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russellsppttemplates · 1 month

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A red thread tying you to me (Charles Leclerc)

There was something pulling you to him and Charles was ready to act on it

Note: english is not my first language. I loved the blurb and now we have a big piece too!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions the death of reader's father's and Charles' father's deaths

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"The congress is just outside of Milan, the exact city and details are in there", your colleague Lucia offered as she flickered though the pages, "I've been a couple of times before and it's really enriching, I just know you'll love the students and the department head - she was my supervisor for a couple of years".

"It sounds great", you looked at the panel information and then the travel details, "it's such a shame you can't come with me though, but I also wouldn't want to risk your little dude showing up and have me as your midwife", you chuckled as Lucia rubbed her baby bump.

"You're capable of many things, Y/N, but I would prefer if the fate of my baby and my underparts was in the hands of a professional!", she bumped your shoulder, "and the area is really nice too, I'm sure you'll find something to keep you busy during the weekend".

"I have plans, actually, I'll be fine I think", you smiled.

Like Lucia predicted, you had a great time in the conference and the guest lecture you gave was applauded and discussed for nearly an hour after you showed the last slide of the presentation, topics going back and forth until everyone had to absolutely leave the room before the next lecture began. For now, you'd get to enjoy the region, drinking some wine and taking in the views you recognised.

The park where your father used to take you didn't look too different. The slides didn't look rusty anymore, and the swing was a bright red colour as you sat on it once you didn't see any other kid around who might want to use them and let yourself feel the breeze on your face and hair as you kicked your legs in and out. Your father used to make you feel like you could touch the sky with how high he helped you go, "you're going to touch the clouds, mia piccola stella", he would say and you would laugh loudly.

You missed him every single day, but over the years, your grief allowed you remember all of the happy moments you lived with him, cherishing them close to your heart. Spending the whole weekend in Monza and attending the race was something you hadn't done without him since he passed away. The circuit was your father's favourite - "it's the fans, Y/N, there's a thrill in the air that no other circuit has - Tifosi cover the streets, they're all you can see around town and it's magical almost" he would say to you, so when you noticed the conference was in the area and coincided with the Grand Prix weekend, both you and your mother agreed you should take the opportunity.

On your way back to the hotel, you stopped by the track, wondering what the preparations for a race weekend looked like after so many years. You still followed the sport, but you never got the chance to catch this on television.

"Oh my, oh my", you heard someone say beside where you were standing, "I can't believe my eyes, it's Y/N Y/L/N".

Turning around you spotted Salvatore, one of the mechanics your father worked with. He also had kids around your age and you would often play together whenever you were both in the garage for the weekend.

"Salvatore!", you cheered, giving him a big smile after kissing each of his cheeks, "you better believe your eyes then".

"It's been so long since I've seen you last", he recalled, rubbing your back softly. You and your mother had gone to Maranello for a tribute ceremony the team had for your father - that had been the last time he saw you.

"It has been, yes - I'm sorry", you apoligised. You told the team you'd be around and so much had happened since and you only watched it through a screen instead of living it in the flesh.

"It's okay, it was the time you needed - What brought you to Monza this weekend?", he wondered as he walked inside the paddock with you, scanning his card and getting you both in.

"A work trip actually - I finished a conference yesterday and I also gave a lecture at the university", you nodded, "and my father always loved Monza", you smiled at the memory, "he knew how cliché that sounded, but he always said there wasn't a better weekend on the calendar. And I've missed the rush, too", you offered, letting the tears flow freely and accepting them even though you were in the middle of the paddock, loud noises coming from every angle as the teams prepared the finishing touches for the upcoming race.

"He's very proud of you, I'm sure", Salvatore comforted, "and everyone will be happy to see you here - the little girl with the high pigtails is a grown woman now who attends conferences and gives lectures, who would've known?", he joked as you stepped inside the garage.

"Is this little troublemaker Y/N Y/L/N?", one of the oldest mechanics said after he applied a sticker to the halo.

When your father took you to the races, everyone knew they had fun guaranteed with you, always pulling pranks and laughing loudly, "my troublemaker days are over, I'm a responsible woman now", you chuckled, giving a quick wave to everyone before greeting everyone individually.

"Do you have tickets for this weekend?", Fred asked. Even though he had just met you, it was clear to him how much you mattered to everyone who worked with your father, "we can get you a pass, I'm sure".

"I have grandstand tickets", you stated.

"Silvia!", the team principal called the woman, making her approach him and rub your arm kindly, "do we have any guest passes left?".

"Let me check", Silvia mumbled, "we have one left, actually! Charles didn't even notice he asked us to save a ticket for his mother twice - I'll get it for you, it's in the meeting room upstairs", she smiled.

"Charles will also be very happy to see you around, did you tell him you were coming?", Salvatore mentioned.

"I haven't actually - I've been really busy", you mumbled.

You met the monégasque driver when he was Scuderia Ferrari's development driver and Prema Racing driver in Formula Two, accidentally running into him in the dining area of the hospitality and ending up spending most of his free time there throughout the whole weekend.

Quickly, it became a tradition to do so whenever he was over and whenever he was done with his Formula Two duties and you happened to be at the same track.

When you stopped attending races because the memories were too painful, you lost contact, opting to react to eachother's Instagram stories every now and again and sending quick messages through the social media app.

"The boys arrive today, but they're only coming to the track tomorrow", Fred added, "you'll have plenty of time to catch up".

Charles had finally arrived to the hotel after all the flights and drives, thankful that there weren't many fans around already and he could get inside without a hitch, checking in and getting his room keys.

"Hold it, per favore!", he said to the person on the lift, dreaming of the changing from his travel outfit and the bed waiting for him. When his hand helped him inside the metal door, he couldn't believe his eyes, "Y/N?".

He could remember the last time he saw you. He had just started his first season as a Formula One driver for Alfa Romeo and you had come back to the paddock for the first race of the season like you promised you would. He sat with you whenever he had a little break, you caught up with him and his early days as a driver with a seat rather than just watching from the sidelines.

"Charles, hi!", you gasped, hugging him and feeling him squeeze your body against his.

"I- what are you doing here? Are you here for the race?", he wondered. This couldn't be a mere coincidence. He hoped it wasn't.

"I had a work trip here that coincided with this weekend, and I thought of it as a sign", you explained, "you're staying in this hotel too?".

"Yes, the team are at the one where we usually stay for the weekend, but until Thursday, I'm staying here, yes", he smiled, "Goodness, I feel like it's both been forever and like it was yesterday", he chuckled, "do you want to get a drink? I have a nice selection in my room whenever I stay", he offered.

"I'd love to, Charles", you said, hoping that the tingly feeling on your tummy mirrored Charles' own excitement at this unexpected but valued encounter, "are you sure though? You just arrived".

"No, don't worry about that! My room is... 705", he checked on the card he was handed, "so you can join me now or maybe you want to set those things down first and meet me there?", he pointed to the bag you were carrying.

"Yes, this is quite heavy actually", you blushed, "my room is on this floor, so I'll meet in your room in fifteen? I need to freshen up because I've been walking around town all day".

Leaving the elevator on your floor, Charles waved at your before the doors closed andyou headed to your door. Stepping inside, you left the totebag with the books you bought in the chair before heading to the bathroom, brushing out any tangles in your hair and splashing your face with water to freshen up.

After getting yourself ready to go, you went up to Charles' floor, knocking on the door and waiting for him.

"Come in, come in!", Charles offered after he opened the door, "I've unpacked but kept it very organised still", he chuckled as you walked inside the room. It looked the same as yours did, only a different colour pallette for the decoration.

"How have you been?", you wondered once you sat down and shared some sparkling water, neither of you really feeling like drinking anything alcoholic.

"You surely know more about me than I know about you", Charles smiled, "but it's been good, this season has been great so far, I feel like we're in a really good path and things are working well", he took a sip from his cup, "the team have done such an incredible job".

"And the driver on the car doesn't have anything to do with that?", you squinted at his ever so modest take on things.

"I suppose I do", he blushed.

"I may have not been here, but I've watched every race - minus some of the ones at daft o'clock, I only watched those when my sleep was all messed up", you joked, "you're an essential part of this team, Charles, everyone can see that so you should give yourself more credit", you touched his arm.

Even though it had been years since you last saw eachother, you hit it off immediately and it seemed like no time had passed.

"And you? What is this work trip that brought you here?", Charles nodded.

"You're not the only one who gets to travel for work, alright?", you tsked, "I had to do a presentation on a conference and then the department invited me for a lecture, nothing big".

"Who's being ever so modest now, hm? That is fantastic, mon ange!", he congratulated before he noticed the words coming out of his mouth.

"When I noticed it fell around this weekend, I told my mum and she said that I should try and dip my foot here - I've been wanting to come to race sooner but...", you trailed off.

"I get it - it's hard going to the places that remind you of them", Charles took his hand in yours and squeezed it, "he was so cherished by the team, I'm sure everyone will be very happy to see you".

"Actually, I walked to the track today so I could see it up close before the race - I hoped it wouldn't be such a big shock once I got there on Friday -, and I bumped into Salvatore", you smiled, "he let me go into the garage and I saw everyone, it was really nice", you looked up so the tears on your eyes wouldn't fall.

"I can get you a pass, let me just text Silvia!", Charles said as he got his phone from his pocket with his free hand.

"She already did", you chirped, "apparently you booked two for your mother, so they had a spare one".

"You see, a couple of years ago, my mum was too late to tell me she was coming to the race and I was out of the guest passes, so I always have one on hold for her and I sent the list with her name on it as well", he admitted, "but it seems to have turned out just fine - meant to be even".

You ended up requesting room service for the two of you for dinner, neither feeling like going out of the room after feeling so comfortable there. Conversation was steady, vulnerability was easy to show and the butterflies were happily dancing on your tummy.

"I better get to my room, then", you stated once Charles told you about what he needed to do tomorrow once he was at the track.

"I didn't mean it that way - I'm fine!", he said after doing his best attempt at containing a big yawn, "I'm fine!".

"You're tired, and frankly so am I", you admitted as you got up from the bed.

"Would you like to come with me to the track tomorrow? If you don't have other plans that is", he mumbled the last part.

"I don't - I was just going to work a little bit, but if you find me a spot in the hospitality, I'll happily take my stuff there", you smiled reassuringly as you put on your shoes and headed to the door.

"I can take you to your room", Charles got up from the bed and followed you.

"No need, my room is just downstairs", you reasoned, kissing his cheek in a silent thank you still.

"That's right - so we'll go tomorrow after breakfast?", he rested his body on the door once you opened it.

"Yes, that works for me! Good night, Charles", you smiled before walking up to the elevator.

Walking inside the hospitalitynwith Salvatore and the rest of the team, he was quick to show you where you could set up.

"Charles likes to spend as much time as possible with the fans and it's right about now that they start becoming more and more and they're everywhere, too", he explained as he helped you in the table on the lounge area, "there's food and coffee in there if you need anything", Salvatore smiled, "if you need anything, just ask someone".

"Thank you - this is perfect", you assured, sitting down and working on your laptop and reading some of the books you had bought.

Charles and Carlos finally arrived at the hospitality, greeting the team and talking to them for a while before they headed upstairs for a meeting.

"You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend and you were bringing her here", Carlos told Charles as he poured some coffee on a mug after the meeting.

"I don't - I haven't brought a girlfriend here", Charles quirked an eyebrow at his team-mate.

"So who is that young woman you just smiled at and are pouring coffee for after giving her the heart eyes?", it was the spanish driver's turn to raise his eyebrows.

"Oh, Y/N!", Charles smiled as he mentioned your name, "she's an old friend! Her father was a mechanic before he passed away a few years ago - the older team members have known her since she was little, everyone loves her", he mused.

"Everyone loves her - I can see that", Carlos chuckled as he followed Charles to the table.

"We don't want to interrupt or disturb you too much", Charles announced as he set the mug next to your laptop.

"It's fine, sit sit!", you encouraged as you closed the books you no longer needed to make room for them, "I'm Y/N", you told Carlos.

"I'm Carlos", he smiled back, "nice to meet you", he said before you dove into conversation, discussing anything that popped into your minds and getting to know eachother.

"Don't let her fool you into believing she has always been a responsible, put together girl because she used to steal and hide all of our tools!", Antonio, one of the engineers pointed at you after he got himself a bottle of water, "Charles knows her tricks already but you, Carlos, don't fall for that!".

"You loved it every time I was on the computers and drew on Paint! You even had one of my drawings as the background for almost an entire season!", you threw at him as he approached you, patting the top of your head protectively.

"I'd like to see that! I've only known her since she was way older", Charles pouted.

"Jealous much?", Carlos teased, his voice above a whisper as Charles seemed to get flustered.

"Is it really that obvious?", the monégasque driver mumbled once you got up to get something to eat, "I've had a crush on her since I was a development driver".

"Why have you never said anything? She seems like she really cares about you too", Carlos mused as he thought to a few moments before where you too gqve him heart eyes. He would have to be blind to not notice it, and even then the energy between you too would still be felt.

"The timing wasn't right, I guess - her father passed away almost right after as I became a driver for Alfa Romeo, and she hasn't been in the paddock since. We have texted every now and again over the years and now she happened to be here for the race too", Charles offered.

"I'd say you should take a shot - trust me, she likes you back", Carlos patted Charles' shoulder after getting up, watching you go back to the table with a big smile on your face.

After Charles took pole position in qualifying, the team stayed a bit longer for the debrief, going over a few points of the discussion and the changes they still needed to make before the race.

"Y/N! We're having dinner at one of our favourite restaurants in town and I'm counting you in, okay?", Charles said as he spotted you in the garage, followed by Andrea, who had been keeping you company along with his brothers, Charlotte and Pascale.

"Your family is here for you, Charles, I don't want to intrude", you said as you got up, unaware of the Leclerc matriarch behind you.

"Chérie, of course you won't be intruding - we'd love to have you there!", Pascale chirped in.

"Well, in that case...!", you smiled, "just tell me where I should go and at what time, or are we going straight there?", you wondered.

"I was thinking we could go straight there if that's okay with you - you can can come with me and Andrea can ride with my brothers", Charles suggested, "unless you need to go back to the hotel", he quickly scrambled.

"No, I'm fine! Unless this outfit is not restaurant appropriate", you muttered as you looked down. Against all odds, you managed to not get any food stains on your dress. It was a midi skirt cut, flowy to allow your body to feel cool considering the warm Italian day.

"It's fine - you're fine, you look beautiful!", Charles was quick to assure you.

"Good, that's good then", you smiled before excusing yourself to go and get your things.

"You have to tell her, Charles - your affection is no use to either of you if you keept it in here", Pascale tapped her son's chest.

"Y/N", Charles called you before he had to go and get ready for the race, "I have something for you - we do", he said as some of the mechanics, including Salvatore, followed him.

"Oh, what is it?", you smiled.

"We commented with some guys back at the factory that you were here with is this weekend and they found something we thought you'd like to have", Salvatore said as he handed you a bag.

Looking inside, you noticed an old Ferrari cap and some embroidered lettering on the side, recognising it immediately. When you were a teenager, you decided to try different hobbies and hand embroidery was the one that stuck the most, so much so that on one of the race weekends, you embroidered caps for everyone on the team that asked you.

"My wife remembered the one I have at home and then the guys at Maranello found your father's and apparently one you did for Charles' as well", Salvatore offered as you took them both out.

"Dad always said he had plenty of embroidered things at home and this one was the one he had to travel with him", you chuckled as tears welled up in your eyes, feeling Charles soothingly rub your back.

"I remember getting this and loving it - I thought I had lost it!", Charles said, unaware if how close he was pulling you together so he could get a peek at the old caps.

"There's some loose string here", you chuckled, wiping the tears and fiddling with the red thread, "I didn't know how to properly tie it at the start, I kept losing it - I think I even glued it down at some point. Thank you for bringing this out", you smiled.

