it when they first got here." She said. My mouth dropped open in interest and I looked round to make sure I didn't see Sam anywhere. "Who? Maybe I know him from college." I said. Tianna raised an eyebrow and looked at me with a small smile. Why was she looking at me like that? I raised my eyebrow back at her in confusion, needing her to tell me so I wasn't confused. "Did you sleep with some of Sam's friends or something?" She whispered with a little wink. "Women-shut the fuck up, she ain't like some of your friends." Cody said.
The three of us started to laugh at what Cody said, but she continued to look at me, still thinking I might've slept with some of them. "What-no, I have been with Joe since 12th grade and we didn't cheat. Now, show me." I said. "Okay okay." Tianna said quickly and began to scan the crowd to try and find whoever it was she was looking for. I looked with her and tried to see if I recognized some of the people, but I wasn't having any luck. So far, none of the people looked familiar except for the players and their wives or girlfriends. "Ooh- there." Tianna said excitedly and pointed at someone somewhat discretely so they didn't see. I followed her hand and spotted one of Sam's friends. I knew exactly who that was, and I wasn't too happy that he was here.
"I know him, that's Aiden." I said and took my eyes off of him. "Why do you say that in a bad way?" She asked me. Why was there a hint of attitude in my voice? Well, because Aiden and I were kind of friends back in college. This particular friend group of Sam's consisted of me, Joe, Sam, Jessica, todd, and Aiden. We were all good friends and always either studied together, went to football games together, or went out to parties together. From the very beginning, Aiden knew Joe and I were together and in a very closed, strong, and long-lasting relationship. But he just couldn't help himself from crushing on me. The crush got so big that he eventually confessed his feelings for me while drunk and tried to get me to cheat on Joe with him. To say he was persistent was an understatement and it happened more than once.
Of course I told Joe who told Sam. After that, Aiden didn't really hang out with us too much. "Let's just say he had a crush on me and wanted me to cheat on Joe with him." I said. Tianna let out a small gasp as she processed what I said and then looked at Aiden with a little scowl. "Well in that case, the jackass deserved it." She said with a little 'hmph'. I grabbed onto the drink I snagged from someone passing them out and held it up. "Now that's something I will fucking cheers to." I said with a little laugh. "Hell yes." Tianna picked up her glass and to her surprise, Cody picked up his as well. Tianna looked over at Cody, surprised that he was into this conversation since it was a girls conversation. "Really babe?" She asked. "Uhm...hell yes." Cody said. We all laughed a little at his reaction and then clinked our glasses together. After we clinked our glasses together, we each took a sip of our drinks.
We've been here for about an hour just hanging out with people and catching up, even though every single person that I'm good friends with on the team I've been texting. After Tianna, I made my way around to some other people before finally sitting down at a table with Ja'marr, Tee, and Sam. Joe was sitting down with us too until he left to go get him and I drinks at the bar.
"So, Mrs. burrow….” Ja'marr said and leaned back in his chair. I raised my almost empty glass to my lips and said a small, "Mr. Chase?", before taking a sip, trying to figure out what he was going to ask me. "What are the chances that baby Burrow makes an appearance this year?" Ja'marr asked me. I set my drink down and shook my head at him with a little laugh. From around the small table, Tee and Sam just listened to our conversation, who obviously were both aware of what Ja'marr was going to ask me before he said it. "Slim to none." I gave him a short and sweet answer, although I knew he would pry and want more from me. "And why is that? I mean come on, everyone else is doing it." Ja'marr said. "Unless I accidentally miss a birth control, which I never do, or by some miracle I just so happen to get pregnant, it's not gonna happen this year. Plus, I’m not everyone else." I said.
This has been an ongoing conversation between Ja'marr, Joe, and me for a while now. Ja'marr is fully convinced that it's time for Joe to knock me up, even though we disagree completely. "Come on, why? You've been married long enough." Ja'marr added in. "Some people have plans jackass." Sam added in. I looked over at Sam and pointed at him. Ding Ding Ding. "Exactly, thank you. We have had a plan for a long time, and a baby, while it's included in that plan, isn't listen for a long time." I said. Ja'marr just glared at me jokingly for a few seconds. Don't get me wrong, I wanted a baby and I would want one right now if not for football. Joe and I are at the perfect age to have children, but Joe is currently in his prime years of his career. It would be completely unfair to ask him to juggle being a new father and being an amazing quarterback all at once.
It felt like Ja'marr and I were having a staring contest. Both of us tried not to laugh or blink, until Tee interrupted. "I mean this with no disrespect, but If you don't want to get knocked up by Joe, I think that bartender over there will gladly volunteer." Tee said and signaled over to the bar. I turned my head in the direction he was signaling to. It only took me a few seconds to spot Joe who was standing at the bar. The bartender was mere inches away from a very uncomfortable looking Joe who kept trying to back away, but in a way that wasn't too noticeable. That boy was way too respectful. They were in mid conversation, and every time Joe would say something, she would laugh-a little too much- at whatever he was saying. I know Joe Burrow, and never have I once laughed that much during a simple conversation with him.
Now, unless he was making endless jokes, which I knew he wasn't because of his body language, that girl was just doing way too much. I glared at the two of them as they talked, a little annoyance and maybe anger building inside of me. I wasn't mad at Joe who was obviously trying to get away from her as she kept bombarding him. I was secure enough in my relationship with Joe, even though it took a while to get to that point. I was, however, mad at the girl who kept touching his arm and giving him flirtatious looks and laughs a little too often. Those flirty eyes were the same exact ones that I give Joe. I was mad at the girl's occasional glances at his wedding ring on his left hand that told me everything I needed to know: She was well aware that the quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals was married, but she didn't care one bit. Plus, she obviously couldn't tell when someone was uncomfortable or not feeling a conversation. She was obviously not a girl's girl. What a bitch.
As I continued to stare at the two of them and read Joes extremely uncomfortable body language, Joe glanced over at me. We made eye contact and immediately after, Joe's eyes widened and he sucked in his lips a little. I smiled a little bit at his plea for help and how much he was practically begging for me to go over and help him. I looked over at the guys sitting at the table who were just watching me and then Joe, interested in what was going on. "You know, girls are bitches. Excuse me, while I go save my husband." I said and scooted my chair back. "You need our help with the clean up job?" Jamar asked. "You can keep her body in my car." Sam added in. I rolled my eyes jokingly and stood up with a laugh. I headed over to save Joe from this awful conversation he was having.
While I walked over to Joe, he glanced over at the table again, but when he saw me, his face immediately lit up and he smiled slightly. The girl, seeing Joe's facial expression from his side profile, looked over to see what he was looking at. As soon as she saw me walking over, I could tell she had absolutely no idea who I was or that I was even married to joe. In her eyes, I was just another person that had a crush on Joe, like her. That still didn't change the fact that she could still flirt and give my husband the 'fuck me eyes', all while knowing he was married. Now I'm not usually one to come out and say that a girl's being a bitch, because I get it, we all have our own problems that we're dealing with, but I mean come on, to flirt with an obvious married man? Now thats low.
I looked down at Joes hands and saw the two drinks in his hand. One of the drinks was a whiskey and the other was a vodka spritzer. Perfect. Once I got to Joe, He looked down at me with his best 'thank you' eyes and handed me the drink. I grabbed the vodka spritzer in one hand, and with the other, I wrapped it around Joes waist and kissed his shoulder. "Thanks babe." I said, the both of us knowing damn well that I never call him babe-But maybe I should, because Joe's cheeks flushed red when I said it- and I knew Joe wasn't a fan of PDA but figured it was needed given the situation he was in. He never has been and he probably never will be. The only time he's fine with it is with close friends or family, so certainly not here with prying eyes. "Of course." Joe said, going along with what I was doing. After I kissed Joes shoulder and smiled up at him, I looked over towards the girl who realized who I was. Did you seriously think his wife wasn't here and watching you? Unreal.
