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#what more could he ask for that he's already been blessed with
volpe-kitsune-red · 2 days
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A taste of you~
Lynx Andromeda (Yandere OC) x reader
tw. general yandere behavior, possessive behavior, reader is a bit socially awkward, alcohol, vampires, blood-drinking, slightly suggestive content
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Someone in your college had organized a huge party and invited every student to join; you didn't know the guy but Lynx did. Your best friend knew practically more than half of the people who attended the school and reassured you that the man had a huge mansion and a pool in his backyard, meaning it wouldn't feel too crowded even if everyone showed up. But that wasn't your concern, this was going to be the biggest party you had been to and the fullest of strangers. You weren't exactly scared of people but not a social butterfly either so you couldn't help but feel nervous about how the night was gonna go. "Nervous? Oh come on love, I'll be right by your side the whooole time. If you feel overwhelmed I'll just make an excuse to take you away...somewhere private hehe~" You were used to her teasing and yet it still made a slight blush tint your cheeks. Of course, she was just joking, however, the way her eyes pierced into yours every time she said things like that was making you question her true intentions...and your feelings for her.
Lynx had insisted on wearing matching outfits, and you both decided (after a long debate) on black colors paired with something made of red leather. When she came to pick you up you saw that she had put on a black top with a short red leather skirt, she looked amazing and you were quick to let her know. "And you are outrageously stunning, I might have to keep a closer eye on you tonight or someone might steal you away from me~" You laughed in response "Aww stop it, you're making it sound like we're together or something!" "Hmm..not yet..." The rest of the ride was filled with you two casually catching up on what you did that day, she always avoided talking about her life at home so she resorted to telling you about a fun music series she found called 'Alien Stage', excitedly forcing you to listen to some of the songs.
You arrived an hour late to the party. It was already packed with people, not as many as you expected, but the night was still young so many others were yet to show up. You and Lynx began looking for your friends. It was hard to move more than 5 steps at a time, not because there was no space to do so, but because people kept approaching your friend to start some small talk or invite her to join them in whatever activity they were doing. Finally, you spotted the group of your mutual friends and joined them. Everything was going better than expected, you were having fun, and Lynx helped you shake off a couple of drunk men who were making you feel uncomfortable.
At some point in the night, one of your friends asked you if you could go grab him a cup of water. Poor guy had drunk a couple of shots too much so you told him to sit down as you left the group. Lynx was having fun at a karaoke battle with some random woman so you decided not to bother her by asking her to accompany you. You wouldn't want to ruin her night just because you needed some assistance to feel secure at a party. You went up to the bar and asked the man behind it, who was presumably the butler of the house but was doubling as a barista for the night if he could give you a cup of water. When the man turned around to take a cup and fill it, someone tapped you on the shoulder. You turned around and the woman behind you smiled. "Hi there sugar... my eyes have been wandering towards you the whole night, I have been waiting for the best moment to approach such a cutie, mind blessing me with a little company?" She gently took your hand and you were too stunned to react as she pressed her lips on the back of your palm. You blushed, a bit embarrassed by her boldness. She was undeniably a gorgeous woman, tall, with tan skin, white hair, and a cleanly styled wolf cut...but you had to go back to your friend. "I'm flattered, really. But I need to go back to my friend, he's not feeling well so I was supposed to bring him a cup of water." The woman appeared amused. "You're talking about Ron, right? He's fine, he's also a friend of mine, I asked him if he could do me a favor by securing me a minute alone with you." You thought Ron was such a traitor for selling you off to a stranger, just like that, without a warning even. But you would confront your friend and his behavior another time. Maybe it was the alcohol or the fact that it's been years since your last romantic interaction, but you had decided to give this random woman a shot. She was hot and had gone through all that trouble just to approach you, so why not, right?
You two sat on the bar stools and started chatting, she wasn't too bad, she was charming and a great listener. At one point she put a hand on your tight and leaned closer to you. You weren't sure if she was about to kiss you or whisper something in your ear, and you would never find out because before she could do anything a person forced themselves between you two, forcing her to retreat and put her hand away. It was Lynx, you couldn't see her face because she had her back turned toward you, and as soon as she turned around, her expression was blank. "Love, please come with me, immediately. I have something to tell you." You looked at her confused but she was serious, so you nodded, stood up, and tried to excuse yourself to your new acquaintance but Lynx interlocked her arm with yours and started pulling you away with her. Concerned and irritated by whatever was going on, you followed her silently into a quiet, empty room of the mansion and closed the door behind you. "Lynx can you explain what is going-" You weren't given the chance to finish the sentence as Lynx gently but swiftly pressed you against the wall, wrapped her arms around your waist, and smashed her lips against yours. You were shocked, incredibly confused...and her lips were soft, and her body was pressed against yours, making your mind and body feel fuzzy.
Her kiss lasted a couple of seconds, maybe three before her lips parted with yours. "I can't believe it, I take my eye off of you and you go wandering off to someone else, maybe I should put a leash on you so this won't happen again." What the hell was she saying? "L-Lynx, you're my best friend, we aren't a couple or anything... I asked you to look out for me tonight to help me out in case something was going wrong, that doesn't mean you can just tear me away from anyone I'm talking to without checking to see what's really going on! That woman wasn't-" "Do not mention her, she doesn't deserve to be on your mind, let alone your body. I saw how she was touching you, she wanted to steal you away- away from ME!" Her dark pupils started to swirl into a glowing red color, it was clear she was struggling to keep her voice steady. When she noticed the fearful stare you were giving her, the red disappeared and her features visibly relaxed. She raised one of her hands to put it on your cheek, her sweet tone masking her true emotions. "It's ok darling, I'll make sure something like this will never happen again. You know that I love you right? That I would never harm you?" You felt that your answer wasn't really needed but you replied either way, putting your hand on hers. "Yes Lynx, I know you love me. We've known each other since we were little kids and you've never done anything that hurt me. But what does this all mean? Y-you...uh, kissed me just now, are you trying to tell me something?" Her gaze softened. "My love, you are just too cute, it's just so hard to resist eating you up right away..." She buried her head in the crook of your neck. "...to sink my teeth into you and taste you." At this point, you were as red as a tomato. Did she just confess her feelings to you? If she did, that was definitely a weird way to word it. But then you felt something sharp poke at your neck. You look down to see your best friend's open mouth hovering over your skin. Two long sharp teeth sticking out, threatening to pierce into you at any moment. "...Lynx. What is this...what are you doing?" Her arm wrapped itself tighter around your waist while the hand on your cheek moved around the back of your head to steadily hold it in place. "I'm sorry dear but you left me with no choice...and you are just so irresistible." Your whole body stiffened at the realization of what was about to happen, you tried to wriggle away but it was too late. A sharp pain shot into your neck, blood started pouring out and you refused to watch as she proceeded to suck and drink it all.
You screamed but the party outside the door was too loud to hear you, your shouts of pain and your pleads were lost amongst the laughter and singing of the people outside. Eventually, you felt yourself going weak, and your vision faded to black.
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astridthevalkyrie · 1 month
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feeling like you’re 12 when you’re 22 is genuinely such a humiliating experience.
#my dad and mom have been on my case ab asking for permission before I go places and it makes me kinda sick#seeing everyone around me make plans or whatever and then being like ‘I’ll have to ask 🥺 👉🏽👈🏽#’#and my dad’s a liar he’s like it’s not like we ever say no#except my mother does and so does he???#even the muslim girls I am friends with have more freedom and you know what’s amazing ab this is#they can’t stop me from going to school. they don’t pay for that#they can’t take my car. they don’t pay for that#my mom can stop making food for me and I will manage just fine#they wanna kick me out???? blessing in disguise#but it’s hilarious that as an adult i’m still paying for everything I use but I still have to ask permission genuinely fuck off#my parents when I have to stay late on campus for some school event: 😒#the way I’d be making money rn if they didn’t decide to come and stalk me at work and see me without my hijaab on#and that one’s on me I could choose to just work with it on and make them happy#but I literally can’t as a matter of principle#i’m given such little pride as it is and if I say I don’t want to work with a hijaab on that’s that#i got an internship two days ago for the summer and you can bet your ass I’m not wearing my hijaab#except it’s not paid#and as much as I have guilt spending I really don’t spend a lot and it makes me so angry#i know that your 20s isn’t your whole life and people shouldn’t think that if they waste their 20s their life is up#but it’s like#my teens were already so shitty and abusive and trapped#how much longer do I have to deal w this before i’m treated like an adult#trick question! it’s only until a man can own me bc then he can make my decisions instead of them <3
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cherry-leclerc · 2 months
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wait for you ☆ cl16
genre: fluff, humor, tiny bit of smut, established relationship 
word count: 1.8k
An eager Charles tries to convince you to take part in an adorable video to show off your relationship for the first time, but it only lands you two in a clumsy mess. 
nsfw warning under the cut! 
18+…mainly just charles being a tit addict lol, oh and a bit of dry humping ahhah 
req!…quickie, but enjoy :) ps. we love a man who understandssss
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“Come on! Don’t be like that.”
It takes all of you to not roll your eyes at your needy boyfriend. He was excited to be back to racing after such a long time and this was just pure adrenaline, if you can even call it that. He had brought it up a few nights ago over dinner.
It’s been a year. Actually scratch that. A year and five months. Which is basically two if you stop and think about it.
Humming, you nod with less enthusiasm as he dangles his phone right in front of you, displaying cheesy couple videos. 
We can recreate it, people will know, and people will love you. Easy peasy.
But there was nothing easy about any of this. It had stayed a secret for so long for a reason - a perfectly reasonable reason. While you knew the good would most likely outweigh the bad, that didn’t make it less nerve wrecking.
With a heavy sigh, you roll off of his lap, chewing on your bottom lip. “I’m not sure, Charles. You know how I feel about all this. Plus, don’t you like knowing it's just you and me who know about us?” You signal between the two of you, eyebrows wiggling suggestively as he gulps.
“I do love having you to myself…”
“So it’s settled. Not yet.”
The next time he brings it up is when you’re out on a double date with George and Carmen, seeing as they spend a good amount of time here in Monaco. Could be nice, he says, blankly taking a lick from his vanilla ice cream. Would make me happy, y’know…
“I feel like I have to ask,” the Brit mumbles curiously. “Trouble in sex-paradise?”
Choking with surprise, you hurriedly shake your head as Carmen pinches her boyfriend's thigh. He yelps, scooting closer to the Monegasque who continues to pout. Rubbing your temples, you say, “Don’t pay him any attention, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
“Amore, it would be perfect!” Angling his head to the couple, he retreats his phone, already showing off the video. “Wouldn’t it be cute to announce our relationship like that?” Before they have a chance to answer, he nods happily, as if they’ve given him the biggest blessing. “It would, I know it would.”
“Reckon it’s a bit much,” George says while Carmen winces in agreement. Charles’ green eyes flicker to where you bite back a grin, writhing to let loose.
“You guys…”
Carmen pats his hand gently over the table. “Charles, just try and put yourself in her shoes. She’s worried. We’ve all been. Being in the public eye is extremely terrifying. Maybe she’s not ready-”
“Or she’s not that into you.”
The brunette clenches his jaw. “You’re not?”
Giggling, you peck his rosy cheek as he stubbornly gives in, a smile already being drawn onto his lips. “I’m so in love.” Then you turn to the Brit, kicking him sharply underneath the table. “Asshole.”
As he winces in pain, his girlfriend rubs his arm gingerly. “Oh, she’s definitely in love, Charles. But she’s not ready. Just wait on her for a tad bit longer.”
You’re honestly shocked when he doesn’t bring up the topic the time you visit his family, or when you meet up with Pierre and Kika. It was odd, but you didn’t think much of it. 
That is until he has you perched on his lap, greedy mouth wrapped around your sore buds. Large hands come in to grip your breasts, squeezing them closer to his face as he groans. You shiver when the cool air hits your wet skin. He smiles wickedly when you start rubbing yourself against his thigh, whimpers entering the room.
“You sound so sweet…”
You grip his shoulders tighter.
“Doing so good for me, yeah?”
You nod with soft pants and tired eyes.
“Do you love me?”
More than anything.
“Then you’ll do the video with me? You will, won’t you, darling?”
“Yes, yes,” you huff, core growing tighter. “Anything and everything you want.”
You can practically feel his smirk against your chest, but are too far gone to even care.
With one last lustful lick, he scoffs. “That’s my girl.”
-
“Okay, stand still,” he instructs, hands fixing his phone against the wooden chair. There's heavy concentration that lingers adorably as he gently bites down on his bottom lip, that it almost makes you regret how much you were dreading this. Balancing yourself on your tippy toes, you giggle nervously. Green eyes look back at you before pressing a kiss against your temple. “Shouldn’t be too hard. Just stand there and look pretty.”
“Because that’s all I’m good for,” you mumble sourly as he aims a deadpan expression. You know that’s not true. Then he presses the countdown and runs out of the frame, leaving you to stand like a lost puppy, soft eyes looking for their owner. Frowning hard at the camera, you sigh. “I really don’t get it-”
All of a sudden, strong arms wrap around your waist as he carries you in a hurry. You’re squealing loudly and shutting your eyes tightly. It leaves you winded as you slip into a coughing fit. Swiftly, the Monegasque places you back down and cradles your face with worried eyes. “Holy shit, are you okay?”
Pushing him away harshly, you shoot daggers at your boyfriend. “What the hell was that? You nearly killed me!”
The brunette winces. “I didn’t mean to do it that fast…” His shoulder droops with panic when you narrow your sharp eyes, chest heaving with slight anger. “Or that hard.”
You step away, frantic arms shooing him. “I’m out, this is stupid.”
“No, wait!” Following after you, he reaches to grab your hand. “I’ll be gentle this time. Let’s just try again.”
A skeptical scowl paints your face before nodding along. Dimples shine back towards you as he happily leads you back to the large kitchen. Slow, Charles. I mean it. Beaming brightly at the screen, you playfully search for him before you catch a glimpse of your clumsy manchild through your peripheral vision. You foolishly flinch as he makes his way and comes to an unexpected halt. He groans and you wail.
“Why did you stop?”
“Why do you look scared?”
Letting out a dry laugh, you bring your hands to your hips, right leg extending out like a strict teacher. “I was doing my part.”
“If looking scared was what you were going for, then mission accomplished.” He rubs his lids. “Try to pretend that you like me. The whole point is to show people that we’re in love.”
“Am I supposed to act like I like you or all lovey dovey? Which one is it?” you bicker back, hair whipping your cheekbones. He rolls his eyes. Stop acting like that, it’s not cute. “It’s not cute,” you mock as you return to your original spot. “Do not fuck this up, Charles.”
“Fine,” he grunts. Repeating the same actions, this time around he manages to trip over his own two feet, landing with a loud splat. The sound of his skin hitting the marble floor has you rolling with laughter and gasping for air. This is great, you wheeze, eyes crinkled. “It’s because I mopped earlier, remember? One last time.”
The Monegaque readies himself like a quarterback, dark eyes drawn to you like a hungry lion. You almost want to laugh with how serious he’s taking all of this, but somehow hold back. Once again, he makes his way on cue, arms wrapping around you securely and taking you down with him this time. 
Landing with a low umph, he holds onto you tightly, making sure to land on top of him safely as you yelp. Twisting up quickly, you bang a soft fist against his chest. “Dickhead! What are you doi- I’m not a fucking potatoe sack!”