"Would you mind if I wore this for the driver's parade?", Charles asked you.

"I was planning on wearing my dad's while I watched the race", you offered, testing the fabric and placing it on your head before doing the same with Charles, fixing it on his head and looking up at him.

You never got over how handsome he was. The little scar on his cheek, his mole, the smile that never failed to make you smile, his beautiful green eyes. His kindness, his gentleness, his talent - there wasn't a way to deny how much you liked it. How much you liked him.

"We will be matching then!", Charles squeezed you against him before going to his driver's room.

Only when Charles was headed to take P1 on the grid did he hand the cap back to Salvatore and put on his helmet, giving you a wink before he left.

"How are you feeling?", Pascale asked as she sat next to you to watch the race. Over the last couple of days, she had grown close to you, not only because you had captured her son's heart and she wanted to get to know you, but also because Charles had told her how emotionally charged it was for you to be at the track, in Monza nonetheless.

"It's a lot", you admitted, "everyone has been so kind and warm, so all of the heavy feelings have been slowly infiltrating the good ones and it's been easier to deal with them like that", you blinked away a few tears.

"I get it", Pascale nodded, "losing someone is not easy, and I can't imagine what it feels like for you - the boys and I talk about my late husband every now and again and it gets easier to talk about it, I think that's what it is anyway".

"Yes, definitely like that. My mum and I have reached the point where we don't cry at every mention - despite what you might have noticed this weekend", you chuckled.

"It's emotional, chérie - I, for one, always cry whenever the boys achieve their goals. Hervé isn't here to see them, but I know he knows, and the boys know how proud he is of them", Pascale smiled, keeping some tears at bay too.

"You raised amazing young men, don't doubt that", you let out. At this point, you were sure she had noticed or had at least an inkling. As any mechanic for the red team who knew you since you were a kid would say, you were never a good liar - anytime you said you didn't touch something, they knew to look in your backpack first.

"Thank you, dear", she added, "you know, Charles is quite careful in who he lets in, but he's never been good at hiding how much he cares about someone and I can tell he cares a great deal about you".

"I care a lot about him too", you smiled before you were handed a pair of headphones each with the race about to start.

When Charles successfully kept the cars behind him away with a good gap, you clapped and watched the remaining laps number get smaller and smaller until there was only the current lap left.

Charlotte held your hand together with hers as you watched Charles be the first driver to see the checkered flag and when Xavi yelled "And P1!" into the radio, you did your happy dance, not having a care in the world about what others thought as you watched the Tifosi erupt in cheer.

"He did it! He did it!", Pascale clapped for her son, Arthur hugging her while Lorenzo did the same with his girlfriend while you softly touched your father's embroidered name on your cap with your fingers.

Running up to Parc Fermé, you stood in the sea of red, waiting for him to come back and hug them.

"You did so well, congratulations!", you said as you pulled Charles for a hug.

"Had my good luck charm with me!", he smiled back, kissing your cheek as he took advantage of you being shielded by the mechanics and engineers.

The team celebratory dinner was going really well, everyone happy with how the weekend panned out with both drivers on the podium and enjoying the meal on the restaurant's outside patio.

"If you guys want dessert, they're going to set them out on that table and you can grab as much as you like", Fred spread the message as you could see all kinds of sweet foods being brought out, a pudding catching your eye along with some raspberries.

You and Charles got the dessert plates and served yourselves, noticing the staff was already clearing up the tables, meaning you'd have to move to the bar area, many people opting to skip dessert and get some drinks instead.

"You can see the stars so clearly tonight", you mused as you looked up at the sky, setting your plate on the high table.

"My father always said that the stars did shine brighter here, and tonight the sky is very clear", Charles hummed in agreement, looking at your face. The moonlight and the dim lighting for the lamps and fairy lights illuminated all your features perfectly - your smile as you looked up formed the dimples on your cheeks, your eyes that were a tiny bit squinty and the way your whole body seemed relaxed.

The goosebumps on your arms caught his eye though, "here, have this", Charles said as he offered you the cardigan he had carried around all night since according to him his mother made him do it because it would be cold.

"Thanks", you smiled as you pulled the sleeves and folded them around your wrist so they would fit better, "this is really comfy, I might steal this if you don't ask for it back", you joked.

"I don't mind if you keep it, you have had my heart all these years", Charles stated. There it was.

"What?", you faced him, heart beating fast inside your chest.

"It's true, I've had a crush on you since I first met you, and these past couple of days have been amazing, and I can't believe it took me all these years to realize how I truly feel about you Y/N", he told you, no stutter or sign of regret on his face.

"I haven't been around, really, it's my fault", you fiddled with your thumbs before looking at him again, "but I can't lose you again".

"You never lost me, amour", he smiled as his eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, his hand cupping your cheek your mouth pressed on his, ignoring everything and everyone around you.

Interrupting the kiss for air, Charles giggled as you hid your face in his neck once you heard the cheers and whistles, your lashes tickling him as his arms circled your waist and pulled you closer to him.

"He wins inside the track and outside of it, Charles Leclerc, P1 to Y/N's heart!", Carlos shouted before whistling again.

"Just so you know, I want an invite to your wedding!", Salvatore pointed his finger at you, "I still remember when you invited me for your wedding with Vettel!".

"You and Seb?", Charles chuckled once you pulled away from his neck.

"Sebastian was my favourite when I was little", you giggled, hiding your face on Charles' chest this time, "when he was back in RedBull still, I asked my father to ask him if he could take a photo with me and I cherished that for so many years - it was my most prized possession!".

"I can't promise you Seb, but I can promise you the very best of me", Charles said as he kissed the top of your head.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fluff #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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macfrog · 10 months

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mile high sex on fire chapter three

we're going overseas baby! (this is gonna be a three-parter cause i hyperfixated and couldn't stop myself so BUCKLE UP) author's note: i absolutely do NOT condone the use of private jets. they are GROSS and terrible for the environment and just fucking fly commerical ok? but in this ceo!joel ficland, private jets are fuelled by delusion and emit only clean, pure oxygen. thank you for reading. now, with that in mind, please enjoy reader being railed in a plane cabin. i love u all to paris n back 🤍🥐

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: you accompany joel on a work trip to paris, to eat good food, drink expensive wine, and…get to know each other a little better

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) environmental crime, plane sex, fingering, handjob, unprotected piv sex, daddy kink, joel being a fucking exhibitionist menace, creampie, more gf representation, showering together, softdom!joel, sugardaddy!joel, heavy on the flirting, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), cursing, very ridiculous spending on very ridiculous things, workplace relationship and therefore odd power dynamic yadda yadda yadda

word count: 6.3k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

Joel’s fingers squeeze your hips, his pace quickens even more. “Louder.” “They’re gonna – ah – they’re gonna hear.” “Who?” Joel asks. He knows damn well who. You’re only separated by a thin paneled wall. You’d be fucking surprised if the flight attendants haven’t been hearing you for the last twenty minutes. “Baby,” Joel’s voice coos as he bends forward, sweaty chest flat against your back. His lips line with your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “They get paid not to hear.”

You’ve never been on a work trip with Joel. Usually, he likes to take them alone. Martha told you once about a time a couple years before you started when Joel took an intern to a conference in Canada, and the kid spent the entire first night in the hotel bar, missed the conference the next day, and only just made the flight home, scruff of his neck between Joel’s knuckles.

He racked up a bill of nearly a thousand dollars just on liqueur and finger food. Joel had sworn he’d never take anybody anywhere with him again.

But there’s this client over in Europe he’s due to meet – an annual thing where they sit on the terrace of some luxurious hotel, drink expensive wine that tastes like piss, according to Joel, and have a cock-off over their money and status.

Sounds like fun, right?

You’ve a pretty good idea why he asked you. And he made a pretty convincing pitch: he’d promised you a relaxing weekend. You didn’t have to sit in on any meetings, he’d let you amble around the city by day, take you for a fancy dinner or two at night. All expenses paid. You barely had to lift a finger.

As per the deal, Martha organized the travel documents. Printed them, collated them, handed them to you in a neat little folder with a paperclip on top and a Post-It note with Have fun! written in red ink. You’d slipped it into your bag and followed Joel to his car, nodding to Rand as you ducked under the starlit ceiling.

Joel’s left hand sits around your thigh – because where else would it be? – his right clutching his phone, thumb scrolling as he absentmindedly reads some document. You’re watching the city soar by from behind tinted glass. Before long, it’s the dark green of trees flickering by, and then, canvased by the clear blue sky, an air traffic control tower in the distance.

The Rolls saunters past the main entrance to the airport. You watch it roll by, leaning forward in your seat.

“Wait, what…?”

“What, baby?” Joel asks, looking up from his phone.

You usually knew every fine detail of the plan by heart. It was your job to. But with Martha being in charge of arranging your flight, you’d missed one crucial speck of information this time. And that is –

You’re travelling by private fucking jet.

The car drives across smooth tarmac toward a pointed white plane, bold against the brilliant blue sky behind it. There are four people standing at the bottom of the steps leading into it; what you assume are the two pilots, and two smartly dressed flight attendants.

“How did I never know you had a…?”

Joel smirks. “Never showed you it. C’mon.”

He gets out, strolls around to your door and opens it for you. You’re still gawking at the jet.

“Jeez…” you whisper, hopping out of the car.

“What is it?” he says through a chuckle, leading you across the tarmac.

“I feel so…Everyone looks so…I’m in my fucking sweatpants, Joel.”

He looks at you under low brows, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Like he doesn’t want to hear one more word of it. He holds an arm out; his pinkie bumps into your tummy.

“I think you look beautiful, darlin’.”

It might’ve stopped you in your tracks. Might’ve crumbled the entire airport to dust. Might’ve made the sun drop out of the sky. You’re not sure. You wouldn’t notice if you dropped dead right now.

His words, his soft voice when he says them, send a pang of white noise through your ears, echoing around and bouncing off the walls of your head.

You swallow. Digest what he just said. And do your best to forget all about it.

Joel takes your hand and leads you to the plane steps, helping you up. He follows at your heels. “Thanks, Jerry, Lisa,” he says. You give both pilots a nervous smile as you pass.

The airconditioned cabin chills your arms when you reach the top, twisting around to look back to Joel.

“Go on.” Joel nods, palm ushering you inside.

You step forward and turn right, standing in the doorway to a pristine, white-walled, wooden interior cabin, leather seats dotted against the walls, dark brown glassy tables between them, soft gray carpet at your feet, vacuum cleaner lines still visible. There’s a long plush couch on the left wall, today’s newspaper on the side table next to it.

You feel Joel’s body shell around yours, his chin dips against your ear.

“Like it?”

“Not really. Feelin’ pretty guilty about all the air pollution.”

“How many trees you want me to plant to make up for it?”

You tut. “What are you doin’ in business? You’re so funny.”

You wander off without looking back, heading for one of the window seats.

“Uh,” Joel clears his throat, “there’s a separate cabin up back, too, if you want it.”

“Separate cabin?”

He nods. “’s got a bed. It’s cozy.”

A bed. Of course this asshole has a fucking bed in his private jet.

The pilots file in behind him, dipping into the cockpit. The flight attendants follow, and begin preparing for takeoff. Joel strolls over to the seat opposite yours, giving your legs a nudge under the varnished table when he sits down.

You both click your seatbelts into place, relax, and look out the window as the jet rolls by the airport, heading for the runway. The engine fires up properly, a deep hum you feel rattling up your spine, and then you’re pulled forward, body pushing heavily into the soft leather of your seat.

The plane races down the runway, the grass and trees blurring into a mix of dark and light green, before you’re lifting off the tarmac and into the air, your tummy flipping a little from excitement and maybe some nerves, and…Joel’s gaze on you.

When your eyes meet his, he scans down. Your little black t-shirt, skin tight. The way your breasts rise and fall with your breathing. Down to the waist of your sweatpants, then further down your legs. You know exactly what’s going through his mind.

And, honestly…being on a private jet on your way to a free weekend in Paris, accompanied by the best sex you’ve ever had…? Goes against a couple of your core beliefs about the world, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t on your mind, too.

The flight attendants let you guys know you can unbuckle your belts now, and, like a hive mind, you both unclip them and stand.

“Was gonna go check out that, uh–”

“I’ll show you to it,” Joel cuts in, taking your bag and leading you down the aircraft. He dips his head as he walks, the cabin too small for him to stand straight. You follow like a fucking dog, trying to hide the spring in your step.

Through a door concealed to look like part of the wall is a small room with a double bed, soft white sheets untouched. There’s a little TV on the wall opposite, a small table with another comfy chair by one of the windows, and a rail for hanging up clothes. The shades over the windows are pulled almost all the way down, sunlight splintering through and lining the soft carpet.

Joel wasn’t wrong. It is cozy.

He sets your bag down on the floor and closes the door behind you. You notice he locks it.

The corners of your lips tug, your eyebrows raise. “Might be classier than my bedroom.”

He scoffs, and you turn, falling back onto the bed and kicking your shoes off.

“Alright,” you announce, flat-out on the sheets, “I’m gonna get some shut-eye.”

Joel looks surprised. Almost – offended. “Sh…You’re gonna sleep?”

“’s why you got a bed, ain’t it?”

He narrows his eyes, runs his tongue along the bottom of his teeth. Steps forward. Sticks a knee between yours. “Not exactly.”

You smile up at him. He’s pulling the jacket from his shoulders, plain white tee underneath. He looks so fucking good. The man always looks so fucking good. He tosses the jacket to the floor and bends down over you. Hands pressing deep into the bed either side of your head, torso hovering over yours. Hips just too far away for you to lift yours up to meet them.

You take hold of his wrists. “Then…show me what it’s for.”

Joel looks from your lips to your chest, then back up to your eyes, grinning like a devil. He lifts one hand and his fingers come down to play with the drawstring of your sweatpants, tugging painfully slow on them. You want to whine, but that’d be letting him win too easily.

He loosens the waist and his fingers find the hem of your tee tucked beneath.

“You gonna show me those pretty tits, baby?”

You nod, biting your lip as he peels your top from your body, your back arching, arms splaying out on the bed. Joel uncovers your chest and slips the top over your head, discarding it to the side and leaning back to take the view in.

You didn’t wear a bra today. Wanted to travel in as much comfort as possible.

One of your wiser choices.

“Fuck, darlin’…” he breathes, eyes set on your perky tits, your round, hardened nipples. His reaction sends a fleet of electricity down to your core.

“C’mere,” you whisper, taking his shirt in your fists and dragging him down against your naked torso. And then his hips are there, right against yours, and you grind up into him, feeling his bulging crotch between your legs.

Your fingers dance along the hem of his shirt and he lifts off of you, letting you tug it over his head before his chest is pressed back against yours. You part your lips and he fills your mouth with his tongue, hands in your hair, body grinding against your own. He’s pushing you further up the mattress until you’re both in the center, disturbing the sheets and shifting the cushions decorating the bed.

Joel’s hand trails down your naked stomach and under your pants, cutting past the lace of your underwear to cup your mound, middle finger daring ever lower. You moan and drag your hips forward to edge his fingers further, until they’re dipping between your folds and your body’s rolling with pleasure.

“Yeah,” Joel murmurs, “that’s it, huh? That’s what you want?”

“Uhuh,” you nod, bottom lip between your teeth, eyelashes batting in a plea for him to keep going. Keep fucking going.

His mouth dips between your jaw and your shoulder, teeth picking up your hot skin to suck a bruise while two fingers push inside of you, lifting your back from the mattress and into Joel’s rock-solid body. Some noise escapes his lips, something caught between a laugh and a groan.

“So tight, baby,” he murmurs, drawing a smile across your face.

And then your hands are messing around at his waistband, fingers fumbling with the button. Wanting him in your hands as much as he has you around his own. Needing to feel what you’re doing to him, since he’s well aware of what he’s done to you.

