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#well now I am at least sure he’s older than me
worldofkuro · 2 days
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Painted Smile
Painted Smile III
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Pairing: Alastor x Female!Reader
Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: Well, well, this chapter is pure fluff. I really liked how it ended up. Please, enjoy it.
“ Can I come in yet?” you asked, outside Alastor’s bedroom, waiting for him to open the door.
You’ve been waiting for five minutes and you weren’t known for being a patient person. You were having a sleepover at Marie’s house after weeks of begging, from you at least. When your mothers said yes, you couldn’t be more ecstatic and even Alastor seemed happier than usual. He did ask you to come with a pretty dress because he had a new game he wanted to play with you. It was unusual but exciting ! 
So here you were, waiting in your pretty dress, your hair perfectly done, and a frown on your face. How long were you going to wait for him? You were ready to knock once again on his door but it jerked open before you could touch it. And there was your friend, his hair slicked back, his glasses on and his usual smile on his lips. You kissed him on both cheeks before he tugged you inside his bedroom.
“ Welcome to my humble Radiobooth !” He said with glee as he showed you his desk with paper spread on it, and.. was it a microphone ? You tilted your head as he forced you to sit down on one side of the bureau. He took the microphone, and spoke.
“ Welcome New Orleans to Alastor’s podcast ! Thank you for tuning in, today I’m thrilled to announce that I will not be alone, I am blessed with the best singer in all Lousianna !” he claimed and shoved the microphone to your face. You looked at his beaming smile and understood what he wanted from you. You smiled as you spoke into the microphone.
“ Thank you Alastor, I’m very pleased and proud to be here, with the best radio host in the world!” you declared, trying to sound ladylike. You grinned at him as you saw his smile sketch at your words.  He gave you some paper with doodles and notes that you began to read the fattest you could as he kept talking.
“ Would you like to talk about something, Miss ?” asked Alastor as he watched you read the notes he gave you. You nodded as you spoke into the microphone, Alastor holding it for you.
“ Well, yes. Last week, at school, a girl mocked my voice, saying I sounded like a dying pig!” You ignored Alastor’s sniggeer as you kept playing your role, reading the topic you were suppose to talk about. 
“ How dreadful ! How could she say something like this?”
“ Right ?” , you decided to go off script, putting the notes down “ but you should have heard her screams when I pushed her into a puddle of mud. Now, who is the pig?” you hid your smile behind your hand like a proper lady as Alastor’s laughter roared in his bedroom, his head tilted back. You giggled as he calmed himself down, holding the microphone to his lips.
“ Oh dear, you sure know how to put up a fight!” He looked down at his notes still giggling.” I did have something similar happening to me: a boy , talking badly about my mother.”
“ What?! How dare he ? I hope you put him in his place !” you shouted, feeling anger circling inside your body. Wait, was it for real or was it part of the show?
“ Indeedy I did, dear. I punched the poor fool, but it seemed like I hit too hard and he went crying somewhere and I was unfairly punished. This is why, my dear, our sleepover was delayed to this day!” he smiled as your mouth was wide open. You applauded him as he beamed with pride.
“ You did well, Mister Alastor!”
You kept doing your broadcast with Alastor, going off script when you wanted to talk about something that happened and he wasn’t there with you. Sometimes you would just shut your mouth and listen to him telling stories, real or not. You could listen to him all afternoon but he always insisted that you participate in the debate or the stories he created. He sometimes teased you as you didn’t know what to say or you couldn’t understand what he meant but you were really having a great time.
“ Oh, so she fell in love? What did you say then?”
“ That she better get up. Now dear listener, we are ready to hear your question !” he said before turning his head toward his door as Marie came inside with food and drinks. “ Oh well, here is the best cook in all of New Orleans, please come Moth- Madame! A round of applause for our new guest!” he said as he stood up, gesturing to his mother to come closer.
Marie laughed as she sat next to you, putting the tray on the desk, minding the notes all over it. You applauded with a big smile as Marie bowed her head. 
“ It’s a pleasure to be here!”
~~~
It truly seemed like Marie was having the time of her life as she was holding her belly, laughing loudly.
“ No Mister Alastor! Sweets are the best food you could ever eat if you weren’t so picky with what  you ate!” you shouted, slamming your fist on the table.
“ Are you saying that my mother’s food is not the best, you brat?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed but still with his cunning smiling face.
“ I’ve never said that! Don’t put words in my mouth !”
“ That’s what I get for inviting a singer.”
“ Hey !”
Marie applauded before wiping her tears from her eyes. She kissed you both on the forehead before saying she had things to do but she hoped she would be invited once more for another broadcast.
You watched as she left the bedroom before turning your attention to Alastor who was writing notes on papers. You tilted your head before clapping your hands together as you remembered what you wanted to say to Alastor before he made you wait in front of his door.
“ I found a name for our cat!”
“ Our cat?”
“ The one who always hisses at you, yes. Let’s call him… Hissker!”
“ … Well, ladies and gentlemen, we will be back, for now, please enjoy this music I choose for you!” He turned on his radio so you could be lulled by the music. He laid his microphone on the table and sighed as he raised an eyebrow to you. “ Hissker ? I guess it’s because he is always hissing toward me but.. It doesn’t really sound right.”
“ Well.. Hiss.. Hiss…” you tried to find a good name that would satisfy Alastor. “ What about Husker ?” you asked and smiled when you saw Alastor nod. “ It was a very funny game, I hope we will play it again!”
Alastar grinned as he shook his head. “ It is not over yet, we haven't gone through all the notes yet. And you need to sing at the end of the broadcast, aren’t you the best singer in Louisiana ?” he taunted you with a smirk. “ Plus, we have the listener’s question to answer!” He stood up and went to take letters and put them in front of you. You took one and opened it.
“ What is your favorite color ?” you read before tilting your head, looking at Alastor. “ You want to know my favorite color?” He shook his head, claiming that it was the audience’s question, not his ! You smiled, feeling warm inside, it was not everyday that Alastor was curious about you like this, but you didn’t dare to tease him about it. 
“ Welcome back dear listeners ! Our singer here is ready to answer all of your questions !” he took the letters and began to read its content to you. You answer all the questions with sincerity and joy. “ If you could have a superpower, what would it be?”
“ Flying !” you giggled.
“ And now, our last question before our guest’s performance. What do you think about our dear radio host Alastor ?” he stared at you, the letter hiding the bottom of his face you could only see his eyes. You took the microphone from his hand, he surprisingly let you, and with a big smile you shouted.
“ He is the best !”
Your smile widened as Alastar laughed at your answer, clapping into his hands. You felt warm seeing him so happy. You gave him back his microphone but he shook his head and tugged you toward the living room, where a beautiful piano was waiting for you. You looked at Alastor, you didn’t know how to play the piano and he knew that so why…
“ Dear listeners, it’s almost time to say au revoir but before that let’s listen to our beautiful singer here.” he sat on the bench before the piano and began to play a melody. You blushed as you held on the microphone, feeling shy. You looked at Alastor who was watching you, with a big grin before closing his eyes. You took a big breath as you recognized the melody that he played. It was one of your favorite songs… 
You began to sing shyly, waiting for Alastor to laugh at you but he was keeping his eyes closed, moving with the rhythm of the piano’s keys. You closed your eyes as you held the microphone near your mouth, beginning to feel freer and freer. You smiled as you began to dance in the living room, your dress twirling around you. You jumped, moving your head with the rhythm singing like nobody was watching. You were having so much fun, you felt exthrilled, you didn’t care if you were being too loud, if you didn't hit all the right notes.  You opened your eyes and fell into Alastor’s gaze. 
He was staring at you with a big smile, still playing the piano perfectly with a little bit of sweat near his forehead. His hair was no longer neatly slicked back, some curly locks of hair were falling in front of his face. You thought you would feel embarrassed that he was watching you being a dumb happy girl but you just smiled at him, dancing and singing. After a while, even Marie came and you danced with her, as you sang and Alastor kept playing.
It was perfect.
You finished your song, out of breath. Marie applauded you with a big grin as Alastor put his arms around your shoulder and crushed you against his chest. He took back his microphone, thanking his audience as you were looking at him. You remember him being a tad smaller than you, but now… Did he get taller? He forced you to bow before saying goodbye. 
“ It was an amazing performance ! Both of you, you can be proud of you. As a thank you, I have prepared Alastor’s favorite food: jambalaya ! “ She clapped her hands together. You tilted your head, you’ve never eaten this food but from Alastor’s face, you couldn’t wait to taste it.
~~~ 
“ You can sleep with me sweetie, my husband will not come home tonight.” said Marie as you shook your head, holding your plushie against your chest in your nightgown.
“ We are still playing with Alastor! When we are finished, I will join you.” you said with a shy smile. Alastor was behind you, waiting for his mother's permission to stay a little longer awake than usual.  She sighed but at your pleading eyes she accepted your request. You squealed with happiness before running into Alastor's bedroom and jumping on his bed. He came after you, looking at your plushie with a puzzled expression.
“ What is it ?”
“ Well, first of all, it’s a He and he is a deer.” you smiled as you explained that when you were five, you fell down a lake and because you have never learned how to swim, you were drowning but a deer came toward you and bent down his head so you could grab his antlers ! “ My parents said that it was a tree branch that fell down the lake but I’m sure it was a deer !” you pouted, sad that you parents never trust your story. Even if you couldn’t really remember well this story, you knew what you had seen. 
“ So, a deer saved your life from drowning…”
“ Yes, so my parents bought me this deer plushie so now, when I'm scared I can just squeeze him and feel safe!” you demonstrated your words by squeezing your plushie against you. “ Do you want to try it?” 
Alastor stared at you and then the plushie.
“ How can he protect you?”
You rolled your eyes at him before pushing your plushie in his arms. You forced him to hug it, once you were satisfied, you nodded and looked at Alastor who was clearly confused. “ Now, squeeze him !” You looked at him as he squeezed it, closing his eyes. 
You stared at Alastor. You remembered the bruises on his belly that you saw last month. You knew that fathers could be brutal with their son, to man them up as your friends used to say. Maybe Alastor was the same? You loved your plushie, you really did… But maybe, Alastor needed it more than you? You looked at the boy's expression, his eyes closed, his smile hiding in the plushie’s fur, he seemed so relaxed. You nodded, accepting your own decision, until Alastor was safe, you were going to give him your plushie.
“ Mister Deer could be our very first guest in our radio show?” you smiled at him, Alastor opening his eyes slowly, staring back at you. You gulped, maybe it was his show, you were just a guest. You opened your mouth to apologize but Alastor beat you to it.
“ I’d like that.” he whispered with a soft smile. “ Our first guest.”
Without being aware, you both laid down on the bed, Alastor still hugging your plushie. You kept talking even as the sun wasn’t in the sky anymore. You yawned for the third time in the last thirty seconds as you explained how to take care of Mister Deer.
“ Now that I have Mister Deer, who will protect you?” he asked, no trace of fatigue on his face. You smiled tiredly at him, putting your head on his pillow. It smelled like him. You didn’t know why you liked that fact.
“ Well, because you hold Mister Deer, it’s your job to protect me now.” 
“ … So, do I need to hug you?”
You stared at him, his eyes shining with the moon light. A hug from Alastor ? You looked away, blushing but you didn’t know why.
“ M-maybe but…Do you want to …?”
You felt him move and you flinched as he covered your eyes with his hand. You waited for him to answer but you were so tired and now that you were englushed into the darkness with his hand on your eyes you couldn’t help but fall asleep before your could hear his answer. 
~~~ 
Marie walked up the stairs, it was 11pm and it was time for the kids to go to bed. She opened the door to Alastor’s bedroom and couldn’t help but smile at the sweet scene in front of her. Alastor was hugging you with a deer plushie being squished between the two of you. She walked toward the bed and covered the both of you. Well, she couldn’t wait to tell that to your mother! She left the bedroom, closed the door quietly and went to bed.
Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega
Ps: By the way, my deers, do you have an idea for the plushie's name ? I'm open to ideas.
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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
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OK ANOTHER IDEA
OK SO WE KNOW THAT ALASTOR IS A MAMAS BOY AND HAS AN AMAZING RELATIONSHIP WITH HER
SO WHAT IF ALASTOR HAD A FEM S/O BUT SHE HAS A TERRIBLE RELATIONSHIP WITH HER MOM, ITS JUST SO EMOTIONALLY TOXIC (especially with reader being an older sibling)
reader never tells him though because alastors relationship with his mom is good and she doesn’t wanna make him feel bad whenever he talks about her and one day readers mom comes to the hotel and reader DREADS it and becomes snappy but readers mom wins everyone over (of course alastor too). So when reader explains that she doesn’t want her mom around alastor can’t understand why and reader feels betrayed its only later when readers mom shows her true colors towards reader. And reader of course bites back (or at least tries too)
So basically angst to fluff and SORRY IF THATS SO MUCH😭😭
👀 Mommy issues??? 👀
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Emotionally Abusive mother, Reader suffering, Reader gets grabbed a few times, Ambiguous ending for mama
Description: ☝️⬆️
When it comes to mothers, it's safe to say you and Alastor had very different experiences
His mother was full of warmth and kindness towards him, doing her best to build him up into a great man
She loved him greatly and it shows whenever he talks about her
But your mother?? Your mother saw you as fucking competition and always found ways to put you down, to make herself better than you
Well maybe she should be the one who was cooking the meals, getting your younger siblings off to school on time or making sure everyone had clean clothes
Just the thought of her made your stomach flip and your legs shake
She would put you down all your life while claiming it was so that you could be a great woman just like her, but not too great, you have to remember who the better woman is
Well now you're both in hell so-
You put as much distance between her and yourself as you could, living your afterlife without her influence
You even got yourself a handsome powerful overlord boyfriend and new friends to share your life with
Even though you're supposed to be in hell, you couldn't be happier
At least you were until your mother showed up at the hotel, her face full of faux worry and tears
"Oh my precious girl! This is where you've been hiding? I was so worried!!"
Before Charlie can even shut the door, your mother has already shoved her way inside and literally dug her claws into you, hugging you
It's all you can do not to throw up, smothered by her familiar scent and grip, hearing her voice again after all this time
"Now let Mommy take a look at you-oh!!! And here I was worried that you were starving! Good to know you've put some weight on those bones!"
And it's already starting-
And now she's crying and rocking you in her arms, cooing about how much she's missed you and how she's never letting you go again
Charlie and the others are just staring at the two of you, completely enraptured by your mother, like everyone always is
She loved being the center of attention
When you finally come to your senses you push her away and create some distance, disturbed by the worried looks everyone is giving her
"Mom, why are you here?"
Oh don't everyone look at you like you're the bad guy!! She's the one who's only here because she wants something!!
"Maybe I wouldn't have to come track you down if you would just visit your poor mother every once in a while...she never even calls me, you know!"
And now she's crying again, Charlie immediately going to comfort her while Vaggie gives you a dirty look
Fucking mommy issues much? Don't fall for this crap
"I don't want to visit you, so just leave-"
"Well now, who is this~?"
Alastor! Yes! He can make her leave! You turn to give your boyfriend a pleading look but your mother catches his attention first
"Oh don't worry about who I am.. just a poor lonely mother who came to see her daughter...but I guess I'll show myself out.."
Alastor doesn't have to guess who she's talking about, even in death you always looked like your mother
His smile gets surprisingly warm and soft, taking your mother's hand in his own in a disgusting display of affection that used to only be for you
"You're Y/N's mother? My my, I should've guessed! You must have so many stories of her from her life! I simply must insist that you say."
ALASTOR NO
You feel sick but nobody notices, your mother already soaking up their attention and winning their hearts
So you turn and leave the hotel, unable to stand being in her presence any longer, you don't miss the smug look she gives you on your way out
You spend all day trying to avoid going back to the hotel until you're sure your mother is gone
You're more than disappointed to find her drinking tea with Alastor, the two of them laughing, her placing her hand on top of his
She always used to try and go after your boyfriends and that hasn't changed either
She hasn't changed
"Oh darling~! We hadn't realized you left! Alastor and I were simply having a moment~"
Alastor lights up when he sees you, only to be visibly confused by your troubled expression
"Y/N! Your mother was just telling me about her life before you! She was quite a wildcard back then!"
Your mother is practically drooling over him, rubbing his hand and winking
"I'm still wild if you ever care to find out!"
You've had it
You tug your mother's hand off of Alastor, forcing her to stand up and look you in the eyes
"You need to leave! Right now!"
And here come the waterworks again
"Y/N..! Darling, what did I do wrong? I'm your mother please don't throw me out like this!"
You just start pushing her towards the door and you slam it shut behind her, sighing in relief
That is until you look at Alastor's face, his smile seeming strained
"Y/N! You can't just throw her out like that, not only is that bad manners but that's no way to treat the woman who raised you!"
Raised you? You raised yourself!!
"Alastor, you don't know what you're talking about so please just stay out of it. You don't know what she's like-"
You're trying to stay calm-
"She's your mother, it's not like she's some evil creature-"
"SHE'S IN HELL OF COURSE SHE'S EVIL-"
"So are you and I, my dear."
You try to put your foot down, tell him that you don't want her here but he's already opening the door for her and letting her back in
She looks so pleased with herself
He invites her to stay the night because of course he does, he would do it for his own mother so why not yours
You try not to give her the satisfaction of seeing you cry but your eyes are already hot and watery
"I-I'm going to bed..!"
Alastor calls for you, trying to resolve things then and there but the only response he gets is your door slamming shut
He goes to go after you but your mother stops him with a gentle hand to the shoulder
"Now now...let her cool off for a bit then I'll go make sure she's alright, a mother always knows how to cheer up her child~"
It feels like you spend hours crying in your bed, feeling so hurt that Alastor took her side over yours
Your mom isn't like his, she doesn't nurture, she just takes from you and bullies you
Later, just when you've about cried yourself to sleep, you hear the bedroom door open
"Alastor..?"
"Not a chance, pet."
Now what does she want
"Why are you even here?"
Suddenly she pounces on you, grabbing your wrists tightly, eyes wild with fury she must've been containing this whole time
You don't even know why she's so mad at you, you haven't seen her in years-
"You think you're better than me now, is that it? Now that you're on your own, living in some fancy hotel, got some powerful boytoy, hiding behind hell's princess?"
As a kid, she seemed so strong but now you easily rip out of her grasp and manage to create some distance between you two
"I'm not hiding behind anyone! I'm just trying to get away from you!"
"Oh no no no, that's not how this works! I am your mother! If I have to be miserable and live in filth then so do you!"
"Why are you even here!?"
"Because it's not fair! I deserve to be here! Not some ungrateful little bitch who just happened to fall out of me!"
She lunges at you and you try to dodge her but she manages to grab you by your hair, yanking you back
You're about to start swinging when Alastor is suddenly there, watching the two of you in bewilderment
Then that bewilderment melts away into understanding, then anger
The radio sounds in the room are suddenly deafening, your mother letting go of you so she can cover her ears
You take the chance to kick her away, watching as she tumbles and loses consciousness from the impact
Alastor kneels beside you but you flinch away from him, still feeling hurt
"Y/N...I'm so sorry..." He does look properly ashamed, his smile a little watery
"Why didn't you just tell me that she was like this..?"
How could you even begin to start?? That you didn't want to somehow sour his opinion of mothers by telling him about your own?
That you didn't want him to feel guilty for having a mother who loved him while you grew up having to be a mother to your siblings because your own mom had none to give??
It's just word vomit at this point, but Alastor simply gathers you into his arms, tutting as he checks your scalp and fixes your hair
When he gets to your wrists where your mother grabbed than his smile turns positively venomous, giving your mother a deadly look
"What do you want me to do with her? Anything you ask..."
You're a little irritated that he brought her up, having been too relaxed by the feeling of his lips against your palm
"I just want her out of here..."
And that's all it takes, Alastor calls for Niffty and has her take out the trash, her scuttling out gleefully while dragging your mother
Niffty doesn't even care, she's just happy to have a new toy
You didn't realize how stressed out you were until it was just the two of you, Alastor rubbing your back soothingly
You don't know when you fall asleep but when you wake up Alastor is kissing the side of your face, looking as apologetic as he can be
You manage to convince him to apologize in morning snuggles and by the time you two come downstairs everyone else is awake
"Where is Y/N's mom?"
Not Niffty giggling and running out of the room
Alastor simply shakes his head and wraps an arm around your waist to hold you closer
"She is gone and won't ever be visiting again, I would like to ask that nobody brings her up again~"
Something about the way he says it manages to shut everyone up
Alastor takes you out to eat your favorite breakfast and spends the day spoiling you
He doesn't bring up the events of last night until the two of you are in bed, entangled in each other's arms
"You didn't ruin my opinion of mothers, you know."
"I didn't?"
"No, in fact, it sounds like you were quite the mother back in your day~"
Not his hand rubbing your belly
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OH MAMA THIS ONE TOOK ALL DAY! I hope you liked it!!
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luveline · 10 months
Text
spoilers for spider-man: across the spider-verse below
please don’t read any further if you are avoiding spoilers
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
miguel hops dimensions expecting a new family, and a new life. he’s not expecting you —featuring a tired miguel and his confused but adoring wife. or, miguel gets the comfort he so desperately needs. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k
tw. gun mention/no graphic scenes
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Miguel seems different when he comes home that night. You've loved him for years, you know his face. He looks slightly younger and older at the same time, impossibly so. He looks like he has bad news and he doesn't want to tell you. Something harrowing. How else can you explain his expression? 