Going along with the part, I held out my hand a little bit out of politeness and acted sorry that I interrupted their conversation. "Oh my-I am so sorry that I interrupted,” I said and then introduced myself, “and you are?" I asked, Looking down at her name tag. I read the name, 'Caitlyn'. Caitlyn knew exactly what I was doing and I could tell by her facial expression that she wasn't enjoying it one bit. "I'm Caitlyn, it's nice to meet you. We were just finishing up our conversation, you weren't interrupting." She said. I flashed a small smile her way and nodded. "Well good, I would've felt terrible. It was nice meeting you, but we should really go find Ja'marr." I said and looked up at Joe, tapping his back a little bit. Joe straightened up and nodded, "yeah-right, it was nice talking to you." Joe said.
We both started to walk away, though I could tell she was staring at us as we left. The audacity of some people is wild. "You are a literal saint, I love you so much. That was horrendous." Joe said as we walked to our table. I began to laugh as we reached our table. "Y'know, fuck her. She knew you were married and still flirted with you, why didn't you leave you pussy?” I joked with him. "I tried, but she kept talking and flirting with me to the point where I felt like I would be rude leaving her and then a news article would come out titled, 'Joe Burrow turned down talking with a fan, what a loser.'" Joe said with a laugh. The both of us laughed as we reached our table. “She can stay jealous.” I laughed. The three of them just looked at Joe and I before Tee spoke up, "wow, she’s like your knight in shining armor brother.”
"Shut up, he was just trying to be polite, some girls just Don't know how to keep their hands off of handsome men that aren't theirs." I said with a 'hmph' and a laugh after sitting down in my chair. Joe followed after me and sat down right next to me in his chair. I leaned in closer to Joe as he put one arm around my chair and sipped his drink. "There Ain't nothin' handsome about Joey B." Ja'marr said, messing with Joe like he always does. Speak for yourself. I looked over to the most handsome man here as he laughed and said, "At least I ain't as ugly as your ass." The whole table laughed as we listened to Ja'marr and Joe joke around back and forth about who the better looking one was.
Other than the incident with the bartender, the night was going pretty well. We were all talking, drinking, and having an amazing time. At one point, all of the D-linemen and O-linemen had a little game of who was the strongest, which was extremely entertaining to watch. The whole time they were competing, Joe was cracking up laughing, and not just the belly laugh. He threw his head back, his eyes were sealed shut, and he could barely breathe. It was like a breath of fresh air to see Joe having an amazing time after such a stressful and uncertain season; the injury.
Currently, I just got done in the bathroom and was walking back to the table we were sitting at. I barely got in 2 steps before I heard a voice I haven't heard in years call out my name. Everything in me told me to just keep walking and pretend like I didn't hear him, but out of politeness, I stopped and looked over at him. "Wow...I haven't seen you in forever. I was hoping I'd see you here." Aiden said. I gave him a small smile and walked over to him so we didn't have to speak too loudly. Hopefully he just wanted to say hi and let me go, or maybe even apologize for trying to get me to cheat on Joe, multiple times. Without me expecting it, he took a step closer, closing the distance between us, and wrapped his arms around me before I could even get in a word.
"Uhh...yeah, it had been a while." I laughed awkwardly as we separated. Aiden kept smiling down at me like he was looking at someone he is really good friends with but hasn't seen in a while. Don't get me wrong, we used to be friends and haven't seen each other in a while, but to want to talk to me and act like nothing went down just felt wrong and uncomfortable. "It's so good to see you, Mrs. Burrow." He said with a big smile. "It's good to see you too." I lied to him with a fake smile, unable to muster up a real one. Right after I said this, he took a step forwards, if that was even possible, making me uncomfortable and making this whole situation awkward, at least for me. I watched him as he smirked a little bit. You better not try something.
I took a step back for comfort and was about to excuse myself when he said, "you look beautiful, even more so than back in college." I furrowed my eyebrows a little bit, disgusted and appalled that even after what went down at college that he could still be face to face with me and try the same things as he did back then. One of his hands found my side and his fingers danced over my hip bone. "Joe wouldn't have any issue if we hung out for a bit, right?" He asked. Don't react, just let Joe handle it. The last thing I wanted to do was create a scene here and draw attention to myself and Aiden. I scoffed a little bit, not able to hide my disgust and disappointment any longer. "It's funny how even after I rejected you in college, you still have the balls to do it again. If I wouldn't cheat on Joe back then, what makes you think I'll do it now?" I asked him, but he still didn't take his hand off of my waist. "Oh come on, don't be like that." He said. I looked down at his hand and then tried to look past him in an attempt to see if Joe was at the table, but he was blocking my view.
All of a sudden, I saw Joe walking over to us, looking as pissed as ever. His fists and jaw were both clenched in anger. I breathed a sigh of relief that he was here so neither of us could cause a scene and draw attention to ourselves. "Get your fucking hand off of my wife." Joe said, putting one of his hands on the small of my back. I looked at Joe and gave him a little nod of assurance before looking at aiden whose eyes grew 10 times bigger once he realized Joe watched the entire thing, and his hand slid off of my waist. I watched as Aiden’s shoulders fell in submission and embarrassement, obviously thinking he was going to get away with flirting with me and putting his hand on me even after what happened in college.
"I-I-" Aiden began to say. "What? You Didn't think I'd see you flirt with my wife? Come on man, you're not that stupid." Joe said and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing so tightly that aiden winced a little bit. "I was just trying to catch up with her, that's all." He said. I backed up a little bit and stood next to Joes side. I glanced around us a little bit to see if anyone knew what was going on, but nobody even looked at us. Everyone was just caught up in their own conversations. Thank god. "How dumb do you think I am, Aiden?" Joe asked. Aiden swallowed hard and shook his head. "Look man, I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I'll leave.." He said. "You're damn right it won't. Now, you can stay if you want, I won't tell Sam because I know he likes you-Why, I honestly have no clue-but I don’t want to ruin that. But, if you do stay, I don't want to see you near her again. Better yet, I don't even want you to look at her," joe said, and waited for a response, and when it didn't come, he added in, "you got it?" Aiden, who was obviously embarrassed, nodded quickly and said, "Yes sir."
With that, Joe nodded, took a step back from him, and began to turn slightly. Following his lead, I walked by his side and then we walked back with each other to our table that was now empty. This day just kept getting better and better. First it was the cat poop, which I wasn't even too mad about, but then one thing led to another and both Joe and I had someone flirt with us...and the both of them knew we were married. As we walked, I shook my head and sighed a little bit, just wanting this whole day to be over. Once we found our table, the both of us just sat down. "I'm sorry, baby. I cannot believe that fucker had the balls to do that for the second time. I couldn't stand to see his hand on your body, especially when you were so uncomfortable with him in the first place." Joe said.
"Hey, listen to me, Aiden is a jackass, I love you, and I'm all yours. Y'know, I hope he looks at us so he can be jealous of what he'll never have." I said with a smile and shrugged my shoulders. Joe just looked down at me and smiled. It was weird telling Joe that I was his, but I liked it. Normally there are people all over throwing themselves at Joe or accusing him of cheating to try and destroy our relationship, so telling him that I was all his felt... exhilarating, in a way. I was all his. He was all mine. And nothing or nobody could change that. Ever. I couldn't help but notice the little smirk that was growing on Joes face in place of his smile and I knew he liked when I said that I was all his. "Mmm, say that again." Joe said hummed quietly. I giggled a little bit at his reaction and said, "I'm all yours. And by the way, that whole thing with Aiden was really hot. Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.”
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snakebite (arthur morgan x f/reader) oneshot
summary: you get bitten by a snake and arthur has to suck the venom out... what could go wrong?
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“Shit…” You cursed under your breath, clutching at your thigh as you fought to push down the pain of the snake’s venom coursing through your veins. It was a deep bite, and you barely caught a glimpse of the thing before it slithered away. But the throbbing in your flesh was enough to know it was venomous.