The brunette manages to sit up, immediately going in to rub his head. Black spots blaze over his eyes. “I think I’m blind.” He pants, loopy eyes making a weak attempt to take in your delicate figure. “You still look like an angel, though.”
“That makes absolutely no sense.” You pause. “A-are you okay, baby?”
Brown locks bounce up lightly. With a heavy sigh, you help him up, leading him carefully towards the couch. Sore shoulders relax against the pillows. You bite down nervously on your thumb as you debate calling for help, given as how he hasn’t spoken much after the catastrophe. He hums. “I’m fine. Sit.”
“Oh, good,” you say, releasing out a breath of relief. As soon as he feels a dip next to him, he peeks one eye open, finding you with a pale face. A strong sense of protection takes over as he pushes your hair back, making sure to analyze everything about you. Why are you colorless? Did it hurt? Does anything hurt? We can go to the hospital to get you checked out. Actually, let's go.
He’s already grabbing your hand, flinging you to stand up when you let go. “I said I was okay. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. You took it the hardest, I swear I heard the sound of a coconut crack.” A teasing smile slips onto your berry lips, closed fist gently knocking against his head. “Only making sure.”
“Ha-ha.” Bringing you towards his chest, you nuzzle your face sweetly. “I tripped again-”
“I know,” you giggle, though it comes out slightly muffled, and slightly demonic. But it makes him grin eagerly, hand flying to smack your ass. You jump, feeling his chest vibrate as he chuckles. “This was an utter mess. How about we try again tomorrow?”
“How about we don’t?”
You pull away, hands pressing against his tall frame. “But I thought you wanted to do this…”
“I do, but you’re not ready.” A boyish wince strikes his face. “And I’m not going to force you.” You can’t help the swing your heart goes through with his sweet gesture. He continues. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do this in the first place; I knew you weren’t ready and I still tried. I’m sorry.”
Guilt eats you up with his words. “I swear I want to do this for you. I can try again!” Slithering out of his tight grip, you cluelessly look for his phone. He chuckles at your cute pout of determination. 
“But you’re not ready,” he states for the second time. “I’ll wait for you to be.”
The internet was a scary place - one you dread very much - but it’s true. You would have done this with him, even if you weren’t open to it. But the fact that he understood regardless…
Sheepishly marching your way over to the green eyed boy, you shoot a shy wink. “When I am…I’ll let you know?”
He grins, arms wide open as you find a home between them. “Of course.”
taglist: @myownwritings
*anyone is welcome to lmk and i'll add you along :)
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nathaslosthershit · 2 months
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Teen Dad (OP81)
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(Part 1 of the Blind Item Series) (Part 1 of the Teen Dad OP AU)
Summary: Rumors are flying about a young driver with kids
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Seeing the rumor, and various other tweets commenting on the matter, first thing this morning was like getting a bucket of ice water dumped on him. Oscar immediately sat up, frightening his fiancée who was asleep next to him a moment before.
“What? What's wrong? Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up.
“Fuck this is not good.” He mumbled as he looked through more tweets. He knew he had minutes before his PR team started messaging him on how best to proceed. 
“Osc, you are really scaring me. What is going on?” His fiancée asked again. After 5 years together and two kids, she knew him well enough to know that Oscar isn’t easily woken up. While he usually wakes up early to train or help the kids, on days like today where he has the chance to sleep in, he will usually take it. But the amount of notifications he started getting were enough to get him to check his phone and once he saw the severity of the situation he was awake and alarmed. 
“A blind item about a ‘younger f1 driver with two kids he had as a teen’ just went up. No confirmation on who but it seems they have gotten it down to only a few of us. They don’t know yet but I am sure they will know soon.” 
He was grateful they hadn’t clocked in on him but Oscar was sure with a bit more time to dig people would put two and two together. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he was a teen dad, not anymore at least. When he was even more so an up and coming driver, he kept it hush because he was nervous being 18 with two kids would lead teams to reconsider where his priorities were, his family or his career. That wouldn’t have been crazy of them to do though, as important as racing was to Oscar, he would always pick his family first. Luckily, though, he had a great enough support system so he didn't have to choose. 
Most people in Oscar’s life knew. Any teams apart from Prema, Mclaren, and Alpine were none the wiser but why would they need to know? Not all drivers knew either, some who he had become closer to were let in on the secret, especially Logan, who had been there the entirety of his kids' lives. Annoyingly, at least in Oscar’s opinion, he has been titled ‘the cool uncle’ from day one. 
“What do we do?” his fiancée asked, snapping him out of his spiraling.
“I imagine it is up to my team to figure that one out. I’ll message them now. Get the kids ready and I’ll be done in time to help with breakfast.” He said as he got up.
After a long, pretty impromptu, call, it was decided Oscar would make a statement about it before it was revealed to be him. He wasn’t too happy about not getting to really do it on his own terms but this is the way it worked out, and hey, Oscar would be lying if he said he wasn’t already planning which race he was going to bring his kids to first.
oscarpiastri
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liked by mclaren, logansargeant, landonorris, and 518,294 others
oscarpiastri This is of course not how I wanted to do this. I had hoped to have more time before I had to let the peace of privacy go but these things happen when you are in the spotlight. So yes, I am a father of two great kids and I have been since I was 18. I am not ashamed by the fact I was a teen dad, and am certainly not hiding my kids out of anything but love. I hadn’t realized I could truly love anything or anyone more than racing but then these two came into my life and I realized I would give it all up for them. Luckily, with the support of their mother (who is my fiancée) and my family, I didn’t have to give it up. My four person family means more to me than anything and I count my lucky stars each night that I have been blessed with them. I ask that you please respect our privacy. This isn’t the end of you seeing the Piastri twins but I, being the over protective father I am, am not ready to throw two 3 year olds into the chaos of the motorsport world just yet.
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Part 2: A Much Needed Interview out now!
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madschiavelique · 9 months
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okay so once miguel accidentally flashed his happy trail to his gf, she couldn’t stop thinking about it, constantly staring at his abdomen when she thought miguel didn’t see her (he did 😁). they just recently started dating, she was shy and inexperienced but she is just a human after all 😔 she lasted a week before she came to him looking embarrassed, desperate and defeated “miggy can you teach me how to suck your dick please 🥺👉����👈🏻”
long story short we need some good old dick appreciation 😉
AAAAA THIS IS SO SWEET i love it hehehe
summary : you ask miguel to teach you how to suck his dick (not proofread)
contents warning : SMUT (18+) minors dni, blow job (miguel receiving), lots of praise, miguel is so sweet and patient in this word count : 2,9k
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All it had taken was a casual glance, and your mind was infatuated with the idea. You were spending some time in Miguel's quarters when it happened, when your eyes were blessed by the sight before you.
He'd just got out of the shower, and as he hurriedly pulled on his T-shirt on the way out, his untied jogging bottoms had dropped slightly until your eyes drifted to his stomach and you saw it: his happy trail.
You'd only seen it for a brief moment, Miguel's T-shirt covering it all too shortly after that blessed vision, and his hands properly re-tying the elastic of his jogging bottoms.
But it was enough to occupy your thoughts for days. As he was often dressed in his spider suit, you had very little opportunity to think about seeing it again, other than in its civilian clothes. But that didn't stop you from occasionally glancing down at his belly, and sometimes even lower. The moments when you realised what your eyes were looking for were often followed by a flush in your cheeks and the back of your neck.
It's just that... you didn't necessarily have a great deal of experience in this field, and you were immensely curious. You also wondered if Miguel was holding back. You'd already talked about it, and you wanted to take it slow, because after all you and Miguel hadn't been dating for very long.
But you were getting impatient by the day, so you tried to visit him a little more in his private appartment. Miguel seemed to find this suspicious, but how could you explain to him that your thoughts had been riveted on a single subject for days, and that was his happy trail and what was below it ?
You were trying to convince him to wear civilian clothes more often, using arguments along the lines of "when we're together you don't need to wear the suit, you wear it mainly for work, so when you're with me you don't need to wear it."
And then, you thought maybe giving him a blow job would relax him? He seemed so tense quite often, and you wanted him to feel good, you wanted to make him feel good.
And as the days went by, the questions multiplied. Is it big ? Of course it is, but how big ? Could your hand grab him properly or would you struggle with the width ? How did he taste in your mouth? What sounds would he make when you'd lick him ? How do you even... give a blow job ?
It was when your curiosity became unbearable and your own questions too much for you that one afternoon, while you were sitting in Miguel's apartment and he hadn't yet returned, you asked Lyla:
"Lyla, send me a good article on How To Give A Blow Job, please."
The orange pixel cloud had almost immediately taken off its heart-shaped tinted glasses.
"I beg your pardon?" she asked, eyes wide while her programmed eyelids fluttered as she watched you, "a good article on what?"
"You heard me very right, your system is 100% perfect: I want you to give me a good article on-"
"Yeah yeah i get it i'm just, um, surprised." she admitted, a virtual screen forming in the form of a tablet in her hands as she paused, hesitating and turning to you, "would you perhaps be interested in... different material?"
You raised an eyebrow, taking your computer and resting it on your thighs.
"What material ?"
"Well you know, the material," she replied with a little shrug.
"Huh?" you said, frowning as Lyla raised her eyebrows completely, as if taken aback by your answer.
"Let me just send you a link," she replied, sighing.
Within seconds, you received a link and opened it. It took you to a video that launched instantly. You gasped, immediately pausing and closing your computer. But your eyes had caught it well: two naked people, a woman lying between a man's legs as she took him in her mouth.
You hesitated between finding a way to fry Lyla's motherboard or congratulating her, but in the end you did neither. Any learning ways still brings knowledge somehow, right ?
You took a deep breath, then hesitantly reopened your computer. The page was still open, the video stopped on a scene that could not have been more erotic. Perhaps learning the basics wouldn't be too much?
So you started the video, turning the sound down to almost minimum, and watched. You tried to pay attention to the woman's gestures, how her hands acted, how she angled her head, how she...
"Cariño?"
The speed with which you closed the page and your computer surprised even you as you faced Miguel. Shit, he'd got home earlier than you thought, and you just hoped he hadn't heard too much…
"Oh babe you're home!" you say jovially, trying to act as if nothing had happened, hoping he hadn't noticed. "How was your day?"
He was standing up straight, one of his eyebrows raised. He took a step.
"Were you watching what I think you were watching?"
Shit, he'd definitely noticed. How could you want to escape from a spider on a situation like this with tenfold senses? You bit the inside of your lip nervously, feeling your cheeks heat up. Who knows, though, as long as he hadn't said exactly what he thought you'd seen, you might have a chance of getting out of this... however slim the chances?
"And," you asked as he took another step in your direction, your hands moving your laptop to the side as you turned to face him, cross-legged, "what do you think I was watching?"
He let out a little laugh from his nose, his tongue running over his canine teeth as he moved a little closer to you again.
"Don't play this little game with me." he said simply, your lips pressing into a thin line, "I think you and I both exactly know what was on that screen of yours just a few seconds ago."
You sighed, your shoulders relaxing with the gesture as he approached again, only a metre from the bed.
"Well yes, i was watching... what you think it is." he nodded as he crossed his arms over his vast torso.
"Porn," he affirmed, the word falling easily from his lips.
"Yes," you said with an embarrassed chuckle, "that's the name for it..." you nodded, his eyes watching you, no doubt trying to find out the reason behind this. "But I had my own reasons to do so, of course," you said to clear your throat.
"Which were?" his responses to your sentences were so quick that they seemed to stick to your every word.
You inhaled, straightening up, suddenly determined. The vision of his happy-trail came back into your mind, your eyes inevitably landing on where it must have been under the suit.
"Miguel," your eyes returned to his, "I want you to teach me how to suck your dick, please."
There was silence for a few seconds before Miguel smiled, the smile turning into a small laugh, his amused eyes looking into yours confused.
"So that's what the looks were about?"
You froze, your cheeks heating even more. All those looks you'd been giving him, all directed at his lower stomach and more, he'd noticed. You fancied the idea disappearing down a hole right now, and placed your hands on your face in embarrassment.
"Hey hey," he said softly, coming to kneel in front of you as his two large hands came to rest on yours to move them away from your face. "It's okay, it's just," he caressed your cheek, "took you long enough muñeca, you could've just asked me."
"I know," you said, your hand sliding over his as you pressed your cheek closer, "I'm sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry about," he assured you, "but in the future, whenever you're thinking about something like that, or anything, you have to tell me. Okay ?"
You smile softly, "Okay."
He came over and kissed your lips chastely.
"So," he said, taking your hand in his, "you want to learn how to do this?"
You inhaled, nodding. He came to kiss you again tenderly, coming to sit on the bed and lay down. He pulled you against him as you kissed, his hand coming to rest on your for a second. He stopped the kiss for a moment, tapping his watch gently. You were so happy of finally being able to do this, you couldn't wait anymore.
"Learned anything from the video?" he asked, glancing at you.
You said nothing, just tilted your head slightly to one side as you shrugged on all fours above him.
"We'll see, but be careful with that kind of stuff. A lot of it doesn't really show anything actually pleasant, it's all for show. Alright? Cariño?" he informed, coming to stroke your cheek again as you nodded. "Good."
Then his suit began to depixelate, and your eyes lowered until you finally saw the happy trail again, and what was just below it.
Okay, now there might be a problem you thought, because the dick the girl was sucking in the video, which was hard, just approached the same size as Miguel's... which wasn't hard yet. He was, and will be too big for what you were about to do.
"Everything is alright cariño?" he asked worriedly, "are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes," you replied immediately, perhaps a little too eagerly.
A small smile spread across his lips.
"Good. If you're not sure what to do, I can give you small tips as you go along."
You nodded once more, your eyes dropping to his perfect torso. You lowered your face gently, kissing his skin gently, gradually working your way down to his navel.
He breathed softly, and you felt his skin grow grainy under your kisses. Then you finally reached his body hair, your hand resting on the sheets and gently caressing his hip as you placed soft kisses on his happy trail. A sigh of relief escaped from between his lips. The object of all your desires for a week was finally here, close to your touch.
Then, just a few centimetres lower, you came to face his cock. Your eyes locked with Miguel's for a moment as you kissed his groin, then coming to kiss his shaft running your lips along the base of his it.
You heard him inhale as the fingers of your other hand gently wrapped around him, holding him tenderly as you placed a trail of pecks from the base of his dick to his tip. You placed kitten kisses there as you felt him harden and grow between your fingers and against your lips.
This encouraged you, as you no doubt told yourself that you were doing the right thing for his body to react like that.
"Spit will help you, nena," Miguel murmured, surrendering gently to your touch.
You nodded, sticking your tongue out between your teeth to lick his tip, a low grunt echoing in Miguel's chest as you gathered drool on the sides of your cheeks to run down his length and lick him further. Your hand spread the saliva a little more evenly as you kissed your way down to his balls. Then, placing your whole tongue on his base, you worked your way up his entire length.
"This feels so good muñeca," he breathed, one of his hands gently stroking your hair.
You let a little more drool trickle down, your hand spreading it a little more evenly as you pulled the foreskin back to expose the head, kissing the uncovered pink and licking it gently as Miguel sighed and moaned. You made circular movements with your tongue, your eyes resting on Miguel from time to time.
"There's a spot, just under-"
But no sooner had he started his sentence than you opened your mouth wider and let your tongue slide under his tip, just underneath the crown, like you had seen the woman do.