You stand up from the dinner table. "Hey," you say gently. "Is there something wrong?" 
He isn't convincing when he answers, "What? Uh, no. Nothing's wrong." 
"Something looks wrong." 
You step in front of him and lift your chin. Usually, he'd look down with a smirk, or at the very least a smile, but he seems weary. You lift your hand to his cheek, pinching it between your fingers without malice. 
"Smile, handsome. You have a lovely smile." 
He smiles. His lips part just slightly. "You… you really love me. You're happy." 
"We're happy," you correct. "Me, you, and Gabs forever, right?" 
"Gabs?" he asks. 
"Don't start with me. Gabriella's a mouthful. A beautiful mouthful," you concede. "I still think we should've named her Sofia. And yeah, Miguel. I love you. Really really. Don't forget it." 
You make him sit at the kitchen table. It's a selfish manoeuvre; you want him to sit so you can actually reach his hair. Your husband is the tallest man you've ever met. 
"Did you get a haircut?" you ask, running your fingers through his hair slowly. He shivers at your touch, and tilts his head back in question. "You did. That's such a betrayal, my love. I've been cutting your hair for going on six years now, I'm suddenly not good enough?" 
"You're good enough," he says. He really sounds so strange. 
"I'm joking. Miguel, if there's something wrong, you really need to tell me. I can make it better. Well, I can try." You bite your lip, unnerved by his quiet, solemn air. 
"Am I being weird?" he asks.
"No," you say, worried he thinks you're judging him. You never would. (He's being really weird.) "Of course not, you're just quiet tonight, that's all. Did you have a bad day at work?" 
"I– I got mugged. On the way home from work. I forgot the– the milk." 
"You what?" you ask, eyes widening in shock. Miguel's kind of gigantic. You've always said that you pity the fool who tries it, but apparently he's less hardy than you thought. A mugging explains his weird behaviour these last five minutes, at least. "What happened? Sweetheart, are you okay?" 
You take his face into both hands. He has dark circles under his eyes and a scratch along his jaw, but he seems unhurt. You suppose being attacked would age you instantaneously too. 
"Miguel, are you in shock? Should I take you to the hospital?" 
"I'm okay. I just feel strange." 
"Are you sure?” He nods hurriedly. You purse your lips. “I'll make you something warm to drink, that'll help. As long as you're not hurt, right? Did he take your wallet? We'll have to cancel your credit card." 
Miguel catches your shirt before you can go too far. 
"Hm?" you hum in question. 
Miguel visibly deliberates. His eyebrows lift ever so slightly. "Could I hug you?" 
The hurting and worry you have for him intensify before falling on the back-burner. You can shove your own feelings aside easily if he needs comforting. 
"I don't think you have to ask me," you say, offering your arms. 
Miguel is usually a short but meaningful hugger. You've hugged so many times and in what feels like every place on earth, and he's such a tall man that even if he doesn't mean for them to be, his arms are all encompassing.
It surprises you that this hug is different. He's tentative. When his hand falls to the small of your back it slots into place, and you can feel his relief like a palpable thing. 
"You’re okay," you say, your lips at his crown, your legs between his.
He's keeping space between you, and you don't like it. You press yourself as close to him as possible, your arms behind his shoulders, cupping the back of his head. Soft hair tickles your palm.
"Was it scary?" 
"Was what scary?" he asks. You don't mention his little sniff. He's smelling your hair. 
"Being mugged? Did he have a gun?" 
"Yeah, he did." 
"Oh, I see. There's no shame in being scared, you know that?" 
"I'm not scared. I wasn't scared when it happened. I just wanted to come home to you." 
You frown. His admission is like a barb in your chest, aimed true for your heart. "I'm so glad you did," you confess against his forehead, a murmur of sound. "So, so glad. I don't know what I'd do without you." 
You kiss his head three times in a row. The last kiss lingers, his arms slackening around you. 
You pull away, not wanting to smother him. Whoever's watching knows he's had enough of you these last few years. 
"Where–" Miguel clears his throat. "Where's Gabriella?" 
"She's in her room. Call her." 
You're hoping time with her will bring him back into focus. He's clearly more affected by this than he's willing to say. You don't know how you feel about it. Terrified, because you could've lost him. Euphoric that you didn't. You'd had this funny feeling all day long, and it's weird, you’d felt that something bad happened, a moment at the sink with Gabriella singing in her room, the clock ticking on the wall. Miguel late, but promising to bring the groceries you needed home with him before dinner. 
"Gabriella?" he calls up the stairs. You watch from the stove. 
You'll grab the pan and make him some hot cocoa. Just as soon as he stops looking scared. 
"Daddy?" Gabriella asks back. She's audibly ecstatic, and her footsteps are a stampede from her bedroom. You can see her from the kitchen when she gets to the bottom of the stairs. "Dad, pick me up!" 
"Oh, right," Miguel says, leaning down to hold her. 
He pulls her with all the grace of an elephant to his chest, and she nearly chins him. 
"Woah, careful." 
"Dad, you're super late. Mom said I can yell at you for being late." 
"You can yell at me, if you want to." He gives her a curious look. "I'm sorry for taking so long." 
Gabriella tilts her head to the side, dark hair shifting. She's a gorgeous little girl and her dad can't withstand it, melting as you hoped he would, the taut string of his back finally cut in two.  
"I don't want to yell at you," she whispers. 
"Good, because I don't want you to yell," he whispers back. 
Gabriella leans back in his arms and giggles thickly. He almost drops her, and has to readjust his hold on her back. 
"I'm so happy you're home!" she cheers, bringing her little hands up together from her chest and thrusting them out like fireworks. "You work too much! I thought doctors was s'posed to make everyone better and go home." 
"I'm not that kind of doctor," he says. 
You turn from where you've brought cocoa powder and milk to an emulsified simmer on the stovetop and beam at him. It's your favourite thing in the whole world when she mixes it up. Ever since she found his ID card with DR. written clear as day before his name, she's been under the impression that he works at the general hospital. Alchemex might break medical thresholds, but it is far from a hospital. 
"Are you having hot cocoa with your dad?" you ask Gabriella. 
She gasp in excitement and lists toward you. Miguel almost drops her for a second time. "Yes, oh my gosh!" 
"Well, come and sit. What mug?" 
Gabriella can't decide on what mug she wants; there's the orange cat with too many whiskers, there's the black one with bright white stars. After some deliberation, she decides on her and Miguel's matching daddy-daughter mugs.
"You're having some too, right?" he asks you. 
"Don't I always?" you ask. "Though I do want to protest the mugs. Where's my mug? Don't I deserve number one mom?" You kiss the top of Gabriella's head where she languishes in Miguel's lap, before placing their hot cocoa down far from her arm's reach. "It's hot." 
Miguel doesn't touch his. You blow cold air at Gabriella's and dip your fingertip into it periodically, content to spend some time with them both in amicable quiet. Gabriella just loves him to pieces, and she leans back in his arms with her eyes closed, basking in his closeness. 
She squints at you with one eye. "Dad?" 
Miguel doesn't answer. You nudge his foot. 
"What?" he asks.
"You're not doing the thing." 
"The thing?" 
You frown. 
"Yeah, dad." She huffs and curls his arm manually across her front. "Please, I want the kisses." 
He looks at you, completely lost. You're feeling similarly confused. "She wants you to kiss her hair," you say, wondering if perhaps he's suffering from stress related amnesia. 
He leans down carefully and kisses her hair. It's not the usual enthusiastic kiss, and he doesn't bother blowing in her ear after. 
Gabriella glares at him. "My ear!" 
"Blow in her ear," you mouth. 
He blows gently into her ear. She shivers, shudders, and laughs up a storm. 
When the cocoa's been drunk and the mugs washed and put away, Gabriella races upstairs, promising to return with a storybook and the drawing she made earlier in the day once she’s changed into her pyjamas. Miguel looks less lost than he had. In fact, he looks normal. The warm drink has put colour in his cheeks, and his daughter's cuddles have done their job. He's relaxed. He's forgotten the fear of the mugging, you're almost sure of it. 
You waver beside him. "Can I sit with you, or am I too heavy?" 
"Why would you be too heavy?" he asks. 
"You always say I'm too heavy," you say, sitting down on his thighs. They feel solid, a little different from usual. Miguel works out, but this is strange. He must be more tense than you thought. "It's your worst joke." 
"I'm sorry. I won't say it if it upsets you," he says, his voice rough and low. 
"Who said anything about that?" He's never called you heavy to be cruel. 
"Sorry," he apologises again. "I think all the excitement today messed me up." 
You spread your fingers wide across his chest, his heart beating a surface below. "It's okay. You don't have to react any one way…" You rub the tip of your nose against his jaw lightly. "I'm so glad you're okay. I had this weird feeling like something bad happened to you, you know?" 
Miguel laughs and coughs at the same time. It borders on being distressed. He's really worrying you. "You did?" he asks. 
"Mm-hm. But you're okay." You work hard to sound sure. 
His hand slides between your legs, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your upper thigh, though it doesn't stay there. He pulls away, looking flustered. "Sorry." 
"For what?" You blink. 
"I don't know." 
You laugh and press a kiss to the column of his throat, your nose squished against him. "I was thinking we'd watch that new movie tonight, with Harry Woodson, but it has guns and stuff. Would that still be okay?" 
He puts his hand behind your ear and guides your head back to look you in the eye. It's a familiar touch. He looks like himself again, though you truly are offended by his haircut. Maybe something happened at work and fried it off. 
"You're really something special," he says quietly. 
"How so?" 
His face softens with your flirting tone. "You're kind. You're so kind. I've never met someone like you." 
"What are you talking about?" you mumble. It's your turn to feel flustered, jellified by the earnestness lining his features. 
"You're sweet, and soft, and so pretty," he says, matching your tone. He's looking at you like he's seeing you for the first time. 
You understand the feeling. Sometimes you look at him and can't believe he's your love. 
"Soft," you repeat. "Are you trying to say something?" 
"Like that. That joke. You don't even sound mad." 
"You don't have to be so amazed. I've been like this since we met, haven't I? I'm hardly ever angry with you." You follow down from his eye to his jaw with your knuckle, tracing a tear he hasn't shed. He's spun you into thoughtfulness, and more than that —reverential fondness for him aches in the very centre of your stomach.  
"I must have some good luck," he says. 
His near death experience has inspired a wave of sappiness. 
You lean in until your forehead touches his, giving him time to close his eyes or lean away if he wants to. 
"I love you," you say simply. "You're not lucky, you're amazing, and all this good you see in me? I see it in you, O'Hara." You huff a laugh, breath fanning over his top lip as you steal a wonky kiss. You pull back. "You're sure–" 
Miguel kisses you. His hand flies to the back of your neck and his lips are eager, his head tilted to one side to accommodate your nose. He deepens the kiss and it's a mess, really, nothing like his usual kisses, no practised ease, nor confident touches. His fingertips push at the hairs lining the nape of your neck as though he's not sure what to do with his hand. It's like kissing him for the very first time. 
It's not a bad kiss. 
You kiss back slowly. You're the steadying constant to his hotheadedness, in kissing and in everything else, pulling time into an endless stretch of his mouth under yours, his body heat seeping into your skin. 
The sharp point of a tooth catches your bottom lip. You gasp into his mouth and flinch away from him. 
"Um, ouch? What was that, handsome, did you get your teeth filed to spikes?" you ask, probing your lip, a flood of giggles slipping between your fingers. 
He looks at you like you've lit the sky one star at a time. 
"Sorry," he says. "I'll be more careful, I swear." 
"Sure," you laugh. "Well, you'll have to be more careful later. You promised Gabriella you'd read her the Wishing Tree, and she's expecting a performance. Voices included." 
He adjusts you in his lap with more strength than you knew he had. "Will you help?" 
You'll always help him. He doesn't even need to ask. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!
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toruro · 10 months
Text
— ✧ the cake in the back
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pairing. choi seungcheol x reader
description. cheol is a regular at your bakery, and it's all because his son loves the banana bread you make—at least that's what he tells himself. it also doesn't hurt that you're cute. and polite. and totally someone he'd like to fuck.
genre. smut, fluff
tags. rich dilf cheol, bakery owner reader, or4l (f receiving), car s3x, kitchen s3x, pet names (angel), cr3ampi3, aprons ... hehe
w/c. 3.8k+
a/n. IGNORE THE TITLE OKAY I THOUGHT IT WAS FUNNY. look i know it's corny and i literally am writing this on a whim but happy father's day
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"soobin's not with you today?" your voice is cheery and gentle when you greet your regular.
mr. choi smiles and shakes his head. "shocking, i know," he laughs in that deep and velvety tone that has you bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet out of pure giddiness.
"a pleasant surprise," you reply, putting on some gloves as mr. choi approaches the counter. it's near closing, and it's around that time of day where people usually don't come in as much, so you've been alone and just cleaning up the space yourself. "what can i get you, mr. choi?"
the handsome man chuckles, flicking his wrist as he pushes some hair back, the reflective surface of his wrist watch (that you definitely don't want to know the price of because it might just make you pass out) glinting under your bakery's warm lights. "thought i told you to stop calling me that. seungcheol is much better considering ..." he searches for the words for a moment. "... we see each other so regularly," he concludes.
"i've got to maintain some level of professionalism, don't you agree, mr. choi?" you tease. "the regular, i'm assuming? two banana breads?"
"you already know it."
grinning, you nod and pull up a box. "how's soobin? i haven't seen him or you in a while. i'm starting to miss my favorite customer."
"i'm sure soobin would be flattered to hear that. he's doing well, i couldn't bring him today since he's got a swimming class this evening," seungcheol explains, pulling out his wallet that's donned in some brand name that looks so expensive you don't even know how to pronounce it. you move down the counter grab some of the bread which is on your far left, and he walks down on the other side to match you, keeping up the conversation.
"ah yes. he seems to be around that age to start learning. better now than never, honestly. my younger brother didn't learn until he was older and it did not seem easy," you say with a giggle, bringing out the tongs to grab two small loaves.
seungcheol nods in agreement. "that, and i'm planning on taking the two of us on a vacation spot in a few months ... not sure where yet, but soobin's been wanting to go to a beach location for ages," he tells you, and your heart swells.
the image of soobin and seungcheol, goofing around on a beach send a warm feeling through your body. it's also maybe an added plus that there's a flicker in your mind of what seungcheol would look like in nothing but swim trunks, skin shining from the water under the beaming sun, dark hair splayed across his forehead.
you wonder what he's hiding beneath that plain, beige t-shirt of his. his arms are somewhat exposed, and from just the little bit of muscle that peeks out and flexes when he moves around, you think you can safely assume he's got much more going on in the places where your eyes can't reach.
realizing he's still right in front of you, you blink down hard as an attempt to pull yourself back into reality, eyes flickering up at the handsome man in front of you.
"s-sounds fun," you say honestly, packing the bread and handing it to him over the counter. in this moment, seungcheol catches sight of the apron you've got on. it's light pink and hugs your figure so nicely, he can't help but comment on it.
"new apron, huh?"
shyly, you look down and nod. you hadn't expected him to notice. "uh, yeah. my employees got it for me as a birthday gift, actually."
seungcheol furrows his brows as he hands you his card so you can charge him. "it's cute. was your birthday, um, recent?"
you nod casually, tapping at your machine for a second before handing back his card, trying to ignore the way his comment first comment has your stomach flipping and flopping around. "yeah, it was a few days ago."
"i'm sorry, i didn't know," he says sincerely, causing you to frown.
"hey, don't worry about it. it's not something i expect my customers to know and—"
"let me treat you to something," seungcheol says abruptly, cutting you off mid-sentence. he realizes after that it's a bit rude, but something about the way you brush him off as just a customer makes him feel the need to prove you wrong.
"i—i'm sorry?" you ask, and for a moment seungcheol almost mistakes your confusion for apprehension, but then he drinks in the way you look up at him curiously, lips slightly parted, and he relaxes.
"you're closing soon, right? let me ... treat you to something," he repeats. "a coffee or something, if you don't mind."
"oh, i can't possibly impose like that, especially when you've got to pick up soobin and—"
"i wouldn't be offering if you were imposing. he's getting picked up by my friend anyways—his son and soobin are going to have a play date and stuff and—" he's rambling, seungcheol knows that, but he can't seem to care. "basically what i'm saying is you don't have to worry about that. seriously. wait—not that i'm forcing you. you can totally say no, i just ..." he sighs, "don't want you to say no because you think you'll be imposing. 'cause you won't be."
when you smile brightly up at him, eyes glittering and laugh cheery, a wave of relief washes over seungcheol. "i—thank you for the reassurance. i'd love to get coffee, but i do have around twenty more minutes before closing and i still have some stuff i need to clean up and i'm not sure if you—"
"i'll wait." he pauses, then adds, "and help."
you're a bit apprehensive at first—a customer helping you out with closing? but you're quick to learn that once cheol has his mind set on something, it isn't the easiest to pull him away from it—and right now cheol is determined to treat you, as he put it.
the next forty-five minutes is spent with you directing seungcheol around your bakery. he's a surprisingly fast learner and before you know it, all the pastries are loaded in the back, the dishes are cleaned, your floors are swept, and suddenly you find yourself outside of your shop with the doors locked, standing next to seungcheol who watches with you a clouded expression.
"thank you so much for the help," you say bashfully. "you're already taking me—" is it too soon to say he's taking you out? oh well, what's done is done. "—taking me out. isn't this a little too much?" you joke, wiggling your brows.
seungcheol chuckles and shakes his head, pulling his eyes out of his pocket and twirling around the chain around his fingers. fuck, he has really nice fingers—
seungcheol's voice interrupts your thoughts "do you have a car or—"
"i usually take the bus home," you explain, rocking back and forth on your feet. cheol frowns, but doesn't say anything. maybe he can fix that, but that's an thought for another time as he points at his suv, all black from top to bottom, with tinted windows and full black wheels.
there's a silence that envelopes the two of you when you slip into the passenger seat, placing your work bag on the floor. seungcheol is already in the driver's seat, key stuck in but not turning on the engine just yet.
you glance between the sight of your bakery out the window, and back at seungcheol who already has his gaze on you.
"you're going to have to be transparent with me for a second," seungcheol says seriously, locking eyes with you as you shift your body to face him. "and i want to make sure we're on the same page about ..." about whatever is going to go down.
you bite down on your lip, and even though cheol knows you're doing it absentmindedly, he can't help but feel his pants grow tighter at the way it puffs up when your teeth release it.
"i ... i think you know we're on the same page," you reply shyly, shifting a little in your seat to try and make up for the silence.
"you want this?" cheol clarifies, one eyebrow cocked up.
a feeling of pride swelters in his chest when you reply without hesitation, "i do." and then a bit more quietly, you add, "i, uh, have for a while."
now cheol usually likes to tread lightly; he doesn't want to mess around and is great at keeping his dick in his pants but there's just something about the way you look at him so cutely.
you look at him like you know all the nasty things he wants to do to you, and you bat your eyelashes like you don't care—like you'd let him. like you'd take every damn thing he gives you without a single word of complaint, and it's driving him crazy.
again, cheol is great at keeping his foot on the brake, but then you swipe your tongue over your bottom lip and suddenly he's slamming his feet on the accelerator.
wrapping one hand around your neck, he pulls you to smash his lips onto yours. it's a gentle kiss—tentative, as if you're both testing the waters. pressing against each other as your faces tilt, your hands find purchase in his hair when cheol laps at your bottom lip. that's where it all takes off.
the kiss turns from innocent and sweet to sloppy and fast within a matter of moments and suddenly you're grappling at his arms, his hands are searching for your tits, gripping at the flesh and before you know it, you're being thrown to the back.
seungcheol nearly slams your back down onto the seats, your loose shirt riding up your stomach in the process to reveal the lower half of your bra. "fuck," he mutters, low and under his breath in that raspy sort of way that has your clothes feeling too hot and your cunt too empty.
"seungcheol," you moan, unbuttoning your work pants and shoving them off your legs, along with your panties in one go, leaving your wet cunt open and bare. he doesn't take a moment to shuffle back and bring his face down to be level with your core, eyes looking up at you with some kind of mischievous glint that has your stomach churning.
with a bit of hesitance, he places a soft kiss over your clit, watching you carefully to see how you react. when you whine and arch your back against the leather seats, he figures that that reaction is good enough, and this time lets his tongue out, swiping it against the throbbing bad.
"sweet," he murmurs, lips moving down against your folds. the movement and vibrations send sparks through your core and up your spine, and you shudder at the feeling as one hand flies down to grip at his dark hair. "so fuckin' sweet," he repeats before diving his tongue back, swiping it up and down between your folds.
