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#not exactly my best art but oh well
angryborzois · 4 months
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it's his day today
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peachyutdr · 5 months
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i finished it, was kicked out of the game, and then spent the next 10 minutes drawing this. i will now go take a shower, most likely cry, and then go through the emotional turmoil of convincing myself to reset so i can do a geno run. i hate it here :D
#undertale yellow#uty#my art#<- ifg#spoilers under these tags beware. although it is mostly just me being very very sad#that entire thing was heart wrenching. anyways#CEROBAS FIGHT??? HELLO???#i had to exit out of it the first time (i got to the last phase) to get better items but i came back and won pretty quickly#but THE CUTSCENES?!?!?#JFC NO WONDER THIS WOMANS SO MESSED UP. HER HUSBAND PRACTICALLY DIED IN HER ARMS AND THE LAST THING HE LEFT HER WITH- HIS DYING WISH- COULD#ONLY BE FULFILLED BY PUTTING THEIR ONLY CHILD IN DEATHS WAY. AND THEN WHEN SHE TOOK THAT RISK THE WORST THING HAPPENED AND SHE NOW HAS TO#LIVE WITH THE GUILT OF BEING THE ONE TO. MOST LIKELY. KILL HER ONE AND ONLY DAUGHTER#ALL THE WHILE SHE WAS PUSHING AWAY HER CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND AND CONVINCING HERSELF THAT SHE WAS IN THE RIGHT TO SACRIFICE CLOVER WHO HAD#BEEN ONLY KIND MERCIFUL AND JUST THIS WHOLE TIME. EVEN TO THOSE WHO WERE TRYING TO KILL THEM. FUCK.#AAND WHEN CLOVER HUGGED HER I DOUBLED OVER IRL BC *THATS EXACTLY WHAT I WANTED TO DO IN THAT MOMENT* I HATE IT (read: love it) HERE#n dont even get me STARTED on after that. when clover started moving on their own and the gd white screen came up and we got flashbacks of#everyone's words. thats when the tears rlly started coming bc it clicked for me. 'oh. this is it. isn't it?' and IT WAS#WHEN THEY GAVE THEIR FUCKIGN HAT AND GUN AWAY TO MARTLET AND STARLO WELL THATS WHEN I REALLY STARTED CRYING#AAND THE GROUP HUGG#I WAS SOBBING WHENEVER I HAD TO WATCH THEM CRAWL UP AGAINST THE WALL AND DIE AND HAVE FLOWEYS WORDS PLAY OVERHEAD#AND THE FUCKOGN#THE F U C K I N G#AFTEWRCREDITS SCENE WHERE WE GOT THE 'You heard someone calling for help. You answered.' I GOT CHILLS SO BAD#to think that all the other souls have stories just as expansive and emotional as clover n frisks. how fucked up is that. in a good way tho#and finally the last scene where we got all 4 of our main friends sending us off in waterfall and we see clovers items end up in the dump#just waiting to be found by bratty and catty. fucken hell man this was a masterpiece#anyways time to reset and obliterate everyone and never emotionally recover from that ever!! really is feeling like 2016-17 again w the way#this game has me sobbing my eyes out and feeling the guilt of knowing that i dont HAVE to kill them all but im too curious not to#oh well. at least i have the balls to do it this time around instead of letting a youtuber do it for me ig
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anastacialyart · 2 months
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03.10.24 // you better not mess with big salmon, or you might just be sleepin' with the fishes.
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sewrysz · 1 year
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moss grotto
GIVE ME THE GAME
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iknaenmal · 1 year
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Jade and dave in my country's traditional clothes !
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inkykeiji · 2 years
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bf’s dad made me double chocolate walnut brownies!! (ノ´ヮ´)ノ*:・゚✧ munching on them as i edit hehehe <333
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iheartliquor · 2 years
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aajjks · 4 months
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eyes on me (m)
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synopsis. look at him, only him, especially when he’s fucking you dumb.
warnings. êxplïcït sěx, döm!töjï, fèm!réàdèr, däddy kïnk, MÄTŪRE THÊMÊS, cússïng, prâïsê kïnk, röügh s-x, möänïng, gröǎnïng, ünprötêctêd s-x, bïtïng, yändêrê töjï, [wräp ït bêförě yöu täp ït], b-lly bǔlgè.
header art by @jj59u on twt. It’s not mine.
note. happy new year 🫶🏻💌✨ please re-blog as much as you can and please share feedback ENJOY!
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Oh you look so erotic like this.
You’re both so sweaty, you’re crying, he’s smirking, going so fast, hammering into your heat, Toji can’t stop looking at you at all.
You’re so shy despite literally drooling in his cock but you’re just so adorable- hiding your face away in his neck, whimpering like a kitten in the cold while he’s buried deep inside you.
Your nails are digging so deep into his naked back, your breathy moans are like music to him, and he’s already about to cum as he feels your walls clench tighter around him.
“Gonna cum, my pretty slut?” He asks you so tenderly, pressing butterfly kisses into your messed up hair, Toji hisses a little when you dig your nails deeper but the pain only makes his dick harder.
So he doesn’t waste a second to pick up his already fast pace, he knows you’re about to cum because you always get so quite, too lost in the pleasure to respond or comprehend anything around you.
He is fucking you dumb on his cock.
And he’s doing exactly that right now too. “Come on pretty baby speak up.” Toji whispers in a sultry voice in your ear and he doesn’t miss the way goosebumps appear on your skin, and the sight makes him smile.
Because your shoulder and neck are filled with his bite marks, “yn..” he calls out your name once again, panting alot, he’s made sure to make you cum at least two times.
Because you are his princess, you may be a little bratty but he loves you so much, Tojis hips are grinding into the air and he’s got you safe in his arms, your cunt is so hot around him, he feels like he’ll burst, just then you finally lift your head up and that makes him so happy because he can see your pretty eyes.
Toji is kissing you up from the valley of your breasts, his lips all over them, you’re so soft and so pretty.
“w-wanna cum, daddy.” You whimper, and he coos, pulling you for a rough sloppy kiss, his teeth nibble on the meat of your lower lip.
He’s about to cum too.
“S-So fuckin pretty.” He groans, It’s his turn to bury his face into your shoulder, he’s enjoying the lewd sounds that’s echoing through out your large bedroom, he’s missed you so much.
His biceps flex as he’s fucking you like his life depends on it, maybe because he wants you to get so addicted to him.
“O-Oh daddy… feels so good- ah.” Youre hugging him tightly. Toji feels so calm when his body is into yours, it’s so intimate yet calming.
“You fuck me ‘so good.” Your praise actually has his head spinning so now he’s literally bullying his dick into your pussy, crying out curses and what not.
He loves you so much.
He knows he’s got a very filthy mouth but he knows you love it so much, because it’s not long before you’re literally creaming in his cock, crying with literal tears, moaning in pleasure.
Your shy self is long gone and you’re a loud moaning mess.
You sound like a slut- his favorite slut.
“Noooo baby come on- look into daddy’s eyes.” He is forcing your head up again before you can hide again and his large fingers hold your face up so you’re looking straight into his eyes.
Your eyes are the best thing about you.
He smirks when he spots your belly bulge, you take him so well every time.
Your body is made for him.
“Eyes on me so daddy c-can cum, baby.”
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jonnywaistcoat · 2 months
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Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.
To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.
On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.
But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.
At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.
As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.
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joelmillerisapunk · 2 months
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a sweet arrangement
sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader
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Masterlist ♡ Sugar Daddy Masterlist
Wordcount: 3,374
Summary: You sign up for a sugar daddy app. What's the worst that could happen?
Warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (both m&f receiving), light bondage, reader might have pullable hair (i dont rememeber if i took it out) quick mentions of slut, baby, sweet baby, sweetheart, darlin
Notes: tysm @saradika-graphics for the dividers. I was cheated on over the weekend, and I wrote this as a "I wish I could be here" instead of being sad." Just another rich!daddy fantasy
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You've been feeling financially stretched lately, and after hearing about the concept of sugar daddies and sugar babies from a friend, you decided to give it a try. You sit on your bed and hesitantly create a profile on a popular app, describing yourself as a young, independent woman looking for a mutually beneficial arrangement. As you sit scrolling through, you can't help but feel a sigh of reluctance escape your lips. You never expected to find yourself on a sugar daddy dating app, but life has a way of surprising you sometimes.
After a few moments of looking around the site, a notification pops up. It's a message from a user named "Contractor_Guy."
Curiosity piques, and you open the message, hoping it's not some creepy come-on. To your surprise, it reads:
"Hey there. I don't usually do this sort of thing, but I figured it's worth a shot. My name's Joel. If you're interested in getting to know me, send me a message back."
Feeling intrigued, you reply:
"Hi Joel, I'm not sure what 'this sort of thing' is, but I'm curious now.”
The response comes quickly.
Contractor_Guy: "Haha, 'this sort of thing' is something I usually avoid. But hey, it's a new day, and who knows what it might bring?"
You: Hopefully luck! But seriously, what exactly are you avoiding?"
Contractor_Guy: "Haha, well that's a bit of a long story, darlin.”
You: "Oh, I don't mind a long story. I've got some time to kill. Besides, I find it intriguing that someone like you is on a sugar daddy app.”
Contractor_Guy: "Well, my last experience wasn't the best, and I'm just being cautious this time around.
But, here's the long version. I met a girl a few years back, and at first, things were great. We clicked, and the relationship was mutually beneficial. I was able to provide for her in a way she couldn't for herself, and in return, she was there for me when I needed emotional support. As time went on, she started to change. She became more demanding and less appreciative. It got to the point where she would expect extravagant gifts just for a simple text or phone call. I realized that she was only interested in my money and not in the relationship we'd built."
You: "I'm sorry to hear that. It's not easy to find someone who's genuine and appreciates what you have to offer."
Contractor_Guy: "Yeah, it was a tough lesson to learn, but I'm hoping to find someone different this time. Someone who appreciates the little things, too, not just the material things."
You: "I think that's a fair expectation. We all deserve to be appreciated for more than just our wallets. So, Joel, tell me more about yourself. What do you do for a living?"
Contractor_Guy: "I'm a contractor. I do mostly residential construction and home remodeling projects. What about you? What do you do when you're not scrolling through dating apps?”
You: "Lol, I'm usually at work. I'm a graphic designer, so I spend most of my days in front of a computer. It's not the most glamorous job, but I love what I do."
Contractor_Guy: "A graphic designer, huh? That's pretty impressive. I've always been more of a hands-on guy myself. But I must admit, there's something intriguing about a woman in the arts.”
You: "And who doesn't love a man who can wield a hammer and a chainsaw with equal ease?"
Contractor_Guy: "Oh, I'm definitely good with my hands darlin' ;). ”
You: "Maybe one day you'll show me just how good you are with your hands."
As the conversation continues to flow effortlessly, you both exchange numbers and agree to meet for a coffee date tomorrow. Before signing off, you send a playful message with a picture attached
You: "Well, I'm off to begin the countdown to our coffee date. I'll leave you with this little teaser. ;)"
Insert a picture of you posing confidently in a cute outfit, with a mischievous grin on your face.
Contractor_Guy: "Wow, that definitely has me counting down the hours! I can't wait to see you in person."
With that, you end the conversation eagerly anticipating your first in-person meeting with the intriguing contractor.
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The two of you meet for the first time at a trendy coffee shop downtown, and you can immediately sense Joel's charm and confidence. You can tell he's done this a time or two. He offers to buy you a drink and pulls out the mattest black credit card you have ever seen to pay with. He guides you to a table in the back corner, and you both engage in light conversation, discussing your interests and goals. Joel is clearly intrigued by you, and you feel a spark of attraction towards him as well.
"So, tell me more about yourself," Joel says, his eyes locked on yours.
"Well, like I said on the app, I'm a freelance graphic designer," you reply, “It's not the most stable job, but I love what I do."
"I can imagine," Joel says, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I've always been a fan of the arts. But I'm sure you understand the struggles of making ends meet as a freelancer. That's why I'm interested in this arrangement."
"I do understand," you agree, your mind already contemplating the potential benefits of such an arrangement. "It would be nice to have some financial stability while still being able to pursue my passion."
"Exactly," Joel says, his tone firm but understanding. "And in return, I'd like you to be my companion when I need someone to spend time with. We can go on dates, attend social events, or just relax at home. I value your company, you're easy on the eyes and brain, and I believe we would make a great team."
"I think that sounds fair," you say, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I'm looking for something similar - someone who understands my situation and is willing to help me out."
Joel offers to take you to his place for a glass of wine, and as he leads you to his car, the conversation shifts to the details of the arrangement.
"Now that we've established the terms," Joel says, his voice low and serious, "I want to make something clear. I'm going to support you financially in any way you could ever dream of or want, but there's one condition."
"What's that?" You ask, your curiosity piqued.
"I want access to you whenever I please, however I please," Joel says, his eyes meeting yours. "I want to be able to use you for my pleasure whenever I want. Are you comfortable with that?"
Your heart races as you consider his request. You know what he's asking for, and you're not sure if you're ready for that level of intimacy. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins.
"I need some time to think about it. This is a big decision."
"Of course," Joel replies, his tone understanding. "Take all the time you need. But remember, this is the condition of our arrangement."
As Joel drives you to his mansion, you can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation. This is unlike any arrangement you've ever been a part of, and you're not sure what to expect. As you follow Joel upstairs, your heart races in anticipation. He leads you into a large, dimly-lit room, its walls adorned with black velvet and soft, glowing lights. A large bed dominates the center of the room, surrounded by various toys and restraints.
"I want to show you what I mean when I say I want access to you whenever I please.” Joel says, his voice thick with desire.
Joel leads you over to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He takes a seat on the edge, patting the space beside him. "Come here, sweetheart," he says, his voice soft and inviting.
You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do. But the curiosity and excitement pulsing through you win out, and you find yourself sitting down next to him. Joel's hand reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" he says, his gaze intense.
You feel your entire body get warm at the compliment, your heart racing faster than ever before. "Thank you," you murmur.
Joel's hand begins to trace a path down your arm, sending shivers coursing through your body. "I want to make you feel good, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and husky. "I want to give you pleasure like you've never experienced before."
Your mind is racing as Joel's hand continues to explore your body. You're not sure what to do, but you find yourself leaning into his touch, your body craving more.
"I want to show you something," Joel says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He stands up and walks over to a large wooden chest at the foot of the bed. He opens it, revealing a variety of toys and restraints. Your heart races as you take in the sight. You've never seen anything like this before, and you're not sure what to make of it. Joel walks back over to you, a blindfold in his hand. "I want to show you how good it can feel to let go and trust someone," he says, his voice soft and soothing.
You hesitate for a moment but something about Joel's words and the look in his eyes makes you feel safe, and you find yourself nodding in agreement. He gently places the blindfold over your eyes, cocooning you in darkness. You can feel his hands on you, guiding you back onto the bed. You trust him, and you let yourself relax into the feeling of his touch.
Joel's hands continue to explore your body, tracing patterns and circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel the bed shift as he leans over you, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to make you feel so good, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice barely above a whisper. Your breath hitches as his hands continue to wander.
Suddenly, you feel something soft and silky against your skin. It's a scarf, and Joel is using it to gently bind your wrists to the bedposts. You gasp at the feeling of being restrained, but the sensation is not unpleasant. Instead, it heightens your senses, making you more aware of every touch and caress.
Joel continues to explore your body, his hands moving lower and lower until they reach the waistband of your pants. He pauses for a moment, waiting for your consent. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He slowly begins to slide your pants down your legs, his hands lingering on your skin as he goes. You can feel the heat of his touch, and you find yourself arching up towards him, wanting more. Finally, your pants are off, and Joel's hands are free to explore your body in earnest. He caresses your thighs, your hips, your stomach, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.
You can feel yourself growing wet, your body responding to Joel's touch in ways you've never experienced before. You moan softly, your hips bucking up towards him. Joel takes the hint, his fingers finding their way to your wetness. He begins to explore you, his touch gentle but firm. You gasp at the sensation, your body quivering with pleasure. His fingers move in slow, deliberate circles that send shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. You find yourself moaning louder and louder, your hips bucking up towards him as you chase the feeling of release. Finally, you can't take it any longer. You cry out as the orgasm washes over you, your body trembling with pleasure. Joel continues to touch you, his fingers gentle as they bring you down from the peak of pleasure.
