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#because i’ve settled into the room i started out in
chrissshub · 6 hours
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KAMA SUTRA SESSIONS!
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°❀°•༢ ❥ SYNOPSIS: When you get an appointment from a passing athlete who wants to better his game with women, who's better to answer the call than the resident sęx therapist?
°❀°•༢ ❥ CW: 8.7k words, told in first person, sẽx therapist!fem!reader, post timeskip!ushijima, not mentioned but ages are both 26, use of an oc, dialogue-heavy, pwp, peņetration, cunnilīngus, fiňgering, sqûirting, implied size difference, unprotected
°❀°•༢ ❥ DEAR READER, FROM CHRIS: So this was inspired by my most recent field of study: s*x and the kama sutra. and from my research and thinking "hm, who would have an interest in this?" is how this fic came to be. hope you enjoy!
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In the life as a sex therapist, there’s some things that you hear, see, and even experience that add years to the career. 
 At first, I thought it was going to be a failed business move, considering that sex is seen as a taboo topic by some. I mean, it’s a process as natural as birth but people shame it with such strong resentment…like it’s an unimaginable evil that’s ruining the world.
I couldn’t help but to think my discouragement was properly placed. I was in a town with families, retirees, no one that would really need my advice.
That “failed business move” of a thought lasted all of a week. 
Thanks to the small pickett signs I personally had made and placed around the office building’s parking lot and nearby plazas, I had clients booking with me by the hour. 
Couples of all ages—some married, some divorced, many singles, even polyamorous groupings contacted my office. 
When people heard of a new sex therapist entering the area and started booking sessions with me, I could only wish to know what was going through their minds.
I’ve dealt with teary confessions about how wives have lost attraction for their husbands, husbands who come to terms with the fact that they don’t know how to please their wives. I’ve even gotten singles who’ve come in just to make sure they still know how to perform in the bedroom. 
In these past four years, I’ve learned that just because people shun the idea of sex and sexual education during the day, they’ll come on their hands and knees at night. It’s been an interesting ride, but I can proudly say that I’ve helped many people in the area rekindle their sparkle and to finally achieve their goals with their partners.
The days I’ve spent at the office were nothing short of fulfilling—and today was supposed to be like no other.
Supposed to, of course.
My day started out like normal; waking up in my bed with my eyes fluttering open. The first thing I settled my hazy squint  onto was the rays of sunlight peeking through my creme shutters, begging to illuminate my room. 
I pried my hand from underneath my pillow to grab my phone off on my bedside table, the screen greeting me with a single message: 
(1) VOICEMAIL FROM: Hana
Hana, my cheeky, bright-eyed, receptionist. She joined me when she was a freshman at the local community college, just taking classes until she figured out what she wanted to do with her life. Fast-forward to today, she’s a fresh graduate with a bachelors in psychology. 
She’s taken it upon herself to call her around 6 A.M every day with a debrief of the day ahead. When I asked her why she does it, the sweet girl simply told me the extra effort was the least she could do. 
Since then, I’ve bumped her pay high enough so that she can support herself by herself and haven’t pressed the topic a vowel further.
With my debriefing at hand, I sat up in my bed, sleep still lingering behind my eyelids. I have half a mind to cancel whatever appointments I have today and sleep just for an hour more. But when I looked down at the time on my screen, it was a reality I knew I couldn’t afford.
9:00 A.M.
My office opened in an hour and my first appointment always starts at 10:30…bless me.
“Okay, Hana, let’s see what you have for me,” I mumbled as I clicked on the awaiting tab. 
As my thumb pressed the play button, Hana’s voice instantly became my background noise for my morning routine—which began in the bathroom for a shower.
“‘Morning, Y/N! Hope you slept well! I have good news and bad news for you. And no, I can’t give you the bad news first because it’s intertwined with the good news. So for starters, you have a light day—one appointment! Bad news…and this is a first for us…this client booked you for a few hours.”
“Hours?!? What the fu—“
Just hearing that made me pop my head from behind the glass shower door. Clients usually meet with me for an hour, an hour and a half if needed but hours???
“I know exactly what you’re thinking because…what the fuck?? But when I explain more about him, I think you’ll be impressed.”
“Okay, you’ve got a bit of a celebrity on your hands today. This one is Ushijima Wakatoshi. He’s 26, a player for the Schweiden Alders…a professional volleyball team. He’s playing a game against our national team and is gonna be in town for a few days. He booked with you because, and this is in his words, he says that he’s a little “awkward in the realm of love and wants to improve his social skills and….intimate skills.” He also sent over test results…he’s clean, just to let you know . So…have fun with this one!”
And just like that, Hana’s cheery voice was reduced to naught, melding with the stillness of my bathroom. 
I turned off the water, standing in a foggy haze. There was only one thought in my mind: 
Well then, Ushijima Wakatoshi…let’s start the day together right.
✧─── ・ 。゚★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
“Hana! Oh my sweet flower, I brought your favorite♪!” I sang, entering through the office’s  front door.
Hana lifted her head from behind the monitor, her bright smile complementing my own. 
“An omlettle with cheese and hash browns on the side?!?” She squealed, jumping from her seat. 
“Mhm! Enjoy!”
Before I could take a step further, Hana ran to greet me with a hug, her curly black hair dusting along my chest. 
“Thank you, Thank you!” She cheered, stepping back from me. She quickly took the stuffed brown bag from my hands before returning to her desk. 
With a fading grin, I turned my attention down towards my top, a fitted rose dress shirt with just a few top buttons left undone. I wiped a few wrinkles away, shifting my attention down to my  black pressed slacks that didn't face the same fate. 
Still just as fresh and clean as when I left my apartment.
“So,” I began as I walked towards Hana. “How much do I have before our guest checks in?”
“Mmm, about 20. But Y/N…he’s so hot! I looked him up and wow! Like…I’m kinda confused how he’s having issues with girls. I’m sure the women at his matches throw themselves at him,” Hana gushed between a bite of her omelette.
I leaned against the rim of the desk, resting my red leather purse and my hips along the surface.
“Oh, you know how it goes. Looks can get you far, but it’s your words and actions that determine your success. I bet he does look good, but he probably needs more work on his confidence.”
“Ah, true. Well, you go tidy up your office and I’ll run the vacuum out here in a few,” Hana said, her hand shooing me away.
I grabbed my bag and giggled, “Okay, okay! But—“
I couldn’t even finish my thought when the front door tolled open, gaining a stare out of Hana and me.
“Um…excuse me…I’m here for Dr. L/N. I have an appointment at 10:30, but I just wanted to show up a little early,” the deep voice announced.
I turned my head to meet the owner behind such a voice, just for my eyes to be stunned at the sight.
A man, a tall one at that. He stood in the middle of the office with a straight face, staring back at Hana and I. His hair was a shade of brown unique to him only, brushed back to reveal his entire face. His features were strong—his jawline sharp, his cheekbones high, brows trimmed and clean,  his eyes glimmering like that of a polished citrine gem. 
Hana was right…he really was something to marvel at.
He stood with his hands behind his back, impassively waiting for someone to reply—or not, he really seemed unbothered.
I didn’t even need to guess what his physique could be underneath such proper garb. Those  muscles weren’t shy of peeking  beneath the navy suit he wore. The white dress shirt beneath was crisp, and no tie was in sight —which I guess is casual to him.
I bit my lip softly, I’ve never been intimidated by a man before, but this one made my face swell with a wafting heat. So this is Ushijima Wakatoshi…the name fits him perfectly.
Nonetheless, I had a job to do.
I rolled my shoulders back and began a few short steps towards him, the click of my heels slienced against the plush sage green carpet. 
There I was, standing before him. My height met him just beneath his collar—and that’s thanks to my heels. I held my hand out to him, my glossed lips curling into a rich smile. 
“Mr. Ushijima, it’s so nice to meet you! I’m Dr. L/N, but Y/N works just fine. This is Hana, my lovely receptionist.”
His hand was rough and worked, but slid against my palm like butter, his warmth melding into my touch. His thumb sat past my own, the rough pad swiping ever so softly along my skin. When my eyes finally eased from their shared smile as my lips, I couldn’t look away from him. 
His own gaze was captivating, almost entrapping me in a trace of just him and I. I watched as his lips curled into a faint smile, a brief flash of white meeting my eyes.
“Oh, Y/N, it’s wonderful to meet you! Please, feel free to call me Ushijima or Wakatoshi! I’ve been waiting for this appointment for a while now.. 
He broke away from our contact to give his attention to Hana, waving to her with his other hand.
“And it’s nice to meet you too, Hana! Thank you for your hard work!”
I didn’t need to look back to know the look on Hana’s face: she’s a flustered mess with her tongue  caught in a shudder.
“O-Oh…thanks, sir! It’s not without Y/N, though. I c-can tell you that you’ll be in…great hands!.”
Ushijima turned his sights back towards me, that muted curl of his lips growing into a full-bodied smile at last. 
“I sure hope so.”
I gave Ushijima one last smile before taking my hand away from his, my hands clasping together. 
“Let’s begin! I’ll bring you back and we’ll get on,” I announced, turning away from Ushijima. 
As I passed by the desk, I grabbed my bag and gave Hana a swift smirk, one she returned with a wink. 
Ushijima and I descended down the hall until we arrived to a room a door down from my office, room 165.
I turned the doorknob as I leaned against the white door, “Come on in.”
Ushijima nodded as he passed me, the faint scent of his cologne whisked past my nose. It’s rich—bergamot, some sage, amber, and even a hint of vanilla. That’s a good mix, and his body isn’t rejecting it, a man who knows his signature scent is a rare one these days.
The room I bought us to was of decent size—about the size of a child’s bedroom. The walls were handpainted by Hana and I some years ago, a soft peach with white carpeting. The furniture was all espresso colored, from the two leather seats that faced one another, the coffee table between the two, and the bookshelf that stood against the window.
It was a pretty comfy room, one that many current and past clients raved about. 
“Pick your side and get comfortable, we’re gonna be here awhile,” I teased, closing the door behind me. 
“I must apologize for that. I heard about you some time ago during a tournament and I’ve always wanted to have a sit down with you. And since I don’t come to the States often, I thought it was best to have an ample amount of time with you,” Ushijima confessed as he settled into the leather arm chair.
I followed suit, placing my bag onto the table as I sank into the seat. 
“Oh, don’t apologize! You’re actually my only client today, so we can take up all day if need be. I want you to leave here confident and more sure of yourself. Which brings me to my first question…”
I folded my legs over one other, resting my hands within my lap. My eyes settled over Ushijima, not with the same set that marveled at him just minutes before. This time, I excused his attraction for purpose, preparing myself to ask the timeless question:
“What brings you in today?”
Ushijima brought himself to sit up in his seat, his large hands drifting to brace his clothed thigh.
“Well, put shortly—I wanna get better with women. I can’t talk to them, and then I see my teammates—they can strike up a conversation with them so easily. And women do talk to me, but it’s just not…oh how can I put this…with substance?”
“What do women say to you?” I asked, leaning back into the couch.
“Just talk about my looks, or how impressed they are. I’ve heard it one too many times, it gets tiring. I know they’re just trying to make conversation with me by complimenting me, but those things just bore me. My teammates love that kind of attention, but it all seems pointless to me.”
“And why is that?”
“Because,” Ushijima sighed. “It’s just going to go nowhere. I’m not into hooking up, the thought bores me honestly. I mean, I feel that you don’t get the best of someone after one night, especially if your goal is just sex.”
“So then Ushijima—”
“Wakatoshi…please call me, Wakatoshi,” Ushijima intervened, a feeble smile creeping onto his face.
“Okay…Wakatoshi, call me Y/N. Doctor is just too formal for me,” I added. “But it still begs the question, Wakatoshi: What are you looking for?”
“As in my romantic goals or my type?” 
“Both work perfectly! Your interests do tie into your romantic goals,” I informed him.
Now, it’s so unbecoming of me to ask a client what their type is…but Ushijima is such a special case that I’ll overlook just this once.
After posing the question to him, Ushijima took a moment of silence to ponder, his eyes narrowing down on me.
“My type is…smart. Really smart. A put together woman with a good sense of humor. I’m more on the rigid side but I do appreciate a woman who can find joy in things. Her beauty goes without saying, so basically—a woman of substance.”
“Okay, sounds—
“What’s your type?”
Just the query to catch me off my guard…and pique my interest. In all my years, I’ve never had a client return any of my questions to me; I didn’t think Ushijima would be the first. 
My cheeks flickered with heat, but I found comfort within the moment by biting my tongue softly. My eyes were pinned on him, Ushijima still wearing that blank yet firm expression on his face— neutral eyes, brows stilled and his mouth free of any curl or twitch.
Just a peaceful face behind a stinging question.
“I don’t see how that matters…?” I said, staring at Ushijima through a razor-sharp squint.
“But it does matter. It’s not a hard question unless you make it one,” he continued. “What’s your type of man, Y/N? It’d be nice to know, since we’re gonna be here awhile together.”
A grin perked up onto his lips, the cracks of pearly white teeth breaking onto the scene.
 “Can’t I ask you some questions too?”
My lips broke apart between a brewing sigh, the tip of my tongue pressed against the gummy flesh of my cheek. I can’t deny him to be honest, we are stuck here for some time, and this session couldn’t continued as a one sided conversation forever.
“Alright, my type…my type…. I like a tall man, a nice athletic build, keeps himself well kept. As far as personality: smart, kind, respectful, responsible, and thoughtful. Thoughtfulness, however, is a big one for me. It’s nice to know you mean so much to someone that they would take actions out of that place of love. That’s quite admirable in my eyes.”
There was an air of silence between Ushijima and I. He sat still and I did the same. Our eyes hadn’t broken from each other either, yet the softening hues of olive green made me feel calm beneath Ushijima’s gaze. 
But this was an appointment, not a staring contest. I was the first to break the silence.
“A-hem..Um… well, I digress, let’s continue,” I choked out. 
I broke the eye contact Ushijima and I worked so hard to maintain with a simple blink, searching for the next territory of topic to enter. 
“So where did we—talked about types…but that’s not exactly helpful in the slightest. I know you wanted to address conversation too, but can you explain a little bit more?”
Ushijima nodded calmly, but that wasn’t all I got from him. Vunerabilty was one hell of a feeling, and it dusted the highs of his cheeks red. And as his skin began to run hot, Ushijima himself grew antsy, his hand coming to rub at  the nape of his neck. 
But…it was cute to me. The emotions I see on a daily basis are pride, sadness, anger—but embarrassment is a rare one that I can always appreciate. 
 “I…I don’t know how to flirt. It’s always awkward and I honestly feel stupid,” he mumbled, his stare pinned down at his pants. 
“I hear you,” I consoled, a faint smile crowding at my lips.
“It’s such an unspoken realm that everyone is expected to know how to do but with no explanation. Flirting is something that is also unique to each person. It  can be acts of kindness, giving compliments,—or the complete opposite. Some people like to tease, play rough, or even act cold as a form of flirting.”
Ushijima followed along with me, nodding his head every so often. 
“So then, what is the best way of flirting?” He asked.
“Well, I can’t say. —
“Let me rephrase,” He interjected. “What would a man have to do or say to you in order for you to be interested in him?”
“Wit.”
“Wit?”
“Yeah, I love witty, intelligent conversations. It could be anything and I’ll find interest in it. Just being able to express your intelligence to me—whether it be on topic you know or asking questions, I love it all. I guess to keep it short, the mind and how a man expresses his knowledge is what gets me interested.”
The presence of a faint grin lit up Ushijima’s face.
“That’s what it takes, hm…”
An air of enticement bled into the room and it shamefully claimed me as its victim. I’ll admit, I’ve never had a client as interesting as Ushijima. Aside from his genuine intrigue about sex and the ways of courting, he seems to have something more on his mind—and I wanted to know every single detail. But he plays along too well, thanks to that blank expression he wears so proudly. But he slipped up with that damn grin, now it’s my turn to play the next hand. 
I placed my hand on the open cushion beside me, the tips of my fingers drumming along the leather surface.
“Come sit, let’s do an exercise…just so it really sinks in. Maybe you’ll be able to use this as reference for the next lady that catches your eye.”
And just like that, Ushijima was swift to oblige. I was hooked on the sight of him standing from his seat, his hand toying with the buttons of his blazer. The white dress shirt he wore was finally revealed to me, the subtle hints of his muscular frame peeking through. 
His steps were calm and controlled, carefully trudging around the glass coffee table. Ushijima held himself with a confidence unmatched to any man I’ve met thus far. He was interesting to observe, and even more fun to tease. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in seeing how far we could go, all kinds of thoughts were plaguing my mind. 
As he stood over me,  I had to bite back a smile, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. 
This was turning out to be an interesting session, after all.
Ushijima placed himself on the couch at an arm’s length away, leaving an untasteful gap amongst us. Yet when my eyes had fallen on his stoic face, the man’s fair skin was budding with the innocence of pink. 
“Well don’t be shy, Wakatoshi,” I cooed. My hand patted at the spot just beside my thigh, hinting for him to move closer. 
“We are here together for quite some time, might as well get…a little close.”