"ah-h-h, seungcheol—fuck," you whimper when he presses the wet muscle flat against your drooling hole, continue to circle around and tease you. fervently, cheol—to put it bluntly—makes out with your cunt. digging his face in between your legs, his nose brushes against your clit when he adjusts his neck to lap and suck against unexplored areas, leaving you mewling into your arm as you try and sit still for him.
there isn't much room in the back, and to be frank, your limbs are in an uncomfy position, and you can only imagine the strain cheol is feeling, bent over and legs in an awkward position when he holds your hips and pulls you closer so he can smother himself in your pussy. he doesn't seem to mind though, lifting his head every few moments to grin up at you with hazy eyes, glossy lips, and a drenched chin, off-handedly commenting something dirty about how nice you taste, how he could live between your legs, how you're driving him fucking insane.
it's the meticulous flicks of his tongue, the deep and guttural words that escape his honeyed lips, and the girth of his fingers when he finally plunges them into your warm cunt that bring you to your edge. it only takes a few rubs and curls against your aching walls before your shaking, crying out his name as you thrust upwards, holding his face down so you can grind against him.
and he whispers the words, "cum angel," so sweetly—a complete contrast to the way his tongue is scooping up all your arousal—and so you cum like you never have before.
fuck my life, you think to yourself as the waves of your orgasm finally hit you. cheol rides you through the high, and he does it good. so good, you're left breathless when he pulls away from your cunt with a dopey smile and feather light kisses all up your thigh and stomach, and then finally your lips.
"my place?" he asks, stroking your cheek gingerly as you blink up at him. and when you nod hazily, he pats you lightly, helping you back to the passenger seat before helping you slip on your panties and pants back on. this time, when cheol gets back into the driver's seat, he places one hand on the steering wheel, the other secure over your still quivering thigh. "relax angel," he murmurs, and you can't help but burn at the gentle words. this can't be the same man who ate you out like you were damn piece of cake just moments earlier.
the drive is quiet, but not uncomfortable. if anything, you're fucking enthralled. when he stops at a red light, cheol looks over at you and when your eyes meet you can't help but giggle together until you're cheeky, grinning mess by the time you pull up to his house.
parking in the lavish drive way, cheol tells you to hold on for a second, getting out of the car and making his way to your side, to open the door for you.
"i didn't know that this what you meant by coffee," you giggle, stumbling out next to him and letting him wrap an arm around your waist to help you up the steps to his house. it's a beautiful estate, really, but you aren't too focused on admiring the luxury right now—you're much more interested in what's to come between you and cheol.
and you're about to find out soon enough because as soon as he opens the door, lets you in, and closes it behind you, cheol's hands are all over you. with your eyes closed as you two engage in a hot mess of tongue and teeth and lips, your rocking back and forth in his arms, his legs leading to you to some place you're not really aware of until you feel something hard and cool press against your lower back.
"wear the apron," cheol tells you firmly when he pulls away, pressing you against his cold stone counter. you knit your eyebrows together in confusion, but let your bag that's still on your shoulder drop onto the counter, taking out your apron without hesitation.
it's now that you realize you're in his kitchen. if you weren't in such a ... intimate setting, you would have admired the design, the appliances—all of it. perhaps you'd even wonder what it's like to bake in here, cooking up soobin's favorite banana bread with cheol by your side and—you save those thoughts for another time.
"w-why?" you murmur in response to cheol's request, as you pull the apron out, pulling the pink strap over your head, tying it behind your back as the ache between your legs begins to creep up on you again. cheol's big hands find purchase on your hips again, holding down you down with a firm grip as he turns you around and pushes your back down.
"'cause," he grunts out, and you nearly moan when you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling and fabric rustling as he shoves his pants and boxers down. it hardly takes a second before his hands are at the hem of your own pants, yanking them down and giving you a moment so you can step out of them.
you wiggle your ass around for a second, turning to look back at cheol with pleading eyes and ask him to just fuck you already, but then he locks a hand under your jaw, cupping the underside of your face and pulling it up so your back arches into his touch. you can feel the angry, hard head of his cock prodding against the plush of your ass and the feeling of him brush against you has you whining.
"patience, angel," he coos, pressing his face next to the shell of your ear and placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head before easing his way through your folds. you can't even see him but you just know he's big—fat length rubbing up and down your folds as he coats himself in your arousal as you whisper incoherent pleas for more.
"cheolie ..." the nickname slips from your lips with out as much as a brainless thought but it has cheol's head rewiring.
"fuck, say that again," he demands, snaking the hand that's not holding your face down your back until it's gripping the cute little bow of your apron.
you hum as you feel him tugging at the fabric, jerking your body backwards and pushing your cunt harder against him, the fat tip brushing against your sensitive clit. "cheolie!" you mewl again, and you're really not expecting the way he jams his cock into you in one go. not that you're complaining of course.
'cause how could you complain when he's stretching you out so nicely? when his cock is so long it's already hitting kissing your cervix and hitting spots inside of you that you didn't even think were possible to reach? when he's so deep that his balls are pressed against your burning core and his pelvis is flush against your ass?
"you feel so good," cheol moans, and you squeeze around him even tighter when you hear the low, gruff words escape his lips. "this pussy was made for me, huh?" he breathes out with a chuckle, as he pulls out halfway before pulling the strings of the apron so your core meets him halfway, slamming his cock back into you.
"oh god," you moan loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you try and swivel your hips against his for some added stimulation.
"gonna think abt this every time you wear this, won't you?" cheol grunts, twisting his fingers around the bow in the back so he hold onto it tighter.
the thought runs through your fucked out mind for a moment; you're gonna have to walk into work tomorrow, and if you're wearing the apron, you'll have to sit through the day knowing that you had cheol's cock buried inside of you under this same fabric—if you aren't wearing it, you'll have to come up with an excuse for your lovely employees as to why you're not wearing their precious gift.
which option you're going to go with, though, is swept from your mind when cheol sticks a finger into your mouth and presses down on your tongue as he fucks into you harder.
what a moment, you think. getting railed on the counter of a man who you always thought was out of reach. your insides feel like jelly as his fat cock runs against your walls, veins and curves pressing and dragging through you as heat envelopes you.
and as his thrusts increase in force, you start to realize that cheol is nothing if he is not relentless. just when you think you've whimpered his name so much you think you might lose your voice, he's ramming into you harder, punching the air right out of your lungs as broken moans and squeaks that have him losing his damn mind.
"what a fuckin' angel, creaming me cock so well," he praises, yanking you back and forth at an unforgiving pace to match his calculated thrusts. you feel like you're being thrown around in the best way possible, body throttling every time his hips crash against your ass and cause you to lurch forward and arch your back even more.
and as he goes on, the rub of his cock against you, the press of his balls against your clit, his hand in your mouth and pressing against your jaw—it's all so much and so fast and so good until you're shaking and thrashing in his hold.
"mmf—cheolie, wan' cum," you choke out when you feel his cock twitch inside of you.
"yeah? my pretty angel's gon' cum on my cock?"
"yeah-huh," you answer dazedly, body jerking back and forth as his hips snap more haphazardly now, but still hitting that one sweet spot that has your vision going bleary. "can i cum, cheolie?"
and you ask him so fucking sweetly, he can't hold it in anymore, dazedly grunting out something along the lines of, "yeah, angel, cum f'me," before he spills his hot seed inside of you. the sensation of his cum painting your walls white is the final thing you need before joining cheol with your own orgasm, clenching around him so tightly that it has him gripping down on your hips in a way that you know you'll have bruises tomorrow. not that you mind.
how could you, when you just had the most mind blowing orgasm of your life with the hottest guy you've ever met. as you twitch against him, cheol finally pulls himself out and you whimper lowly at the feeling of being empty even though you know you'd probably pass out if you had his dick in you any longer.
gently, cheol strokes your back and caresses the taught muscles, untying the apron that quite literally had you in a chokehold, letting it fall from your figure. "'m sorry," he murmurs into your neck, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, "was i too rough?"
"n-no," you say, face burning when you realize just how croaky and fucked your voice has become. cheol only laughs at you as you dig your face into your hands as you mumble bashfully, "it was ... great." you're slightly embarrassed, yes, but when you catch the look of endearment on cheol's face, you start to think twice.
as you both attempt to even out your breaths, cheol looks down at you panting against the counter, cum spilling out of your fluttering folds. vaguely, he wonders what you'll look like in a bikini in the bahamas. huh, he thinks, maybe he'll have to ask soobin if it's okay to bring an extra certain someone with them on their vacation this summer.
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a/n. how i managed to get this out in one day i don't know. the cheol effect i guess. anyways, hope u enjoyed!
tags. @xcynthiaaa @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @blinkjunhui @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @marzmeltdown @todorokiskitten (strikethrough could not be tagged)
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Text
NO LONGER IN DENIAL
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masterlist
pairing: anthony bridgerton x reader, bestfriend!benedict bridgerton x reader
description: anthony has made no secret of not wanting to marry, despite it being more than clear that he is head over heels in love with you, his “best friend”. benedict decides he is fed up of anthony’s denial, and takes matters into his own hands — by inciting jealousy from his older brother.
warnings: angst, jealous!anthony cos i’m a sucker for him hehe, benedict being a shit stirrer who i adore, fluffiness at the end <3
“Lady Y/N is joining us for dinner this evening, I believe,” Benedict hummed, a small smirk gracing his face as the eldest Bridgerton’s head snapped up, “Mother told me she hopes to, anyway.”
Anthony watched as his sisters fussed excitedly over seeing you, for it had been at least a week since you had graced Aubrey Hall with your presence and they missed you dearly.
Anthony had too, of course, though he’d never admit it was for any reason beyond how highly regarded you were in his family and how much he enjoyed your friendship.
“I very much look forward to seeing her,” Benedict continued, still smirking devilishly, “Though I did have the pleasure of bumping into her as she left Modiste yesterday.”
Anthony furrowed his eyebrows at his brother, “You didn’t tell me that, brother.”
“Must I share every occasion I see Lady Y/N with you, Anthony?” he quipped in reply, crossing his arms over his chest as Colin stifled a laugh, well aware of what was going on, “One might think you jealous.”
“Jealous? You jest, brother. She is my closest friend, I am simply surprised you would not mention even in passing that you saw her,” Anthony spoke through gritted teeth, “Regardless, I look forward to seeing her.”
“Ah, perfect timing!” Francesca grinned as Lady Y/N’s arrival was announced moments later, and in you walked with a gloriously bright smile on your face, though this faltered as you saw the bitter look on Anthony’s face.
“Is everything alright, my Lord?” you asked shyly, taking a few steps towards Anthony, whose expression softened at this, “Have we chosen a bad day to visit? If so I apologise—,”
Suddenly Benedict was at your side now, “It’s quite alright, my dear Lady Y/N. We are all pleased to see you. Might we take a turn about the room? We have some things to discuss!”
“No fair! You saw her yesterday, I want to show her my embroidery,” Hyacinth pouted, though Benedict raised his brow at her and flickered his eyes in Anthony’s direction as if to explain his actions.
Everyone in the family was well aware of the affection shared between you and Anthony, even if he dared not admit how he felt because of his apparent desire not to marry.
Benedict believed he just needed a push to see that you had myriad other options, and that he could only push away his feelings for so long.
“I’m sure Benedict has something important to share, my dear Hyacinth, but I would love to see your embroidery promptly after,” your voice was like honey to the eldest Bridgerton, who fought off the desire to make his own request for a moment of your time, “There is enough of me to go around! My brother will be arriving shortly, also.”
Benedict began whispering almost as soon as you had crossed the room, endeavouring to make you well aware of his plan so as not to cause any discomfort to you.
He didn’t wish for you to be confused by his sudden flirtation, so immediately indulged you with the details of his concocted plan to induce jealousy in his older brother that might finally allow him to be honest about his feelings.
With some hesitation, you accepted his plan.
Benedict was well aware of your feelings for his brother, and you knew this — after all, you had confessed it to him yourself because you trusted him dearly. Much to Anthony’s dismay, nowadays Benedict was your closest friend of all.
Anthony had once filled that role, but as each year passed and your youth slipped away, you had fallen far too in love with him to be so satisfied with a friendship as you were with Benedict.
Benedict was your best friend — Anthony was the love of your life.
Though he did not admit it, you were the love of his too. This is why Benedict’s interference was so necessary as far as the second Bridgerton son was concerned.
It was unfair for you to believe your love unrequited when it was merely his stubborn refusal to see beyond his ‘duty’ as Viscount and head of the household that prevented him from giving in to his feelings.
The plan seemed already to be working by the time you were seated for dinner, far closer to Benedict than to Anthony who sat at the other side of the table.
He scowled as he watched his brother gossiping with you, still irritated by both his earlier remark about seeing you yesterday and his persistence with being the only person in the room to maintain your attention.
“It is working, my dear friend,” Benedict beamed across at you, leaning forward to both better execute his plan and so that you could hear him better, “If looks could kill, my brother would have seen me long since dead and buried.”
You brought your hand to your mouth, hiding the giggle that escaped as you waited to calm before looking across at Anthony, “Benedict!”
You drew in a deep breath, composing yourself before glancing across at the Viscount and catching his eye immediately. His glare was suddenly no more, his lips curling up in a smile that sent your heart racing.
You mouthed a small “Hello,” to him, blushing crimson at the intensity of his stare. Despite the conversation going on around him, all he could do was look at you.
The staring contest you seemed to find yourself in was swiftly broken by Benedict’s voice calling your name again, returning you to conversation with him.
The rest of dinner passed much the same — small conversations here and there with the other Bridgertons, longing stares from an increasingly restless Anthony, and teasing comments from Benedict, who was certain that Anthony would be confronting you tonight.
“We should probably call for our carriage, I suppose,” you smiled sadly, disappointed with both how quickly the night had passed by and the fact you’d hardly spoken to Anthony throughout, “I’ve had such a lovely evening. I only wish I could stay longer!”
“You could!” Anthony exclaimed, an unusual outburst for the eldest sibling but one that made all at the table laugh as he rose to his feet, “We could have a room put up for you. It is late, and Wellsbury Hall is quite the distance.”
You bit your lip, smiling at him as he sat back down again, “Oh we couldn’t trouble you with that, my lord.”
“Perhaps my dear friend is right,” your brother disagreed, “It is getting late, and if it is no trouble we would be incredibly grateful. And I hope we might repay you with an invitation to Wellsbury in the near future? I hope to host a ball before the season ends so that my darling sister might finally find a husband.”
His eyes flickered between Benedict and Anthony for a moment and you realised that he must have been in on Benedict’s little plan.
You looked around the room cautiously at every smiling face, before settling your gaze on Anthony with a nod, “Very well then. I’d be delighted. The many childhoods spent staying here overnight are often much missed.”
Lady Bridgerton grinned, “Fantastic. Then it is settled,” she turned to the maids stood by the door, “Please prepare two rooms for our guests as quickly as possible. It is, after all, late, and I’m sure they will soon wish to rest.”
The way Anthony watched you for the rest of dinner made you impossibly nervous.
When the maids told you which rooms were readied, you stood to retire to bed, but not before Benedict offered to show you to the room as it was in his opinion the best decorated.
“Brother, I don’t believe it’s appropriate for you to show Lady Y/N to her room,” Anthony huffed, having had enough now of him being stuck to you like heavy-duty glue, “Perhaps you should allow one of our maids to kindly do so.”
“It is quite alright, Anthony. We are in the comfort of our own home, and I know Y/N quite well enough,” Benedict sing-songed, “Unless you would prefer to show her? The maids are quite busy clearing up.”
Anthony’s jaw clenched at his brother’s comment about knowing you ‘quite well enough’ and so he found himself at your side quickly.
“In fact yes, perhaps I should,” he agreed, a sternness in his tone you’d become used to again today. He was so much gentler with you, but today with you so seemingly far from him he has grown stoic again, “After all, I am the head of this household and you have not let me spend a minute with my closest friend, hm?”
Colin interjected now, aware of all eyes on the conversation, “Perhaps Lady Y/N can make the decision herself?”
“I—,”
“Fine, I concede,” Benedict raised his hands in surrender, “I suppose I’ve not let her leave my side this evening, though you cannot fault me for that. I will bid you goodnight, Y/N. Goodnight brothers.”
He took your hand in his, lifting it to his lips for just the gentlest of kisses to the back of it, before he bowed and quickly left the room.
With Anthony facing the other way, towards you, Benedict turned to shoot you a wink before leaving, and nerves bubbled in your gut at the unknown of what was to come.
The kiss to your hand was the final straw for Anthony, who linked his arm with yours and lead you out of the room without another word to anyone else.
You were silent for the walk, but once you stopped still outside of the room you were to sleep in Anthony turned to stand in front of you, his breathing jagged as his eyes searched your face for clues to why he was feeling so furious at your friendship with Benedict.
“Is my brother courting you?” he came right out and asked it, his chest heaving and yours doing so now too as you shook your head.
“Not at all, my lord,” you bit your lip again, before looking down at the ground to avoid his gaze.
He brought his index finger to your chin, lifting your face so that you were forced to look at him again, “And do you wish him to be?”
Again you shook your head, but his finger never left your skin for a moment.
“I was so sure—,”
“Forgive me, my lord, I have just been finding comfort in his friendship of late as I see him regularly about town,” you frowned, suddenly even more conscious of how little time you spent with Anthony in recent weeks.
He leaned ever so slightly closer, “Finding comfort in his friendship? And what of ours?”
“Our friendship, my lord? I—,”
“I apologise, Y/N, but I do not like to see you so close with my brother. Not least because of the fear of a scandal if others saw his behaviour,” he gritted his teeth, “He touches you too often. Leans too close to speak with you and it… it is misleading.”
You gulped, “Why would you be so infuriated by the notion of him courting me, my dear Anthony? He is your brother, and he cares for me. Even if it is not him I wish did so.”
He cocked his head in confusion now, before his eyes widened in realisation of his brother’s scheming. And in considering that, he realised that it had worked.
He’d never wanted to marry, and especially never for love.
But with you stood right there at his finger tips, smiling up at him nervously with a twinkle in your eyes, he threw caution to the wind and realised that you had changed that in him.
He could no longer deny his desire to hold you, to have you entirely as his, to make you his Viscountess.
“Who do you wish to treat you as such, my lady?”
“Surely you can see the answer for yourself, Anthony.”
“I simply wish to hear you say it. But if I must do so first, as a consequence of my foolishness in not seeing it sooner, then so be it. I dislike your closeness to my brother because I miss your attention being mine. I wish to have you at my side always, to laugh with you and dance with you and just talk with you all evening. I do not wish to see Benedict court you because I wish to do so myself.”
“Anthony—,”
“Please, my love, let me finish. I have most probably been in love with you for as long as I have known you, and yet chosen not to see it out of my own stubbornness. If not for my scheming devil of a brother, I might still be in denial. But I love you most ardently, Y/N. And if you feel at all the same then I should like to make you my wife. My viscountess.”
You were speechless, perhaps for one of the first times since meeting Anthony.
You had always told him everything, always saved your last dance for him at balls, always rooted for him in every game of Pall Mall even as his competitor.
And now here he was, the famously anti-marriage Viscount asking if you too wished to wed him.
“Anthony, I had hoped it was clear as day that I too have been unfathomably in love with you for longer than I can explain,” you blushed crimson again under his gaze as a smile spread across his face, “To marry you, well, would be the only way I might find joy in marriage. I know you’ve never sought a match, let alone a love match, but I love you most dearly, my dear Anthony.”
He captured your lips with his as soon as you stopped speaking, knowing that he shouldn’t do so but hoping nobody was around.
Besides, he would soon make you his wife, and he couldn’t contain the excitement.
“I know I’ve previously had my reservations but I am no longer in denial, and I’m sorry for taking my liberties with you by kissing you before we are wed but I could not help myself. And I wish to spend a lifetime kissing you, Y/N. Will you marry me?” he looked shy all of a sudden, which you had never seen before, and you grabbed both of his hands in yours to kiss them.
“Of course, my dear, there is nothing I would like more!”
His smile became impossibly wide, and once more he kissed you out of sheer excitement.
“I’m sorry that this was so abrupt, and I have yet no ring. But my mother will be ecstatic and I plan to give you her betrothal ring because— you are the only woman worthy. And I shall spend our whole life ensuring that I make up for taking so long to do this,” he was vulnerable now, still shy under your careful gaze,
“I had no desire to marry because I had no desire to put the woman I love through the pain of losing me like my mother did my father. She was distraught but— I see now that it is no good wasting time with this fear. However long I might live, I wish to spend those years loving you and making you happy, so that any pain might be worthwhile.”
You kissed him now, tearing your gloves from your hands and reaching up to cup his face and kiss him, “I love you, Anthony Bridgerton. Always. And I cannot wait to be your wife. It will be the greatest honour.”
You were both hot and flustered, and it was taking everything in him not to push open your bedroom door and sweep you off your feet.
But for you, he was a gentleman, and so he settled for one final kiss atop your head and a sweet goodnight.
“We shall tell the others as we break fast tomorrow, perhaps?” you could see the dizzy joy in Anthony’s eyes as he asked this of you, and you nodded profusely.
“I cannot wait, my dear.”
“Then I will bid you good night, my love. I will dream of you, and look forward to seeing you in the morning. Sleep well, my future viscountess.”
“Sleep well, my love.”
As you went to part, you heard a rustle a little way down the corridor, both looking up to see a smug Benedict smirking, leaning on the wall just down the hallway.
“Even I underestimated my own plan. Congratulations, brother. You finally saw sense.”
———
hello! i know this is completely random as i’ve been writing for djats lately but i has this idea and felt the neeeeed to write it. feel free to request more bridgerton fics, as i’m inspired at the moment and rewatching it.
in the meantime, here is my masterlist!