Joel’s hand slips gently out from under your pants and his weight lifts off of you. In the slivers of light streaming through the cabin windows, his silhouette steps back off the bed and shoves the denim down his thighs. His jeans hit the floor and as quick as he left you, he’s back pressing into you again, hard outline of his length nudging against the top of your thigh.

You slip a hand under the elastic of his underwear and take hold of his cock, while he picks up where he left off between your legs. Your lips connect, breathing laughs and pants and desperate moans into each other, hands working to push each other closer and closer…

Joel’s fingers pump in and out, curling just enough to hit your G-spot every time. His thumb’s bumping at your clit, pushing waves of pleasure with each circle. He adds a third finger when you start to gasp, the movement of your fist around his shaft becoming messy and staggered. You’re trying to focus on him, trying to get him there as fast as he’s getting you, but he’s so fucking good at it, and you’re starting to fade out of the cabin.

Your eyes roll shut; head falls back against the bed. You’re still trying to fucking jack him off, as if he’d even let himself cum in your hands before he’s been inside you. But you’re desperately trying not to give him the satisfaction of having you unfold on his hand less than ten minutes into this. Desperately trying not to give in to him and his stupid private jet.

“It’s okay, baby,” Joel whispers in your ear, pressing a delicate kiss to your hair, “you can cum. Do it for me.”

“F-uck you,” you whisper, and you cave.

Let’s put it down to the air pressure when you’re this high up. In fact, let’s just say: you’re on a plane, and you’ve never had anything remotely close to sex on a plane before, and that’s why, when your orgasm bursts through, you cum harder than you think you’ve ever done before. It’s because of how fucking insane this is.

Let’s just say.

You come to with your face buried in the crook of Joel’s neck. His chest is vibrating, Adam’s apple bobbing. You pull back and notice the dimples in his swollen cheeks, the crow’s feet by his eyes, and then…the wide smile spread across his lips.

“That feel good, darlin’?” he asks through a laugh.

You curse at him again, eyes screwing shut. His hand’s still between your legs, slowly moving in and out, lulling you through the tail end of your orgasm. Your hands have deserted their original job; they’re clutching Joel’s shoulders. You don’t even remember grabbing onto him.

“Got somethin’ that’ll make you feel even better,” he breathes, and before you’re fully awake, his hands are on your hips, flipping you over. He drags your pants down your legs, discarding them to the floor beside his.

You sigh when he pulls your ass up into the air, resting your ear on your folded arms. Accepting defeat, or maybe just…letting him do what he does best.

Joel slips your panties to the side and runs his cock up and down your dripping cunt. You flinch, still sensitive, and feel him slow down.

“Gonna make you feel real good, alright?”

“Mhm,” you reply, eyes closing again as he lines up.

It sounds like a bit of a dumb thing to say. Joel makes you feel good every time his hands are on you, without question. Even that first night, in that dive bar, before he’d ever really done anything. His hands sent electricity through your body that you failed all weekend to rid yourself of. But you hear what he’s really saying.

You haven’t had each other yet without someone on the other side of the wall, waiting for one of you. It’s always been a rush, always been about that race to the finish line just to satisfy your needs, and then return to Earth as soon as you’re done.

There’s no need to rush to that finish line this time around. Nobody’s waiting. Joel can do whatever he wants, can fuck you however he likes, and have you under his hand for as long as he wants. As long as you both last.

The bed makes sense now, doesn’t it?

He pushes inside you, thick, hard, full. You gasp, face burying into the comforter, legs spreading to accommodate his size. Your fingers grasp onto the sheets, nails digging into the soft fabric as he fills you up, pulls halfway out, and rocks back in.

“Fuck, Joel,” you cry, and his hips slam into yours.

“Huh?” he asks.

“Daddy,” you correct yourself, still gasping.

“Better.”

Joel pounds into you, strong grip on your waist, pulling you up and down his cock at a punishing pace. His grunts match your whines. Your hand stretches out to grab something – anything – to hold onto, to steady yourself as your body begins to collapse.

“Daddy,” you mewl again, muffled by the cotton of the sheets, like it’s the only word coming to mind. “So – fuckin’ – good.”

“Louder, baby,” he replies, groaning when you tighten around him.

You whimper. “F-fuck, daddy.”

Joel’s fingers squeeze your hips, his pace quickens even more. “Louder.”

“They’re gonna – ah – they’re gonna hear.”

“Who?” Joel asks.

He knows damn well who. You’re only separated by a thin paneled wall. You’d be fucking surprised if the flight attendants haven’t been hearing you for the last twenty minutes.

“Baby,” Joel’s voice coos as he bends forward, sweaty chest flat against your back. His lips line with your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “They get paid not to hear.”

His hips crack into yours again once, and then halt. You cry out, the sudden feeling of him in his entirety, filling you up, pushing right up against your cervix, too much to bear. Too much to be muffled by the mattress beneath you.

“Let – them,” Joel’s hips drag back, slow, leaving you empty, “hear – you.”

He thrusts forward again, painfully, and you moan. Loud. “Ah, daddy,” you cry out again, and you swear Joel’s chest rumbles behind you with a laugh.

“That’s it, good girl. Tell ‘em how good it feels.”

You feel your mind start to slip, the cabin going with it. Your eyes roll closed, your mouth falls open. The only sound escaping your lips a whine, over and over, shaped just like the word daddy, daddy, daddy.

Joel’s forehead rests on the crown of yours, his voice a soft hum at the nape of your neck.

“See? Sound way too pretty to keep quiet, darlin’.”

He’s panting, words spilling out of his mouth between gasps and grunts. Hips are snapping at a grueling pace. You reach for his wrists again, planted in the bed either side of your head, and squeeze as if it might relieve the building tension in the pit of your stomach.

But he’s going so fast, so hard, fucking you dumb. And you can feel him start to falter, when your walls hold him snug, tightening around him as you reach your high.

He cums when you do. You feel him empty inside you as you hurtle through your own orgasm, rippling bliss all around your body. You both cry out, filling the tiny room with groans of pleasure and release together.

Your hips give, fall flat to the mattress, Joel still inside, slowly rocking back and forth, pushing his cum deeper and deeper inside you.

His elbows sink into the bed at your shoulders, caging you under his body as the remnants of your highs wash away. He’s running soft, wet kisses from your neck down the top of your spine. When your body stills, the pulsing of your cunt a mere flutter, he slips out from between your legs and pushes up off of your body.

Joel collapses alongside you atop the tangle of sheets and pillows, skin sticking, bodies thrumming with energy. You roll over to lie next to him. Chests rising and falling in unison, fingers intertwining at your sides. You’re staring at the ceiling, head tilting to rest on Joel’s shoulder, and he places a soft kiss to your hair.

You glance up to look into his brown eyes, lit by the thin rays of bursting sunlight seeping through the windows. The way the light moves across him as the plane turns, brilliant rays sweeping over the horizon and reflecting every angle of his face.

When he notices you, he dips his chin, and you prop yourself up, pressing your lips to his. Joel holds your jaw softly, thumb grazing over your cheekbone. His other hand scoops around your back, holding your body close to his.

“Sleepy,” you mutter, and he nods.

“Get some rest,” he tells you, but you’re already laying your head down on his chest.

Your heavy eyes blink the jet out of view; Joel’s hand stroking your hair sends you off to sleep.

----------

You wake under the white sheets, still wrapped up in Joel’s arms, to the sound of voices on the TV. Some comedy movie. Sounds like Adam Sandler. Joel mutes it when he notices you stirring.

“Afternoon,” he mutters, voice husky.

“Hi,” you reply softly, and his hand runs through your hair. “How long was I out?”

“Only a little while. They’re probably getting ready for lunch. You want me to head out first?”

You nod, suddenly feeling ashamed…and hungry. “Yeah. ‘n can you…make sure they don’t ask?”

“They ain’t gonna ask,” he groans, laughing as you roll off his body and let him up.

You watch as he dresses himself, toned arms pulling his tee over broad shoulders; tan legs slipping back into neat jeans. He slings his jacket over his arm and bends back down over you to let you kiss him again – slow, deep. Something of a thanks, a you’re welcome, maybe. A marker, anyway. A prelude to this weekend.

And then he slips out front. You lock the door behind him and start collecting your clothes, hopping around the cabin as you pull them on.

Before you leave, you grab a hoodie from your bag, feeling a little more exposed than you did when you first boarded. You toss it over your shoulders and open the door.

“Couple more hours,” Joel tells you as you sit opposite him, propping your ankles on his lap. His hands run over your socks, brows furrowing when he notices the pattern. “Bart Simpson?”

“Comfiest socks I own. Good plane socks.”

“Alright.”

“Go on. Make fun of ‘em.”

“I didn’t say anything. You want somethin’ to eat?”

You smirk. “Sure.”

He pours you a glass of water from the metal jug on the table between you both, and one of the attendants appears as if by magic on your right.

“Got you gluten free stuff,” Joel says as you gulp at the ice water.

You almost choke. “Seriously?”

His face twists, confused. Mirroring your astonishment. “Yeah. You think I’d let you starve?”

You almost laugh before you hear it, and realize how sweet it is. You didn’t even know Joel noticed this stuff. Didn’t think it’d be on his radar.

“Thank you,” you whisper, lifting your glass to mask the blush burning across your cheeks.

Joel nods once. Then turns to the attendant and asks for a burger, side of fries, side of onion rings. “We got sweet potato fries, Len?” he asks.

“Think so,” Len replies. “Want them instead? Or both?”

Joel thinks it over for probably two seconds, before he shrugs and says, “Both. Thanks, man.”

Len turns to you, but you’re still staring at Joel. “Unbelievable,” you mutter.

Joel holds his hands out. “I’m hungry.”

You give Len a smile. “What’s…What can I have?”

“We got gluten free flour, bread, pasta, uh…garlic bread for sides, too. And a couple desserts.”

“What the f…?” You stare at Joel. “You didn’t have to–”

“Just order, baby,” Joel says, palm facing you, stopping you from going on.

“I’ll, uh…You do fried chicken?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll have fried chicken, side of fries, and coleslaw, if you have it, please.”

Len nods curtly and heads back up front, leaving you and Joel on your own again. You finish your thought.

“What the fuck?”

He’s chuckling. “What?”

“You…This is…Nothing, you just…you blow my mind, every time.”

Joel shrugs, grinning. “Blow your back out, ‘n all.”

“Alright.” You snatch your ankles from his grasp – Bart’s toothy smirk slipping from between Joel’s fingers – and sit up straight, looking out of the window to the dazzling sky; bright blue on top and fluffy white clouds beneath.

Your food arrives shortly after and the pair of you eat in comfortable silence. Joel checks through his emails, you sit back in your seat with your headphones in. It’s nice, not having a phone to answer or Joel’s schedule to fix. Nicer, still, having him feet away from you, giving you all the attention you could possibly want at the drop of a hat.

You land in Paris at 10PM local time. Straight off the plane and into another sleek, black car, driven by a gray-haired, sharp-suited man named Denis whose hand Joel shakes before climbing in beside you. He slides into the leather seat and you fall against one another, your head on his shoulder. Partition wound up, though neither of you feel much like doing anything that’d require privacy. Your eyes are tired, heavy, you smell like eight hours’ worth of plane, and you’re basically salivating at the thought of collapsing into a huge, soft, clean bed.

Which is exactly what the pair of you do when you reach the hotel. You’re in some extravagant suite picked by Joel; you manage two glances around the dark place before he’s leading you by hand off to the bedroom, cases still parked at the front door.

And before you know it, you’re sinking into the plush sheets of a king-size bed, limbs entangled with Joel’s, city lights twinkling through the window into your sleep-glazed eyes as you drift off.

----------

Day breaks across Paris around seven in the morning. You wake with the blue glow of the sky, dusty pink on the horizon bleeding upward as the sun rises higher. When your eyes open and adjust to the light, you glance over Joel’s still sleeping body and notice the view behind him, split in half by the silhouette of the Eiffel Tower.

The curtains are still pulled back – neither of you noticed nor had the energy to shut them when you arrived. You’re both still in your clothes from yesterday, too. Joel managed to kick off his shoes, and you remember him pulling yours off before he fell into the bed next to you. You didn’t even sleep under the bedsheets.

You push yourself up off the bed, stretching your back and glancing around. This room is fucking nuts. Gold accented – gold handles, gold light switches, gold frames. Pretentious modern art decorating each wall, an upholstered headboard that almost touches the ceiling in front of you. Marble-topped nightstands with spotless silver lamps, glinting in the light.

You roll off of the bed, Bart Simpson socks landing on soft carpet, though his face has been awkwardly twisted around your ankle in your sleep. You shuffle off to a door on the left, leading down a small hallway – past some fancy ornate vase – to the living room: a wide, open space with the same floor-to-ceiling windows as the bedroom, looking out to the same view.

Two velvet couches sit opposite one another, a white marble coffee table sat between. Behind them, a dining table with eight chairs. Gleaming varnished wood. And then, through a couple more doors, a kitchenette with modern white cabinets, a coffee machine, a microwave.

Fucking. Nuts.

You hear Joel stirring in the bedroom and wander back through, dazed with sleep and amazement at this place. He’s rubbing his eyes when you walk in and spring down on top of him on the bed.

“Mornin’,” he grumbles, voice thick and husky. His hands fall onto your thighs, sat either side of his waist, and his eyes flutter open. “You’re energetic.”

“Have you fucking seen this place?”

“I have. Stay here every year.”

You press further into him, feeling a swell in his jeans and doing your best to ignore it.

“Can we go explore?”

“Outside?”

You nod eagerly, despite the way his face screws up.

“Baby,” he sighs, “I’m still in my damn jeans.”

“So, go shower. Get dressed.”

He’s not done protesting. “We travelled for, like, nine hours straight yesterday.”

“’n now we’re here and we ain’t here long, so let’s go do something. C’mon.”

You lace your fingers through Joel’s and pull him up toward you, sitting in his lap on the bed. He buries his face in your chest, mumbling something incoherent into the cotton of your shirt.

You giggle. “Huh? Can’t hear you.”

Joel pulls back with a sigh and rolls his eyes dramatically. “Alright,” he says, “go get ready.”

You leap off of him with a quiet squeal of glee.

As you pace around the suite, dragging your case into the bedroom, fishing some clean clothes and your toothbrush out, practically skipping into the marble-tiled shower room, Joel lays back in bed watching your every move. Smiling, eyebrows lifting with encouragement anytime you look over to him. Head resting back in the crook of his arm, sleepy eyes taking in all of your excitement.

You’re rinsing shampoo out of your hair when he slides into the shower behind you, a quick kiss to your shoulder.

“No sex,” you tell him with a pointed finger, squeezing the lemon scented gel into the palm of your hand.

“No, ma’am,” he says with a smirk, dipping his head to let you lather up the suds in his salt and pepper hair. “So, where we goin’?”

You shrug. “Wherever. Lots to do in Paris.”

“Wanna get you somethin’ nice,” he says, eyes screwed shut as he runs his head under the flow of water, “a thanks for comin’ with me.”

“I think maybe the private jet, the hotel room, plus the free trip in itself is thanks enough, Joel.”

But Joel disagrees. Heartily, apparently.

He takes your hand and helps you out of the car on a tree-lined street, tall cream buildings on either side. It looks like a movie set. You’re following Joel’s lead, spending more time craning your neck to look up at the huge, ornate windows guarded by black balconettes while he guides you across cobblestone toward the smoothly paved sidewalk.

You’re not even paying attention to where he’s taking you until you’re stood in the middle of a glistening store, plush rug under your feet, lavish chairs in the center of the room, a rainbow of fashion surrounding you.

“What…? No, Joel.”

“Hm?” he asks, eyes scanning the room. He takes a step, and you tug on his arm.

“I can’t fucking afford Gucci,” you whisper, pulling his body back against yours.

He hands you a bemused smile, eyebrows low, corners of his lips pulled. “All expenses paid, baby.”