Your horse had gotten spooked by the snake and bucked you off, fleeing for the treeline. The wind was knocked out of you as you hit the ground and unfortunately landed right on top of the reptile. Deciding it had had enough, it lunged and bit your thigh, rightfully so. Its fangs shot through the material of your skirt and bloomers, down into your muscle. 
Thankfully, Arthur wasn’t too far behind.
“What the hell?” He asked as he pulled his horse to a stop, seemingly confused by your horse running off and finding you lying on your back in the grass.
You were lightheaded. Nauseous. “A damn snake bit me.” In an effort to sit up, you pressed down harder on your bite, hoping to at least slow the venom as it seeped further into you.
What an embarrassing way to go. Especially in front of Arthur, of all people. 
“Christ.” He said, quickly stepping down from his horse. He made his way over to you as you managed to sit up against a tree, breaking out into a sweat. 
“I don’t feel too good.”
Arthur knelt down to your level, his eyes scanning yours with a sudden urgency that made your throat close up. “Don’t look too good ‘neither.” 
“Thanks.” You chuckled.
He reached forward and felt your forehead with the back of his hand, and your heart fluttered in your chest.
Even on your deathbed, you could not suppress your lasting crush on Arthur Morgan. Pathetic.
“Where’d it getcha?” He asked, looking down to where your hand clutched your leg. 
You lifted your hand, “My thigh.”
“Okay…” He thought for a quick moment, scooting closer to you. “Lift your skirt up.”
You froze, swallowing thickly with your dry mouth. “I- Alright.”
Trying to ignore his wording and the pit in your stomach, you did as he said, pulling your linen skirt up to expose the small patch of blood on your white bloomers. 
Without a word, Arthur grabbed the fabric, pulling at the holes where the small fangs had broken through, and ripped them wide, exposing the wound. 
“What are you doing?”
“Gettin’ the venom out.”
You blinked, feeling the warm pads of his fingers brush your skin. “How?”
His hand reached under your knee, pulling your leg up, and you nearly flinched. Not because you were scared, but because you didn’t want him to know how much you liked it. 
His eyes darted up to yours. “I gotta suck it out.”
You took a sharp breath in, adjusting your body awkwardly. “Oh.”
Then, as quickly as he had ripped your bloomers apart, he bent down, gripping your thigh tightly as he brought his mouth to your bite. 
And it stung like all hell. He created a suction and you felt as if you were being bitten all over again, a searing pain overcoming the area as you gasped. 
But there was still something very erotic about all of this. And you scolded yourself for thinking it. If someone were to pass by, they would see a cowboy with his head buried in your lap, and that brought a blush to your cheeks as he pulled away, turning to the side and spitting the venom out into the grass.
When he went back in, it hurt even worse, the numbness from your adrenaline wearing off. He sucked especially hard, and you grit your teeth, instinctively reaching forward and grabbing his arm. “Arthur–”
He pulled away again, spitting into the grass. When he turned back, he looked at you, his eyes strangely dark and his brow furrowed in concentration. Why was his face so close to yours? Maybe it was the venom. It had gotten to your head. Your skin was heating up, and your heart pounded hard in your ribcage. His hands were on your thigh, your fingers digging into the arm of his shirt, and you only stared back at him.
He broke the eye contact and went back down, this time only sucking lightly. You assumed he had gotten what he could out of your body. But your belly was warm and you felt the overwhelming urge to get closer to him, your body pulsing with pain and… arousal.
You pressed your lips together in pain, and when he sucked one last time, a whimper fell from your lips. But he didn’t suck anything out of you like he did before. His lips were on your skin and then they weren’t, and then they were back, landing higher up your thigh. Your hand loosened on his bicep and you didn’t know why, but you started rubbing him with your thumb. 
You couldn’t see his face under the brim of his hat, but you felt him move his mouth higher, his teeth grazing you and his beard scratching against your skin. It tickled. His fingers dug into your thigh, and you drew in a breath, a suspenseful silence overtaking you.
A sudden bravery took over your body. You scooted closer to him, and he moved even further up, his lips pressing lightly against your skin. Was he… kissing you?
You swallowed when his nose brushed your inner thigh. And then you spread your knees further apart.
Any pain you had was replaced with the burning ache for him to touch you. 
“Arthur.” You finally got the willpower to croak out his name, but you didn’t know what else to say. You said his name like a question, but also like a request. A demand. Like you wanted him to stop, but you also never wanted him to stop.
He halted anyway, lifting his lips from your skin, the coolness of the breeze on it telling you that you were wet with his saliva. He didn’t look up. He kept his face hidden by the brim of his hat. 
You could slice the tension in the air with your knife. But why would you want to? You had been waiting for a moment like this for the entire time you had known him.
He was always shy, and barely ever spoke about how he felt. You figured you would have to make some move or give him some hint… but now, at such an inopportune time… he seemed to want something from you too.
Were you drunk on adrenaline and snake venom? Probably. Was he taking advantage of you in a vulnerable state? Maybe. 
You lifted your leg, shuffling even closer. You couldn’t speak. And neither could he. But somehow there was this silent agreement that you both wanted something. You lifted your skirt higher, and he finally looked up at you.
He almost looked like a different man. His jaw was clenched, his pupils large and his eyes burning into yours like a wolf hunting its prey. There was a smudge of your blood on his bottom lip.
You nodded. Please don’t stop.
With just as much urgency as he had when trying to potentially save your life, he quickly reached for the waist of your bloomers and pulled them down. If it had been any other man in any other scenario, you would have hidden yourself in embarrassment and covered your eyes so you didn’t have to see him see you.
But it was Arthur. And he was quickly lifting your legs, pulling your hips up and closer to him, and burying his face in between them. He didn’t have time to take it slow, and you didn’t care, your insides pulsing and your face going hot. Your bloomers were still around your ankles, and his hat was still hiding his face as his breath was on your cunt. 
You lay back against the tree and he dove into you, his tongue exploring you aggressively, drinking you in with such passion you thought you might pass out. It suddenly occurred to you as you cried out that you were only meters away from the dirt road, barely hidden by the grass. Now, if someone passed by, it would look like you had a cowboy’s face in your lap because… you did.
Your hand flew to your mouth when he began to suck on you, those same lips that had just been sucking snake venom out of your leg moments prior. Your thighs clenched around his head, threatening to knock his hat off, but you kind of liked it on. He couldn’t see you, and you couldn’t see him. There was some level of anonymity to this act, like maybe for just a moment you could be different people and not have to deal with the aftermath of your actions.
But fuck, he was good. It made you question if he had been practicing on someone. Who had he been practicing on? He could practice on you for the rest of your life if he wanted.
You bucked your hips into his mouth when he groaned into you, already finding yourself nearing your breaking point. His tongue was rough but rhythmic, and it was so quiet outside you could hear the squelching of your wetness against his mouth. 
The feeling was building up inside you. You were floating, you were grinding yourself on his nose. Your eyes darted to your snake bite, red and swollen, and to your torn bloomers around your ankles, and to Arthur’s arms holding your legs as he bent over, doing something fucking incredible with his tongue.
You cried out as you came in his mouth, your hand finding his forearm, digging your nails into it. Your back arched and your hips bucked, shuddering with the feeling of it. He groaned into your core, seemingly just as pleased to feel you come as you were to come, and he slowly let you ride it out.
Catching your breath, you looked around, slowly coming back into yourself and realizing where you were. What you both had done.
Arthur’s grip on your legs slowly loosened, and when he pulled away from you, his eyes avoided yours. He lifted your leg and untangled himself from you and your bloomers. You wanted to rip his hat off and look at him. You wanted to kiss him. To taste yourself on his lips.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”
You sat up, your bare ass scraping against the dirt. And you couldn’t help but laugh. 
Sorry? He was apologizing? Like he didn’t know what came over him. Like he couldn’t help but make me come on his tongue. A simple mistake. Oops. You laughed harder, pulling your bloomers up. The pain of your bite suddenly came back to you, and you winced as the fabric rubbed against it. 
He finally looked up at you from under the brim of his hat as you managed to get your bloomers back up. Then he let out a chuckle.