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envy-of-the-apple · 4 months
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Omg hi are your requests still open??? No pressure!
Unfortunately I am here as a Mahito simp and your twoshot of him has me in a chokehold. I’ve re-read that an ungodly amount of times now. That said, I can’t get the thought out of my head of Mahito noncon-ing a reader he likes who can’t see him, who is eventually able to see him in the midst of the act. Aaaaaa
sfjklsdkljsdkfjsdklfjsdlksj oh my god bestie you absolute genius hold on- alsosorrythistooksolong
(Dark!Mahito x reader)
Bed Bugs
(Yandere, dark content, implied somno, noncon, dubcon, choking-but veryvery brief)
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You've been waking up sore lately.
Maybe you aren't sleeping, right? Maybe it's your bed. It might not be expensive, but you bought it solely for comfort.
The pain comes from your thighs. Aching. Numb. And if you looked closely, you swore you could see bites-
Bed bugs. That had to be it.
"I hate those fuckers," your friend groans, "I got a couple bites when I was staying in that cheap motel back in California? Lasted for a week."
"I was looking at exterminators. Everything's so expensive these days," you mutter, swirling your latte, "I don't even know how I got them. Ridiculous."
She hums. The cafe was quiet during this time, not too many customers. The two of you were tucked away in a booth, still nursing the expensive coffee. You'd already heard her rant about the inflation.
"Y'know, my friend's older brother has some kinda' homerun pest control gig. I can ask him about it. Maybe he can give you a discount? I'm pretty sure he specializes in termites but I don't think there's a real difference."
You eye her. "Yeah, no. Termites aren't in any way close to bed bugs. Besides, don't they use acid for termites? I'd still like to sleep on a bed that doesn't give me skin problems."
"See? I'm giving you solutions, and you keep rejecting them," your friend sighs, "I give up. I think you just got roommates now."
You laugh, about to respond, when you feel something dangerously close to your inner thigh. You glance down. Nothing.
"Uh, speaking of roommates, what did you say was happening with yours?" You change the subject, shifting in the booth.
"Oh yeah! Her and Dan are getting pretty serious, I think she's gonna move out soon."
"Oh really?" The touch came back. Harder. More insistent. You gasp when something grabs you by the hips, squeezing.
Your friend gives you a look. "You okay?"
You look around again. Nothing. Again.
"Um, yes! I am." You managed to respond, "Sorry, sorry, just....long day."
You clear your throat, plastering on a smile as you listen to her prattle about the drama in her life. Her voice distracts you from your thoughts swirling in your mind. Each getting more ridiculous than the last. 
You swore it felt like a...hand.
Work kicked your ass today. 
You'd never been so tired, practically falling asleep on the train. Crowded as always. You scrunched your nose as yet another person conveniently forgot to wear deodorant that day. Wonderful. 
At least, the day was over. You could resign to being as unproductive as possible for the rest of your night. 
You scroll through the forum. Almost everyone said that bed bugs- Cimex lectularius because now you've researched them so much you know their scientific name- are a losing battle. The final verdict is to get rid of your mattress immediately. Either that, or you'd need to call a specialized exterminator that cost at least twice the price of your current mattress. You didn't know which was the worst deal. 
You ignore the first few touches. Trains. Crowded area. People who don't understand boundaries. It's the swipe on your ass that makes you turn around and glare at the likely culprit. A sleazy-looking man in his late-forties. He barely even reacts, just arching a brow at your look. 
Typical. You inch away from him, squeezing past the other bodies until you're well past the other side. You lean against the window, blocking yourself from any other unwanted touches. Finally. Some peace. 
Until it started back up again. 
Something solid presses against you. Like-like a wall. Insistent, begging to be noticed. You're forced back, squished against the already small space. It wasn't your imagination. You can't delude yourself. It was real. A real hand was pressing against your pants, right above your clothed pussy. 
But there was no one there. 
What the fuck. 
The rhythm is rough, forceful as the hand starts grinding on your clit, sending tingles up your spine. You let out a confused whine, slapping a hand over your mouth as you squirm fruitlessly against whatever the fuck this thing was. You can't stop it. It's too much. Too sudden. You want it to stop but it takes you higher and higher and higher and-
It's gone just when the train rolls to a stop. All at once, the opposing wall disappears. You stumble out of the doors, legs shaking, panting. 
There's a whisper of a laugh right by your ear. You realize you're very wet.
What. The. Fuck. 
You could have deluded yourself into thinking it was a hallucination. That you were so tired from work you had an orgasm untouched. It sounded ridiculous, but it was plausible, right? Stranger things have happened. 
But, it just kept happening. 
The touches range. Sometimes, it's just a brush against your shoulder. A poke on your cheek. Other times it's more insistent. You can still remember the sharp spank on your ass in your very much-alone apartment. 
You were starting to think you might not be so alone, anymore. 
The worst was when you were out in public. It always happened in public. You'd be at work, typing on your computer when you'd feel a sensation on your pussy, grinding on you until you're close to cumming. When you'd break away to hide away in the bathroom, you'd always find your panties soaked.
Sometimes, you find yourself typing something ridiculous on your computer. Are ghosts real? Can apparitions touch the living? 
In one of these rabbit holes, you stumble across the word Spectrophillia. Forums of tons and tons of people sharing their own experiences that are eerily similar to yours. A woman describes her encounter with her own aspiration, saying that the thing had physical teeth, a physical tongue, a physical- 
You stop reading after that. A horny ghost. Is that seriously what you were dealing with? You weren't raised religiously, so the idea wasn't very appealing. 
Luckily, your doctor was a woman of science. 
"The symptoms you're describing are a very common indication of stress." She types away on her computer. 
You eye her, both in relief and incredulous. "Really?" 
"Of course," she says, "Trust me, people have come up with crazier stories. Now." She turns back to you, clicking her pen before writing a couple things down on her clipboard.
"I'll prescribe you diazepam. Take one two hours after you've eaten before night." She instructs. "Come back if you feel anything out of the norm." 
You nod, still a bit dazed by her answer. Stress, that's seriously all that this was? 
But it worked, oddly enough. The first night back from the clinic, you stopped feeling those pseudo touches. Your insomnia started going away. You started getting a proper sleep cycle. For the first time in weeks, things were starting to work in your favor.
And then you wake up to the sounds of your bed moving. 
Creaking. Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. 
Also, you feel...good. Really really good. Tingles shoot up your spine. A pleased sigh unconsciously escapes from your lips as the pleasure between your thighs grows. You're still incoherent, hips following the feeling. Hands are wrapped around your wrists, pressing them against the mattress. There's a puff of air against your ear. Tongue and teeth that nip against your throat. 
It feels like a wet dream, you think. Blearily, you open your eyes, fully prepared to see some Hollywood actor, your crush from work, a cute stranger. 
You see nothing but the ceiling. But the pressure only increases. 
Immediately, all sleep is gone. You wiggle and squirm under the sudden weight. Weight that shouldn't be possible, considering there's nothing there. Your scream is blocked by a hand clamping itself over your windpipe, squeezing. 
The panic is immediate. You're writhing, doing whatever you can to get air into your lungs. It's not working. You can't move your hands. You can't move your legs. You're dying you're dying you're-
"Can you see me now?" 
You can see him. 
You were expecting something a bit less inhuman. Apart from the stitches that litter his face, he looks familiar, in terms of shape that is. Two human eyes. A human head. Human lips that are curved into a grin. Human skin. 
He looks so normal. And that makes whatever is happening even more scary. 
He releases your throat, and you're sucking in mouthfuls of air, regulating your breathing. He hums in clear delight, leaning away so he straddles you. He tuts when you start crying, sobs wracking your shivering body. 
"Is that all you can do?" He clicks his tongue like he's disappointed in you. 
"Get off," you wheeze, wiggling away, "Get-get off." 
"Why? You were enjoying it a couple of minutes ago." It? You glance down at the mess of bedsheets, where he's still inside you, lazily grinding his cock back into your wet hole. 
Nothing about this makes sense. What was he doing-How can he be-How is he even real when you couldn't see him before? You can't think; your mind is still drowsy on fatigue and the medication. Fuck the medication? Is that why you can barely even struggle?
"What a-are you?" You manage to slur out, words slipping around your tongue like butter. 
He laughs like you just said the world's funniest joke. It only makes your stomach drop. You've never heard a sound so evil before. 
"That's kinda' rude. Your parents never taught you manners?" He drawls, "Mahito, that's my name! I know yours!" You hate the way he says your name with so much perversion. He's ruining the innocence, just like how he's ruining you. 
You open your mouth, intent on screaming, but at that exact moment, his cock slams back inside you. You give out a stuttered moan instead. 
"See? Told you: you like it." Mahito gloats and your mind swirls in and out of focus again. You're barely coherent, moaning and huffing underneath him. You feel disgusted at yourself. For being so okay with this. But-but you can't move. You can barely breathe. 
And, you note with reluctance, he's been doing this for a while. You're practically mid-way through your build-up, so close to an orgasm that you don't want. Given by a fucking monster. 
"Have you-have you been-" 
"Yeah, it's been me, for a while now," he answers without much cadence, "You were so close with the ghost theory. It was kinda cute watching you get so desperate. Finding whatever you could to check out of reality."
Oh. You get it. This was all a game for him. How long has he been doing this to you? Making you stumble around, drowning in your own paranoia. How long has this thing been watching you? Touching you. Fucking you.
"You, on the other hand, are on a whole other level with your delusion." He grins, showing teeth. "Fuck, seriously, did you think you were hallucinating me fingering you? At that point, I have to admire your creativity." 
You can barely focus on his words, not when his cock was digging you out. You were so close, practically on the precipice. He gives one more snap of his hips, and you're gone, pussy clenching around his dick, back arching.
The orgasm feels like it lasts for hours because he refuses to stop moving. He finally grants you mercy by spilling his cum deep inside you, forcing you to milk his cock as he lazily rolls his hips, forcing your oversensitive body to jolt. 
You catch your breath when the world stops spinning. When it grows quiet, you can only hear your own panting. Another wave of tears threatens to spill. 
"Aw, cheer up," Mahito purrs, "At least it wasn't bed bugs, right?" 
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hinacu-arts · 10 months
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Finally found a moment to work on FFPS. Heres a little excerpt
“Fenton.”
Both Dannies turned around. “Which one?” Tucker asked.
“Daniel.”
The Dannies looked at each other. “Which one?” they said in unison.
Damian was clearly getting frustrated. His face scrunched up and his voice tone was clearly annoyed, “How do you usually differentiate yourselves?”
The Dannies started listing off names as they counted on their fingers.
“Danny-with-a-Y,”
“Dani-with-a-I,”
“Boy-Danny,”
“Girl-Danny,”
“Him,”
“Her,”
“The tall one,”
“The shorter one,”
“The older one,”
“The younger one.”
Damian remained frustrated, “I am not calling either of you either of those names.”
“Well, we both respond to ‘Dannie’ or ‘Fenton’.”
“But that does not resolve the issue.”
Dani tilted her head, “Why do you not want to call us ‘Dannie’?”
“‘Dannie’ is a nickname, which would imply we have a closer relationship than we have.”
“What if you called one of them ‘Fenton’ and the other ‘Daniel’?” Steph suggested.
“Fair warning,” Tucker spoke up, “neither of them like to be called ‘Daniel’. Like they really don’t like it.”
“But that is their name, why would I call them anything else?” Damian looked genuinely confused.
“Call me by a name I don’t like and I’ll call you by a name you don’t like.”
“Ditto.”
Damian crossed his arms, “I insist you allow me to call at least one of you ‘Daniel’.”
Danny crossed his arms to mirror Damian, “Alright, Ian.”
Steph tried to smother her laughter. Damian was outraged. Tim had never seen his face that red before. Damian opened and shut his mouth a few times in shock before he found his words, “That is not my name.”
“Sure thing, Dames.” Danny was grinning.
Damian stood up, “I demand you call me by my proper name!”
“Hmmm… maybe we should call him ‘Dami’ instead?” Dani suggests.
“No!”
“How about ‘Day’?”
“No. ‘Amy’?”
“‘Dameron’?”
“You’ve started a war you cannot win,” Tucker sighed and slumped in his seat.
“‘Day-Way’? Because ‘day’ in Damian and the ‘way’ in Wayne.”
“Day-Way, Daway, D-Way- no. Dwight.”
Steph was howling with laughter now.
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priniya · 10 months
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📸 BETTER THAN REVENGE
synopsis. after a fight with sirius, regulus comes to his girlfriend sulking and she decides to have a little talk with his older brother.
notes. regulus black x malfoy!reader
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you and regulus had many more similarities than anyone could guess just by simply looking at the two of you. the most obvious included your background — ancient, pureblood families, who were nuts about purity, both in slytherin, both richer than most of the hogwarts students together, and in everyone’s eyes you were petty, stubborn and pretentious.
you two were petty and seemed pretentious, but it wasn’t all that. the two of you both had siblings, who maybe cared about you in some way, but never showed it well enough for you to be sure they cared. you were sure sirius cared, but you weren’t sure if lucius did. your brother was far from being a family guy.
both you and regulus were also painfully ambitious, and it kind of made the two of you so close as you were paired to one group in slughorn’s classes, and to secure yourself a top spot, you had to work together. and so half a year later, you were planning a trip to france, lying next to each other on the bed in his dorm.
after that one summer everything has changed, and now you two were an official couple, though not many people knew since neither of you wanted to make a big deal out of it. the amount of classes you shared had shrunken since you took different ones, but it just made your bond stronger.
it all happened on a week before both of you were supposed to return to your respective houses (though, regulus would be staying at potter’s), you were wrapping your present for barty, when your boyfriend stormed into the room. pandora, who sat there with you, claimed she would leave you two alone and left. you could easily see that something happened from the look on his face.
“reg,” you began, eyebrows furrowed at his sudden appearance. “is everything alright, love?” a soft ask left your lips as he just laid down on your bed, face buried in a pillow.
silence filled your room right after you finished your sentence. it was time for you to just sigh quietly, putting a hand on his back and scratching it gently. “you know you can talk to me, right?” your soft tone and the sensation of your nails on his back made him grunt.
“i’m not leaving for christmas.” he stated, catching you a little off guard. you were sure it was about the upcoming christmas ball that slughorn threw and since you were invited, regulus was ought to go with you. “i… got into a fight with sirius, so either we make up or i’m gonna go to my parents.” now, he was looking at you with misery and sadness flickering in his eyes.
“he thinks james is more of a brother to him than i am.” regulus adds, his head now resting on top of your laps as you play with his hair, trying to comfort him at least a little. “and he says it’s not that big of a deal, since i consider evan and barty my brothers and i’d probably say that they’re more of brothers to me than he is, but that’s not true.”
his words made your heart ache. it was clear to everyone in your friend group (including remus, who often just tagged along) to know how much regulus needed sirius’ validation, how much he needed to be reassured that he doesn’t hate him as much as regulus thought he did.
“i know we haven’t talked until he moved out, but it still hurts.” he whispered, not even looking you in the eyes. “and he doesn’t even recognize how much he means to me. he’s the only one in our entire family that matters more than everything. i got his initials and constellations tattooed and he thinks i would choose barty and evan over him?”
“you’re brother is an idiot, and i mean it.” you murmured, showering his head with kisses. if regulus was in his usual mood, he would say he just acts like an idiot, but now? he didn’t even want to defend him. “i’ll stay with you. i’d go nuts if i had to spend a minute with lucius.” you say softly, fingers running through his hair.
it took you a few more minutes to comfort him enough to leave your dorm for his evening practice, and even though you were supposed to finish packing your presents before christmas. you had to talk to one, annoying gryffindor, who was no other than sirius black.
getting into their common room was easy, lily, friend of a friend of yours, let you in after hearing your explanation, showing you how to get into sirius’ dorm that he shared with james, remus and peter. “one of you better hold me or i might kill your friend.” you let out, looking specifically remus, who looked at you with a glint of surprise.
“what did he do again?” lupin asked, his expression scolding. “what’re you doin’ here, malfoy?” peter began, but before he could elaborate, remus put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head as you looked for the perfect words.
“how can you be such an asshole, black?” you hissed, the end of your wand pointed at his throat. “one time you’re all on being the best older brother you can, but next time all i see in yourself is my brother, and believe me, that’s the furthest from a compliment.”
“i’m not done, yet.” your teeth gritted, eyes narrowed at him. “he’d never choose anyone over you, yet you’d always choose him —” you looked at james for half a second, then turned your eyes to sirius, again. “— over your own brother, who’d jump into flames just if you asked him to? unbelievable.” you sighed, putting your wand down, sliding it into your boot. “and you know what’s the worst in all that? that i wish he’d pick anyone else over you, but he won’t, because he can’t even get mad at you for not choosing him, he’s just sad.”
the atmosphere in the room is so tense, someone could cut it with knife. “you’re an idiot for making regulus feel so little about himself, and y’all are idiots for letting him.” another sight left your lips as your eyes were locked with sirius. “maybe even regulus will let you treat him like shit, but i won’t, black. i’ll make sure to haunt your dreams and turn them into nightmares, i can promise you that.” you gave him your most ironical smile. “i’m a malfoy, don’t underestimate me, cutie pie.” you sent him a wink,
“protective girlfriend, huh?” remus chuckled as you passed him, giving you a high-five. “oh you bet, lupin.” and you left, sirius almost shamless at your sudden outburst, but… it was quite impressive — though, he’d never admit it.
you haven’t seen neither of them till the next morning at breakfast, when they walked to the great hall together, talking about something until each of them got to their respective tables. “what did you do?” regulus asked, sitting on the bench beside you.
“what?” you asked with a sweet smile, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “just had a small talk with sirius, why?”
“a small talk? with the tip of your wand pressed against his throat?” you nodded at his words, sending him a fake-puzzled look. “you know i love you?” he bit back a smile, leaning closer to whisper those words right to your ear.
“oi, malfoy.” barty started, interrupting your somehow intimate moment with regulus. “theoretically, if i paid you, could you do that to me as well? that must’ve looked bloody hot.” crouch grinned, getting a light punch on the shoulder from your boyfriend.
“i would rather not touch you, crouch. i don’t know where the hell have you been.” you laughed, your head resting on regulus’ shoulder as his arm was wrapped around your waist. “don’t worry, baby. if any of them bothers you, i can fight.” you winked at him playfully.
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multific · 8 months
Text
In the High of the Feeling
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Mattheo Riddle x Cat Animagus!Reader
Warning: smut, tiny blood play, a hint of breeding kink
Summary: Much like for many animals, heat season was right around the corner for you as well.
A/N: This one has a little Omegaverse feel to it. I did try and make it different but there are similarities. Both parties are +18! 
A/N: This can be read as part 2 of this piece.
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Being an animagus had its ups and downs.
Your loving and helpful boyfriend, Mattheo was definitely a bonus.
He would help with any difficulties or tried his best to help. No one in the school knew, none of the students beside him at least.
It hadn't been that long since the two of you got together and he realized your secret.
This will be the first spring the two of you will spend together and you were... for a lack of a better word, nervous.
Extremely nervous.
You knew what spring brought.
It brought a new start. Flowers bloom and animals... yeah.
It was rare for an animagus to be so tied to their animalistic side. But you were.
And with spring, came your heat.
A week where you would have the strongest desire to have offsprings.
Ever since you hit puberty, the feeling was there, but lately, as you got older, the feeling got stronger.
And now, that you had a boyfriend, you knew your body and mind will go crazy, you needed to stay away from Mattheo and you needed a way to explain this to him to the best of your ability.
But how do you explain to a horny guy that he needs to stay away from you because for once it will be you who wants to have sex all the time? With the purpose of getting pregnant.
You couldn't let that happen, you were too young.
You understood it was only nature, but still... no.
"Babe? BABE!" the yell made you snap back into reality as you looked at your boyfriend sitting across you by the table. "You have been distracted lately. Do you have another man or something?"
"Nothing like that... it's-"
"Is it a cat-thing?" he asked as he popped a slice of apple into his mouth.
"Actually, yes." you looked around, making sure no one was there to hear you. "Spring is coming." you said with a low voice and he made a face then a sudden realization. You hoped he would understand.
"You are right! More Quidditch!" you wanted to slap him.
You pinched the bridge of your nose as you let out a long sigh.
"No." you said not opening your eyes to look at him.
"No? Then what Princess? You have to go home for the break or something?"
"My heat is coming." you said, straight up, since you knew dancing around the subject won't help.
"What's that?" you finally opened your eyes and looked at him.
You shouldn't have expected for him to understand.
"Spring brings new life. Flowers bloom and animals..." his eyes grew big with realization. "Professor McGonaghall said she would give me a potion to keep my... needs at bay but apparently the very flower that you would need blooms after my heat would be over so..."
"I'm too young to be a father." was what he ended up saying.
"So am I. It's nature, unfortunately, I can't do anything with it. I will have the week off, I already spoke with the teachers. I have so many things to do. I just wanted to tell you to please just... for that week stay away from me. I wouldn't be able to control myself and... I wouldn't want to force you."
"First of all, you would never force me. I do understand your point now, but I'm also very curious. Tell me more about it. What happens? Does it hurt? What do you do? Do you touch yourself?" you could see in his eyes he was genuinely interested.