"Yes, there," Miguel breathed shakily, his eyes closing as his head fell back on the pillow, "right there, just like that."
You let your tongue flick back and forth on that spot, beautiful moans rumbling in Miguel's throat. You readjusted his cock in your hand and then gently took his tip into your mouth, letting your tongue slide underneath him.
He inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling in a long sigh of pleasure. Your mouth was so warm and wet and your tongue was incredible: perfect for him.
"You feel so good," he whispered, biting his lip, his half-closed eyes coming to rest on yours.
He was thick, and you were trying your best to make sure your mouth was wide open enough to contain him but also to keep the right pressure around him. So, breathing in gently to loosened your jaw, sank a couple of centimetres deeper around him, then pulled up slightly.
You started at a slow pace, taking your time to get used to all this and remember to breathe properly, but also to savour the moment. You relaxed your lips as you lowered yourself onto him, then pressed them once you got up, letting your tongue stretch out as soon as you came up to caress that sweet spot he'd mentioned.
"Be careful with the teeth, muñeca" he said softly as your teeth surreptitiously grazed his skin.
You widened your mouth a little more, breathing in so that your cheeks hollowed out and pressed against him.
"You're doing so good for me," he murmured, his hand still on your hair, caressing it even more.
His praise encouraged you even more, and you thought maybe it would be good to step it up a level. So you sank down on him a little too hastily, and he bumped your throat very lightly as you immediately pulled away, coughing slightly thanks to your gag reflex. How could the lady in the video make it look so simple ? You felt ridiculous.
"Hey, slow down," smiled Miguel as he straightened up a little to reassure you, "all the way down will take a bit more time, but you're already doing so good for me, arlight ?" He caressed your cheek. "No need to rush it."
You nodded softly, although you could have guessed that you wouldn't be able to take all of him in your mouth, especially with the little experience you had, you could still pleasure him.
You weren't just here to make him come, you were here to make him feel good because you wanted him to feel good. 
So you went back to kissing his tip, letting your tongue coat it again before taking it back into your mouth. You knew you couldn't suck the whole thing straight away, so you took his shaft in your hand, pumping softly. You let a little more saliva spill out as you remembered the movement of the woman's hand in the video.
You started twisting your hand clockwise while sucking on him, your tongue occasionally hardening near his sweet spot and the tip. He was making heavenly moans, his fingers weaving through your hair, his hips starting to move on their own.
"You look gorgeous," he moaned tenderly.
A low moan rose from your throat and vibrated against him, his head sinking into the pillow as his back arched, his fingers becoming a little firmer and gripping your hair.
When your jaw began to tire, you wrapped your second hand around his cock, twisting it counter-clockwise, your mouth concentrating more on the head. Your hands applied more pressure as you pulled back, and since your hands were twisting around him, you started softly twisting your head as well.
His hips dictated a rhythm that you followed, a little faster every instant, his hand on your head guiding you in the rhythm.
"You're amazing," he breathed.
You hollowed your cheeks, his rhythm quickening as his moans multiplied. He was going to come, and you would accept it with longing.
His breath became more and more ragged, and after a powerful moan and a single thrust of his hip, you felt it spill over your tongue. He was out of breath, and realising what he'd just done, he pulled out of your embrace confused:
"I'm so sorry!" he said, referencing your tongue covered in his cum, "It was just so good i forgot to pull out, you don't have to-"
But you pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth until the substance dripped down your throat and you swallowed. The taste was slightly salty, but nothing special.
"Swallow," he finished, a smile stretching his lips, surprised.
He straightened, pulling you to him for a gentle kiss.
"You did so great nena, really, I'm so proud of you. You were amazing... you are amazing."
A smile stretched your lips as he caressed your cheek and you came to kiss him again, delighted to have finally been able to taste your desire.
Bonus:
"So, was the material I sent you helpful?" asked Lyla.
"Very," you admitted, "excellent choice."
"What material ?" asked Miguel, confused.
"The new one for an upcoming suit," replied Lyla.
"I'm not sure we're talking about fabric here," remarked Miguel, slightly suspicious as he left the room and you winked at Lyla.
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strangerstilinski · 4 months
Text
a little bit of Older!Eddie thirst on this monday night. 🥵
𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+
“-and anyway, all I’m saying is, you’re gonna get a lot more years outta your car if you bring it in to get an oil change every six months or so-”
It’s not that you don’t care about what he has to say, your lack of focus on his advice has entirely more to do with the way his thick fingers are curled around the pint of beer in front of him. The metal wrapped around the base several of his fingers clink softly every time the older man nervously drums them against the glass. All you can think about is those fingers in your hair, gripping the fat of your ass or your hips, stretching out your cunt in preparation for his cock.
Your stomach flips a little at the sight of his fingernails. Scrubbed clean of any of the oil or grime that had been wedged into his nail-beds when you’d first met a week ago at the auto body shop, the little patch sewn into his coveralls had blessed you with the name that you finally utter now.
“Eddie?” You interrupt sweetly, glossed lips pursing when his eyes snap to yours.
“Shit. Am I talking too much? I’m talking too much, aren’t I?” He rambles in distress, bringing ringed fingers up to scratch at the coarse stubble lining his jaw. “It’s just- When you asked me to get a drink, at first I kinda thought you were just angling for a discount on repairs, y’know? I mean, pretty thing like you? Actually wanting go out with this old mess? It seemed ridiculous, but- Well, now we’re here and you’ve already paid off the invoice for your car and I’m a little-”
“Eddie.”
His words cut off with a quiet clack as his teeth snap together, eyes searching your own in the dimly lit bar.
“I want you,” Your hand meets where his is wrapped around the sweaty pint glass, fingers hooking underneath his own as you guide your laced hands to rest on the sticky tabletop, “I.. really want you.” You repeat with a bit more emphasis, the words a little softer with vulnerability this time, a little more desperate.
“What, like-? Like right now?” Eddie is already looking around the bar with wide eyes before his gaze flicks back to you, question swimming in their brown depths, “Here?” He murmurs in quiet disbelief.
You give him a coy smile, long lashes blinking at him longingly, “Here.”
Eddie rises to his feet a bit clumsily, like perhaps his body was trying to respond to your words before his brain, “Shit. Fuck. Okay, sweetheart. If you’re sure, I mean. Uh, we.. We could.. Um-”
You're far too worked up to find his racing thoughts as endearing as you think that you normally would, “Eddie-”
He’s dragging you up from the other side of the booth in a flash, large hands falling to your waist as he begins to guide you through the desolate Tuesday night bar crowd with his chest pressed warmly to your spine.
“Just come with me, baby,” Eddie trips over a his own feet in his heavy boots and nearly takes you down with him, narrowly managing to keep his feet underneath himself as he tries to keep you from stumbling, “Shit, sorry-” He grumbles into your ear from behind, the huskiness of his voice and the warmth of his breath prompting a pleasant shiver up your spine.
Once the two of you have stumbled your way down the dark hallway at the back, you spin around to let your arms snake around his waist from behind. Eddie is fumbling with the sticky knob of the bathroom door, the hairs at the base of his tummy soft under your fingers and you can't help but dip your hand beneath his waistband where the hair spreads further.
“Shit-” Eddie fumbles with the door when your fingertips just graze the base of his cock, the skin silky smooth under your palm as you push a little further so you can wrap your small hand around him, “Oh, you're a f-fucking.. menace, aren’t you? N-not so sweet after all.” He tells you, not an ounce of bite to his words, more of a groan of approval than anything.
Your only response is to press your lips to the side of his throat beneath his wild mane of curls, snapping a small nip of your teeth against the curve of his shoulder as you work your hand torturously slow on his cock.
Distracted by your touch, Eddie swings the door open with with a bit too much enthusiasm. He dives forward to catch it before it can collide with the dirty porcelain sink on the inside wall and only narrowly gets a hold of it in time.
As soon as the door is secured behind you again, you're dropping to your knees in front of him. Your mouth finds the soft pudge of his tummy, and metal and leather clink and slap beneath your quick hands as you work his belt and get his jeans open enough to tug out his cock. It springs up as it's released, half hard already and bobbing in front of you like it's taunting you for just how badly you want him. His cock is gorgeous — average length but thick and beautifully curved just a bit to the right.
You hungrily eye the tip where he's flushed dark pink, shiny and dribbling just the tiniest bit already, shining in the hazy light coming from the exposed lightbulb in the ceiling.
Eddie lets out a groan as you take him in your hand again and lick at his tip, savoring the small beads of precome that meet your tongue. You hum at the salty tang of them, dragging your mouth down the length of him, tracing the soft vein along the underside of his cock with your lips and tongue.
“Oh, shit,” Eddie moans, his hand finding it's way into your loose hair nearly immediately. He doesn’t pull, he doesn’t push, his hands are entirely too gentle. His fingertips pet soft at your head like he’s praising you already and you’ve hardly even started, “You.. Baby girl, you don't have to-”
You lean back from where you'd been swirling your tongue around the head, giving his length a couple of short tugs as you look up at him through your lashes with a huff, “Mm, and maybe I want to. You ever think of that?”
He balks, hips jerking minutely and incidentally thrusting his cock toward your pouting lips, “I.. Um-”
“Maybe I’m a young, confident woman who knows what she wants. And maybe I want to suck you off. Did that not cross your mind? Hm? That maybe I might like having your dick in my mouth?” You continue, voice dropping a few octaves.
A soft gasp turned groan falls from the older man’s lips when you lean back in to suck lightly at the tip and the sound has your thighs clenching together against the wave of arousal that curls in your tummy.
“Do you?” Eddie can’t help but ask, the question coming out a quiet groan, “Like it?”
“Mhm,” You hum around him, pushing further down his length to take in more of him, letting him feel the way your throat constricts around the head of his cock when you gag before pulling all the way off again, “Love it.”
“I just thought- Pretty thing like your shouldn’t have t- God. I, uh. You.. Shit. You’re certainly ohmygod- g-good at it.” He struggles to get his words out when you take him back between your lips, but then he’s huffing a quiet sigh of distress when you remove the warm heat of your mouth from his length once again.
“Good..?” You repeat in question.
“Wh- Huh?”
Eddie is blinking down at you dumbly, his hand flexing in your hair as he tries to clear his head. It's infuriatingly sexy.
“I’m on my knees for you in a dirty bar restroom and I’m ‘good’ at sucking your dick? It's.. ‘Good?’” You say the word with distaste, one eyebrow ticking up on your forehead in challenge as you place his tip back against your lower lip teasingly. You let it rest there, one hand coming up to his waist to keep his hips from jutting forward as you part your lips and let a warm breath wash over the wet head of this cock.
“Shit, sweetheart. Did I say good? I meant great! I, uh, phenomenal! M-mindblowing fuck-” He moans loud around the word when you reward him by taking him into your mouth again.
You let him rest heavy on your tongue, sucking and bobbing your head in slow drags while he sighs out a desperate little sound at the feeling.
“Fuck. You- You’re perfect, baby girl. You have to know that. An angel. Gotta know how much you’re- Ohh-”
The surprised groan that cuts him off has you soaked beneath your panties, moaning around his length in response.
“-How much you’re rockin’ my world right now.” He finishes weakly.
You pull off to give him an amused smile, jerking him in earnest with one hand and wiping spit from your lips with the other, “Oh, I rock your world, huh, old man?” You tease.
“God damn it,” Eddie breathes the words, dragging you up by your shoulders until you’re standing in front of him again, “You really are a little brat, aren’t you?”
But his mouth is on yours before you can respond, beer coated tongue breaking through the seam of your lips, a wide palm and fingers covered in cool rings encasing the back of your neck as he leads you just a few steps backward, until your spine is hitting the door.
Your keening moan is lost in the kiss, and as life-changing as his cock and fingers and mouth prove to be that evening, it’s his whispered words of praise and the sweet kisses he presses to your hair as he catches his breath at the end of it all that truly ruin you for anyone else.
As it turns out, the older mechanic who fixed up your car? Eddie? He’s kinda it for you.
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charliemwrites · 3 months
Text
Part 4 of Mafia!Price
There are many things to appreciate about your boss, but one of them is his respect for routine. You’ve gotten him on a schedule and now he seems happily beholden to it; appreciates your promptness with tea and pastries and morning “briefings” each day.
He’ll happily sit back in his big leather chair and listen to you chatter out his itinerary for the day. Meetings, reports, phone calls. Trips to the dock, now, bless him.
You try not to stare between glances at your tablet. For a rich bastard, he is unfairly handsome. Good taste in just about everything, classy and luxurious without being ostentatious. Old money vibes, for sure, though you know better than to do more than idly wonder. Helps that he’s also remarkably gentlemanly with you. You’re not one to buy into old stereotypes or gender roles, even the ones that benefit you — but you’ll take a chivalrous boss over your old one any day.
Besides, it’s not like he’s spouting off about what women should and shouldn’t be doing. Or trying to use you as an example of an “acceptable” working woman. So, yeah, you’ll indulge in the door-holding and offered arms.
“Alright, best for last — your reservation for Muse is tomorrow. The restaurant is twenty minutes from your penthouse, so Simon will be downstairs by 7:30.”
You check that off your to-do list as you continue speaking.
“Do you have a suit picked out yet, or should I order something? Green is in season and it would go nicely with your eyes.”
He hums; you glance up. Leaning back, one arm lax on the arm of his chair, black watch gleaming. The other is propped to press his index finger against his lips. Like he’s telling you to keep a secret. The corners of his mouth are tilted up.
Your tablet dings and thankfully distracts you from staring.
Oh, for the love of— the only person more inconsiderate than Philip Graves is his damn assistant.
“Is that the color you’re wearing, then?”
Will need to call later today — as if!
“Hm?” You ask, not having caught it.
He arches his eyebrows; ah, you must have been making a face again.
“Are you wearing green tomorrow?” He repeats.
You blink. Are you what?
“Tomorrow, sir?”
He nods, once. “To Muse, luv.”
When you continue to stare with pleasant obliviousness, his eyebrows furrow a bit.
“You do know one of those seats is for you, yeah?”
You press your lips together for a moment. Well… shit. You take it back. You take it all back. John Price is a terrible, horrible, awful man who is so rude.
“I do now.”
Across the office, you make wide eye contact with Gaz. He grimaces in sympathy and ducks his head, though it’s clearly just to hide his traitorous laughter.
“Of course you’re coming along.”
“Sir,” you say, pleasant and sweet, “remember when I first started here? And I told you that I’m not a mind reader?”
“Of course,” he answers. “You threatened to spit in my tea in the same breath.”
“Only if you told me to fetch it for you,” you correct, before continuing, “I feel you may need a reminder: I cannot read your mind. How was I supposed to know you wanted me to go with you?”
“‘S your job, isnit?” He replies. You give him a dark look; he puts his hands up with a chuckle. “My apologies love, I thought you’d be in my pocket next to my handkerchief. Like always.”
You set your hand on your hip, proper cross now.
“It’s outside usual working hours, sir. How could I have possible expected to be invited to your fancy man party?”
“‘Fancy man party’?”
“Well, there’s nothing for it, I’ll have to leave early tomorrow.”
You’re already tapping madly at your tablet, looking up a salon willing to do your hair and makeup. God knows what kind of meltdown you’ll have if you can’t get your eyeliner symmetrical.
“Do whatever you need to do, luv,” Price soothes, standing. “I really am sorry for the short notice.”