You wanted to return the favour. You sat up and were about to reach for him, grab him and touch him and maybe provide him with an ounce of the pleasure he just gave you, but suddenly a voice came from the road.
“What the–”
You and Arthur both quickly looked up, seeing a man on his horse staring at the two of you with confusion. 
You were still flushed, and coated in a sheen of sweat, and your skirt was pulled up as Arthur knelt beside you. Oddly enough, it actually was exactly what it looked like.
“Snakebite.” You fought your smile, looking down at your leg as you spoke to the man.
Arthur nodded, “Had to… suck the venom out–” He stood up, and you noticed the bulge in his pants. Thankfully, he turned away from the man before he noticed. 
“We should get you to a doctor,” Arthur said, reaching his hand out to you as if nothing had happened. You were still burning from your orgasm, but you pushed your skirt down and grabbed his hand, allowing him to pull you up.
“Well,” The man cleared his throat. “Good luck, then.”
###
You both rode back to camp in silence. 
You wanted to pretend nothing happened, but you couldn’t help but watch Arthur keep adjusting himself in the saddle, clearly uncomfortable with how hard he was. To be honest, you had never experienced a man do something like that and not expect you to return the favour. But, you liked the idea of it, the taste of you in his mouth making him harder than ever. It clearly wasn’t going away, either, because he probably couldn’t stop thinking about it.
You smiled, kicking your horse to ride up next to him. “Need a little help there?” Your eyes flicked down his body, and he looked at you out of the corner of his eye. His cheeks were adorably red, and he looked away again. 
“Let’s just get back to camp, first.” He reached down and moved his belt slightly, trying to ease the pressure. “Make sure you ain’t dyin’ on us.”
You smirked. “And what if I am?”
“Then we’ll need to work fast.” He shot you a look.
You felt your cheeks go just as red as his. “I can do fast.”
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aliciaasky · 1 day
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It was love
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Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Reader
Warnings: Anakin is a senator here, not a Jedi. fluff turning to angst, wrong choices (that’s basically it.)
Summary: Anakin Skywalker, the senator of Tatooine, has to marry. Unfortunately, it happens to be the senator of Aldeeran, not of Naboo. He can never grow to love you, can he?
A/n: this is literally my first post ever and I would appreciate feedback + English isn’t my first language so spread love <3
Anakin was fucking pissed. An arranged marriage? He was the senator of Tatooine not the fucking prince that he needed to be married right now. But his parents thought it was a good idea for him to be married to another senator. The wedding was yesterday, and he had to admit, you were beautiful, breathtakingly so. But he was in love with Padmé, and that since he was 9 years old and saw her for the first time. He instantly knew it was love.
Now he had been married to the senator of Aldeeran for two days, and you were actually pleasant to be around, you were nice and friendly and just over all a ray of sunshine. You tried your best to make the marriage work and he could see that, but his heart yearned for Padmé, it always had. He couldn’t possibly start liking someone else, it would be betrayal, even if the pretty senator of Naboo didn’t even feel the same. His feelings were very much real.
Yet a few months into their marriage, Anakin felt himself starting to warm up a little. You always waited for him at home after he had a long day and he was immediately greeted by a comforted hug and a few kisses on his face
“Oh Ani, long day?“ you had asked, cradling his face lovingly ”it’s okay, I made you lasagna, that’s your favorite right?“ Truthfully, you fell for him, fast and hard. He was already your husband so there was no shame in loving him, right? You had thought he was starting to fall in love too, he always reciprocated your kisses and always stroked your hair when going to sleep.
“Ani?“ you asked gently when laying in bed. „Hm?“ he quietly hummed back, “do you love me?“ you asked with the slightest fear in your voice. There were a few moments of silence
“Of course.“
A few more months later, surprisingly, Padmé, after seeing him getting married, started falling for him too. She wasn’t even trying to hide it. Anakin had yearned for her love for so long, he didn’t even hesitate when she kissed him, and asked him to divorce you. She was a senator after all, so his parents would approve.
He felt bad, truly. But he just couldn’t bring himself to love you, no matter how much and how long he tried. You weren’t the problem, there was nothing wrong with you, it just.. wasn’t there. The feeling he had when he had first seen Padmé on Tatooine all those years ago, it wasn’t there when he was with you. Sure he felt loved and sure he felt warmth, but it just wasn’t the same.
He dreaded the talk with you, you were truly a sweetheart and despite not being in love with you, he still loved you. You were always so attentive, so loving and just so so pure.
“We need to talk.“ Anakin started, looking deep into your eyes. “Ani!“ you beamed, immediately running into his arms, ”how was your day?“
Anakin swallowed hard, looking into her eyes. So full of love. “Look, I love you-“ Anakin started “I love you too!“ you immediately beamed as you interrupted him. “But I’m not in love with you, I’m in love with someone else.“ he finished with a heavy heart. He knew you loved him, but hearing you say that in this right exact moment, made his heart drop.
Your face immediately fell, „what do you mean? Ani, don’t make jokes like that.“ you swallowed, trying to laugh and brush it off like it was just a joke. It was a joke, it had to be a joke, you were so happy together.
“it isn’t you.. it‘s me. I never loved you the way I love her. I tried-“ he swallowed “I really did.“
And you didn’t even have to ask who he was talking about.
You swallowed „so it is me, you can’t love me.“ she sniffles “how could this happen? We were.. we were fine! You can’t joke about something like that!“ you said desperate, your pretty face already filled with tears. Anakin just gently shakes his head, looking at you with pure pity.
”She makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.. I’ve loved her since I was a young boy, she was the whole reason I started being interested in politics. She’s my soulmate I just know it. Please understand.“ Anakin begs you and you just sniffle as you trie to stifle your sobs. You didn’t want him to feel bad, it wasn’t his fault after all.
“I want you to be happy, ani. Even if it’s not with me.“ you sniffle and Anakin tears up. You were so sweet and you deserved so so so much better than him. You hug him tightly and whisper reassurances into his ear. He knew you were heartbroken, but you still tried to make sure he wasn’t feeling too guilty.
And boy were you heartbroken. Your parents were proud of you, for once in your whole entire life. They were pleased that you seemed to hold the marriage, they were proud of you for making it work. What would they say now, especially if they hear the reason?
Especially if they see Anakin’s wedding to Padmé and they will know he divorced you for another woman. But you loved him, and you wanted his happiness.
Seeing him so heartbroken made you want to stay strong for him, made you want to comfort him. Even though you were the one who needed comfort, you were the one being divorced for someone else. Someone who was “just an old friend, baby. Don’t think to much into it.“
You had packed all your stuff with Anakin helping you gently. “I‘m just.. I‘m sorry, I wish it was different. I wish-“ the last words hanging in the air, unspoken.
But you knew what he meant. He wished he could’ve loved you. “Me too.“ your face lighting up at the thought.
He sighed, knowing you‘re dreaming of the "what if" right now, in an alternate universe where things were different.
But things weren't different here, and that was painful. That was reality.
You didn't deserve the pain he was causing you, you deserved to go find someone who would actually love you.
When you finished packing, you stood up “i’ll be going back to Aldeeran.“ you said softly “I have to talk to my parents and figure everything out.“
He gave her a weak smile, he hated the thought of her leaving. But it was for the best. "Okay," he agreed softly, giving you a last look. He didn’t know it, but anyone else could’ve seen it, would’ve seen it. The look of longing in his eyes.
You gently take his hands and place your wedding ring into his hands, then she closes them tightly together and give his hands a light kiss “I won’t ever forget you ani.“ you stroked his cheek, your tears running freely now.
He looked down at your gesture for a moment before meeting your eyes, ”i will never forget you either.“ and he meant it, he didn’t know it yet, but he had meant it.
You gently made your way to the door, looking around, desperately trying to burn every detail of your once shared apartment into your head before leaving.
The sight of you, the one he had married, staring at the apartment, trying to remember every single detail in case you never saw it again, was heartbreaking for him.