"It hurts, unfortunately, yes. But it's a very different pain from like a wound. I would say it's like a heartbreak and a broken leg at the same time. I always have a little area that I put together so I can stay there. I put soft things... pillows, blankets and- Oh that reminds me, can I borrow a shirt from you? Your scent might help me." he only nodded as he listened, he was more interested than ever. "So, yeah I just... I do touch myself, yes. It helps with the pain. I'm just worried about what might happen this time."
"Why?" he reached out on the table and held your hand in his. "What would happen this time?"
"Well, now I have you. I have a partner and my body knows that. So I'm nervous about what would happen this time."
"I see. I will give you the shirts. Many of them. When does this... heat start?"
"You can't really pinpoint it out, it's like a period but it should be this weekend/next week that it starts." you smiled at him, happy he didn't find it disgusting or anything.
"I will bring you my clothes tomorrow then."
"Thank you." but he didn't know, you thanked him for another reason.
The next morning you woke up with a strange feeling. Your foggy mind didn't even realize what was happening. You found yourself thinking more and more about your boyfriend, more specifically, him naked.
You were thankful that last night you at least build your comfort place on your bed.
Your entire body felt hot and your mind could only think of one thing.
The dirtiest images flashed in your mind.
You only ever slept with Mattheo a couple times, but now it was all you could think about.
How soft his skin was, how you could run your fingers over his scars, letting him know that it was okay.
How he smelled and felt like.
How amazing he made you feel as he just kept rolling his hips with a steady rhythm. 
The images flooded your mind as your imagination ran wild.
You wanted him to ravish you. 
To completely fill you up and have your own litter. 
You were going insane. You let out a soft moan when there was a knock on your door.
"Princess? I brought the shirts I promised." his voice, his nice voice, his intoxicating voice.
You felt your ears and tail pop out, you felt your eyes change.
You were gone. Your most basic instincts took over as you walked to that door and opened it.
He was saying something, you saw his gorgeous lips move. But you were far too gone to hear it.
When he looked at you, confused, you pulled him in and locked the door behind him, you pulled on his hair, kissing him with all you had.
Your cat-like teeth managed to scare his lips as you now tasted a little blood along with the tobacco he always smoked.
Your hands found his tie as you began to take off his clothes one by one.
"Hey, hey, slow down." he said as he pulled back as he laughed a little.
"You have too many layers." you said, not even looking at him as you began to undo his belt. That is when he jumped back, keeping you at arm's length.
"Why are your ears out?" you put your hand on his forearm as his hand was on your shoulder.
"I need you." you said with the most intoxicating voice Mattheo had ever heard. He did hear you say those words before. He did make you say and moan many things but this. this was different.
Your voice was filled with lust.
"Oh shit, this is it right? Your heat. Fuck." Mattheo looked around, he knew, he needed to go. NOW. "I-I have to... go." he said but by the time he finished you were completely nude in front of him. His eyes were glued to your body.
Men are such easy creatures.
"Matty, I need you." you said again as he looked into your eyes. 
"Okay... Okay. I-I have condoms."
"Noooo." you walked over to him, you put your hands around his neck as your mouths were only inches apart. "I need you to fill me up. I want to feel it ooze out."
He grabbed your waist with both hands.
It was all too much for him, he felt himself getting harder by the second.
"I'm so wet Matty, please." he had to gulp, he looked away from you and noticed the arranged pillows on your bed. While he was thinking you took the opportunity to make your final move.
He watched as you walked away from him and towards your bed. With your back to him, you knelt down on the bed and moved to lay down with your ass up in the air. You reached under your body and with two fingers you spread your lips, showing him your wet cunt. Then you moved one finger in and dragged it down, letting out a moan as you touched your clit.
"Please, Mattheo." is all you needed to say as you looked at him with your head on the bed.
He lost.
Thankfully he still had the mind to put on the protection.
"Nooo. No condom." you said but he didn't hear you, his focus was on your pussy. 
He jerked himself twice before grabbing your hips and slowly pulling you back, filling you up.
Just what you have been craving for.
You both let out a long moan as he filled you fully. You were finally a little satisfied, feeling his balls slapping onto your skin as his huge cock filled you up to your stomach.
He started off slow, keeping his focus as he felt your tail wrap around his leg then move up his back.
He needed to have control.
You were in a very vulnerable state. He had to remind himself.
But it seemed almost useless because every time you looked into his eyes, his common sense failed him.
Especially when he felt you beginning to move back onto him with rough movements.
"Fuck." he said as he watched you fuck yourself on his cock. "Shit, Babe." but you were a moaning mess. 
If he was far too gone, you were beyond.
"Wait." he said as he almost came, in his nearing high, he grabbed the base of your tail which made you yelp in surprise. "Sorry." he said, knowing how sensitive it was, he ran his hand up your spine. feeling the curve in which you were laying.
He loved it.
He loved you.
You patiently waited for him to began moving again, and when he did, oh how magnificent it was.
His movements were fast, you were sure his fingers will leave their marks but you didn't care.
All you wanted is to feel him fill you up.
Then he grabbed your hair and pulled back on it a little. The room was filled with the noises of skin slapping against skin and moaning.
His name was all you could say as he groaned and moaned. 
Once again you moved your tail around him as he moved you, laying you down onto your stomach, as he put a pillow under it, raising the place he wanted to reach the most. Your fingers entangled with the sheets as he moved back inside you. His two hands by your side as he continued to ruin your pussy.
"So good." he said. "So fucking good. Look at me." and you obliged, looking at him with your cat-like eyes as he was nearing his end. 
"Matty, I'm close." you said as you started to feel the familiar knot in your belly.
Upon hearing that Mattheo knew he needed to set a pace he can keep so you can cum.
He focused on you and you alone, he moved and kissed your shoulder as he felt you tighten.
"Come for me, Kitten." he whispered into your ear as you came with a loud cry. Or, you would have but he put his hand onto your mouth, he felt your sharp teeth gaze along his fingers but he couldn't care.
You felt so tight, warm and wet.
And feeling you cum around him did the trick.
He came with a small shake and a moan as he emptied himself into the condom. However, his instincts did the trick. After, he made long movements as if he was filling you with his cum. Slow and deliberate movements with his softening cock. 
It felt like heaven.
You finally came to your senses a lot more but when you felt him placing kisses along your spine, you knew he wanted this as much as you did.
You seduced him, but you didn't feel guilty about it. 
It seemed that only for a moment he left you but soon he was laying by your side as he put a blanket over the two of you.
"I could get used to this." he said as you cuddled into his side. "You are so sexy."
"It comes with the heat too, I put off a scent which is attractive for men."
"Nah. It was more than that. You were sexy before. We should have done this earlier, I didn't know you could take it so rough."
"I love you." you said as you closed your eyes, ready for a nap before you need your next round.
"I love you too, Princess. I think I could get used to this. Every year, a week where you cannot keep your hands off of me."
"Two." you said with a very drowsy voice.
"Huh?"
"I have heats twice a year. So, two weeks."
Mattheo looked at the ceiling. 
He knew he will need a lot more condoms, he suspected you will wake up within an hour or so and he needed to be ready.
But he can definitely get used to this.
Twice a year.
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2K notes · View notes
morlao · 4 months
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Sisterly advice
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▪︎Luke Castellan x fem!reader
▪︎daughter of Aphrodite
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
You and Luke have always been close. So close, in fact, that newcomers automatically assumed that you were dating. The surprised look on their faces when the older campers told them you weren´t, was according to your siblings hilarious.
It's evening and you're sitting on your bed, your legs crossed, while Silena is braiding your hair.
Of all your half-siblings she is your favourite one. Loving, gentle and kind. She is the perfect definition of a daughter of Aphrodite, as she embodies everything that comes to your mind when you think about love - and you want others to feel the same way. They should also think of her and not your other siblings with their childish plays and cruel rituals of breaking others hearts. Maybe they themselves don´t understand what it means being the child of love.
Silena´s fingers run gently through your hair, parting it and intertwining the individual strands together.
“So… what about Charlie?”
You don't have to see her face to know that a smile flashes across her lips at his name. “What about him?”
“Did he finally ask you out?”
She laughs, trying to pretend that she finds the idea absurd. “We are just friends.”
You turn around and give her a look that expresses your opinion about it all too clearly. Don´t try to fool me, darling. I see what´s going on between the two of you!
Again, Silena laughs, gently turning your head forward again to finish the braid. “Okay, other topic. What about you and Luke?”
You copy her laugh. “What about us? We´re just friends.”
You could feel her rising her eyebrows. “Let me give you some sisterly advice: Just friends don´t look at each other like that.”
“Who did you quote? That sentence is so cliché!”
She laughs, taking a hair tie from your bedside table and wrapping it around your braid. “Well… maybe it is but it totally fits you and Luke.”
You turn around, giving her a skeptical look.
Silena shrugs and sits down beside you. “I mean… have you seen his smile when he looks at you? Also he constantly finds excuses to touch you. He improves your posture in archery, even though you are at least as good at it as he is. And – “ she looks at you triumphantly, “He gives you a kiss on the cheek every time he greets you or says goodbye.”
You feel your cheeks flush and cross your arms, trying to think of a counter argument. “A lot of people do that.”
“Yeah, but you´re the only one where Luke does that. Haven´t you noticed?”
To be honest: no, you haven´t. But now as you think about it in detail... it is true. When Luke greets one of the other girls, he just smiles at them.
“In addition, he immediately drops everything when he sees you”, Silena adds, “Yesterday he left in the middle of training because he saw you walking by and wanted to talk to you. Or on Friday, he was in the middle of a conversation with Chris and you waved at him. And what did he do? Exactly, he immediately jogged over. Also last week…”
“Enough!” You laugh, trying to make her shut up by covering her mouth.
Silena dodges you, laughing as you reach into the void. "He let you draw hearts on his sneakers! He watches the sunset with you! He bought you a bracelet for your birthday! You know, I could go on with this for hours." She steps closer, cupping your cheeks with her hands. “Believe me, sis: He´s in love with you!” Her voice is melodic, angel like even. Loving, gentle and kind.
You feel the heat rising to your cheeks and embarrassed you pulls away and cover your face with your hands. “I´m pretty sure he isn´t! You´re overinterpreting!”
“Nope, I´m a daughter of Aphrodite, I can feel it!”
“So am I! And I don't feel anything!”
Silena grabs her cherry lipstick. “Your reaction makes me think that you like him too!”
Did you like him? You weren´t sure. Of course he meant the world to you, but did you like him more as than a friend? Wouldn´t that be weird kissing him since you know him for so long?
"I'm not sure", you finally manage to say, rolling off your bed and taking a look at the clock. Fortunately, you can at least put the topic off for today. "Oh, damn! Come on, we are already late!”
Silena grabs your hand and leads you outside of cabin 10. It´s already dark and in the distance you can see the flickering flames of the campfire. Most of the campers seem to have already gathered there, their drink in their hands and a smile on their lips as they talk to their siblings and friends.
“Finally!”, one of the Apollo girls greets you.
Chris Rodriguez grins. “Why are the Aphrodite girls always late?”
That is definitely not true! You're not always late. Just most of the times. God, you hate being a cliché.
Luke lifts his head as he hears his brother say “Aphrodite girls”. He spots you and his face lights up like a Christmas tree. Immediately he walks up to you and hugs you, his lips placing a soft kiss on your cheek.
From the corner of your eye you can see Silena rising an eyebrow, as if to say "Well, what did I say?"
“You look amazing”, Luke whispers in your ear, before breaking away from the hug and greeting Silena with a smile. “Charlie is already waiting for you!”, he grins, nodding towards said boy.
Silena giggles, before walking over to him. Gods, it was so obvious that she was head over heels for him.
Luke takes your hand and leads you over to his place next to Chris, where he had already a blanket spread out for the two of you. “Mylady” He pretends to bow.
You can feel your cheeks blush as you sit down. “Thank you so much, Mister!”
Gods, somehow Luke always manages to put a smile on your face. You sit down and stretch out your legs, feeling the comforting heat of the fire.
As Luke takes a seat next to you, you can feel him slide closer, his arm touching yours. Feeling him beside you was comforting, the closest feeling you had to "home".
Luke Castellan. You tilt your head back and look up at the stars as if you expect to see his name engraved up there. You have always liked his name. Luke Castellan. It feels like a secret incantation on your lips.
You can feel his eyes on you. The flickering flames make his face look almost golden. Golden boy. Why didn´t you notice before how handsome he is?
The next song starts and immediately everyone joins in. They lie in each other's arms and rock back and forth, bawling Country roads.
Well, maybe it was just because Silena had told you, but Luke really seems to find exuses for touching you. He leans against you, his arm around your shoulders - even after the song has already ended. You enjoy feeling him so close next to you. The heat he radiates. His soft skin against yours. The realization hits you straight in the face. You had fallen in love with your best friend.
He looks at you and you can't help but smile. Fascinating how beautiful an evening with a campfire could be. For a moment it feels like gods and monsters didn't exist. For a moment everything seems peaceful.
 “Can I talk to you for a second?” You can feel Luke´s warm breath on your neck as he whispers in your ear.
Your heart skips a beat. Did he notice the way you looked at him? Did he suspect something? Was Silena wrong? “Sure!”
Your voice sounds more enthusiastic than you feel.
Luke takes your hand and leads you away from the campfire, away from the singing and the laughter of the others.
You look at him, smiling nervously. “Sooo… what is it? Or did you just want to escape singing Knocking on heavens door.”
He shakes his head, laughing. “No, why would I want to miss Drew´s wonderful voice?”
You cringe at the thought of your sister singing louder than everyone else – and on top of that terribly wrong. She doesn't hit a single note.
“No, actually… Y/N…” He runs a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words. “Gods, you´re so beautiful.”
It´s not the first time that somebody told you that. In fact, being a daughter of Aphrodite, you had heard it thousands of times already.
Still his words felt special to you. Special because he wasn´t just anybody. Ä
He was Luke. Your best friend Luke. Luke who was always there for you, who comforted you when you had trouble with your family, who managed to make you laugh when you lay in your bed crying your eyes out over something your stepmother had said. Luke who you trusted with all your heart.
“I wanted to ask you if you'd like to go on a picnic tomorrow?” He avoids looking at you.
Why is he so shy about going on a picnic? That's quite strange since you´d done this a few times before. You had even found your very own spot with a fantastic view over the sea. There was nothing more beautiful than watching sunsets while drinking juice and eating biscuits. So why does he seem so insecure?
Luke seems to notice your confusion. “I meant as a date”, he clarifies.
You raise your eyebrow, your heart racing. “Are you asking me out?”
“Yeah.”
For a moment you stood there, perplexed. Why was it so obvious to the others while you had no idea?
"So... what do you say?" Luke looks at you, biting his lip nervously. He seems to assume that you aren't answering because you're looking for a way to reject him as gently as possible.
Quickly you step forward, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Yes, I'd love to go on a date with you."
"Really?" Immediately he blushes deeply. That must have slipped out.
"Sure, why wouldn't I?" You giggle, taking his hand. "I've known you for years now. You're kind and brave and one of the most caring people I know."
A laugh escapes his lips. "Wow, if I had known that, I would have asked you way earlier." His hand slowly reaches for your cheek.
You hold your breath as he leans forward and places a soft kiss on your lips. It didn't feel weird at all. The opposite, actually. Seems like sometimes best friends can turn into lovers.
You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer. Soft kisses become more passionate. His hands run through your hair, slowly brushing loose strands out of your face.
When he pulls away a huge smile creeps across his lips. "I love you, Y/N"
You return his smile, taking his hand and intertwining your fingers. "I love you, too."
As you walk back to the campfire holding hands, Silena beams at you. "I told you, Y/N, friends don't look at each other like that."
You shake your head, laughing. "Your advice really is the best."
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950 notes · View notes
riordanness · 4 months
Text
lover — [w.wonka]
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wordcount: 1K
warnings: none
requested: yes!! anon <3
You’d think that working for the greatest chocolate maker in the world would be awesome, right?
You’d be correct. However… some parts were not quite so awesome. Especially when you’re head over heels in love with said chocolate maker.
“Noodle!” I scold, laughing as she tosses yet another chocolate in her mouth, rather than stacking them as we’re supposed to be doing.
She shrugs, and gives me a wicked grin. “Sorry, not sorry.”
I roll my eyes, taking a bite out of my own selected piece of chocolate. Willy always says that we should eat whatever and whenever we like. He just cares that much for us.
“What do you want to do when you’re older, y/n?” Noodle asks me suddenly.
I frown at the question. “I am older.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re like eighteen. I mean older, older.”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m pretty content just working at this shop right now. But I’d like to fall in love, get married, and have a family. That would be nice, I guess. It’s not likely, though.”
“Why not? That’s totally likely.”
I smile a little. “Because, Noodle-dee, I’m not that kind of girl. Guys don’t just go and fall in love with me.”
She smirks a little, and pops another chocolate in her mouth. “You never know, y/n-doo.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” There’s a smile in my voice.
Noodle doesn’t reply, so I let it go, going back to stacking Willy’s gorgeous chocolates in their pretty display cases for the shop. This is honestly probably my favourite job in the entire store. Making it look pretty.
It’s the end of the day, all the customers are gone, and just Noodle, Willy, and I are left, all doing our individual closing duties.
Noodle cleans the floors, I count the till money, and Willy, well, I’m still not exactly sure what he does, but he walks through every single room in the entire building, checking something.
Probably some big important, owner-of-the-chocolate-factory job I don’t know about.
Noodle and her bucket of soapy water makes it way over to me. “Hey y/n,” she sing-songs.
“Mm?” I glance up from counting silver sovereigns.
“You know how you were saying you wanted to fall in love?”
“Someday, yeah.”
Noodle looks amused about something. “Are you already in love? Do you at least have someone in mind?”
My brain immediately, unhelpfully, offers up an image of Willy, with his smiling face and unruly dark curls. I suddenly get very flustered. “Uh—no. Of course not, Noodle.”
“Really.” She raises an eyebrow, deadpanning at me.
I shake my head. “I don’t have anyone, uh, in mind, no. I’m not in love. That’s ridiculous.”
At that moment, without either me or Noodle noticing, Willy reenters the main shop room where we both are. But I’m so engrossed in trying to convince Noodle to drop this topic that I don’t even see him.
“What about Willy?” Noodle suddenly asks.
I drop my stack of sovereigns. “What do you mean?”
Noodle has her hands on her hips. “You like him. It’s so obvious.”
I fumble with the coins, trying desperately to keep my hands from shaking. “No—? I don’t—um. No. I don’t like him. I mean I do, like him. But not, uh, like, like him.”
“Are you sure? You don’t seem sure.”
I groan, slamming the sovereigns onto the counter. “Fine. You win, Noodle-dee. I like Willy. A lot. In fact, I’m desperately in love with him and I think about him almost constantly. Now can you please drop it?” I don’t even realise I have tears in my eyes, but my emotions suddenly come to a swirling head, and I hiccup, and brush a tear away.
“I’m sorry,” Noodle whispers, but she sounds more triumphant than sorry. “I won’t ask you about it again.”
She grabs up her bucket and leaves abruptly.
I blink a few times, let out a sigh, and finish up with the till money. Then I flick off all the lights, lock up the inner doors, and get ready to leave for the day.
Noodle has already signed out, so I guess it’s only Willy left in the shop somewhere. “Willy?” I call, “I’m heading off now!”
Willy appears, hurrying over to me. “Thanks, y/n.” He has a weird look on his face, and he won’t look at me.
“Everything okay?” I ask uncertainly. “You look strange.”
He shakes his head. “Fine, fine. I’m okay.”
“Alright.” I shrug. “I’m heading home now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I say this every day. It’s like clockwork.
Willy usually echoes it back, tells me to get home safely, and gives me a smile. But today, it’s different.
“Y/n, wait,” he says, just as my fingers are on the doorknob.
I glance at him. “Yeah?”
He licks his lips, glancing everywhere but me. “I heard you and Noodle earlier.”
I freeze, unsure of what to say or do. “You did?”
He nods. “Is it true? You’re in love with me?”
I don’t answer right away. I look at him for a moment, breathe, and then nod my head once. “Ever since I met you,” I say, and try to laugh. But it’s not really that funny. It’s kind of pathetic, actually. Because I am just y/n, and he is Willy Wonka.
“Me too, you know.”
It takes me way too many heartbeats to understand what he means. “What?”
“I’m in love with you, too, silly.” He chuckles, playing with his fingers.
I stare at him. “You… you, what?”
He laughs again, more forcefully this time. “Y/n, just come here.” He reaches for me, hands cupping my face, and when he pulls me into him, and kisses me, I can’t even breathe. It’s surreal, like a dream, but it’s real, and it’s happening, and it’s him, and it’s everything.