With a firm nod, Ushjima bridged the gap between strangers to acquanitances among us, his body now resting snug at my side. He had yet to face me, as if he was embarrassed to do. I noticed that he kept his hands in his lap, his digits nervously fiddling around. 
I reached over to his hand, softly grazing along the back of his hand to ease his worries.
“Ushijima? You ready? We don’t have to do this, if you’re not comfortable—”
“No, let’s do it,” he huffed, his body turned towards me. “What kind of exercise are we doing?” He asked, turning his body to face me.
“Great! For the exercise, let’s pretend we’re meeting at…oh, I dunno, a bar. Do your best to try and ask me out on a date.”
“Um…Y/N…you do realize that the fact that I can’t ask anyone on a date is why we’re here, right?”
“Yes…I do, thank you for that. Use your imagination—a bar has ambiance lighting, soft music, drinks on rotation, play on the environment, and make a good impression, okay?”
Ushijima sat in silence for a moment, his eyes narrowing as the seconds passed. I could assume that he was thinking—really thinking at that. 
I almost pulled into my own daze of boredom, the color of the walls catching my eye—until the quiet mumble of his voice broke the stilled air. 
“Well…what do you drink at a bar?”
I tucked my leg beneath me as I shifted myself to give Ushijima my full and undivided attention. He mirrored me, turning so that we were both facing one another. Yet again, our eyes locked, unwilling to falter from the view we had of one another.
“I usually go for a glass of wine, I’m not a fan of heavy liquor.”
“Wine’s a good choice. Are you someone who pairs wine with food?”
I shook my head, “Not really. But, I do know that red wine goes best with some fruits, chocolate, and steak. Rosé goes best with grilled vegetables or salmon, and white is the best of both worlds.”
“Oh really?” Ushijima hummed. “I never realized wine could be so specific. Since you know so much, why not put your knowledge to the test?”
“And how are we gonna do that?”
A soft smile grew across Ushijima’s lips. He seemed to relax a bit–his shoulders laxed, his side now resting against the couch’s back cushions, he even shifted a bit closer to me too; all of which made me ease up too. I wasn’t feeling as guilty as I was before–if anything, I was pleased with the way our exercise was going.
Ushijima has such a nice, easy voice that greets the ear so kindly, and his eyes were just so alluring to stare into, I could sit here for hours just watching how his moss green hues catch the light of every hour. Not to mention that the scent of his cologne was finally welcomed into the scene, just wafting past my nose every so often. 
He had all the making of an ideal guy, so why isn’t he–
“I know a place near here, a nice restaurant with a wine cellar in the basement,” he led on. “ They have collections that date back years, and from what I know, the darker the wine, the richer…no, the sweeter it drips on the tongue. I’d like to hear your thoughts in a…professional setting, if you may.”
“I’d like that,” I nodded, a curling grin consuming my senses. “I’m sure you’d have some thoughts to tell me too.”
Ushijima shrugged, his hand coming to brace the pulse of his neck. “Honestly, there’s a lot on my mind I could tell you so much right now, but then…well…we might not make it to the restaurant. And I’m just dying to pour you a glass of wine, so…for now I’ll be paitent.”
I pushed my lips into a wading pout. I could feel my eyes softening beneath his gaze. He could find the time to tease me back while flustered like this…interesting.
“And what if I don’t have the same patience?” I pried, a sly smirk pressed onto my lips.
That’s when Ushijima sealed the end of our improv scene, bringing his hull of a body to overshadow my own. His lips came to fill the shell of my ear with an esteemed chuckle. His breath painted against my skin, awakening my nerves to greet him. I was helpless, at his every whim—and not a fiber in me wanted it any other way. 
“Then I’ll just have to tease you ‘til you break…right?”
He drew himself back gradually, our dilated eyes catching sight of each other once more. I was at a loss for words, my lips agape beneath the heat of shock.  At that moment, all I could think about what would follow—his lips crashing into mine, his hands bracing every curve of my body. I wanted to be under him, to have to stare up into those eyes to plead for relief from the stirring heat flaring about my body. 
But then again, this isn’t some magic fairytale…it’s an appointment.
“How was that?” He asked, his words breaking my sinful chain of thought. 
“Good,” I complimented, hiding my roused thoughts behind a smile. “You’ll most definitely get a date like that.”
“Well, I might have gotten the date, but I wanna be able to…y’know…”
“To what, Ushijima? You gotta be a little more clear than that,” I smirked. 
His skin began to flush itself of its tan shade in lieu of the trickles of rose dotting the highs of his cheek. 
“To…please a woman.”
“Please? Like…please and thank you? I hate speaking in code…especially in a professional setting.” I continued to press. 
If I had known he was so shy towards the topic of sex earlier, then we would’ve been able to ease into it. But for him to tease me like that…it’s only fair I return the gracious favor.
Ushijima’s eyes shot wide, a gasp breaking his lips apart. He was reluctant, but he gave in, biting at his bottom lip.
“Fine…I wanna know how to be good at sex…happy?”
“Oh, well to be good at sex is just the same as being a good lover. And I can show you how with this…" I trailed off.
 I quickly rose from my spot on the couch, setting my sights on my bookcase. A few steps brought in front of the shelved plethora of knowledge, eyes searching for the spine of the book needed for the moment.
"Ah! Here we are," my hand plucking out the book from its peers. 
“This…is the Kama Sutra. It’s an ancient Indian text written by the Hindu philosopher, Vātsyāyana Mallanaga; that explains how both men and women can lead rich sexual and social lifestyles. The Kama Sutra has become associated with sex positions over the years, but it doesn’t make it a heavy presence within the book.”
I returned to Ushijima’s side, seating myself beside him with the book in tow. I rested the Kama Sutra on his lap, allowing him to absorb the famed text. I watched as his eyes flitted about the cover, tracing every word to be found.
“Wanna flip through it?” I suggested, softly tugging at the book cover. 
“Yeah,” Ushijima nodded. “I’m interested.”
From the moment I opened the book, Ushijima and I were bound by the knowledge of the old world. The pages were written in english, yet the message was something that transcended all known languages. I went on to explain to him how the kama sutra devled into how sex between two lovers should be enjoyable for everyone, and how the pleasure of the woman would lead to ultimate satisfaction for both parties.
Though I’ve read it before for papers, presentations, and even for my dissertation, reading it with Ushijima was an experience that struck the strings of my heart in a special way. 
Maybe it was becasue he expressed a genuine interest in the questions he asked. Or maybe it was the cute reactions he made when things finally clicked. Or maybe it was the plain fact that I had someone beside me to read it with for once. 
From time to time, I took a few moments to study Ushijima’s reaction to his answered questions. He would blink a few times, as though he had to internalize all of what was said. Then, he’d peered over to me with a smile curling up the corners of his mouth.
Our chase of knowledge led us to the chapter on positions, the page’s title calling for Ushijima’s attention to be riled. 
“This chapter looks short. Where are the positions?”
“Well, the Kama Sutra actually doesn’t have any positions, it gives advice on how to select and personalize positions between lovers.”
“Huh,” he huffed. “…and what does that look like?
“Want me to show you?”
A blanket of silence fell over him, and he’s back to wearing that blank, sedated look on his face.
Damn, was that too strong? It was a little forward but I know it’s nothing—
“If it’s not too much…I’d be honored.”
“Well, then,” I grinned as I placed the book atop of the glass tabletop. “Let’s get started.”
Ushijima’s hand nuzzled along my waist, guiding me  over his lap to straddle him.
“You can just sit right on me, I think we’re getting a little closer, yeah?”
“I think we are, but we can get closer too, y’know.”
“And can we do that?” 
With that burning question of his, I was forced to bear the weight of what lust looks in his eyes—his pupils dilating, his eyelids growing heavy, and a mischievous smirk tracing his lips. 
“Do you wanna be on top?” I quizzed, toying with the top button of his dress shirt.
“Well I’m just here to observe, so I think you should be on top,” he said, leaning back against the couch. He brought me down with him, his hands nestled along my lower back. Just like that, my chest was smothered against the tauntingly chiseled mass of his own. 
My hands languidly skimmed along the face of Ushijima’s shirt. He held still as my touch consumed him and his senses whole, his lungs coaxed into a steam of shaky shallow, breaths. 
“Y’know, we have to find a way to make this position our own, make sure we fit each other just right,” I hummed, draping my arms along his broad shoulders. I lowered myself further into his groin,  pressing up against something hard…and twitchy.
That’s when I felt it, a thick bulge nested right between Ushijima and I. 
Men are so easy, it’s so cute. 
That stoic face of his was cracking right before my eyes—his eyes screwed shut, lips stunning with a puffy pout, his cheeks brushed with the innocent hues of blush. He looked so lost in his own heat, desperately squirming for a remedy. 
“Oh my-fuck, Y/N. What do you want from me? I’ll do anything, just say the word!”
I brought my thumb to tug along the plush of Ushijima’s bottom lip, his glossed skin clinging to my touch.
“Aww, where’s the patience you had earlier? I thought you were gonna tease me? But seeing you like this…it’s a good look on you too, Wakatoshi.”
A gentle grin eased itself into Ushijima’s features, fueled by the same salacious nature dotting his eyes. His hold over me shifted, his hand slipping down to grasp at the thick curve of my ass. He even found the chance to snake his hand between us to cup at the underside of my thigh. He kept me near, forcing his chest to curl into mine as he sat up once more. 
“I can guarantee you one thing, Y/N.” Ushijima huffed, his heavy eyes peering up at me. 
“Oh, and what’s that?”
“After me, you won’t ever need another lover.”
My hazy stare fluttered between his eyes and his lips, capturing the sight of It was almost likat was all I needed to finally be sealed beneath his trance. And because of that, I was able to press a soft peck onto Ushijima’s lips, breaking away just to whisper words of encouragement for his racing mind to catch. 
“Then prove it.”
Sharing my spite, Ushijima’s lips bared one final smirk before crashing against my own. His kiss told me all I needed to know–soft, puffy, and clinging to my own. The supply curves of his lips caught every pushing tide I offered, ignithing a ravenous intent deep within us both. 
His hands roamed over my body, claiming every curve, every inch of me for his taking. It’s dizzying to have him like this, a nonchalant man turned hungry for every crumb to offer. He was getting restless, his hips bucking for friction all over again. 
Maybe I was so focused on how dumb his lips had driven me or his hands tracing my body like a sculpture to his sculpture, but how he managed to have me pinned beneath him and smothered into the leather cushion is a mystery to me alone, but I wasn’t about to complain. 
How could I when he smothered me beneath the thick of his chest, sending my head into a dizzied frenzy But with the way his lips carried such care to dance with mine was enough for me to forgive him for being so needy. The same needy–no, greedy nature made him take control without any room for debate, and I surely wasn’t planning on starting anything I couldn’t finish.
“Mm, Y/N?” He mumbled, breaking our kiss.
“Hm?"
“If I remember correctly, didn’t the book say I should make you cum a few times? Through your pleasure, I'll find mine right?"
"Look at you, guess you really are learning. I think it did...so what are we gonna do about that?"
I didn’t need to hear the words to know what he had planned. I lifted my hips to help him, his hands stripping me free of my pants. 
Ushijima slotted himself between the couch and the table, clutching at my waist from below. 
His arms hooked around my thighs, his hands resting within the crease of my thighs, his filled palms squeezing at the plush fat. He seemingly ignored the fact that my underwear—the most annoying fact to exist—was still on.
Until his fingers began to trace along the pink lace. Slowly, carefully, and lazily he dragged the pad of his digit all over my panties, feeding some new whim of his. 
I watched him for a while as he led with his own agenda. Until I couldn’t sit still without some answer. 
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Am I?” He retorted, his eyes darting to meet mine.
His touch burned with the thrill of tease as he gradually followed the edges towards the inseam of my panties. The pad of his middle finger was all he relied on as he carefully traced the puffy lips of my pussy. 
His finger sunk between my clothes lips, just for his discovery to be rewarded with the bud of my clit. That’s when Ushijima pinned his stare on me, antagonizing me into a game of endurance. 
Those aimless strokes turned into a series of sloppy circles, Ushijima claiming my clit as his latest victim in his game of taunts.
A whine cracked from behind my lips, something was stirring deep within me. He’s just teasing me but yet it was enough for my legs to tremble and my core to grow heavy with desire. How the fuck was he doing this to me?
A sigh from Ushijima broke my train of jumbled thoughts, bringing me back into the hellish scene. 
His breath fanned over the supple skin of my inner thigh, the heat inducing tremors to rake through my limbs. 
“Aw, I’m making a mess, “ Ushijima sighed. “Oh well.”
He drew himself back from me, fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. He plucked his shirt open one button at a time, stopping just midway of his chest. 
I closed my legs, allowing him to tug my soaked pink pantiesf rom beneath me and off somewhere in the room. Ushijima returned to his post between my thighs—prying my legs apart for him to fill once again. His heavy arms curled around my thighs, his cheek nuzzled against the plumped skin. 
My face swelled with heat as he continued his marvels, his hand cupping my cunt. His thick fingers settled against my lips, spreading the fat supple mounds apart for him to see. 
“Oh, Y/N…” He mumbled, pulling my hips closer to his awaiting tongue. 
A scattered sigh tore out from Ushijima’s mouth, tickling my bare pussy with its heat. 
His heavy eyes were pinned to the raw sight he created of my pussy. I watched as his sights flickered over the scene, enticing his teeth to digging into his bottom lip. Determination painted his face with its fierce hues that it even fanned over to me. I’ve never had a man look at my cunt with such passion. It was enough for me to even succumb to the heat of it all. 
“Mm, fuck. Just lemme…” Ushijima trailed off mindlessly. 
Before he could even finish his thought, his lips were already busy with peppering kisses along my dewed folds. Kisses that were wet, sloppy and kiss carried the sweet, lewd cries of Ushijima coaxing my clit to join in his dance for two.
It’s filthy the way Ushijima works at my clit—his tongue lolls about my clit lazily, leaving glimmering soapy trails of spit to drip past my folds.
Every lash he delivers is a thoughtful one; the warm, soft flat of his tongue dragging against the puffy pearl, the sticky mess he’d made out of my clit clinging to the grooves of his tongue.
His lips are like velvet, left plump by the kisses we’d given on each just moments before. And to have those same luscious lips envelope my clit into a world that was nothing short of dizzying. 
Just the thought of his ministrations alone left my clit spry, the bundle of nerves twitching within the confines of Ushijima’s sloppy mouth. He busied himself with a soporific rhythm, suckling at the rathe bud just for kicks.
Ushijima peered at me through dilated pupils, those olive hues flickering all about my face. I couldn’t imagine the sight he had of me being committed to memory: puffy lips spilling with drool, close eyes screwed shut, and crude, whimsical curses ripping from my mouth. 
“Mmhm, talk to me, Angel. feels good?”
“Mm, yesyesyes! Oh fuck, just like that Ushijima!” my voice weakly keened. 
Awe glistened in my eyes as I watched him, mindlessly chasing an orgasm for my body to revel in. Yet, my drowsy lids were pinned to his jaw, bearing the weight of his hunger. Something came over me, a sense of adoration. So, I reached out to cup his jaw, grazing along what  worked so hard to pull an orgasm out of me. 
My thumb settled along the highs of his cheek, stroking at his flustered skin. He’s doing such a good job on my behalf, how couldn’t I thank him?
“Oh, that’s it. Y’re doing a good job, Ushijima,” I praised, sharing a weak grin. 
“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, pretty girl,” he chuckled softly.
In place of his lips, Ushijima brought a single digit nip at my entrance. He drew lazy circles around my slit, prepping me for what’s to come.
He’s gentle, easing barely half an inch of his digit inside. My walls grew lax for Ushijima, sucking  his long thick fingers to fill my pussy.
He made me so sensitive that just off that, I was whimpering out babbles to fall on no one’s ears in particular. Yet Ushijima still took heed to be kind with me.
“Shhh, just take me, baby. ‘m gonna go as slow as you want me to,” he assured. 
I didn’t feel his hand move from my thigh, but it did, reaching out for my own. Through my drunken senses, I managed to welcome his hand into mine, our fingers folding over one another.  
Bit by bit, Ushijima’s finger filled my gummy walls. He really was gentle, moving when my walls were lax and willing. He drove his finger to the hilt, only to slowly pull his digit back.
“Oh…fuckkk…s’ pretty,” he slurred, passing a glance back towards me. 
“Tell me where you want me.”
“Just curl your finger up--- oooh fuck!” I mewled, tossing my head back against the couch.
My hands followed suit, splitting away from Ushijima to grip along the couch’s frame behind my head. When I had Ushijima in my sights again, it wasn’t without a smug grin crowding his visage.
“So…is it here?” Ushijima asked, the pad of his digit lightly pulsing at my sweet spot.
“Mhm, right there. Just keep doing that.”
“Aww, Y/N, you shouldn’t have told me that—‘m gonna have fun with you now.”
Ushijima snickered as he returned to my clit, inviting the perked bud to melt over his tongue all over again. I trembled at the combined notions, sending an arch to overwhelm my spine.
“W-Wait, Ushi–That’s too much, ‘m already so close!”