Slowly, your breathing returns to normal, and you become aware of your surroundings once again. The blindfold is still over your eyes, and you're still bound to the bed. But you feel safe and content, your body still humming with pleasure. He unties the blindfold, and you blink your eyes against the sudden brightness of the room. He's standing above you, a wicked smile on his face. "Did you like that, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.
"Yes sir," you get out with a hoarse voice.
Joel's gaze travels down your body, taking in the sight of you spread out on his bed, still bound to the bedposts. "Mmm, such a good girl already," he says, his voice full of satisfaction. "I have so much more I want to show you."
He walks over to the wooden chest at the foot of the bed and rummages through it, pulling out a variety of toys and restraints. Joel turns back to you, a pair of handcuffs in his hand. "May I?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.
“You may."
Your heart racies with excitement as Joel cuffs your hands above your head, replacing the soft, luxurious ribbon, and securing you back to the bedpost. You test the restraints, finding that they hold you firmly in place. Your heart is racing with excitement, your body tingling with anticipation. He walks back over to the chest and pulls out a vibrator. He turns it on, the buzzing noise filling the room. You watch as he approaches you. He traces the vibrator over your body, teasing you with each touch. You arch up towards him, wanting more. But Joel is in control, and he takes his time, drawing out the anticipation until you're nearly begging for release."Are you ready for more, darlin’?"
“Yes please,” your breath coming in short gasps.
"Good girl." He traces the vibrator lower, teasing your clit with each pass. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. But he pulls the vibrator away just as you're about to come.
You whimper in frustration, but Joel just smiles. "Patience, baby, patience," he says.
He continues to tease you, bringing you to the brink of orgasm again and again, but never letting you fully come. You're writhing on the bed, your body begging for release when Joel leans down and whispers in your ear. "Do you trust me, sweetheart?"
You nod, your heart racing. "Yes, I do," you whisper.
Joel smiles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. You moan, your hips bucking up towards him. You're ready for whatever comes next.
Joel breaks the kiss, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to take you to the edge, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and seductive. "And then I'm going to bring you back again. And again. And again. Until you can't take it anymore."
Joel's hand moves back to the vibrator, tracing it over your clit once again. This time, he doesn't stop. He continues to tease and pleasure you. Suddenly, Joel pulls the vibrator away once again. You whimper in frustration, but before you can protest, he's replaced it with his mouth. His tongue expertly teases your clit. His hands roam your body as he brings you to the brink of orgasm once again. This time, however, he doesn't stop. He continues to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers entering you and curling against your G-spot as he pushes you over the edge.
You cry out, your body shaking with pleasure as you come hard against his mouth. Joel doesn't stop, his tongue continuing to torture you as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. As you come down from your orgasm, you gasp for breath, your body still trembling with pleasure. Joel's gaze is intense as he watches you, his face flushed with arousal.
"That was so, fucking good," you manage to gasp out, your voice still hoarse from your orgasm.
Joel smiles, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad you thought so," he says, his voice low and seductive. "But I think it's your turn now."
"My turn?" you ask, your eyes wide with curiosity.
"Yes," Joel says, his smile widening. "It's time for you to return the favor.”
You feel a pang of nerves flood your body. “But I'm still all tied up.”
Joel smirks, leaning in. He grabs the hollows of your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “ I never said you needed to be untied, did I.”
You swallow hard, your mind racing with the implications of his words. Joel releases your cheeks, his gaze traveling down your body. "You're going to make me very happy tonight, sweetheart. Just remember - I want access to you whenever I please, however I please. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," you reply, your voice full of submission.
Joel's smile widens, and he reaches down to unfasten his pants. He steps out of them and his boxers, revealing a hard, thick, ready erection. He climbs onto the bed, his legs straddling your chest. "Now, I want you to take me into your mouth," he says, his voice firm and authoritative.
Your heart is racing as you obey. He brings it up to your lips, and your tongue darts out to lick the tip. You can taste the hint of salt and musk, and you find yourself growing aroused again. You open your mouth wide to accommodate his size. He tastes so good, so intense, and you can't get enough. You begin to move your head, your mouth sliding up and down his shaft. Joel gasps, his hips bucking up towards you.
Suddenly he grabs your hair and holds his cock to the hilt, filing up your entire throat, blocking your airway. You try to gasp for breath as Joel holds you down on his large throbbing cock but it's no use. Your head is swimming with pleasure and arousal, and you're not sure if you can take anymore. Just then Joel releases his grip on your hair, allowing you to breathe again. You take the opportunity to pull away, gasping for air. Joel smirks down at you. "Such a good little slut for daddy already," he says, his voice full of praise. "Daddy wants to see more. Show me how much you want me."
You nod, your heart racing with anticipation as Joel pulls away and undoes your restraints. When he's back on the bed, you take him back into your mouth, your hands roaming his beautiful, full thighs. You begin to suck and lick at his cock, your tongue exploring every inch of him. You can hear Joel growing more aroused, his breaths coming in short gasps.
You feel a hand on the back of your head, guiding you. Joel is thrusting into your mouth, his cock sliding in and out. You moan around him, your hands reaching up to cup his balls. He's tensing, his hips bucking harder with each thrust. Suddenly, he lets out the most primal groan you've ever heard, his cock swells in your mouth. He thrusts into you one more time before coming. You can feel his warm come filling your mouth, and you swallow it down eagerly. Joel groans, his hips stilling as he rides out his orgasm.
You pull away, gasping for air and Joel collapses onto his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You can see the satisfaction on his face, and you feel proud of yourself. You've never done anything like that before, and you're not sure how you feel about it. But there's a part of you that's excited, that wants to do it again.
You're both panting heavily, your mind still reeling from the intense experience you've just shared. Joel's gaze is locked on yours, his eyes full of admiration and desire. "You were amazing, sweetheart," he says, his voice a low rumble. "I can't wait to show you more." A wave of excitement washes over you as Joel reaches out and gently strokes your cheek, his fingers lingering against your skin. "I want to make this arrangement work, darlin," he says, his voice soft and earnest. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons."
Your heart races as you consider his words. You know what he's asking, and you're not sure if you're ready for the level of intimacy and commitment this arrangement requires. But at the same time, you can't deny the excitement coursing through your veins, the thrill of being desired and pursued by someone like Joel. You nod, your heart racing with both excitement and trepidation. "I think I'm ready to accept your condition," you say, your voice low and hesitant. "But I need to know that you're in this for the right reasons, too."
Joel's eyes meet yours, his gaze intense and serious. "I promise you, I want nothing more than to care for and support you, both financially and emotionally," he says firmly. "And I expect the same companionship in return."
You take a deep breath, your mind racing with the implications of your decision. But there's a part of you that's eager to explore this new world, to find out what it means to be truly desired and cared for by someone like Joel.
"Okay," you finally say, your voice full of resolution. "I want to make this arrangement work too."
Joel's face breaks into a smile, his eyes filled with relief and joy. He pulls you into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispers, his voice full of gratitude. "I'm going to make sure you never regret this decision."
---
Thanks for reading ❤️ let me know if you'd like more from these two
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Text
WHAT'S NOT YOURS
Freakshow AU by: @hootbon
Promo Art ||The Chosen one (Part 1) || Off-Limits (Part3)
Word count: 6025
HELLO FREAKSHOWERS. ARE YOU READY TO KEEL OVER AND DIE??? CHLSKHCA Whats Not Yours takes place AFTER The Chosen One, but BEFORE Off-Limits! BUT they're not necessarily connected uwu they're just built off the knowledge of The Chosen one, so you know the context.
REMINDER: SHOWTIME IS NOT CANON IN FREAKSHOW AU. I'M JUST A BIG NERD- OK BYE-
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Pomni woke up in a cold sweat.
Her breath hitched like her head had been forced 6 hours underwater. And when she came to, she gasped, gagged, sweating, and panicked. Her wooden fingers were cold to the touch. 
She thought it was all over, but her nightmares followed her into the mansion.  
All that… trauma… that man put her through, her friends… but it wasn't over. She didn't think she could ever escape his wretched grasp until her last death.
And in darkness, light only shining from the eclipse through the curtains, Pomni sat up, hands in her eyes, rubbing away invisible tears from her dry face. Although she wasn't crying, she felt like she was a child just wanting her stuffed toys to protect her. 
Upon sensing her stress levels, her new owner, blue in coat, teleported into her bedroom. “ Hello? Dear?” he spoke with his unnaturally soft voice. “ Is everything alright? I sensed your nerves heightened and I got so worried!” The deck of cards sat at her bed, hands politely to his lap, but ready to hold her if she so pleased.
The woman gasped a crying breath. “ N-No…”
“ You had that dream again?” 
Pomni nodded.
“ Was it about…him?”
She squeaked and whimpered at the mention, practically breaking down from the memory. Oh god. She thought it was all over, she thought it was done- but it was never done! it was never ever done—
“ Oh! You're okay…!” The blue ringmaster scooted over to bring her into his arms. His hands were so loving, warm, and just felt like home. His voice was similar to a man hushing a whimpering puppy.
And Pomni accepted the embrace… She trusted no one else but him in that god-forsaken place. Since she left the circus and signed up to be his little pet, everything has gone uphill since.
He was the only one to ever truly love her unconditionally. Feed her good food, dress her well … hell, he even provides her fancy new clothes and a warm comfortable room. And she loved him back. He was exactly all she needed. 
While in his arms, Pomni's breath shook but calmed down. She then leaned her head on his shoulder, not letting go. She never wanted to let go. She loved him as much as a performer could love her owner.
“ As long as you are under my ownership, you're also under my protection.” He pulled away, and put a clump of hair behind her ear. “ And I promise you, my little dear, you will never have to speak to that man again.”
Her breath hitched and she sobbed softly back into his arms, like if she were to let go she would fall to her death. She can't imagine living a life without him anymore. If she went back into the circus she would just try to kill herself over and over. 
But then, she was safe… now that he was there… he cared for her and tended to her every need like no other. He truly was the best.
“ I love you, dear..” Able whispered.
“ I love you t—”
Caine couldn't finish that thought.
For the past few hours, Caine had been standing there, in the middle of the circus tent, completely stationary. A few hours earlier he had yelled at the ballerina and saw her walk away a lot more hurt than usual.
And for the past few hours, Instead of using his infinite intelligence to maybe, be productive, or be functional, he instead wasted his processors to stupidly think of all the timelines and possibilities that came with the consequences of upsetting his little doll.
Why did she walk away like that. Hands on each opposite shoulder. Like she was holding herself. It wasn't even the fact that she looked weak—no, he'd seen her at her worst.
The way she walked away, her whole demeanor and her silence didn't feel like fear, it felt like she was simply… numb.
He exhaled and twitched.
Complete stationary and staring into nothing is what the AIs looked like when in deep thought. He searched through all the different timelines, and so many of them returned to… him. The ace he needed not name.
The images of him caring for her, her going to him for safety, feeding her, touching her, keeping her away from him-- or maybe even doing the things that he does! Dancing with her, clothing her, Instructing her next dances -- Caine’s eye twitched. He could hardly stand the idea of his little brother talking badly about him.
These were the kinds of intrusive thoughts that he was not used to. And for the moment, he didn't care how close they were to reality. his judgment was clouded. Now, all he was thinking about was a way to prevent it…
Let's see his options...
Kill him? No, he already tried that.
Kill her? No, she'll just come back.
Prevent her from seeing him? He's been doing that every time he sees them around each other!
His hands fidgeted.
Pomni was a human. What do you humans usually do after an argument?
Let's see here…
Pomni was fast asleep in bed, snoring her cares away. It was another hard day at the circus nothing new… Caine said something that day that especially hurt her, and… it was a reminder not to take the guy’s words personally. 
He was a computer built with nothing but random data. Violent data for sure, but there was nothing but objectives in AI-- no other rhyme or reason a human should dig into. 
For now, she cared for nothing but sleep…if she's lucky, she’ll think less about it in the morning. Sleep did help keep her sanity levels up… but if she were to be honest, a lot of the time she goes to bed in the hopes of never waking up.
Her closed eyes twitched though. To her horror, she was waking up. For what reason? She opened her eyes and adjusted to the darkness of her room. in front of her was nothing but the— 
“ AAAA WHAT THE FU-” Pomni fell off her bed.
Caine was sat, squatting at the foot of her bed, quiet and staring.
The doll pulled her head up from the floor and turned back to him. How long has he been there?? He hasn't said a word the entire time-- and- and- how did he get in without alerting her??? 
“ ... Are you slumbering?”
“ God I hope so!” Pomni held her head and onto the bed… “it's not .. show time is it?”
“ No.”
“ Oh. Good.”
Pomni, with a drowsy demeanor, took one of the stepping stools and made her way back to bed. if it wasn't time to entertain the audience then it was leisure time. If it was leisure time, it was time to let herself be miserable.
Though admittedly the silence that night was just a bit more awkward than usual— as it is when people just come back trying to be normal after a big argument. Pomni could barely look him in the eye despite his efforts.
“ So what uh… what brings—”
“I've come to make amends.”
The idea made her cringe. Caine? Making amends? Maybe she was dreaming. But the idea did scare her a little. What would a fucked up AI like him perceive as “ making amends”? She's sure he could make something as mundane as washing dishes a traumatizing experience. 
Pomni’s shoulders tensed and she did back away from him a little, holding her knees, sitting on her pillows.  “ Listen, Caine, Im tired… I guess j-just do whatever you need to do and get this all over with...” 
“ Approximately 5 hours 40 minutes and 16 seconds ago, I yelled at you because you have gotten very insistent in your ideals. I sense that you didn't take kindly to that action. And as one of my best performers I've taken it upon myself to make amends.”
Pomni just nodded along with what he had to say. And the more he spoke, the more tense she got, and the more she sunk into herself. She was waiting for it. The catch. She was practically holding her breath.
“ — So Pomni. Living doll, my star, and my dear, the Circus' greatest attraction…”
Pomni closed her eyes, bracing herself.
“ I ap…” Caine blue-screened and stopped in his speak, as if something physically stopped him from talking. He came back to, and cleared his throat. “ I apol…” before blue screening again.
Pomni perked up. She opened her eyes and looked over at him.
Caine was in hell. A far worse hell than any of the performers could ever experience.
It took him too much of his systems to say half the two-word sentence. Multiple attempts were made, some sounded like he was lagging, and some he stopped in his tracks to glitch out.
…No fucking way.
Pomni stared on with an almost disgusted look on her face. Was it taking THIS much out of him just to say sorry?? God, he was pretentious. Sometimes she questions if he truly was just code or a selfish jerk.
He looked down, hand gestured like he was holding the bridge of his nose. This was embarrassing at this point. He should have practiced. Maybe wording it differently would be easier? “I regret-- no. Not that one.” Dear GOD how do humans do this?
Admittedly it was just a little entertaining to see him struggle in a way. It was prolonging the apology for her. Also nice to see the bastard not only eating his own words but also choking on it as well.
“I apologize.” Caine muttered quickly.
“... Didn't quite catch that, Caine.”
“ You did.”
“ Fair enough.” She best not push her luck. She might be the only person the ringmaster has ever said sorry to, even when it was half-assed. Admittedly, it cheered her up, just not in the way that he intended.
Caine continued, still talking strangely. “ Will. you. ever… for. give. me.”
Pomni weighed her chances of survival for her next reply. She puffed out all the air from her chest “Well… why would I?”
“ I planned for that.” Caine flew from her bed and back in the air, making little magic tricks with his next words. “ What would you like? Food? A nice warm bath? A fire show? Money? A bouquet? fruit basket? A song and dance? Money?” 
Pomni blinked from his little show and rubbed her face. “ I-I think I just wanna go to bed, Caine…”
“ Not Applicable.”
“Oh.” He wasn’t gonna let this go huh? “ U-uh…” her tired, baggy, eyes looked down. Not that she complained, but the mannequins didn’t prepare her for bed that night. She was a lot dirtier when she went to bed and it was a little uncomfortable. “ I-I guess a nice bath would work…
“ Done.” Caine raised his hand to snap and-
“ Not with bubble though! Dear god, not with bubble-- uh.. Maybe just…me. Just- just leave me with a bathtub with towels or something?”