Your arm falls limp and he drags you through the store, past mannequins in patterned gowns and silk shirts, past shelves of obnoxiously huge purses and accessories gleaming in the spotlights from above.

Your fingers stay locked around Joel’s hand, your head swiveling so much you worry it might fall off, looking from the vibrant floral wallpaper down to the spotless tiled floor, glancing politely at attendants and then dipping your head and wandering by them behind Joel.

“See anything?” he asks, turning to you at the opposite end of the store.

It’s ridiculous. This entire trip…is ridiculous, and you’ve only been here twelve hours. Following around at Joel’s heels like a puppy, watching as he clicks his fingers – no, before he even gets the chance to click his fingers – and everything and anything either of you could dream up just…happens. Right in front of you.

He won’t let up. You know him. If you tried to pull him back outside onto the street, he’d buy you something for the hell of it.

You know him. So, you decide to use that to your advantage.

“Gucci…I dunno…” you muse, squinting at him.

“Not your thing?” he asks, and he seems curious, but – you know him. You know that behind that polite mask is a smirk thick enough to make your knees wobble. He knows what you’re doing. “Where to, angel?”

You lead him out of the store. Feel his shadow behind you, watching as you thank the doorman and take a left around the corner, passing under the shade of the gently rustling trees. Arm in arm, you arrive before a huge archway, pristine windows surrounding the door to…

“Dolce & Gabbana…” Joel looks up at the stone writing atop the arch. “Alright. Classy girl.”

You giggle, pulling him past the wrought-iron fence and inside.

It’s sleeker, moodier. Less in your face. Suits you a bit better, though you can’t quite swallow back the guilt that sticks in your throat as you saunter around, Joel right behind you. It catches you when an assistant touches your arm, snapping you out of your daze, and asks if you need anything.

“No, thank you,” you reply, mirroring her smile. “Thank you.”

She nods and floats off.

Joel’s frame shells around yours, dipping his jaw to lean against your shoulder. “What about that one?” His eyes flit up to a mannequin just past a lit table of purses.

“The black one?”

“Mhm.”

“You like that?”

He repeats, a little more exaggerated: “Mhm.”

You shrug. “I do look good in black.”

“Look better in nothin’.” Joel steps forward and takes the tag between two delicate fingers, deliberately hiding it from you. He turns back, lifts his eyebrows in question. “Buy you it if you promise to wear it tonight.”

You smile. This man knows how to barter. And you take no convincing at all.

“Alright,” you accept, “deal.”

----------

Three hours later, you’re strolling down another cobbled street with an ice cream in your hand. And not much else, by the way. Joel’s taken all the shopping bags back to the hotel. He slapped your hand away when you tried to lift one of them from his clutches.

The wind sifts gently through your hair, cooling your face and neck, toying with the hem of the oversized shirt you’re wearing. It flutters the French flags overhead, red, white and blue blowing in the breeze. Cars roll by, engines humming as they weave in and out between one another, horns calling out in the distance.

Joel hadn’t let you come up to the counter to pay with him, had insisted you stay right where you were standing, and when he finished up and laced his fingers through yours, it was like a surge of energy had shot through him.

He led you out of the store and into another, and another, and another…until his hands were wrapped around, what, six bags? All carrying different components of your outfit for tonight.

And then he’d noticed the time – unlocked his phone with a curse under his breath, and kissed your temple. Midday. He was meeting Jean-Marc in an hour.

“You wanna come back with me? Chill at the hotel?” he’d asked, dialing his chauffeur’s number.

“I’m good,” you said, smiling sweetly as he squeezed your shoulder. Then, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed you his card.

“’case you see anything else you want.”

“Joel,” you protested, but he’d shut you up by clicking his teeth and walking off, leaving you to follow after him, shamelessly beaming.

He’d apologized another three times before Denis had pulled up, then once more as he loaded the trunk with your bags.

“See you later. Enjoy your meeting,” you teased, laughing at the way his face twisted into a grimace as the car rolled off.

It’d been a pretty nice afternoon. You’d dipped into a couple more stores – though, without Joel to impress, the low-cut dresses and short miniskirts were somewhat less exciting.

That is, until you passed by a lingerie store. You stood outside for a second, peering by your reflection in the window to study what lay behind. Suddenly lace and satin – and the idea of Joel seeing you in them – seemed a lot more enticing.

You’d pieced together an entire getup: bra, panties, garter belt, even a pair of stockings, and a silk robe to go over the top. You handed over Joel’s card, ignoring the way your cheeks began to heat and focusing instead on how smug you felt, and skipped out of the store, bag in hand.

You’d called Denis five minutes ago to ask for a ride back to the hotel. He called you Madame, he said Nonono every time you apologized for bothering him again, and he promised he’d be there in less than ten minutes.

You pace back and forth along the curb, waiting for the shiny black Maybach to pull up. You’ve checked your phone, like, five times already, kinda hoping there’ll be a text from Joel. You swing the bag between your fingers.

A door swings open behind you, giggles filter out into the street, and you turn to see a couple bounding out of a jewelers, hand in hand. She flicks her left wrist up, tilts it in the sun. It’s hard to ignore the light bouncing off of her ring finger. You feel nauseous at the sight.

Suddenly the Parisian street dissolves, and what sweeps over in replacement is a long, empty lawn, maple trees swaying menacingly in the distance. There’s a blur of bright blue sky, sunrays bursting across your vision. Your hand comes up to shield your eyes, and there he is. There he was.

He was on the grass. You told him to stand up; his suit trousers would be stained green. He did it anyway. Trembling hands, expectant stare. You stuttered and stammered your way through a sentence fueled by shock and horror and…resentment.

And then you did it anyway, too.

The crackle of tires coming to a stop on the road in front drags your fraught gaze from the couple, now strutting off down the avenue. You reach for the door handle, but Denis is already out of the car and leaning down, hand on your back as you duck into the backseat.

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taglist: @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @@isimpforfictionalmen @lizzie-cakes @sarahhxx03 @tobuildahomeinthewoods @whatsliferightnow @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @casa-boiardi @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @cool-iguana @serenaxpedro @brittmb115 @pattwtf @pascalpvnk @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi @gracieispunk @hellishjoel

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

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feathernotes · 6 months

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BACKGROUNDS IN WEBCOMICS

I want to talk about sustainability in your work process, featuring our fave: Backgrounds. How to simplify, convey, and deliver in comics! (examples include Phantomarine, Wychwood, Shaderunners and Ghost Junk Sickness) The usual suspect to burnout is often the workload involved. Many ppl who FULL HAM on pages that def need a detail cut for many reasons Main one being: You don’t need excessive detail to tell whats happening in a small panel, in fact, less is better. When you observe a page in its entirety, where does the eye travel? Where does the eye stop? Having a fully rendered BG in multiple panels can actually be a huge distraction, on top of the time it takes to get there. So how do you balance?

In Phantomarine, the most detailed panel is the establishing one, it holds our characters and allows readers to understand the positions they're all in/standing at. Its one panel that provides a specific telling detail: the railings behind Phae indicate we're on the boat.

In the bottom left panel,the artist uses the railings again, but doesnt have to render the lights, floor boards, or sea to show where we were, then uses the colours of said BG and mood to paint the rest of the page. This is where colours/gradients and small objects save the day! The same example is here, just flipped. The establishing shot shares DETAILS that you need to show the readers where we are, then the BG of Pavel eating food isnt over whelmed with background characters or other details that get in the way of the ACTION that is to be conveyed

it would be rather distracting if we were to see Pavel eat that bowl, with sooo many more details involved in the panel- instead, the drapes, hues of light, and clever sound effects tell us what is happening. Wychwood does the very same with establishing shots, then KEY DETAILS to provide the reader with where the character is standing, without sacrificing the facial expressions and details of the CHARACTERS that we need to get across

Most detail is in the top panel, the BAR that Julian holds onto is a KEY PIECE to show where they are in the BG already established. Perfect use of BG! Get used to thinking of those key details when changing scenes and establishing shots!

Pick those key details to tell the reader where they are and draw that. If you have a library scene, please just draw that BG once! Take a specific bookcase or key feature, use blocked shapes and colours, and make it less detailed than the provided establishing shot. I also wanna talk about : Action Scenes Focusing on the ACTION of the scenes is SO important when you have them, and often details get lost when a creator focuses on details that can distract a reader! My advice? Most action scenes are best without/need little backgrounds. A few shots from Ghost Junk Sickness demonstrate this. We're paying attention to the action- we've been established where we are before, so let's play in the sandbox now.

Have a panel or two peppered in there, with the same principal as above to ground where your character is, but do not add a BG in every panel. It instantly takes away from the action when it's not integrated as well, and it takes SO MUCH MORE TIME to draw that sequence!

Read More amazing tips: Here are some GREAT examples by the creators of ShadeRunners, HERE who break down how they do backgrounds ( AND CROWD SHOTS!!!!)

TL;DR: Comics are a MULTITUDE of skills and needs. It takes a lot of time and work to pull it off, so working with methods that make it easiest for you as the creator is what will help you maintain that momentum and stability you need! Good luck and get comicking!

#webcomics #advice #backgrounds

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nuncscioquidsitamor-13 · 16 days

Text

do you think we'll be in love?

⋆˙⟡♡ (summary): you get a blast from the past when a phone call interrupts your dance practice.

⋆˙⟡♡ (warnings): nothing serious, slight cussing ig

⋆˙⟡♡ (notes): this is a lot fluffier than my piper fic. Nothing serious is gonna happen I think, its def giving romcom. Credit to @ssparksflyy for sparking (hehe pun intended) my inspiration with her post

Masterlist Next

⋆˙⟡♡ (taglist): @kozumesphone @mershellscape @solangelotus @angelscherryblossoms lmk if you want to be added/removed)

"What is my luck?." You grumbled, staring up at the rain that was preventing you from getting to your dance studio.

Normally you walked to the studio since it was only a few blocks away from your apartment. You walked so often, you weren't sure your car had any gas in its tank. The safe option was to just tough it through the rain and hope it wouldn't soak through your leotard and leave you freezing.

Carefully you tucked your phone and keys into your tote bag, covering them with your ballet flats. Then you put on your most oversized hoodie in hopes it would keep you from shivering .

"I am an incredibly strong and smart, independent woman. A little rain won't hurt me." You said to yourself, hoping that little pep talk would hype you enough to rush out and start the journey.

Finally done with being a wimp, you opened the lobby door and sped walked out. You did your best to weave your way through the other city goers, wanting to get out of the rain as quick as possible.

Were you being a tad dramatic? Sure, but everybody needs a little flavor in their lives. It took longer than you would have liked but you finally made it to the studio.

The door squeaked and the floor creaked, noises familiar to your ears. You weren't exactly wealthy, so you couldn't afford to fix up the studio. Then again, it was homey this way. You liked it.

Your bag plopped on the floor and you slipped off your sneakers to trade them for ballet shoes. You weren't teaching today, you had a chance to just dance and be free.

Once you were all set, you turned on the music and just began. It wasn't anything spectacular or crazy but you could feel each moment in the depths of your soul. Like you were painting the world of your feelings, using your body as the brush.

Pirouette after pirouette. Every move and position came straight from your heart. Your feet tracing the words to the song in your soul on the wooden panels on the floor.

Just like a dagger through the heart, a familiar ringtone cuts through the air and slices the moment. You sighed and stopped your dance, allowing yourself to catch a breath.

Then you grabbed your water and paraded over to where your cellphone was stuffed deeply in your bag. Taking a sip of the clear and cold liquid, you answered the call.

"Hello?" You said, wishing your voice sounded even slightly less heavy. It was strange being embarrassed that you had been caught in the middle of a vulnerable moment, even if the person on the other side had no clue. (Unless you had somehow transported into a Scream movie.)

"Hi, this is Piper Mclean. I'm Jason Grace's agent. I'm sure you've heard of him. Anyway, I'm calling to request a meeting with you tomorrow 10 Am sharp." She explained, her voice charming and sweet. It was strange how easily you felt compelled to listen to her. She must be very good at her job

Lava settled in the bottom of your tummy when you heard that name. You hadn't heard about Jason in a long, long time. And you had been grateful for that. Your childhood enemy long forgotten and moved on. So why was he calling? Or rather "his agent" calling?

"Why do you want a meeting with me?" You inquired, unable to leave your curiosities and confusion on your tongue. It was ridiculous; you should have hung up by now.

"It's not something Mr.Grace and I are comfortable discussing on the phone. Please come to the meeting and we'll explain the details further. I'm messaging you the address right now." Ms.Mclean said, and you could almost hear a smirk on her lips. Weird.

Just as you were about to ask another question, she interrupted and said, "I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow."

Then she hung up, leaving you confused as hell. You must have gotten sick from the rain and now you're delirious. Yes, that's the only explanation.

Why else would Jason (eugh) have his agent call you and request a meeting? It's ridiculous.

You went on your phone back into your bag, trying to look up any info you've heard about him throughout the years. He was apparently a famous baseball player and has been known to date around. (How scandalous)

There were a few mentions of a controversy in an article you pulled up, but you couldn't see what it was about. Whatever, why does it matter? You're not going to that meeting anyway!

Something in the back of your mind disagreed. You're going to that meeting, alright.

You consoled yourself, saying it was just to figure out whatever the heck is was Jason wanted from you. Yeah, that's definitely the only reason.

#heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo fandom #pjo hoo toa #pjo series #Amorwrites #jason grace x y/n #jason grace #jason grace x you #x you #x y/n #x you fluff #x y/n fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #multi chap fic #multi chapter

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roxxiies · 15 days

Note

I'm new to the mlbb fandom/game and I developed a crush on Alpha but most of the content here is about Dyrroth and Fredrinn (no hate to the characters or the people who like them, they are both cool) so I was wondering if you could do anything with Alpha? Sfw or nsfw it's all up to you! I just want to see more love for him. Thank you!

ALPHA; Heartwired

fluff, gn!reader, you confess to Alpha here. ALSO thanks for the request!!! There are only like 2 posts abt him i think? huhu, I wasn't sure what you wanted 🥹 so i settled for sfw but it you want nsfw, man ive already got an idea

“So… you can tell what I'm thinking just by staring at me?” You inquired, leaning over the control panel before you. Your wondering eyes were waiting for a response from this new creation your father had worked on.

You weren't supposed to be here, though. Your father has prohibited you from going close to his so-called creation ever since that incident happened. That's the reason why there's a firm glass wall containing him, resulting in separating you two.

Your father once said that once he's adapted to more human behaviour and not to how he was coded, he's going to be a pure threat to humanity. He's too dangerous, your father would warn you endlessly. But you can't help it—you always find yourself yearning to be in his presence. You're kind of betraying your father, but hey, you did feel guilty, but that was quickly thrown to the other side.

Now that his eyes are trained on yours as if scanning your face for each and every detail, he processes the best response you might love to hear.

He murmurs, “Correction. I can detect what someone's current emotions and thoughts are when I scan their expressions. However, know that this is still newly installed on my program.”

You hummed in disappointment but an idea popped in your head. He watched your every move as you ducked to grab something and pulled out a clipboard with a smile on your face. “Here we go! I could help you improve it, start by scanning my face.”

The tech behind the glass wall was hesitant, thinking that following someone else's order other than his master might result in disloyalty. However, as he weighs his options, something in the back of his mind tells him to obey you. He tries to reason that maybe it's because you're his master's daughter or someone who genuinely makes him feel a little more human.

You stood still as you patiently watched him scan you. Though, midway through scanning, he stops and clears his throat again—like he found something he shouldn't have—then he continues, “Scan completed. You currently have emotions of curiosity, nervousness, and a strong sense of affection…?”

You immediately pull back to cover your face with the clipboard in your hands, and sheepishly laugh, “I– uh, cough really? You could tell all that by simply looking at m-me?” You tumble in your words as red hues spread across your face, embarrassment evident in your tone.