Ushijima merely nodded, my words essentially falling onto deaf ears. Electricity licked all throughout my body, sending twitches to rattle my weak legs. I couldn’t take it, Ushijima’s finger toying with my sweet spot, he was setting me on course for the high of my life. 
“W-Wakatoshi! Toshi–fuck, ‘m cumming!” I cried, my lungs grasping for what air could enter. 
Ushijima’s finger plugged itself at my core, bringing a seizing crash to break over my body. Every ounce of me held firm, shivering to bear the weight of my chased high. My hips waved against the pad of his digit, riding out the end of my ecstasy off whatever friction would be found. 
Ushijima withdrew his finger from my cunt, leaving my poor hold  bare and gaping for something else to fill me. He brought that sullied digit straight to his mouth , sucking my honey off his fingers as he gleamed over me. Sporadic breaths chimed through the sex-stained air, my chest buckling to keep up with me.
“That’s a good girl,” Ushijima cooed. “Cumming so hard for me. Look at what you did to me.” 
Ushijima stood from my legs, his hand racing to grip at his crotch. And he was right—his pants were strained thanks to his bulge, the fabric just barely holding itself together.  But what caught my attention was the bubbly mess of precum foaming through his slacks. 
“Didn’t even touch me and you made me cum, should be proud,” he chuckled.”But that’s fine, we’re even…for now.”
“And what does that mean?” I asked, shifting myself to lay along the couch. 
“Let’s find out what I mean together.”
Ushijima quickly stripped himself of his clothes coaxing me to strip of whatever clothing was left on me as well. As he removed his clothing, my eyes hinged on his bare body—taut muscles highlighted his towering frame. He’s ribbed with strength chiseled to suit his build.
A thick trail of faint brown hair from his belly button guided down to the sight resting between his legs. He’s big, cock so heavy with lust that it needed no help to rise on its own. His cock was topped by a thick, fat reddened bulb, dribbling with glossy tears. His length was tanned, adorned with veins from the poor pressure building at his core. I watched as Ushijima settled himself between my legs, his dick slapping down against my tummy.
"See? Look how deep I'm gonna go," he smirked, his hand gripped at the base of his cock.
I laid my head on the couch’s armrest, lying in wait for Ushijima's next move. 
Ushijima placed his painfully hard cock to lay within my folds, my clit smothered beneath the weight. 
“I’m gonna go slow, okay?"
I nodded as I peered down to watch Ushijima nudged at my hole with the head of his cock, slowly prying my slit to greet his girth. 
“Fuh—pretty pussy’s taking me in already. Griping me s’ fucking tight,” Ushijima seethed, his hands griping along the couch’s cushions.  
My walls supplied Ushijima’s cock with gushing kisses, fluttering about his throbbing length. He kept working to bury himself to the hilt, dipping his hips to engulf my senses with nothing but him—his scent, his ardor, his fat bulbous heat fixated on  digging out my cunt.
“Y’re so big, Toshi! Fuck, go deeper!”
“Nuh uh, “Ushijima tutted as his eyes came to a screwed shut. “Don’t be so greedy, Baby. I got you, just…—shit—feel me, okay? His honeyed voice whimpered. 
I nodded softly, watching as Ushijima’s hips finally granted my wish. I couldn’t help but squeeze him in place, my walls fluttering around him. He was just so huge, filling out every inch of my pussy like it was nothing. My lashes grew heavy from the bubbling sear of tears lining my eyes. This pain—an intoxicating stretch sent me down a spiral of, being so full like this by Ushijima was something  I was enthralled by the feeling of being so full and stretched around him. 
Ushijima took notice too as he looked down at the unfolding scene. 
“Aw look, you took every inch! ‘m s-so…proud of you,” Ushijima huffed out. 
He leaned over me, pressing his chest flush against my own, resting his forehead within the crook of my neck. He brought his world crashing into mine, the heat of our bodies melding into one. I could even sense his heartbeat, thumping a languid aria into my skin. All I wanted to do was hold him, to have this moment last for as long as we could. But considering the throbbing mess he’d been reduced to, lust reigned over all other senses.
“I’m gonna start moving,” Ushijima mumbled into my dewed skin. “Just…talk to me, Princess. Just wanna see that face when you cum for me again…so fuckin’ bad.” 
He reeled his hips back weakly, striping my walls of the salacious fill of him. He drew himself just enough to have the tip just barely slipping from out of me, only for him to stuff every inch of him to the hilt. 
“T-Toshi! Ohmygosh!” I squealed, sending my hands to brace along the thick of his forearms. 
“I-I know. ‘m sorry! H-Here, gonna kiss it all better,” Ushijima groaned, his lips sloppily crashing into mine. 
Through all this, Ushijima’s hips rocked gently, working a cadence just for me. Slow yet deep allowed the red, weeping bulb of his cock to chip away at my need for dominance. Each reel of his cock enticed my walls to ease in his care, granting him to move that much quicker. 
And within those passing moments, the quiet squelches erupted into the lewd cymbals of clashing skin breaking into the air. Ushijima drove his cock to the hilt with ease. 
The same fate befell him, his quiet and restrained grunts now morphed into quivering sobs. His lips now dressed a heavy pout, dripping with his spit and carrying his weary words.
“Keep squeezing like that ‘nd I’m gonna cum."
“M-Me too, Toshi! I’m so close!”
I perched myself onto my elbows, urgent to close the valley left to exist between our two worked bodies. 
Not a word had to fall from my lawless tongue for Ushijima to soothe my wants. He leaned in, hunching over to blur our worlds into one. His hand snaked around to brace the nape of my neck, bestowing a gentle grip over me just to keep me close. He pressed his forehead flush against my own, beads of sweat dotting my skin.
Our lips remained poised in the heat of our budding passion, catching every whimsical babble we had to each other..
I couldn’t resist smothering him in a kiss, lazily catching every moan to ring from his chest. He was working so hard on my behalf, driving himself mad, sweaty, and depleted just to please me—oh, how lucky was I?
He broke away from our messy kiss, muttering some mantra that seemed to grasp his concern more.
He retreated back onto his haunches, pinning his sights on the messy canvas he’d made of my cunt. His thumb, the pad of his digit etching loose loops over the cherried pearl. 
I reached out to brace his wrist, pulling his hand to lay atop my tummy.
“Nuh uh, don’t wanna cum like that. J-just keep—fuck! Please don’t stop!” I sobbed, rolling my ensnared hips to match Ushijima’s tempo.
“Aww cumming already? Better make a mess or else I'm not stopping til you do.”
“Ooo-oh fuck, I-I  can make a mess! Just fr’ you.”
From that pledge Ushijima and I made, a fever dream broke out over the room. A dream fueled by sinful fervor that claimed any sense Ushijima and I had down to nothing. All we had on the brain was each other, doing our own part helping each meet our peaks.
As for me, he’s rendered me dumb and drunk over his cock, feeding my sweet spot with his deliciously thick girth. Dumb hiccuping babbles were all I could muster. My plushy walls were consumed by a familiar flutter, my inevitable high teetering on the edge.
“ToshiToshi, right there! I’m gonna—!" The word trapped itself within my throat, only to be replaced by a blubbering whimper.
A spell of heat licked at every nerve in my body. My eyes were sent rolling into the back of my head as my overwhelmed body coaxed my poor ruined cunt to weep,  a burst of tears gushing  over Ushijima’s flexed abdomen.  
“Good fucking girl, making a mess just like I asked. I wanna—fuck!—'m wanna cum with you too!”
The peak of my high left me just barely conscious, my eyes heavy with the sudden heft of fatigue. Through the thick gathering of my lashes, I gawked at Ushijima, his own nirvana finally crashing down around him. 
“Oh—‘m cumming! Y/N, I'm gonna cum!”
Ushijima trembled as his rutting hips came to a stuttering halt. He frantically ripped  himself from inside of me, the roused nerves of his cock sent into a twitching frenzy. Nuzzling the bulbous head along my inner thigh, the warm tears of white painted skin, followed by a clogged groan pouring from Ushijima’s gaping mouth. 
He collapsed on top of me, his lungs desperately heaving for air. I laced my arms around him, taking my digits through his unkempt hair as he came down. 
“Shhh, it’s okay, I got you. Just relax,” I hummed softly. 
Ushijima and I lay on that couch for a while longer, neither of us ready to move. As I combed through his hair, he kept a hand on my stomach, tapping away at some tempo to soothe himself. Just a quiet, peaceful reflection of the practices he and I had done.
He was right, I don't think I'll need another lover after that. My legs were practically useless, my throat sore, and my body was still reeling from the temors of my high. Even Ushijima still shivered from time to time. That moment was something straight out of a movie, calm, quiet, and filled with a growing fondness.
To my surprise, Ushijima was the first to break the silence with a question.
“So about our date, what time works—“
“Oh! You were serious about that?!” 
Ushijima nodded, “Well…yes. I know it was an exercise but I really wanted to take you out somewhere nice. And I actually do know a place around here with a huge wine cellar.”
 My head fell into a tilt as I studied Ushijima for a second. He’s back to his regular “stoic” self but this time every feature in his face was softened—his brows, his lips, his eyes; all carried a bout of sincerity. I simply had no heart to deny him, especially now knowing what kind of man he was in the face of rapture.
“Y’know what, Ushijima,” I purred as my hand reached to cup his cheek.
“I’d like that.”
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TAGS: @po3ticb3auty @dabilovesme @ebiharachan @kenmasbimbo @pixelsanji @slaughterakira @woahhajime @pulchritxde-blog @hannas16 @champagnej @shuxjodie @just-yer-average-key @bontensbabygirl @tojitsukaisen @serenareiss @dejwrld @screampied @omniuravity @sweeneyblue1 @yukihime-mikeys-girl @kazusugar @missyasma @simpliheavenli @desiray562 @sleepilysworld @lovemegood @luvrdrop @nuttyunknowndetective-blog @tojibreedingme @widepipepaladiknight @nekoriots @rainycami @tonaken @holychocopie @bloobrryktty @hon3ybee-3 @dabis0bitch @your-next-daydream @mx-luvzz @akiko0-0 @whore02 @tojianddabisslut @dana-fite @downtownbabya @littlemochi @prettiestjade @luvvvjada @keijimilk
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peppermintsparker · 1 year
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not to be dramatic but i do actually wish i could just lie down and cry sometimes
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kentopedia · 3 months
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nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.
so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.
still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.
the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.
he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.
because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.
it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.
naturally, no one came back twice.
he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.
though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.
by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.
by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.
on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.
he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.
“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”
“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“
but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.
“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”
a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”
though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.
“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“
“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”
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leclsrc · 7 months
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wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1
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genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...
word count: 3.6k  
It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this
auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!
nsfw warnings under the cut!
18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie
It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day. 
To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.
The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—
“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.
His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”
“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.
You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes. 
“What about Max?”
Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”
“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.
“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”
“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”
The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.
Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.
His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.
OK, nice. Did u need something?
No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?
Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.
I thought we agreed no contact unless business
He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.
Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.
Yeah. Got a drink.
I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.
How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.
Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit
Yeah? I missed you today.
Really?
A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.
He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?
You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading. 
So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.
The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.
And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.
It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.
I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.
He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.
So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.
He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.
In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.
He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.
The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.
He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.
You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.
Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.
His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”
One week later
“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”
The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.
You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka. 
Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.
“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”
You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”
“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”
“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”
“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”
“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.
“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”
“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”
He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”
“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.
“Wanna test that out? Come play.”
Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.
“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.
“You got it wrong. Teaching.”
He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.
If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.
You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?
You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.
Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.
“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh. 
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.
You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—
“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.
“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.
“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.
“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.
“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.
“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward. 
“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.
“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.
“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”
“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.
“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.
It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed. 
He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.
“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”
“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.
“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control. 
“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”
“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time. 
“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”
His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.
“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.” 
Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.
“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.
“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.” 
You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.
3K notes · View notes
joelsgreys · 3 months
Text
captive
Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: You find yourself missing your captor while he’s out on an early morning hunt with the rest of the group.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. IMPLIED PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION. mentions of Joel’s group murdering reader’s group, it’s implied her family members were also killed, Joel pretty much kidnaps reader and keeps her as his own, stockholm syndrome, reader deals with a lot of very distressing and conflicting feelings, Joel isn’t too creepy or extremely dark, but he is still not a good person, mentions of Tommy. VERY BRIEF SMUT in the form of cockwarming, daddy kink but i didn’t go overboard this time, pet names (honey, baby, babygirl, sweetheart) if i missed anything, you can POLITELY let me know because if i missed anything, it was purely accidental. minimal editing.
PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.
if this isn’t your thing, that’s fine, just scroll on by.
word count: 1.4k
a/n: i might actually throw up idk. i’ve had this itch to try dark joel and seeing as i have major writer’s block with all my other wips i decided to just scratch the itch. this is a little out of my comfort zone but i actually ended up feeling pleased with what i wrote. this is my personal take on dark/raider joel, i’m sure it is very out of character but it’s fanfiction so…yeah. here it is.
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It’s the rain that rouses you from your sleep.
It beats down heavily on the remote cabin’s tin roof.
Loud. Much too loud.
You roll over, settling yourself on your side.
The mattress is old, worn, rotting beneath the sheets.
You can’t complain, though. At least you have a bed.
Everybody else is forced to sleep on the hard floor.
He always gets the room with the bed.
As his special girl, that means you always get the room with the bed too.
It’s not quite as flattering as one would believe.
He only ever wants the bedroom for one reason—to keep you behind a locked door so you can’t run.
You sigh softly and stare out the window. He’d secured that too, made certain that it couldn’t be opened from the inside.
Closing your eyes, you try and go back to sleep.
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Sleep doesn’t come.
His absence is starting to bother you.
You’ve been with him for an entire season now.
You’re getting used to him.
The sound of his voice. 
The warmth of his body.
The taste of his lips.
You can’t even sleep without him next to you.
“Fuck,” you whisper, clutching the stale sheets, balling them in your fists out of frustration.
How was it possible? How could you be missing him?
He had taken everything from you.
Your family.
Your home. 
Your innocence.
He was holding you captive. He was a monster.
But a monster doesn’t keep you safe.
Doesn’t clothe you.
Doesn’t feed you.
Doesn’t protect you.
He did all of those things and more. 
Is that why you feel so empty without him beside you?
Is that why you’re no longer so certain you would run if you were given the chance to escape him?
You fucking hated him for what he’d done.
Yet here you are, aching for him to come back to you.
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It’s another hour before you hear the lock clicking. 
Joel pushes through the door, quietly closing it behind him.
“Y’awake?” he asks, slipping his pack off his shoulders.
“Mhm,” you answer with your back to him. “I am.”
You hear the sound of his pack hitting the floor.
His worn leather boots being kicked off. 
His rifle being set down, propped against the wall.
“How was the hunt?”
You can feel him freeze as he’s taking off his jacket.
Getting you to willingly speak to him had always been a lot like pulling teeth. Difficult, almost impossible.
When he doesn’t respond, you roll over to face him.
There’s a swoop in your tummy.
Joel is drenched from head to toe. His blue denim shirt clings to his broad frame and his dark, graying curls are slicked back away from his face.
He’s got such a handsome face.
Monsters aren’t supposed to have handsome faces.
He raises an eyebrow. “You’re really askin’ me how the hunt went?” Suspicion laces his tone. “Why? Y’worried you won’t eat tonight?”
Of course you weren’t.
Joel Miller doesn’t let you go hungry.
When food is scarce, he makes sure you eat first. If he notices you rubbing your tummy because your portion wasn’t enough, he’ll give you his own portion.
He takes care of you.
“No.” You pause and sit up. The sheets you two share fall away from your body, leaving your soft, supple breasts on full display for him. “Just wanted to know how your morning went. That’s all.”
It’s not your tits that make his cock twitch against the zipper of his jeans—it’s the sincerity that flashes across your features, the sound of it in the tone of your voice.
You’re being sweet to him.
He clears his throat lightly.
“Went real good. Brought down a deer. Female, ‘bout a hundred pounds or so. Enough to keep all of us well fed for the next couple of weeks,” he says with a nod. “Was pissin’ rain the entire time but it was worth it. Tommy’s in the shed out back right now dressin’ it so we can get a stew started.” He pauses. “You’re gonna get a proper meal tonight, babygirl. Belly’s gonna be nice and full.”
He’s not just talking about food and you know it.
You make an effort to meet his gaze, but you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to do it, not when you remembered how he’d taken you away from your family—how he had carried you over his shoulder, kicking and screaming as his people raided your camp and slaughtered every last member of your group because that’s what Joel Miller had ordered them to do.
Looking him in the eye might be the one thing you will never, ever be able to do.
“It’s cold,” you murmur after a minute. “You should get out of those wet clothes before you get sick.”
With a subtle nod, Joel turns around and starts peeling off his clothes until he’s completely naked. He uses an old rag to dry himself off as best as he can, although it doesn’t do much for him.
You can’t help yourself and stare—your gaze drags over the strong muscles of his back and shoulders, how they flex and ripple beneath his skin with every single one of his movements. Arousal pools between your thighs and all you can do is fucking hate yourself for wanting it, for wanting him.