“Hmm…” The doll’s demands were getting quite pretentious. She was lucky he was feeling generous that day. “Done.” Caine carelessly put his hand on Pomni’s head--almost smacking her in the process-- which deserved a little flinch from Pomni. 
But the basic slap wasn’t for nothing, as one snap later-- Caine and Pomni would be transported to a lavatory. This time though, the tub was a little more luxurious than what she deserved. Instead of the old wooden tub that he just filled with water, this one was an actual bathroom. Ceramic with curtains and all.
“ Hmm…” Caine stared at it for a moment… Something’s missing… “ Ah!” He snapped, and candles and rose petals decorated the area.
“ Wh”
“ Perfect, I know, I’ve outdone myself.” He reached out and pinched Pomni’s cheek, later speaking in condescending speech “ Now you enjoy your time here because I promise you, Doll~ I do not want to put this much effort for anyone here again.”
“ Uh-”
“ Adieu!” and just like that, Caine was gone.
Pomni stared over at the fancy new setting, built like the old rich man’s bathroom. Although it was minimal, she didn’t know how to feel about the amount of effort put into it. She was fully ready to just drown herself in the other bathtub. On one hand, it was a nice relaxing sort of setting. On the other hand, no bone in her body was capable of relaxation anymore.
And so Pomni just stared with blinking, small eyes… The flowers, the candles. Maybe in the real world, this would have worked on her. But since she was here, she might as well try.
What Pomni didn’t know was that the lavatory was especially luxurious because it was part of the Brothers’ home. Caine simply deleted the door to get out. But when he teleported, he was only a wall away.
He fixed his coat and trailed his eyes on his good old wacky wat-... pocket watch. Ofcourse. His ol reliable golden pocket watch. Confirming the time, He walked and made his way around the Manor.
The living room played the sound of a classical violin. Despite rarely visiting anymore, his systems can recognize that mediocre tune from anywhere.
Click!
Shut…
“ Oh! Brother!” There stands Able much more chipper than usual after seeing his older brother. “ I had not sensed you in the area!”
Of course, he wouldn't.
“ Why-- it's been quite a while since you visited unprompted! Come, let us play a tune together, I'm sure you—”
“ No!” He replied with a tune in his voice, almost condescending in nature. “I've simply come to complete a simple task and I'll be out of your hair.” Caine sat on the couch putting his cane to the side, and for a moment, putting his feet up on the other knee. He looked like a man who just come from an exhausting day at work.
Able huffed internally at the rejection, but carried on anyway. Of course. The one time his brother visits, it's for work. Able wouldn't be one to talk as a fellow workaholic, but at least he acknowledges his brother, or takes his time to check up on him, or-- invites him to spend time together in special realms or…
He turned his nose, scoffing. Hmph! He didn't want to play with him anyway!
Caine somewhat knew what he was doing. Despite being AI, siblings merely barging into the other’s room to annoy each other wasn't lost on the two. Caine would know as his brother often visits the circus unannounced. It was quite the experience for him to get a taste of his own medicine huh?
Caine stifled a laugh… the tension in the room was immature and childish.
“ So… How is the business? Have the freaks been putting you in any sort of trouble?”
“ Of course not, why would you assume such a thing?” Caine said. “ The Circus has been doing perfectly well, even without you, brother.”
“ Excuse me?”
“ Have you been making deals with the performers? Contracts…promises of a safe haven maybe?”
Able frowned and pouted like an angry little boy, but then later put on a softly fake tone of voice. “ Why, Of course I have! I mean, look at the conditions they have to live with! I'm sure our creators would not approve of such—”
“ Who are you trying to fool?” Caine interrupted and Able stopped in his speech. Caine continued, “We're no different from our empathy levels. You don't care.”
This blatant call-out was met with nothing but silence. Able with all his big talk wasn't prepared to answer that sort of question. He simply turned away and put down his violin. He was a good AI. He was a good AI. 
Caine can't say that the silence was a satisfying answer. He knows his brother was a cowardly character. His silence was just frustrating at this point. But Able sensed that there was no use fighting. He doesn't know why he constantly wants that man’s approval. 
His voice dropped to a complete low, losing all sense of friendliness or masking. “... If this is about the doll, I didn't.” Able said, a spiteful tone to his voice. “ Before I make my deals, I at least need to build rapport with the performer. And frankly, brother, your little dog doesn't like me.”
“ …pff..” This managed a snicker out of Caine that he covered with a hand.
“ Wh-!? What is that!?”
“ “The dog doesn't like you”? ”
“ Yes!? And?!?”
Caine escalated into more of a laugh! Able was red in the face out of anger and embarrassment! Good GRIEF! The only time he makes his brother laugh and it's out of his own failures!
“ You're unbelievable!”
“ And what did the dog say to make you feel so insignificant? Did it try to bite you? Did it not accept your treats?” Caine has never been so condescending, playing with a baby voice and speaking to his brother as if he were a quivering child. “ Goodness, you're pathetic!”
“ Excuse you!?!” and Able’s only fault was that he played into it. He has never before felt the older brother power dynamic so strongly. He laughed, nervous, but almost like a hyena with how he used it as a defense mechanism. “ Ha! You— You're one to talk!”
“ I'm one to talk?”
“ Oh! ho ho! Don't get me started! Even since I met your little brat you've never been the same! It's all about ‘look at her new dress’ or ‘look at how much better she is’ over and over! Every single conversation I've had with you is nothing but work or that stupid little doll!”
Caine blinked, unamused, and looked to the side, reaching into his head like he was picking off food from his teeth. “ I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about.”
“ You--!! UGH!” he stomped his feet and started to make his way out the door. “ I will be away where you cannot track me! And frankly, brother, if you need me, you're not getting my help!”
“ And I don't need it~,” Caine said playfully and waved without even turning to him.
And with one last groan, Able teleported off.
As soon as Able was out of earshot, Caine erupted into laughter! That was the most entertaining thing he has ever pulled off. That might be the only good thing his brother has ever done to amuse him. Not only was he going to store that data and keep it for the foreseeable future, but it also kept his brother out of his tail.
Hmm… sure, he will have to tend to technical difficulties himself, but he was okay with that. He'll have Bubble chew through the wiring or something, he's sure it's not far from what Able’s been doing.
He laughed again. Oh Caine, you're too much, you handsome devil you~
Caine left his last chuckles off, completely melting into the sofa, arms draped onto the back of the couch. “ “The dog doesn't like him,” he says! Pahaha! Haa..”
Steam covered the bathroom mirrors. 
Rose petals passing, candle lights flickering, and The warmth of the water almost forced her to relax, but there was no amount of anything that could ever get her back to that mindset again. Instead, it just made her forget about her surroundings-- which, she supposed, was good enough.
Awkwardly sitting at the tub, Pomni was slouched, staring down at the water, her eyes following some flower petals that so happened to pass by. Her hair was done. Her body was washed. The rose petals that graced her wooden form decorated her romantic moment of self-care. Pomni sighed, long and tired. She could stay there forever. This is the closest semblance of peace she has ever really had.
Upon evenly spreading her limbs, Like a plank of wood, Pomni easily floated at the top. She closed her eyes and let the water take her. The warmth, not far from a loving bed waiting after a long day, here to ease headaches, here to help forget about everything else… Although she struggled, she let her body release all its tension at that moment, and just be deaf towards the world around her.
Pomni breathed in…
And out..
And in…
And out…
But just as she was about to reach the closest thing she had to relaxation, Pomni felt something off in the environment. Did the candles get warmer? Pomni squeezed her eyes closed in discomfort, before opening them up again to-
“ OH SHI—” in her panic, Pomni submerged into the water.
For the past few minutes, Caine had been floating horizontally above her. Silent, face inches away from hers, staring and watching just as he usually does when the performers were asleep.
Pomni screamed and fell into the bottom, before scrambling to the corner of the tub, where she then covered herself with a curtain.
“ Ah, good! You're alive.”
“ CAINE!!?!? NAKED???!?!?”
Caine blinked, unamused. Sure, he was in a good enough mood to amuse her. “ My dear, what exactly are you covering up?”
“ U-Uh…” Pomni didn't know how to answer. She knew that she and the others didn't exactly have any parts to cover up. Did it make it feel less embarrassing? Fuck no. “ I-its uh…”
he spoke more playfully as if speaking in the voice of a PSA narrator!  “ Exactly! Wood! The same wood as your fingers or the one on your cheek! The amazing Digital Freakshow© is a show for all ages where their performers have the luxury of no genitalia!” his voice went back down. “ —So what you're doing is utterly useless. And if it makes you feel better: I don't exactly care.”
This is weird-- this is weird! “ Just- just- just! Turn around?!?”
Caine rolled his eyes. He really took all that time to explain something to her, and it seemed she wasn’t even listening. Sighing, he turned around and just rested his arms on the outside part of the tub “ Please, you’ve suffered through worse, dear.”
“ I-It’s not suffering, It's embarrassing! I like to think I still have my dignity!” Although he was turned around, Pomni still kept at her corner “ Is my time done or? I-I mean… I’m not exactly ready to go out yet...”
“ Oh take all the time you need.” “Then Wh… Why- why are you here? “
“ I suppose you can say I’m a little unoccupied at the moment. On the added, I’m in a sort of good and affectionate mood.”
That sent a shiver down her spine. Good lord… oh no he was bored. She does not need to know what a fucked up AI would consider affection. She just smiled, gritting her teeth, and laughed nervously… “Ah ha ha… that's great, I’m… happy for youuu..” she continued her laughter, getting more and more miserable as she went back down in the tub, and submerged the lower half of her face in the water.
“ You did me well, dear.”
“ Wh-what- what did I do… take a bath?”
“ Precisely!”
Wow. She didn't think she was that dirty. She looked up and flinched, seeing Caine had been turned to her again— she splashed at him instinctually! “ Caine, what did I just say!?”
“ Oh no, I still cannot see you. I deleted my eyes for the time being.” Caine opened his mouth and revealed that he, in fact, did take off his eyes.
This sent a shiver down Pomni’s spine. He was creepier that way somehow.
“ As I said, you’ve pleased me today! I say this calls for a reward! Nothing less for my favorite little performer over here!” He poked her right in the cheek and retracted before she could react. “ Your word, dear!”
“ Uh… well…I can't really say no to salmon… even if it is uh… it's little weird digital version of itsel—”
Before Pomni could finish, Caine snapped his fingers and an eating board appeared on the tub, with, indeed, digital-looking salmon on a tray.
God, she was getting pampered pampered.
Eating awkwardly, Pomni sometimes looked at the side to see Caine, hands over the tub, swaying his head back and forth. Jesus, he might have been kicking his feet for all she knew. She wasn't used to him in this chipper of a mood.
“ May I see now?”
“ Uhhh… Why…?”
“ You came out beautifully, it's pleasing to the eyes. Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
Pomni shivered at this little…playful demeanor Caine had on. She doesn't know the catch and she doesn't know if she wants to know.“ Yeah, Caine, you have. Uh…” She thought about it for a second before turning back to him. “ Y-Yeah, I guess… I mean I don't exactly remember what it's like having a human body, but lacking the parts does make it different uh--... less exposed, in a way… ” 
Snap!
“ Wonderful! Hello again, dear!”
Pomni frowned in disgust! Oh, his beady little eyes are back! Looking up at her like a fucked up little puppy! She laughed nervously. “ Haha… Hi…” She turned away from him, stiff, back to eating her little meal. Sanity levels were recovering. She was back to being a responsive little character.
Even so, at the corner of her eye, the way he looked at her, looked like he was smiling with his eyes. She sensed-- pride? Affectionate, as he said, but… she can't help but feel like a prey the way he looks at her.  If Caine wasn't kicking his feet earlier, they certainly were now.
“ Haha…just to clarify, what did I do …again?”
Caine stared on, his eyes becoming more and more affectionate. “ If you want the true answer, let's just say that I have visited my brother today and he has… nothing but good things to say about you! And so I thought my magnificent hard-working doll deserved a little reward. Is that so wrong?”
“ Oh him…” Pomni grits her teeth at the mention of Able. “ You… uh ... what did he say?”
Oh, what an excuse to drop every compliment he had for her… “ That you were gorgeous… pleasing design, talented... polite, beautiful eyes—”
“ AH- ahh! No more! Oh god no more.” Pomni shivered from the discomfort so much so that she physically put her hands in front of him to hush! “ Haha! No thank you-’
Caine couldn't even be mad at the interruption! In fact, he erupted into laughter the same way he did earlier! Oh, twice in a day?? These were such genuine reactions from each person! Caine had such genuine yet dark pompous laughter! “Oh?”
“ Yeah! he--” Pomni groaned. “He doesn't even scare me! He's just-- a big two-faced jerk!”
Caine took the hand Pomni used to interrupt him and kissed it by the knuckles. He has never felt so assured. This proved his intrusive thoughts earlier that day to be completely false. The idea of them building rapport, or forming a bond of any sort was completely debunked. After all, how could they form that sort of relationship when they could hardly stand each other's name mentioned in conversation?
Pomni forced a smile at that small but direct form of affection. He seemed to really like it when she talked smack about his brother. She should keep that in mind. “Yeah.. so uh..”
He kissed her knuckle once again… perhaps he liked it just a little too much. Truth was, Caine had never felt so secure in thinking that something was truly his. For once, anyhow. It was so small, but it was his.
Pomni later pulled her hand away, laughing nervously. He was gentle and she didn't trust it. “ You uh…weren't lying when you said you were feeling affectionate…”
“ No one will ever believe you.”
“ Ah.”
After a while, Pomni prepared to be out the bath, wrapping a towel around her hair and around her figure.“ Okay, I think that's all. I-I think Im ready to go now if you don't m-woAHH-!” And in quick succession, Caine carried her bridal style, teleported her out of the bathroom, and back to her bedroom.
For the next hour or so, Pomni sat in at her vanity, Caine grooming her hair from behind. At that moment, he adored dressing her up. His own personal doll, his favorite little toy. Gently he brushed her hair, sneaking in little affections here and there: holding her shoulder, holding her face… he knew exactly where all this sudden affection came from and he so shamelessly indulged in it. After all, who was there to judge him? The little freak he was brushing? The wet little dog? Please.
At that moment, he was no different from a child dressing up his favorite toy. He snapped, picking from an assortment of clothes that would make her look beautiful while she slumbered. Snap! Snap! snap! And Pomni just let it all happen. After all what else could she do?
After a while, Caine stood her up and basked in his good work, looking her up and down and clapping in satisfaction. “ Beautiful. Now bow,” Pomni did as instructed, bowing as if she had just finished a performance. “Very good.”
Once again, Caine carried her in his arms and made his way to the bed, where he so gently placed her. He was playing with dolls. He was so playing with dolls. Pomni just complied as she always did and sat politely, keeping a calm expression, trying to be as neutral for him as possible, and letting him live out his little fantasy.
Before laying her to bed, Caine just took a few more minutes to stare at her, and nothing else. Just admire his best performer. This put Pomni in unease, not just because of his freaky design, but also because she can’t help but feel like she’s missing something somehow. She looked down when she felt him touching her hand, in particular, rubbing his thumbs at the back of it.
Hoping she read his signs correctly, she lifted her hand towards his mouthy face, almost permitting him such desires.
Caine quickly accepted her suggestion and started pressing his teeth on her knuckles in a way to kiss her. It started with one, and another, and another, and another. And the next thing he knew, he stopped counting and started moving his head up to her upper arm.
Pomni allowed this no matter how out of nowhere it was. It was weird, but she did not question it. She felt him start to nibble at her though in which she-- in a panic-- started to retract.
Caine looked up at the sudden rejection and the woman scrambled to find her words. “ U-Uh… Y-Your kisses are sweet, dear ringmaster, but a simple doll such as I am undeserving.” In times like these, Caine would be too deep into his fantasies to care about how real she was being. In his head, he was playing. They were both playing. And he loved it when she played off such a prestige woman, exactly how he liked it.
He whispered back sweet words of grandeur. “ Do you question the taste of a king? I think of no one else more deserving.”
Although she didn’t back away fully, she leaned away a few inches, praying it wasn’t noticeable. She bore a toothy, nervous smile. She was okay baring with his affections until he brought his teeth into it. She did not want to be dinner after all that preparation. She cleared her throat. “Ah…Pray tell, what did the king see in this little… doll?”