He almost regretted it, almost wanted to take it all back...But he couldn't, he'd made his choice. And he couldn’t go back, his love for Padmé overthrowing it all.
When you had reached the door, being completely sure that every detail of your home was etched into your mind, you turned around and opened the door “i love you, i pray you never forget that.“ and with that you close the door behind you, leaving everything behind, including your now ex husband.
He should be celebrating, he had gotten what he wanted, he was free to marry the girl he had always wanted, and he wouldn’t even disappoint his parents! So why did he feel so empty?
A few days later Anakin and Padmé married. It was a grand ceremony, Anakin had previously planned it this huge to show his love for her. To show the appreciation for finally giving him a chance after all this time.
But right now, right in this moment, he can’t feel anything. He heard the preachers words, he knows his words about love were true. But why wasn’t he thinking about Padmé, the one standing in the white wedding dress, right in front of him?
“Love is friendship, Love is warmth and a feeling of comfort. Love is acceptance and understanding. Love is knowing that you will be comfortable with this person for the rest of your life-“ the preacher spoke
He knew it was his turn soon, his turn to say yes to the woman he has dreamt of for years.
„i do!“ Padmé replied whole heartedly
Anakin‘s mind drifted towards you, the woman he had left behind. And now, right now, on his wedding day, when he felt his heavy heart over your departure, when he felt the tears stinging at his eyes over the thought of marrying someone else, when he yearned to run away and take the next ship to Aldeeran,
he knew it.
It was love, and it had been all along.
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Brand New One Shot - Second Preview
I cooked a little :3c
Warning for masturbation!
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You made your way up to his tower, replaying the scene in the lobby over and over in your head. Things were going well, weren’t they? He seemed so apologetic when you told him how you felt. And then he just…disappeared like he always does. You really didn’t mean to push the issue, but perhaps you came on a little strong. Plus your rescue of him was a little more than awkward. Not that you minded the closeness, even if it was fleeting. The picture of his head resting against your chest flashed in your mind repeatedly. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks once more as you were now mere steps from Lucifer’s door.
Focus, you mentally scolded yourself, can’t think about that. It was an accident! It won’t happen again so just…focus. No wonder he ran!
You stood in front of his door now, your knees somehow weaker than they were a moment ago. Those mental images really didn’t help at all. With a deep inhale, you went to knock, but you stopped short when you heard something from beyond the door. You heard your name.
What?, you thought, How…How did he know I was here? Lucifer didn’t sound angry fortunately, but the inflection in his voice made him sound almost sad. And…breathless? You cracked open the door slowly, a little embarrassed at being caught. You went to open your mouth to apologize for the intrusion, but not even a whisper left your lips. Because what you saw in that room left you completely and utterly frozen where you stood.
Lucifer, the great ruler of Hell, was propped up against the obscene amount of pillows on his bed with his pants pooled at his ankles, his very much erect dick in his hand. His eyes were shut, he hadn’t seen you catch him in this extremely vulnerable state.
Run, run, run, RUN! your mind screamed. Everything in your brain was telling you to shut that door and get out of there as fast as you could. But your body refused to react, you remained motionless. You were completely entranced by the scene before you. You watched as Lucifer stroked his cock, mumbling a number of curse words with your name leaving his lips like a prayer.
“Hnng, G-God damn it-ffffuuuccckk….” Lucifer mumbled, his hand gradually picking up the pace as he stoked his shaft.
You tried to wrap your head around what you were seeing, but you were coming up blank. You couldn't believe this. He’s…He’s touching himself…to me?!? How is this…? Why would he…? Your brain was a jumbled mess at this point. It was really beyond your comprehension. You felt tension pool in your stomach at the sight of him becoming undone at the mere thought of you. The sinful sounds he was making went straight between your thighs, to the point where it became uncomfortable that you weren’t giving yourself any attention. The tiniest bit of you wanted to push open that door and give him what he really desired. But before you even begin to think about acting on your carnal instincts, you watched Lucifer's hips bucked up as he came all over his hand. It took every fiber of your being to hold in a whimper that threatened to escape your throat.
Lucifer’s breathing was labored, you watched him toss his arm over his eyes and throw his head back on the pillows. "What the hell is wrong with me?!" you heard him ask. "Why am I doing this?! It’s been months now and I’ve barely had a normal conversation with her! And of course the only time I’ve really talked to her was after my damn head was forced against her…her…s-shit.” He waved his hand, a tissue appearing between his fingers. You watched as he cleaned himself up, thankful that he still hadn’t looked towards his door. Lucifer kicked himself out of his pant and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his head hanging low. “And what an absolutely fantastic exit I made! “Sorry, gotta go! My dick is hard as a rock right now because of you!” Great job, Lucifer! No wonder she thinks I don’t want her here!” He sighed heavily. “I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t right. I need to stop being a coward and just tell her how she makes me feel…”
A small gasp escaped your lips. Fuck.
Lucifer's head shot up immediately, his panicked eyes fixating on the door. You didn't even close it behind you as you took off sprinting down the hall, praying to anyone who could hear you that he didn't see you. You didn’t stop running til you made it back to your room, slamming the door behind you. Your knees gave out from under you as you dropped to the floor. In that second, it all clicked for you. Why Lucifer seemed to avoid you at every turn, why he tripped over his words when he spoke to you, and why he practically begged you not to leave the hotel.
Lucifer liked you. Lucifer really liked you. That thought alone could have made you scream if you weren’t trying desperately to hold yourself together. And it’s not like you didn’t have passing thoughts about him. He was gorgeous, after all. But not only that, you saw how he acted with the others at the hotel. He was sweet, and silly, and fun, even though you never got to experience it first hand. Now you knew where Charlie had gotten it from.
But of course those thoughts never stayed. He didn’t like you, right? So instead of wallowing in what could never be, you thought it best not to dwell. But now…now those thoughts were coming back in full force. The aching between your legs only grew as the very fresh images of Lucifer naked and moaning in his bed flooded your mind.
There was a knock at the door.
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hrts4scarr · 1 day
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ᯓ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ⑅ walk him like a dog 2 ✯ jb22 .ᐟ.ᐟ
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★ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃﹕﹙ yes/no ﹚ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘﹕﹙in which sebastian vettels sister gets her dream job to work along with him, but stumbles across an infamous playboy﹚ — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒﹕﹙purpose use of lowercase letters only, not sure if there's gonna be another part, use of y/n, black-cat!reader, golden-retriever-ish!jenson, past-playboy!jenson, lowkey-past-toxic!jenson, VERYY light angst [i think], probably not well proofread, lmk if there's anything i missed!!﹚ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆﹕﹙jenson button 22 x f!vettel!reader﹚ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓﹕﹙icba checking but it's not much at all imooo fjdkjfdsjfkla﹚ ★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙part two who cheered !?﹚
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˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ — ꒰previous // last work // pinned post // masterlist // taglist // rules // next ꒱
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JENSON COULDN'T HELP BUT look at the red bull racer's sister eating her lunch with some of her co-workers. she fit right in and right away, even only after a week. she was smiling. oh, her smile. it was different than how she smiled with her brother. how jenson would do anything to make her smile that genuine smile she had with her brother.
"staring at my sister, huh?"
jenson whipped his head around to see sebastian vettel. he opens his mouth then closes it as he sees the fellow driver's raised eyebrows.
sebastian's cold face cracks into a grin. he throws his head back and laughs. "you should have seen the look on your face!"
jenson grumbles under his breath.
"alright, all jokes aside, please don't play with my sisters heart." sebastian puts a hand on jenson's shoulder.
"why would i ever-" jenson starts as he looks at him, but seb raises his eyebrows.
jenson purses his lips. "i.. alright, maybe you're right and i'm sorry."
seb sighs softly. "i'm just looking out for my sister, alright? i love her very much, with all my heart. i don't want to see it broken. i don't want to see *her* broken. just please, promise me."