“S’pretty early still,” he states, his back still to you as he runs the rag through his hair. “Y’should try to get some more sleep.”
The confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think about stopping it.
“I couldn’t sleep while you were gone.”
Surprised, he turns around.
Almost immediately, your eyes fall to his cock.
Even when he isn’t fully hard, he’s still so fucking big.
“Is that so?” Joel asks, sounding rather pleased. 
“Yes,” you say, softly. “I—I missed you.”
His lips turn upwards into a subtle, faint grin.
“Yeah?” he coos. “My sweet little girl missed me while I was gone? Hm?” Slowly, he approaches the bed. It dips slightly and the frame creaks as he plants a knee on the mattress and leans over towards you. Gently, Joel takes your chin between his index finger and thumb. “Y’need Daddy by your side so you can sleep, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you whisper, warm tears glazing over your eyes.
It’s bad enough your body welcomed him so easily.
Now your heart was starting to do the same.
And then there was your mind.
What if that stopped fighting him too?
Part of you is afraid it already has.
Joel climbs into bed, joining you under the sheets.
“M’here, my pretty girl. C’mere, honey.” He coaxes you to lay on your side and pulls you back against his chest. His skin is still damp, frigid from having been out in the elements, but somehow he’s still warm. “That better?”
“Need you closer,” you mumble, wiggling against him.
Joel groans, his thick cock hard and throbbing against the small of your back. He nips at your bare shoulder as his hand drags down the length of your body and slips between your thighs. “Christ, babygirl. Pussy’s soakin’ wet for me. Looks like she missed me while I was gone too, didn’t she, sweetheart?”
He runs his finger along your slick, silky folds.
“Daddy,” you whimper, bucking into his hand.
“Don’t worry, honey. Daddy knows what you need.”
Joel pulls his hand from between your legs.
You almost cry—you’re so fucking desperate for him. 
And you shouldn’t be. 
He reaches in between your bodies, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock. Without warning, he slips it into your tight, aching cunt, sheathing himself in your warm, wet heat in one smooth stroke.
You choke out a sob.
It’s always overwhelming, that initial stretch.
That fullness, the feeling of him being in your belly.
“S’alright, sweetheart. S’alright. I know you can take it,” he soothes you. “You’re such a good girl for me. Always take my cock so fuckin’ well. So good for me, baby. You feel better now that Daddy’s cock is buried inside your pretty little pussy?”
He drapes an arm around you, pulling your back flush against his chest.
“Yes,” you breathe, placing your hand on top of his.
Joel feathers a kiss onto your neck.
“Go to sleep, babygirl. M’here. Ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he promises you.
That shouldn’t be a comfort to you. But it is.
You close your eyes, your fingers subconsciously lacing together with his as you start to drift.
Cunt full of his cock, you fall asleep in your captor’s arms.
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divider credit to @saradika🤍
2K notes · View notes
gimmeurtmi · 6 months
Text
groupie — 2min
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pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader x lee minho
tags: established relationship, polyamory, rock band!au, smut!!!🔞
warnings: swearing, throuple, mxm, sex in a public setting (but they're alone), possessive!minho, he's so jealous, use of “bunny”, “bubs”, "baby," and "babe", they jokingly refer to reader as their groupie many times, talking about putting out to get famous (no one does it ofc), facials, lmk if i forgot
inspo: 2min in the rockstar teaser pics.
notes: i can't not get carried away when it's 2min. this was meant to be just smut but i guess it kinda has a bit of plot and also it was not meant to be this long. it's also filthy as shit.
{ wc: 4126}
You leaned against the old, rusty sink, waiting patiently for your boyfriends to finish whatever they were getting up to. 
There was a constant bloop noise, as other than rusty the sink was also leaking despite your attempts to fully shut the stream off. 
As soon as they finished their set you rushed towards the most secluded place you could find. There was a toilet at the very edge of the backstage area of the venue with a sign that read “out of order”. The sign itself was so old that the marker used to write the words out was already starting to fade, a light layer of dust turning the white page to an unattractive beige. 
Minho texted you just before he walked on stage, saying that he needed you. You told him where you were as soon as you settled. 
After a few minutes the door opened slowly, creaking loudly and echoing horribly against the stained walls of the toilets. 
“Why here?” Minho asked, planting a small kiss in your hair. 
“Having sex in your dressing room stresses me out,” you rolled your eyes, “I can’t have fun when I keep feeling like we’re gonna get caught.”
“So you’d rather have sex in what is clearly a drug den?” He chuckled, wiping his hands against the counter where a few white specks were scattered around. 
“No one’s gonna come in here though,” you reasoned. 
“Unless you wanna wait until we go home?” Minho asked softly, his eyes sparkling at you. 
You shook your head quickly. “When is Seungmin gonna finish, do you think?” 
“Probably not for another hour,” Minho clicked his tongue, “some guys came backstage and started kissing his ass.”
You chuckled, “shouldn’t we go save him then?” 
“No,” Minho shook his head, “they’re producers.”
You let out a small gasp, eyebrows high. “So why aren’t we there making him look better?” 
“Because I’ve been hard through the whole set and I need your help,” he whined, snaking his hands around your waist. 
You giggled at him before planting a comforting kiss to his forehead. “You did really well either way, didn’t even notice it.”
It was true, Minho did a wonderful job during their performance and luckily for him, being a drummer meant no one in the audience could see the problem he evidently had. 
“I fucking hate him, by the way,” Minho mumbled as he buried his head into your neck. He planted small kisses on your skin, rubbing his palms around your back. 
“Let me guess,” you sighed, “he left you high and dry seconds before you guys went on stage?” 
“How did you know?” 
“He looked especially smug,” you giggled, smiling widely at Minho’s annoyed expression. 
“Help me,” Minho whined again. 
“Why am I being made to clean his mess?” You exclaimed with a chuckle. 
“Because,” he whined. You shook your head, chuckling at his antics. 
It’s not that you didn’t want to help him with his problem, it was the only thing you were thinking about as you watched their performance. Minho was incredibly attractive when he played his drums, even more so with his new black hair—long enough to cover his eyes. The black eyeshadow you helped him put on before the show looked beautiful behind his bangs. 
Now his eye makeup was slightly smudged from the sweat and the warm bright lights he was under. It made his eyes look darker somehow, more dangerous, even if he was whining at you like the sensitive person he actually is. But only you and Seungmin knew that side of him—everyone else thought he was another asshole wanna be rockstar like so many others were. 
Minho leaned in to press his lips against yours softly, rubbing his thumb against your cheek lightly. “You’re staring, bunny.” 
“Just admiring how well I did your makeup tonight,” you say, voice too thin to be at all believable. 
“You wanna suck my dick so bad,” Minho chuckled, leaning in to kiss you with far more intent than before. 
You didn’t answer, because that would mean pulling away from the kiss—and that’s the last thing you wanted. You grabbed onto his oversized shirt, pulling him even closer to you as your tongues clashed noisily. 
He squeezed your hips tightly before he backed you up into the counter quickly, the pair of you stumbling as you climbed onto the solid surface with Minho’s blind help. 
He didn’t pull away from the kiss once, sucking and nibbling at your bottom lip while his hand buried in your hair. 
He didn’t waste any more time, bringing his hand between your bodies to softly rub against your clothed core. You mirrored his actions, rubbing him through his dark jeans. 
In pure desperation, the pair of you started moaning loudly at the rush of pleasure. 
As soon as you started playing with his zipper Minho pulled away, enough to fish for the condom he shoved into his pocket earlier that day. He asked you to hold onto it as he quickly shoved his jeans down—a small clatter noise following his action as his drumsticks fell out of his back pocket and onto to the floor. 
You jumped off the counter, rushing to pull your own pants down. Minho rubbed your hips softly, kissing you quickly before he flipped you around—his dick rubbing against your ass as he pulled your back flat against his chest. 
“You don’t need any prep?” He kisses your shoulder. 
“Had too much time on my hands in the morning,” you chuckled. 
Minho rolled his eyes at you with a soft smile sitting on his fond face. He eagerly grabbed the condom from you, throwing the wrapper to the floor as he quickly rolled it onto his dick. 
He didn’t waste any time as soon as you gave him a reassuring nod, sinking all the way inside you. 
Although you did use your toy in the morning, enough time has passed since then. Minho was stretching you fully, the sting slightly uncomfortable as he started to move. 
He could notice, given the lack of your usual loud moaning, and so he made sure to distract you from it by sucking onto your neck.
The sensation paired with his hands digging into the flesh of your ass was enough to add to the wetness in your core—helping Minho to slide in and out of you with much more ease.  
Soon your moans started echoing against the horrible acoustics of the toilets, mixing in with the sound of skin slapping against skin, and the big zippers on either of Minho’s pant leg dragging against the floor. 
You gripped onto the counter, hard, relaxing against Minho’s hold as he slammed your bodies together. 
“More, Min, please,” you whimpered, as the pleasure started building inside your stomach. 
You knew he was needy from his text, and then you knew it again when you watched him play his drums with so much energy. And now, with his thrusts fast and unrelenting–you were sure nothing could make him stop until he was satisfied. And you were happy to be the person to satisfy him. 
He held onto your hip bones tightly, using his grip to move you against his body, and so he told you to start rubbing your clit for him. 
You brought a hand between your legs, trying your best to concentrate as Minho moved your body around quite roughly. 
Then a loud creak made you yelp, the door opening slowly.
You jumped into Minho’s arms–him doing his best to shield you from the unwanted guest. Until the guest said, “sorry, sorry! It’s me!” 
You both let out a sigh of relief as Seungmin walked up to the pair of you. 
He planted a kiss on Minho’s lips before giving you a kiss as well, smiling softly. 
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologised, “I honestly didn’t think you’d be at it already.” 
“Ran out of patience,” Minho grumbled. Noticing you were still tense around him, he rubbed your stomach softly, waiting until your body relaxed into him again. 
“I wonder why,” Seungmin hummed, as if in deep thought. 
“Fuck you,” Minho narrowed his eyes at him. 
“Would you, hyung?” Seungmin grinned, wrapping his finger around Minho’s necklace before he tugged on it. 
Minho stumbled into him, holding onto you with one hand as the other went to Seungmin’s shoulder to keep his balance. 
“I’m in the middle of something,” Minho said, voice low. You could still hear him loudly, his voice jumping against the walls harshly. 
“Yeah, I can see,” Seungmin laughed, bringing a hand to your hair as he rubbed his fingers against your scalp. “Thought you were my groupie.” 
You chuckled at his pout, rolling your eyes at him. “Drummers do it better.” 
Minho laughed at that, pushing into your softly. You almost forgot the two of you were still connected, but you supposed his renewed movement was meant to be some sort of reward for your remark. Truthfully, Minho was just waiting for you to feel comfortable again–and being a little shit to Seungmin was your ultimate comfort zone. 
“And here I thought being the lead singer of a failing rock band would get me all the groupies I could ever want,” Seungmin sighed longingly. 
“Heard you’re not failing anymore,” you patted his shoulder, “why aren’t you jerking off a producer somewhere?” 
“Oh god,” Seungmin said, eyes wide, “they were all so hot.” 
At that, Minho slammed into you roughly. Seungmin chuckled at your surprised groan before he jumped onto the counter. He grabbed your arms, manoeuvring you to stand right in front of him and lean your hands on his thighs. 
He sunk his fingers into your hair again, scratching your scalp lightly. It was a big contrast to Minho’s rough thrusts, and you couldn’t understand which sensation your body was focused on. You let it overwhelm you either way. 
“There were three of them,” he explained in a soft voice as Minho kept fucking into you, “they said they’d love to speak to our manager so I panicked and gave them Jeongin’s number. I didn’t want them to think we were massive rookies that don’t even have a manager.” 
“But… you don’t,” you said, breathlessly. 
“Sure, but I didn’t want Mr. Chan to think that. I also think he was flirting with me,” Seungmin rambled on. He wasn’t usually one to talk so much, the only exception being the few hours after they came off stage. The adrenaline always made him chatty, which neither of you minded usually. 
But Minho was a jealous person. 
“Oh, flirting with you, was he?” He said through clenched teeth. 
“I think so,” Seungmin simply nodded, “and one of the other ones kept asking about you. Think he has a thing for drummers, too.” 
He meant that last part at you, and you chuckled softly. 
“So I think it can be a group effort,” he suggested, bringing his thumb to your cheek in a soft caress, “I’ll take that Chan guy, Minho can take the chatty one, and you can have the third one. His muscles looked amazing.” 
“Wait, what?” You asked, hoping Minho didn’t notice you clenching. You didn’t know what these guys looked like, nor did you really care to partake in what Seungmin was talking about–but the way he said it so casually caused something to light up in your stomach. 
“You know,” Seungmin gestured to the air, “fucking producers to get famous? It’s in all the rockstar handbooks.”
You laughed, but Minho stayed silent. In fact, he stopped moving entirely. He tapped your back slightly, an unconscious act he always did before he pulled out. So you knew to expect it, but it still surprised you when it happened. 
You quickly turned around to face him, watching as he pulled the condom off and got dressed. Confused about what was going on, you did the same. You leaned against Seungmin’s knees, finding comfort in the way he instantly opened his legs and let you stand between them as the pair of you looked at Minho, silently. 
“Hyung?” 
Minho clenched his jaw, blinking rapidly as he looked anywhere but at the pair of you. You waited silently, as you knew to do with Minho. Sometimes he just needed a moment or two. 
“You’re mine,” he mumbled, before looking back up at the pair of you, “both of you are mine.” 
“Yes, hyung, of co–” 
“--it turned her on, you know,” he said, sending an angry look your way. You brought your hands around your stomach, embarrassed that he did in fact notice. 
“Yeah, well, just because Y/N’s a slut doesn’t mean I meant it like that,” Seungmin explained. 
“Hey!” You tried to defend yourself, slapping Seungmin’s knee in protest. It didn’t help that you were still soaking wet–and him calling you names so casually wasn’t going to help you calm down. 
“Mine,” Minho said again, far more determined this time. “Neither one of you is touching anyone else. I’m not letting anyone near you two.” 
He closed the gap between you, trapping you in between his arms and Seungmin as he placed his hands flat on the younger’s thighs. You noticed his slid his fingers underneath the ripped out holes in Seungmin’s jeans, slowly raking his nails against the smooth skin of his thighs. You could hear Seungmin breathing louder. 
“It’ll be for a good cause though,” Seungmin said, unable to stop teasing. 
“I don’t give a shit about that,” Minho grumbled, “you’re mine.” 
Seungmin tapped your waist lightly, slowly, as if he didn’t want Minho to see–which made you understand he definitely didn’t. He was giving you a hint, urging you to join him in provoking Minho even more. 
“Don’t you wanna be famous, Min? I think Seung will have to fuck some producers to make that happen.” 
“Mine,” Minho repeated, louder, “Kim Seungmin isn’t fucking anyone. And neither are you.” 
“But, hyung,” Seungmin started, snaking his arms around your waist and reaching out for the loops on Minho’s jeans. He pulled him even closer to you–his still hard dick rubbing against your body lightly. “Do you wanna keep playing gigs at shitty venues?” 
“Yeah,” Minho shrugged. 
“And having to work two jobs for a month just to get one hour of studio time?” He added. 
“Who cares,” Minho rolled his eyes, before looking right at you. He was daring you to say something else, you knew it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it when his brown eyes were staring right at you like that. “There isn’t anything in this world that would make me share you two.” 
“And if I wanted it for my birthday?” Seungmin asked with a toothy grin. 
“Kim Seungmin,” Minho grumbled, grabbing onto the collar of Seungmin’s white blazer, “you’re such a fucking brat.” 
“And you’re a jealous idiot,” he smirked back. 
At that Minho grabbed the back of Seungmin’s neck, surging forward above your shoulder as he kissed him. The pair of them moaned into each other’s mouths, and you angled yourself as best you could to enjoy the view of them. 
Minho always got so intense when he was even a little bit jealous, and considering how red his ears currently were it was safe to assume he was extremely jealous right now. Even though the scenario you were talking about was hypothetical at best, it didn’t stop Minho from letting his possessiveness take over him. 
As the pair kept kissing, Seungmin brought a hand between your legs, tracing your wetness with his fingers. You quickly reacted, escalating things further as you grabbed Minho’s oversized white shirt from the collar, pulling it down to suck on the space right below his collarbone. It was his favourite spot, almost always already marked–but this time it wasn’t. You and Seungmin were surely lacking, but you’d quickly correct that. 
With your mouth occupied with marking Minho’s beautiful skin, you opened the button on his jeans, shoving your hand into his boxers to start pumping his dick. 
Minho pulled away from Seungmin’s lips at that, eyes fluttering shut as he threw his head back, enjoying your actions deeply–if the loud moans he let slip past his lips were anything to go by. 
Seungmin, ever impatient, was eager for more kisses, and so he grabbed your chin and turned your face towards him. He instantly sucked on your bottom lip, groaning into your mouth. 
As you kissed him, eager to taste him, he brought his hand into your underwear, slipping two fingers inside you with ease. 