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chrisevansonly · 6 months
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Oh, for a possible blurb idea what if Oscar or Lando is dating a Leclerc! sister and the three brothers give a shovel talk about not hurting her before he takes her out for a date?
i thought this was very cute:) here you go!
lando sat next to you on the couch at your middle brother charles’s house, beside him was your older brother lorenzo, and of course your brother arthur who you were only a few years younger than
“so let me get this straight, you’re taking my baby sister out norris?” lorenzo stated, a serious look on his features
“yes, yes i am”
you squeezed lando’s hand gently to offer some reassurance
“when exactly did you two start dating?” charles was the next to ask as you rolled your eyes
“charlie, don’t act like you’ve forgotten! lan and I have been together for like six months now”
“SIX MONTHS?!”
arthur screeched from his spot on the couch, sending you into a fit of laughter over the protectiveness from your three brothers. honestly lando was the sweetest human on the planet and always made sure to spoil you and treat you like the princess you were
“so am i cleared to take her out now we have a reservation in fifteen minutes…”
“yes we can go baby come on”
lorenzo and charles both stood up
“now hold on a minute”
you shushed them both
“no we are leaving! bye my wonderful brothers!!”
you led lando away from the living room and over to the front door
“if she’s not back by twelve thirty there will be a serious conversation”
“i can handle a curfew leclerc, come on mate, you should trust me more than this”
lando teased as he swung an arm over your shoulder, pulling you close and kissing your head
“twelve thirty.”
charles waited until you both nodded before watching you walk down the steps and over to lando’s mclaren
“oh and charles?”
“yeah?”
you smirked staring at the three of them in the doorway
“i’ll see you in the morning, im staying at lando’s tonight!”
charles face turned a shade of red before you laughed again, quickly getting in the car as he yelled
“oh, putain de merde!!!”
arthur and lorenzo shaking their heads knowing at least one of them would be parking near the restaurant to make sure your so called date went well, they may be overprotective and overbearing, but you wouldn’t change them for the world.
lando might though…
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strang3lov3 · 11 months
Text
Everyday I'm Shufflin'
Joel Miller x Fem Reader
Summary: Joel is shocked, horrified, disgusted, and absolutely appalled to learn you, an adult, cannot shuffle a deck of cards. He makes it his mission to teach you in a rather unconventional way 😈🔥😍 
Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smutttt, kind of soft dom! Joel (y’all know the fuckin drill, but this is like the softest soft dom), oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, undefined age gap, unprotected PIV sex, Joel is a sweetie honestly, loosely proofread bc I was so excited to get it out to you guys.
Word Count: 6k (oops)
A/N: Dumb title I know…but listen. I know I’m touching on this particular theme/idea of card shuffling in my story Sweetest Perfection (which I’m unsure of when I will finish lol) but omg ladies…I was playing Gin Rummy with my man a few nights ago and he tried to teach me how to shuffle a deck of cards. I have never been so turned on watching him do something so simple. His hands were so skillful, his voice was so smooth and comforting. So thank you J ❤️ I love you!! (If he ever finds my writing I will drive off a fucking cliff) 
if you enjoy this story, please leave me a comment! I am super proud of this story!
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How you learned to shuffle a deck of cards was rather…unorthodox. To say the least. 
It started with a game of Gin Rummy. 
Joel read once long ago that when shuffling a deck of cards, it is statistically more than likely that the particular order of shuffled cards never existed before and will never exist again. 
Joel had played enough games of Solitaire by himself and shuffled enough cards over the past twenty-odd years that he was sure he beat that statistic. What else is there to do when you’re bored as shit in the apocalypse?
It was safe to say Joel was more than sick of Solitaire. So one morning at breakfast, he invited you to join him for a few games of cards. Nothin’ fancy, he said. 
You said yes, of course. Joel Miller was distant, reserved. Standoffish, even. But he seemed to have a soft spot for you.
He noticed you sitting alone at dinner about a year and a half ago. He was alone too, Ellie usually ate with Dina. She was too cool for him, he guessed. You looked quite a few years younger than him and looked bored and lonely, nudging and poking at the food on your plate. It made him feel sad. 
The next day, you were alone again. And the day after. And the day after that. On day five when he found you sitting alone, he decided to make his move. Instead of going to his usual spot at the end of the banquet tables, he sat across from you. 
You looked at him with your eyebrows raised in confusion. “Can I help you?”
He didn’t think it through. He had no idea what to say, no idea how to make conversation. How to explain why he was sitting there.  “I just, uh. My juvenile delinquent ditched me. Just wanted some company. I’m sorry, this was dumb,” his voice was gruff and low as he reached for his plate and began to stand up. “I’ll leave ya alone.”
“No, no. Stay,” you corrected yourself. “I didn’t mean to come off rude or anything, you just surprised me. Joel, right? Tommy’s brother?”
He nodded yes. You gave him your name and held out your hand. “Nice to meet you, Joel,”
“You as well, darlin’,” he took your hand in his and gave it a firm shake. His hand was warm and calloused.
And that’s how it started. You hit it off completely. Conversation was slow and awkward at first, but eventually it began to flow naturally. Joel was older, but the type of person you could talk to for hours. Like when you talk about your favorite food or movie and hours later you’re laughing about something random and obscure, and you wonder to yourself how you even ended up on that subject. You met for breakfast and dinner every day. 
“So I’ve got a proposal for you, darlin’,” he said, taking a bite of his buttered toast. 
“Pray tell, Mr. Miller!” you requested, a curious tone in your voice. 
“I’m sick of solitaire. Been playin’ it every damn day for too long now. Come over for cards tonight?”
You paused, pressing your lips in a thin line. Card games weren’t really your thing. You remember Tommy and Maria and how they tried to teach you euchre a while back. It didn’t end well, you left with a migraine and no understanding of how to play euchre. But there were a few games you enjoyed. “Depends. It’s not euchre, is it?”
“Nope. That’s four players, sweetheart,” he informed. 
“Poker? Because I don’t know that one either,”
Joel rolled his eyes. He’d have to teach you that one sometime. “No, not poker,” he chuckled when you let out a sigh of relief. “Tell you what, we’ll do any game you want. I’m just sick of playin’ with myself,'' Joel balked, then winced at his poor word choice. He absolutely did not mean to say that. 
Your eyes widened in amusement at his silly word mishap. Now that must be a sight for sore eyes, Joel playing with himself. You tried to push the image out of your mind, but it was nearly impossible. You spent many nights with your hand between your thighs, picturing Joel naked and moaning on top of you. Or under you. Or behind you. Sometimes all three. The truth was, you needed Joel badly. Like, desperately. “Tired of playing with yourself, huh?” you teased with a smile and a playful glint in your eyes.
Joel pouted, the slightest tint of rosiness blooming on his cheeks. You idiot, he scolded himself silently. “Shut up, smartass. Are you comin’ over or not?”
“Duh. Ellie gonna be there?” 
“Probably not. It’ll be just us, most likely. Is that alright?”
“Yeah, of course,” you smiled. Finally, real alone time with Joel. Maybe tonight you could make your move. You hoped that Joel thought about you too. You caught his lingering stares, picked up on his cautious flirting. He could be so sweet and so charming, it had to be because he liked you too, right? But he was from Texas, so maybe it was just his southern gentlemanliness. Either way, it was worth a shot. 
“Let’s meet here for dinner like usual, and then we can go over to my place. That work?”
You smiled and nodded, trying to keep cool. Excitement was bubbling in the pit of your stomach. 
“Then it’s a date,” 
A date!!
After breakfast, you went home and spent most of the day picking out a cute outfit for the evening. You went through nearly every piece of clothing in your possession, eventually settling for your favorite pair of jeans, a tank top, and a zip up hoodie. Casual.
Dinner came and went as normal. Joel was dressed as his usual self. A dark red flannel and some jeans that hugged his ass a little too nicely. You shared a good conversation, and when you finished eating, Joel took your dishes away and then met you at the door. 
You walked side by side until you got to his home. It was cozy and inviting, Ellie’s drawings displayed prominently on the walls. Little tchotchkes and knick knacks here and there. A few old pictures, old books and magazines. His weathered deck of Bicycle playing cards sat in the middle of the dining room table. 
Joel pulled out a seat for you and brought you a glass of water. He sat right next to you on the other side of the table. “So,” he started, reaching for the deck. He split the cards in two, braced his fingers along their sides and ran his thumbs from bottom to top. The cards fell in a swift and staggering motion. Effortlessly, he brought the cards up and bent them into an arch, letting them fall. “What card game we playin?”
“I was thinking we could play Gin Rummy?” you asked sweetly.
“Good choice,” he replied. He had some other games in mind, but couldn’t say no to your request. Joel dealt the cards expertly, quickly placing ten cards each in front of yourselves. The thwap thwap thwap of the cards hitting the table was such a pleasant noise. You loved how skillfully he moved his hands. 
You brought your cards to yourself, doing your best to sort them into different groups. Unfortunately, Joel gave you the shittiest hand he possibly could have. This would be a swift game, you assumed. Joel snickered when he sorted his cards. By the looks of it, he already had the beginnings of a few good sets and melds. “Gonna kick your ass, darlin’,”
You grumbled in response. Joel flipped the first card up, motioning for you to make your choice. You couldn’t do much with it, so you passed. Joel took it, then discarded one of his own. You were right. The game went by quickly. Within minutes of playing, Joel showed you his hand. He had, in fact, kicked your ass. He was smiling and giggling and bragging, almost how a child would. You loved the way his eyes sparkled and the crinkles that framed them just so. He was too handsome for his own good.
He took your cards and placed them neatly in with the rest of the deck, then placed the deck in front of you. “Your turn to deal. We’re playin’ again,”
“Good. It’s about time I deal. You gave me the crappiest hand you possibly could’ve!” you laughed.
“Yeah, yeah. I purposely gave you a shitty hand because I need to rig the game in order to win. Or maybe I’m just better than you,” he taunted with a smile. He could be such a sarcastic prick at times. You rolled your eyes in response and Joel pointed to the cards. “Deal for me now, sweetheart.” 
This is when all hell broke loose. 
You took the cards in your hand, doing an awkward shuffle. Moving some cards sporadically here and there and mixing them on the table. It wasn’t the prettiest way to shuffle cards, but it worked. Right?
No, not right. Not according to Joel. 
His jaw dropped, eyes squinted and his brow furrowed. He is completely and utterly appalled. Disgusted. Horrified. Offended. “What the fuck is the matter with you? What are you doing to my cards?!”
You stopped your actions. “What?” you asked worriedly.
“My cards! That’s how you’re shufflin’ them? Is this some kind of joke?” his southern accent intensified with his anger.
You looked down at his cards. None were bent or damaged in any way. “Joel, it’s fine,” you chided. “You’re so dramatic.”
“No, it is not fine. You mean to tell me this is how you shuffle cards?”
“Yeah, so?” Joel scoffed. “Unacceptable,” he takes the cards from you, huffing and puffing as he sorts them into a neat stack. “You’re an adult. Do it the right way.”
You give it your best shot. Trying to picture the way he shuffled, you mimic his finger placement and drop the cards, sliding your thumbs along the top edges. They don’t stagger nicely, however. They kind of plop on top of each other in groups. 
Joel sighs in disappointment. He takes them from you in a sharp motion. “Give me those,” he grumbles. “You don’t know how to shuffle?” You shake your head no. “Gonna teach you, then.”
He splits the deck in two, then faces the cards so they’re mirroring each other, just like before. “Like this, darlin’,” he starts. “You place your pinkie, middle, and ring fingers at the far end. Pointer is bent at the knuckle on top, thumbs at the close end,” He shows you his hand placement, turning the cards so you can see all angles. “See?”
Joel is rambling about hand placement and how to move your thumbs. But you can’t help it. You’re practically salivating watching him move his fingers so skillfully. As he’s explaining how to slide your thumbs slowly up the cards, you’re picturing his thumb on your hot center, slowly sliding up your folds. 
“You try now,” he sets the deck down in front of you. 
Shit. You can’t remember a thing about what he told you. He helps you move your fingers properly and you freeze, your brain is short circuiting. His fingers are pure electricity on top of yours. 
You take a breath and try again. Somehow, it’s worse than before. 
“No, like this,” Joel takes the cards and begins rambling about the cards again. Now you’re watching his middle three fingers, wondering how they would feel inside you. How would they stretch you, how would they move? He’s so fucking good at this. It turns you on. 
Joel says something, but you don’t answer. He looks at you, noticing your glazed eyes. You’re on another planet. “Are you even listening to me?” “What?” he breaks your trance. You meet his eyes, his eyebrows are raised and he looks rather irritated with you. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry,” you smile sheepishly.
“What’d I say?”
“You said,” you begin, trailing off when you can’t think of a good lie. He caught you, you weren’t listening at all. You couldn’t repeat a single one of his instructions.
“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Joel’s words are bitter and he feels upset. He thought this would be a nice way to spend some alone time with you, and you couldn’t give less of a shit about tonight. It’s jarring, he didn’t expect this from you and it stings him. 
“No! Of course not, Joel. I’m sorry,” Oops. Probably shouldn’t have been fantasizing about what his fingers could do to you. Rookie mistake, that’s the first rule of learning to shuffle a deck of cards! Never fantasize about your teacher’s fingers! 
“Then what is it?”
You hem and haw, rattling off whatever you can think of to answer him. He’s not satisfied and you can see it. His brow is flat and he wears a frown of disappointment.  
“Quit lyin’. If you’re bored, just say so. Won’t hurt my feelings,” Lies. Joel’s heart is crumbling at the thought of you being bored of game night. He’d actually been planning on inviting you for a while, and finally gathered the courage today. 
 “I’m having fun with you,” you stammer for a second, “I promise.”
“Yeah. Seems like it,”
You groan and bury your head in your hands. There’s no way out of this. You have to tell him what’s really going on. “Fine, Joel. You want the truth?”
“Yes, I do. Enlighten me,” he deadpans. 
“Fine,” you inhale and close your eyes, mentally preparing for the humiliation you’re about to inflict upon yourself. “Your fingers. Your hands. The way you move, the way you’re so good at this. It’s sexy, okay? I can’t fucking focus.”
Joel’s in disbelief that he heard you correctly. When the words finally register, a smirk curls up on his lips. He feels a little guilty for accusing you of not caring. But then again, he never would have thought shuffling cards would be a turn on for a woman. Poor thing, he thinks. You’re not bored, you’re just hot and bothered. It’s no wonder you can’t focus. “You think I’m sexy?”
You stare at the cards, avoiding his stare. God, this is embarrassing. “Yeah, of course,”
“Of course, huh?” he taunts you with a shit eating grin. “My fingers are gettin’ you all worked up, is that right?”
You finally build the courage to look up. There’s no animosity or malice in his gaze, just amusement. Your confidence is beginning to return. “That’s right,” you reply with a whisper. 
“Wow. My fingers gettin’ you all hot and bothered and I’ve never even touched you,” he teases. “That’s what’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours? You’re thinkin’ about me touchin’ you?”
You nod. “How could I not? I always do,”
“Oh darlin’, how you flatter me,” He pauses, thinking. Joel gets a twisted idea then, and places the cards in front of you. “Tell you what, sweet thing. You shuffle those cards real nice for me, I’ll use my fingers on you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes Joel, please,” you rasp out. You took the scenic route to get there, but the night is finally headed in the direction you had hoped for. 
Joel makes it look so easy. Just focus a little harder, and you’ll do it. You split the deck in two, mirror the cards, place your fingers properly, and–
Plop plop. Plop. 
The deck splits in large chunks with a few single cards falling near the end. You exhale in frustration.
“Come on now, sweetheart. You want me to touch you, right?” Joel’s wearing a twisted smirk, so smug and cocky. “What’re you screwin’ around for?”
Joel loves teasing his partners, he loves building up tension so palpable that it could be sliced with a knife. 
You glare at him. You’ll show him. It can’t be that fucking hard to shuffle a damn deck of cards. You repeat the shuffling motion, failing again.
You grunt at the deck of cards, wishing you could make them burst into flames. You try again, and fail. Yet again. 
You try again. Fail.
And again. Fail.
And again. Fail. 
Focusing is becoming increasingly difficult with the throbbing growing stronger at the apex of your thighs. 
You huff indignantly, slamming the cards on the table. “Fuck this,”
“Hey, now. If you’d’ve just listened to me you’d get it right by now,” Joel steps out of his chair and hovers behind you, then motions for you to begin again. He places his hands over yours, separating them a little. “Hands are too close together, darlin’. That’s why the cards aren’t falling right. Now try.”
You steady your breath, focusing on the cards. You slide your thumbs up the edges slowly and watch the cards stagger perfectly. The pitter patter of each card hitting the other is the most beautiful and relieving sound you’ve ever heard. You gasp, amazed that you finally did it. 
Joel opens his mouth to praise you, but you interrupt him by practically leaping out of your chair and into his arms. Without thinking, you grab his face and press your lips to his, kissing him hard and fast. Your lips slide sloppily against his and your teeth click together every so often. 
Your hands leave his face and furiously unbutton your jeans and you grab his hand, shoving it down the front of your pants. You moan when his fingers reach your center. 
Joel’s instinct is to tease you some more, but you’ve done that to yourself enough already. It’s evident by the river flowing between your thighs. You gasp when drags his middle and ring fingers up and down your seam. 
“You poor thing,” he whispers into your lips. “Fuckin’ needed this, hm?”
You don’t answer him, you can’t. You just whimper into his mouth. His strong nose presses against your cheek and his lips are soft against yours. His calloused fingers paint steady circles against your clit and his other arm is around your waist, holding you tightly against him. He can feel your knees beginning to buckle and he relishes in the way you’re unraveling, just for him. 
He parts from you and removes his hand from your pussy. You let out a cry of frustration at the loss. “I know, darlin’,” he sympathizes.
 He sits on his chair and pulls you close to him by your hips, then tugs your jeans down your thighs. He motions for you to take them off the rest of the way and then guides you to sit in his lap, your back flush against his chest. He pushes his hand down the front of your panties and returns it to your pussy, circling your clit once more before pushing two fingers inside your wet heat, curling upwards and hitting the spot that makes your thighs tremble. His hot breath tickles your ear and sends a shiver down your spine. “Did so good, baby. So good for me,” 
A strangled moan gets caught in your throat. His fingers feel incredible, stretching you out and pressing into you. 
He loves the wet squelching sound of your pussy, he loves the way your head is resting on his shoulder, your lips pressing into his neck as you whimper sweet nothings into his skin. His other arm is wrapped tight around your body and he squeezes your breasts in his big hand, pinching and twisting your pebbled nipples. “God, you don’t take much at all do you? So sensitive, just for me,”
His cock is hard beneath you, poking through his jeans and into your back. He desperately wants to be touched, wants to take this further and fuck you hard and deep. But not yet. 
“Joel, I want more now,” you whine, feeling heat deep in the pit of your stomach. 
“You want to come now, sweetheart? Come all over my fingers?” he nudges your thighs farther apart and you open up deeper for him. He removes his hand from your breasts and trails it down your body, beginning gentle circles on your clit while the fingers on his other hand continue curling into you. 
“Please,” you cry. You’re so noisy, he’s thankful you’re screaming into his bad ear. 
“‘Course, baby. You can let go. It’s okay,” he coos. If only you could see his devilish smirk and know what twisted idea he’s conjuring up in his head. 
With his permission, you let yourself go. Your face and chest flush and your muscles squeeze around his fingers erratically. “Fuck, fuck, Joel,” you moan.  Joel continues his work on your pussy as you ride out your high. It’s a delicate orgasm, soft and gentle. It feels wonderful, but you need more. 
With shallow breaths, you compose yourself and turn to face him. You press kisses to his lips and his jaw and down his throat. Then, on your knees, you reach for his belt buckle. 
“What d'ya think you’re doin’, sweetheart?” he questioned you, his voice taunting and playful. He grabs your hands and holds them tightly to stop you. 
“What do you mean? I’m going down on you,��� you reply, baffled by his question. “Then we’re gonna fuck.”
“Ah, ah,” he tuts. “No we’re not.”
“We’re not?”
“No. I never said I’d fuck you. I told you I’d use my fingers on you,” Of course, he knew you thought this would go farther. But Joel revels in teasing a woman, making her beg and cry for him before finally giving in. 
You scoff in disdain. “But I wanted more,” you complain. 
“I know you did, baby. If you want my cock, you have to work for it. You didn’t shuffle the cards right,” he tells you plainly, as if it was so obvious. “Shuffle the cards right and I’ll fuck you.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Yes, I did. You watched me,”
“I did watch you, and you didn’t do it right. Have to finish with the bridge fall, sweetheart. Or else you’ll bend my cards and I’ll be real upset with you,” he explains, feigning sympathy for you. “I’d have to punish you. And you really don’t want that, baby. So why don’t you be a good girl now, shuffle those cards the right way so I can fuck you real nice, just how you wanted.” his voice is dark and low and serious, you love the gravelly rumble coming from deep in his chest. “Do that for me?”
You love the threat. One day you’ll have to bend his cards, just to see what he’d do to you. But you have bigger concerns at the present moment. 
You take a step back to your seat and sit, the cold wood of your chair is refreshing on the hot and sweaty skin of your thighs. You grab the deck, separate it, and take a deep breath in and let it out. You move your hands apart just a touch, just as Joel instructed earlier. And you let the cards fall into place. 
With your hands now holding the shuffled cards, you try your best to maneuver them into falling into place. It doesn’t go as planned, the cards flop backwards and scatter all over the table. 
Joel bites back a smile, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Havin’ trouble?”
“No. I can do it,” 
You try again. Split the deck, run your thumbs up the edge of the cards and–
The cards fall in chunky groups, not quite the elegant shuffle Joel was looking for. Oops. Fucked that one up. Not to worry, you’ll just try again. 