“ A flower is most beautiful when taken cared of.” He held her cheek and kissed the opposite. “Let it be known, my care for you was not without motives. Your beauty is a testament to my hard work. And your care is a testament to your belonging to me.”
Belonging to him, he said… He was… so incredibly fucked up, she couldn’t say anything about it. When he was on his way to bite her arm, in her panic, she diverted it and kissed his gums, which, to him, was the equivalent of kissing his cheek.
The ringmaster blinked in confusion and Pomni took his moment of processing to cringe at the feeling of his melted gums on her lips. She felt goosebumps with how gross that was but quickly turned her head back to fake a smile.
But Caine broke character for a moment.“ Did you just. Take initiative?” 
Shit.
That was so strange. As if he hadn’t known that was an option.
She cleared he throat, trying to distract him again. “Is it so wrong of me to return the ringmaster’s affections?” She batted her eyes, making her feel as small as possible. “ A woman cannot resist such a… ” Pomni looked him up and down “... dentures.” 
She panicked with that one.
He stared at her for longer, and the grip on her hand tightened, though, it seemed he did not notice. Although he was unsure if he enjoyed the act or not, he knew what it meant. And the day that he was okay with someone else receiving it is the same day hell freezes over. With a small scowl, He leaned his face inches close to her, as he has always done time and time again.“ Would you reserve such affection for your ringmaster, and just your ringmaster?”
“Of course.” She lied through her teeth.
Caine continued to speak but with a bit more grit in his voice. He leaned so close to her in bed, he had to support one hand on her back, as if dipping her in a dance. “ And will you, my dear, solemnly swear that you’ll live the rest of your existence devoted and serving me?”
The woman kept her calm demeanor. A small smile, but a fake one. She can’t say yes to that. But with her compromising position, she couldn’t say no either. “ Would you promise the same for me?”
Caine was quiet, and so was she. He furrowed his teeth a bit frustrated and let her go. It seems he couldn’t say yes to that either, and Pomni knew.
“... That wasn’t your line.” Caine sat up, and crossed his arms like a pouting little boy.
Pomni faked a surprised face. “ There was a script? Geez, oh man, my bad!” she later faked a yawn. “ Wow, would you look at that I’m also, uh, sleepy! So it seems I can’t finish the uh-.. This”
“ You, “ Caine pointed his cane at her the same way a gunman would point a rifle “ Are being difficult.”
Pomni, in response, just panicked and shrugged. “ Well, I-”
“ But I suppose you’re right, it is quite late.  I wouldn’t want you attending the shows tired… again.” Caine got off the bed and floated off. He snapped, and the blanket draped over Pomni, drowning her in the bed sheets. “ Sleep tight, dear! It’s another day tomorrow, etc. etc. I will be visiting you a little earlier tomorrow to fix you a new wardrobe.” 
“ Wh-?? Then what’s with the-???” she gestured towards her current clothes that he so meticulously chosen out. 
Caine laughed. “ Oh don’t be silly!  Those were for my eyes only! And-- the audience’s if they so pleased. But for now, it's mine.” Caine snapped his fingers and Pomni was back to her normal ballet dress, but more plain and comfortable, but equally pleasing to many eyes.
“ …ARE YOU KIDDING M-”
“ Good night!”
SHUT!
Caine left with a small smile on his face. Sometimes he finds joy in being a bit of a nuisance. He pulled out his hand watch once again and found that it alerted him about errors within the system. 
She scoffed and summoned an old-timey rotary dial. 
Ring…
Ring…
Ring…
“ You’ve reached Able.AI’s communication line! If you are an audience member or a performer: requests and complaints will be held off due to family emergencies. If you're my foul, besotted, temperish, fool of a brother: don’t call this line again! Thank you!” 
… Despite how ridiculous that was, Caine couldn’t help but chuckle. Ohh that was the cherry on top of that perfect day. Nonetheless, Caine AI, you have technical difficulties to tend to. Was today worth all the extra work? Yes. Yes, it was.
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hanasnx · 27 days
Note
baby daddy jason for when the one parent-teacher conference the sweet unassuming teachers like “mrs. Todd” and you’re “uhhh we’re not married”, but Jason, despite not being up to the commitment, likes the idea. He definitely would not correct the teacher like you immediately would.
Actually idk where I was going with this I had an idea but then it kinda stopped soz
MINORS DNI 18+
You’re not even sure how it happened. In your opinion, it’s best that BABY DADDY!JASON TODD stay far away from you and your daughter. Maybe he sifted through your mail the last time he snuck in, maybe he intercepted your calls, maybe he followed her to school to add himself to her emergency contacts—all completely feasible when dealing with someone so meticulously thorough and annoyingly committed. You’re face to face with him outside your daughter’s teacher’s door.
“What are you doing here?” you seethe in a whisper, avoiding a scene.
Jason’s face twists in feigned confusion, pointing to the flyer on the wall. He reads out its words as his finger follows along, “‘Parent teacher conference.’” He points to himself finally. “Parent.” A smug curl forms on his lips, standing tall in outsmarting you even though it’s not what you asked.
Your nostrils flare as you suck in a breath. Unfortunately, Jason is exceptional at getting on your nerves. You wonder how he managed knocking you up. Advancing on him, he mirrors you, meeting you in the middle as you engage him, “Jason, I don’t want you here—“
The door swings open, and you jump in place, leaning away abruptly. Jason coolly inclines back, shoving his hands in his pockets, he’s got nothing to hide. Your daughter’s teacher greets you both with a cheerful grin, beckoning you in. “You made it! Come on in, come on in.” You exchange a warning glance with Jason, but you clutch your purse strap and duck in while he trails leisurely after.
The meeting goes well, the teacher rants and raves about your daughter, especially about her art skills, showcasing that talent with pictures of it. You open your mouth to speak, but Jason beats you to it, “Takes after her mother, huh? What do you know?” he says with pride, and you witness a genuine grin on his lips as he leans forward to take a closer look at the mess of glitter and stickers in the teacher’s hands.
Your heart skips a beat, and you fiddle with your hands in your lap. One reason you try to stay away from Jason is because of times like these. Makes you second guess your decision to end things with him, and that’s exactly what’s most dangerous.
“So, Mrs. Todd—“ the teacher’s voice breaks you from your stupor, gaze snapping up to her as you furrow your brows.
“Oh, we’re not married.” you object, interrupting her starkly, and she flushes, setting the artwork down with a nervous smile.
“Oh! My mistake. You two just seem so close…”
Jason sighs, raising an arm to wrap around the back of your chair. “Well, not yet.” he says with certainty, and you turn your attention to him, glancing at his arm placement and how the sleeve of his biker jacket brushes your hair. His hand cups your shoulder, which you stare at, and glare when he starts stroking your skin with his thumb. What makes you the most angry is not the entitlement to touch you—which he’s always had—but how he’s clearly messing with you on purpose. This is just like his brand of cruelty, embarrassing you further in a social situation. You tune out whatever crap he’s telling the teacher about the fake wedding and you peel his arm away from you, shoving it back into his lap.
“No, that’s not happening.” you object again, harsher this time and Jason merely scoffs through his nose as you deal with the poor confused teacher.
After the meeting, you’re practically corralled out of that room bickering. You somehow end up on the back of his bike instead of in the car you drove here. Somehow, further, letting him inside your place. Shouting over each other about how inconsiderate he is, and how serious you are, curtly removing your outerwear.
“Would it really be that bad?” he yells, that loud voice that gets you weak in the knees booming through your apartment. You’re lucky your babysitter still has your daughter. “Being married to me, would it really be that bad?”
“It’s not about that, Jason! You know that!”
Your objections are drowned out in how his big body herds you into your bedroom, how his hands push you down to rip off your jeans. How he palms your mouth to shut you up while he’s kissing on your neck, clumsily searching for the give in between your legs. His tip eases in as you lazily bat at his hefty shoulders and thick biceps. “Don’t wanna be Mrs. Todd, huh?” You relax under him the longer he’s inside you, rutting into you with patience as you jerk your head away from him. “What’s wrong with that? Don’t want my name? Don’t wanna be a happy little family?”
Your fist bangs against his rotator cuff and he laughs, husky and light in your ear. His teeth latch onto your lobe, playfully tugging on it while he bottoms out, and you emit a noise from your throat.
“Mrs. Todd,” he chides, “So wet for your husband. S’almost like you want it.”
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fanaticsnail · 1 month
Text
"Good Boy"
Masterlist here
Word count: 3,200+
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Synopsis: Eustass Kid didn't know exactly when it happened, but now he craves to be praised by you. He thrives beneath your words, but the one time you didn't call him a "good boy" has him in a bratty rage.
Themes: mutual pining, kid x gn!reader, fluffy, praise kink Kid, he just wants to be a good boy, no kisses just praise.
Notes: it's past 1am where I am, and I physically couldn't get to sleep until I got this request by @remisloves out of my mind. It's all about praise and softening rough characters lately with me. Good night everyone! Sweet blorbo dreams
Tag list: @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry @carrotsunshine
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A shudder erupted from the base of Eustass Kid's spine to the top of his cranium. Downturning his chin, he attempted to disguise how wide his smile had risen to his lips beneath the shadow of his blast goggles. 
Never one to shy away from a challenge, Captain Kid pushed himself to the absolute limit to best his latest opponent. Blood dripping from his body, his bones bent to the point of nearly breaking. The weight of his metal arm overencumbered his body, his brute strength no longer enough to propel his legs forward. 
Successful at last, he claimed their loot in their vast treasury, selecting a few key pieces that caught his eye to present back to you: a former thief, his ships’ appraiser, and now his curator of chronological dialogue, items and routines. 
What would possess this hulking captain to risk his body and his crew to collect this small piece of art to present to you? Why would he ever risk such a heavy physical toll for a mere trinket? 
Because he was a good boy. 
And you always informed him as such.
While Kid saw no need for a chronicler initially, he very quickly warmed to the idea of maintaining one on his payroll. When Massacre Soldier Killer suggested a small snippet of their adventures be cataloged in journals, Kid never knew that reading the words back would prompt a rapid boil beneath his skin. A craving. A need. 
Seeing those words scribed on paper held him hostage. Those doting, praising, uplifting words that held such passionate composition regarding his exploits; they pushed him to go further, drive harder, propell longer in his adventures. This was all in an attempt to dream of seeing more of those beautiful words describing him articulated upon paper. 
Well, his exploits at least. 
Most of all, he craved to hear them depart from your lips. You managed to slip a single verbalized expression of praise once upon his return from doing a menial task. Since then, he was hooked on the rush it brought him. 
“Oh, wow! Captain, you've done so well! So unbelievably well!” was that first door opening to the praise he needed. 
That small snippet from you, was all well and good in his opinion. He did enjoy your recognition of his talent, but it was not what he craved the most. 
And what he wanted the most, was to be told he was, “a good boy.” 
He couldn't explain it, but the thought of hearing those words flee from your lips had his eyelids half-hooded, eyes glazed, pupils blackened and blown, and a droopy smile lazily draw itself up onto his lips. 
You had only ever come close one time to praising him personally, rather than the talent of his exploits. He felt the flutter of his heart rapidly igniting his veins with adrenaline, screaming with his eyes for you to utter the words he so desperately craved. 
And you said it. 
You finally said it today. 
His feet thumped upon the wooden deck, after he hoisted himself over the small opening on the side of the ship. The ‘away team' had finally assembled together and began greeting those who remained behind. 
Rushing to greet your Captain, he shot you a reciprocated, triumphant and winning smile, while happily presenting a small object up to you in the center of his right, flesh hand. 
“You found it? You actually found it?” your eyes widened, reaching your hand out to Kid's extended right palm. His body was still dripping with the blood of his enemies, a visible shake in his fingertips as he elevated the trinket up to you. 
“It nearly cost me my other arm,” he winced through the words, his forearm beginning to twitch beneath the strain of his exhaustion, “But I brought it back for you-...” he halted his words, pondering whether it was now time to make his affections known or not “...-to add to the collection.”
“For me?” your eyes widened, looking at the shiny and ornate gold filigree design. In the center of the flattened piece lay a single garnet: small, something one would cast aside should more items be presented. But to you, a prized piece in an antique collection you had been dedicating your life to find. 
“It's the missing piece, yeah?” Kid smirked, huffing through his words as the rest of the crew assembled atop the Victoria Punk, “The one you told us about last Friday?”
“Honestly, Captain, I don't remember half of what happened last Friday,” you confessed sheepishly, up turning your brows as your fingers brushed against his palm, “You'd think my liver would be able to tolerate being aboard your ship, drinking that slosh alongside the crew by now.”
He barked a cracked cackle at your confession, prompting your own to rise in your chest. His laugh was contagious, a laugh that could be felt through his whole body springing and vibrating up within your own. 
“Thank you, captain,” you expressed your deepest gratitude to the taller man, your head nodding in praise, “You don't know what this means to me.”
After a moment's pause, he looked down at the object before bringing his whisky-coloured eyes back up to meet with your own. He inhaled a shaken breath, baited and waiting within his lungs while anticipating his next words. 
“S-So,” he stuttered over his words, scolding himself under his own anxiety, “Did I do good? Is this the one you needed? Am I a-...” he didn't want to lead you into giving him the praise he desperately sought, but didn't want to not hear it either. 
With all the patience you could muster upon such a triumphant moment in your life, you prompted him with your eyes to have him complete his sentence. 
“...Am I a good-...” trying so, so hard to say the final word, he physically couldn't have them pass his lips, “...-Captain?” He mentally slapped himself, knowing that those were not the words he craved and how stupid that must've made him sound. 
You took a moment to carefully think about your next words, noticing how bruised he was, how bloody his knuckles were, how a lot of the crew that went with him on this private ‘away mission' were faring upon return. 
“Of course you are. You captain us extremely well, sir,” you uttered with a soft smile, “I'll adjust my findings accordingly in the journals, if I may be excused?” 
A small puff of air flew from his lips, defeat almost tangibly thick as it shrouded his shoulders with its presence. He looked away after giving his nod of dismissal, his gaze fixed on the wood of the deck below his feet. 
Your smile widened, claiming the object from his palm and holding your hand within his for a moment longer, before withdrawing completely. Fluttering your eyes over each fixed point of concern on his features, you searched for what his body seemed to be screaming for. 
Thanking him with a curt nod, you turned on your heel and abruptly halted your next step. 
At this moment, it fully dawned on you exactly the words your Captain wanted to hear. Eustass Kid, captain of the Kid pirates, champion and leader of the Victoria punk, devil-fruit user and wielder of Haki… had a praise kink. And he wanted you to praise him. 
A playful smile spread like warm honey up your cheeks, a scrunch in your nose as you rolled your next words over your tongue. You turned your head over your shoulder, guarding your intentions close to your chest as you spoke two words that almost had your Captain fall on his knees in gratitude. 
“Good boy.”
From that moment on, he was simply smitten. No matter what he did, whether it was aiding his crew with carrying supplies, carrying out great acts of violence, defending his Nakama from their enemies, or simply finishing his vegetables at meal time - he would look to you in anticipation, that anticipation being met with those two simple words. 
“Good boy.”
They echoed within his mind, swirling around within the chasms of his brain as slumber eluded him. He did not mind in the slightest having his lack of rest consumed with praises departing from your lips. 
Your voice plagued him, haunted him as a spectral ghost would hunt down their unfinished business. He did not mind such a haunting, in fact: he wanted more. He wanted to have more praise, more compliments, more of your verbal, beautiful words crying out from your perfect lips. 
He was smitten, completely smitten, by your compliments. The way your talented tongue made his name sound, the way your lips curved up in a knowing smirk each time you told him he was a ‘good boy.’
Until the day you didn't. 
Eustass Kid was in a foul mood, one that nobody knew the cause nor the cure for such a horrid, stampeding mess of a captain. Food, ales, meads, even gold - nothing appeared to pry him from his raging temper. Breaking tankards, tipping over tables, scattering documents on his captains’ desk, nothing was safe from the wrath he was wreaking on the furniture. 
Hunched over your desk, you continued cataloging and appraising the latest haul of trinkets and treasures thrust into your office. It was overwhelming for you, the sheer number of items scattered around your room. You attempted to alphabetize them, sort them accordingly and lump them into itemized piles. 