"i promise." jenson nods sternly.
days after days, you and jenson had formed a friendly and healthy relationship, in which you both hoped would never be ruined. every time you laughed or smiled, you didn't know the thoughts lingering behind the eyes that shined when you did so. you've opened up more and more, finally showing the fun side of you.
jenson hoped to keep it that way. he hoped that your friendship would never be ruined. he'd never felt this way before, and he didn't know whether you felt the same way or not. being the infamous playboy he was, of course he didn't want to break your heart like he did to the other girls. he made a promise to your brother, a promise he could and would never break. you were too dear to him, too precious. he didn't want to break you. he vowed to, with all his life and heart, and he would never admit that to anyone or to himself.
so from then on, he kept it a secret. a secret he couldn't bear. and little did he know, that you on the other hand, was starting to catch feelings too. and you would never admit that to yourself either.
you both had fallen too hard to ever want to break your relationship. your personalities might be polar opposites, but the way you both want to keep your loved ones close and protected was a trait you shared.
jenson, the infamous playboy he was known as, obviously had toyed with a 'few' girls hearts. he's not one to think before he acts. he's the outgoing, social golden retriever.
you were oftenly known is the black cat, and the studiouss quiet kid. you were known by everyone, but not exactly popular. you plan out your movements carefully, always one step ahead. perfect match, honestly.
but further more, jenson made you feel special. you wanted to deny that feeling that made you think, 'he probably gives this treatment to every girl.' but oh, how you were wrong.
he would never offer to carry an item that weighed less than a pound for the 'other' girls. ("here, let me help you with that." "jenson, i can carry it, it's fine!! it's literally just a-" "no, please just let me help." and of course you had to give in to those helpless eyes. that effect he had on you made you weak in the knees.) he would never buy the 'other' girls special and thoughtful gifts. ("please, darling, this is my treat." "but jens-" "i said it once and ill say it again. my. treat.") he would never follow those 'other' girls around like he did to you, like a dog on a leash. ("walk him like a dog." seb snorted. "shut up!!" you muttered, feeling your cheeks get slightly red. jenson rolled his eyes, continuing to follow you neverless.)
it was never those 'other' girls, who he never even talked to anymore ever since he had met you. it's always been you. and from then, it would never change.
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★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙i MIGHTTT take some blurb and part requests for this series, so ill lyk if i do!!﹚ ౨ৎ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓﹕﹙@gray4youuu @c-losur3 @ujws5 @namgification @faithshouseofchaos @isurvived3-11andimproud @somebodyonce-toldme @44lewico﹚
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˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ — ꒰previous // last work // pinned post // masterlist // taglist // rules // next ꒱
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notes, comments, reblogs, feedback and follows are greatly appriciated!
!! PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON OTHER WEBISTES/APPS OR COPY MY ORIGINAL WORK !!
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comradekatara · 2 days
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i don’t normally do this here, but i’m answering this ask anonymously to respect op’s wishes. it’s a very interesting question!
i think the tragedy of yun is fascinating because in many ways it explores the central tension of korra’s arc, but then also magnifies it by revealing that this aspect of his identity which he assumed ontologically elevated him is actually a lie. he’s literally just some guy.
korra grapples with what it means to define her humanity and her agency beyond the box into which she is forced due to her status, but at least she has the luxury of actually being as powerful as everyone assumes her to be. and obviously, this can only really be considered a luxury when compared to yun, because he is cruelly and ruthlessly dismissed and dehumanized once no longer deemed “special.”
he serves no value to the world, to jianzhu’s ends, if he is not the avatar, and so his tragedy lies in the fact that if he cannot live as a fraud, he must be disposed of. he was never simply treated as a human being, because his father figure only actually cared about him as a means to an end, and his friend kyoshi is also the reason he has been so suddenly and violently stripped of value.
there’s this idea that yun seeks revenge because he feels entitled to power and deserving of his status, that he feels that kyoshi was better as his demure servant, and that for kyoshi to be the avatar he always believed himself to be is a perversion of the order he feels owed.
but of course he feels entitled to that power. he was groomed since childhood to be the avatar, and his alternative to that power is living on the street an orphaned child making money off of performing pai sho tricks. and it’s not that he simply basked in this power; no, he took this responsibility very seriously. he was jianzhu’s perfect protege, and so he tied his identity to being the avatar to the point that he had nothing left to give beyond that role.
just because he’s in the wrong doesn’t mean that his pain isn’t understandable, imo. like, just put yourself in his shoes. everything he ever thought he knew was revealed to be a lie, and he was left for dead in a matter of seconds. no one gave him a reason to pause, to consider an alternative. even kyoshi simply told him to let go of his pain, which of course would be an infuriating piece of advice to hear from the person who “won.” even if it’s not her intention, by telling him, essentially, to “get over it,” to simply move on from this existentially significant, defining injustice, she does sound like she’s gloating.
no one ever bothered to put themselves in his shoes, no one ever offered him true empathy. i don’t believe that yun was an entitled brat. i think that, like korra, he was someone who was depersonalized in his role, his image so heavily controlled by outside forces that he lost any sense of identity beyond that role, and was discarded once he could no longer perform it.
to swallow an eye — to reclaim the violence of that dehumanizing gaze, but also to consume it, to internalize it, to project it outwards — was always his fate. so no, i don’t think that there was any way to save him. he was marked for death the moment he was first misidentified as the avatar. his demise was inevitable, because it was born of human error; no one learns anything from their predecessors’ mistakes, they simply repeat the cycle. like all true tragedies, his destiny was fixed for him from the very beginning.
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ambagel · 19 hours
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Wait hold on, in his anniversary video Barbatos mentions the mc being the brother's attendant?
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But in the other videos, it's implied that they don't remember the mc leaving (which is actually something im very disappointed about and really hope isnt the case in the actual story)
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In these two specifically, it seems like they aren't aware of the mc's presence in the past/alternate timeline/whatever it is. The only other person who seems like they know is Lucifer
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Which also lines up with the end of lesson 40, where he's the only one who says welcome back? So like?? Do only him and Barbatos know? Did they not tell anyone?? Diavolo would probably know as well but I haven't seen anything to show that yet. Anyways I don't really like where this is going, I would really prefer they not make everyone forget the mc disappeared
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So... @muffinlance wrote a really awesome story. I read a post from a point in time, though I truly do not remember when since it seems like I've been working on this project forever, saying that she gives blanket permission for people to print and bind the story into a book (I think there was an also addendum saying that they do not give permission to be sold, since selling fic is illegal). This fic has had total control over my whole brain since it was sent to me (@creatorofthemind I believe it was you, so thank you forever for tuning me into it) back during the days of like chapter six or seven.
So here I am now, sharing this amazing journey of my first ever bookbinding adventure. Further reading below.
So to give you an idea of what's going on, this is a fanfiction about Zuko (Avatar the Last Airbender) (animated show version, the LA show did not exist yet and we do not speak of the movie) being adopted by Hakoda, Father of Katara and Zuko. (This might have also been what kicked off the Give Zuko A Parent craze, but don't fact check me.)
Overall, the characters from the show stick very well to the cannon versions, but where MuffinLance really shines is in the rich backstories and fleshed out feeling of all the non cannon elements. Especially the background characters. I would argue that the writing in this peice of fanwork could easily rival the cannon show at many points of comparison.
Now that you have context, we can get into the actual process.
To start, I used this guide to figure out where to even begin, and fount the included resource list to also be quite helpful. I cannot for the LIFE OF ME figure out where I found the template I used for the front matter and such, but it must be somewhere and I will link to it when I inevitably come across it again.
Then I began to typeset. This step took... a long time. I worked in chunks from about September of 2022 to late March of 2024. I would get a big section done, sometimes even the entire thing, but then find I hated the way I had done it and give up for months at a time. Such is the life of ADHD and flitting interest in projects I suppose.
And then finally, step one was done, and I was left with pages on a word document that look like this. (And do please let me know if you want the link to the document. It was so much work, and I would love to not be the only one to use it.)
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Next step was printing out this beast. Ended up being about eight pages of front matter, and about 630 pages of body text.
That I printed wrong.
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Twice.