This time you shuffle correctly, attempt the bridge fall once more and fail. Again. You hear the clink of Joel’s belt buckle fall and watch him unzip his pants and pull out his cock. It’s hard and the tip is blushed as he begins to stroke himself. “Better get it together, darlin’. I’m gettin’ tired of waiting on you,” 
You glare at him silently. 
You steady yourself and try again. And fail. Fucking again. Joel lets out a low whistle and spits into his hand, then brings it to his cock again. His fist is moving up and down his shaft and he shrugs at you, as if to say ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Can’t help it’. This is a delightfully unique change of pace, he thinks. He’s not doing a thing to work you up, your pleasure and release is all dependent on yourself alone.
Alright. Once more, this time with feeling. 
Fail.
You try and try and try again, failing each time. Your fingers are exhausted and your palms are sweaty, causing you to slip up. And Joel’s sitting there, playing with his cock and not saying a thing. You’re so beyond irritated, completely tired of this torturous bullshit. Tears of frustration well in your eyes and spill out and down your cheeks. This is fucking agonizing. You ignore your tears, hoping that if you don’t acknowledge them Joel won’t either. You try again. Nothing. You let out a cry in dissatisfaction.
“I know, baby. You’re tryin’ so hard,” Joel whispered earnestly. You just let out a dry laugh. “You are,” he continued. “Take a deep breath, focus for me. You got it.”
You shuffle the cards, set up the arch. “Easy, now. Lift up one thumb, let the cards fall. You can do it, baby,”
You do as you’re told, lifting up your left thumb slowly. You can’t believe your eyes as you watch the spill neatly into each other. Fucking finally.
You drop the cards and let them scatter slightly on the table. In a rush, you leap to Joel and drop to your knees, not even caring about the way the hard floor makes your knees ache. You swat his hand away from his cock and part your lips over the tip, feeling him slide past your tongue and down your throat. 
In your fantasies, you’d tease him with your tongue a little. Make him want you, need you. But not here, not now. You’re hungry for his cock and want to waste no time with him. You savor the way his cock feels so smooth and soft in your mouth, the slightly salty flavor of his skin. It’s all so…Joel. 
Even Joel was surprised by how eager you were. He gasped when you took him into his mouth, but quickly relaxed as you began your pace. You gripped his denim clad thigh in one hand and brought the other to the base of his length, twisting and pumping it as you bobbed your head. You hummed and moaned against him. 
“Wow, darlin’. Someone’s excited,” he mumbles. 
You look at him with big doe eyes and offer a wink in response. Joel lets you continue for a while more. He loves how enthusiastic you are, sucking and stroking him like it’s all you’ve ever wanted to do. It brings him close to the edge. 
He taps your cheek a couple times, encouraging you to hop off of him. Your lips are puffy and red, spit dribbling down your chin. He grabs you by your arms and shoves you against the table, then pushes the cards out of the way. You watch and giggle as they clatter on the ground in a big mess. He was so protective of those same cards before, so offended at how you touched them. Now they sat in disarray on the ground. “Your cards,” you breathed with concern. 
“Don’t care,” he mumbled, pulling your panties down your thighs and pushing your back onto the table. He knelt before you and draped your legs over his shoulders, loving the way they weighed him down. “Let me taste you, please,” he rasped out. You nodded hurriedly. Joel wasted no time, hungrily licking and kissing your folds. He lapped at you, pressed his tongue flat against your center and dragged it over your sensitive skin. He loved how you tasted, how you made a mess of his mustache and his beard. He pointed his tongue and flicked at your clit as he brought two fingers to your core, scissoring and twisting and stretching you out. 
It felt amazing, so intense and pleasurable. But you had been waiting so long for his cock already and it’s all you could think about. You pushed Joel away from your body and tore off the rest of your clothes as he followed suit. He looked gorgeous, tan skin and oh so smooth. He wasn’t very hairy, you noticed. Just a tuft of coarse hair at the base of his cock and a little happy trail leading down to it. His muscles were soft and lightly defined, you loved the little swell of his tummy. “You’re beautiful,” you whispered. “Need you to fuck me now.”
Joel cocked his head slightly at your compliment. No one had ever called him beautiful before. You were such a genuinely lovely person. He smiled sweetly at you before kissing you, closing the gap between your nude bodies. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, baby. Wish I told you earlier,” he purred. “I’ll fuck you now. You did so good, baby. So proud of you.”
With that, Joel lined his hard cock up to your soaked entrance and pushed inside. Slowly, being sure not to go too hard or too fast. He watched your face, the way your eyes fell shut and your mouth dropped open. He stopped once he was about halfway inside of you. “How am I doin’, darlin’?”
“Please fuck me,” you begged. You appreciated his gentle care, how he wanted to make sure you were comfortable. You’d expect nothing less than the illustrious southern gentleman. But you’ve been waiting long enough with the prospect of being fucked by Joel Miller. Fuck sweet lovings, you needed to be fucked. To be used, like a toy. “Now.” you demanded.
It’s all the permission Joel needed. He slammed his hips into yours and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, gripping his tight muscles. Your hands wandered down his back and settled on his ass. You squeezed the soft flesh beneath your fingers and let out moan after moan. 
Joel loved how vocal you were. Telling him what you needed, how you needed it. He loved the pretty noises you made, all for him. No one else. Not anymore, at least. You were his now and would be forever. 
“Fuck, Joel,” you panted between breaths. “Feels so good.” Joel’s head dipped down to your chest and he kissed and nipped at the soft skin of your breasts, tonguing your nipples and loving how you shuddered at his touch. “Good, baby,” he said. “You deserve it.”
You did deserve it, after all. He made you work like a fucking dog for it. 
Joel fucked you at a steady pace, comfortable for both of you. He asked you what felt good, what you needed. How he could make it better. “Tell me what I can do, sweetheart,”
There were no improvements to be made. Everything about Joel was second to none, his cock, the way he moved, the way he held you. He fucked you perfectly, just how you needed. “Nothing, just,” you squinted your eyes shut and searched your brain for words, finding it difficult to piece any together. “Just keep fucking me like this. Maybe a little harder, please.”
Joel was a provider. A lady as beautiful as yourself, asking for more? It’d be a sin to deprive you of what you needed. So Joel obliged, picking up the pace and hitting you deeper. “Just like that, Jesus, fuck. Just like that, baby.”
Baby. Joel loved that term of endearment. He wasn’t used to being called any sweet nicknames, usually he was the one who’d dole them out. Not just to anyone, only to those closest to himself. It’s why he called you ‘sweetheart’ and ‘darling’ so often. 
He liked being the object of your affection. “Keep callin’ me that, please,” he requested, his voice shy and low. He was so tough and domineering just moments ago, and now he was bashful and vulnerable, all because of one little word. Baby. 
“Fuck, baby. You feel so good. Wanted this for so long,” you whimpered, holding onto him tightly. You’d abandon his name completely and call him ‘baby’ for the rest of your lives, if he asked you to. 
“God, sweetheart. Me too,” he grunted. 
Joel couldn’t last much longer. He let out groans and strangled out moans as his pace became sloppy. “Let me make you come,” he begged. He wriggled his hand between your bodies, placing his thumb on your clit. He held a firm pressure to the sensitive bud and moved it in concise circles, pushing you closer and closer to your release. 
You let out a throaty moan as you felt your climax begin to bubble up inside you. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you pleaded. “I’m right there.”
Joel just kept doing what he was doing. Circles on your clit and fucking you deep, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you. Your moans turned frantic and you cried out his name, over and over again, like a prayer. Your orgasm was much more intense than the last one, it sent electricity all through your body. You felt tingles and sparks wash over you, from your scalp all through your fingertips, down all the way to your toes. It was the best orgasm any lover of yours had ever blessed you with. 
Joel felt your body shudder around him, felt your pussy convulse and squeeze his cock. His thrusts became harder, faster, and frenzied as he chased his own climax. You watched his eyes screw shut and little drops of sweat fall down his temples as he let out a deep moan. His cock pulsed inside you, painting you with his hot seed. 
He let out a laugh then, between panting breaths. He pulled you in for a hug, his skin hot and slick with sweat. Head pressed to his heaving chest, you could feel his heartbeat in your ear. Your new favorite feeling. 
Joel pulled away from you, kissed you sweetly and helped you clean up. You pulled on your clothes and sat neatly at the table, picking up and sorting out the disheveled cards. Joel did the same, he bent down next to you and gathered the cards on the ground. 
He placed them in front of you, left for a second with your empty glasses, and returned with the glasses of water refilled before sitting in his seat again. How you didn’t knock them over during your fucking, you had no idea.
“Alright, baby. Show me how you shuffle now,” he grinned at you. He wanted to make sure his unorthodox method of teaching you actually worked. 
You smiled back, split the deck in two and mirrored them for the nth time that evening,  and then placed your fingers along the two decks. You slid your thumbs up the cards, watched one fall on top of the other, and brought the cards back up into a nice arch. With a breath, you let off one thumb and let the cards fall down slowly. You sighed in relief. Your maneuver wasn’t quite as smooth as Joel’s, but there was plenty of time to practice. 
You dealt out ten cards each, gathered your hand and did your best to hide a smirk. You held a three, four, and six of clubs, three kings, and two jacks. 
Joel sighs disappointedly at his hand. You couldn’t have dealt him worse cards. Nothing went with anything. 
The two of you exchanged cards quietly, as if you didn’t just desecrate Joel’s dining room table. It was quite funny, really.
The game was quick, just like before. You placed your sets and melds in front of him. “Read it and weep,” you jeer.
Joel grumbles something about cheating and steals your cards. “Rematch,” he says. “Loser gives the winner head.”
“Deal,”
Tags: @swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @venusdemonroe @guiltgoldglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @jazzy-music-cat @anoverhwhelmingdin @dontatmethebeasts @venus122idkpleaze
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tommydarlings · 11 months
Text
Pretty when you cry | c.l
pairing: mean!dom!charles x sub!gasly!reader
warnings: smut, taking virginity, cnc, gagging with fingers, gagging with a thong, chocking, dacryphilia, slapping, slight overstimulation, dumbification -> extended version!! (3.9k)
w/c: 2.5k
summary: After desperately trying to find your brother at a very noisy club, you surprisingly land in the arms of his best friend Charles, and you surprisingly land bend over his kitchen counter while he takes your virginity in a very mean and rough way.
song suggestion: Pretty when you cry by Lana del rey
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The music was almost hurting your ears as you slowly tried to squeeze your way through the wild crowd, pulling your arms to your chest that was perfectly hugged by the thin, red dress that you’ve bought yourself not to long ago.
You sighed as you weren’t able to see your brother anywhere even though he told you that he’d stay by your side… most of the time.
Worked out great, didn’t it?
But who were you to blame — you should have known better than that. Obviously your brother, Pierre would be celebrating with his friends and drink until dawn breaks out instead of watching if his little sister and making sure that she’s having fun.
Oh, you were having sooooo much fun trying to find your older brother and telling him that you’ll go home now since you're… tired.
But after multiple hopeless minutes of trying to find Pierre, you gave up and just decided to take seat at the bar, ordering a harmless glass of water.
Suddenly a young but rather crusty and drunk man sat himself down, right next to you even though every other seat was still available. Could this night get any better?
“Well hello, gorgeous,” he slurred his words, obviously being under the influence of too much alcohol as he came a bit closer to you, making you sliding your body a few centimetres away from him,
“I am not-”
“Shut the fuck up and let the man speak, are we clear?” He interrupted you as his palm touched your bare skin on your back, fingers gliding along your shivering figure. You never felt that kind of fear before.
“Don’t be scared-”
“I am not int-”
“Shut the hell up bitch! God! You are really something else, aren’t you little one?” The stranger yelled at you in a loud tone before his fingers went further down, making tears fill up your eyes.
After swallowing at least a tiny part of your fear down, you swiftly stood up, “I said that I am not interested.”
He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “And I said that you should shut the fuck up and let the man talk, you-”
“Excuse me?” Someone interrupted the stranger who was still touching your back. As soon as you turned around, you were quite suprised to see your brother's best friend, Charles, standing with a dark and almost possessive gaze right behind you.
You gulped as you looked up at Charles, “C-Charles, I-”
But before you could say anything, Charles grabbed the stranger by his wrist and removed his palm from your body, harshly throwing it away before he got a hold of his collar and slammed his against his seat.
“Touch her again, and I’ll make sure that you ain’t got no hands to touch her with anymore, am I clear?” Charles spoke up with pure rage in his voice, quickly letting go of the young, disgusting man before he looked down at your slightly paralysed figure.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asked you as soon as the young man left, hand now gently touching your arm, thumb drawing circles onto your skin.
You slowly nodded, “I-I am-” but you couldn’t get the words out, you just started crying and before you knew it, you stood up and fell into your brother's best friend's arms, tightly hugging him as he put his chin on top of your head and shushed you.
“Shh,” he whispered as his palms caressed your back, “It’s okay now, I am here, alright?” Charles asked you as he looked down at you, wiping your tears away before he gave you a quick and short peck onto the top of your head.
You briefly wiped one last tear away before you lifted your head and looked up at Charles, “I w-want to go home b-but I can’t find my b-brother.” Quickly looking around the big, noisy room again to see if you maybe see him now but no chance, Pierre was nowhere in sight.
Charles briefly scanned the room as well before he brushed a strand of hair out of your face and answered,
“I can take you home if you want to, sweetheart,” Charles whispered in your ear while his hands didn’t leave your still shaking body, you nodded before your eyes widened.
“What’s wrong, love?”
“Pierre has my keys! I can’t go home without him!” You nervously told your brother's best friend.
Maybe you’ve imagined it, but you could swear on your older brother that Charles’s eyes briefly darkened as he looked down at you, hands leaving your body as he got his car keys with one hand, and his phone with the other.
You gulped and shook those thoughts away before you leaned forward and glanced at his phone where he’s typing something, other hand playing with his Ferrari car key.
“What are you doing, Charles?” You mumbled. He briefly looked at you, eyes still kind of darker than before,
“I’m texting your brother that I’ve found you and that I’ll take you home with me, okay?” Quickly putting his finger through the big chain that’s attached to his car key before he swiftly took your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours.
You were just able nod as the monaguesque leaded the two of your out of the loud club, hand tightly grabbing yours since he really didn’t wanna lose you in that big crowd.
Even through the two of you are not dating, Charles always had a special place in your heart that the other friends of your brother didn’t had. Since today you’re not sure which kind of place that is but you always just brushed the feeling away that you’ve got as soon as Charles looked into your eyes or touched you since you were the little sister of his best friend.
And something like that could never end well, right?
“Thank you,” you quietly thanked him in a hush tone as he opened the passenger door for you, closing it behind you before he went over to the drivers seat, immediately starting the engine, making it roar so loud that most of the people that stood outside turned their heads and looked in your direction.
You just gave the a small, polite smile before Charles already took off and drove you to his home.
- - -
“I’ve actually never seen your house before,” you said as you entered Charles's million dollar mansion in Monaco, feeling his big palm on your back as he leaded you the way towards his living room.
Charles hand left you right before he sat himself down onto one of the big sofas in the modern room, you took a seat at the other one right at the opposite of him.
After taking a deep breath, you leaned down and desperately tried to removed your black high heels, but you felt so exhausted that you just sighed and leaned back again, not even trying.
“Should I help you?” Charles asked you in a quiet but deep tone, already getting on his knee in front of you.
You just nodded, muttering a quiet 'thank you' before his fingertips touched your ankle, slowly gliding them down to the hard fabric before he gently opened your heel and removed it from your tired feet, putting it down right next to him.
Then his hands went to your other leg, fingertips touching your knee now, briefly looking up at you. With slightly widened eyes, you looked down at him, hands gripping onto the couch as his soft fingers glided down your leg until he reached the dark heel.
After a few seconds, he was also able to remove your other heel but this time he bend his body downwards and kissed the spot right above foot, just briefly pecking it but it made you blush like a little school girl that just received her very first kiss.
“Thank you Charles, for everything tonight,” you mumbled as he set the other heel next to the first one down, putting your foot down again, looking up at your sitting figure
“No need to thank me mon chéri,” he answered in a hush tone.
You bit your lip as you looked up at him after he stood up, your heels in his hands as he carries then to the front door, gently setting them down before he turned his body around and look at you.
“I am sorry that you guys have to go through stuff like that almost everyday,” Charles started talking about the man in the club, making your ears peek up, “Men are disgusting, no arguments there, that’s for sure.” The monaguesque told you while you nodded along,
“They r-really are, yeah,” you quietly answered as you crossed your legs and leaned your body backwards, eyes not leaving his slightly darker ones.
“I mean,” you started again, “I guess that I don’t know a lot about men or at least their… sexual behaviour since I’ve never been touched by one but they are definitely… disgusting, nasty, ugly, pricks.”
Suddenly, Charles stood a bit straighter, slowly taking baby steps towards your figure on the sofa.
“What do you mean that you’ve never been touched by a man before, sweetheart?” You briefly blushed at the infamous nickname before you spoke up,
“Well, I-I am a Virgin, so-”
And Charles quietly laughed. Only very, very quietly and softly but you were definitely able to hear it, no doubts.
“You-, You’re a virgin?” Charles asked as he stood almost right in front of you, forcing you to look up at your brother's best friend.
You nodded, “yeah, I j-just don’t want to waste it, you know?” You gulped as he stood right in front of you, hands in the pocket of his dark slacks as he looked down into your big eyes looking at him.
“Yeah, I understand,” he mumbled in a deep tone, eyes now visibly darker… for some reason that you couldn’t catch onto.
Then, after starring at each other eyes for a couple of seconds, Charles removed one of his hand from his pocket and put it on your check, thumb gliding along your bottom lip as his lips turned into a very tiny smirk.
You furrowed your brows as you looked up at the Ferrari driver, thumb now softly and slowly caressing your bottom lip. And then he tapped onto your lip, silently asking you to open your mouth and suck on his thumb.
And to your surprise, you did as you were told and opened your mouth and sucked on his thumb.
“I knew it,” Charles muttered as you furrowed your brows again, not knowing what he meant by that.
“I fuckin' knew that you were not the pretty little innocent girl that’s just Pierre’s little sister and nothing more,” he whispered in a deep tone, “Your doing so good for me, ma chérie.”
You took his thumb a bit deeper into your mouth while he opened his pants, removing his belt before he freed himself.
And oh my god, was that fucking big.
He chuckled in a deep tone as he saw how your eyes widened, thumb leaving your greedy mouth, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit,” slowly leaning forward so that his mouth was hovering above your ear, “I’ll make it fit in every single hole of yours,” he told you, making you gulp before he brushed some hair out of your face.
“Stick your tongue out, baby,” Charles demanded in a rather soft tone. He got a hold of his big cock and slapped the tip of it onto your wet tongue, repeatedly doing so while you kept your hat on his one.
“That’s my good girl,” he muttered deeply as he shoved his dick down your throat, at first very slowly but then going a bit faster as he noticed your want for it.
“Fucking shit,” he groaned loudly, “if your brother would only know what I am doing with you now and what I am gonna do with you after you’re down with sucking my cock, then I would be dead.” He stated as his breathing pattern got more uneven, feeling his orgasm approaching him while you gagged around his cock.
“O-Oh my god, just l-like that!” He groaned deeply as he got a hold of the back of your head, forcing your mouth even further down his cock while he looked down at you.
You continued gagging on his cock as he shoved him further down your throat, making tears shoot into your eyes, Charles was only able to growl as he noticed that.
He removed your head from his cock and slapped his leaking tip onto your sticked out tongue, smirking while doing so, “if your b-brother should ever p-provoke before, during or after a r-race, I am gonna record you in that e-exact state and send it t-to him, I swear I-I do that.”
You gasped and quickly closed your mouth, in the meanwhile — Charles took your hand and leaded it to his erection, forcing you to jerk him off, “Please d-don’t do that c-charles, Pierre would kill b-both of u-us.” You answered quietly.
He chuckled at your reaction, one hand on your wrist as he guided your hand that was currently jerking him off while the other hand held your chin, thumb playing with your now slightly cum covered lip.
“We'll see… it depends.” He mumbled.
You tilted your head to the side but charles didn’t liked that, immediately turning your head again and pushing your face slightly forward.
“Depends on what?” You asked him innocently, hand not stopping the movements on his cock.
“Depends on how good of a good girl you are for me tonight, you understand?”
You slowly nodded, gulping at his demanding tone. Charles smiled in a wicked way, “Good.”
Then, he gently took your hand and removed it from his cock, tightly gripping your upper arm and pulling your body up, leading you in a quick and careless way towards the kitchen counter, swiftly bending you over it.
“C-Charles, what are you d-”
But your sentence was cut off by his big palm slapping over your mouth, suddenly feeling his closer to your body.
He got a hold of your thong, dragging it down your legs.
You expected him to put it down onto the counter next to you, or maybe dropping it onto the floor but that wasn’t the case, no — he tied the thin, white material around your mouth, not making it unable for you to speak but also not making it able for you to speak properly.
You gulped, or at least desperately tried to do so, as Charles made sure that the white piece of clothing is tightly tied around your mouth, feeling how he exposed your ass, dick gliding along your wet entrance now.
And once again, you gasped at the feeling, especially since you were feeling it for the first time.