“Fuck,” he pulled away, watching as he shut his eyes tightly. 
You then noticed Minho’s hand was down Seungmin’s boxers, too. 
“Bubs, you’re so wet,” he moaned.
“You’d hope so if my dick was inside her like five minutes ago,” Minho grumbled. You squeezed his length lightly, prompting another loud moan to leave him, proving an effective way to shut him up. 
“Can I be inside you?” Seungmin asked lowly, his breath shuddering as Minho started moving his hand quicker. 
“Please,” you nodded eagerly. 
You watched as Minho quickly dragged Seungmin off the counter. You watched as he tugged off Seungmin’s ripped jeans, getting another condom out of his pocket and rolling it on Seungmin’s length. 
You waited as he secured it in place before Seungmin pushed down your pants. Just like Minho, he grabbed your ass firmly before slowly sliding into your core. 
This time, you had Minho in front of you, and you could easily fall into his chest as Seungmin started thrusting into you. Minho held onto your back as Seungmin held your hips–and the sound of all three of you moaning was so incredibly loud in the old out of order toilets. 
You hoped and prayed the rest of the crew were still loading Hyunjin’s van with the equipment and wouldn’t hear everything that was going on. 
As much as you didn’t want to get caught (again, technically) you also really really couldn’t care enough to stop, nor be quiet about it. 
Seungmin’s cock felt so good inside you, hitting the soft spot deep inside your body repeatedly as Minho kissed along your neck. He was rubbing himself against your stomach, moaning into your skin. 
Minho peppered kisses along your jaw until he reached your cheek, placing soft and tender kisses on your skin. 
“Mine, baby,” he reminded you softly. You nodded eagerly, moaning pathetically as your legs started to shake. 
Seungmin was panting against your shoulder, his moans too broken to even make a sound at this point. 
“Minho,” you moaned, willing your eyes to focus on his intense glare and not roll to the back of your head. He nodded at you, choking back a moan as you wrapped your hand around his length, rubbing your thumb against the tip lightly. 
“Want both of you to cum inside me,” you groaned. 
At that, Seungmin started to move faster–more desperate as he slid a hand underneath your shirt and grabbed your tits. 
“Can’t get our groupie pregnant,” Minho smirked at you, “not good for the reputation.” 
You let your head fall on Seungmin’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as he tugged on your nipples harshly. The pain mixed with the pleasure in the best way imaginable, and all you could do in response was pump Minho’s cock faster. 
“Then cum on my tits, please, Min,” you begged, pushing your shirt up. You looked down at your chest, the sight of Seungmin’s big hands enveloping your chest caused you to clench around him tightly. “‘M close,” 
“Where’d your bra go?” Minho tsked at you, “threw it on stage?” 
You chuckled lightly, arching your back further into Seungmin’s chest.
“Seung, seung, don’t stop,” you started chanting, moans pitching higher and higher as Seungmin reached around to rub your clit in quick circles. 
You grabbed onto Minho’s arms, grounding yourself as he pulled you into a messy kiss. You could barely concentrate on it, spit running down the corner of your mouth as you felt your high approaching you in seconds. 
Before you could warn them you pulled away from Minho, your whole body shaking around Seungmin as he wrapped an arm around your stomach, holding you up as your knees threatened to give way. Minho sucked a spot on your neck as Seungmin fucked you through your orgasm–the pair of them surrounding you completely. 
Soon after, as your walls were still fluttering in the aftershock, Seungmin came too–moaning your name loudly. You were both spent, but it didn’t stop you from pumping Minho together, Seungmin grabbing the base while you rubbed his tip.
“I’m close,” he warned, groaning as the pair of you started moving faster.
“Ask him again,” Seungmin whispered in your ear.
“Min, cum on me,” you said quickly. 
“Go on, hyung,” Seungmin encouraged, “mark your territory.” 
“Then I.. should, fuck, should cum on you, too,” Minho panted.
Seungmin smirked at you, that wicked smirk of his, before he pushed you onto your knees. He went down with you, joining you on the floor as he simply–with the most innocent puppy eyes he could master–stuck his tongue out. You quickly followed his lead, sticking your tongue out, too. 
In a matter of seconds you felt warmth dropping onto your cheeks, and you watched in awe as Minho aimed the rest of his cum onto Seungmin’s tongue. 
You pouted up at him, complaining loudly that he completely missed your tongue. 
“Come here then,” Seungmin growled, pulling you into a kiss. It was salty and messy and bitter and you whimpered into the kiss. 
You pulled away, desperate for some oxygen, and Seungmin took the opportunity to clean your cheeks from Minho’s cum–scooping it off your skin before he shoved his fingers in your mouth. 
He chuckled at you, watched as you sucked his fingers clean before letting out hushed praises. 
You felt Minho rub your head lightly, scratching at your hair as you looked up at him. “Let’s clean up, bunny.” 
Seungmin helped you stand up as the three of you cleaned each other up, soft kisses exchanged between you. Once you were dressed again, and Seungmin spent a good few minutes trying to make your hair look normal again, Minho’s phone rang. 
“It’s Felix, they said they took all the equipment back and they’re at a bar now. Wanna go join them?” 
“Would it be lame if I said I wanna go sleep now?” Seungmin grumbled, making a point of plopping his chin on your shoulder. 
Minho rolled his eyes, waiting for your answer as well. “I’m not a rockstar, so I definitely want to go to sleep now.” 
“Let’s go home then,” Minho decided, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he guided the pair of you out of the old, crumbling toilets. 
Seungmin grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together as the three of you walked in silence towards the parking lot. 
That was until Minho decided to announce, “that was actually the worst place we’ve done it in. Hands down.” 
“Hyung, nothing screams rockstar more than a quickie in a gross toilet with your number one groupie,” Seungmin reasoned. 
“Number one?” You gasped, “you have another groupie?” 
“Yes,” Seungmin smirked, “but he’s actually also the drummer in my band so I don’t know if it counts.” 
“It doesn’t,” Minho huffed, “because the lead singer of my band is gonna disappear mysteriously tonight.” 
The two of you laughed, watching fondly as Minho did his best to hold back his smile. 
That night, the three of you climbed into bed–letting Minho take the middle so as to let his possessive streak from before calm down slightly. You were sure he wasn’t actually too insecure about it, but if being sandwiched between the two of you was what he needed you’d allow him that. Even if you did prefer the middle.
As the three of you snuggled closer to each other, Seungmin went into more concrete details about the producers he met. How they offered to record one of the songs they performed that night, how they always wanted to work with a rock band before–even though they were primarily into rap genres. 
“Babe, did you tell the others about this?” Minho gasped, blinking rapidly. 
“No, I went straight to you guys,” Seungmin shrugged. 
“Well, this is huge for the band, Seungminnie. We have to tell them in the morning.” Seungmin nodded. 
You moved closer into Minho’s chest, smiling proudly at your boyfriends. 
“I can come to the studio, right? I have to see it happening,” you smiled. 
“Obviously,” Seungmin grinned, “I mean, we still need to take one producer each, you know.” 
You slapped Seungmin from across Minho’s torso, tsking at his apparently uncontrollable need to tease his boyfriend. 
“Do you wanna go again, Kim Seungmin?” Minho grumbled at him, jaw clenching. 
“Oh, baby,” Seungmin swooned dramatically, “thought you’d never ask.” 
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not-my-final-account · 3 months
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I’VE FALLEN DOWN THE RABIT HOLE OF DANNY PHANTOM AND NOW I CAN’T ESCAPE
Once the Justice League was losing. It was the end of the world. No seriously, the world was an hour away from being blown to bits.
-
Constantine sighed and rubbed his face, he had just ran out of cigarettes and it was making him more jumpy than was truely necessary in any given situation. Him and most of the bigger heros in the Justice League sat in a cave and were forced to wait out the apocalypse, well, the hour left of it anyways.
Constantine sighed and looked up to what you could see of the sky from inside their cave, he was almost… afraid. Afraid of what was going to happen, afraid that it had come to this, afraid that the rumours were true or even worse than they seemed, Pariah Dark was not known for caring nor his mercy.
Honestly Constantine was going to consider it lucky if he died and got to rest in peace, even more lucky if the world actually got saved! This was a last ditch effort.
Constantine grabbed a piece of chalk from his pocket, it was worn from years of carrying it around. He settled it on the flattest piece of stone he could find and started drawing the circle he had memorised. “John what are you doing?” Wonder Woman asked, he ignored her and took a deep breathe
“Oh dark king of the ghosts.” he prayed, there were truely only a few necessary words but Constantine felt like he needed to add a message, so he kept speaking as he drew the intricate patterns of the circle “My world may be of no importance to you, but I am willing to make a deal to save it. Please accept my summon, please be merciful, please save earth, please K I N G O F T H E G H O S T S.” Constantine begged, Wonder Woman and most of the others sat up or got more defensive, it truely said something that Batman didn’t bother.
-
Danny Phantom sat playing DOOM with Sam and Tucker, cheering when we got to a higher level. Suddenly something tugged at his core and a voice whispered through his ears
…oh dark king of the ghosts. My world may be of no importance to you, but I am willing to make a deal to save it. Please accept my summon, please be merciful, please save earth, please…
“-anny? Danny?” Sam asked “Hello?” she said in a sing song voice
“Still with us Danny?” Tucker asked, Danny swallowed,
“I- I’ve got to go.” he said
-
Constantine sat on his knees in front of the circle and… nothing happened, Superman glanced at him and started to sit back down when suddenly the stone inside the circle fell away into a green spiral.
Superman gasped and jumped back up
“Don’t attack him, bow.” Constantine instructed, reluctantly Superman and everyone else did, except for Batman of course, what’d you expect? Him to change? Just because the world was ending?
A pale hand reached up from the circle and grabbed the edge; whoever was in the circle pulled themself up slowly and as they came closer to the mortal realm Superman got a sense of dread, of death, of… something else, of authority, and everyone in the room seemed to find themselves bowing lower. Superman couldn’t help but think, had Constantine double-doomed the world?
-
Constantine looked up as the figure hovered above the circle, he was the first to move from his bow. This… wasn’t what Constantine expected Pariah Dark to look like, he was still imposing but didn’t fit the ghost kings reputation.
He had a cape as dark as the shadows with glowing constellations and stories sown into the fabric. He had a crown that burned with green fire and floated above his head, his eyes glowed the same green as the crown and his hand had a single ring. He wore royal looking clothes, white boots and gloves with a black shirt and pants.
This was the ghost king “Pariah Dark, King of Ghosts. I am Constantine-”
“Pariah Dark? I dethroned him years ago! I’m Danny Phantom.” the ghost king introduced.
“I meant no disrespect your highness.” Constantine quickly said
“I don’t- never mind. You asked for me to save earth?” King Phantom asked, Constantine gulped
“Y-yes, we can’t win, please, I- I’ll do anything.” he begged,
“A favour.” King Phantom said
“What?” Constantine asked
“A favour, I’ll save your world for a favour from you and your friends.” King Phantom said.
A favour to a ghost king who was probably very evil, that is so stupid and such a horrible idea, who in their right mind would-
“Deal.” Constantine agreed.
There was a flash of bright light and King Phantom disappeared, after a few seconds of him being gone the sounds of a battle echoed through the cave.
“Constantine what did you just rope us into?” Batman asked. Constantine really, really needed a cigarette.
-
Years ago, the world was ending. In a last ditch effort Constantine summoned… something. Superman didn’t know much about the ghost king that had appeared, just that he was powerful, and that the better half of the Justice League owed him a favour. It had been on everyone’s minds for a few months after that deal, waiting for the day they would be called for something horrific and hoping it wouldn’t ruin them or their morals. But truthfully, after a few years everyone sorta forgot about it; it was the type of thing no one remembered unless the subject at hand related to it, and even then you were uneasy for a day and forgot all over again.
So when a scroll appeared in a flash of green light during a meeting one day, Superman would like to say that the freaking out was justified.
Batman (who seemed to adopt everyone he met in one way or another) shushed the group of panicking superhero’s and picked up the scroll “I am calling in your favour, when you finish reading this you will all be teleported to my aid. Signed, Phantom.” Batman read. Oh no.
In another flash of green light they appeared in a park with a few heros who hadn’t even been in the room. Everyone immediately put up their defences and raised various weapons, then they realised the park was empty. Superman looked around using X-ray vision, he had no clue what was going on in the seemingly peaceful that could make a ghost king ask for help, then he looked through a hill and saw a giant green dog running with two kids gripping it’s lead.
As the dog jumped on top of then off the hill and ran in front of them Superman could make out the words in their screams
“Sit boy, sit!” the Batman looking one called
“I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIE! NO OFFENCE DANNNYYYY!!!” the one with devices falling out of his bag and pockets yelled.
Everyone lowered their weapons and Flash relaxed and scoffed
“This is what that ghost guy called us in for? This is going to be a breeze!” Flash said happily
“Don’t judge a book by its cover Flash.” Constantine warned. Superman was about to agree with flash when the ghost king suddenly appeared in the air in front of us, dripping in something green which looked alarmingly like blood- oh god the ghost king was dying!? Re-dying?!
“Forget I said anything,” Flash raised his hands in the air and got ignored as we rushed over to the ghost king who had fallen out of the air and onto the ground.
Before anyone could do anything though another person appeared out of thin air and then floated down
“Join me Daniel! Together we could rule the world!” he asked, okay that was an evil guy if Superman had ever seen one, he even had the looks to go with it, you could mistake him as Dracula … was that Dracula?
Suddenly another guy who looked like the ghost king body slammed Dracula from the air
“I WILL RULE THE WORLD AND ME ALONE!” as he stood up Superman noticed he looked just like the ghost king only older and more evil looking. As if the mention of look-a-likes summoned her, a small girl who also looked just like the ghost king only younger and female body slammed evil twin number 1.
“Not on my watch you fruitloop!” she yelled. Suddenly a woman in a track suit with ridiculous looking googles and carrying an oversized gun jumped down
“Get away you evil ghosts!” she yelled and fired some energy weapon at the small group, they all scattered and the four of them fought when some girl on a hover board swooped in and pointed her hand at the ghost king
“Danny Phantom! You and all of ghost kind will pay!!” she yelled, something on her wrist started glowing when
“GET AWAY FROM DANNY!” a school girl yelled. Her orange hair swung around as she discus threw her books and bag right into the girls face. They also ran off into the distance to fight.
“What?” Flash asked,
“When he said.” Green Lantern agreed.
“The Dracula looking one is Vlad, he’s a bad guy, so is my evil self from an alternate timeline, we call him Dan, Dani is the small girl who looks like me, that’s because she’s my clone, she’s on the good side but she might steal your stuff just because she can so be careful,” he took a wheezy breath “My sister Jazz is the one who hurled her books into the air to protect me, she’s good. The girl in the red suit is Red Huntress, she’s good she just doesn’t understand -same with my parents, the couple in the jumpsuits, their ghost hunters.” the ghost king explained
“Wait, your parents are ghost hunters?” Flash asked
“Yeah?” the ghost king asked- oh I see.
“But you’re a ghost?” Flash said
“I’m technically a halfa actually, but trust me I know. It’s all ‘we’re going to tear apart the ghost boy molecule by molecule’ and never ‘is the ghost boy good or bad’.” the ghost king groaned, I reached out to help “I’ll be fine go fight or help!” he said
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steddielations · 11 months
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Staying the night, cuddling well into the morning is entirely new to Eddie when he starts dating Steve.
He hasn’t been with many guys. Favors exchanged behind a club building were quick and done. Meaningless and he didn’t mind, got used to it because that’s just how it is for people like Eddie.
No chance of going steady with someone, holding hands through a field of roses, that romantic shit wasn’t in the cards for him so he convinced himself he didn’t want it anyway. The couple of guys he’s managed to get a room with were gone by the time he woke up. Even when he thought there was something more, only to wake up alone with a cold pillow.
So with Steve, he loves being the big spoon, wrapping all four limbs around him, clinging to him so he can’t go anywhere. Not that Steve would, he never pulls away, never leaves, he loves being held as much as Eddie loves holding him. Eddie knows he won’t wake up alone, he gets the best sleep of his life with Steve in his arms. Just feeling Steve there with him, still.
Then once, Eddie’s half asleep when Steve comes over after working a late shift. Eddie’s too sleepy to turn around, mumbling “hey sweehar” and Steve shushes him, climbing in, sliding an arm over his waist and gently tugging Eddie against him.
Eddie sighs blissfully when Steve noses through his hair to kiss the back of his neck. He’s too tired to process all the little bursts of warmth firing off at the feeling of being held. He just melts into it, falling asleep easier than ever.
Then when he wakes up in the morning, still wrapped in Steve’s arms, he’s rocked with emotions welling in his chest. Steve’s arm is still tucked over Eddie’s stomach, leg slotted between Eddie’s, nose pressed against Eddie’s shoulder, snoozing softly.
Intimacy is everywhere, snug against his body, filling his stomach with fuzzy warmth. There in Steve’s arms, held through the night, Eddie feels so kept.
No one’s ever held onto Eddie before.