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Before finally getting it right. And then not getting a picture of it, because I finished at 4 am and had work at 7, and am also an idiot.
Then I simply stitched along, putting everything together into a beautiful text block.
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And came up with a design for the cover.
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Yes the glue did end up lumpy. Ignore it.
Yes I did have to sketch out the design onto a scraped page several times before I figured out what I was doing. Ignore that too.
The cover design does wrap around the entire cover. No I did not get a picture before I glued the thing down. See again: I'm an idiot. And just... massively impatient.
Finally, we get to the stage of gluing. Behold, my bookpress.
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Of course, topped with Madam MuffinLances own actual professional-people book, Fox's Tounge and Kirin's Bone. It is Excelent. Here is the LINK so you can go and support this amazing author with the real-monies as well as the internet-kudos.
Then, once everything is glued together, one must give the book its "gilt" edges.
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Note
AITA for wanting to spend a night out with a guy?
I'm twenty, study in university and still live with my parents. I've been planning to move out since I was eighteen, but they told me to keep living at home and not get a job so I could focus on studying while they take care of me financially. This arrangement has worked mostly well in the past years save for a few small conflicts, but it's escalated in the past 3-4 months.
The issue is my time schedule. I have a very active social life, am active in the local art scene, do political work and a lot of extracurricular stuff for university (I'm a straight A student, I might add!). Because of this, and because I'm a natural night owl, I usually come home late several days a week (between 10pm and 2am) and stay out all day for most of the week. This means I can't do a lot of chores, and usually there's a lot of housework because my mum has a bit of a cleaning anxiety and wants to make sure everything is spotless 24/7.
Enter this guy, I'll call him Tim. I met him at a festival last summer and we became long distance friends. Tim has visited me for a day several times before, but this weekend he offered to come over for two days and we agreed to spend the night stargazing together without sleeping. I loved the idea and immediately said yes. It was gonna be just us, a couple energy drinks, and some bench in the city center, and I was really looking forward to it.
The thing is, my mum does not like Tim. Like, at all. She thinks he seems very sleazy and generally distrusts him because he feels "too nice" for her. Mind you, he's just a somewhat shady looking guy who is generally pretty anxious he might make a bad impression, so he overperforms the whole "respectable member of society" act a bit around new people. I've introduced him to my friend group and even the more sceptical people absolutely love him and think he's a very sweet, helpful person. In basically every stressful situation I've ever seen him in he's been deescalating, protective and helpful, and he has on several occasions been my first source of comfort when things went to hell.
Today I told my mum in an offhanded comment that I won't come home between Sunday and Monday and the situation escalated completely. She was crying, accusing me of ruining her month, saying I didn't care about this family, it got ugly. The main point she had was that I was staying out all night with someone who's a total stranger to her and she doesn't trust him at all. In the end we compromised that Tim and I would spend the night awake, but not in the city, at home.
I feel really humiliated by this whole situation and honestly, kind of betrayed, because I was promised stuff like this wouldn't happen, and it just hits in a much safer situation than ones I've been in before (I used to get blackout drunk and sleep at parties a lot.). I'm a legal adult, have been for years now and it's so disappointing that my parents still treat me like a child sometimes and are so judgy towards my friends too. At the same time, I'm wondering whether I've acted wrong too by not telling her about this earlier and not taking her concerns that seriously. I forget sometimes that I talk to Tim every day for hours, but my parents only briefly ran into him once, so of course their view of him is skewed.
PS: I should add that when I told him about this, he immediately apologized, asked if I needed anything or wanted to change the plan and decided to dig out the least offensive outfit he could find so he'd make a good impression on my parents. So he's definitely trying his best.
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neet-elite · 1 day
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↳ EVENT 03. Sebastian (Date Night)
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Pairing: Sebastian / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 2,779 Warnings: established relationship, cock humping, cum in pants. thats it <3 Prompt(s): 03 — date night Wanna take part in the event?: CLICK HERE!!
A/N: im loving how soft everyone in this event has been, it's allowed me to stretch my fluff writing muscles a little which i desperately needed <3 don't get me wrong, im just as excited to get to the rougher requests too hehe! but this is a nice change of pace from my usual stuff, so thank you for letting me indulge in this type of writing!
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A weekly tradition, one he's kept with him for as long as he can remember. Even when he was too young to drink, his mom would drag him to the saloon every weekend just like how everyone else in town would inevitably show up soon after, the kids getting free reign of the pool room to play in while the adults enjoyed the end of the week together, surrounded by too tall glasses of beer he was always mesmerized by. And years later, he still visits to play with his friends— only he's of legal drinking age now and able to appreciate the taste of alcohol appropriately, which adds a fresh spin to the lifelong pool nights as it were.
And, of course, there's you too. The new addition to his routine, married and homely. A welcomed plus one at that, not just by him, but by his friends too. A small little get together with everyone that quite often doubles as a date night; especially considering there's fuck all else to do in the lazy Pelican Town other than get drunk outside or get high at home. And he does enough of the latter with you already, so he likes to think that these saloon date nights count for something, right?
It's a chance for you to get all dressed up and pretty at the very least! Not that he doesn't think that you're always the prettiest girl in the world, but he knows that he puts in a little more effort himself when it comes to attending the weekly function, and it's nice to see what sort of outfit you'll end up in too. Because you look so pretty in them all, he'd be hard pressed to pick a favourite. Giddily awaiting his chance to politely ogle you from across the bar, a secret hidden game shared amongst lovers.
"Seb!" He hears you yell from the bathroom, and a smile automatically finds its way to his lips. Sitting on the edge of your shared bed, all ready to go, he yells back an eager yeah babe?
Footsteps answer his question, and he awaits your arrival with bated breath. Expecting you to be done dressing by now, maybe needing some help with a difficult to reach zip or something? But what he doesn't expect is... Well, God, look at you...
Oh, that's gotta be his favourite outfit on you after all. Wasn't so hard to pick now, was it? The sight of you entering the bedroom, cute confused look on your face, wearing what he can see is only his old hoodie and a pair of underwear is such a pretty view. He bites his tongue as you saunter closer, else he's liable to spill filthy secrets about just how long he's yearned to see you wear exactly that, eyes half lidded the moment his gaze lands on your bare thighs. You could wear anything in the world, the most expensive dress known to man, the prettiest pare of heels in the world, and this would still be his favourite. Barefoot and underdressed, how domesticated you appear, hair and face all done up nicely, dressed to the nines in his hand me downs. There's not a prettier sight, he suddenly decides. Wanting to clutch his chest from how in love he is with you wearing his hoodie, an unmistakeable thirst present in how his hands itch to haul you on top of him so he can love on you a little. Genuinely pained from how badly he wants you in such a swift moment, his pretty little wife.
Still, he hopes you plan on wearing more than just that out to the saloon; a tight tug of jealousy wrapping around his fluttering heart. Except, well, maybe he really doesn't. You look perfect as is, all smiles and wifely in his beloved clothing. His beloved wearing his beloved, he'd rather you stay just as you are. But the thought of others interjecting themselves into such a personal moment for him is annoying, has him already wanting to shield you away from prying eyes despite remaining safe at home.
"Do you know where my uh... My— y'know?" You vaguely gesture towards your bare thighs with your words, and his eyebrows raise in faux suspicion. You always get so frazzled before leaving for the saloon, something about the excitement of the night to come getting to you, and though he truly believes it's innocently adorable how you fret, he can't help but wet his lips at the way you draw attention to your pretty legs right in front of him.
"Your... pants?" He questions back, tutting quietly to himself when you enthusiastically nod yes!
Of course he knows where they are— you had thrown them to him just before getting in the bathroom to assumedly finish getting ready. And like the polite husband he is, he took them without any issue. Quietly holding on to your possessions like he's been taught to, because he enjoys helping you out without need for questioning. "Sure do." He plainly states, reaching behind his back to retrieve the thrown away bottoms only to waggle them in front of you— just out of reach!