“Do you trust me, mon amour?” Charles whispered in your ear from behind while the tears didn’t stop.
You refused to answer for a few seconds but then you mumbled through your thong,
“Yes.”
He quietly sighed, “Bad idea.”
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honeygrahambitch · 2 months
Text
"Hannibal." Bedelia's voice comes from the phone.
"I am here as well." Will says as he taps the "speaker" button on the screen of Hannibal's phone.
"Such a blessing." She says after a deep sigh.
"How are you doing?" Hannibal asks and Will audibly whispers "Do we have to make small talk?"
"I have to agree with his remark. Get straight to the point." Bedelia replies.
"Lizzie has been asking for a hair straightener for a few weeks now and we bought her one."
"...Who is Lizzie?"
"Our daughter?" Will answers feeling insulted.
"I feel like I should ask how that happened but I am happier when I am not involved in your... homoerotic saga."
Hannibal tries his hardest not to laugh while Will wants to grab the phone to hang up.
"Anyway, as I was saying, we got her a hair straightener."
"Sorry, how old is she?"
"Seven."
"Did you get a seven year old a hair straightener?"
"Please forgive us for not asking for your advice first." Will says sarcastically and is pleased only when he hears another sigh from Bedelia.
"Neither of you had a fulfilling childhood. It is logical that you ended up being this type of parents."
"What type of parents?" Hannibal asks curious about Bedelia's opinion while Will was silently counting in order to compose himself.
"Am I right if I assume you can't say "no" to your kid?"
Silence.
"That's what I believed as well." Bedelia goes on satisfied with her guess.
"Wait. When did I talk to you about my childhood?" Will asks.
"You didn't. You ended up being a serial killer married to a man who is ten years older than you. That tells me everything."
"Why did we have to call her?"
"Because this is important. We are not sure how to use the hair straightener."
"No, Hannibal had a shock when he noticed that the oven and the straightener have the same temperature levels." Will explained.
"Wouldn't that ruin her hair?"
"And that brings us to my previous question. Why did you get a seven year old something like that?"
"Because if she wants straight hair then she should get straight hair." Hannibal replies confidently.
Bedelia's reply comes quickly. "If she couldn't have straight parents then she should at least have straight hair, right?"
"Bedelia." Will started. "We know where you live. And last time I checked one of your legs was still in perfect condition."
"Don't mind Will, now, say, will it burn her hair?"
"I imagine the amount that you spent on it has at least 4 digits."
"Absolutely."
"It will be alright. Don't use the highest settings but other than that, that's how all straighteners work. I will assume yours is very high quality."
"It is. Cause we are good parents." Will added as he grabbed himself a beer from the fridge.
"Sure."
"Thank you for... picking up the phone." Hannibal said politely. "Would you like to come over for dinner?"
Beep. Beep. Beep.
She hanged up.
"What a bitch." Will commented as he left the kitchen.
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wolken-himmel · 1 year
Text
9k Followers Special
In which Crewel and Crowley somehow manage to destroy the time-space continuum and end up with dozens of mysterious children to care for.
Little do they know that these are (Y/n)'s children from various timelines where she married different NRC students.
Idea by @tickledpink31.
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"By the Great Seven, why are there so many children here?!"
Just as Crewel had set a foot into the headmaster's office, he was immediately overwhelmed by the sudden noise of high-pitched wails and children's screams. A barrage of small children had taken over the office, some running around happily while others destroyed the furniture and knocked over vases. There were more than twenty small children, and the oldest couldn't have been much older than seven years. For a while, Crewel merely remained at the entrance and gaped at the crowd of children.
The papers he had intended to deliver to the headmaster sailed out of his hands and fell to the floor. There was pure chaos going on, and his paper spill had exacerbated the issue even more.
It took the headmaster a while to notice his visitor. He had been busy wrangling his poor top hat away from an especially mischievous fae child. After a little while, the headmaster succeeded and managed to put the mangled hat back on his head. Only then did he give his attention to his colleague by the door frame. "O-Oh, Divus! Come right in! Just make sure to shut the door—" the headmaster announced hastily. "Rook Jr is quite the stealthy one..."
Just then, a blond boy tried to zoom past Crewel, but he managed to grab him by his collar and raise him into the air just in time. The professor eyed the rambunctious boy quizzically. "Rook Jr? Is that you?"
The boy let out a sheepish giggle and even gave him a clumsy salute. Somehow, he seemed unbothered by the way he was held into the air. "Aye, monsieur! Maman loved to call me that as well— But my name is actually Philippe. I am the proud protector of my siblings!" he announced proudly and raised his nose upwards.
"Oi, stupid Philippe, as if you were responsible enough to protect Jaques and Laure!" The female voice came from below the professor, and he indeed found a young girl — she shared similar features with Philippe — tugging at his expensive coat. "I, Noelïe, am the protector of the Hunt family!" she corrected and saluted much more properly.
After Crewel had made sure that the door was locked properly behind him, he lowered Philippe to the floor again and removed his grasp from his collar. Without wasting another second, an enraged Philippe stormed over to Noelïe, and they began brawling on the floor.
"Oh my, quarreling siblings..." Crewel watched helplessly as they rolled away.
"Well," Crowley trailed off sheepishly, "at least Umbra and Solis get along better..." His finger pointed to a pair of twins by the other end of the room. Each of the siblings, a boy and a girl, possessed the strange feature of winding, black horns — and not to forget, pointed ears. They wore expensive gowns in the shades of green and black, befit of royals.
"Look, Umbra!" the boy cried out and held out a picture frame to his sister. "I found this floating portrait of the grand witch that Grandpa Lilia always talks about!"
"Oh my, let's show him! I'm sure he has more stories to tell!" Without another word, Umbra had taken the frame out of her brother's hand and was now on the move to another corner of the room. It looked like they really were searching for something with how they lifted up the sofa with their magic, only to lower it to the floor again when they only found dust and cobwebs.
"Where did all these children come from, Dire?"
"I don't know!" Crowley exclaimed and threw his hands into the air. "The heavens must have seen my boredom and blessed me with these adorable bundles of joy—"
"Wait," Crewel interrupted and inspected his boss more closely, "your coat is missing a few feathers—" Indeed, there were gaping holes here and there.
A pained sigh escaped the headmaster's lips as he pointed to a girl with lion ears. She sat on his desk chair and was happily munching away on dozens of black crow feathers. "Ah... yes... the little lioness over there likes them. Ouch, who knew that such ferocity could be hidden behind such an adorable face..." The headmaster buried his face in his gloved hands and began mourning for his poor, tattered gown.
When Crewel turned his gaze to the desk chair again, he realised that it was empty. Instead, he soon found a weight clinging to his left leg. "Sir, do you want to play with me? Play with me, please! Let's play hunting, okay?" A look downwards revealed that the little lion-girl was smiling up at him toothily. "I'll give you a head start, and then you run away as fast as you can? I'll chase you once the time's up! I promise I'm really good at it! My cousin Cheka says I'm the fastest predator he knows, even faster than my daddy!"
"Oh my, what might your name be?" Crewel asked in amusement and ruffled her hair.
"Aria! The fiercest lioness in the entire Afterglow Savannah!" she exclaimed proudly and drummed her hands against her chest, like a seasoned warrior. "No one can scare me! Not even my mommy when she yells at me to eat my vegetables."
The corners of the professor's lips quirked up into an amused smile. "Adorable."
His remark drew a little hiss from her lips, accompanied by an offended scowl. "I'm not adorable! Rawr!" she yelled out, although her roar was more similar to a cute mewl. When she realised that she hadn't intimidated him, she crossed her arms and stalked away to her friends, also beast-children. "Dandelion, you're the fastest hyena I know! Cereus, you're the strongest wolf I know! Come play hunting with me!"
The hyena-girl let out a little snicker before she darted away with nimble feet. "Shishishi, you'll never catch me, princess!" Then, she disappeared within the crowd of other children, never to be seen again.
"I'll show you two how to roar properly after this!" the wolf-boy teased before he also made his grand escape. Without an issue, he lunged over a tall bookshelf and disappeared behind it.
Now that he was free again, Crewel turned his pressing gaze to his boss again and put his hands on his hips. "Alright, Dire, so where did these children really come from? And don't you dare tell me that the stork delivered them to you."
"I don't know." Crowley merely shrugged. "They appeared after I accidentally destroyed the time-space continuum."
"You what—" Crewel spluttered out in horror.
The headmaster raised his hands into the air and shot his colleague the most calming smile he could muster. "I swear, I didn't mean to! It was all just an unfortunate accident... But you know, a wise man once said that there were no mistakes, only happy accidents! And can you believe it? Now we're surrounded by adorable, little children—" The happy grin on his lips disappeared, and he soon rushed over to a duo of children by the window. "Wait, Anemone! Don't bite your cousin like that!"
Anemone let out a low growl and bared her sharp teeth at the boy next to her. "But Nemo took my toy without asking!" she wailed when the culprit wouldn't pay her any attention. With unmatched vigour, she shook her head left and right, causing the mop of blue hair on her head to become a wild mane.
Nemo merely let out a little giggle and held the toy out to her. "I just wanted to show you a cool trick, Anemone!" he said happily and opened up the golden shell toy to reveal a glistening pearl. "Here, look!"
An awe-struck look appeared on Anemone's face, and she immediately ceased her crying.
"Wow—" Another child appeared by the cousins' side, a confident girl that wore a thick pair of black glasses. As she looked at the toy in fascination, she pushed her glasses up and let a sure smile appear on her lips. "That really is cool, but I know another trick! I can show you, if you want to!"
"Really? Ursula, show us!" Nemo cried out.
Anemone nodded along eagerly and held the toy out to the silver-haired girl. "Hurry up, Ursula!"
"I see what you mean with adorable now, Dire," the professor began and chuckled to himself. Yet, his moment of appreciation was short-lived when he turned to the headmaster to find him being mauled by the lion-girl Aria again. "But still, what are we supposed to do with all these children? Have you found a way to send them back home yet?"
"No, and I've tried really, really hard, believe me," Crowley began after the vicious predator had tired of him playing dead. He rose from the floor and dusted his tattered coat off, a giant smile on his lips. "But why send them back when I can just open a nursery with them? Just imagine, Divus! Night Raven Nursery? How does that sounds? I, for once, love it!"
"Have you gone entirely mad? We can barely handle the older students, as is, with all these overblots going on—" Crewel cried out in disbelief. "And you want to have small, helpless children nearby?"
"They can protect themselves, no?" Crowley rolled his eyes and pointed to a group of children by his coffee table. "Tell him, Rose!" The headmaster beckoned the girl over, and she at once appeared by his side.
The red-haired girl grabbed the alchemy professor by his hand and led him over to the coffee table, which was full with steaming tea-cups and cookies. She let out a little giggle before she took her seat again. "Grandpa Divvy! You're finally here— Do you want to join our tea party?" The girl patted the empty seat next to her. "My daddy always throws tea parties, as well— with all of his friends! But oh well, mine are so much more fun than his! Who wants to follow all these strange rules about how to drink your tea? You can drink your tea however you want to at my parties! If you want to add salt instead of sugar, go for it!"
The boy with orange hair, seated next to her, let out a hum of agreement. "I love salty tea! Way better than sugary sweet..." he exclaimed while pushing strands of hair out of his face. A satisfied sigh escaped his lips, and he gave a peace-sign to the baffled professor.
"Don't mind Anthony and his strange tastes... He got it from his father," a girl at the table said and let out a little giggle. Without wasting any time, she had skilfully poured tea into an empty cup and now held it out to the professor. She urged him to take it when he wouldn't, otherwise. "Here, have some tea, mister! I would usually hand you some cake to go along with it, but Grandpa Crow said that he doesn't have any."
Finally, Crewel took the cup and dared a little sip. "And who might you be?" he asked when she handed him a cookie and some sugar cubes for his tea.
"I'm Madeleine! Mommy always says I'm as sweet as madeleines, hehe. And Daddy always says my eyes are the same colour as perfectly baked madeleines." Her eyes shone proudly as she took another sip from her tea. "You should come by our bakery someday, Grandpa Divvy! It's been a long while since you've visited us. There's tons of new cakes on our menu that Daddy wants you to try!"
"Grandpa Divvy?" he repeated the nickname in confusion. "How peculiar..."
The professor was ripped out of his thoughts when the sound of crying reached his ears. He turned his gaze to the sobbing boy who had sought refuge in the soothing arms of Madeleine. A motherly look flashed across her face as she cradled the weeping boy in her arms. "Oh my, Bernard... why are you crying?" she asked and stroked his soft hair.
"Eris is being mean to me again!" he yelled out and pointed to another red-haired girl at the table.
"Really?" Madeleine asked softly. "What did she say?"
"She told me that I would never become a magical enforcement officer like my father!"
Eris rolled her eyes at the accusation and threw her velvety hair over her shoulder. "I didn't say it like that, you idiot," she grumbled under her breath. "I only said that it's very hard to become one! So you need to work a lot and give it your all!"
Bernard's face hardened in determination, and he finally stopped crying. "Well, I will work hard!"
A look of relief flashed across Madeleine's face, and she removed her arms from around the young boy with bright blue eyes. "See? Now you two troublemakers play nicely with each other," she cooed and nudged him towards Eris again, who welcomed him with a playful punch to his shoulder. The sight caused Madeleine to shake her head in amusement. "Oh my, even worse than my own siblings..."
Now that the children were busy playing tea party again, Crewel was allowed to return to the only other adult in the room. "Hm... Dire?" he called out when he found his colleague to be busy handling a large group of children.
Crowley was being climbed on by an endless amount of children. They were giggling and laughing as they were put to the floor again, only to resume their climbing fun. "Yes? Pardon me, I was busy dealing with all these Al-Asim children... There's a bunch of them! They are never-ending!" Crowley let out a little wail when one of the younger siblings began fiddling with his mask. "At least little Zahra is there to calm them down when things get a little bit too hectic."
All the children began rejoicing at once. "Zahra is our bestest friend!" they cried out together and rushed over to the older girl nearby.
She welcomed them with open arms and hugged them all in what seemed like an overwhelming group-hug. A genuinely happy smile decorated her face as she exclaimed, "Aww, I love you guys, too! Everyone of you: Malik, Fatima, Aamira, Ibrahim—"
"See? Never-ending," Crowley remarked, chuckling under his breath. Then, he turned away from the children and focused his entire attention on his colleague. "Now, what is it you needed from me, Divus?"
"Have you noticed the way all of these children address us as their grandfathers? Isn't that peculiar?"
"Well, there is a simple explanation for that—"
"Grandpa Divvy? H-Have you seen my mommy? I... I really miss her!" a little girl with flaming blue hair interjected. Tears stung in the corners of her eyes as she extended her arms out to him, wishing to he picked up. The professor reluctantly did so and cradled her in his arms when she began sniffing. "She wanted to read me some bed time stories— my favourite, even! Do you know the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice? Can you read it to me?"
"I'm sorry, but I don't know where your mother could be," Crewel muttered and tilted his head at her. "But now, on closer look... You really do look like (Y/n)."
At that, Crowley broke out into a loud bout of laughter. "Haven't you noticed yet, Divus? All of them look like (Y/n)!" By then, he was wiping the tears from his eyes. "And each of them also shares traits with some other students here at Night Raven College. Do you see that tall boy over there? I swear I've seen someone with blond hair and purple tips around campus before..."
The boy he spoke of stood next to a much smaller girl. A little pout graced her lips as she handed him a hair tie and pointed to her lavender-shade locks. "Konrad... Can you braid my hair, please? The braids opened up when I helped my daddy on the farm earlier..." she muttered and clasped her hands together adorably.
"Of course, Daisy." The blond boy smiled softly and urged her to turn around. With the utmost of care, he ran his fingers through her messy hair and unwinded even the most stubborn knots. "Would you like a French braid, or a fishtail braid... or perhaps we could try out a pull-through braid?"
"Oh— I'd like a French braid! My mommy isn't all that good at braiding, sadly. But she always tries her best!" An enthusiastic grin graced her lips as Konrad went to work with skilful and nimble fingers. After a while, an adorable snort escaped her lips, and she added, "But you should see my daddy try to braid my hair... He is always so impatient and gives up within a minute."
Konrad and Daisy broke out into a fit of giggles.
"Well, I love braiding hair! I wish I could braid my dad's hair, but he's always so busy with his job..." Konrad muttered under his breath and exhaled softly. "At least Mom always allows me to braid her hair, even if hers isn't as glossy and smooth as Dad's—"
The two were interrupted by a boy having snuck up on them and yelling, "Boo!" A grin appeared on his lips when the two children began screaming. The fear on their lips soon transformed into utter frustration, especially once they realised that the half-done braid had opened up again. The mischievous boy merely shot them a large grin, his sharp front teeth sticking out. He also possessed pointy ears and shaggy black hair, where little tufts of hair stuck out on each side. "Did I scare you?"
The headmaster let out an exasperated sigh and scolded, "Ciaran, don't go scaring others like that! People might start crying or—"
He was interrupted by a slap, its echo bouncing around in the office. Surprised, he realised that sweet and adorable Daisy had marched up to Ciaran and had whacked him over the head angrily. "Oi, take that, you stupid fae!" she yelled and began growling like a feral dog.
A series of whimpers escaped Ciaran's trembling lips. "Ouch..." He held his head in pain and watched in shock as Daisy marched back to Konrad, smiling innocently as if nothing had happened. Konrad patted her on the shoulder before beginning to braid her hair anew.
"—or they might take revenge... and then you'll start crying..." Crowley finished and shook his head in disbelief.
At once, a gentle human girl appeared by the side of the wounded fae child. She tucked her silver-coloured hair behind her ears before she soothingly whispered, "Hey, don't cry... Where does it hurt?" Her voice was as soft as expected, probably even able to lull the wildest of beasts to sleep.
Ciaran let out a series of sniffles. "She hit me here, Chimere..." He pointed to the red mark on his forehead.
Chimere smiled gently and took his hand into hers. "You don't need to cry... Adam and I are here for you," she cooed, and at her command, a green-haired boy with slightly pointed ears appeared by her side.
A confident grin appeared on Adam's face as he yelled out, "Yes! Don't cry!" The volume of his voice was so loud that he managed to outyell every other child in the office. He gave Ciaran's hand an empathetic squeeze. "It will go away!"
"Now my ears hurt..." Ciaran complained, yet smiled at his two friends.
Crewel, who had been in deep thought until now, let out a drawn-out sigh after having analysed the faces of the last three children. "You're right, Dire... They all look like (Y/n)..." he admitted woefully and cast his gaze at the ground. "You say that you destroyed the space-time continuum, right? Could that mean that these are various timelines where (Y/n)—"
"—married a different student here at Night Raven College and had children? Yes, absolutely! That's the only logical explanation," Crowley finished while picking up a tired Aria into his lap.
"Ah... I hate it here..." Crewel huffed in disappointment. "To think that my adopted darling child would marry one of these dirty street dogs..."
Crowley, however, waved him off and began laughing happily instead. "Hey, don't be so pessimistic, Divus! I love it here..." A blissful sigh escaped his lips when Aria had finally fallen asleep in his lap, softly breathing and cuddling up against his destroyed jacket. "Lots of grandchildren for me, (Y/n)'s other adoptive dad. And who else would be better at playing babysitter than me? Oh, this is simply paradise..."
"Excuse me?" it came from outside the office. "Headmaster Crowley, are you in there?"
Crowley froze in fear. "O-Oh— don't come in, please. I'm very busy right now!" he cried out nervously.
"It's me, (Y/n). It's an emergency! Grim climbed onto a tree and doesn't know how to get dowm now!" In your desperation, you had pushed the door open and marched inside, initially not even noticing the many children. You rushed over to the headmaster and clasped your hands together. "Please, he's been crying for the last hour already... and nothing we've tried so far works—" It was only when a child curiously tugged at your blazer that you realised how the room was filled to the brim with children. By then, they were all silently staring at you in awe.
"Uh... You must be wondering why there are so many children here..." Crowley trailed off and shot you a sheepish smile.
"Yes, indeed." You furrowed your eyebrows when all the children began flocking to your side. "Where did these guys come from?"
Crewel rubbed his temples in exhaustion. "Well, it's a long story—"
He was interrupted by a sudden return of the screaming and wailing from earlier, now tenfold worse. In a united chorus, all the children yelled out, "Mommy! Mommy!" Small and chubby hands were grabbing you wherever they could, even toppling you over and sending you falling to the floor.
"I missed you, Mommy!" someone screamed from your left.
From your right, someone yelled, "Mommy, can we finally go home now?"
The masses around you blurred into one big mess. "Help!" you cried out as you were hugged and squeezed by more children than you could count.
"Oh no," Crewel muttered, furrowing his eyebrows. "We have to help (Y/n), Dire!"
However, Crowley merely shook his head woefully. "I don't think we can, Divus. It would be impossible to tear a child from their mother— even more so when its dozens of little brats." The worried frown on his face soon turned into a enormous smile, and another heavenly sigh escaped his lips. By then, his eyes were basically the shape of hearts as he stared at the children in delight. "Well, what a grand opportunity to have met all of my lovely grandchildren! I should destroy the time-space continuum more often."
Crewel rolled his eyes. "Please don't..."
The screaming and yelling soon became unanimous — and you could somehow discern them yelling, "Mommy, I love you!"
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