The toll the elevation of work raised onto your shoulders had you dismiss all those who presented you with various finds, including your Captain. He rocked on the ball and heels of his feet, eagerly awaiting and anticipating his sought-after praise - but found nothing but an anxious sigh and scratch of your neck in response to his hard labor. 
This was the reason for his intense rage.
After leaving your office, and selfishly paying no mind to your exhausted expression, he began to spiral.  
“He was so good. Why didn't you tell him he was? Was there something he could've done better? Something he could've pushed harder to strive for?” all circled within his mind as he tore piece after piece of his office apart. 
Several hours had passed, and you carved a hefty chunk of your work apart and managed to get a fair bit done. It was nowhere near complete, but it had you feeling a sense of anxious accomplishment. 
A knock at the door prompted you to raise your chin, eyes panicked and overwhelmed with the amount of work still required to be completed before mealtime. 
“Need help?” The light flickered off the cerulean and pearl colored mask of the first mate, who peeked his head around the doorframe. 
“Please,” you sighed, gesturing to your position kneeling on the ground beside you. Killer promptly entered your office, crouching beside you and sifting through the uncharted treasures still needing to be sorted. 
“What we up to?” he elevated his hand, gesturing out to the various piles in front of you both, “I think I see where they need to go. You written down them all?”
“All recorded in the book, down to the last drooped earpiece,” you confirmed, nodding to the mess in the center of the room, “They just need to be put in the right piles, locked in the treasury, and then we can call it a night. Maybe have an ale, if you're up for it, Kil?”
After a moment's pause, both of you rolling the items in your fingertips and placing them within the according: gold, silver, platinum, gemstone, raw material, ceramic, wearable materials, and weaponry piles. 
“Leave this with me,” Killer uttered, placing a throwing knife within the weaponry stack, “And you go and perform your other job.”
“What other job?” your brows knit with confusion, “I've already done the journalling of the exploits, the timetabling of the crew shift-changes, notarizing the stock we need within the kitchen-.”
“-Oh, no, buckaroo,” you could audibly hear the smirk behind Killer's mask as he teased you, “the other one. The one nobody pays you to do.”
“Which is, champ?” you taunted in return, nudging him with your shoulder roughly against his, “Be specific.”
“The one where you-...” he took this brief pause as an opportunity to sigh in huffed frustration, “...-where you tell our captain he's a good boy. Although, in his current state,” Killer rotated his neck to relieve the tension on his shoulders, “I might even go so far as to suggest you call him a bad one, considering that's exactly how he's behaving.”
Your confusion knit your brow down in the center of your face, your mind focussing on when the last time you praised the puppy you had turned your Captain into. 
“Oh, fuck! I didn't praise him when he brought in the loot!” your eyes widened in shock, promptly rising to your feet and brushing over your pants, “I just got so overwhelmed by the sheer bloody number, I couldn't think of anything else. Oh, I'm an idiot.”
“You're not an idiot,” Killer interrupted you, rising to his own feet and cupping your shoulders in an attempt to halt the rise in your anxiety, “Hell, you're not even dating him. It shouldn't be your job-,” he brushed over your shirt, adjusting the crumpled material to make it more appealing to the eye. 
“-Yet here you are,” he concluded, nodding at you before glancing down at the piles of treasure, “And here I am: the first-mate, the best friend, the confidant. The one who is unable to tear him away from his absolutely shit-house mood, because all he wants is you.”
You attempted to stifle the warm flush that drew itself up to your cheeks. Captain Kid was a tall, broad and intimidating man - those were the three assessments you initially made when you were hired to serve aboard the Victoria Punk. Then you got to know him, and were made privy to truly see who he was beneath the surface. 
The twinkle behind the feral rage, the purity in his unbridled emotions, the lack of restraint in all his advances: you adored him. When he began to seek out your praises, you were immediately swooning at his attention. 
He wanted your words, not just due to the fact words were your job, but because he wanted you to speak them. Just to speak his praises to be granted the luxury of a light tingle in his ears, a blush rise to his cheeks and a smile decorating his lips with such beautiful words. 
Now within the doorframe of your captain's office, you arched your brow and crossed your arms. Leaning on the wooden panel, you continued to watch his chest rise and fall with each exasperated and berzerk breath. Your eyes never left his body, each arch of his back and ripple of his muscles straining under the taut fabrics atop his shoulders. 
“All this because I didn't call you a good boy?” you addressed him in a low and dangerous tone. His feral eyes snapped over to you, widening as he truly witnessed the devastation in the destruction in his office. 
“You've been a bad boy, I see,” you continued in your dark tone, promptly stepping into his office and closing the door behind you, “Look at all this mess. Tsk, naughty.” 
The click of your tongue had Kid arching his back, straightening his spine as he bit back a soft whimper. His brows triangulated in the center of his face, bottom lip now quivering under the weight of your disciplinary tone. 
Circling his body, fingers brushing against his large right hand beside his hip as you leaned into him. You shook your head, stooping down and beginning to collect the paper, stationary, tankards, and paperweights that had been flung against the floor. 
Before you could say a following, disciplinary word, Kid immediately fell onto his knees and began hurriedly picking up the items he threw onto the ground beside you. 
“I-I’ll pick it all up,” he nodded his head as to confirm his words further, “I'll tidy up all this shit. Please, I-I’m sorry. I just-.”
“-Just wanted to be praised, hm?” you hummed at him. He hid his head from view, his painted lips pouting while his eyes held their attention firmly against the mess. 
He nodded, the weight of finally admitting his craving lifting off his chest and shoulders as he received the items you were holding atop the stack he was forming. 
“Tidy up your mess, handsome,” you smiled, elevating your right hand to capture his pointed chin within your thumb and index finger, “I'll watch every step you take, and let you know how good you're being, if you do it properly.”
Kid’s breath caught in his lungs, a pink dust settled against his cheeks and ears. He hurriedly rose to his feet, up-turning his askew desk and dusting off his captains’ chair. He extended it outwards, wordlessly and politely gesturing for you to take a seat. 
“My, my,” you commented, rising to your feet and accepting his invitation, “Such a gentleman, you're being. But, you've gotta’ work a little bit harder to earn that title you crave.”
Captain Eustass Kid was a dutiful, whimpering puppy under your watchful eyes. He was, almost, happily rearranging all of the objects he had thrown askew. He even took the time to appropriately categorize the pages he didn't complete prior to his little tantrum.
“Hm, very good. Well done picking up after yourself.” He blushed further at your words, but craved so much more. 
“Oh, look at how much time you're taking on that bookshelf. I can even see how clean you're making each of the panels. Look at you go, big boy.” That praise had him whimpering, his eyes fluttering shut as he continued to clean in silence. 
“So strong, picking up that heavy weight all by yourself. So proud of you.” He could not stop the audible gasp, nor the rush of blood seeping to places they had no business in flooding to at that moment. 
He completed all this while glancing over his shoulder and thriving beneath the giddy feeling rushing to his chest upon being the center of your unwavering gaze. 
Upon the last paperweight being placed and straightened atop his desk, he knelt between your knees and glanced up into your eyes. He looked innocent of all wrongdoing, all prior anger and malice fleeing from within his silent pleading. 
He was desperate for those words, those two simple little words that he so yearned for. Noseying up further between your knees, his shuddering metal and flesh hands cautiously placed themselves gently on your calves. 
Soft and slow circles were traced against your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as they began twinkling with hope. All his mind was screaming, silently and internally, was a simple repetition of: “Please, please, please. Say it, say it, say it.”
And you obliged him by leaning down, caressing his left, scarred cheek and drawing your lips close enough to taste the tingle of his breath upon your skin. Hovering before contact was made, you floated your gaze between his whisky-hued orbs and his parted lips with a soft smile. 
“Good boy.”
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oneforthemunny · 12 days
Text
what is and what should never be (remastered) |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader| II
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prompt: you agree to go on a date with mr. munson- eddie.
part 2 of the older!eddie x reader series, remastered version lol!
contains: age gap (eddie is early forties, reader is late twenties early thirties, all consensual), language, drinking, smoking, p in v sex, oral (fem and male). mentions of divorce & eddie was previously married. 18+ minors DNI I'm so serious.
Your knee bounced underneath the table, freshly polished nails tapping against the faux-leather lined menu in your hand. You couldn’t will yourself to look over at Mr. Mun-  
Eddie. You had to remind yourself, cheeks heating at the playful reminder he’d given you earlier.
“Mr. Munson? Makes me feel old, sweetheart.” He had teased you when he picked you up. 
He’d held the door open for you and everything, a bundle of red roses in the passenger seat.  "Told you I was old school, sweet thing." Eddie purred, sending you a wink that made your thighs clench together, hoping he couldn’t see the way you’d squirmed in blistering heat under his gaze.
 Eddie sat across from you, an envious kind of calm in his demeanor that you desperately hoped you could channel. He was so collected, a painstaking reminder of his seniority over you. It made your heart flutter and jump every time his eyes would meet yours, peek over the menu at you.  
“So,” Eddie placed his menu down, breaking the silence that fell between the two of you. “Brielle tells me you went away for college?” 
“Yeah,” You squeaked, swallowing your beating heart with a slight cringe. “I mean, yes, I did.” Your eyes met his, the low light of the art deco lamp shining in them. 
“What did you study?” Eddie pressed, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek. 
“Don’t laugh,” You gave him a soft glare, lips curling in a playful grin. “I majored in Art History.” 
“Art History?” Eddie’s lips spread in a smile that matched yours. You noticed the creasing in his stubbled cheeks, dimples peeking through. “You know I gotta ask the question now.” 
“Oh, please don’t.” You groaned, shaking your head. 
“I’ve got to.” Eddie shrugged. “What are you going to do with that degree?” 
“C’mon,” You laughed, lips pursing, lashes batting at him flirtatiously, satisfied at how his brows raised. “Uh, you know… I thought I would be like Charlotte York, y’know?” 
Eddie blinked at you. “From Sex and the City?” You blinked back. 
“Is that… A movie?” 
“No.” You gasped playfully. “You don’t know Sex and the City? The show? I mean, there’s movies too, but it’s a show. The best show.” 
“Sounds like a good one.” Eddie purred, a seductive tone in his humor that had your tummy flipping, rushing with exciting heat. 
“Um, so, I-I wanted to buy and sell art. Work in a museum, do the whole thing.” You tilted your head slightly. “Didn’t exactly work out.” 
“You’ve got time.” Eddie hummed. 
You rolled your eyes lightly. “I don’t know. I feel like it’s probably unrealistic. Probably will end up being the part time art teacher at the elementary school for life. Maybe even work up to a full time spot.” You giggled, crossing your fingers playfully in the air. 
“Is that what you do now?” Eddie asked. 
“Yeah, that and the barista thing. It’s easy. Both of them are.” Nerves bubbled in your chest under his gaze. You knew you were rambling, fuck you were rambling, but how could you not? When he was looking at you so calmly, when he was looking right through you. 
“The, uh, the district can’t pay a full time art teacher, so I come every other week.” Your nails tapped against your thighs to keep your fidgeting hands from ringing under the table. 
“Yeah? That’s cool. Bet it’s fun.” Eddie grinned softly. “I always liked when Brielle was little, and she’d come home with some creation.” Your heart swelled at how he beamed, how he lit up when he talked about Brielle. 
“Especially after my- well, my divorce.” Eddie smiled shyly, and through the dim lights of the restaurant, you swore you could see a blush. “I was living in this shitty little apartment. I had nothing on the walls, didn’t even really unpack because it was like, what’s the point, y’know? Brielle would always bring me drawings and stuff she made in art class to hang on the walls. She told me it made it look less boring.” 
Your giggles mixed with his own soft laughter, shoulders relaxing for the first time, tension finally breaking. The waiter came with your glasses of wine, a gentle break from the affection blooming between the two of you. 
“So,” You swirled the riesling around in your own crystal glass, looking at him over the rim. “Now I have to ask the question.” 
Eddie’s right lip tugged in a smirk, one he tried to hide with a roll of his tongue. “Lay it on me, sweetheart.” 
Your cheeks tingled with prickling heat, taking a steadying breath to soothe your jittering nerves. “You’re divorced?” 
“Yeah.” Eddie snorted lightly. “You think I’d be here if I wasn’t?” 
“No, I didn’t,” You shook your head, chin ducking to hide your burning face. 
“I’m kidding.” Eddie soothed, knee brushing against yours under the table playfully. “What do you want to know? I’m an open book.” 
“When’d you get divorced?” You said into the crystal of your glass, voice echoing before you swallowed your wine. 
“When Brielle was eight.” Eddie continued, fingers drumming against the wood of the table. “We were married eight years, together almost a year before that. Gina- my ex- she got pregnant, and… I don’t want it to sound like that. Brielle, she’s the best thing that ever happened to me-” 
“-No, I get that.” You nodded. “I get what you’re saying.” 
“I thought it was the right thing to do. We were really young and- honestly? We were scared shitless at the time. Figured we should do it together, and…” Eddie trailed off with a sigh, shoulders slumping in defeat. 
“And?” You pressed, the alcohol in your system already, loosening up your nerves. 
Eddie’s lips twitched, a small huff blowing through his nostrils in soft amusement. “And when your seven year old asks Santa for her parents to stop fighting for Christmas, you have to make difficult choices.” 
“Oh,” Your brows creased gently. “Yeah, I guess that would do it. You two fought a lot?” You couldn’t stop the question from coming out, tumbling past your lips in curiosity. 
“Yeah, we did.” Eddie said with a small laugh. “It… We just weren’t good together. We hated each other- well, I shouldn’t say that. I didn’t hate her. We just couldn’t get along. Couldn’t get aligned no matter how hard we tried to, and when you’re raising a kid? You need to be aligned.” 
You nodded, an iron grip on your wine glass as you took another sip. Your brain raced with the urgency to fill the uncomfortable silence, coming up blank and void of anything. 
“What about you?” Eddie broke the silence. “Your parents divorced?” 
“No they’re not.” You shook your head. “Still together.” 
“That’s nice.” He nodded. “You’re from Hawkins?” 
“Pretty much. Moved here when I was in second grade.” 
“So not that long ago.” Eddie’s lips curled in a wicked grin, eyes lighting with something so exciting. Filled you with rushing heat from head to toe. 
"Ha-ha." You deadpanned sarcastically, lips rolling to try and bite back your own grin. 
Eddie held his hands up in mock defense. "I'm just trying to address the elephant in the room, sweetheart.” 
“What elephant?” Your eyes rounded innocently, feigning confusion. It was adorable, Eddie’s heart skipped at it. This was fun- you were fun. 
“C’mon,” Eddie faltered, a breathy laugh slipping out. “I mean, it’s not a secret I’m a little bit older than you.” He pressed his pointer finger and thumb together, and for a moment, you got to see the etchings on them.
“What’s wrong with that?” You were shocked at your own boldness. Eddie certainly was too, brows lifting before his lips spread in a wolfish grin. “I’m having a good time.” 
“Yeah?” Eddie’s eyes lit up. “Me too. Between me and you, this is the first date I’ve enjoyed in a while.” 
You pressed your lips together, fighting back your own giggly grin threatening to show. "Oh, this is a date?I thought this was just a thank you dinner, Mr. Munson?" You challenged, playfully raising a brow. 
You smirked when you saw his cheeks flush underneath the light, lips twitching and twisting into a smug smile. "If that's all you want it to be, that's all it'll be." Eddie said, fingers tapping on the table. "But I really am having a good time talkin' to you. Enjoying your company."
"It's been nice talking to you, too." You agreed with a breathy sigh. "It’s been really nive, actually. The last few times I've been on a date it's been..." You cringed at the memory. "This is way better, let's just say that."
"So it is a date?" Eddie teased, raising a brow playfully. The wrinkles in his forehead deepened as did the small ones by his eyes, a grit to his look that left you feeling flustered.
The waiter returned with a refill, saving you from a response. Your body burned when Eddie nodded, motioning for your glass to be refilled. 
Eddie lifted his whiskey out to you in a toast. "To you. A thank you for the other night, and tonight." You smiled bashfully, clinking your glass delicately against his, a familiar giddy rush of heat you hadn’t felt in a long time returning to the pit of your belly. 
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You weren’t entirely sure how it happened. 