You wave him off, then pat his arm as he gently guides you towards the door. Absently, you comply, more focused on getting appointments set and rearranging your own schedule for tomorrow.
“I’ll make it work,” you promise, “I always do.”
You let him bring you all the way to your desk, lower yourself into your ergonomic rolling chair.
“I’ll let you know what color I’m wearing by… one o’clock. Yes?”
“Sounds great, luv.”
You glance at the clock. “Also you have a call with the KorTac Group in ten.”
He chuckles and taps your chin. “Cheers, luv.”
Simon is the one to pick you up Friday evening. You both pause in the lobby of your apartment complex, staring.
“You look lovely,” he says at the same time you ask, aghast, “what happened to your face?”
He’s got a dark bruises discoloring the skin around one eye. Clearly some ice has already been applied because the swelling is down, but it must be fresh because he didn’t have it yesterday.
He snorts. “My job happened.”
You tut. “I’ve got something for that but we need to get moving. Mr. Price said he needs some help with his suit.”
You grab his arm without hesitation, habit from any of your escorts or drivers always offering it to you. Usually you accept out of politeness, but tonight you could use the extra stability in your heels. Simon doesn’t seem to mind even though this is the first time you’ve done this.
He walks you to the car, holds the door for you. Sleek and spotless, a black Jaguar — your choice for the evening. You hum in delight at the warm interior as Simon slides into the front seat.
“Oh, thank you for the compliment, by the way,” you add as he pulls into traffic. “You look quite smart as well.”
He grunts, but you notice a bit of color to his ears in the passing streetlights. You smile to yourself and busy yourself with your tablet. Double checking the reservation confirmation, answering messages from Farah and Gaz, updating Price on your ETA.
The car stops at a luxury high rise just at 7. You hop out before Simon can get the door and receive a sharp look. He holds up a reprimanding finger; blink in surprise at the sternness of it.
“You pull that shite again and I’ll handcuff you to the door handle, miss.” He warns. “Making me look bad.”
You huff, amused, and take his arm again. “Don’t threaten me, Mr. Riley, I’m meaner.”
But you squeeze his thick bicep good-naturedly as he leads you into Price’s building. Your boss lives in the penthouse at the very top; Simon has to swipe a card for access. He’s also got a key to let you both in the door, holds it so you can enter first.
It’s all sleek and modern; not at all what you would expect of your boss’s more classical style. His office has a sort of 20s Hollywood vibe (gangster, you teased once) but clearly some interior designer was paid far too much for something out of a drab minimalist catalogue.
You don’t linger long, heels clicking on the polished floors.
“Sir?” you call.
“In here, luv.”
You grimace at the flight of stairs between you and the loft, but force yourself up them. The whole floor is the mater bedroom and it’s the size of your entire apartment. Walk-in closet, sectioned off lounge with a desk. His bathroom door is open, mirror fogged. It smells like soap.
“Bedroom to your right,” he calls.
You tip-tap in and your mouth instantly dries. Price is standing in the middle of the room, half dressed. Nothing unprofessional, no. He’s wearing slacks, a belt. But he’s also in socks, a white undershirt. No watch or rings or anything yet.
It feels oddly more intimate than it should. Your face warms despite yourself.
“E-evening, sir.”
He turns and you’re utterly unprepared for just how handsome he really is. Freshly groomed, hair trimmed and gelled, eyes bright.
“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” he rasps. “You’re stunning.”
You clear your throat, know that all the makeup in the world can’t hide how brightly you’re flushing. It’s pure politeness, he’s not looking at you with anything more than friendly appreciation. Mind out of the gutter, now.
“All the flattery in the world won’t save you if we’re late,” you manage, shaking yourself back into work mode. “So let’s see what we’ve got.”
You pick his shirt, a pocket hanky, his shoes. Tell him to get into those while calling Simon up the stairs. He’s there so fast you blink in surprise, then gesture him over. Sit him on an ottoman and extract the little bottle of makeup you’ve started keeping on hand for situations like this.
“Bullshite you had that in your purse,” he scoffs.
“You remember two weeks ago, when Soap came in with that bruise on his jaw?”
They told you it was a “disagreement” at the docks. You didn’t ask further, figuring it was some sort of bar brawl in that part of town. Rowdy boys.
“Ever since, I keep a couple minis on hand for you all.”
They’re so small that you just keep them in a pocket of your purse with the rest of your makeup and the tampons. Good for emergencies like this.
“You sure you’re not a mind reader?” Simon grumbles as you gently dab it over his face.
“How would being a mind reader even help in this situation,” you scoff, patting at it with your middle finger.
Price steps out of the closet with arms out. He’s picked a waistcoat as well that you hum in approval at.
“Which cufflinks are you wearing?” you ask, turning back to Simon. He’s sitting remarkably still and stoic — reminds you of a big dog trying to maintain some dignity while getting fawned over.
“The silver and diamond.”
You make a noise of disagreement. “The gold and onyx would go better.”
A pause. You sneak a glance and are relieved to see him smirking. “I’ll wear those then. Any opinion on a watch?”
You hum again, carding through your mental catalogue. “Oh! The Bulova you wore during that meeting with Kate Laswell. You remember?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He disappears into his closet again while you lightly blend in the last touches of Simon’s coverup.
“There we are, good as new!” You declare. “Oh, and here.”
You set a couple of ibuprofen in his palm as he stands. “For the inflammation. Take with water.”
“Yes, mum,” he mumbles.
You wince. “Sorry! I’m being overbearing, aren’t I?”
He blinks, then puts a hand up. “No, no. That wasnt — I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
You don’t entirely believe him. Know that you can be a bit much when you’re on a time crunch. Especially for something like this — an important business meeting over fancy dinner. You feel like everyone’s appearance is riding on you; this is your job after all. One thing out of place and everything will fall apart and it’ll be your fault.
“Simon, go take those,” Price orders from behind.
You turn as he approaches, a similar apology all set on your tongue. Instead, he gives you a sheepish smile and offers the cufflinks.
“Bloody useless with these,” he explains. “So unless you want to spend fifteen minutes losing respect for me…”
You laugh, amused by the idea of your hyper-capable boss struggling with a bit of jewelry that cost as much as a week of work. You step in close to thread them through his sleeves, fingers nimble and sure.
“You’re not wearing cologne?” You ask, surprised.
Don’t even realize how that might sound until he arches an eyebrow at you.
“Thought you might have an opinion on that too,” he replies. “And you haven’t steered me wrong, yet.”
He shows you his modest, but impressive collection of colognes. You pluck up one, sniff, and make a face, eyes watering a bit. It’s mostly full; clearly one he doesn’t wear often and you’re grateful for it.
“That bad, eh?”
“Sir, why?” You lament, putting it back.
“Gift from an ex,” he explains.
You store that tidbit of information away for further examination. The idea of your boss in a romance. Right now you’ve got a task to focus on.
“Did they hate you that entire time?” You wonder.
He snorts. “Maybe.”
You shake your head and pick a different one. Blink in surprise and sniff again. Feel your stomach flip.
“That one?” He asks when he notices you hesitate.
“No,” you say a little too quickly, setting it down. This is a business meeting, you can’t afford to be distracted by how he’ll smell with that on his skin.
You settle on one that doesn’t make your head dizzy and your panties shamefully damp. Still feel a bit like you’re shooting yourself in the foot, though. He’s going to smell sinfully good regardless.
You leave Price to his finishing touches and have Simon help you down the stairs. Check through the notes you hurriedly collected when you realized you’d be attending this dinner.
Price comes down too soon for your poor, stupid heart. Looks like something out of a magazine or a novel or a movie or… just too good to be real, really.
“Pass inspection?” He asks.
“Barely,” you tease.
His eyes do that thing where they smile more than his mouth; how you know it’s genuine. You try not to fluster, zero in on his tie, a little crooked and loose.
“Goodness, sir,” you murmur, stepping in close. Yeah, you were right. That cologne is going to be a personal challenge all night. “How did you get along before me?”
“With bad cologne and shitty ties, apparently,” he chuckles.
You grin despite yourself, getting it secure and centered, before smoothing his vest over it. Give him a once over. Feel your stomach flip again.
“If I may say, sir, you look handsome,” you offer quietly.
“Should hope so,” he replies, voice dipping in a way that’s detrimental to the state of your panties. “You dressed me.”
You hum, reach for your usual dry, sharp humor. “I have great taste.”
Instead of scoffing, he hums in agreement. Something flickers through his eyes that you don’t dare allow yourself to daydream on.
Simon, bless him, clears his throat and draws your attention. You check the clock above the stove.
“Ah, we need to get going. I can’t walk fast in these heels.”
You slip your arm automatically into Price’s and try not to obsess over how well you two fit together.
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wheeboo · 4 months
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01:10am | choi seungcheol
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SYNOPSIS. in which your cuddly boyfriend interrupts your late night reading time. PAIRING. choi seungcheol x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. a lil suggestive, reader is smaller than cheol, lil makeout kissing sesh oops, terms of endearment, cheol is whipped, self-indulgent fr WORD COUNT. 1.1k
notes: i just have this thing for soft cuddly bed scenes w cheol :(
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Seungcheol really doesn't know why that out of all other times of the day, you choose to read during the depths of the night.
But he's not at all complaining𑁋he's blessed with this grand view of you with your headphones on as you're sitting up against the frame of the bed behind, knees almost propped up to your chest, with a tiny, dim book light attached to the bridge of your book highlighting your face. Seungcheol thinks this might be one of his new favourite views of you.
He flips himself over to face your direction, opening an eye so he could quietly watch you. Seungcheol takes a moment to appreciate the cute, subtle details of your face when you're focused𑁋the way your eyelashes cast delicate shadows on your cheeks, the steady rise and fall of your chest, and the way your lips occasionally move, silently forming the words you're reading. The only sounds in the room he can hear are the rustling of you turning the page, the distant murmur of the city outside, and the faint music escaping from your headphones.
Letting out a yawn, he takes a moment to check the time on his phone, eyes widening to see how late it was. Yet when he turns back to you, he only pauses, because you seem too immersed in the book to be able to go to sleep right now, and he really doesn't want to disturb you.
"Baby?" he calls out to you softly, yet you don't hear him as expected, only furrowing up a brow at what Seungcheol could assume was you reading a peculiar scene in your book. He feels his shoulders deflate.
Instead, with a huffed breath, he can only take to sinking back within the bedsheets and hoping that you'd fall asleep after him.
But he can't fall asleep, no matter how much tossing and turning he does, since it's almost outrageous to his mind to the thought of him falling asleep without at least holding you in his arms like he always does.
Seungcheol turns himself over once more, a pout at his lips as he scoots closer towards you, yet you still don't seem to notice him. He contemplates for a moment, glancing down at your free hand at your side, and a thought crosses his mind. Slowly, he grabs your hand into his, intertwining your fingers together, and the action is just so natural and instinctive like a missing puzzle piece fitting perfectly into place.
He glances at you, noticing the slight smile that tugs at the corners of your lips as you continue reading. It isn't until he starts drawing circles on your palm and picking at your sleeve that finally grabs your attention, and you pick your head up to look at him, slipping your headphones off.
You watch the way he continues playing with your hand𑁋from drawing shapes on it, tracing the creases on your palm, to running a finger over your knuckles𑁋like it's the most interesting thing in the world.
"Cheol, what are you doing?" You ask bemusedly, attempting to pull your hand away but he just tugs it back.
"Hmm, missing you," he coos softly, adjusting your hands so that your flat palms are touching each other. The fact that the size of your hand is perfectly smaller than his is utterly adorable. "Your hand is small, you know?"
You roll your eyes, as if annoyed. "And yours is huge. We've been over this already."
"It's cute." He locks your fingers together again, tilting his head slightly to look at you. "You're cute."
You only click your tongue, biting back the smile to your face and the heat threatening up your neck as you bring your attention back to your book.
You release your hand from his. "Let me go read𑁋"
But before you can go back to reading, you feel a pair of arms wrap around and pull you into a tight embrace, knocking the book off your lap. A surprised gasp flies out of you, and in one swift motion, Seungcheol flips you both over so that he's now hovering over you. Your book is long forgotten on the floor as you stare up at him in surprise, the dim light casting a soft glow on both your faces.
Something catches in your throat as you lock eyes with him. If you listen closely, his breathing is just as unstable as your heartbeat, like he's breathless already. His dark gaze seems to hold a silent request, glancing between your eyes and your mouth. It bares a question that doesn't need words, and you answer with a small nod.
And with that, he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. It's soft, tender like always, and it doesn't take much for your body to go all limp below his as it deepens. He presses his weight against you carefully, making sure you're comfortable beneath him.
You feel the way he trails his fingers along your arm until he reaches your hand once again. With a deliberate move, he laces your fingers together before bringing your hand up to pin it gently against the pillow behind your head.
Seungcheol breaks the kiss, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.
"Okay?" he asks, voice a low murmur.
You nod, even though your heart is more than ready to burst out of your chest at any given moment. "Okay."
His eyes only soften, the smile to his face widening, a couple of shy giggles escaping your mouths together and into the thick air surrounding you both. He captures your lips once again in another sweet, lingering kiss, before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
"So pretty," Seungcheol whispers against your skin, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. He starts peppering feather-light kisses along your jawline, his hand gentle on your waist as he revels in the simple joy of holding you close. You lightly run your fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingertips.
"Why are you being so... so touchy right now?" You tease impishly, sighing contentedly at his touch, feeling the soft vibrations of his laughter against your cheek.
"I dunno," he admits simply, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "You were reading too much."
"I was only reading for, like, an hour. That's not that long."
"An hour too long," he counters sulkily, pressing a soft peck to the tip of your nose. "I can't fall asleep without you."
You let out a playful scoff, running your fingertips up the exposed skin of his back ridden up from the black hoodie he wore. "You're such a big baby, Cheol."
Seungcheol leans down so his mouth is just a breath away, and before you could register it, he's rolling over once again so that you're on top of him this time, his hands coming to rest firmly at your hips. There's a smirk to his face that you can hardly see, yet you already know what he's thinking.
"Only for you."
"For... me?"
"Just for you," he murmurs against your lips. "I'm all yours."
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taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag
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bettysupremacy · 3 months
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hii! I was wondering if you could write a fic with reader and any marauder (they all fit) and maybe helping or becoming protective over the reader after a concert or party after a creep follows the reader? 😭
I went through a similar experience with a guy following me around after I went to the restroom after a concert, and it ruined my night if i'm being honest, I was scared 😞 I'm not the most shy of people and usually I can handle myself but it was pretty dark and idk the adrenaline from feeling happy to scared shifted pretty quickly. Luckily I found my friends and let them know and we quickly went back to our car (along with a few dirty looks from my friends god bless lol). I swore I could go to the restroom by myself- will not be doing that again :(
you can ignore this request if it makes you uncomfortable!
thank uu
i’m so sorry that happened to you! “(they all fit)”= poly marauders!
There’s something about post concert depression, especially when you’re with the band.
Your glitter eyeshadow is smudged, eyeliner untouched. You’d been shaken around in the pit of your boyfriends fans, and yet the paint hasn’t budged. God bless water-proof makeup. The world seems prettier like this, touched by alcohol and the feeling of soaring pride for your boyfriends. The glittery lights and signs of time square never fail to dazzle you, even now as you lean against Sirius morosely.