“I do. And... May I ask, where are these emotions towards to?” He hesitantly asked, afraid he might be overstepping your boundaries but also disappointed as to why you have to cover your face suddenly. He leans over the glass, “May I also ask why you're hiding your face?”

You hesitantly lower the clipboard so that your eyes can only be seen, but your eyes were still not meeting his, which causes him to frown. You mumbled, “It’s complicated... and stupid too.”

“What kind of thought would seem stupid to the smart daughter of my creator?”

Your cheeks flushed red again. You felt a bit delirious—was the man in front of you flirting, or was it something else entirely?

He stared worriedly, clearly not wanting to cause you more embarrassment. "I didn't mean to intrude," he whispered. "If you can't tell me, then it's alrig—”

“No!” You instantly covered your mouth, both of you were shocked by your outburst. You quickly tried to compose yourself. “I’m sorry, but I've had this strange feeling for you ever since my father introduced us—a-and I know it sounds silly. It's just... You were there one moment and then gone the next. If it weren't for you, I would have died in that breakout.”

You covered your face with your hands, hoping for the answer you were praying for. Instead, there was a deafening silence that made you wish you could just bury yourself alive. Soon, tears threatened to drop to your cheeks.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered lowly. “Please don't.”

He groaned, and you gathered every bit of willpower to look at him, bracing yourself for a disgusted or pitiful expression. But instead, he was covering the lower half of his face with his hand, his cheeks flushed red. As if a normal human blushing.

He spoke slowly. "You... I mean, I was afraid I would make a fool of myself if I were the one confessing to you. But it seems you're feeling the same way... I mean—who could resist you? I-I sorry, what I mean…”

You sniffed and suddenly burst into laughter, shaking off the embarrassing emotions from earlier. Alpha felt relieved to see you joyful again. He couldn't help but smile unconsciously, loving the sound of your laughter.

You paused to take a deep breath, and your eyes searched for his, filled with adoration for you alone. Your lips curled into a melancholic smile. "If only I could free you from their doing," you murmured, "I wouldn't hesitate for a second.”

He chuckled quietly. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, to save you from my master's scolding." But then he looked a bit worried, "However, um, I might not be able to love you like a true human could.”

You let out a hum, nodding in understanding as you processed his words. A warm smile spread across your face as you looked at him. "Don't worry," you reassured him, your voice gentle. "I'll be here to guide you every step of the way."

He stared at you for a moment, feeling grateful to have someone like you around, and it seemed like he was amazed by what you were offering. You watched as he reached out, placing his hands flat on the other side of the glass wall. "That would be great," he said. "But if it ever gets too much for you, just let me know, okay?”

You let out a sigh, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders as you placed your hand where he was on the other side of the glass. He leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "Let's just enjoy this moment for now," he said softly.

roxxiies © likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡

#roxxiies #mlbb #mlbb x reader #mobile legends bang bang #mobile legends band bang x reader #📋 :: r’mail #alpha x reader #alpha x reader mlbb

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i-want-men-i-cant-have · 6 months

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𝓈𝒾𝓍𝒾è𝓂𝑒 𝒿𝑜𝓊𝓇. 𝓈𝓃𝑜𝓌𝓂𝒶𝓃.

✿ summary: getting kalim away from jamil for a minute to let him try out snow for the first time wasn't that easy but still the most fun you’ve had in a while

✿ ft: kalim al asim

you didn't know exactly how you met kalim. it was your first year at night raven, and he just randomly appeared. it just sort of happened. first year and first year.

but whenever you were with him, all your worries and anxiety drifted away. his cheerfulness and kind personality were nothing like you’d seen before. it was so different from everyone else at nrc. it was like he should’ve gone to rsa.

“i’ll take care of him, jamil! don’t worry your pretty head off!” he was frozen, with a look you rarely get to see from his stoic features. his face, however, was something you wanted to take a picture of. his jaw dropped, small irises, brows raised higher than the empire state building.

but you had to book it down the hall with the white-haired male before jamil chased after you both. the cry of crewel telling him off for ‘using the bathroom’ made you want to snicker, but you had something more important on your mind.

you always wanted to repay kalim. he was the first person to make you feel something at this school. it was a little of an exaggeration. you did feel stress, anxiety, pity, fear, all these emotions. but he was the only one to make you feel something different. something light and airy. something that didn't want to make you drown your head in a bog of muddy water.

the idea of repaying him came to you when he told you he’s never seen snow before.

“never?”

“never!” he sounded happy, it was strange. he always kept a smile on his face no matter what. it scared you at first, how he always was so… upbeat. you thought he was lying, going to backstab you. but no. he was just a nice person. it was unusual. “we don’t have snow in the scalding sands.”

so you made sure to try and track the weather, even asking the strange upperclassmen with a blonde bob. you had heard he was good at that sort of thing, so you asked him every week. he did get a little more than agitated when it was so hot you were practically sweating through your shirt. “abruti, do you truly think it is going to snow in this weather?” you avoided him for a month after that.

but he did warn you after a while that it seemed like it was going to snow. so you waited and waited for that snow to fall onto the lush grass. for the window panel to glaze over, and with a finger draw small designs onto the see-through surface. for the clouds to look heavier than usual. for the voices to echo in the halls more than usual.

and once the snow reached the tops of your shoes, you ran to find him. he didn't have a class right now, so you did what any sane friend would do. pull him out, cover his eyes, and run for it.

“ok, you can open your eyes now.” you had placed your hands over his eyes, standing behind him, bringing him to the woods behind the campus so you could feel that chill and nip of the air and to have some privacy. you released your hands, moving them to your side, admittedly regretting not putting them on his shoulders.

he looked like a child, eyes bright and wide, taking everything in. “[y/n]! thank you!” he turned to hug you, arms wrapping around your uniform and body hugging you tight. you wished you could stay like this forever, stop time and just stay in this moment. your nose was smudged into his shoulder, letting you embarrassingly take in a small sniff of his cologne. it all happened in one second before he was running towards the snow, but you grabbed his hand before he could go any further.

“wait! you need these. i don’t know what jamil would do to me if your fingers fell off.” you handed him a pair of mittens, mittens that matched your own, the ones you were currently wearing. a subtle detail he did notice.

“we’re matching!” he slipped on the gloves with a tongue poking out of his lips and grabbed your own, sliding his hand into yours and squeezing. the feeling made you silently wish you both didn’t have that fabric shielding your skin. “they’re so cute! thank you!” and just like that your face got hot.

he dropped your hand and ran towards a large pile of snow, belly flopping into it with loud giggles. “you have to join me!” he yelled towards you, turning over with the snow perfectly reflecting the light onto his face.

“i’ll just stay and watch. it’s fine, honestly.” but he was determined and got up, a serious face you’ve never seen on him. he almost looked… mad?

“i won’t let my friend just sit and watch.” for the second time today, he grabbed your hand and pushed you into his body, falling backward so you would land on him.

“kalim?!” with a scream you fell into his chest, hitting the snow. the layer of snow was high and fluffy, but still, he could have landed on a rock. what if jamil came after you? what if kalim’s whole family came after you? what if-

“what’s with that face?” he laughed at how distressed you looked, reaching up to cup your face and push a piece of hair behind your ear. “you should live in the moment.”

“right…”

“i will live in the moment!” he reached to grab your cheeks, smooshing them together with a determined look on his face.

“huh?”

“i will live in the moment!” he repeated.

“i will live in the moment?”

“i will live in the moment!”

“i will live in the moment-!”

finally, enthusiasm from him rubbed off on you letting you laugh, and he released your cheeks.

“what do you want to do?” he asked, still beneath you looking as excited as ever.

“a snowman.” you told him, some of his enthusiasm rubbing off on you.

“a man made out of snow? what type of magic is that?”

“there’s no magic involved,” you laughed, getting up and giving him a hand. “it’s just three large balls of snow on top of each other.”

he looked more excited than ever, following you like a puppy as you moved to a random patch of snow. “so you would,” you bend down and start smoosh the snow together, “push them together to get a ball.”

he watched you with his full attention, eyes scanning every movement you made until you finally finished with a semi-large ball of snow reaching below your knees. when you turned to look at him, he got on his knees and repeated your movements making the snowball smaller than yours, “like this?” he asked, packing some more ice onto the ball as an added glue formula.

“you’re a natural!” you smiled, seeing his face light up brighter than Christmas lights. “we just need one more now.”

“mm!” he got up to slot himself behind you, arms cradling yours until he reached your hands and grabbed them with his own. “we both made one so we should make the last one together!”

he helped you shape and form the ball, patting and cotting areas so it wouldn't collapse. finally, you placed the head onto the body, and he paused momentarily before pulling away.

“wait here,” you told him before rushing to grab two branches and coming back. you inserted them onto the sides and took a step back. “it usually needs more like a hat, but we don’t have any of that right now.”

“huh?” he asked, confused. “we have a hat.”

“what?” you turned more than a little confused before seeing where he was pointing. a purple hat with a feather attached was placed in the snow next to a large tree. how did it appear there? there weren't any footprints. “that works, i guess.”

finally, you had your snowman. it was leaning to its right, almost falling down, with the lavish hat that almost looked identical to the one the man who helped you wore.

“do you like it?”

“of course i do! it was practice for our future kids!”

“what-?”

#rook as cupid #x reader #kalim #kalim al asim #kalim x reader #kalim x you #kalim x yn #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader

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tearsucry · 11 months

Note

Sub step-sister Anika kayoko?

— °˖ ⊹ ꒰ 🧩 ꒱ loving your step-sister ; anika kayoko (scream vi)

#. it sounded sick to be in love with your stepsister, but some things are just undeniable and out of your control

content warning; MDNI, nsfw and dark content, female-bodied reader, stepsister! anika, step-cest, reader and anika are not actually blood-related, bottom/top dynamics, very sappy something, fingering, couch sex

a/n. I got a little sappy and loving in this, idk what triggered it but I let it flow so I hope you guys like it !!!

out of pure curiosity, that’s how it all started back a few years ago when the both of you were just inexperienced teenagers, seeking help of how to kiss, how to explore the body of the person you were drowning in love with. the tree house was the best place to do it, no parents, no neighbors being able to see, and your parents would be nothing but happy knowing that the two of you are bonding instead of fighting all the time.

this moment brings back many memories, as you stand under the now withered tree house, just gazing at the rotting wood panels and ladder, the green and yellow spots of tree mold climbing up and around the branches and the footing of the house.

and so, when inside you spot her on the couch, trying to fall asleep during her tv show as it was a filler episode you have already seen when it came out a week ago. you watch her eyes, half lidded and struggling to stay open, head tipping over from her palm like she is a second away from passing out. dilated pupils, burning fingertips, and a lungs heavy with the weight of rushed breaths, you tip toe over her side like a creep, standing over her tantalized by her beauty.

“anika…” you breath, eyes stuck on her stomach for a second before climbing up to where her crop top creased, stopping just below her breast but still revealing that she wasn’t wearing any bra under.

it takes a second for her to realize you are there, breathing over her like she is a rabbit, and you are a fox, ready to catch her, snap her neck like a dried twig. “what’s up?” she asks innocently, eyes almost shining with anticipation while she reaches onto the coffee table so she can put the remote down and make some room for you.

“do you remember out first time up in the tree house?” you ask, flushed cheeks should already be a hint at what you are talking about, but you guess that the innocent and boring episode pulled her mind out of the connection making mode. “yeah, we started fighting about what color the inside should be. I wanted flowers and pink and you wanted blue and clouds.” she laughs a little, rolling onto her back as you take a seat next to her. you chuckle alongside, wiping your forehead as you struggle to express what you really mean.

“no I meant… that first time.”

anika chuckles once again, nodding her head before pushing herself up to sit and lean against the arm rest of the couch, her hand coming to take yours and rub a few gentle circle into the back of your palm with her thumb. she hums, biting her lips before taking a deep breath but not looking at you just staring forward. it’s that you realize that she thinks about it too, once in a while if not all the time and everyday like you do. every little detail, every little move, and sound that you made when up there, so young and so naïve, so reckless.

“i think I can never forget it.” it didn’t sound eager or egoistic, it was sincere and heartfelt, coming from deep in her chest as she muttered every letter. a shiver rans down your spine, shaking your very core as you feel her touch climbing along your arm and up to you neck, cradling it ever so gently before bringing you down for a kiss.

it was odd, for so many weeks and months you found it so odd when you looked at your stepsister there wasn’t an overwhelming anger towards her but rather your heart clutched, and stomach filled with butterflies. the smiles she gave you drove you wild in every sense of the word- animalistic, crazy, drunk on lust, out of control, and overcame with happiness.

you take in her lips, the warmth of the air she gasps when the two of you pull away before embracing each other against the giant pillow on the couch. you move on top of her, knees on either side of her as one hand kept you above her and the other palmed her through her top. anika shudders, moaning into the kiss and letting you slip your tongue past her lips.

what does this mean? that was all that you could think about when you first let her kiss you, when it wasn’t just curiosity but the first time you knew exactly what to do. she needed help after her breakup with this girl- you never really liked her anyway, she was too pushy, too stand off-ish- and you helped her a lot, through out a few days, every next one riskier than the one before. you never complained, not even when you were too tired to do anything or was still cramping from the previous session.

but now you knew everything you needed to, everything that wasn’t just to please her but please you too because whatever you had now was unspoken, forbidden from everyone else but the two of you. they would never be able to understand how much you felt for each other, how much it mattered to stay by one another’s side in this cruel world that led you to each other. this wasn’t obsession or an opportunity to feel something more than the creeping feeling of mortality- it was love.

“I love you…” your mouth moves to her throat, murmuring the confession for the hundredth time as your hand finally reaches from her chest to her jean shorts to unbutton and clumsily push it down just barely revealing the heat between anika’s legs.

“I love you too.” she is more confident than you are, her words doesn’t shake like yours even when your fingers dip under her panties and start rubbing her clit in slow, tight circles.

you are still awake, still coherent, and she could see you were still thinking hard about something you want to say but cannot find the right words to say, which makes it that much harder for her not to smile. you keep kissing her skin, her hand rubbing your back, making sure you will be okay enough to tell her what you want to.

it didn't matter if you said this is a mistake, or that you cannot control this desire that is so unorthodox that if people knew none of you would have any family or friends left.

"i know i am not supposed to be saying these things to you but..." your voice chokes back a bit as your head falls onto her shoulder, sighing deeply. "i think i might actually die from wanting to be with you."

“i will never leave you.” she says, pressing a small kiss to your exposed skin. it’s the first time you hear those words come out of her mouth. it's a little shaky now, anika's skin blooming with goosebumps as your hot breath fans her ears when you move your head.

you don't waste any time now and slip your finger inside her, only just one and pump it inside her, long trusts in and out, spreading her slick over her lips. she lets out a groan, hands coming up to tug on your hair, pulling on your locks and moan out the words she has been holding in. “fuck.” she breathes, her hand tightening in your hair as you continue pumping your finger in and out, moving fast and hard, surprising her by pushing another finger inside her.

“please...” she whispers, hips bucking as her toes curl, her thighs clenching tighter around your wrist. “please don’t stop.”

the thought of having your first time in the tree house was supposed to be the last thing on your mind, following the memory of your clumsy strokes inside her. you wanted to keep this memory close to your heart, keep it forever locked inside. you couldn’t explain how much it affected you, that it still affects you and yet you don’t feel any disgust, no remorse.

"oh, god..!” she moans as you hit her sweet spot. she grips tightly onto your wrist, her nails digging deep as she arches her back. “yes. yes, fuck me...” she cries out, begging you to give her what she wants without hesitation. the way you were pounding into her was driving her insane, her body tingled as you continued, and your name fell out of her mouth like a prayer.

“shit, fuck, anika.” you choke out as you feel her grip on your hair release, arms wrapping around you so you are pressed flush against her front as she collapses against you, her body going limp as she tries to steady her breathing. your own heartbeats pick up a beat and you look up at her face, seeing her eyes closed in pleasure. you fall next to her on your side, trying to not fall off the couch as you pull your fingers out of her.