Guys don’t do that to Eddie. He’s not the one they hold onto, the one they keep. He’s the one they hide, the one they leave alone in an alley or a cold bed. The one they can’t get away from fast enough and fucking forget. Eddie was fine with that because he never expected anything more.
Eddie wasn’t prepared to be loved by Steve Harrington.
It’s ridiculous. A fairytale. Eddie Munson who crawled through seedy bars and back alleys somehow conned his way into the most loving arms imaginable. It’s so fucking ridiculous.
He starts laughing. Chuckling hysterically into his pillow. The whole bed starts to shake and so does Eddie. His laughs turn wet, a mix of cackling and sobbing bubbles from his throat.
Steve stirs awake, looking over Eddie’s shoulder, “Eddie … Baby, what’s wrong?” He asks softly, gathering Eddie’s hair from the tears on his cheeks and tucking it behind his ear.
Another wave of laughs and sobs. Eddie battled monsters with Metallica and somehow dating Steve is the most insane thing to happen to him.
Finally, Eddie says with a happily overwhelmed exhale, “I love you and you love me.”
Steve blinks, “What’s so wrong with that?”
“Nothing just,” Eddie looks up at him, propped on his elbow still perfect somehow with bed hair, looking down at Eddie like he’s the precious thing here. So, so ridiculous. “Shit like this doesn’t happen to me. You weren’t supposed to happen to me.”
Steve’s brows knit curiously, and Eddie really can’t explain it more than that. He’s just having a damn moment. He almost died not too long ago, now he’s got all this life and love coming out of nowhere at him, it fucks him up sometimes.
Steve gets it, reassuring after a moment, “Well it’s happening, Munson. You got me now and I’ve got you.”
Eddie laughs, still a little wet and pulls Steve’s arm over him, snuggling back against his chest. Steve tightens his hold and Eddie settles into the way it feels to be something worth holding in Steve’s arms.
“Yeah just…” Eddie says, voice small, “Just keep me, Steve. Okay?”
Steve presses kisses to his shoulder and up his neck, soft but with so much feeling behind them, “You’ll have to pry me off with a crowbar.”
Eddie snorts and yeah. He really likes being Steve’s little spoon.
For @steddie-week day 2: fluff and/or angst
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loafgeto · 7 months
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ᝬ 𝗡𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗬 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬𝗦𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 ⤵︎
geto suguru x fem!reader
synopsis: you are the babysitter to twin girls. their adoptive dad, suguru, is normally dealing with work related issues and comes back one night with a treat.
cw: fem! reader, mdni 18+, explicit language, dilf geto suguru, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), creampie, dirty talking, fingering, squirting, some praising and usage of pet names (geto says princess, baby, and sweetheart, mister and sir are used for geto), you and geto basically fucking and trying to keep quiet while the girls sleep ;P
wc: 3.9k
a/n: hello guys, this is my first oneshot on here🙁 and if you know me, i’ve been obsessing over geto suguru and one of my friends suggested i write about him!! this oneshot isn’t proofread so it’s published however i wrote it like. i’ll go back soon to check for grammar or typo issues. anyways, i hope you guys enjoy because i know i will😋💯‼️
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“Come on girls, it’s time for you two to sleep,” you call from the kitchen to the two girls that were sitting by the TV in the living room. After cleaning the table and washing dishes, you went to the girls in order to prepare them for bed.
Grabbing the remote to the TV, one of the girls suddenly whine. “But I don’t wanna sleep. I wanna watch TV still,” Nanako huffs, crossing her arms over her chest in persistence.
“Me too.. I like this show. Please miss Y/n?” the other twin, Mimiko frowns, pressing her stuffed animal close to her.
“I’m sorry girls.. you know your dad gave me your schedules and he firmly said for you two to be in bed by 8:30,” you remind the girls as the remote falls under your grasp and you hit the power button to turn the TV off. “Now if your dad found out I broke one of the rules, he might not let me be your babysitter anymore.”
Their eyes widen in shock and they end up complying to your words. It wasn’t necessarily true. Though, their dad would be disappointed, he wouldn’t fire you because of it. And that’s because you’re actually a great babysitter. The previous ones weren’t as bad, but the girls didn’t necessarily like them until you were hired.
Nanako and Mimiko were quick to like you as their babysitter, in which satisfied their dad and you began babysitting them constantly several weekdays and weekends. It had been three months since, and it’s like you were apart of the family.
Not only that, you were given a good pay every week just to watch and take care of them. He was a single dad, worked 5 days a week to provide for him and the girls, and well, extremely handsome. You were astonished to discover that he didn’t even have a partner. He always dismissed it, declaring he was too focused on his work to seek for a relationship.
Unfortunate. You were honestly attracted to him, but you didn’t get this job solely because of that. You genuinely needed money to support yourself, and since you had prior skills in taking care of children, you figured it’d be easier to earn that way.
You just happen to become interested in the dude. It was to the point you even started developing some romantic feelings for him. You started imagining yourself with him, with the girls, as a family. Even imagining him pinning you down on his bed and fucking you relentlessly. You felt guilty thinking about it all, but no one had to know.
For now, you hide your true feelings about him but still show your respect and care for him. And you weren’t certain but, you even considered that he might have something towards you too.
You tuck the two girls in their individual twin beds, making sure they were comfortable before reading them a bed time story. And when they finally fell into a slumber, you quietly slip out of their room, shut off the lights and close their door.
Venturing back into the kitchen, you decide to grab a small serving of the cookies you three baked for dessert earlier and settle in the living room before their dad got home.
You play on your phone for the remainder of the hour. Scrolling through social media and messaging friends back while munching on the cookies. You glance at the clock several times, reading the numbers before deciding whether to prepare a meal for their father or not. Usually, out of courtesy, you would cook him a simple dinner that he always appreciated by eating and complimenting how well you cooked it.
hello, mister geto. i was wondering if you wanted me to cook dinner for you so that when you get back, it would be ready? you sent him the message, drumming your fingers on your thigh as you waited for a response.
No later than 2 minutes, he replies. no need to worry. i’m getting takeout. thanks though.
Well, you guessed you were able to relax until then, which you found no problem in.
You took this moment to walk around the two story house and explore. Their dad gave you permission to do so, even allowed you to enter all of the rooms besides his unless necessary. You were allowed to touch items but handle them with care or else you’d pay for the damage. You often found yourself in the room where he stores series of novels and single books, and read there while the girls sleep.
This time, you decided to grab one of the books from the Percy Jackson collection and read in the living room before their dad came home. You didn’t know how many times you’ve read the series, but you enjoyed it, and could read it over and over again with no complaints.
By the time it was 9:30, you could hear the front door to the house click, indicating someone was using a key to open the house. You get up from the couch, deciding to greet their dad by the door. The knob twists and as you approach the large foyer, the door opens and their dad steps into the house.
Geto Suguru is definitely one in a billion. His eyes directly fall onto your figure when the doors open, and he found himself unable to break his gaze until he opens his mouth.
“Ah. Y/n,” Suguru was quite surprised with your greeting by the door, but he replaces his expression with a warm smile as he shuts the door behind him. “How was today? Were the girls good?”
“Today went well, as usual, Mister Geto. The girls were good. Did their homework, had dinner, and are sleeping right now,” you reply as he walks past you to get into the kitchen. He gives you a glance and nods, and you follow him.
“That’s good, I appreciate it,” Suguru implies as he enters the kitchen, placing the bag of takeout on his kitchen island table. He gives you another look before adding, “want some?”
“Oh- no, thank you. Please, it’s your dinner. You should enjoy it,” you decline with a polite grin as you went to the other side of the island table. Conversations were occasionally like this between the two of you, it may seem awkward, but it didn’t feel like it. “How was work today for you, Mister Geto?”
“Was alright. Just got dragged into some issues. Have to deal with it tomorrow,” Suguru sighs with an irritated groan. He starts untying the knot from the takeout bag and took out the boxes.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Hopefully things will be alright for you,” you reply with a slight frown. “You know I’m here to listen to your problems.”
“No worries, but I appreciate you,” Suguru chuckles softly. “By the way, you sure you don’t want any? I bought too much for one person.”
“I’d feel bad..”
“You should feel bad for not eating, especially when I offered,” Suguru slides one of the boxes over to you. “Come on. It’d be our first dinner together.”
You didn’t necessarily know how to respond and decide to just comply to his offer. You take the takeout box and a pair of chopsticks. “Well.. thank you, Mister Geto.”
Suguru only nods as a reply and you both start to eat in silence. You notice that he frequently sends you glances. Mind you, you’re wearing a dress. The length was mid-thigh and the attire was mainly for the girls since they wanted to play dress up. His glances caused you to ponder if he was becoming uncomfortable and you decide to bring up the matter but Suguru speaks first.
“The dress looks beautiful on you,” Suguru blurts out the compliment as your eyes meet his. You were appalled, to say the least. This unexpected compliment caused your heart to skip rapid beats.
“O-Oh.. thank you, sir.. The girls wanted to play dress up, so I came in a dress in order to do that,” you casually explain, trying not to express your fluster due to his words.
Suguru raises a brow, but smiles. “Yeah? I’m glad you and the girls have a close bond. They don’t have a mother figure but I believe you’re supporting that role for them. I’m genuinely grateful for you since I can’t always be there for them. And you’re always welcome here, even if you aren’t scheduled to babysit them.”
“I really appreciate that. Thank you so much,” you give him a smile. Honestly, how more can this man go to attract you?
“You thirsty?” Suguru brings up next as he starts walking towards one of the cabinets. He takes out two wine glasses, glancing at you for an answer. “I don’t have wine anymore, you fine with some juice or soda and we pretend like it’s wine or whatever?”
You laugh softly. “I’m fine with that.”
Suguru pours juice in the two glasses and hands you one of them. “Next time, I’ll have some wine prepared. Just don’t want the girls getting their hands on something they shouldn’t be touching.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll hide them extra careful. Besides, the girls are smart enough not to snoop in areas they aren’t supposed to,” you imply and Suguru chuckles, nodding in agreement.
“You’re right. Next time then.”
“Mhm. Next time.”
You and Suguru finish eating shortly afterwards. He remained at the island table, cleaning up the takeout boxes and messaging his employers on his phone. You went to the sink and began washing your glass cup, and afterwards, you’d finally prepare to go back home.
Suguru stood behind, unbeknownst to you. About to turn around in order to fetch his cup to wash, you felt the sensation of his body hover over yours. This feeling caused you to startle, but you remained poised and watch as he placed his empty cup in the sink.
“Don’t worry, I got it from here,” Suguru whispers in your ear. It sent shivers down your spine and you turn your head to meet his gaze. He was so close to you. His lips were reachable for you and your heart starts pounding.
“I-It’s okay.. I should be the one to..” you start to say as your eyes trail from his lips and up to his eyes. “..wash them..”
You and Suguru stood there, locking eyes for who knows how long. It was cliche, but at that moment, you found yourself getting lost in his dark eyes. You felt your face burning and you were certain Suguru could see how flustered you’ve become. But you didn’t budge, and neither did he.
“Mister Geto..?”
“Fuck..” Suguru murmurs, finally breaking eye contact but remained in the same position. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I just—“
He looks back up at you and the expression in eyes told everything.
In an instant, your lips found your way to his. Suguru immediately kisses you back, wrapping an arm around your waist while yours went around his neck. He gently pushes you against the kitchen island table, and he deepens the kiss with more passionate energy.
You pull Suguru closer, a hand going to grasp his hair as his free hand slithers under your thigh and he grips it. Suguru hoists your thighs up and moves his hand further under your dress.
“God.. you’re so beautiful. Wanna fuck you so bad, princess,” Suguru mumbles as he pulls away slightly from the kiss.
“W-Want you to fuck me.. Mister Geto..” you whisper through your pants as a smirk forms on his lips. He gives you another kiss, pressing his tongue against yours. You moan against mouth and he pulls away, sliding his hand up to cup your ass.
“Yeah?” He replies and you nod, feeling the tip of his middle finger trace the soaked area of your underwear. “Already so fucking wet, just f’me.”
“Y-Yes, sir.”
Suguru then began swirling his finger around your clothed clit, causing you to release a moan. Gosh. The feeling of his fingers just gently touching you already made you a complete mess.
“You gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” Suguru reminds you as he pushes your underwear to the side.
“Mhm.. want you to fuck me with your fingers, sir..” you mumble, still holding him by the neck.
Suguru wastes no time and pushes two of his longer fingers into your dripping pussy. You throw your head back slightly, gasping at the feeling before Suguru latches his mouth on your neck. He begins to pump his fingers in and out of you at a sensual pace, circling his thumb around your clit.
Your hand grabs the edge of the island table for support and the other covers your mouth, refraining your loud moans to echo throughout the house. But it just felt too good, that you could barely hold back.
“You hear that, princess? You hear how wet you are for me?” Suguru inquires, pulling back and dropping to his knees. His fingers pump a few more time before he lifts the dress up even more. “Such a pretty pussy.”
“M-Mister Geto..” you moan as you felt his mouth latch onto your pussy. His tongue starts to suck and lick your clit, as he proceeds to slide and curl his fingers in and out of you in a faster pace. “So good..”
Suguru thrusts his fingers deeper, hitting your spots. He uses his other hand to lift your leg over his shoulder for a better angle before pushing his fingers out. He licks your arousal dripping from your cunt and down your thighs before pressing his tongue into your pussy.
“S-Sir!” you throw your head back as you felt his tongue lick in and all around pussy. He gives a gentle blow to your clit before giving it several kitten licks.
Suguru returns two of his fingers inside of you, curling and pumping them at a quicker speed. Your moans escape from the tip of your tongue just like that. It was music to Suguru’s ears and he wanted to hear your sweet and erotic noises more.
The way your walls clench around his long fingers made him wonder how it’d feel like with his dick. Oh, how he wanted to test it out right now.
“G-Gonna cum.. Mister Geto..”
“Cum for me, princess. Cum over my face and fingers.”
A hand goes to grip his hair as he fucks your pussy with his mouth and fingers. You’re close, feeling his fingers curl in you to rub against your sensitive spots. Suguru quickens his pace so you’d cum faster when hearing your wet pussy squelch and moans get louder, messier.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.. cumming—“ you moan out, head falling back and your grip on the kitchen island table tightens as your cum squirts over his fingers and mouth.
Suguru continues to pump his fingers several times as you came, licking all of the juices that dripped from his mouth. He cleans your cum with his tongue, making sure to get every droplet that dropped on your skin.
He gets up, gently pushing his fingers in your mouth in order for you to get a taste of yourself. You suck and swirl your tongue over his fingers and Suguru’s expression turns more cunning.
“Didn’t think my kids’ babysitter was this naughty,” Suguru comments with a chuckle following.
“It’s cause of you..” you murmur as he removes his fingers from your mouth, a string of saliva connected from your tongue and the tip of his fingers.
Suguru leans in to give you another kiss, lifting you off the ground with his strength and you wrap your legs around his waist. Your lips moves against his as he walks the two of you over to the living room, where he lays you down on the couch.
“Remember to keep your voice down, princess,” Suguru mutters as he trails his hand behind your back to the zipper of your dress. He gives you another quick kiss as you nod your head.
Suguru completely unzips your dress and lifts it over your head, tossing it to the side before examining your body with his eyes. “So perfect,” he says and lowers his body to kiss you again.
He grinds his body against yours and you could feel his bulge press against your clothed pussy. Even under all that clothing, you knew he was big. So big that you didn’t know if you could take it.
“Need you inside of me, Mister Geto. Please,” you whine as his hand slips under your bra to grope your breast.
“You that impatient?” Suguru chuckles against your skin before pressing several kisses down your neck and chest. But it’s obvious that he’s completely mesmerized. “Need my dick in you so badly, hm? I’ll give it to you, baby.”
Suguru unzips his pants, taking his hard cock out. It sprung up, already dripping in pre-cum. Your eyes were glued on his dick, mouth practically open. Your pussy quivered with the sight of it, knowing it’d be slipping in and out of you soon, making you beg for more.
He could feel his face flush as quickly takes off his shirt and he begins pumping his cock several times with his hand. “Can’t wait to feel your pussy around my cock.”
Suguru slips your underwear off, tossing it to the side with your dress and spreads your legs further apart before aligning the tip of his dick to your entrance. You bite your lip, feeling his tip glide against your wet folds.
“Still so wet..” Suguru murmurs, dick twitching with the feeling of your wet entrance. “Been waiting for this moment..”
“Me too.. sir..”
He pushes his cock inside of your pussy slowly, feeling your walls clench around him at an instant. You both let out moans, and Suguru lowers his body over you while using both of his hands to grab your hips.
Suguru was big, so fucking big. He stretches you out perfectly, as if your pussy was made just for his cock.
“Fuckkk,” Suguru grunts, pushing his entire length into your pussy.
“So big.. Oh g-god. Mister Ge—“
“Suguru. Call me, Suguru,” he interrupts as his face drops to your neck.
“Suguru..”
Hearing you say his name for the first time brought a warm feeling to his heart, it was so soft, sweet and affectionate. The way you looked at Suguru made him wonder if you actually felt the same way about him.