“M’hungry.” You frown, toes tipping up towards Sirius, though you fear the mumble may have been more for yourself.
His attention is diverted towards the boys as they discuss what to do now. Plans of how to get home and where to eat. His finger taps your cheek slowly, his focus paying you no mind. Words like Uber, hotel, room service echo throughout their very repetitive conversation.
“Sirius.”
He looks down, a little shocked and sorry at his own attention. “Yes, lovely?”
“M’hungry.”
“Hungry?” He asks, cringing. You’re about thirty minutes from the hotel, and even then, room service will take another thirty.
“So hungry.”
He sighs, unsure of what to do.
“There’s a hotdog stand over there.” You grab his tattooed bicep to balance yourself as you point to your right.
He thinks, peering down at you. “This won’t ruin your dinner?” It’s midnight, but still.
“No,” you sing, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “I really want a hotdog.
He flushes, looking away from your wandering eyes. Normally he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. They would never let you out of their sight in a place like this. But the cart is in eye view of the boys, and he has faith in you not to stray, even in your inebriated manor. It’s not that they don’t trust you, they just prefer to keep you safe themselves. Is that okay?
“Okay,” He murmurs, pulling out his wallet, handing you his card. “At least get the good toppings.”
“I always get the good toppings.” You pull away.
The walk is short and the cart is colorful. Red and white stripes, curvy calligraphy. It shines in your inebriated vision. Beautiful. The queues not long, just an older man waiting in front of you, but it feels like forever as the generous man (with the toppings as well) takes your order and wraps it in warm aluminum foil.
You take the hotdog eagerly. “Thank you.”
It’s heavy in your hands, warm too. You yell Sirius’ name excitedly, waving the hotdog above your head for him to see. He laughs, thumbs up until you bump into a man, smile fading, concern etching his brows.
“Oh,” you murmur, looking up. “I’m sorry.”
“No problem,” he smiles. It’s uncomfortable, not the smile of a friendly civilian.
You laugh. It’s polite, anyone can see that, but he leans closer. He smells like liquor, a disgusting discovery that has you subconsciously leaning away.
“You new around here?”
An actual laugh stumbles out of your lips. “London? No.”
He takes this as an entrance. “You should show me around.”
“No, thank you.” You try to walk past him. Towards Sirius who’s already walking over. “Goodnight.”
“Wait,” he grabs your arm, pulling you back. His fingers dig into your elbow painfully.
“What the fuck,” you gasp, pulling your arm away roughly. “don’t touch me.”
“C’mon,” The man slurs, fingers reaching for you again. “Don’t be-“
“Hello?” Sirius walks up, all stock. He grabs your forearm pulling you to him firmly, getting in between you and the man. He’s not much taller, but more intimidating in demeanor. “Do we have a problem?”
“No,” the man scoffs.
“Cause it looks like you put your hands on her.”
He scoffs again, clearly inebriated. “We were just talking.”
“Well, conversations over now.”
“She can make her own decisions.”
“Fuck off, bro.” Sirius waves his hand dismissively. Quickly, he walks you towards the boys who are peeking their eyes up from the Uber app.
“She was asking for it.”
Sirius reels back, dropping your forearm to shove the scary stranger in the chest. He pushes hard, the man losing his balance as he falls to the ground in a sickening thud. You gasp loudly, the unexpected conflict startling you. Vaguely you hear Sirius say something to him, but you’re too focused on the way the man looks up at you.
James and Remus are there in seconds, quick on Sirius’s heels. They pull at him, up and off the man. There were no real punches thrown, no real injuring blows, it wasn’t even enough to form a crowd. But still, you’re shaken. You shiver like a leaf under your James’ leather jacket, suddenly not feeling the warmth of the alcohol you’d consumed before the concert.
Slowly, you stumble back and way from your boys, to the bench next to the shitty bar you’d passed on your way home. That had been scary, but you’re safe; that had been scary, but Sirius dealt with it. You bring your hand up to your chest, setting the hotdog you had been eager to buy down next to you.
“Hi,” Remus pushes aside the hotdog to sit next to you. “Are you okay?”
You look up to the boy, blindingly beautiful in the streetlights and advertisements. “Yes.”
He pushes some stray hair from your face. “He didn’t hurt you?”
“I think it was more startling.” James sits on the other side of you, kissing your temple firmly. “I’m sorry he did that.”
“It’s okay, I’m okay.”
“She’s okay.” Sirius gruffs from where he walks over.
He sounds cooler than he thinks he looks. He’s not bruised, bloodied, or bandaged, if he were he thinks he’d look cool enough to breeze over. But then again you look mad, so maybe he doesn’t want that.
“Don’t be upset,” Sirius crouches to your level. You’re in the arms of a solid Remus. “he was a creep.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Are you trying to tell me something?” He laughs roguishly. “I thought I looked good tousled.”
He does, and you know he’ll look good on the tabloids tomorrow too. Sirius black gives black eye? You sigh at the thought.
“You do.” James feeds Sirius.
“At least someone in this relationship cares for my ego.”
“You look good.”
“Oh, now you tell me.”
You laugh, letting Sirius stare at you like you hung the moon.
“Kiss em?” He pushes his knuckles in front of your lips. His fingers throb lightly, you can feel it on your lips.
“That was stupid.”
“C’mon,” Sirius’ eyes roll as he pulls you up. “You’ve got a hotdog to eat.”
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atinystraynstay · 4 months
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Love Underneath the Moon - Christopher Bahng
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Synopsis: "Coming home to you keeps me fucking sane."
Pairing: idol! Christopher Bahng x fem reader
Genre: fluff at the beginning but turns smut because all I keep thinking about is Chan's back photo from Global Citizen.. thanks Changbin, established relationship, possessive Chan - Minors DNI
Contains: nudity, dirty talk, fingering (f. receiving), ending (f. receiving), mentions of female masturbation with sex toys, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, creampie, oral (f. receiving), Chan eats cum out of your pussy (idk what you even call that??)
Word Count: 4.3k
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Today has been fucking shit Nothing is going right, nobody is agreeing on anything I just want to be home with you..
Each time you read over the text messages, your heart broke a bit. Chan was the guy who put is 100% into everything he does. Not only because he wants a solid end product, but because he cares. You adored how motivated and dedicated Chan was, especially when it comes to music. He's worked so hard to get to this point.
However, with that high level of dedication came intense frustration when things weren't going his way. You wanted to help him out as much as you could, but Chan sometimes forbid you from coming to the studio. It wasn't that he didn't want you there. You were always the first one to listen to the newest songs or projects. When they were almost finished, that is. If he was in the midst of the hurricane of creativity, he wanted to wait until he rode out the storm.
That left you with only one solution - prepare for Chan to arrive home. You had cleaned the living room, so it was a comfortable space for Chan the moment he walked in. You had his favorite sandalwood candle burning on the coffee table. In the kitchen, you were preparing his favorite meal. God bless his mom for sending you the recipe. You were certain he hadn't eaten since he stepped into the studio.
Chan was the type of guy that took care of everyone before himself. That's why he got so frustrated whenever he was falling short of his own expectations. The songs were pivotal for himself but also the success of his members. He also found himself getting agitated because he was spending more time away from you.
You rarely got the chance to spoil your boyfriend. He often was too insistent that he had to take care of you first, both in the bedroom and on a day-to-day basis. Tonight was going to be different.
Suddenly, you heard the front door of your shared apartment open and the sound of footsteps. You stirred the stew cooking in the pot once more before putting a lid on it, letting it simmer for a few moments. Your boyfriend needed you.
"Princess, I'm home," called out that familiar voice. "Coming!"
Your feet couldn't have carried you faster. You rushed towards the front of the apartment where you spotted your boyfriend. He was slipping off his leather jacket, hanging it up on the coat rack before slipping out of his shoes. He groaned in relief when his feet hit the soft carpet beneath him.
"Welcome home, handsome," you greeted. Chan smiled at the sound of your voice being closer than before. He looked exhausted from his somewhat slumped posture to the look in his eyes. You knew he was due for a good night's sleep, but not before you were attentive to his needs.
Once you were close to him, you snaked your arms around his torso. He pulled you in closer, arms flexed around your smaller frame and holding you close as possible. His face nuzzled into your hair. He loved the scent of your shampoo - coconut with a hint of vanilla. It comforted him. You felt his body somewhat relax just by the physical contact. You placed tiny kisses across the side of his face and jawline.
You knew better than to ask him about work. You already got enough information how work went from the texts exchanged between the two of you. Now that he was home, you wanted to help him forget about the day.
"My girl miss me as much as I missed her?" Chan hummed lightly. "Of course I did," you whispered.
You pulled back gently, just enough to be able to look up into his eyes. He smiled once he got a view of your entire face. Keeping one arm wrapped around you, his other hand reached down to tuck a few strands of your hair behind your ear. His hand then slid forward so he cupped your cheek. His touch was warm and comforting, causing you to naturally lean your face into his palm. He grinned at the gesture.
"Now, I have a few options for us tonight-" you began. "Sweetie, I appreciate the gesture, but I'm exhausted," Chan frowned.
He hated letting you down. You quickly shook your head which caused him to furrow his eyebrows in confusion. Just wait until he hears what you have in store for him.
"If you let me finished, I was going to say you can pick what we do," you explained. You kept one arm wrapped around his torso. Your free hand slipped forward to rest on his chest. You allowed your fingertips to run up and down gently, feeling just how toned your boyfriend was. Lord have mercy.
"So, I do have dinner on the stove. It is ready for you now or I can easily put it in the fridge for after," you giggled. "You could also go take off your shirt and let me give you a message, you can go take a shower, or we can go relax in bed for a while until you feel ready to eat. Anything can happen that you'd like, baby boy."
His eyes widened in surprise as his heart swelled with happiness. How did he get so lucky?
"As much as I love your cooking, my body aches. I was going to take a hot shower before we eat, but a massage sounds even better," he confessed. His hands ran up and down your sides affectionately, stopping at your hips. He gave a light squeeze before pulling you in closer. Chan's face moved closer to yours. There was something in his mind transpiring. "And how could I pass up the opportunity of having your hands all over me?" He asked, eyebrow raised but a smirk on his lips. His voice had dropped an octave which only accentuated his accent. It also made you want to drop on your knees for him.
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Candles were lit all around your bedroom, providing a warm glow to the room. Even under the dimmed lighting, Chan's skin still glowed. He had a playlist he created on Spotify for when the two of you would unwind at night. Currently, "I'm Probably Going To Rock Your World" by Logic was playing through the speakers.
You were straddling Chan's lower back. He was shirtless, muscles relaxed for the time being. His hands gently resting on the comforter beneath him. He always loved the feeling of your body on his. You were his anchor in this life. He would do everything and anything for you as you really go above and beyond for him.
"Just relax, baby," you whispered. "I've got you."
That's all that Chan needed to hear. He crossed his arms and let the left side of his face rest against them. From this position, he could still look back at you.
Your lips began to plant gentle kisses across his face. He had a wide grin on his lips, chuckling and blushing a bit. Chris was still getting used to the fact that you were willing to show him so much affection. He's never had a partner that seemed to be so prideful in being his. It made him all giggly. You smiled lightly against his skin as you pressed the tiny kisses which nearly killed him.
Sitting up slightly, your lips began to press into the back of his neck. They moved slowly to his shoulder blades. You've always been mesmerized by his shoulders, specifically their strength. In every sense, Chan was the strongest person you knew.
He was the leader of the group, he attended every meeting possible so the best decision was being made for the 7 members. He also constantly recorded every single that his mind came up with, most of the time for the others. He always put the 7 boys first before himself.
You also were attracted to his physical strength. You could watch the way his muscles flexed whenever he had to lift, pull, push, or do anything. You wanted to run your hands over every ridge formed, kiss every dimple. How did you get so lucky to have him all to yourself? Reaching beside you, you squirted a bit of lotion into your hands. Gently rubbing them together, just so the lotion spreads over your hands. Your hands got to work at easing his tense muscles. He groaned in bliss at the feeling of your hands against his skin. You felt your stomach tingle at the sound.
You focused on his back muscles first. Your fingertips pressed into his skin, rolling it gently. He hummed at the feeling, shutting his eyes. One of his hands though moved from underneath his head. It moved slowly to rest against your outer thigh.
There was no denying that you loved having Chan's attention. He was a very busy man. You were grateful to be a part of his world, but you loved the moments when nothing else mattered besides you. And to Chan, you were his everything. He was unafraid to show you that. "I'm sorry, sweet girl, that I've been away for a while. I cannot imagine how lonely the nights must've been."
With dance rehearsals, award shows, and promotions, you and Chan have rarely gotten time to just be with each other. Of course, you were incredibly proud to be able to witness firsthand all his hard work paying off. You just couldn't fight that you secretly wished he would be home more rather than seeing each other right when you wake up and right when you fall asleep. "Yet, here you are. Taking care of me?" Chan's hand ran up and down your bare thigh. His fingers ran along the skin, causing goosebumps to rise. He couldn't help but smirk knowing the effect he has on you. "Well, you're the one who had a bad day, baby," you rationalized. "Hmm, I did but you're always going above and beyond for me. I think it's time I return the favor." You didn't get the chance to argue with Chan. Before you knew it, Chan was sitting up. He placed both of his hands on your thighs to ease you onto the bed, so your back hit the comforter. He maneuvered himself so he however above you.
His hands left your thighs, so they could explore the rest of your body. He looked at you with love, with admiration, with lust. One hand rested on your side, caressing your stomach affectionately. The other hand was holding himself up as he leaned over you. "Much better, don't you think?" He winked.
The hand on your stomach slowly moved up underneath your shirt. He moved it slowly, wanting you to feel every ridge of his fingerprint on your skin. His hand slowly moved up and he cupped your left breast. He squeezed it gently, feeling the soft lace under his touch. Lace was always his kryptonite. "Why don't you take it off for me, darling? Hmm? Show me what belongs to me." You didn't have to be told twice. You first slipped off the oversized black shirt off your torso, the one you stole from his closet. The sleeves reached your elbows and came down to your thighs. You tossed the shirt onto the floor, exposing your white lace bra and panties to Chan. He nearly lost it.
"Like what you see?" You giggled.
When the two of you first together, you were a bit on the self-conscious side. You had a string of boyfriends who left more damage than love which made you cautious. Chan was quick to make work on dissolving any self-doubt you had about yourself. He loved watching your confidence grow because it meant that you were seeing yourself as he saw you. You were the whole universe in his eyes. "Baby girl, I fucking love it," he groaned under his breath. "And wearing all white? Really trying to be a good girl or the angel of death because you're going to kill me."
You couldn't help but giggle at his dramatics. One hand moved up to run through his hair, gripping it slightly. His jaw clenched as he could feel the lust storming inside of him. Yet, he wanted to keep his composure. He didn't want to go all in unless you gave him the green light. "You know I love you, right?" He murmured. He leaned down to press kisses into your jawline, moving down towards your neck. His lips worked rather quick. He made light nips into your skin, causing you to cling more to him. "But you want to ruin me?" You whispered into his ear.
You were quick to connect the dots. You could tell by the look in his eyes that there was something on his mind. And while you loved making love to your boyfriend, you both were craving each other. You had nowhere else to be but with each other. Your tone was light and seductive. It caused Chan's mind to become fuzzy as all he could think about was slamming his cock in your pussy. He craved your warm, wet, tight pussy as you screamed his name. The only name that could leave your mouth for the rest of your days. His inner thoughts revealed themselves as you could feel his boner pressing against your inner thigh.