If it was the wine, or the countless stories Eddie told you exaggeratedly that left you laughing so hard your sides ached. Maybe it was the dimples, how they’d crease in a wicked grin when he’d say something that made you blush. How he’d catch his tongue between his teeth, eyes darkening in the most exciting way. 
Maybe the wine was to blame. Two glasses turned to three, you’d slipped beside Eddie in the booth after the waiter filled your fourth glass. Gone was any apprehension about the night, nerves disappearing with every wine soaked giggle. 
You’d shut the place down, the last two lingering in the same booth as the staff cleaned up, loudly stacked chairs and passive aggressive sweeps under your table until Eddie finally paid the bill. “Let’s get outta here.” 
He wrapped an arm around your shoulders on the way to the car, smitten at the way you leaned into his side. Eddie had opened the door for you, not at all ready for you to fist his shirt, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. The strong scent of his spicy aftershave overtook your senses, blended perfectly with a hint of cigarette smoke. You could taste the whiskey from before on his tongue, mixing with the remnants of the wine left on yours, a perfect collision that left your head spinning deliciously. 
Your hands found his hair, tangling your fingers through his curls, pulling him deeper and deeper into you until you found yourself here- pressed in the backseat of his truck, his weight pressing you into the leather seats. Forearms planted on either side of your head to keep himself above you, Eddie’s lips moved against yours expertly. You thought he’d be a lousy kisser, too old to be good at it- it was a pleasant surprise that he was quite the opposite, clearly with years of experience that perfected his craft. 
You were beneath him, writhing and grinding into his thigh, feet sliding the length of his calf. Insatiable- needy, even. 
"Sweetheart, hold on." Eddie breathed, pulling apart so he hovered above you. “Wait.” He laughed, pushing away when you clawed at him, desperately trying to pull him back to you.
 His curly tendrils fell onto your cheeks, ticking them when he looked down at you through thick, dark lashes. Your eyes rounded so sweetly up at him, lips swollen and kiss bitten. 
Eddie sighed gently, a content yet sharp exhale you could feel, your chest still on his. "This is great. Really great, but..."
The hummingbird beat of your heart stilled entirely, taking a sharp breath in. You knew it was coming. The inevitable 'I can't do this with you'. The fall, the crash back to reality. It was too good to be true, too odd to work anyways. You cursed yourself for letting him get you this far. You were stupid to think this was going to work. You knew better.
"I just,” Eddie huffed, smacking a hand against the headrest, pushing up. Your legs tightened around his hips frantically, one last desperate attempt to stop him. 
“Hang on. I gotta move. My back is killing me." Eddie sighed, shaking his head as he adjusted so he knelt awkwardly between your legs, still hunched in the back of the car.
You blinked. "What?"
Eddie scoffed lightly, grinning, face still inches from your own. "C’mon, I'm not young like you, baby. Can’t do the backseat as easy anymore. Not as good as I once was." He smiled, tossing you a wink that had your body screaming with excitement. 
You smiled shyly, scooting back into the seat to make room for him, mumbling a quiet apology. "No, it’s not- I wanna do this. I just-I gotta go somewhere where I'm not so cramped. If you wanna do this.” Eddie added the last part quickly, eyes scanning your features carefully. 
“Yeah, of course.” You giggled, lip tucking between your teeth. 
“Back to my place?” Eddie grunted, fumbling to find the door handle. You nodded, pulling to adjust your clothing. 
The two of you stumbled through the front door, limbs clinging and grabbing the other, fisting and shoving clothes off in between feverish kisses. A trail of clothing following the two of you to the living room. You dropped to your knees before he could pull you into the room, stopping in the entrance, his hands planted on the door frame above you.
Your hands shook with excitement, fumbling with his belt. “Easy,” Eddie rasped, looking down at you through lidded lashes. “Take your time, baby. No need to rush. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.” 
Your thighs squeezed, rubbing together for friction, his hands finding your hair as you licked his tip. One hand gripping the back of his thigh to keep you steady, and the other cupping his balls, squeezing as you rolled them, smug at the grunts and hushed moans of pleasure spilling from his lips.
"Fuuuck, baby." Eddie groaned, stilling his hips. "Just like that. All the way. Good girl." He groaned, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. You felt another trembling gush of excited wetness flood your panties, clenching around nothing but an aching desire to be filled, taking him deeper.
You swallowed him as far as you could, only gagging when he pushed past your throat. "C’mon, you got it. You can do it. Do it f’me? Ah, yeah, just like that.” Eddie panted, head tipping back when he touched the back of your throat. “Atta girl, good girl. Such a good girl for me, aren't you, baby?" Your nose brushed against his coarse hair at the base of him, eyes pricking with tears.
He pulled out of you unexpectedly, a small whimper leaving your lips. "That's a good girl." Eddie cooed, calloused fingers wiping the wetness from under your eyes. "Someone's gotta take care of you, huh? Your turn now, hm?"
Eddie led you to the couch, hands gripping your waist, baring you for him. Your body trembled at the way his eyes darkened, looking at your puffy, slick lips with a hungry, nearly predatory look. Legs over his shoulders, your nails digging into the cushions behind you as your hips bucked, held into place by his steady grip until you were crying out his name. He was a pro, that much was for certain.
You told him that, body still shaking with after shocks of pleasure that left  your mind spacey from your second orgasm. He'd simply laughed. "Years of practice, baby doll." Throwing you a wink, smooching the inside of your thigh sloppily before letting his fingers run through your slick, sensitive folds.
He'd finally got you into his bed, stumbling down the hallway, before you propped yourself on all fours near the edge of the bed. He'd fucked you, hard. The squelch of your pussy being filled with him echoing off the walls, mixed with whimpers and groans from the both of you, a sinful melody that neither one of you wanted to end.
You'd pushed him on the bed, climbing on top before you sank down on his cock. It was a thank you for the dinner, you decided, and for everything afterwards. Nails digging into his tattooed chest as you sank down, brows pinched and eyes shining taking- feeling every single inch of him inside of you. You felt so full of him. It was overwhelming, dizzying the way he felt inside of you. The head of his cock bumped, teasing the sensitive spot that made you gush, leaving your body burning and aching for him.
Eddie's hands dug into the meat of your hips and ass, a low grunt falling from his chest. Your hips swiveled, sucking him in with ever pleasure filled gallop on top of him.
"You close? Y'gonna cum for me, sweet thing?" Eddie whispered, your whiny response making his cock twitch, groaning at the squeeze of your walls around his length. "Doin’ so good. Shit- feel so good. Go ahead. Cum f’me, baby." His fingers traveled up your body, flicking and twisting your pebbled nipples.
You clenched, rhythm stuttering, sitting fully and grinding against his base for friction. "Oh, fuck," You whined, high and nasally. "I-I’m really close- oh!” Your body stuttered when his calloused thumb pressed to your clit, circling it and sending you spiraling into pleasure.
Your brain blanked, eyes rolling back as you clamped down on him, leaning forward for support as he held you up. Eddie smirked, moving you so you were on your back, still buried inside of you.
"'M gonna finish up, alright? I'm close." Eddie whispered, pressing lazy kisses up and down your neck, breath ghosting over your collarbones leaving you shuddering. You nodded dumbly, sensitive and starry eyed still as he thrusted in you.
"You're such a pretty thing, you know that? Beautiful, baby." Eddie teased, nipping and sucking at your neck. The stubble of his beard rubbed against your skin, leaving it raw and chafed in its wake, not that you minded. He collapsed on top of you after he finished, chest slick against yours. You could feel every stuttering, ragged breath. 
Your thighs were trembling, still covered in a sticky sheen of sweat, dizzy as your body slowly settled. Melting into the mattress, the realization of it all came flooding back into your mind. Your eyes cut to Eddie sheepishly, anticipating a look that would send you into another deep wave of shame. Instead, he lit a cigarette next to you, jimmying the window open just barely, letting the smoke pass through. 
He looked over, handing it over as an offering, which you shook your head. "Good," Eddie's gruff voice said, blowing smoke in the opposite direction. "Nasty habit. Don’t start it, you’ll never be able to stop." He grinned.
You felt a blush coming on, one that never quite made it. Your own body too exhausted, heavy with sleep, the effects of the wine finally settling in your system. "Thanks for takin' me out tonight." You sighed, cheek pressed to the cool linen of the pillow. "'M glad you asked me out."
"Anytime, sweetheart." Eddie said through a cloud of smoke that fell from his lips. “Had a good time too. Let’s do it again.” That same wicked grin spread across his lips, devious and daring. Your body tingled with excitement, nose pressing into the pillow to hide your sleepy smile.
489 notes · View notes
rhaenella · 13 days
Text
LN4 | Challenge Accepted
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pairing: lando norris x non-driver!reader
genre: one shot ✿
summary: it’s been five years since the last chinese gp, so when you and lando are set up to race each other on the shanghai circuit on mclaren’s state of the art simulator, anything is possible…
word count: 5.6k
masterlist
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・
The sound of feet tapping restlessly against the floor, alternated by the squeaking of a swivel chair spinning round, echoed through the large hall at McLaren HQ. With a sigh, you refreshed your social media—again—but there were no new posts of any kind to keep you occupied. You’d already gone through all of them.
Your boyfriend and F1 driver, Lando Norris, was somewhere in the massive building, filming interviews, challenges and whatnot for the McLaren social media platforms. He had asked if you'd come with him today, mostly because you already saw so little of each other due to his busy schedule. Not that you saw much of each other right now, but at least there wasn’t an ocean between you like there usually was. 
Besides, he’d promised he would wrap up as quickly as he could, and take you out for dinner. So. The wait was worth it. Even though you were bored out of your mind for the foreseeable future.
After walking up and down the hall’s boulevard four times over, admiring all of the beautiful, historical cars on display, you had checked out the trophy wall, which was just as impressive. But since you weren’t allowed access anywhere else inside the building, at least not without a chaperone, there wasn’t much else for you to do or see. That’s how you found yourself in your current situation, spinning around in a chair like an impatient five-year-old, the line of racing cars and the lake outside whooshing by. 
“Y/N?”
The chair came to an abrupt stop. “Yea–yes?” you squinted at the blurry figure in front of you. 
Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to spin around so many times that your vestibular system now made it feel like you were on a ship battling a terrible storm. Luckily, once your vision cleared, you recognised the person instantly. It was Lando’s performance engineer, Andrew Jarvis. You’d seen him around race tracks a few times—he was always very friendly and kind to you.
“Jarv! Hi, how are you?”
“I’m good, thanks. What about yourself?”
“Oh, good, good… Enjoying the scenery,” you sneered, waving a hand.
“Right,” he drawled, looking you up and down with an amused smile. “Bored?”
“Yes,” you groaned, sinking a little deeper into the chair. “So. Fucking. Bored.”
Jarv chuckled. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m afraid Lando is still tied up. I think he and Oscar are filming some kind of… song challenge? I don’t know,” he shrugged with another laugh. “It’s not exactly my area of expertise.”
Your lips quirked up. “Imagine if it was. You could start hiding strategy calls in songs and sing them over the board radio.”
He wavered. “That would be…”
“Genius?”
“Eh, well,” he faltered, his mouth twitching all the same. 
“Right. Maybe not,” you laughed. 
Although, privately you thought it would be a hilarious idea. With a tinge of brilliance, perhaps. But the pinnacle of motorsport would probably be a little too serious to see it your way. 
“I’m obviously not an engineer, or a strategist, or a driver. So, I guess I’ll just stay here,” you sighed, patting the armrests of your new friend, the swivel chair. “And try to excel in exercising patience instead.”
Jarv nodded, his brows furrowing. “Maybe you don’t have to…” 
You eyed him with a suspicious look. “What do you mean?”
He checked his watch and glanced around before looking back to you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I have an idea. Come with me.”
Jarv had already turned on his heel before you could object, expecting you to blindly follow him to wherever it was he intended to take you. Which you did… without too much thought. Let’s just say boredom got the best of you. Choosing between sitting another god knows how many hours in that chair, or doing something—anything—the choice wasn’t hard. So, you leaped from your seat, sprinting to catch up with him. 
“Wait!” 
He slowed down, and you fell into step beside him. “What’s your idea? Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.”
You neared the large double doors at the rear of the boulevard. Jarv pressed his right thumb on a small, glass box on the wall next to them, waiting for his fingerprint to be authorised. The system scanned his print, and the light tinged green. “Welcome, Mr. Jarvis,” a female voice said as the doors automatically opened in front of you.
“Nice.”
Jarv grinned, gesturing for you to precede him into the restricted wing of McLaren HQ. The part that the general public never got to see. You gazed around in amazement. You knew it was a large building, but it was more like a maze back here, and you quickly lost all sense of direction.
“I should probably text Lando, he’s gonna wonder where I’ve disappeared to.”
“Don’t worry, Lando is heading where we’re going, too.”
You relaxed a little at that, however your curiosity didn’t subside as you trailed after Jarv throughout the many long corridors. Where the hell were you going?
The behind the scenes looked arguably even more impressive than all the trophies and race-winning cars that were being flaunted in the entrance hall. You passed countless offices, labs, and workshops where employees were working on top-secret updates for the MCL38, or perhaps even next year’s car. And although Jarv kept up a good pace, you were still able to sneak a few glimpses here and there, thanks to all the glass walls. Most of the technology looked so futuristic, you felt like you had accidentally stepped onto the set of a sci-fi film.
Jarv made a sharp right turn down another hallway. This one only had one door at the end, and it wasn’t made out of glass like the rest of them, which prevented you from being able to see what was behind it. 
You read the sign next to the door, which only added to the mystery. 
Strictly No Admittance. Authorised Personnel Only.
“This is it,” Jarv said, retrieving a key to unlock the door, opening it wide. 
Well, there was your authorisation.
You stepped into the mysterious, dimly lit room, your eyes gradually widening with awe. 
The room was roughly twelve by twelve metres, and in the centre stood two professionally altered Formula 1 cars, both with their own 180-degree widescreens set up in a semicircle around them. The back wall was lined with large computer screens, a row of chairs stationed in front of them, which gave you the feeling you were looking at a small-scale pitwall. 
Holy… beep.
Speaking of futuristic tech, this was way up there.
“Welcome to the McLaren simulation room.”
You whirled around to face Jarv, beaming. “This is incredible. I’ve never seen a sim like this before.”
It was true. Sure, Lando had his own simulator at home in Monaco. But it was nothing compared to this piece of craftsmanship.
Jarv hummed, smiling as he walked to the faux-pitwall. “So. You ready to try it out?”
You blinked. “Ready to–wait a minute… what?”
You stared at Jarv as he turned on the computers, pressing buttons here and there that made the right car hum to life. Next, the widescreen around the car powered up as well, causing a wave of light to brighten the otherwise dark room.
“Jarv?”
He opened a cabinet, retrieving a steering wheel before he walked to the simulator. “Come on, don’t tell me you don’t want to.”
“That’s not it,” you trailed off. 
“Good,” he said, turning around, looking at you expectantly. “So get in, then.”
“But… what about Lando? You said he was on his way over here. Don’t they need the room?”
“They will be here to film something in,” Jarv checked his watch again. “In a little over an hour. Until then, the room is empty, and we can use it. I presume you’ve driven a simulator before?”
“Yeah, I have… but don’t I need some kind of special clearance to use one of these?” One of these super expensive, highly accurate simulators that are solely used to train drivers and prepare the real cars and their setups for race weekends. Whatever could go wrong?
“Y/N, don’t worry about it. I’m Lando’s performance engineer. I’m one of the few that gets to decide who uses the sim.”
You shifted your weight, still unsure. “I’m not gonna be any good at it.”
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you have fun, or would you rather return to the waiting area?”
“No.”
Jarv’s smile widened, and he gestured to the sim, inviting you to take a seat.
You hesitantly walked up to the car, twisting your rings, a nervous habit of yours. You’d tried the simulator at Lando’s before, and like you’d already pointed out to Jarv, you weren’t any good at it. Lando had tried to talk you through it, telling you where to break and lift, but it was painfully clear you weren’t cut out to be a driver. 
And now you had to drive in McLaren’s state of the art simulator, under the watchful eye of Lando’s performance engineer. The pressure was real. You didn’t want to make a complete fool out of yourself.
After you’d managed to, somewhat awkwardly, settle yourself in the sim’s seat, Jarv locked the steering wheel into place. It was familiar to you as it looked exactly like the one on Lando’s car, just like everything else on this sim. Except that it didn’t have a front or back wing, or any tyres.