With no hesitation, Suguru thrusts immediately, grunting during the moment when he feels his cock grinding against the walls of your pussy. You cover your moans with your hand, and his thrusts become faster and deeper, hitting every sensitive part of your pussy.
“Fuck! Suguru-!” your arms wrap around him, nails beginning to claw his back.
Your moans start to resonate the room, despite trying to lower it, his cock was just too good. He thrusts fast, his balls slapping against your cunt and you swore you could feel him penetrate your womb. The wet and erotic sounds of skin slapping and your wet pussy starts to permeate the room and Suguru covers your mouth with his, refraining your loud moans to travel to the second level of the house.
Suguru’s pounding you so fucking good, just like you’ve always imagined him doing. But this was way better than all your imaginations and dreams. You’re in pure bliss, overwhelmed with the feeling of how good his cock his. Your legs wrap around Suguru’s waist as he thrusts his cock deeper and deeper as he could, enjoying your moans falling into his mouth.
“Fuck.. your pussy feels so good princess,” Suguru says as he pulls his lips away from yours.
He slips his cock out before pushing two fingers inside of your pussy and rubbing your clit with his thumb again. He thrusts them several times, getting moans out of you before slipping them out.
Suguru flips your body over, and you prop yourself with your two hands while his hands travels back to your hips. He grips the side of your hips, spreading your ass cheeks before slamming his cock back inside of you, making you wince.
“Suguru!”
This position made you feel him so deep inside. His cock rubs against your g-spot every thrust, making your body tremble and moans escape even more. Suguru noticed this made you louder, and he found it amusing and cute how you’re trying to stay quiet as possible.
Your pussy is clenching him so tight, making him grunt and moan. God, he knew he’d love this feeling. “F-Fuck, princess. Squeeze my cock just like that.”
“S-So close again.. Suguru-“
Suguru’s grip around your hip tightens to the point his hand print was marked and he fastens his pace, his hips slamming into your ass and the couch starts creating squeaking noises. Your upper body drops to the couch, unable to withstand propping yourself up. Your moans are buried within the couch and your back arches more to allow Suguru to fuck you deeper.
He could feel how deep he’s going in your pussy, it drove him insane. Fucking your kid’s babysitter should be the last thing to think of but he couldn’t help himself, especially on the first day he met you. For one, all he knew was that he wanted you. Wanted to hear you moan, cry out his name and kiss him. Wanted to cum inside of you and make you squirt. He’d make you his.
“Gonna cum soon, baby— fuck,” Suguru grunts, lowering his body over yours. One of his hands goes to grab your face, making you turn to face him. You both share a sloppy kiss, moans bouncing off each other’s tongues.
“Want your cum in me, Suguru..”
“Yeah? Gonna pump some into your womb. Gonna make you mine.”
You can barely speak, your mind becomes foggy and your eyes are rolling back. Moans can only tell how you’re feeling, and it’s enough for Suguru to know he’s fucking you the best.
Suguru’s lips trail down your neck and to your shoulders, and he peppers several kisses against your skin. He gently bites the skin of your back, returning his grip to your hips as he quickens his thrust, pounding you from the back.
“Fuck, fuck. I-I’m all yours, Suguru!” you cry out, trying to grip the seat of the couch as you reach your next orgasm. 
“Cumming too, shit—“ Suguru grunts, his dick pumping cum into your womb as you squirt over his cock and couch. He gives several slow thrusts, feeling the walls of your pussy pulsating and squeezing all of his cum out. 
You’re both panting and sweating, processing the moment that just occurred. Suguru’s cock is still buried deep inside of you, gaining the warm feeling of your pussy. He groans, finally slipping his cock out. 
His cum mixed with your juices drip out of your pussy, streaming down your inner thigh and onto the couch. Suguru is breathing heavily and he lowers his body in order to press a kiss against your temple. 
“Wanna stay here for the night?” Suguru questions, lips near your ear. 
“I don’t know..” you reply, turning your head to him before he kisses your lips. “I don’t have extra clothes.”
“Wear mines.”
Suguru kisses you once again, trying to convince you further.
“Come on. It’s late, besides you and I need a shower. And clean up the mess we made,” Suguru continues with a short chuckle. “Plus, I’m sure the girls will be thrilled to see you in the morning.”
You thought about it for a moment before nodding your head. “Okay.”
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LOAF4U. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 6 months
Note
maaay I request a fic where reader is in the mood while peepaw is just trying to work? Maybe they sit on his lap and it escalates from there, and he has to pretend nothing's happening while people come in and out of his office 👀 love your work, keep feeding us
I LOVEEEEE, I’m glad!!!
ℱ𝓊𝓃
Warnings: Smut, 18+ MDNI. Oral (m receiving), getting caught making out, grinding
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“Yeah. Yeah, the jobs still open.” William said, moving around in his chair, which was something he liked to do a lot.
“Great. I’ll..” his voice faltered when you opened the door, walking in innocently and shutting it again.
“I’ll call you back with all the details.” He said, the man on the line said a goodbye and hung up.
“What are you doing here? Not while I’m working, because-“ he started when you walked towards him. You rolled your eyes, and settled yourself in his lap. He shut his eyes, trying to ignore his building arousal.
“Hello to you too.” You said, giving him a kiss, and turning yourself to face him, now straddling him as you guys made out like a bunch of teenagers.
Some one entered the room, an intern. He held a few papers and stood there like a deer in headlights when you both stopped and turned to look at him.
“Sorry- sir! I was just.. I’ll go.” He said, quickly, opening the door and leaving as fast as he could.
You looked back at William, you laughed at it.
“Stupid interns.” He mumbled, grabbing your jaw and kissing you again.
It all escalated when you started to grind down on him, he let groans escape him.
Then there was a knock at the door, and so he pushed you onto the floor, fixing his tie as you huffed in annoyance.
“Come in.” He said, looking down at you with a warning gaze and back up to his door.
You didn’t listen to his warning, ignoring it as a brilliant plan started in your head.
“Sit, sit.” He motioned to the man, as he sat down across from him.
“So, the pizzeria job didn’t work out..?” He asked, slightly frustrated with the fact that his plan obviously did not work.
“No. I was wondering… if there was anything else..? I’ve been really struggling and-“
William nodded, and you slowly unzipped his pants. He sucked in a breath, and looked down at you. You looked back at him with a smirk.
He tried to kick you away lightly, but it didn’t work. When he looked back up at Mike, he sighed and looked through a file, trying his best to remain professional as you slowly took
“Mmm..” he let slip, playing it off as if he was thinking as he fumbled through the files.
He was up to the desk as close at possible, hoping to god that Mike wouldn’t realize. You licked the tip, giving it a kiss as he slightly shifted around.
“I- you- might have to give me some time.” He managed to get out, right after he finished his sentence you put him completely in your mouth, hollowing it.
“I’m- very busy right now and-“ he took in a deep breath, trying to contain all his noises. “And- yeah… it’s doable, just- some time.” His words were quick.
“Okay…” Mike said, a little suspicious but got up nonetheless.
“See you later.” William said awkwardly, letting a sigh of relief out when he shut the door. He looked back down at you.
“What the fuck was that?” He asked, letting out a moan at the same time, letting his hands fall to the armrests on the chair.
You released him from your mouth, a line of drool following you. He took a picture in his mind.
“Just wanted to have some fun. I was bored.” You said, resting your head on his leg, tracing circles on his thigh.
“Well don’t stop now.”
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clockwayswrites · 6 months
Text
City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 6
WC:1288 Masterpost CW: Self-esteem issues, past abuse, past experimentation, past starvation
“Hey Kid,” Jason said after he knocked on the door. It may have been left open a crack for safety reasons, but Jason still wanted to give the kid as much privacy as they could with all this.
The kid looked up at him from the bed with wide, startled eyes.
Right.
“I’m the one with the helmet.”
“I, yeah, same outfit,” the kid mumbled but didn’t look any less wide eyed.
Jason held back a sigh “Can I come in?”
“Sure, yeah,” the kid said as he forced himself to sit up against the wall with shaky arms.
Jason took the seat that Tim had used and kept a careful distance between them, even as he leaned forward and clasped his hands. “I want you to be honest with me, Kid, because you feeling safe here is the most important thing. I’ve made some soup and I’d like you to eat it and some bread, but if you don’t feel comfortable eating something I made we can do am MRE instead. That way you can know it’s still sealed.”
“No. I mean, no to the MRE. Soup sounds…” the kid had to stop and swallow. “That sounds really good.”
“Okay, Kid,” Jason said with as gentle of a voice as he could manage right then. “It’s only going to be a small portion to start, just to give your body time to adjust, but you keep it down and are still hungry there will be more. Whenever you’re hungry there will be food, I promise, and you don’t have to do anything to earn or deserve it. You can just ask whoever is around. Hell, when you’re well enough to walk around you can get anything you want from the fridge or pantry, okay?”
The kid nodded slowly, but that wide eyed look was back. Jason was going to have to warn the others about making sure that the kid ate and knew that he had free access to the food. They should get some granola bars, chips, and bottled drinks for the kid’s room too, but only once they knew the kid wouldn’t gorge himself.
“And just to check, any allergies or restrictions? I made the soup vegan, just to be safe, but it’s got some corn starch as a thickener.”
The kid shook their head.
“Good. After you eat, if you feel up to it, it would be good for you to take a bath or shower. But if you can’t,” Jason gave a little shrug, “that’s fine too. It can be another time.”
The kid shook his head. “I want to. I mean, if I can, I want to. A shower sounds… really good.”
“Yeah, I bet it does. I’ll go get you that soup and a sports drink. I know it’s going to suck, but we’re going to want to track you staying hydrated so you’ll be drinking lots,” Jason warned to another answering nod. He closed the door most of the way behind him again as he left the bedroom.
“He was awake then?” Dick asked softly when Jason moved to fill up a bowl.
“Yeah. Hey, can you start a log? I want to track what the kid eats and drinks and when,” Jason said.
“What’s the starvation concern?” Dick asked with a little frown as he tapped on the tablet.
“Right now I’m worried about the kid not believe he can eat whenever he’s hungry, so we’ll have to keep asking. But we need to watch for gorging. Lots of small meals often right now.”
Dick nodded. “Okay. I’ll make the log and set a silent alarm for whoever’s with him every hour. Did you talk about moving safe houses?”
Jason shook his head as he place two bowls and a plate of buttered bread on a lap tray. “We’ll let him get fed and through the shower first, maybe even another nap.”
“We don’t want him to get too settled here,” Dick pointed out.
“But we also don’t want to spook him,” Jason countered.
Dick just sighed. “Fucking timing.”
Jason opened his mouth—
“And if you make a dick joke right now I will throw something at you, little wing, I am not kidding.”
Jason help his hands up in surrender for a moment before he picked up the tray and headed back to the bedroom. He knocked with his foot before he pushed the door open.
The kid had fixed the bed while Jason was out of the room. He even straightened up the mess of tools that Tim had left.
It made Jason’s stomach turn over.
“You didn’t have to clean up,” Jason said, hoping to let the kid know he didn’t have do work to stay. “Red leaves a mess wherever he goes.”
The words had the opposite effect and the kid ducked his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched.”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Jason soothed. He’d have to mention this to the others too. “It’s nice not to accidentally step on a screw or something, just that you didn’t have to. Can I set the tray on your lap?”
The kid nodded and scrambled to straighten back up. Jason was careful not to touch him as he set the tray down and made sure it was balanced.
“So I divided the veggies up differently. Which bowl do you want?”
The kid’s eyes darted between the two bowls and then up to Jason, as if trying to find the right answer.
“I don’t mind either,” Jason added, casually as he could, and sat on the bed next to the kid. “I can get more if I want it. Hell, I probably will. Spoiler always says I’m a bottomless pit with how I eat.”
Slowly, the kid reached out to scoot the bowl more more potato chunks closer to him. He glanced up at Jason from under the messy white bangs. Jason just smiled and took the other bowl for himself. He blew on a spoonful of soup before starting to eat. A beat latter, the kid did the same.
Jason ate steadily, setting a rhythm for the kid to follow, and the kid was mimicking him. It was almost like the other didn’t even know how to eat any more. For a moment, Jason had to close his eyes and breathe. The Pit Rage wasn’t what it used to be, but there was a still an anger that could burn inside him and when it did, it burned so fiercely hot. Right then, it wanted to burn whoever did this to the kid to ashes. Jason didn’t much want to stop it, but he wouldn’t risk scaring the kid for vengeance.
Not when this was his new little brother.
(He wasn’t going to mess up this time, not again.)
The sound of the spoon scraping softly against the bowl next to him trailed off. Jason kept eating, focused on his own bowl, so not to call note to it. He’d like the kid to eat a little more, but he wouldn’t push it. He’d push so little with this kid, not outside of keeping him safe.
When the barely there weight settled against Jason’s side, he froze.
Slowly he turned his head as little as possible.
The kid was tipped over, head pillowed against Jason’s arm, sound asleep.
Jason reached up with his other hand and tapped his comm twice. Dick was at the door in a flash, silent despite having obviously run. The alert bled out of Dick as he took in the sight and his face split into a grin. Silently laughing, Dick raised the tablet still in his hands and started taking photos.
Jason flicked him off for the next shot.
Damn brothers.
---
AN: Another mostly soft Trauma Tuesday! But my is poor Danny messed up... at least he has his big brothers looking after him! (Even he doesn't know that part yet.)
I no longer tag, but you can subscribe here!
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hellodarling1357 · 3 months
Note
Hello! Heard your requests are open so could I please request a cassian x f!reader fic where the reader is a babysitter for cassian's baby girl (maybe less than a year old). cassian is a single father so as time goes on and cassian sees reader bonding so well with his baby, he starts liking her more and more. eventually asks her out and they end up getting together and all❤️
Tiny Toes
Thank you so much for the request! I had the best time writing this, it honestly could’ve gone on forever
A/N: sorry for the slight Nesta slander, I really do love her as a character but needed to have her do this :(
Enjoy 🥰
Word Count: 6.6k
You didn’t think you would be babysitting at this stage in your life but with your boss firing you because you refused to sleep with him, and then refusing to put in a good word for you when potential employers contacted him for a reference, it seemed like the next best, and your only, option. If anything, it was a means to an end in terms of supporting yourself whilst you got back on your feet and sorted something else out; the fact that you absolutely adored babies and children was just a bonus perk of the job.
When your close friend Elain told you that she knew someone who would really appreciate your help, you jumped at the opportunity. However, what you weren’t expecting was to come face to face with the General of the Night Court’s armies, crying baby in his arms and a distressed expression of his face.
“Y/N?”
“Yes, hi…” You trailed off, unsure how to address the male in front of you. General? Lord? But he didn’t seem to notice your hesitancy as he gestured you inside.
“Hey, I’m Cassian. Seriously, thank you so much for agreeing to this. I know it’s last minute, but somethings come up and I just… Well, I really need the help, so thank you.”
You smiled at him, taking the time to look around the open layout of the house as he tried to settle his crying daughter. You couldn’t help but cringe a bit at the state of the place. There were baby clothes and toys everywhere, plates and dirty laundry piled up, not to mention the daggers and knives that seemed to be scattered throughout the place.
“This,” Cassian said as he walked back into the lounge room, the babe now happily looking around, “is Otilia, or Ottie. Ottie, this is Y/N, she’s going to be looking after you while Daddy is away. You’re going to be a good girl for Y/N?” Ottie just smiled up at him as though he were her favourite person in the world, making happy little noises as she kicked her feet and grasped at the front of his top.
The sight had your heart melting. If you didn’t already know who Cassian was, there was no way in a million years you would’ve guessed that the male in front of you was the infamous General, the Lord of Bloodshed.
With Ottie still is his arms, Cassian moved around the room, gathering items, and trying to clean up what he could before leaving.
“I’ve left a note in the kitchen, just with all the general things like nap times, where the baby food is, where the nappies are, what her favourite toy is. But she’s a pretty happy baby so hopefully she won’t be any trouble.”
“I’m sure she’ll be perfect, won’t you, sweetheart?” You cooed at the little girl as she watched you with wide eyes. “Here, do you want me to take her so she can get comfortable with me while you’re still here?” You offered, as she wrapped her small hand around your finger.
“If you don’t mind. Don’t be offended if she starts crying, she usually takes a few minutes to warm up to new people,” Cassian passed her over, helping her settle in your arms, a protective hand cupping her cheek as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Well, look at that, you’re clearly some sort of baby whisperer.”
Smiling down at her, you gently tickled her with your pointer finger, grinning as her feet started kicking, her sweet melodic laugh filling the room. Cassian hurriedly pulled the rest of his gear together, sending lingering looks over to the pair of you as he did so.
“Everything alright?” You asked as you sat on the green velvet couch, Ottie still in your arms. You knew how hard it could be for the parents, having a complete stranger looking after their children, so you tried to give Cassian the chance to ask any questions or dispel any concerns before he left.
“Yeah, yeah sorry of course. All fine.” He seemed to hesitate before leaning against the table as he watched Ottie, a loving smile gracing his features. “Sorry,” a sheepish expression replaced that smile as he met your eye, “it’s the first time I’m leaving her, and I can’t seem to make myself walk out the door.”