"You read my fucking mind, darling." "Then what are you waiting for? Ruin my pussy for anyone else."
There it is. The green light.
He slowly sat up, looking down at you. You swore you'd never seen a more beautiful sight. And he was all yours. You smiled at him gently, showing him you were ready for everything that he was ready to give you.
The mood in the room shifted. Nothing prepared you for Chan gripping the lace of your panties and ripping them off your hips. You gasped in surprised, staring up at him with wide eyes. You always knew Chan was strong, but god damn. He could go through your whole underwear drawer if he wanted to because that was the hottest thing you've ever witnessed.
His ego boosted seeing as how your legs immediately opened for him. You have always been so responsive to him.
"My girl has been so patient for me, waiting every night for me to come home," he hummed. "Been craving this dick for so long, haven't you?" "I've missed your cock so much, daddy. Nothing can replace you." "You haven't been playing with yourself while I've been away then?" His eyebrow was raised. Oh fuck.
"Because don't think I didn't notice the pink vibrator you tucked underneath your pillow the other night. I know I never gave you permission because you never asked. What is one of daddy's rules?"
You wanted the bed to swallow you whole. You did your best to keep yourself occupied. Chan always appreciated his good girl. You would text him, saying how needy you were for his touch. The past few days of been silent on your end when it came to the topic. He figured you were just busy. "Well?" His tone now an octave lower. It accentuated his Australian accent, making your pussy become wetter in an instant. "Answer me." "To always ask daddy for permission before pleasing myself." "Very good. Daddy just likes to make sure his girl is being taken care of. I don't like lying." Before you could rush out apologizes to your significant other, his fingers smacked against your clit. The slap caused your legs to jolt a bit, pleasure running up your spin. "I really should punish you tonight." His words contradicted his actions. At first, his fingers gently rubbed small circles into your clit to ease the ache. Then, he moved his fingers to run up and down his slit. He smirked with satisfaction feeling already how wet you were for him. "But you went through so much trouble for me. It's as if you knew you got caught and were already trying to make up for it."
Your mind was a bit fuzzy already with the lust taking over. It's been weeks without the two of you being able to be intimate. There really wasn't anything that Ould replace how Chan makes you feel. You just needed something to hold you over, but you weren't able to risk saying that. You weren't in the mood for teasing. If being compliant got you what you desired most which was Chan stretching you out with his thick dick, you'd do whatever it took. "I'm sorry, daddy," you whimpered.
He smiled down at you gently before placing a lingering kiss on your forehead. You fluttered your eyes at the gesture but soon shot them up at the feeling of Chan's two fingers entering your pussy. He moved his forehead against yours, wanting to see your reaction.
His fingers already reached places your own could never. He made quick work to scissor his fingers. Chan always took pride in providing for you, in taking care of you. Foreplay and making sure you were properly ready, both physically but also emotionally and mentally were top priority for him. Skipping this step was a non-negotiable. "Oh, I know you are, baby girl. I know you can only be so patient for so long. I'm honestly impressed with how long you went before breaking." He didn't need to know just how many times you broke that rule. Not yet at least.
Your grip tightened on his hair as he curled his fingers in your pussy. The walls of your pussy were already clenching on his fingers, nearly making Chan roll his eyes back into his head. His fingers moved with urgency into you, his thumb moving to circle your clit. You cried out both in relief and pleasure at the feeling.
"My girl has really missed me."
All you could do was nod your head. You normally aren't the type to get this worked up over fingering, but given the circumstances and given that it was Chan - there was no surprise. You felt your clit throb from the stimulation and your legs twitch, your stomach growing warmer and tighter.
Not yet though. Chan wanted to experience that level of euphoria inside of you. Sure, he loved knowing that he could make you cum with just his fingers. He loved seeing that he was the one that made you see the stars.
Right now, with his cock throbbing inside his shorts, he needed to be inside of you. He wanted your pussy to squeeze his cock.
Just as you were about to warn close of your approaching high, he pulled his fingers out of you. He chuckled at your shocked state. You were so close. The lose of contact caused you to whimper. He almost felt bad. Almost.
He winked at you before sticking his two fingers in his mouth. He hummed loudly, loving the taste of you. It was his favorite thing in the world. He maintained eye contact with you, wanting you to know how attracted he was to you. He would do everything to make sure you never questioned his attraction to you.
Pop.
His fingers were pulled out of his mouth. The sound of their removal bouncing off the walls. "Sweet like honey."
Chan slowly sat up on his knees to pull his shorts. You both were grateful for your lack of clothing. it meant you two could get to each other sooner. He kicked them off, so they joined the shirts discarded on the floor. His cock slapped up against his stomach, the tip red with anger at being restrained for so long.
He was a work of art.
"No boxers, baby?" you giggled. "No, I knew I'd come up and fuck you the moment I left this morning."
You don't know what you did in your previous lives to be grated with being Chan's lover, but you were forever grateful.
Wasting no more time, Chan slid in between your legs. He placed one hand by your head. You tilted your head over to place a delicate kiss to Chan's wrist. You couldn't help yourself.
Even though it was rather intense in the room, that didn't mean you wouldn't let an opportunity pass by the show Chan how much he meant to you. He never crumbled at the gesture but quickly regained his composure.
With his free hand on your side, his knee pushed your thigh further apart. Just enough so he could slid in and place the head of your cock at your entrance. You moaned softly at the feeling. So close.
"Your pussy is mine, got it?"
You didn't even get to nod before Chan slammed into you. You moaned loudly at the feeling. His cock stretched you out, even after he fingered you properly. He groaned as your walls welcomed his cock, gripping already from how worked up and desperate you are. He rolled his head back. "So fucking gorgeous, babe. Fuck," he murmured before his hips began a brutal pace.
There was no time to hold back. You and Chan have gone far too long without being so intimate, all of it was being laid out. His hand gripped your side as his hips began to ram into you in a rhythm. The way he filled you up made you delirious.
His eyes never left you. He loved watching you fall apart in front of him. The grip you had on his bicep further encouraged him to give you everything he had.
The sound of wet skin slapping made him feral. He watched as your eyes rolled back, your cheeks a light pink color. Your lips were slightly parted as you moaned without any control. "That's it, darling. I know it feels good. Let everyone know how good it feels."
You moaned his name loudly. You're let one leg hook around his hip, keeping him close. In some ways, this is everything you wanted. You wanted him to just fuck you. Nothing more, nothing less. On the other hand, you craved just feeling him close to you. You craved his body heat.
This was all he wanted too. He wanted you all to himself, he wanted to be vulnerable and intimate with you. Having sex was just a bonus.
Given that Chan had teased you prior, it didn't take long for you to feel that familiar feeling return. Your back arched slightly as Chan made sure to angle his hips, wanting his cock to press against your g-spot and also make sure all of him was inside. You needed to feel every inch of him.
"C-Chan, I'm already close. I-I'm sorry, I can hold off and wait for you."
Your words were rushed. You felt guilty that tonight had become all about you, but honestly, this was Chan's perfect night. He smiled sickeningly sweet at you. Even with his cock filling you to the brim, you were the sweetest person. You were looking after him still even though he wanted nothing more than to cater to your desires.
"I know, darling. Don't apologize. Just let yourself go."
Your mind hesitated for a second. However, your body had other intentions. With one powerful thrust into your pussy, you came undone. You cried out in pleasure as your vision became white. Your toes curled slightly against the comforter. Chan admired for a moment the way your body shook.
That was all it took for Chan. He came just at the sight of you reaching your orgasm. He was satisfied seeing the sheen layer of sweat that coated your face and neck. He was over the moon the way your body trembled as you came down from your high. Your pussy walls was spasming against his cock
He groaned loudly as he came into your pussy. Hot spurts of his semen filled you deliciously. You could melt into the bed with all the love surrounding you.
Slowly, Chan pulled out of you. He felt his cock twitch slightly at the sight his cum seeping out of your pussy. You attempted to close your legs, but his hands stopped you. He wanted to take a second to admire his work.
Your chest was still rising and falling, but you were trying to come down quickly to rejoin him back in reality. Chan chuckled lightly underneath his breath before leaning down, licking a long strip to collect all the cum leaving your pussy.
You could die from the sight in between your legs. Sensing your eyes on him, Chan looked up. He winked at you before swallowing his cum. Lord have mercy.
Chan kissed your inner thigh before sitting up, allowing you to close your legs. He kissed up your stomach, in between your breasts, your neck. The kisses were cool yet set your skin ablaze. Your arms wrapped around his neck once he got closer to you.
The two of you were smiling wide, eyes disappearing and cheeks aching. Yet, neither of you could care. All the lonely nights were worth it for this one singular moment. And surely, there would be more moments like tonight to come. Your fingers played with the hair on the back of Chan's neck which made him chuckle, finding it both ticklish and enduring.
Soon, his lips moved to hover over your ear. His breath was warm as it hit the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. Your heart raced with anticipation. What else did he have up his sleeve? "I hope you enjoyed your last orgasm from me for a little bit. Bad girls still get punished, no matter how good they try to be."
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Note: HAPPY NEW YEAR! I hope 2024 treats you well 🩷 I started writing on Tumblr as a way to bring some happiness back into my life. I've always been drawn to writing, so I'm glad that I have another way to get my thoughts, ideas, and whatever else out there for other people. I'm definitely looking to writing more in the new year
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goddessofwisdom-7 · 4 months
Text
His Girl
Luke Castellan x female!reader
Description: Luke spends a moment with his favourite hot tempered darling.
Gif is not mine, credits to the creator.
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It was an agreed upon opinion that battle axes were incredibly unconventional but you had decided from the moment you had it made that this would be your weapon of choice. And by the gods, did you have a temper. You'd joke that at least your brutish rage would match your brutish weapon. It was extremely ironic when the owl symbol burned brightly over your head and not the symbolic blessing of Ares.
Luke always thought you were a fascinating person: soft features sharply contrasted with fiery eyes and an axe. All that righteous rage never looked so beautiful. He'd received a very limited amount of blessings that were for him alone, but you were satiating and comforting and the hollowed feeling in his chest filled when you let him reach out and accept him in your hands and heart.
And sometimes he'd think, okay maybe there's some salvation and goodness for me.
"Luke? What are you–"
"Just– let me, okay?" He asked as he traced his thumb across your brow and cheekbone, his other hand cupping the back of your neck, cradling you close– admiring, imbibing, "the twins tried to prank you again?"
You rolled your eyes, "would've been funny if I didn't see it a mile away."
"Is that so? Is that why they had me hide your axe?"
He laughed, drawing you close, kissing away the claims of betrayal and conspiracy.
"Gods, you're so beautiful," He sighed.
Sooner or later things were going to change. Luke had a feeling that the summer solstice would truly stir the pot and for all your anger, he knew that when it came down to it, you might not side with him always. In a way, Athena cannot be trusted and hence, neither could you or even Annabeth for a matter of fact.
That wasn't going to change his mind or the skeleton of a plan he'd created but it did make him begin to miss you already, and he knew that he'd covet you even more as the time passed and he'll miss your precious righteous anger and the bittersweet taste of salt and sweat that he kissed off your lips and cheeks after strenuous tasks or games.
His girl with fiery eyes and an axe.
"Yeah, yeah; you keep complimenting me while aiding and abetting the twins. Cancels each other out."
You grinned, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, sneaking your thumbs under his shirt, brushing his sides. You know Luke'll return your weapons and Travis and Connor will be sent for their showers after the entire Hermes cabin finishes theirs for the next week. All in all, dating Head Councelor has its perks.
"Your birthday's coming up, got any requests?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your hair before leaning back to look you in the eye.
"Nah, maybe we can spend the day sparring. I can show you this technique I've developed."
"Sparring, huh?" He smirks, "sure, I'd love to see this technique of yours."
"Wow, leave me alone," you roll your eyes, swatting at him.
He catched your hand and presses two kisses between your knuckles and as always, almost love a traditional practice you do the same to him.
"Alright I gotta go, the new kids got their Greek lesson now," you say.
"Wish I had such a gorgeous tutor back in the day," he teases, grinning as you stick your tongue at him, "I'll see you later."
"Yeah you will. I love you."
"I love you more.'
His girl with fiery eyes and an axe.
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vivwritesfics · 4 months
Text
Dog Mom 🤝 Cat Dad
Y/N Leclerc is a dog mom. Max Verstappen is a cat dad. The two go hand in hand
Social Media Au
spottydogrockie
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liked by username, charles_leclerc, and 1,456 others
spottydogrockie Rockie says thank you uncle Charlie
view all 194 comments
arthur_leclerc I'm the favourite uncle
spottydogrockie sure you are, arthur
lewishamilton Bring him to the next grand prix!
spottydogrockie he'll be in Ferrari red 🫡
username01 i have never been jealous of a dog
username02 Rockie Leclerc is my favourite Leclerc
charles_leclerc my favourite nephew
spottydogrockie your only nephew?
maxverstappen1 cats are better
spottydogrockie are you lonely, max?
maverstappen1 no i have my cats
spottydogrockie guys i think he's lonely
spottydogrockie
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liked by lorenzotl, maxverstappen1, and 4,865 others
spottydogrockie more talented than uncle Charlie
view all 438 comments
charles_leclerc sure you are, Rockie
username03 The real talent in the Leclerc family!
username04 pls put him in Charles' car next time you attend the race!
maxverstappen1 I could hear this from my apartment
spottydogrockie your ears have been blessed
maxverstappen1 i'm legally deaf now
spottydogrockie i'm legally obliged to say i don't care
username05 anybody know if Max and Y/N Leclerc really hate each other?
username06 omg charles was asked about this in an interview lemme find it real quick
username07 begging the instagram algorithm gives me the answers to this
spottydogrockie
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liked by arthur_leclerc, landonorris, and 6,448 others
spottydogrockie sweater is now covered in dog hair
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username08 THIS ISN'T Y/N'S SWEATER WHO'S IS IT???????
landonorris sus
username08 WHAT DO YOU KNOW
charles_leclerc nice sweater you got
arthur_leclerc where did you get it?
username09 no because I swear I've seen this sweater before i just can't remember who on
pierregasly rockie is gaslaying
spottydogrockie ew that was disgusting
spottydogrockie leave me and my son alone
spottydogrockie
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tagged maxverstappen1
liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 8,345 others
spottydogrockie contrary to popular belief, we don't hate each other
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maxverstappen1 conveniently not mentioning the part where rockie chased jimmy through my apartment and broke my trophy
spottydogrockie he wanted to humble you
username10 I'M SORRY WHAT?
username11 oh my god Rocky did a Lando
maxverstappen1 its rockie, actually
username11 MAX OMG
landonorris sus
spottydogrockie why you so obsessed w me
f1gossip
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liked by username12, y/n_leclerc, and 18,036 others
f1gossip eagle-eyed fans spot Max Verstappen walking Y/N Leclerc's dog in Monaco. In the picture we can see Max walking Rockie through the snow with no Y/N in sight. Fans who frequent the dogs social media page with the apparent feud between cat dad Verstappen and dog mom Leclerc. But not everything is as it seems?