“thank you.” she mumbles, resting her head against your chest and squeezing you tightly. you lay there, listening to her breathing for a moment as you hold her, wondering what in God’s name happened to the person that used to get mad at you because you were let out at night and she wasn't, that you had to move into the new room that was promised to her, and all sorts of little things.

you wonder where her patience ended up, where her kindness took over; how did a girl who always stood tall and strong become someone who was afraid to lose someone she hated so much before? you weren’t ready to ask yet because you aren’t sure if she was gonna satisfy your need for acceptance with another "i love you." and get you to stay with her. but all these were such little things and you decided just to relish in this moment while she was in your arms, basking in the same warmth you were until something was gonna disturb you.

#— created by 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐚 ☆#scream x reader #scream x reader smut #anika kayoko x reader #anika kayoko #anika kayoko x reader smut #anika kayoko smut #anika kayoko x female reader #anika kayoko x female reader smut #scream anika x reader #scream anika x reader smut #scream 6 x reader #scream 6 smut #scream smut

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amuhav · 2 years

Photo

[ ＡｎｙｔｈｉｎｇＢｕｔＧｒｅｙ ]

woooo we love lazy previews lmao but sorry this is all you get

Anyway, this post may look like garbage not a lot, but this is a BIG download, I swear. A big ol’ dump of a post, in fact. This download is 37 skins (yes, THIRTY FREAKING SEVEN), all recoloured with the ramps shown above. 32 Ephemera skins, 2 S-club skins, Fresh Blue blend by Brntwaffles, and 2 ~special personal blends~ of mine I was too lazy to take out of the download file lol.

Downloads, if you don’t care for details:

Just gimme ALL the skins (zipped)

Just those two special blends, plz! (zipped)

Link to all packages separated

So, what’s so special about them, anyway? What are you actually downloading? What is even the point of this? Well:

I edited them all to work with “normal” coloured ramps, aka not their horrible original ones. If you’ve used E-Skins or S-club skins before, you probably know what I mean. Colours all over the place, can never get them to go darker than a lightly tanned white person, or they go... bluey, greenish or freaking ashy grey. Well, NO MORE. All 37 skins come with 4 tone ramps pictured at the top of the post; the three base game ramps, “Default”, “Yellow”, and “Red”, and then my own extra one, “Pasty”. The Pasty ramp is specifically designed to replicate some of the pale tones of the originals, as I had some sims using them and didn’t want them to stop being their pale ass selves lol.

(This wasn’t just changing out the ramps, btw. I had to actually recolour almost every single one of the skins’ textures themselves, as a lot of them were more of the problem than the terrible ramps. I did not add in any ages that each of the skins didn’t already have, so keep that in mind.)

Also, they’re set up with clear-to-read thumbnails so you can see exactly which skin you’re using and which ramp, AND they even stay together in groups in the skintone panel, so no hunting for one little circle in a sea of randomly coloured dots. Like thissss:

Isn’t that tidy? Yes, I too wish it was a rainbow, but this was the best I could do lol. There’s some handy pngs in the zip file with a list of all the skins and their corresponding thumbnail colours.

None overwrite anything, so if you wish to swap out the original skins, you will have to manually change your sim’s skins. Or you can keep both! (they also don’t overwrite my old versions, pretty please pretend those don’t exist and use these instead ��🏻)

I really don’t recommend you put all 37 into your game at once lmao. 37x4 is like. A LOT to clog up your skintone panel with, trust me I should know cough we’re gonna pretend I don’t have them all in my game okay, do as I say not as I do cough. I’d recommend just downloading the ones you usually use, compare against the originals, and then maybe trying others in batches.

A few are... really not that great. There seem to be a couple of much older E-Skins, ones that don’t even seem to be up for official download anymore. But I included them because... well, I’d already done them LOL might as well. They all have unique faces (I checked each and every one) so maybe someone might find a use for them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Now, what are those two ~special personal blends~ I mentioned?

FreckledFrou - a blend of Pate Choux by Momo with Fresh Blue, and a bunch of my own edits and hand-drawn stuff, including a lot of freckles! (hence the name lol) It was designed to be a very pale, freckled skin, but it comes with all 4 ramps and does go darker. It’s for toddlers all the way up to adults. The face isn’t overly defined other than the freckles, because I made it for my personal use and I tend to layer a lot of skin detail makeup on top, so I really didn’t care, but it’s worth keeping in mind.

CurvyBlue - a blend of Fresh Blue and PPNH’s lovely Gina Skin, and again a bunch of my own edits. This skin is only for YA and Adult Females, unfortunately, as it was made for a specific sim of mine. Like all the rest, it includes all 4 ramps. It was made to be a curvier, fuller-bodied skin, (so no defined ribcage or muscles here!) but to not look out of place alongside other E-skins.

TOU:

Other than the two personal blends, they’re all literally just recolours at the heart of it, so I don’t really have any claim to them lol. Just credit or a link back or whatever. Same with the blends, credit if you use them as a base, and especially remember to credit the original skin creators too, ephemera, momo and pleaseputnamehere.

If you know how to use skininator, feel free to delete ramps you don’t want, add any you do etc. Now the skin textures themselves are recoloured, they should play nice with any “human” coloured ramps. (eg I’ve tested with kurasoberina’s, works great). Dunno about unnatural/berry tone ramps, but feel free to test! Just credit me for recolouring the textures, I guess.

and. I guess that’s it. man, I hope this made any sense as to what you’re getting lol. I know I know it’s a mess, but hey, what do you expect from me of all people (ง •_•)ง

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ghostofskywalker · 2 years

Text

Lovesick Fools

Poe Dameron/Fem!Reader

Fictober Day 28 of 31

Words: 1,393

Summary: After deciding that she's had enough of Poe not admitting his feelings for you, Rey recruits BB-8 to help get the two of you to see what’s obvious to everyone else.

Poe Dameron Masterlist

“And then I set the entire building on fire,” Rey spoke nonchalantly as she stared intently at Poe, who was fiddling with some of the controls on his X-Wing and passively nodding every time she spoke. She was convinced that he hadn’t heard a word she had said for the past five minutes. If this were any other time, there wouldn’t be much harm and she’d simply talk to him when his brain was back on the ground, but she was in the middle of explaining a mission that the General had asked them to complete, and it was a pretty important assignment.

“Good for you,” he responded absentmindedly, proving her theory correct.

Shaking her head, Rey knew that there was one surefire way to get her friend’s attention, so she decided to pull out the big guns. “Y/N was telling me-”

She didn’t even get a chance to finish her sentence before Poe had begun to listen again. “What about Y/N?”

“Nothing, but you weren’t listening to a thing I was saying before, so I had to get your attention somehow. At this point I genuinely can’t believe that you are denying the fact that you’re in love with her, it’s so obvious.”

Poe rolled his eyes, an indignant expression crossing his face. He always wore this look when you were the topic of discussion, and no matter how much he tried to deny his feelings, Rey always knew that he was full of banthashit. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t have feelings for her? This is getting a bit ridiculous honestly.”

“You can keep saying it, but it won’t just magically make the statement true,” Rey said, shaking her head at him. “Now, are you going to listen to me about your next mission, or do I need to call the General down here to give the briefing herself, because she won’t be happy about it.”

“I was listening!” She just sighed in response to her friend’s defensive tone, not bothering to argue as she started to repeat the details of the mission.

After she left Poe to get ready for his mission, Rey couldn’t stop thinking about how ridiculous he was. It was clear to anyone with eyes that he was in love with you, so why couldn’t he admit those feelings? Maybe he thought that if he admitted how he felt to someone else, they would try to get the two of you together before he was ready?

But the joke is on him, Rey thought as she walked through the halls of the base. Because I’m going to try and get them together without him admitting his feelings.

BB-8 came rolling past her, no doubt heading to Poe before they left for their mission, and Rey was struck with an idea. She made a mental note to find BB-8 and talk to him once Poe had returned from this assignment, because if she wanted to really get you and Poe together, she was going to need some help.

***

You didn’t even need to check your schedule to see who your next patient would be, because BB-8’s cheerful beeps suddenly filled the room. Out of all the droids you helped service on the base, BB-8 was by far your favorite, and it almost didn’t have anything to do with your massive crush on his owner, Poe.

“Hey buddy!’ you said, laughing as the droid spun in circles around your legs. “Here for a checkup?”

BB-8 beeped in affirmation, and he allowed you to pick him up and place him on your worktable. This was a relatively routine thing for you to do, so you weren’t too worried about anything being wrong with his systems. Unlike most of the other droids on the base, who didn’t really have too many people watching out for them, if something was unusual about BB-8, Poe usually brought him in to see you.

Speaking of Poe, you were removing the piece of durasteel that covered BB-8’s control panel when you heard his voice. “Hey Y/N, have you seen…”

Clearly he was asking about BB-8, judging by the way his voice trailed off as he took a look at his droid sitting on your worktable. Upon seeing his owner, BB-8 beeped cheerfully, and you laughed. “He’s right here, don’t you worry.”

“Is everything okay with him?”

“Yep, just a routine maintenance appointment,” you said. “And so far, it doesn’t look like anything is wrong.”

But you very quickly realized that you had spoken too soon, because a shrill whistle filled the room, obviously coming from BB-8 himself.

“What the kriff is that?” Poe asked, eyes widening as he placed his hands over his ears.

You looked through every single panel you had touched previously, but nothing you had checked so far had the power to make that kind of noise, and it seemed that BB-8 was still generally conscious. “I don’t know!” you said worriedly.

You were desperately looking for a part on your table from another BB unit that you fixed recently, wondering if perhaps it could be something in another part of his body, and you heard BB-8 beep incessantly at Poe. While you could translate some of what the droids said on this base, you were in no way fluent with how every model communicated, so you didn’t quite understand what he was trying to say over the annoying whistle that still filled the room.

“No! I’m not going to do that now, it’s not the right time!” Clearly Poe could understand, and BB-8 was trying to get him to do something.

“Everything okay?” you asked. The beeping got louder, and you winced. “Clearly not.”

As you continued to check over BB-8 to see what could possibly be making this noise, you heard Poe start to speak again, but you couldn’t focus on what he was saying. BB-8 beeped back and forth with him though, so clearly he wasn’t talking to you.

The next time you looked up, Poe and his droid were full on arguing. “If you’re doing this on purpose-”

“Why would he be doing this on purpose?” you asked, re-attaching BB-8’s front panel to see if maybe there was some kind of security issue that could be fixed by putting him back together. It didn’t work.

“He wants me to ask you out,” right as Poe spoke, you saw a look of shock cross his face, as if he wasn’t supposed to say those words out loud. Before you could respond, the shrill whistling stopped, and BB-8 beeped happily before completely shutting down, leaving just you and Poe staring at each other in the now silent room.

You weren’t sure what to say, and you were honestly wondering whether or not his words were a trick of your mind after that incessant noise BB-8 was making. “What do you mean?” you asked. Maker, this was definitely not your finest moment.

“I really like you,” he said softly, and he walked over to you and gently took your hand. “And apparently my droid has decided that I need to make a move already and chose to ruin our eardrums until I admitted my feelings.”

You couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from your lips, and you squeezed his hand a little tighter. “I really like you too.”

Suddenly your faces were getting closer to one another’s, and Poe’s gaze flickered down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, voice but a breathless whisper.

“You better,” you responded.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait too long for his lips to land on yours, but your moment was interrupted by BB-8 making joyful noises from your workstation.

“Oh, you woke up for that, huh?” Poe scolded his droid after he pulled away from you, his hands still on your waist, where they had came to rest during your kiss. You couldn’t help but laugh quietly at the expression on his face. “You’re a little menace, you know that?”

You couldn’t translate exactly what BB-8 said in response, but you could tell that if BB-8 had eyes, he would be rolling them right now. You weren’t too bothered by it, and you knew you’d have to find a way to thank the little droid later, when he wasn’t interrupting you and Poe.

- the end -

#ghostofskywalker.fictober #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x female reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader

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youngpettyqueen · 5 months

Note

Oh I now saw you reblogged some prompts! this one caught my eye bc I immediately heard this in jadzia's voice about garashir 67. “Oh my god! You’re in love with them!”

anon youre so right I IMMEDIATELY heard this in her voice on reading it. please enjoy Jadzia hassling Julian about his very not-subtle thing with the local lizard man

Julian is in a very good mood today.

Jadzia noticed it very quickly upon entering the infirmary. Of course, he was very concerned when she showed him her burnt hand, the result of not paying enough attention while tinkering with a panel that had been bothering her. But his concern was quickly gone once he realized the burn was only shallow, and would just need a quick pass with a dermal regenerator.

The thing is, he would usually still fuss. Or, at the very least, admonish her for being careless. But, no, he's coming back with the dermal regenerator and he's... humming, of all things. A slow song, with a gentle melody that she finds herself wanting to sway along to. She doesn't recognize it off the top of her head, but it's... nice.

"What is that?" She asks. She can't help herself- she's curious by nature.

"Hm?" Julian stops humming, looking up to meet her eyes, "What's what?"

"That song you're humming," Jadzia says, "It's nice. What is it?"

"Oh, that," Julian looks back at her hand, focusing on running the regenerator over her palm, "It's a... Cardassian piece. It's been stuck in my head since this morning." He tells her.

Jadzia narrows her eyes at him. He's... blushing. It's subtle, but it's there- he's all pink in the cheeks. "A Cardassian piece?" She echoes, a mischievous smirk curling her lips, "Where did you hear that?"

Julian is now very pointedly avoiding eye contact. "Garak showed it to me." He tells her.

Jadzia leans in, trying to catch his eye. "And why was Garak showing you Cardassian music this morning?" She asks, "Don't you two usually meet for lunch?"

His face is now going a very adorable shade of red. "We can meet more than once a week, Jadzia." He points out.

"Have you been meeting more than once a week?" She can't help but keep pressing- he's like a big red button, begging to be pushed, "Julian, you didn't tell me! When did that happen?"

"I wasn't aware I needed to keep you informed of what I do with my-" Julian cuts himself off very quickly, takes a moment, then coughs out, "Friend." In about the most unconvincing manner possible.

Oh, she has him now. "If he's your friend, then why are you blushing like a schoolgirl with a crush?" She asks.

Julian abruptly lets go of her hand. "Well, that takes care of that!" He says, his voice pitched, "If you would excuse me, I'm a very busy man, and I have... many surgeries to get to." He turns on his heel and starts making his escape.

Jadzia hops off the examination table and follows. "Oh, no. You're not getting away from me that easily," She swoops in front of him, blocking his way, "I want details." She insists.

"Details of what?" Julian asks incredulously.

"Your date." Jadzia grins.

"It wasn't a date!" Julian exclaims, "Really, I have patients to-" He tries to duck around her, but she moves to get in his way.

"No?" She presses, stepping closer. He steps back, "You two just... what, had a little get together this morning? Where he showed you Cardassian music?" She ducks down to catch his eye, "Slow Cardassian music?" She adds, pointed.

Julian's blush has started creeping across his nose. "Exactly," He squeaks out, unconvincing, "Just a friendly get together. Between friends. With... music."

Jadzia raises a brow at him. "I didn't see you on the promenade this morning." She informs him.

"That's because we weren't on the promenade." Julian replies.

"And you weren't in the holosuites," She continues, "I know, because Worf runs his exercise class every morning, and Quark was too scared to get that Klingon party from last night out of the others."

Julian backs right up into the examination table. "I don't know what you're getting at." He deflects.

Jadzia leans in. "You were in his quarters, weren't you?" She asks, grinning like a wolf.

Julian's eyes widen like moons. "I was not!" He exclaims, looking around wildly like somebody might be listening, "Honestly, Jadzia, I hardly see how this is any of your business!" He hisses.

"Then where were you?" Jadzia questions, undeterred, "C'mon, Julian, if you can't tell me, who can you tell? Where were you?" She hassles.