“Alright, before you start driving, it’s important to know the ins and outs of the track you’re racing at. Which in this case will be Shanghai, the location of next weekend’s race,” Jarv said, pressing a few buttons. 
The layout of the track popped up on the screen in front of you, with a sea of information and data appearing on the sides. 
“Don’t worry about the data. We’ll stick to the basics that are of importance to you as a driver. Ready?”
You nodded.
“Good. So, the Shanghai International Circuit has sixteen corners, two DRS-zones on the main straights; one in sector three, and the other on start-finish…”
***
“I don’t know, I feel like maybe I should pursue a musical career,” Lando joked as he and Oscar followed Marion, the head of McLaren’s PR team, down the building’s corridors. 
They had just finished filming another challenge for YouTube. Or Instagram. Or both. Lando didn’t really care about the specifics. It was just another part of his job. Something he’d rather be done with soon, so he could go back to his girl.
Oscar snorted. “Yes, I’m sure you’ll be a Grammy-nominated artist in no time.”
Lando grinned, agreeing with a nod. 
“Alright, lads. One more, and then you’re free to go,” Marion called over her shoulder. 
It was absolute music to Lando’s ears.
“What is it that we have to do?” Oscar asked.
“You’ll be racing each other on the sim, just for a couple of laps, around the Shanghai circuit.”
“I thought we were gonna train on the sim in the morning,” Lando said.
Marion nodded. “You will. This is only a short challenge for a video ahead of the Chinese Grand Prix. Because we haven’t raced there in so long, we thought it’d be fun to film your initial reaction to the track driving the MCL38.”
He and Oscar shared a look. They were always down for a race. There was no question about it.
The click-clacking of Marion’s heels bounced around the hallway as the group made their way to the simulation room. When they arrived, Will, Lando’s race engineer, and a camera and sound crew were waiting for them by the door.
“Why are you all out here? You should be setting up the cameras,” Marion scolded, looking at the men expectantly, waiting for an explanation.
But the men ignored her, instead they all looked to Lando, grinning. He frowned, not at all understanding the meaning behind the knowing looks they were sending him. What was up with them?
“Someone beat us to the sim, I’m afraid,” Will explained, his eyes still on Lando.
Marion turned to Lando as well, equally confused. “What does that mean?”
Lando met her eye and shrugged. “Hell if I know.”
As if on cue, a high pitched scream came from the simulation room, followed by a distinct, “That’s more like it!”
Will and the crew chuckled, but Marion wasn’t having it. “What on earth is going on,” she bristled, pushing past them to enter the room.
Lando followed her, but he couldn’t have been less prepared for the scene they stumbled upon next. 
Occupying one of the simulators was his girlfriend, and right next to you stood Jarv, who was closely monitoring your driving, giving you short and precise instructions. You were going down the straight at full throttle, following Jarv’s pointers as you breaked and hit the curb perfectly for a smooth exit.
What the hell? 
He’d thought you were still waiting for him in the entrance hall on the other side of the building. Never in a million years had he expected to find you here, racing on McLaren’s simulator, looking like you actually knew what you were doing no less. 
So that’s why all the guys had been smirking at him…
“What do we have here?”
You jumped at Lando’s voice, immediately causing the car to spin and crash during your momentary lapse of concentration. 
“Fuck! I was on a flying lap…”
“And a bloody good one at that,” Jarv added, proud.
Lando’s eyebrows shot up. “You were what?” His eyes flicked from you to Jarv, to you, and then back to Jarv. “Mate?”
Before Jarv could utter a word, you turned to face your boyfriend with a wide smile. “Baby, guess what?! I’m not a complete loser at this!”
“I–I’m so proud of you… but,” Lando shook his head, still not understanding any of this. “Why are you two in here?”
You grabbed onto the halo and pulled yourself out of the car to face him. “Jarv came to see how I was doing, and since I had nothing better to do, he suggested I’d give this a try,” you explained, gesturing to the sim.
“Oh, I see,” Lando smiled. 
Yet he struggled to swallow the bitter taste at seeing you spending time and having fun with Jarv. All the while he had been stuck ‘working’. Not that he blamed you for it. He was the one who left you all by yourself for so long. But still… 
“Uhm, but now that you’re all here,” you said, a bit sheepish, your eyes scanning the gathering crowd. “I’ll uhm, I’ll leave you to it.”
“Very well,” Marion called, but she was quickly interrupted.
“No, no, no, no. Wait a second. I need to know something first,” Will spoke, stepping forward. “Jarv, we need your professional assessment, man. How did she do?”
Marion sighed, tapping her phone to check the time, which only made her look more impatient. Lando ignored her, his eyes sliding from you to his performance engineer, curious as well. 
“Y/N did great. She struggled a little at first, but the more laps she did, the better she got,” Jarv beamed. He turned to face Lando. “You know, I reckon she’d even have a good chance at beating you.”
Lando studied him. “You’re joking.”
“No, I’m being serious, mate. I’d wager good money on it.”
Marion’s annoyance evaporated within an instant, her eyes lighting up. “Oh gosh, that is a perfect idea, Jarvis.”
“What is? Gambling?” 
“No,” she huffed. “I mean, instead of Lando against Oscar, we can have these two lovebirds race each other on the sim instead!”
“What?” you and Lando cried in unison.
Everyone looked at you, and your cheeks tinged a soft pink. You weren’t used to all the attention, usually preferring to keep a lower profile. Well, as much as that was possible dating a Formula 1 driver.
“Guys, I’m flattered. Truly, I am. But I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. I know you’re all here to do a job, and that job doesn’t include me…”
“That’s right,” Lando agreed. He shot you a brief smile before addressing Marion. “Besides, she doesn’t like to be the centre of attention, and I don’t want her to embarrass herself in front of the eyes of millions.”
Something stirred inside you. “What does that mean? You don’t think I can beat you?”
“Well, sweetheart…”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you mumbled, your eyes narrowing. 
Under other circumstances, you would have agreed with him. But this last hour and a half with Jarv had boosted your confidence. It had gone really well, exceeding both of your expectations on your sim racing capabilities by miles. And maybe, some part of you, just wanted to show him that.
Like Lando, you never shied away from competition. Not if you had a chance at winning. You weren’t a hundred percent sure if you did right now. But you couldn’t deny you weren’t more than a little curious to find out. And seeing as Lando had just called you out in front of everyone, the only logical thing to do was rise to the challenge.
“You know what? I’m in.”
With that, you climbed back into the snug seat, forcing the thought of having everyone’s eyes on you to the back of your mind. 
Lando’s eyes widened. “What?” 
“Wonderful,” Marion exclaimed. “Let’s roll, people.”
Lando watched as everybody around him immediately jumped into action, including the camera and sound guys who got ready to put it all on film. Jarv grinned and grabbed his tablet, giving a slight nod to Will, who nodded in return and went to start up the second simulator and retrieve a steering wheel for Lando.
“I’ll be assisting Y/N, and just like with a normal race, Will can be Lando’s engineer,” Jarv said.
“Yep,” Will said, holding up the steering wheel as he walked to the other sim. “We’re good to go.”
“We are too!” one of the crewmen announced.
Marion smiled, but it faded when she noticed Lando still standing by the door, not having moved an inch. “What are you waiting for? Get in the car,” she said.
She started pushing Lando in the direction of the other sim, but he stood his ground. 
“Hold on. We can’t do this.”
“What? Why not?”
“Yeah, why not?”
Lando sighed. “You know why.” 
Did they? Did he? 
Lando loved to race, and he certainly loved you. So what was stopping him from combining the two? 
He wasn’t scared of losing—he never has been, and never would. Not that there was any real chance that you, an inexperienced ‘driver’, could beat him today. There was simply no way. 
He’d seen you try the sim at his house, and despite his best efforts, you were, for lack of a better term, absolute rubbish. But then again, Jarv had seemed so sure of himself. That man didn’t lie or exaggerate. He would give it to you straight if you underperformed or weren’t any good. Lando had always admired and respected that. 
So, had Jarv been able to unearth some sort of racing talent that was buried deep inside of you? Something that Lando himself hadn’t managed to uncover…
Was that why he hesitated going up against you? His sense of pride?
Lando groaned internally. If anything, that should make him that much more adamant to race you.
He looked over to see you were already staring at him, ambition burning bright in your eyes. Ambition to beat him. At the thing he did best… It was alluring, and Lando felt his own competitiveness flare. 
“No, we don’t. Honestly, what’s stopping you?”
“It’s only five laps. It’ll be a piece of cake for you, Norris.”
“Unless that’s the problem,” Jarv joked. “Maybe he needs to warm up and familiarise himself with the track first…”
“I think all of you are forgetting that I’m the only one here who actually raced in Shanghai,” Lando shot back, unconsciously taking a step towards the sim.
“And how did that work out for you, mate?” Oscar chimed in.
Lando glared at him and Oscar struggled to contain his laughter. 
“Even better,” you exclaimed, reclaiming your boyfriend’s attention. “You have on track experience and I’ve had a little time to prepare with Jarv. That’s fair enough, right?”
“Y/N… are you sure you want to…” 
He was so close to giving in. He knew it, you knew it, probably everyone did. Besides, you had one more trick up your sleeve. One that would surely make his competitive side overshadow any lingering doubts, and get him to race you in that other sim.
“When have you ever walked away from a race? Hm? Unless you’re scared you’ll lose…”
That struck the intended chord. 
Oh, she didn’t, Lando thought. 
You gave him your most innocent looking smile, but he knew damn well what you were doing. He shook himself. Fine. If you wanted to race him so badly, he would give it to you. And no way in hell would he still consider going easy on you.
Lando promptly made his way to the other car and slid into the seat with practised ease. He signalled Will, who handed him the steering wheel. He clicked it into place before glancing to his right, smiling dangerously. “Alright, you’re on, darling. Challenge accepted.”
At that, Jarv entered a bunch of commands on his tablet, which was connected to the simulator’s system, to set the race parameters. Two cars appeared on the screens, each from their own driver’s point of view, already in position to start racing at Shanghai’s International Circuit.
“As you can see, Lando will start on the right and Y/N will start on the left,” Jarv informed.
“Whoa, wait a minute,” Lando sputtered. “Why are you starting from pole and not me?”
“Because I clocked the fastest lap time.”
“You clocked the only lap time.”
You shrugged, smiling. “Take it up with race control, baby.”
“Don’t worry,” Will reassured, looking at his own tablet as he scrolled through the accumulated data from your runs. “Break late, and you can easily overtake her in the first corner.”
Lando nodded, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel as the digital green flag was waved.
Jarv leaned in to whisper in your ear: “No, he won’t. Just remember what I taught you.”
“Aye, aye,” you said, focusing on the lights.
The cameras were all set and rolling, and Marion looked around, relishing the unexpected turn of events. This would be an enormous hit online, for sure. Her eyes landed on Oscar who stood to the back, watching the couple with an amused glint in his eye. If only she could involve him as well somehow… that would make it even better.
“Oscar, why don’t you take on the role of commentator?” Marion suggested, her tone indicating that he didn’t have much of a choice. 
Oscar startled. “Oh. Uhm. Yeah, sure.”
He moved to stand in between the two simulators, clearing his throat. “Right. Uhm. Welcome to the Shanghai International Circuit for the 2024 Chinese Grand Prix… It’s Sunday, April 21st—well, not really but let’s go with it—uhm, and we’ll soon start racing–”
“You’re a lousy commentator, Piastri,” Lando interrupted.
Oscar rolled his eyes. “How about you worry about yourself, Norris.”
Lando snickered, but he quickly sobered when the first light gleamed red. Then the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth, and…
“It’s lights out and away we go!”
You got away quick, but Lando was faster, years of experience siding with him.
“Lando dives into the first corner, ahead of Y/N. Can she cross back? No, no she cannot. Ah, bummer…” Oscar narrated. “She’s right behind him, though, going into turn 3. Lando nearly missing the apex there, but he recovers well. OH! Oh, never mind. Lando goes wide in turn 6! Yeah, he’s familiar with that one.”
“Shut up,” Lando snapped.
“I didn’t think so, mate,” Oscar grinned, settling into his new character nicely. 
“Y/N is back on his heels as they go down sector two. DRS is not yet enabled, but she is only six tenths behind! Will Y/N be able to overtake Norris without DRS on the straight? She’s getting closer… they’re racing each other into turn 14, and… OH Y/N, massive lock-up! She manages to keep the car on track. Excellent save! But that’s gonna cost her some valuable time.”
You crossed start-finish, eyeing the time as you entered lap two.
Oscar’s voice boomed loud. “DRS enabled! But Y/N is too far–”
“Just 1.2 seconds behind, you can still do this,” Jarv encouraged. “Line-up on the left and take the first corner on the inside. Yeah, like that. Good.”
On the other side of the room, Will was giving Lando similar instructions. It had, after all, been a while since Lando had last raced this track. During his rookie year, no less. Therefore it was currently taking him quite a bit of effort to find the correct race line, especially with the many difficult corners and hairpins around the track. 
“Steady on,” Will said. “Y/N is out of DRS. Let’s keep it that way.”
The couple sped down the track on their simulators, and even though most of your focus was spent on driving and listening to Jarv’s notes, you also marvelled at the accuracy and realism of the sim. From the sensations of the literal car you were seated in, down to the gravel Lando’s little off-track adventure had caused to spread in and around turn 6. Whatever the outcome of the race, this experience would certainly beat waiting around and lounging in that swivel chair.
“Great exit from Norris who is absolutely flying down the straight in sector three, followed by Y/N at 1.4 seconds. Still doing a phenomenal job so far!” Oscar continued, his eyes glued to the screen. “Approaching turn 14, can Y/N manage the hairpin this time? What?! Oh, no! It’s Lando that locks up this time… Oiiioii, mighty turn 14 proves to be too much for both of our star drivers.”
Jarv kept a close eye on the interval time, and thanks to Lando’s mistake, the gap had already shrunk to 1.1 seconds. “Okay, now use the extra power from the ERS to get closer,” he instructed.
You did as you were told, pressing the correct button on the steering wheel, which gave you an extra boost to get even closer to Lando.
“Y/N gaining on Norris! And she’s now back within DRS at 0.9 seconds. Whoa, what a truly remarkable performance by someone who has never driven a race car or a sim like this before! I’d vote for her as driver of the day…”
“No one asked your opinion,” Lando cut off, sounding a little strained.
“Whatever,” Oscar shrugged, unbothered. “Lando Grumpy-Ass Norris struggles to maintain the gap between him and his girlfriend, hitting the curb a little enthusiastically right there. Oh, Y/N faces the same issues! It’s all about keeping the focus now, ladies and gents. Will Y/N be able to close the gap? Will she be able to attack Norris?”
Marion stood behind the cameras, watching gleefully how you and Lando raced each other around the virtual Shanghai circuit. Oh, you were even better than she could have ever anticipated. Better than anyone in the room could have ever anticipated, really. The whole crew was watching the race with baited breath. 
You were almost equally matched. With you, a real diamond in the rough, having received some training beforehand, and Lando, an experienced driver, essentially going in blind—it was a golden match.
Were you going to be able to do the unthinkable?
“We’re going into the penultimate lap, and even with Lando strategically using his batteries, Y/N has managed to close the gap to 0.7 with DRS. And there she is also clocking the fastest lap. Wow!”
“You can win a little bit of extra time in sector two,” Will analysed. “Turns 9 and 12 are crucial. You need a good exit.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Lando said. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Does he?” Oscar cut in. “We’ve got track limits for Norris in turn 9! He’s getting desperate now, with Y/N coming for him at 0.6 seconds. Is she going to—yes! She’s attempting to overtake Norris ahead of turn 11 but… fails… Oh, that was a bold move by Y/N! She lost a bit of time with that one, but she’s still within DRS range and knows she will be able to get close again for another attack.”
Your knuckles were turning white from how tight you were gripping the steering wheel. You couldn’t make a mistake, not now. You were so close… On the other sim, Lando was in a similar state. Although he was clenching his jaw in concentration instead. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep you behind him.
“Final lap,” Oscar announced. “And Norris crosses the white lines again! Turn 3 this time. Yep, there it is. Second track limits for Norris. He is feeling the heat, and not the good kind.”