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username12 they're dating c'mon
username13 max not sim racing is already surprising enough but i was not ready to see him with a dog
username14 no but rockie posted the other day that they had a playdate at Max's apartment and rockie broke a trophy they're 100% dating
username15 Y/N USING HER OWN ACCOUNT IN THE LIKES!?!
spottydogrockie
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 10,643 others
spottydogrockie mom calls it stirring the pot
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username16 NO THEY'RE DATING
usename17 WHO?
username18 not rockie soft launching 😭
charles_leclerc you have my approval
spottydogrockie never asked
athur_leclerc want me to send the pictures I have?
charles_leclerc ARTHUR
spottydogrockie oops
username19 Max not commenting?
maxverstappen1
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liked by y/n_leclerc, charles_leclerc, and 600,812 others
maxverstappen1 us
view all 6,758 comments
username19 HARD LAUNCH
y/n_leclerc is this your way of telling me you got me another dog?
maxverstappen1 i'm a cat person
y/n_leclerc sure you are
username20 this is the cutest thing i've ever seen
spottydogrockie
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tagged maxverstappen1
liked by maxverstappen1, arthur_leclerc, and 16,593 others
spottydogrockie 'i'M a cAt pErsOn'
view all 1,739 comments
maxverstappen1 blasphemy
landonorris sus
spottydogrockie get out of my hard launch
landonorris no
arthur_leclerc i approve
spottydogrockie you're hilarious
username21 not y/n outing max as a dog person
roscoelovescoco converted him 🤝🤝
spottydogrockie dogs are so much better than cats 😈😈
maxverstappen1 no comment
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jymwahuwu · 2 months
Text
Um…how about Sunday with virginity reader? 😌🫣💖
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cw: yandere, manipulation, gaslighting, orgasm control, non-con, corruption kink, some inappropriate views on virginity
Sunday has been carefully protecting you… from the contamination of the mortal world. As an adult, you followed a friend's introduction and joined The Family. After several religious gatherings, including praising Aeon Xipe, singing songs, and confessing your hearts and past stories, Mr. Sunday noticed you. You are so…pure, innocent, and need to be protected.
He invites you to those parties and singing. No matter what your singing ability is, praise your sincere heart on Sunday. The Lord Xipe needs believers like you. He showed you how much he appreciated you…and you were so flattered. Sunday is the leader of Oak Family and attracts much attention. And you are just a little believer…how could he notice you?
He emphasized that the Family is such a selfless organization and there will be no difference in status. It's not hard to get your information. After spending some time together and drinking SoulGlad, you sheepishly admit that you have never had any sexual experience. Never…never. So you are still a virgin. His smile widened a little as he listened to your admission to him. He said that you need to keep your purity uncontaminated so that the notes you sing are free from noise. (Even though you've heard, The Family has no limits when it comes to sex…)
So, you cannot have any spouse. Nor can you surrender to filth just because of the pleasure of temporary joy. But of course, Sunday is the exception! He has the responsibility to supervise and protect you. That gloved touch on your private parts and. Your nipples and butt must be checked regularly. Lift up your clothes. Let his hands gently squeeze and rub your breasts. See, you're sensitive. If you reach orgasm so quickly, it means you are not resistant to sex and need more testing and training.
He ordered a chastity belt for you. do not worry. That was customized with technology. There is usually no pain or side effects unless you are so eager to be penetrated that it hurts. That will be your own problem. No insertion…at least not for the first few months. After you resist orgasm, Sunday will hug you and compliment you on how well you did. You maintain your virginity while training your ability to withstand adversity and temptation. Of course, if you convulse and moan during orgasm, there will be a round of punishment. This is the rule.
Also love drama - so think about how he would react if you lost your virginity and Sunday wasn't the one to take it. This message may be found in a broken virginity lock, or some sign. You start avoiding him and use the device to giggle and chat with others, or stay up all night. Once this happens, Sunday will stare at you for more than a few minutes. He's not going to be brutally violent or anything like that.
"Who is that?" Sunday asked calmly. And you answer a name in harmonious tones. He chewed the name calmly and repeatedly, like chewing up some bitter food. Sunday will express disappointment in your disobedience and resistance. Didn't he already emphasize that you can't look for any partner?
The Family has accepted you. Why would you want to find another place of hypocrisy? You will be locked up in a particularly luxurious room, and The Family will fulfill any reasonable request you want, but you will be forced to listen to music with Xipe's blessing for a long time in order to forget those unimportant people and things. If you behave yourself, you won't be on his knee that day receiving those daily slaps. And Sunday will keep penetrating you at least once a day. Since you totally don't care about his lead and are desperate for sex <3
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trensu · 9 months
Text
Steve had always wanted to be a skilled fighter. The schools that churned out the best fighters all happened to be schools for holy warriors. It was possible that Steve maybe sort of lied a little (with the help of his friends Robin and Dustin) to get into this school by claiming he was full to the brim of religious fervor but hadn’t decided who to pledge his sword to yet. It shouldn’t have worked, if he were honest with himself, but by some stroke of luck it did, and he finished his training as one of the top combatants. 
The issue now was that he had to pick a god whose crest to carry. There were all sorts of gods. Gods of water, gods of air, gods of agriculture, war gods, cat gods, plant gods...the list was endless. And while Steve was one of the best fighters around, he was most definitely not one of the best researchers. Thankfully Dustin and Robin were very clever and knew where to find details about the many gods in existence.
“So what kind of god do you want to follow? Maybe we can start there,” Robin asked.
“Uh…a good one?”
“You’re no help at all, you know that?” Dustin grumbled.
They suggested a local god known as Carver who stood for righteousness, but Steve turned that down. It didn't feel like a good fit. They suggested a love god by the name of Chrissy, who valued love of all kinds, romantic, platonic, familial...Steve had been tempted, very tempted, because Steve had always carried an excess of love in his heart. Robin had vetoed that one stating that Steve was already too reckless with his love and she wouldn't stand by and watch him break his own heart over and over again.
Dustin suggested a god of knowledge, Clarke, who blessed and guided those with curiosity, imagination, and a knack for invention. Steve shot that one down immediately. He was never one to be overly imaginative or curious; he preferred to deal with concrete things. Out of their quickly dwindling list, Robin reluctantly suggested Hargrove, a war god favored by a nearby kingdom, but if Carver was ill-fitting, then Hargrove was outright repellent to Steve.
"C'mon, Steve, you gotta pick someone!" Dustin huffed in frustration. 
Robin thunked her head against the table in the library where they were looking up deities. She was obviously at her wit's end too. Steve, however, just dug his heels in with a particularly stubborn scowl.
"I can't just pick anyone!" Steve said. "If I'm going to pledge my sword to someone, it has to be someone...someone good. Someone that, I don't know, someone I can believe in, even when--no especially when things go wrong. That’s the whole point!"
"Yeah, I get that," Robin sighed, a mix of fond and annoyed, "but this is the eighth book we've gone through and the only one left here is called the King of Darkness which is hardly going to--huh."
Robin paused mid-rant to look at the page more closely. Steve and Dustin both huddled around her to peek into the book as well. Dustin also made a sound of curiosity.
"That's weird," Dustin said.
"Right?" Robin asked enthusiastically.
"What? What's weird?" Steve didn't get what caught their attention.
"This god only has a couple of sentences," Dustin explained, "And they don't really make sense. Something about dark creatures and the undeserving? The grammar and structure is all weird though."
"It looks like a half-assed translation," Robin added with a nod. "We should find the original text."
"Yeah! And if we can make a better translation, we could get it added to the next edition and they'd have to put our names on the book," Dustin said excitedly. Robin's eyes lit up at the thought and they both rushed off to the stacks to track down any original sources.
"Guys! Guys, what about my..."
The librarian hushed Steve, irritated. Steve groaned in defeat.
"...godly choices. Yeah, fine," Steve slumped back on his seat. "I need to find non-nerd friends."
Two days later, Robin and Dustin finished translating a slim, dusty book. They were nearly vibrating in their seats as Steve reviewed their notes on what they found. Dustin gripped his arm and gave him a shake.
"So? What do you think?" he asked excitedly.
Robin slung her arm across Steve's shoulders. With more tenderness than Steve expected, she said, "I know it doesn't seem like it, he doesn't really fit with your whole style, but it could work."
"Yeah," Steve said with a hopeful smile. "Yeah, this feels right."
--
It took longer than Steve would've liked, but eventually he managed to track down a small, crumbling shrine. It was an alcove carved near the entrance--no more than a crack in the stone really--of a cave at the edge of a lush forest. He almost missed it, it was so drowned in overgrown crawling vines and weeds. It bore a modest statue, no bigger than Steve, standing atop an equally modest plinth. There was a spot that obviously held a plaque once, but it must’ve been dug out by thieves at some point.
The sight of it made something in Steve's chest twinge; a strange pang of melancholy at seeing a god so forgotten and abandoned. It surprised him as he had never been particularly religious, but there was just something about this one that drew him in.
It was the middle of the day, so Steve quickly made camp and took advantage of the light to begin clearing the shrine. He started where the plaque had been, scrubbing off the dirt and moss that had filled the indentation. He knew a good smith; he could commission a new plaque to be made. After that, he weeded the immediate area around the plinth where worshipers would typically lay their offerings and pray.
By the time he finished that, it was late afternoon and he decided that was good enough for today. He had to eat and get a few hours of sleep so he could be alert once night fell. When he curled up on his bedroll, he couldn't help the grin that spread on his face. He was going to offer himself to his god tonight, and with any luck, his god would accept him.
--
He woke to a multitude of high pitched squeaks and the sound of many, many flapping wings. The sun had just fully set, and the stars that could be seen through the canopy burned brightly. Steve took his time to fasten on his armor and scabbard properly, and fixed his hair so not a strand was out of place. He took a few deep breaths to calm an unexpected bout of nerves before going to the shrine and kneeling.
His god had no official prayers. Or rather, the prayers for his god were forgotten. Robin and Dustin did their best to find anything prayer-like but it had been in vain. They suspected that most of the god's holy items and lore were purposely lost. Lacking that, Steve decided it was best that he introduce himself.
"Um, hi," he started and immediately winced. "Sorry. I'm not used to...this. I couldn't find any of your…holy words? Prayers? The right ways to speak to you, I guess.
"I'm Steve. Steve Harrington. I'm a fighter. I finished my training a few weeks back. I was the top of my cohort when it came to combat. I'm good with my sword and I know how to take a hit. I can turn just about anything into a weapon if it's needed."
Here Steve paused for a moment, straining to hear but there was nothing other than the typical sounds of a night out in the woods. Steve took a breath and plowed forward.
"I want to be more than a fighter, though. I don't want to just wave a sword around for nothing. I want it to...to matter. So I spent a lot of time trying to decide who to wield my sword for. It took me a while, but I found you. I want to be your shield and sword, if you'll have me."
Steve stopped again to listen. Nothing. Robin warned him this might happen. Gods didn't always accept warriors who offered themselves to them, and forgotten gods weren't always reachable. It was fine, though; he’d try again tomorrow night. Steve turned in just before dawn, eager for night again.
--
Steve worked on clearing the vines tangled around the statue's legs and feet. He yanked out the thick, scraggly vines, and carefully picked apart the prickling thorny ones. There was a particular gnarl of vines that didn't seem like they had a stranglehold on his god's statue. They were healthy and strong, and the way they curled and grew looked more like a caress than an invasion. He decided to leave those on, though he gently rearranged them while removing the more invasive vines so they looked more decorative.
When night arrived with the sound of squeaks and wings, Steve went to kneel at the shrine. He introduced himself again, gave the same spiel as the night before. Still he heard nothing. He scratched the back of his neck in mild insecurity.
“I guess I should tell you I didn’t find you on my own. My friends Robin and Dustin helped me. They’re way smarter than me, you know? Total nerds. I can swing a sword like nothing, but books and research? Yeah, that never works out for me, so they helped me look up all sorts of gods.
“There’s a lot of them. Way more than I thought. Dustin and Robin both recommended me ones or vetoed others. They were getting frustrated with me because I kept rejecting the ones they gave me. 
“Then Robin found you. Kind of by accident, to be honest. But she did her research thing and I knew that I wanted to carry your symbol. It took me forever to find this shrine. Robin said this was probably the only shrine you had left, so I had to find it. 
“Dustin kept saying it was on the other side of the forest, but obviously he was wrong. Not that he’ll ever admit it, the little shit, but whatever. I’m sorry your shrine was abandoned like this, but I promise I’ll fix it up. I’m good with my hands, I can do it.”
There was no response to his admittedly disorganized ramble. It was fine, he told himself. He needed to be patient. He’d come back the next night.
Around the statue’s waist there was another tangled mess of vines, except these vines had died and rotted to dark sludge. There was fungus growing on it, and it reeked. It was gross. Steve scrubbed at it for hours because the rot had stained the stone. He was able to get rid of the rot and most of the stains before going to catch a few hours of sleep in the afternoon.
Night fell and Steve was kneeling for the third time. He repeated most of what he said the previous two nights. There was still no response. He thought maybe he was pushing too hard. He’d never been the super talkative type anyway. He could share the quiet night with his god, if that was what his god wanted.
A few hours passed when he was startled out of his near meditative state by the sound of snapping twigs. He leapt to his feet, hand on his scabbard. Someone–a man by the look of it–stumbled out of the woods. He was pale and dark haired, dressed in ragged clothes that were probably awful even when they were new. He looked like a vagabond. 
Steve stepped in front of the shrine, protectively. The stranger grinned at him and Steve could already tell he was not going to enjoy the conversation that was about to happen.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Steve asked firmly, cutting the man off before he could speak. The smile only grew wider.
“I could ask you the same thing, sir,” the man said, adopting the annoyed huff of a wealthy lord. Steve scowled.
“I asked first.”
“I asked second!”
“You didn’t ask me anything,” Steve responded, somewhat smug. The man paused and then snorted a laugh.
“Yeah, okay.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You got me.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“What are you doing here? Who are you?” Steve repeated shortly. The teasing grin was back, and Steve felt his scowl deepen.
“Nothing and no one, m’lord,” the man bows mockingly.
“I’m not a lord.”
“Huh. Could’ve fooled me. You’re certainly as demanding as any lord I’ve ever met.”
“Oh fuck you,” Steve snapped. “I’m a holy warrior.”
The man laughed at him outright.
“Well that doesn’t sound very holy warrior-ish. Are your type allowed to swear?”
Steve grinded his teeth and decided it was not worth it to continue this conversation for much longer.
“Look, if you’re here to steal, I’ve got nothing on me.”
“That’s exactly what someone with something to steal would say.”
“Well, I don’t! I’m on a pilgrimage and I don’t want to spill blood on holy ground. So.” Steve wrapped a hand around the hilt of his sword. “Leave. Please.”
“Holy ground? Here?” the man barks out a laugh. “Don’t you know what this place is?”
“Yes,” Steve says shortly, placing himself more firmly between the shrine and the man. “Please leave. There shouldn’t be violence done here.”
“Oh, it’s far too late for that. This place used to belong to the King of Darkness. It’s said he was so evil that nothing grew here until he was run out and defeated by the god of righteousness. You know the one. Really plays up the holier than thou thing by making his hair all gold and glowy? Gotta say, you could give him a run for his money though.”
“You’re wrong.”
“No really! Your hair is great. Way better than Carver, even with the glowy thing.” 
“Not that!” Steve said in frustration. This guy really liked the sound of his own voice and Steve was starting to get a headache. It was near dawn and all he wanted was to spend the last hour or so in the quiet night with his god.