Julian shrinks backwards, looking like he wants to make like a turtle and hide in his uniform. And then he ducks his head, mumbling something at a volume a Ferengi wouldn't be able to pick up on.

"What was that?" Jadzia leans more into his space, putting her arms on either side of him and trapping him, "I can't hear you."

Julian looks up to meet her eyes. He's all red, all the way to his ears. He considers for a moment, before he heaves a loud sigh and, very quietly, he admits, "...My quarters."

Jadzia lights up like the Dabo wheel at Quark's. "I knew it!" She exclaims, clapping her hands against the examination table, "I knew you were seeing each other. Julian, you've been holding out on me!" She accuses, "How long has this been going on?"

Julian presses himself backwards, very nearly climbing up onto the table. "I'm not answering that."

"Did he spend the night?" Jadzia continues.

"I'm especially not answering that!" Julian squawks.

"Do you love him?" Jadzia grins, nearly nose to nose with him.

Now Julian does push himself up onto the table, and he uses the opportunity to swing himself around and jump down to the other side and try to make his escape. "This conversation is over!" He calls as he hurries away.

Jadzia follows in hot pursuit. "Oh my god, you are in love with him!"

"Jadzia!"

#fic bitching #star trek: ds9 #jadzia dax #julian bashir #elim garak #otp: I need to know that someone forgives me #I hope you enjoy this!! it was a lot of fun to write #apologies if its clumsy its my first attempt at DS9 fic #took a few attempts to get this to flow in a way I liked #love the Julian and Jadzia dynamic so again this was so much fun to write #I hope I did them justice! I think I did #ive been rewatching DS9 episodes the last couple nights so I have the character voices fresh in my head #(I literally have In The Cards on rn)#anyways!! I hope you enjoy <333 #felt good to write fic again

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mychlapci · 5 months

Note

Same anon as the preggo roddy one from yesterdayy? Second time sending one because im getting bold already plus i love your writing👍

I was poking around, because im blessed with boredom and the horny thoughts are hitting, and saw Rescue bots, And i am obsessed with chase so much, also the rescue bots polyamory.

The four of then cuddled up in the bunker at night after going absolutely feral on eachother, panels barely able to close as a mix of fluids gather beneath them, whoever fucked who was forgotten the moment a shared overload rippled over the lot of them, and the four of them end up in a sticky puddle of transfluid and lubricant mixed, too lazy to move and much too happy, blissfully ignorant of that 𝑵𝒐 the walls arent soundproofed enough to block out Chase’s screams and 𝒀𝒆𝒔 they’re keeping the humans up, and Cody does know, but he’s more worried on why its either blades or chase screaming.

I definitely see and headcannon chase as a speedster frame, he barely ever stops doing something unless he physically cant, and it just seems like he puts his endless energy into something that isn’t being a whore 𝘙𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘴 ,and i wished he had doorwings or a spoiler, because he’s just so pretty and most definitely deserves the other three of them to take turns to fuck the energy out of his frame, grabbing at sensitive appendages like they’re handles to get a good grip while slamming into a valve that feels hot enough to burn <3

All three bots knowing how needy speedsters get, how much energy a speedster frame conceals without an output source, like a thick false spike that can adsorb energy or a clamp on his node that vibrates until his anterior node is numb and tingling, panels are barely able to stay closed during a high-speed chase because the charge his frame wracks up stimulates the clamp, and his node is just buzzing with pleasure and the moment him and Chief burns get back to the firehouse, he just collapses.

The humans are worried ofcourse, panicking because they think he’s hurt, when in reality it was blades or heatwave’s idea because i see both of them as kinky little fucks and Boulder just watches while trying not to laugh because they all 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 chase is gonna be absolutely pissed off at them.

In the end Chief burns has to try and carefully explain that: No, the bots cannot continue to act like horny rabbits: No, they cant do their jobs if they’re pregnant, its a safety risk and Yes, if they want to keep on doing what theyre doing they have to use protection. (Its too late one of them, probably Chase or Blades, are already preggo. I want to go into detail on Blades but Chase needs some love)

Does ‘facing like that boost their morale? Yes. Do they continue? Yes. Does Chief burns threaten to call Optimus up and make the prime tell them to stop? Also yes. Atleast they can repopulate the Rescue bots?.. its like putting an endangered species in a breeding sanctuary and NOT expecting them to breed like crazy once theyre in a safe environment with food, shelter and comfort.

Yes god please, rescue bots porn save me. I fucking love horny rescue bots. i mean, sure, they’re always busy with missions, but not always always, they have far more moments of peace than the battle-trained team Prime, so obviously they gotta fill that free time with something. Orgies seem like a good idea.

Also thank you for focusing on Chase. My babygirl Chase. I need to play with his holes so badly. I need to fuck him so hard he forgets his name. But it’s fine, the rest of the Rescue bots are doing a good enough job of that. I am also a speedster + doorwings Chase truther btw. Chase shuddering when his door-wings are rubbed, valve cycling down when someone, usually Heatwave, grabs his wings and pulls while fucking him from behind…

god, the bunker not being soundproofed at all. The first few weeks the bots were staying there, the poor family had to get used to the sounds of them squealing and moaning in overload every. Single Night. Everyone is uncomfortable, though Cody is mostly confused. As they branch out to stunts like shoving a false spike up Chase’s valve for an entire day just to watch him stumble and struggle to pretend he’s not overloading in the middle of a police chase, Chief Burns’ gotta start thinking about how to… regulate the bots’ interfacing habits.

He reasons with them, saying that he wouldn’t want them to get sparked and end up incapable of fulfilling their vision (and bless whichever poor soul had to explain to him how cybertronians reproduce…) But oops. Big oops. I bet you Chase is already pregnant. Chief Burns is not strong enough to handle those news, not until he cools down and Chase has no choice but to start explaining the bump on his belly <33

bonus points if Charlie asks which one of the bots is the baby daddy and Chase casually admits he’s not sure. Maybe he babbles out some statistics based on which one of his teammates fucked him the most, but Chief Burns is not listening at that point. He really should call Optimus.

#valveplug #rescue bots #I NEED RESCUE BOTS SEX. I NEED CHASE RESCUE BOTS TO BE FUCKED SO HARD HIS BRAIN STOPS WORKING #pregnancy mention

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freesia-writes · 10 months

Text

Chapter 5: Insight

During the Clone Wars, the Bad Batch is tasked with a variety of missions across the galaxy. An unexpected addition to their team throws a wrench in the mix, particularly for Tech, who finds a particular connection with this disillusioned Padawan-turned-mechanic named Vel throughout the events in this action-adventure romance.

COVER ART BY @zaana!! And this was my first fanfic ever, y'all! :D

Master List of Chapters

Another mission, another risky departure. This time, the hyperdrive wasn't working, and as a last resort, Tech asked Vel for help. Once again, she came through, in another impossible situation. The team was amazed at her mechanical knowledge. As soon as they had a break between missions, though, they had their orders to drop her off. But she had so much knowledge. All mechanical, delivered dryly and peppered with laments about her now-useless status to both the Bounty Hunter's Guild and the Jedi Order. After much deliberation, the team asked her to stay, as a ship mechanic, until she decided where she wanted to go.

At this point, it had been long enough that she agreed, having grown accustomed to the ship's little nuances and quirks. But it came with one stipulation: she wasn't to be a prisoner anymore. She had no reason to turn against them and she was grateful for their help, though still hopelessly jaded about her future and resentful about her past.

She fashioned some makeshift quarters in the hold, still dark but better than bars and a stark cell. She had no personal items except a pouch with some credits, a basic medpack, and the multi-use weapon that Crosshair had relieved her of upon her capture, which wasn't returned to her just yet. The ship was under constant need of repair or maintenance, so she worked frequently alongside Tech, as well as the others, depending on what was needed. She was quiet and efficient, grateful for the lack of conversation when she assisted Hunter or Crosshair and chagrined at the constant questions and thoughts that accompanied any project with Wrecker.

Tech, however, was hard to discern. He spoke factually -- only when needed and immediately applicable. He did sometimes tend to explain a single topic in far too much detail, but she found it preferable to any questions or conversation directed at her, so she didn't make any effort to stop it. She found her interests piqued at his different approaches to certain processes, and they both shared an endless curiosity for the various intricacies of the galaxy.

They spoke of past missions, of their childhoods and experiences. Vel divulged bits and pieces here and there, and Tech began constructing a mental map of her story. Born on a lush forest planet, she was taken to the Jedi temple as a youngling when her Force abilities had surfaced, but throughout the Padawan training, it became painfully apparent that she was insufficient.

"Diplomatically dismissed," Vel said, rolling her eyes and waving the spanner in front of her, "Although I'd just call it what it is -- I wasn't good enough."

Tech remained silent, considering the ramifications. He was lying flat underneath a control panel, welding some rough edges while she rerouted the wires to avoid damaging them. "I went back to my dad, but he had moved to Corellia," she continued. "He tried to hide his disappointment, but it was apparent. So he thought he could make me the best mechanic in the shipyard instead. He hired me out as an apprentice to every specialist he could find. I worked during the day and studied in the evenings." "It sounds quite intensive," Tech responded, momentarily pausing from the flying sparks in front of him. "He was trying to do whatever he could to make me useful," Vel answered, her voice tight to conceal the deep pain. Tech remained silent, keeping his thoughts to himself, partially due to the emotional precision required and partially due to the discomfort of the situation. He lifted the face shield to rest atop his head, patiently awaiting any further revelation.

"Anyway," Vel continued, clearing her throat and regaining an air of carelessness, "It was never enough. I made him so much money, got him known throughout the system for ship modifications, but I made one small mistake on a Techno Union transport, and he kicked me out."

She shared the story factually, as if it meant nothing to her, but the constriction in her throat was unmistakable. "His own daughter -- imagine that," she said, returning to her work with a clenched jaw.

Tech felt deeply unsettled, not having much training on this sort of situation. He racked his brain, searching through the literature and studies he had consumed regarding human interaction and family dynamics before settling on his best attempt at encouragement: "The hardcell-class interstellar transport was a notoriously unique model, especially since it did not use conventional repulsorlifts for flight but opted for--"

"--rocket propulsion for atmospheric and stellar travel," Vel interrupted, "I know... Now."

"Ah," was his only response. He regarded her for a moment, and considered returning to his welding, but felt a compulsion to try again. He considered what she had shared, noting her body language, and decided on a different approach.

"I am sorry that your father failed to exhibit the loyalty one would traditionally expect from a birth parent," Tech said. "I would posit that it had more to do with his own ethical shortcomings than your perceived incompetence. If I had been born in the traditional human method, I would likely feel similarly disenfranchised by a lack of a secure attachment."

Vel didn't expect to laugh at this, but a chuckle burst out nonetheless. First of all, she had never expected to be sharing her aches and pains with a random clone engineer, and second of all, she had never guessed she would be comforted by a factual analysis of her developmental psychology.

She looked at him, staring solemnly right back at her without a trace of sarcasm or judgment, and couldn't help but smile. "I don't even know what to say to that," she said.

"No response needed," Tech responded matter-of-factly, pulling his face shield back down and returning to his work. Sparks began to fly again, and not just in the literal way this time, yaknowwhaddimean? ;)

Tag List: @merkitty49 @vimse @arctrooper69 @dystopicjumpsuit @starrylothcat @ghostperson69 @dreamie411 @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff (If you're on my regular tag list, let me know if you want to be tagged in this; I didn't want to spam ya!)

Click here to join or leave the tag list. <3

#the bad batch #tbb #star wars fanfiction #the bad batch fanart #bad batch #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #tech fanfiction #tech romance #tech x oc #slow burn romance #tech #tech bad batch #tbb tech

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withoutyouimsaskia · 1 year

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Remember Me, Special Dreams

Part XXV. Epilogue

GIF: Originally posted by @thekingofkawai

Summary: Self-insert. You're having trouble with recurring night terrors and Morpheus pays you a visit. (Title from the lyrics of Placebo’s Special Needs)

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of night terrors. 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, AMAB oral receiving, penetrative sex (AFAB+AMAB)

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Hello there dearest readers. Here it is. The final chapter of Remember Me, Special Dreams. I won’t replicate all the sentiments I wrote about in my post here but just know that I love and appreciate every single one of you who has read this story. Until next time, all my love, Saskia ❤️

Sandman Masterlist

-----------------

5 Years Later

The weekend bag weighing down your dominant hand is what you focus on as you de-materialise in an eddying haze. Despite having travelled this way countless times, you still get anxious about doing it alone. Getting out of your head by connecting with your senses was a good way of diminishing the feelings but the only thing that could truly banish them was the sight of your destination, the heart of the Dreaming.

It had only been a couple of days but you had missed it keenly.

You taste the fresh, nurturing air as you gratefully inhale a breath. Welcome images of both pure realism and fantasy beam from your optic nerves to your brain. Faint sounds of ripples across the surface of the lake are a soothing soundtrack. Your tension from travelling melts away.

You journey across the bridge that leads to the front doors. Sure, you could have appeared inside the palace but you like the walk to soak in every detail of the approach and converse and check in with Dreamfolk that you see on your way.

You have timed your arrival to coincide with the end of Morpheus' audience hours in the throne room. You take the familiar route to the place now.

With a careful press of your palm, you noiselessly push one of the doors open and slip through the gap. While neither of you can see each other yet, you are aware that Morpheus knows you are here. He would have felt your presence as soon as you re-entered the Dreaming.

You leave your luggage to the side of the door frame and walk to the bottom of the curving staircase. The resplendent glass panels that serve as a backdrop eke gorgeous pastel shades over the marble that makes up the cathedral-like room.

As you look up to where Morpheus sits on his throne, a warm smile touches his rosy lips, one that you cannot help but return.

"My love," his voice oozes with the sweetness and warmth of honey and ginger.

"My Lord."

You ascend the steps, each footstep invoking a growing anticipation. To be close to Morpheus again is your only wish.

Once stood in front of him, he reaches for your hand and brings it to his mouth. His lips touch the ring on your left hand; a silver band set with a black opal. The iridescent speckles in the stone reflect colours of red, blue and green onto his pale skin.

He keeps his eyes locked with yours throughout, enhancing the intimacy.

You pull your hand away gently and rest it on the back of your neck as you are overwhelmed by the feelings blossoming in your chest.

Even after all these years, he is still able to make you giddy and delirious.

"Hi Morpheus," You say shyly.

"Hello, Y/N." He stands and puts his hands firmly on your waist. "Tell me how you are, how were your parents?"

You smile broadly as you mentally recall the weekend you had spent together. Afternoon walks and conversations that lasted long into the night. Wholesome food and non-stop tea drinking. Reminiscing and planning for the future. So much love and affection.

"It was lovely. They were on sparkling form, although they seemed a bit disappointed that you couldn't be there."

"Next time, I promise." He pulls you into an embrace. His clean, comforting scent is a balm.

You mumble your next words against his chest. "I think they might also be starting to notice that I've stopped ageing."

You are melancholy about this; their realisation means it will bring about change and you have grown quite accustomed to your life in its current guise.

"Do you regret your decision?" He whispers.

Pulling away, you cup his jaw with a hand. "Not at all. I promised forever in our wedding vows."

"And I promised to support you in times of difficulty.”

"It's okay. We always knew this day would come."

"We should decide what to tell them."

"I agree,” you lighten your tone. “But first, you must let me know how you have been."

Morpheus looks wistful. "I have missed you, My Queen, as I always do when we are apart."

"I missed you too. Especially at night."

You are referring to the necessary measure where you are shut off from the Dreaming when you spend a night in the waking world. It is something that you know saddens Morpheus, for it brings him great satisfaction to feel you enjoying dreams again after choosing to live predominantly in the Dreaming, particularly the dreams he makes especially for you.

"I thought about you a lot when I was alone," you confess in an afterthought.

Morpheus raises his eyebrows. "Did you think of anything in particular?"