The sigh of relief you let out has him chuckling, light laughter filling the air as you ramble on about being so ditzy sometimes, but he thinks it's cute. Loves being your metaphorical knight in shining armour when you come seeking his help for the easiest of things; simply because you've forgotten again. It's nice to be of use to you.
Buuuut, on the other hand, it's just as much being your bully, too. There is intimacy in the moment where your eyes go wide as he tugs the clothing a little farther away, a silent encouragement for you to keep coming, just a little closer. The soft padding of your bare feet on the old creaky floorboards of the farm house rings in his ears as you pout prettily at him, almost bashfully, and he considers it a blessing to see you this exposed and vulnerable up close. "Ah-ah." He teases, extending his arm as high up as possible and rendering your pants inaccessible, a sneaky smirk matching his taunting tone. "I think you should leave just like this," He wiggles around, escaping your attempts to take hold of your bottoms with ease, because he knows your tactics well by now. This is not the first time he's teased you like this. "What d'ya think, babe?"
"I can't, Seb! It's too cold, hence the hoodie!" You huff cutely, and by God does he wanna kiss your lips all better. Cock quietly twitching in his pants as you take his playful attitude well, leaking a little precum for you as you tug on the hoodie strings enough for him in your demonstration of how cold you really feel to be able to see that you wear it just like him: as in, with nothing else on underneath.
He briefly wonders if you can feel the heat coming off of him, big arms ready to cuddle you up against his toned chest in an effort to share his warmth with your apparent shivering self. But you answer his question swiftly when you take to climbing on top of him, his arms immediately wrapping around you as a sharp gasp escapes him— the feeling of your knee brushing against his cock knocking the wind out of him, and still he cares more for your safety than the embarrassing fact that just seeing you in his hoodie has him rock hard already.
Tense pause follows, frozen in place with his strong arms keeping you stable as you rock preciously on his lap. God knows where your clothes have gone, because they were immediately tossed aside the moment he thought you might fall, favouring your safety above all else. And then, without a second though, he blurts out a rushed "Sorry— I, it's just..." Before he buries his head against your chest, taking a shaky inhale to try and collect his thoughts, but with your body practically skin tight to his from how snugly he holds you, cock rubbing inadvertently against your leg, the scent of you mixing with the old musk of his worn hoodie— it was a mistake to tease you from the get go. Only resulting in riling himself up enough to have him biting down on his bottom lip to stave off the primal need to buck his hips against literally any part of you like some sort of horny teen; the things you still do to him. Maybe it'd be understandable if he was acting this way back in the beginning of your relationship, and yet...
"You look good in that." He sighs into you, emphasis on the good to make sure you understand the weight of your actions tonight, curling further into you and leaning back on the bed, safely dragging you down with him and letting go just so he can see how you look above him. "Should be a sin, honestly." He laughs with you, noticing the soft blush on your cheeks prompted by his open honesty.
It's not so bad to admit to such degeneracy, right? Cock nestled firmly between your legs, his hands coming up to stroke gentle lines up and down the fat of your thighs lovingly. Would that he could keep you here all night to himself, dying to show you just how much he loves the minimal fit the best way he knows how. But one look at the clock denies him such pleasures, a heavy sigh escaping him as he notices that he should have left with you five minutes ago.
"C'mon," he pats your ass fondly, blowing some hair out of his face as he half sits up, leaning his weight on one arm while his legs still yet hang off the edge of the bed. "We should get going, once we find your— ah, fuck— babe—!"
Mid sentence, you effectively shut him up with a simple movement. Just a small rock forward, nothing too serious. But fuck does it feel great having you take control like that, his eyes flickering up to your face only to see it scrunched up similarly to his own. Tense, expectant. He holds his breath for a second or two, reclaiming a spot on your back as one arm wraps possessively around it, the other still holding him up.
"Or— We could stay here, if y'want?" He offers, but rather than waiting for a response, he slowly guides you into more movement. Pushing lightly on your back to help you hump forward, and removing the weight of his hand to watch you slide back down his lap. Knowing that you're depending on him for stability when your own hands take root on his shoulders is nice, strokes his ego about as well as your barely clothed cunt strokes his cock off right now. And he figures he's got his answer when you bite your lip so seductively that he has to roll his cock up in tandem with you, literally forced into helping you get off on his lap because instinct begs him to please his wife.
It's just that he's so in love with all the small details, y'know? Like how his hoodie fits you better than it ever has him, how it falls from your frame so prettily as you hover above him, his hand gripping the back of the fabric a little tighter so it showcases your frame just that much better for his leering eyes. The little hah's and seb's your pretty lips whine for him as he helps you ride back and forth on his fat cock, the way your brows furrow in concentration, trying desperately to feel the full weight of his hidden cock, cloth barrier providing enough stimulation to rub nicely against your scantily clad clit, but he knows that frustrated sob all too well. He's fucked it out of you enough times before to know that you need more— but babe, you're already running late.
"C'mere." He prompts you with a head tilt, the moment your face gets close enough to his own he courteously kisses you. Short and sweet, a quick peck more than anything, before your greed overtakes you and you push your hips down into him with more vulgar intent, leaving his mouth wide open in a silent gasp of pleasure for you to take advantage of. He'd never complain at the feeling of your tongue running along his own, his grip tightening on the old hoodie you adorn as a means to display some semblance of restraint, but every drop of shared saliva he's forced to swallow in hopes of more has his head dizzy with desire. A great need welling in his tummy to help you get off, desperate to have you use him for your own benefit like the pretty princess you are to him.
He returns the fervour readily, impishly nibbling down on your lower lip before you do the same back, charming him with a simple smile as he leans in for more kisses. All the while his hips continue to buck up for you, fucking forward when you stroke down, and vice versa when he helps your ride closer to him, drawing his hips down so that his tightly concealed cock almost mimics catching on your pretty hole. The shuffling sound of his jeans fill the room to match the squeak of the bed, and he welcomes every lewd moan and suck you have to offer his needy lips.
"Feels s'fuckin' good, babe—" He slurs truthfully when taking a breather from the heated kiss, vision hazy with how good you look riding him like this. And the fact that he's close already from just a minor amount of petting is a testament to how much he just adores you, he thinks, so there's no room for shame in his pervert thoughts when you push him back down onto the bed, his back cradled gently by the sheets below. And the addition of your open palms on his rapidly rising and falling chest as his lungs struggle to keep up with how fucking hot his wife is when you know what you want only adds to the tight feeling in his core. Balls taut under your relentless humping of his cock, head thrown back with barely there control.
He only wishes he could have whipped it out in time to really feel how soaked your pretty cunt must be, gliding up and down his red hot length as you start to shake on top of him.
Which is perfect, really, because he doesn't think he'd be able to last much longer at this rate either. Saloon well forgotten about when he's got the prettiest girl alive on top of him, riding him so well that he's about to stain his jeans white with how your hips snap up and down his tip, unsure who the main culprit is of the growing wet spot on his bottoms is— but that's hot. Unashamedly yearning for each other as your nails dig into his chest, your thighs tightening at his sides as you pinpoint the exactly location needed to help trigger your orgasm and then—
"That's it, that's my girl—" He manages to force out before he's cumming with you, mostly due to the sight of his hoodie sleeve getting suckled on as your eyes roll to the back of your head, the sickening contrast between how fucking cute you are and that fact that you're cumming all over his nice jeans is too much to handle. After all, he's but a simple man. And when his wife starts to moan his name around the makeshift hoodie gag, he can't help but to shoot his load against his underwear. Cock throbbing under your soaked little cunt as if he were actually filling you up— God he wishes he was, hands digging into your hips as he pushes you against his spurting length to help milk the remainder of seed out.
Just for you.
And he holds you there until he's done, only releasing his grip on you once his body stops tensing and he remembers how to breathe again, a dry half laugh crawling up his throat as you continue to shake for him.
"Better than the usual date night, right?" He muses out loud, pulling you in for a tight cuddle when you join in on his breathless laughter. Hid friends can wait, at least until he's able to find your clothes again. And, a new pair of jeans for himself.
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