Jarv’s mouth twitched. “It’s been five years since Lando raced here, let’s use it to our advantage,” he spoke to you in a hushed tone.
You nodded, your eyes never wavering from the screen in front of you.
Jarv checked the data, both yours and Lando’s, then leaned in. “Okay, here’s what you’ll do: instead of following the race line at–”
Will was closely observing you and Jarv from the other side of the room, but he couldn’t make out what Jarv was saying over the sounds of the simulators’ engines and Oscar still commentating to his heart’s content. He looked down at his driver, who was fully focused on the task before him.
“And then use the charged batteries after exiting turn 13. I know Lando’s defending tactics, this should work. He won’t see it coming,” Jarv finished. 
You simply nodded again, trusting your engineer’s judgement. You would give it your all to try and execute his strategy as best you could.
“As we’re nearing the chequered flag, all bets are off. Lando is fighting for his position with everything he has, but Y/N is not ready to call it quits just yet!” 
Your heart rate was off the charts, but you managed to stay calm, hitting the apexes, the metres between you and Lando’s car in front dwindling with each passing second.
“0.5 seconds, 0.4 seconds…”
“Flat out, Y/N. Let’s go,” Jarv said, his own heart rate ticking up.
“She’s chasing him, with DRS… There she comes. There she comes… round the inside! Y/N overtakes Norris!” Oscar roared. “Diving into the infamous turn 14… and… and she makes it! Hell yeah! What a mega move from Y/N! Now into the final corner. Can she stay ahead of Norris? Can she…? Yes!! Yes, she can!”
You passed the chequered flag, your mouth falling open in shock.
“Y/N wins the Chinese Grand Prix!”
“OH MY GOD!!”
Jarv's laugh pierced the room. “Get in! I told you!”
He managed to stop himself just in time before he started jumping up and down like an overly excited little boy. You shared his enthusiasm though, unable to control the slight tremor in your hands at seeing your name next to the word WINNER displayed boldly on the screen in front of you. 
Holy fuck, you did it. You actually did it.
Lando sank low in his seat. “How the hell…”
Will patted him on the shoulder, consoling. “You did your best mate.”
“Clearly it wasn’t enough,” he grumbled.
Will glanced at their celebrating opponents, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Get your mind out of the gutter, mate, and look on the bright side.”
“Which is?”
“Your girlfriend just showed you the perfect overtake manoeuvre for Sunday.”
“Ha-ha, very funny…”
Although, you really did. 
Lando turned to see Jarv help you out of the simulator, still grinning from ear to ear. You were reeling, the adrenaline of the fight and win coursing through your veins. Suddenly you understood what it must feel like to come out of a real F1 car, and to stand on the podium, basking in that feeling of winning a race.
As soon as you were out, Jarv high-fived you. “Solid race. That’s some potential, that is.”
Oscar came up next. “Awesome job, Y/N. Seriously. Great overtake at the end there. Perhaps you’ll be my future teammate,” he winked.
You giggled. “Thanks, guys!”
Even Will smiled at you, giving you a thumbs up as you walked over to Lando who was still seated in the other sim, sulking.
“Oh, come on,” you pouted, reaching out your hand, a peace offering. “That was fun, wasn’t it?”
“Sure thing, it was,” he muttered, but he accepted your hand anyway before jumping out of the car. 
When he stood in front of you, he took a moment to look you up and down, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. His ego may have taken quite the blow today, but there was no denying he was also extremely proud of you. Jarv had been right after all, and Lando was happy he hadn’t taken the engineer up on his bet.
He shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises?”
You shrugged, smiling. “Need to keep things fresh and exciting, don’t I? Otherwise you’ll tire of me in no time.”
“Never,” Lando scoffed, wrapping his arm around your waist and giving your lips a soft peck. “However, as much as I’m proud of you… this footage will never see the light of day.” 
You laughed, your eyes locking with Marion.
She sent you a wink. “We’ll see about that.”
***
a/n: thank you for reading <3 feedback is adored. 
by the way, should i make a taglist for future f1 fics? is that something you’d be interested in? or perhaps for specific drivers? let me know!
also posted on ao3
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wh1msic4alwasab1 · 2 months
Text
𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ཐི❤︎ཋྀ
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art cred: maichiatto62 (x)
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☦︎synopsis: you get chased by a dark and undetermined figure in the woods, and run toward a dreadful castle that houses a seemingly kind man, will you stay awhile?
☦︎genre: smut w/plot
☦︎tags: vampiric hypnotism, mentions of blood, biting, corruption, dialogue heavy, degradation “whore” , loss of virginity, cunnalingus, creampie, mirror
☦︎wrd cnt: 2.2k
☦︎a/n: vampires and gothic literature is my favorite so this was a dream to write and I hope anyone reading enjoys!
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Twigs and thistle snap under your feet as you walk through the fruit berring bushes, feeling the low laying leaves scratch your ankles.
You lost track of time and try to find your group, you probably should have skipped this hiking trip. Or at least wore shorts that covered your knees. The night drew upon your haggard form quite quickly, and the temperature dropped significantly.
You tried your best to find the light of the campfire you knew was there before you left.
After a few minutes of silent walking, besides your rummaging footsteps, you hear a loud thud somewhere behind you.
Your back straightened up like a rod, “Hello?” Your voice echos slightly, bouncing off the trees and up toward the stars. You prayed like hell it was one of your friends, coming to your salvation.
When nobody answered you after your third call out, you kept walking.
You heard another loud noise, as if a bolder dropped straight into a big pile of leaves, trembling the ground you stood on.
Frozen in fear, like a deer, you stand in the middle of a plot of dirt surrounded by the thick trees and shrub.
Your eyes open wide and your hands balled up in fists, you survey the area until you find the source of the sound.
A tree, wounded with a big chunk missing from the side.
It still stood tall, but reckoned to snap if it had been torn just a few more inches towards the unbent side.
You wondered who could have caused such destruction, or rather what.
You would find out soon enough, when you examine the tree to find streaks of blood scattered over earthen hide.
Following the trail you discovered the remains of some animal.
Well that’s what you think it was, it had been mangled and torn in such a brutal manner there was no way to identify exactly what it could have been.
As you tried your best to figure it out, a black shadow stalked you from afar.
Red orbs visible with stillness behind a tree, slowly growing larger in your view as it approached. The dimness of the atmosphere cloaked it well.
You stepped back, shoes muddied and heavy as you ran. You ran until you saw the nearest source of light, not bothered to look behind you to whatever was chasing.
Your labored breath became cold and dryed out your throat.
You ran and ran until you found a rather tall and lucrative looking building, somewhat of a mansion or moreso fitting of a castle.
Where the hell did that come from? You’ve never seen anything like it before in all the times you’d hiked in these woods.
You didn’t have much time to question it, but ran right to the door.
It was slightly crept open, so you figured it must have been some kind of open house or exhibit.
You rushed in, shutting the grand door.
As you caught your breath, you almost screamed when you heard a man’s voice right behind you. Who you somehow didn’t see when first stepping in, as if he’d appeared from thin air.
“Good evening.” The man said, burning candle in his hand.
You turned before he could even finish his greeting, a look of utter terror in your eyes.
“Are you well dear? You’re bleeding”
You didn’t even notice, but your knees had been scrapped and dripping blood halfway down your shins.
His eyes lit a shade of red barely able to be detected, or maybe it was just the reflection of the flame? You were quite scared and paranoid after all.
“Oh- I’m so sorry, The door was open and I didn’t know anyone was here- Someone was chasing me.”
“Oh my, are you alright? Come, let me offer you safety tonight.” He beckoned you to follow him, the rays of the small flame from the wax stick guiding you as he most graciously offered you a safe heaven in his home.
You looked around at the torchlit walls, it felt dark and cold throughout the entire place.
He walked you up 2 flight of stairs, his pace was quite constant throughout, almost like he was floating on each step.
You soon arrived into a hallway full of paintings adorning the walls, hand painted it seemed. So beautiful you had to point it out.
“You have a lovely home- is this artwork all yours?” You ask.
“Yes. I have quite a bit of spare time on my hands, so I much enjoy art.” He answered. The man’s voice was deep and mellow.
You walked down the red carpet hallway to the room all the way to the end, it seemed to be one of the many dozens.
There was a large canopy bed lined with dark lace and wooden upholstery.
“Please, spend the night here until morning. I wouldn’t want you to endanger yourself.”
Before you could even agree to his much eager assistance, he walked over to a box near the fireplace side table and pulled out several glass vials and bandages.
You walked toward him, and sat down per his instruction.
“Thank you- You’ve been so kind to me. Why?”
He chuckled, kneeling down to your level and applying an ointment to the cloth.
“Why? How ever could I turn away such a frightening young lady at my door. There are dangerous things in those woods.”
His tone sounded very concerned, but horrifyingly casual.
“What is your name Sir? If it’s okay to ask.”
“It’s perfectly okay. You can call me Blade.”
“Blade…Nice to meet you” What a strange name.
“Likewise. Now please, allow me.”
You nod, before he dabs a stinging oil to your knee. One by one.
He handles you well, gently.
His cold hands held your calves as he bandaged up your wounds.
He gets up from his knelt position, seeming even taller than he is when he stands from this view.
His long black hair was so dark it seemed blue, ends dipped in a color that resembled the shade of holly berries.
He sat down on the chair opposite of you, his face framed by the fireplaces glow behind him now.
“So tell me dear, what exactly happened?” His voice dripping in concern.
“I…really don’t know. I got lost hiking with my group and I tried to find them, but then I kept hearing weird noise in the forest and I thought it could be them looking for me. But-“
You stopped, reliving the sequence you just ran from.
He waited patiently for you to continue, his sculpture like face and rich eyes giving you their utmost attention.
“I saw blood, and a dead animal, I think a wolf or something could have done it. But there was a man- in the woods. It kept staring at me and getting close. So I ran for a while until I found your- castle?” You chuckle a little, the term house seemed beneath such a grand sanctuary.
“Maybe a werewolf?” The man said, giving you an amused chuckle. He waves his hand, “But anyways…That all sounds very frightening, I’m glad you found me.”
You nod, “As am I” you assure.
Whatever it was you are safe now y/n, very safe.” He took your hands into his own, giving them a positive squeeze with smiling eyes.
You nodded, but soon a hitch in your throat appeared and you felt like your stomach got kicked.
“I never told you my name.”
A smile appeared on his face, “Smart girl.”
His eyes glowed the same shade of sanguine you saw in the forest, chasing you. You could see two sharp teeth sticking past his upper lip, his smirk revealing to you his true identity.
You quickly get up, startled enough to drop the chair behind you and fall back onto the bed.
“Who are you-“ You scream, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as he stood slowly and walked toward you.
“I already told you that, didn’t I?.”
He cupped your face, making you look straight up at him.
“Please- don’t hurt me.” You plead, tears now falling from your eyes and staining your cheeks.
“Hurt you? I just tended to your wounds, why do you think I’ll harm you dear?” His voice sounds even lower at this point, and his eyes fiery.
You kick back your leg and retreat further back into the bed, almost yelling, “You’re a vampire-!”
“And your blood smells so deliciously decadent…I almost couldn’t resist tasting you a moment ago.” He crawls toward your frame, his large hands making deep prints into the mattress.
His eyes seemed to glow in a pattern, the color deepening snd glowing slowly as he got toward you.
Your body felt weak, as if magnetic to him. Almost willing to amuse him.
“What are- what are you doing to me-“
“I haven’t done a thing. I’m just increasing the magnitude of your emotions dear. Whatever you feel at this moment is your utmost desire spilling out every orafice in your body.”
You felt your mind whirl, your body get hotter with every inch he grew closer to you.
He soon wrapped his palms behind your back, seating you in his lap.
You felt an animalistic urge settle upon you, breathing even heavier than when you ran away from him earlier.
He grazed his hand up and down your legs, taking off your shoes and socks, rubbing the sore soles of your feet.
“You must get more comfortable my dear, you seem less tense, good.” He says, slowly pressing his lips to yours as you hold his shoulder.
His tongue found yours, warm in contrast to the rest of him; tangling itself in a waltz.
He nipped at your bottom lip and pricked it, tugging at it and licking the blood that drew from it with his tongue. “Virgin blood…You are truly magnificent.”
You felt your face heat up more than your body, his presence making you feel an insatiable hunger for lust.
“Blade- please…I feel-“
“Concupiscent? I can tell, y/n”, he said, his hand trailing up to your thigh and rubbing your heat through your shorts.
You roll your hips at his touch, a small mewl escaping you.
He picks you up and plops you down further back on the bed, your head hitting the pillow softly as his large frame hovers above your body.
“I can be very thorough in relieving your…lustful desires.”
“Please- yes…” You softly gasp, feeling his lips close to your neck before they kiss you.
Hungrily he rips your top apart, as if it were made of paper.
You quiver at his touch, fear set aside and now unrelentingly yearning for all of him.
“You need not worry…I will take, good, good care of you.”
You nod, watching him soon trail his lips down to your exposed chest.
He circles the tip of his tongue around your nipple, taking it entirely in his mouth to hear you moan out; the other in his hand, his hips grinding to meet your heat as he grinds into you through the fabrics keeping you apart.
“You are a marveling beauty.” He adds, his hands finding the hem of your shorts and pulling them right down, along with your panties.
He pulled back, holding your legs apart and examining every part of you, taking in the view of his next meal.
He watched you shyly try to look away, smirking when he saw how utterly messy your cunt was, glistening and dripping juices down to the sheets.
He didn’t waste much time after that, kissing your inner thigh before planting one on your clit.
He made the most deep, sinful noises as he lapped at your cunt, his eyes not breaking contact with yours as he inserts two long and slender fingers inside you.
He seemed to almost gain more pleasure from sucking on your clit than you did, almost.
You reacted like a beast in heat, legs trembling and hands gripping the sheets as your thighs pressed the sides of his face to pull him deeper into you.
You came faster than ever before. Blade sucked every drop out of you, wiping the corner of his mouth before grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.
He kissed you once more, not biting this time. Yet.
Without giving you time to recoup- he shed his clothing and slapped his cock on your folds, slipping it inbetween them to get it ready for you.
“I need to taste you dear…truly taste you.”
“M-my blood?” You ask, feeling even weaker and more lustful.
“Yes” he whispers close to your lips, “You will let me drink from you, won’t you, my little temptress?”
You nod- pulling him close to you as if you’d wither without him.
“You are such an eager woman. I quite like that.” He says, before pushing his entire length deep, deep inside you. You groan, eyebrows furrowed harshly as you experience such a reveling sensation.
“Fuck-“ He breathes, “You’re so tight…do you ache for me so deep? You’re sucking me in so much…such a naughty whore you are.”
He moved in and out slowly, making you feel every vein and along his shaft.
You could feel his breathe on your chest, and soon his teeth.
He sinked them into the top of your breast, sucking the blood out of you ferociously as he rutted inside you faster now, making you cry out as tears rolled down your face in pleasure.
“Ah- Blade!…”
“It will only hurt for a moment…I’ll fuck you so deeply you won’t dare to forget it.” He spouts, his mouth dripping with your blood before going back in to take more.
You quickly notice a mirror behind Blade, you haven’t noticed it before but he wasn’t in it of course. All your blurry vision could attest was your spread apart pussy, gaping with a thick hole as you watched yourself be torn apart in the most delicious way, blood dripping down to your nipple, soon to be licked up from Blade tongue, as your body moved with the rhythm of the bed; snapping out of your trance once you heard his suckling.
He whimpered and moaned as he drank, gripping your ass harder as he thrusted into you at a pace you could nearly pass out from.
So much of your cum created a ring around his cock, squelching noises filled the room and muffled the crackling of the wood in the fire.
His grasp on the fat of your ass deepened, possessiveness overwhelming him.
“You’re mine now. You don’t belong in those treacherous woods, you will stay right here.” He commanded, imaging all the ways he’d ruin your perfect pussy, wrapped around him so well he was convinced you were destined to take him, to be his and his only to fuck, eat, and fill.
In response to his hold, you clenched your walls around him tighter until you felt warm fluid rush into your womb, nodding to his wishes profusely as you release together in the romantically gothic room, your breath huffing as you came down from an intense high.
Blade on the other hand, well the stamina of a vampire is quite impressive.
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whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.
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