“So you agree your hair is better than a god’s?” The man tsks at him. “That’s pretty blasphemous. Are you sure you’re a holy warrior?”
“No! I mean, yes. Wait,” Steve growls at his own bumbling. “No, I’m not better than any god. But I am a holy warrior. Kind of.”
“Kind of.”
“Look, I’m working on it so I need you to leave. You’ve insulted him enough already.”
“Your god is the King of Dark–”
“Call him that again, and I will draw my sword,” Steve said, voice steely. “He’s the Lord of Night, and I won’t let you insult him at his own shrine.”
The man goes quiet for the first time since he showed up. He looked almost surprised, his mocking grin gone. His eyes flicked over to the dilapidated statue and then back at Steve.
“Lord of Night doesn’t sound much different than what I called him,” the man said lightly.
“Well, it is,” Steve told him. “Now, will you please leave?”
The man stared at him for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah, alright.” And then he left as suddenly as he had arrived.
The tension that had built up in Steve’s shoulders drained away. He went back to kneel in front of the shrine again when he noticed the barest hint of sunrise on the horizon. He cursed under his breath then was hit with a wave of embarrassment at cursing in front of the shrine and the whole situation that had transpired.
“I’m sorry about that,” Steve said, abashed. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”
It happened again.
now with an additional snippet here and here
ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you'd like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories
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charliemwrites · 3 months
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Part 5 of Nikto’s Commandments
Nikto is familiar with torture. So, so intimately familiar with it. When he knew nothing else, he knew pain. He knew flayed skin and cracked bone and burnt flesh. He knew screams tangled up in chipped teeth and pulpy tongue. Agony became a filter through which all the world’s color bled.
He didn’t know how sweet torture could be.
He didn’t know he could crave the blade of a kind word. That he could relish the bone-deep ache of a gentle touch. He longs to be drowned in your soap and burned on your skin, wishes every brush would scar as badly as acid. Somehow, he remains intact.
You are a torture he could languish in for eternity. Would gladly be hung with a braid of your hair.
But you, blessed thing, don’t even realize what you do to him. The exquisite suffering that’s remaking him. Or maybe if you do, you’re too merciful to take it from him.
“Nikto…” you croon. You’re flushed and giggly, all but in his lap. “Is this three or four?”
“Four.” He’s been counting, but he won’t stop you from having more.
You wanted to go out with the rest of the KorTac team you two have been sent with. Ever generous, you asked if he’d rather stay in, but Nikto just nudged you out the door and sunk into your shadow like always.
“One more?” you ask.
He grunts in agreement. If you wanted to stay out till sunrise, he would escort you over sunbeams.
Aksel stands to get the next round and you cuddle in against Nikto’s side again. Don’t seem to mind the Kevlar under his shirt, or the knife pressed against your thigh.
“You sure you don’t want to play another round?” Roze goads, smirking, as she shuffles the deck.
You grin, wide and pretty and so blindingly happy. “You just want to cheat me at cards.”
“I could never with your guard dog on duty,” she purrs.
You scrunch your nose this time. “He’s not.”
“A guard dog or on duty?”
“Either! Both!”
Nikto clicks his tongue and slides your half-finished water closer. You agreeably accept the distraction, dutifully sipping another quarter of it under his watchful gaze.
“I am just teasing,” Roze soothes when you set the glass down again. “Nikto just takes care of you. It is good.”
You hum, apparently pleased with her roundabout apology. “It is good.”
You thank Aksel as he sets another glass in front of you, wiping at the side with an already-soggy napkin.
“Courtesy of a man at the bar,” he adds, winking and pointing.
Nikto whips around instantly, makes cold, deadly eye contact with a normal weak unbroken stupid man at the bar. He shifts when he realizes that it’s not your attention he’s getting and awkwardly turns away.
“It’s not drugged, right?” you ask. When Nikto turns back, there’s a frown on your face. He clenches the hand farthest from you, creak of leather lost in the noisy bar.
“No, I kept a close eye,” Aksel assures. “He just tossed some cash down to ‘pay,’ that’s all.”
You snort, shrug. “Whatever.”
Nikto settles again as you continue watching the card game, seemingly content just to be in the company of others. You sip at your last drink of the night, cheering Aksel on as the underdog of the table. Nikto tucks you close and counts cards.
It’s not long before you make an uncomfortable noise and pat at Nikto’s thigh. “Restroom, please!”
He slides out of the booth and silently helps you after him, a shriveled but mending part of him endeared by the wobbly way you cling.
“Okay I think I’ve got it from here,” you assure him, patting his arm.
“You want company?” Roze asks, frowning.
“Only if you need to go too,” you reply, “but it’s right there. I’ll be okay.”
She hums and pushes another few peanuts into the center of the table with the rest of the “pot”. Nikto hesitates, but you point out the door, clearly within eyesight.
“It’ll only be a minute,” you promise, stretching up on your toes to kiss his cheek over the mask. You toddle off before he can do more than freeze.
The whole team is snickering, grinning, or shooting him knowing looks when he haltingly turns back. If he wouldn’t take their hands for it, he’s sure at least one of them would be patting him on the back. But they know better than to try to make conversation, especially without you present, and return to their game. (He thinks this is what you would call “social interaction” and it’s tolerable, for now.)
Nikto counts exactly sixty seconds before turning to watch the hallway to the bathroom. Just in time to see the man that bought you the drink stand and saunter that way. He doesn’t enter the men’s bathroom, only hovers at the edge of the hallway. Waiting.
Nikto stands and crosses the bar with a speed usually reserved for those who don’t know they’re dead yet.
The man sees him coming, wavers between pride and the smart choice. Survival instinct wins out to make the smart choice and he slinks off before Nikto is even within arm’s reach. Not a word is exchanged.
Thirteen seconds later, you stroll from the restroom and instantly catch sight of him.
“Miss me?” you tease, coming right to him.
He hums because you’ll realize he’s being honest if he says yes. But you’re a little too tipsy to do more than grab his hand as he leads you back to the table. Seem amused as he ushers you back into your safe spot in the interior.
Another blissful half hour passes before you lean into him, big eyes peering up through your lashes.
“Ready to go home?” you ask in slow, imperfect Russian.
He’s hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol and his head swims like he’s drunk. You make a surprised noise as he grabs your cheeks in one massive hand, gives a little squeeze.
“Again.”
You blink, a little cross-eyed from how he leans in. “Ready to go home?” you repeat, only slightly less stuttering this time.
It’s obscene how quickly he fills out his pants.
“Yes,” he responds in kind. Your eyes light up.
He tosses some money on the table to cover your drinks and then maneuvers you out. You happily follow along, fingers curled in the edge of his glove.
He bundles you into the separate car you insisted the two of you take, knowing he’s not one for socializing or public. Only goes to the driver’s side once you’re comfortable and buckled in.
“You have been learning Russian,” he asks. It comes out flat, but you know him well enough to just sense the inflection in his voice.
“A little bit,” you admit, beaming. “I’m not good at it. I haven’t had a lot of time to learn.”
He shakes his head. Where did you find the time? And how did he not notice sooner?
“Say something,” he commands, too fascinated to remember who he’s speaking to.
“Ummmmm oh! I love you, Nikto!”
You squeal as he hits the breaks and jerks the wheel, taking the car to the side of the road. Parks there and twists to look at you.
“Say again.”
“I love you, Nikto.”
He narrows his eyes. Leans in. “Do you know what you are saying?”
You must not. How could you of all blessed creatures say something so—
“Yes.” You tilt your head, brows furrowing. “Unless I’m pronouncing it wrong?”
“You are not.”
You are but not so badly that he doesn’t understand - on a surface level at least. He can’t fathom those words coming from your mouth. Directed at him.
His hands convulse on the steering wheel. Wanting to reach for you but unsure why. What he’ll do. He’d never hurt you, that’s the furthest thing from his mind, but he doesn’t trust himself with you either. Not right now.
And then you say something else.
A handful of sounds. A name he hasn’t heard in years. A name he barely remembers but jerks him like a leash. What he was before Nikto.
“I love you,” you repeat once more in English. “Didn’t you know that?”
On his best day words are difficult. Right now, he can’t fathom what combination of syllables would explain to you the jumbled chaos in his head.
That you can’t love him, because he is a Thing of blood and bone and agony. That even if you could love him, he would be undeserving of it. Your voice rings in his head, church bells for a broken soul.
“No,” is all he rasps out.
You make a sad face. He feels like the lowest scum.
Then you’re scrambling out of your seatbelt, out of your seat. Climbing over the center console and into his lap. He doesn’t even feel it when your knee clips his ribs or the toe of your shoe hits his thigh. It’s nothing compared to the warm lapful of you he’s got peering down at him now.
“You know how I always remind you that you’re a person?” you ask.
He hesitates, then jerks his head in a nod. You mirror him, face so serious.
“Well you’re not just a person, you’re my person,” you explain. As if it’s so simple as spelling it out. “And I love you.”
“I do not…”
You wait for him to finish, but he can’t. He just squeezes his hands into helpless fists, unable to let himself touch you.
“Don’t what?” you murmur softly. “Don’t deserve it? That’s not your choice. Don’t love me back? I don’t care. I don’t love you to get something in return. Don’t understand? You don’t have to. I just do. It wasn’t a choice I made.”
You gently tug the topmost layer of his face coverings aside, drop a kiss to the tiniest sliver of skin visible beneath his eye.
“You’re my person and I’m your person,” you finish.
“Is that… what love is?” his voice is barely more than a scraped whisper. What little he remembers of people who used the word “love” towards him in the past made it seem like the blackest curse.
“That’s what our love is,” you answer easily. “Or can be, I suppose. You’re not required to feel the same way.”
He doesn’t think he does; what he feels for you is beyond that. Beyond, he suspects, what you might even have a word for.
“Again.”
Your face breaks out into a huge smile, lighting up the dark interior of the car.
“I love you, Nikto.” You press your palm to his heart and breathe softly in awe when you feel how his heart trips over itself for you. “Will you teach me to say it right?”
He leans his head back against the seat to take in the whole of you. Warm and comfortable and unafraid. Safe. (His…)
“Da. Repeat after me.”
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miirohs · 7 months
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a little sugar and spice [v.s.s]
pairing: OPLA!Sanji Vinsmoke x Fem!Reader wc: 0.7k cw: n/a an: *in dj kahled voice* another one- also i started reading the manga! this was lowkey inspired by this one reel i saw in a series called cheese church- chessus bless guys!
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"Finally awake?"
Sanji stood there, towel thrown over his shoulder as he mixed something, pausing for a moment to look at you.
There was a brief silence, in which you coughed, trying to fish a response out.
"Did i fall asleep here again?" You groaned, the sticky feeling of the leather ever present as you pulled yourself up sluggishly.
"You did, i'm not complaining. I got a lot-" He pointed to the chopped vegetables sitting to the side, "-of meal prepping done. It's just as quick as i remember it being."
"Speaking of which, when did i fall asleep? The last thing i remember was coming in here for something," You muttered, trying to recall any more you could.
"Nothing much. You came in here for a glass of water, and eventually you fell asleep on the couch," He said, smiling widely, "you tried to help me with the pastries i was making too, but you kept messing with the batter."
You shrugged, getting up and stretching.
"You want something to eat?" He asked, wiping his hands on the towel, "You haven't had anything since yesterday." Before you could protest, he gave you a pointed look, "And don't you try to protest love. As i recall, you drank the entire bar dry last night and started professing your love for m-"
"Shut up," You flushed, mouth opening and closing as he gave you a victorious smirk.
"Still, you know i'm not wrong." "Why you.... you know what? I'm not sure you'd be able to make what i want," You said, sticking your tongue out at him, "i'm very choosy about what i eat."
He gave you a deadpan look, rolling his eyes, "What? Fancying yourself a picky eater today love? I assure you, i can make anything you can imagine."
You thought long and hard, biting your lip before it hit you.
"I want a grilled cheese."
"A grilled cheese?" He let out a little laugh, putting down his knife, "Are you sure thats all?"
"Yes. That's all i want. A grilled cheese," You said, slamming your hands down on table, eyeing him up and down. "If you don't make it, you're not man enough-"
"Challenge accepted," He said, quickly putting away his other tools, "I'm assuming you know where the cheese is. Go get it-"
"Already on it," You said plainly, opening up the cabinet. Among various bottles and boxes, there sat a wrapped block in the back, wrapped with twine.
"Found something!" You pulled it out, coughing as he took it from your hands. Unwrapping it, he whistled, showing the block of cheese to you.
"Mold. I wonder how long it's been back there." He said, and you groaned, seatings yourself on the island in front of him. "Aw bummer, what are you gonna do now?"
Sanji chuckled, placing the block on the counter, "You know we never waste any food love, so now we just salvage it as best we can."
Within minutes, the sizzling of the bread filled the kitchen, and the aroma of melting butter and toasting bread wafted through the air. Sanji's concentration was evident as he flipped the sandwich with precision, ensuring it was golden brown on both sides.
As you reached for the cheese, he swat your hand away, shooing you off the counter.
"Sit down, you need to be more patient cause perfection doesn't rush itself." You huffed, sitting back down at the island, tracing the pattern of the counter.
The sound of ceramics being placed on the counter made you look up, grilled cheese and a mini green cake looking right at you.
"There you go, love. One grilled cheese, as you asked!"
"Mmm, this is amazing, Sanji," you exclaimed, stuffing the food in your mouth, "You really outdid yourself with this one."
Sanji's seemed satisfied as he watched you enjoy the sandwich, retreating to get something from the back.
"I'm glad you like it, love. By the way-" He returned, smaller plate in hand, "- i have something for you to try."
You didn't respond, looking at the mini cake he handed you.
"I'm guessing you're wondering what that is?" He said, and you nodded.
"It's a mini matcha cheesecake. You should try it," He urged you, and you obliged, taking a bite.
"Hmm. It's good..." You replied, wrinkling your nose.
"You're not telling me something," He said,
You glanced at Sanji, "Well, it's good, but it's missing something."
Sanji arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Missing something, you say? What could possibly be missing?"
"Sugar," You replied.
Sanji's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Sugar? You think my cheesecake needs more sugar?"
You nodded, a playful glint in your eye. "Definitely. It's got that nice matcha bitterness, but it needs a little sweetness to balance it out."
Sanji gave you a smile, clearly enjoying the banter. "Sugar would throw off the delicate flavor balance, but let's see if I can meet your sugar quota."
With a flourish, he reached for a small jar of powdered sugar and lightly dusted the cheesecake with it. "Now, give it another try," Sanji said, pushing the plate back to you.
You took another bite. "Mmm, that's much better," you declared with a satisfied smile.
"I guess i just didn't use as much sugar as i usually would, since you're so sweet."
"Don't forget i've got a bit of spice in me too," You rolled your eyes, leaning in closer.
"Indeed," He muttered, sealing the distance between the both of you, kisses tasting with the faintest hint of some kind of sweetness unknown to you.
"Hey Sanji I thought i smelled something really good cooking and- Oh!" You both tore away from each other, Luffy watching you as Zoro stood behind him, annoyance scribbled all over his features.
"First thing i see this morning-"
You hopped off the counter, blowing Sanji a kiss as you ran from the kitchen. Your departure was followed by an angry rupture and laughter, resounding loudly through the halls.
"Wait- You idiot why would you do that?!"
"Well i wasn't the one initiating PDA this early in the morning!"
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