"I think you can guess."

He chuckles with a playful smile. "I have an inkling but I would much prefer you tell me."

"I would much prefer to show you."

You push on his shoulders to get him to sit once more and then sink down onto your knees. Your long black coat, deliberately reminiscent of Morpheus’ own, pools about you.

“May I?” You ask as you trace an index finger around the circumference of the button on his trousers.

He nods and a little thrill electrifies your core. While it was not the first time you had done things in this room, you always find it exhilarating to be able to pleasure your King atop his throne, and even more so when you are the one taking charge of the situation.

You free his erection and steady it at the base with your hand. His tip is dripping with arousal; you lap at it with your tongue and he gasps.

His reaction makes you grin mischievously. You tease him with little licks and kisses until he is tense with need. He has never begged verbally yet you know that this state is the closest he will get to uttering the words and a cue that he is desperate.

The instinct to quell his torment is all-encompassing.

You open your lips and take him into your mouth. The groan he issues as you envelop him is guttural.

You take in as much as you can handle without bringing yourself discomfort and then look up at your husband. Lustful darkness glints in his eyes. You move.

Dragging upwards, you suck all the way to his swollen tip, swirl your tongue around and then dip back down. You repeat this at various speeds and pressures, and use your hands to provide extra sensation. Scandalous, wet noises and breathy panting fill your ears and turn you on.

You slow a little and peek up at Morpheus. His hands are gripping the arms of the throne, clearly showing the strain he is bearing in order to keep himself under control. You know that he wants to let his hips rise up. You tighten your lips and move faster to compensate. He begins to twitch.

“Y/N,” he calls.

You withdraw.

"I want you in my lap."

You stand, and as you do so the clothes covering your body dissolve into nothing. It is a feat that never fails to impress you.

Morpheus moves to sit further forward on the throne and you place yourself so your thighs are either side of his hips. His expectant expression and the feeling of skin on skin makes you quiver with delight.

You fix your attention on the enchanting, exquisite face that you adore, at the person you love so dearly and your heart stumbles. You sometimes wonder how the universe pulled this off however you are glad it managed to.

Morpheus draws your face to his and you kiss deeply, running your fingers through his wild, wispy locks. His own fingers massage your breasts and your nipples harden against his soft palms.

Without breaking the kiss, you position your entrance to hover over his cock. You pull back and look deep into Morpheus’ bottomless blue eyes.

"Do it," he says darkly, as his smouldering gaze consumes you.

You drop down with a controlled flex of your leg muscles.

The groan that rumbles in his chest is like the growl of a jaguar. Your own groan is higher in pitch but just as vehement.

You find a rhythm; a shallow yet sensual one that keeps you from knocking your knees or Morpheus' back into the upright of the seat.

You stare at each other with wonder. All that pent up longing seeps away, replaced by relief.

Your forehead falls to rest on his shoulder. From your new viewpoint, you have full sight of the place where your bodies are joined. You blink in surprise.

Literal constellations are swirling, dancing on your skin.

Shades of blue, purple and pink highlighted with twinkles of silver, they caress the insides of your thighs, hips. Everywhere that Morpheus’ skin is touching yours.

You have no idea whether he knows what he is doing.

You stop your rutting and raise your head.

"My love?" He questions with concern.

You look down again and he follows suit.

Morpheus sees the galaxies. His lips part in surprise.

He experimentally trails his fingers up your neck and across your jaw. You can’t see however you know that the same is happening because of his expression of fascination.

His hands are then everywhere. Brushing over your lips, eyelids, breasts, stomach, leaving stars in his wake. He's painting you with his very essence. Making you shine with the same radiance of the ceiling above you.

He then places a palm over your heart. “I love you, Y/N,” he intones delicately.

“I love you, Morpheus.”

You kiss again before you grip the back of the chair and lift yourself up a little. Morpheus' hands grasp your hips and making full use of the newly created space, he begins to pump up into you.

Burying your face against his neck, you gasp with every thrust as he hits a spot inside you that makes you feel like you are on the way to losing your composure.

You allow him to do it. You let yourself be swept by his currents, higher and higher into the boundless night sky above you.

He then makes a sound that has been echoing in your mind since the very first time you had sex. A deep, drawn out moan of pleasure that makes your walls start to constrict.

You relish the cooling flood of liquid that he spills inside you and the shuddering of his release triggers your own. Morpheus' long fingers then engulf your clit with sweet friction and your body arches with ecstasy.

You are suspended, floating in the vacuum of space. The stars that float around you, the same as the ones marking your skin.

Your lips are forming a single word. His name, but you can't hear the sound in your current orbit.

Morpheus' voice pulls you back through the atmosphere and down to somewhere more grounded.

He is murmuring praises that tickle the shell of your ear.

You are weak, unable to reply with anything but laboured breaths. Your legs shake so much that you are afraid you will fall if you try to get up. All you can do is cling to him like a koala on a eucalyptus tree.

Morpheus stands, still buried inside you. Your surroundings transform into your bed chamber.

You whimper when you feel your centre of balance shift as he goes to lay you down on the sheets. You don’t want to leave the safety his arms provide.

"Relax, my love," he murmurs.

He lets his cock slip out from your warmth. Pillows cushion the back of your head and cotton meets your bare skin. He clears his release away with a wave of his hand and drapes the covers over your exhausted frame. Suddenly, he is gone from your vision field.

"Morpheus?" You sound fearful.

"I am here, Y/N." He reassures.

He settles into the space beside you. You smile as you feel his hands stroking your face. Soothing you this way was something he excelled at.

“Is there anything I can get you?”

You shake your head, fighting to keep your eyes open. “No, thank you.”

He presses a kiss to your temple.

"Sleep, my love. I will watch over you until you wake."

It was such an inviting idea. The light in the room begins to dim, as if Morpheus has read your thoughts.

You give in to the lull, but before you are drawn under, you grab onto Morpheus’ hand.

"Don't leave me, please," you implore.

He lies down beside you and pulls you flush against his chest with his lithe arms.

His reply is a promise, spoken with his usual sibilance of storm clouds and sea breezes, a promise that would last for eternity.

"I wouldn't dream of it.”

-----------------

"So let me sleep where I live. With a murder of crows that live in the boughs of my brain. See me when I float like a dove. The skies above are lined with trees. I'm on my knees, I'm singing please. Come and take me away."

A/N II: A happy ending! Hope you enjoyed it. Would love to know your thoughts. Have a good evening ❤️

Also. Send help. I watched The Boat That Rocked and On The Road last week and I am now more in love with Tom than ever.

Taglist: @pinkcyclewitch @layla2-49 @shoidy-cat @silverhart93 @boofy1998 @dotieeee @ponysboy-sunsets @fangirlmary @littledollll @fatimakinney @jamiethenerdymonster @rosaren2498 @mr-sandman-bring-me-a-dream @madiebear @sandman-33 @sallysal9 @asiludida164 @elf-punk @grungeisntmything @sapphireonline @seninjakitey @emarich7

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v7n5 · 20 days

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How can I not be obsessed with yin-yang shipping when this is literally what I grew up with?

This is the manhwa that I wanted to mention but didn't cuz i thought why would anybody care lol, but I refuse to go about my life and not mention the greatness of this masterpiece in Korean comic legacy called "Shin Angyo Onshi". I don't wanna go into details about the plot itself but just the art. Juxtaposition is one of the main themes in this story, it's demonstrated from the character design to the scenery in certain panels, and it's just so.fucking.GOOD!! I don't have the capacity to put into words just how amazing the art in this manhwa is, but it's a real shame that people have mostly stopped talking about it and now it's practically in the comic art wasteland. I mean just look at these:

The amount of skills that went into each and every scene is insane. And if i have to say one thing about the plot itself , i'll say that it's perfect. From beginning to end, the MC's (Munsu) lore, motive, purpose, vulnerability were all beautifully told. People say this is like the Korean counterpart of Berserk but that's really surface-level judgement imo, cuz Munsu and Guts came from very different places, and Shin Angyo Onshi wasn't so drawn out and didn't have as much unnecessary violence... No shade...👀

But because this is a comic from the 2000s, one has to admit that there are some questionable fanservice moments. Perhaps since I'm fucking gay, I don't mind it that much. It can also be because the sexualisation isn't so over the top, and the human body proportions are actually realistic for once. And I do really enjoy the main girl's (Chun Hyang/Sando) arc. She's strong, a force to be reckoned with when in combat, saved MC's ass countless times, had a clear rise and downfall and didn't stick to MC all the time and actually ventured out into the world for her own motive. Many other female characters also kicked ass and have prominent features and are unique from each other and are interesting respectively and oh my god i love women.

Also, fashion!! The designs in this are a sight for sore eyes. It's infuriating how everybody looks so good. I especially love the way the Korean imperial/traditional attires are illustrated. They always look so grand and stunning, I can tell the culture is represented with pride

Also the queerbaiting is awesome. I would add more images but I've reached the limit.

#there are simply way too many things to be said #i would not recommend the short anime tho... it sucks!!!!#shin angyo onshi

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girlvulation · 2 months

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I lied. I forgot I have two papers I need to write and final after spring break. This might be the only long post for awhile. If there are any mistakes let me know. I might come back and edit it once I sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It is hard to tell how long you have been tied up like this. The feeling of soft rope tightly caressing your body. Intricate knots wrapped around each curve, keeping your legs apart and hands bound together as if you were praying. You were on the cusp of doing so. The soft sound of a vibrator bound to your clit by the shibari. Not knowing the last time you had squirted but knowing if one more, you might not make it into the next day. Your clit was swollen and red from the abuse that you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to. Knees bucking against the lush carpet, trying to find a way to loosen the vibrator stuck against you. Not sure if he was still in the room. Just watching your pathetic body release nothing but cum and whimpers. It was hard to see with the scarf covering your eyes. Its opaque material makes everything seem darker than it already is. It didn’t help you also worse glasses and were currently without them.

Nothing could have prepared you for the situation you were in right now. It had been three years since you last had a romantic partner or even had sex. Thinking it was time to try again but not wanting any serious romantic feelings involved, you opted for a partner at a kink club. The initiation was a long process, with plenty of interviews and a detailed checklist going over every kink from the basics to the most obscure. Even confirming your health through an extended panel of sexually related diseases to make sure you were safe enough to enter. After all that, plus a healthy fee, you could finally enter. It wasn’t quite like you expected when you first walked in. Instead of the usual fantasy of ropes, toys everywhere, and people naked or barely dressed, you were met with a luxurious-looking cigar lounge. The color palette envelops you in warmth and sophistication, with deep forest green walls accented by plush brown leather seating. It was bathed in a soft, inviting light that danced off the cream-colored marble floors and ornate gold fixtures, adding a touch of old-world charm. Each seating area is carefully curated for comfort and style, featuring plush leather armchairs and sofas arranged around polished mahogany tables. In the center of the lounge, a grand fireplace casts a warm glow, inviting guests to relax and unwind in its flickering light. A well-appointed bar offers an extensive collection of top-shelf spirits and wines. Soft jazz music fills the air, creating a soothing backdrop for conversation and contemplation.

Amid the detailed environment, people were dressed in black tie attire. Each with a band around their arm as they conversed with the people around them. You knew the place was on a high scale compared to other dungeons in your area, but not to this extent. Even though you tried your best to match the dress code, you felt as though you were underdressed, not having the confidence the other women did. Straightening up and placing your red and yellow band onto your arm, you walked over to the bar to calm your nerves. That is where you met him. Tall, beautiful hazel eyes, broad shoulders, and a smile oozing with charisma were your one weakness when it came to men. You shared a drink with the man, making an easy conversation. Every now and then, you would glance at your surroundings, watching as people entered different rooms with others. You knew that’s where the real fun began, and you were hoping you would be entering one of those rooms with the man in front of you.

Cut to now, you kneeling naked on the floor as the third orgasm is ripped from your body. Did he really leave you in the room all by yourself? Becoming fearful of the situation, you were about to safe word before the scarf was removed. In front of you was the same man staring down at you with a mix of warmth and lust in his eyes. He had been here the whole time after tying you up. Watching you slowly lose yourself in the pleasure. A soft whimper left your mouth, the need to kiss him growing stronger with each passing second, but there was nothing that could be done. All you could do was watch as he removed the vibrator from your body, relief washing over.

“You did so well for me, darling. Taking those orgasms like that. Just watching you lose yourself in pleasure, the drool dripping down the corners of your mouth as another orgasm took your body and overstimulated you. You have no idea how hard I got just watching. Do you wanna see it? Wanna see my thick cock all hard for you? Needing to be burning inside you? I promise we’ll get there soon”. The words he spoke washed over your body. The thick Texan accent made him even more irresistible. It didn’t matter how bad you needed him. In your mouth. You pussy, Your ass. Anywhere that he could fit. Slowly undoing some of the rope so that your body could be manipulated better, the man hummed as he admired his work. A few quips about how beautiful you were and how he couldn’t wait to fuck you were thrown in there from time to time. As the ropes from your legs were loosened and removed, he made quick work burying two of his fingers inside your cunt. A gasp left your body before you began moaning like the whore you were.

“My pussy is open and hot and ready to clench around your cock. Please fuck me..” it was all you could say once his fingers curled inside you, but you knew it didn’t matter. He was going to have his way with you how he pleased. With a tsk and a headshake, he removed his fingers and put them in your mouth for you to taste. “My sweetheart is so need right now. With that type of begging, I have no choice, but you fuck your throat. That pretty pussy won’t get a taste of me until the very end. Okay, sweetheart?”

With glazed-over eyes and a nod, he removed his fingers from your mouth and stood up. He was already shirtless but began working at the black dress pants. Palming himself as he did so. Pulling himself out and giving his cock a few pumps, he thrust into your mouth roughly. With no time to adjust, you were reduced to just a throat to fuck. Even then, the pleasure from just the action alone made your pussy throb. The wet sounds of him fucking your throat and his moans filled the room. With spit gathering in your mouth, you swallowed around him, your mouth becoming a vacuum that made his cock twitch as you moaned and whimpered around it. “Damn baby, if I knew your mouth was this good, I would have fucked it from the beginning. What say we give this pussy a try, huh?”

With that, his cock was removed from your mouth, and you were carried to the large bed in the middle of the room. Positioning you on the edge as he lined his cock up to your pussy from behind. It already twitched with anticipation; he made quick work and thrust inside you, beginning a fast and harsh pace. Finally getting what you truly desired, you broke and rambled what came into your quickly deteriorating sanity.

“My pussy needs you. It belongs to you. You own this tight hole. Yes! Yes! Unnh! Unnh! You’re so good! Unnh! You’re so good!”

The only thing that could heard in the room was your voice and his thrust. Watching you lose it on his cock, a soft chuckle left him as he stopped his thrust and began grinding into your pussy. The feeling made your eyes roll back as he brushed against your cervix.

“God, look at you. Losing it on my cock. Do I make you feel that good, baby? Mmm…fuck, this pussy is so good. You feel so deliciously tight around me, sweetheart. You want my cum, baby? Want me to breed the greedy pussy of yours? Take this cum, baby. Take it all. Feel me pour all my seed into you.”

“Unnh! You fill me so full! Unnh! Unnh! Fuck my pussy! Unnh! Fuck my pussy! Unnh! Fuck me! Unnh! Fuck me! Unnh! Fuck me! Unnh! I love your cock! Unnh! You own me! Unnh! I’m your slut! Unnh!”

His thrust became more erratic and rougher as the near end. Feeling him breed your insides brought out another orgasm. You had forgotten how many times you did tonight while your pussy milked his cock dry.

#free use cnc #breeding toy #free use doll #free use slvt #free use toy #bd/sm brat #bd/sm daddy #bd/sm kink #breeding k1nk #free use kink #dumb slvt #c0cksleeve #c0ckslut #c0ckwh0re #c0ckdrunk #n33dydoll #bd/sm community #stories #tumblr writing community

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