You softly laughed, trying to ease his tension as you said, “That’s completely normal. If it helps, is there a way I can get in touch with you while you’re out? That way you’ll know straight away if something happens?”
He gave you a grateful smile but shook his head, “No it’s nothing like that. After everything I’ve heard Elain say about you, I trust you with her completely. It’s more so that I just don’t want to be away from her, don’t want to miss anything, you know? Even if it’s just the same smile I’ve already seen a hundred times,” He chuckled as he got up to press a kiss to the top of her head, then her cheeks, then her tiny, clenched hands. “Trust me, I know how pathetic this sounds, I don’t even know why I’m telling you, but I just really love hanging out with her. It’s just been the two of us against the world, especially after everything that happened with…” He suddenly stopped, as if catching what he was about to say.
“Anyway, I should be off. I’m already half an hour late and have had Rhys mind yelling at me for the last 15 minutes. Thank you so much, Y/N. I should only be gone a few hours.” With a final kiss to Ottie’s cheeks, Cassian walked out the door.
"Well now, what are we going to do today, sweetheart?" You asked the small baby in your arms. She just fixed you with another smile and burst into giggles.
*****
You had spent the better part of an hour playing with Ottie, hoping to tire her out so that she would easily go down for her nap. You plan miraculously worked, after wrapping her up in a blanket and running a soothing hand over her stomach, she fell fast asleep without even the smallest fuss. Cassian was right, she was a happy baby.
You quietly closed the door behind you and headed down to the kitchen. With nothing else to do, you figured you would help by cleaning the place up. With the dishes washed and drying, the benches wiped, and rubbish taken out, you started on the piles of laundry, however, a small painting tucked behind a chair in the corner of the lounge room piked your interest.
You picked Cassian out of the painting immediately, the telltale red Siphons and overall uncanny accuracy making it an easy conclusion. You tensed upon looking at the female painted beside him. The similarities between her and your High Lady were all too familiar, this was clearly her sister, Nesta.
Quickly putting the painting back where it had been hidden you felt guilt course through you; you hadn't meant to snoop. You knew what had happened between Cassian and Nesta. Everyone knew what had happened. They had been mated for just five years before falling pregnant then two weeks after the baby, after Ottie, had been born Nesta had simply left. It was all the people of Velaris could talk about, wild rumours and stories spreading about what had happened. Eventually, the truth came out; she had left Cassian, left her baby, for Eris.
Elain had explained to you the pressure her sister had felt and had realised she was only with Cassian because everyone had said that was what the mating bond required. But she wasn't actually happy with him, and Cassian hadn't been happy with her either. Then there had been a visit to the Autumn Court, and something had sparked between Nesta and Eris. She had felt torn and confused but a baby was never something she wanted, and Eris was offering her a life where she could be her own person, not someone shadowed by her High Lady sister, according to Nesta.
Given all of this, you were surprised by how put together Cassian seemed. You couldn't imagine the conflicting emotions he would've felt with his mate leaving just days after they had had a baby. But he seemed to have picked up the pieces and, no doubt, had the support of his family during that time, but you supposed there did reach a point where his duties to the court had to be met again, and you were more than happy to step in and help where you could.
*****
Several hours later, you had just finished giving Ottie her lunch when a piece of paper appeared on the table in front of you:
Y/N, Cassian has asked that I let you know he is going to be later than anticipated and that he is very sorry for the inconvenience. However, if this doesn't work, let me know and I'll have someone over to watch Ottie as soon as possible - Rhys
You blinked.
Rhys? As in Rhysand, your High Lord? Just casually sending you a magically note? You blanched at the thought of him even knowing you existed, which, you supposed made sense, seeing that you were friends with his wife's sister.
You didn't mind staying longer to look after Ottie, but you had no way of conveying that to Rhysand or Cassian. As if your thoughts had been sent out into the abyss, a pen appeared atop the paper as if in answer to your question.
Hesitantly, you picked it up, unsure how to even start a note of this manner that would be read by your High Lord.
It's not a problem, High Lord. Please tell Cassian that I can stay as long as required - Y/N
You didn't have a chance to read over the message before it was whisked away by magic. But, shit. Cassian had introduced himself to you as Cassian, but should you have referred to him as General in your note? Had you been too informal or improper. Before you could mull over it any further, the piece of paper was back in front of you:
Lovely.
By the way, just Rhys is fine - Rhys
Well, that settled that matter.
*****
You had given Ottie her dinner and put her down for bed with little fuss. There had been a few tears once she sensed that Cassian wasn't there, but you had managed to coax her back to her happy little self by quietly singing and rubbing soothing circles across her dark mass of hair until she fell asleep.
Now you sat curled up on the couch with the makeshift dinner you had prepared and a book that had been on the bulking bookshelf that sat in the corner of the room. You were sure that Cassian wouldn't have minded your rummaging through the pantry but had made enough for him to eat once he came home just in case.
An hour or so later, you had been so engrossed in your book that you didn't hear the front door open or the heavy footsteps that padded down the hall.
"Hi," You looked up with a slight jump, having been startled by Cassian's sudden presence. He was leaning against the doorway and looked absolutely exhausted. "Y/N, I am so sorry. I was up at some of the Illyrian camps and, well, things were worse than I anticipated... I won't bore you with all that, but I am so sorry for keeping you here."
You brushed him off, noticing the tension somewhat leave his body upon realising you weren't bothered by it.
"It's fine, I promise. The High Lord... Rhys," Cassian grinned at your correction, clearly privy to the notes that had passed between the two of you, "said you were going to be late. If it wasn't going to work, I would have let him know."
Cassian offered you another grateful smile as he slumped into the armchair opposite the couch. "How was she? Not too difficult?"
"She was perfect. A few tears at bedtime but we managed to sort that out. I think she was just missing you." You could have sworn his eyes twinkled at your last comment.
"Before I head off, I cooked some dinner and left a bit to the side for you in case you were hungry when you got back. I hope you don't mind?"
"Mind? Y/N, you are honestly cauldron sent. You also cleaned? All whilst looking after Ottie. Thank you."
You felt your cheeks heat up and preyed he wouldn't notice your slight blush.
"It was nothing, seriously. I had nothing else to do while Ottie was sleeping so thought I would help out. Why don't you go up and see her? I'll get dinner heated for you."
Cassian sent another grateful smile your way before leaving the room, you laughed to yourself as you heard his steps pick up in pace as he bounded up the stairs towards his daughter's room.
*****
He came back 10 minutes later just as you were putting on your coat and collecting your belongings.
"I've left your dinner on the stove to stay warm." You said over your shoulder. He really did look exhausted.
"Thank you, you have no idea how much of a life saver you were today." You brushed off the compliment as he led you towards the front door. "Oh, before you go, we never spoke about payment? How much do I owe you?"
Honestly, you hadn't even thought about payment, it had completely slipped your mind.
"Right. Don't worry about that now–"
"Y/N, I'm not going to not pay you for today."
"No, I know. But you look like you're seconds away from passing out, no offence. So go back inside, finish your dinner then go to bed. We can sort the money part out later."
"Okay, only if you're sure? Thank you again, so much. Get home safe, alright?"
"I will. Night, Cassian."
You had barely made it to the front gate before the door was opening again.
"Y/N? Before you go, would you mind looking after Ottie again in a few days? Rhys is needing me to get back into my work, so I'll need to have someone watching her while I'm away. You're so good with her, so if you wouldn't mind..." He trailed off.
"Of course, she's an absolute angel. I would love to look after her again. Let me know when you need me."
"Okay, Goodnight. Thanks again."
*****
Over a year had passed since you first met Cassian and Ottie. After the first few weeks, Cassian had sat you down and asked if you would be happy looking after her on a more permanent basis, so you had decided on four days a week while Cassian was busy helping out Rhys and the Inner Circle. Sometimes you would stay until later into the evenings if Cassian came home with piles of paperwork, helping with Ottie's bedtime and cleaning up the house, despite Cassian's protests that it was his mess to deal with.
"Y/N?"
You had just finished feeding Ottie her dinner when Cassian appeared in the doorway. You looked up at him, waiting for him to continue as you wiped the food away from her chubby cheeks.
"Ottie is turning two on Saturday, and I was just wondering, if you weren't doing anything, if you wanted to come to her birthday party? It won't be a big thing, but she adores you and it would be nice to have you there," You smiled at him, delighted that he even considered you important enough to be there to celebrate, but before you could reply, Cassian hurriedly continued, "Of course, there's no pressure. You probably want a break from us, it is your day off after all…"
"Cass, I would love to be there." His face lit up as your response.
"Good. Okay. Great," He remained in the doorway, still softly smiling as he watched you pick up Ottie from her highchair, "Well I better... Still got some work to finish off, so..." He gestured back towards his office and then made his way out of the room.
You were caught off guard by the momentary awkwardness that seemed to radiate from him, not used to seeing him in any other way but the confident and playful General who was absolutely smitten with his little girl.
*****
Standing outside Cassian's house, you lingered on the doorstep as you hyped yourself up to knock on the door. It had only just dawned on you as you walked over that the guests at Ottie's birthday party, weren't going to be any old day-to-day fae. No, you were about to spend the afternoon with your High Lord and Lady, and their inner circle. Not a daunting prospect in the slightest.
As luck would have it, you weren't given a chance to psych yourself out before the door opened, revealing a grinning Cassian and Ottie who merrily clapped and said your name when she saw you, arms reaching out for you to hold her.
"Hello, Birthday Girl. Don't you look beautiful." She giggled as you cooed at her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Hi, thanks for inviting me." You looked at Cassian now who was fondly watching the scene in front of him playout.
"Thanks for coming," Cassian opened the door wider for you to come inside, taking the pink gift bag you had brought with you that contained Ottie's birthday present. "Fair warning, everyone here has a bone to pick with you."
You froze, body tensing at his words.
"What?" You would have cringed at the stutter in your voice had you not been so worried. But Cassian just laughed and led you further into the house, a hand on the small of your back.
"Well, apparently since you've come along, Ottie doesn't have the time of day for anyone else. She was fussing all morning until she saw you walking up the road through the kitchen window. You seemed to have gotten lost somewhere between the gate to the door with how long you stood out there, so we thought we would see what you were doing, didn't we Ottie?" Cassian gave you a knowing smirk, clearly aware of your nerves towards who you would be spending the day with.
"Come on, I'm just joking. They're all dying to meet you."
Right on queue, a female, who you knew without needing to be told was Morrigan, jumped up from her seat as you walked into the room.
"Y/N," She squealed as she bounded over and pulled you into a tight hug, Cassian quickly grabbing Ottie out of your arms. "It's about time we all finally get to meet you. First Elain kept you all to herself, and now Cassian? If you had said no to coming today, I would have gone over to your house myself and forced you to be here."
"Mor..." Cassian's tone was laced in warning, but you immediately felt at ease in her presence.
"Come on, let's introduce you to the others."
*****
To your absolute delight, the rest of Cassian's family welcomed you into their group with open arms. Elain had jumped up and refused to leave your side once she noticed you had arrived. Having been away with Lucien for some time, it had been a while since the two of you had been able to catch up.
After the presents had been opened - Ottie had adored the fluffy bear you had gotten her - everyone was lounging outside, watching as little Nyx sat with his younger cousin in his lap, showing her all of the presents she had received and telling her the best way to play with them in order to have the most fun. Clearly the ever-destined High Lord in the making, you had grinned, already seeing the type of male he would become as Feyre and Rhys watched on sharing content smiles.
It was only then that you realised that Cassian was missing from the group. You excused yourself and headed back inside, searching the house until finally finding him in Ottie's bedroom.
"Hi," You voice was quiet as you made your presence known, unsure if he had just forgotten something up here or if he needed a moment to himself.
"Hey," He turned to face you, looking as though he had just been pulled out of some sort of trance. However, his lopsided smile was quick to return as he said, "sorry for leaving you out there with that lot."
Letting out a laugh you walked into the room, "They're really not that bad. Imagine what the other courts would think if they ever saw the High Lord of the Night Court dressed up in a pink tutu with a fluffy matching crown on his head."
Cassian laughed at that, smile widening as the voices and shrill giggles from outside echoed through the bedroom window, but that reserved expression was quick to reappear.
"You alright?" You quietly asked, already having a sense of what was eating him up.
"Yeah, fine." A glance at your unconvinced expression had Cassian letting out a low sigh before continuing. "I thought she would've at least shown up today. I know she wants no part in this, but it's still her daughter’s birthday. For Ottie's sake, I thought she would've shown. She needs her mum."
You let out a sigh of your own now, crossing the space between you and wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.
Pulling away you said, "Cass, I get it. Believe me I do. But Ottie is doing just fine. You're absolutely amazing with her and it's so special watching the two of you together. And in terms of her needing her mum, look at all the amazing females Ottie has in her life: Mor, Feyre, Elain, Amren. There's no short supply of love for her, if anything, Nesta is the one missing out on this."
The words had rushed out of you without being able to truly process what you had said. You and Cassian had never directly spoken about Nesta, it had always been an unspoken awareness that you knew what had happened and that was enough. Looking at the ground, you could feel yourself tensing with worry at the thought of having overstepped.
"And she has you."
"What?"
"And Ottie has you. You were listing off the amazing females she has in her life but missed the one who she spends the most time with. The one who she loves the most."
There was no stopping the blush that crept over your face as you stared back at Cassian.
"Cass-"
But the sounds of hurried little footsteps running up the stairs interrupted whatever you had been about to say.
"Uncle Cass, Uncle Cass," Nyx burst into the room, dramatically taking in deep breathes as he waved up at you.
"What is it, bud?" Cassian shot you a bemused glance, still somewhat laced with the intensity from before, then knelt in front of Nyx who lifted his arms and placed his little hands on Cassian's shoulders.
"It's cake time. Come on." Then he was running out of the room again.
"You'd think it was the end of the world with the entrance he just made." You let out a laugh but before you could respond, Nyx was bursting back in.
"Come on." He yelled, grabbing you and Cassian by the hand, and forcing you down the stairs to where Elain had just finished lighting the candles on top of the cake.
*****
The rest of the afternoon raced by, so fast, in fact, that you didn't have time to process the moment you and Cassian had shared until you were home. The intensity in his expression as he stared at you and the implication of his words... Your heart was racing at the mere thought.
Letting out a groan you tossed and turned in your bed, unable to settle your racing thoughts at the realisation that you had, somehow, without even being aware of it starting, had begun to fall for Cassian. To make matters even worse, you had no idea where you truly stood with him. Despite the closeness and friendship that had formed, he was technically still your boss.
You had a whole day before you were due back to look after Ottie. A whole 24 hours to figure out how you wanted to move forward in the wake of this realisation.
*****
Monday morning arrived much too quickly for your liking. It wasn't until the door opened and Cassian greeted you on the other side of it that you decided you weren't going to do anything about your feelings. He had been emotional the other day, grieving what he thought was missing from his daughter's life and, honestly, you thought to yourself, he probably hadn't even intended it to come out the way you had perceived it. He wasn't wrong, you did spend a lot of time with her. But you were paid to do so, so did it really count?
"Morning, Y/N? Have a good rest of you weekend?" Oh, sure it had been fantastic. Just a nice dose of inner turmoil. But of course, you didn't say any of that.
"I did," You smiled at him, acting as though your insides weren't currently screaming out. "Did Ottie have a good birthday? It was so nice meeting everyone."
As Cassian got ready to leave, your usual chatter filled the space as you made yourself a coffee, but you couldn't help but notice that his usual, carefree smile didn't quite meet his eyes, and that he seemed to be watching you as though waiting or assessing something.
"Alright, well I might be home a bit later tonight, if that's alright?" You brushed him off, of course it was alright, it always was. You sat down next to Ottie as she continued to happily munch away on her breakfast. "Okay, bye Ottie, you'll be good for Y/N today?" He pressed a kiss to her cheek before turning back to you, "See you later, yeah?"
"Mhm," You replied, "have a good day."
"You too." Then he was leaning down and pressing a kiss to your cheek as well before standing up and leaving as though nothing had happened.
What. The. Fuck.
You stared at the empty door frame he had walked through, only half hearing the front door close as he took off.
Again.
What. The. Fuck.
You turned to look at Ottie, as though she would provide you with some sort of explanation as to what just happened, or to confirm that it had even happened in the first place, that it wasn't just something you had imagined.
But she provided you with no deeper insight as she sat in her seat, happily kicking her little feet and giggling to herself. Upon noticing you watching her, she gave you one of her big cheesy grins you had grown to love and offered you a piece of the fruit Cassian had cut up for her.
*****
What. The. Fuck.
Cassian's heart was racing as he flew up to the House of Wind. What had he done?
Clearly you were more than happy to ignore his complete lack of control from the other day, when he all but said you were basically like a mum to Ottie. He was surprised he hadn't scared you off, especially when all you had signed up for was to be her babysitter, which was a harsh truth in itself that Cassian found himself constantly having to remember whenever he watched you and his daughter interact and he felt his heart stammer in his chest.
And then to turn around and kiss you on the cheek before leaving for work - as you turned up for work, he had to remind himself, again - as though it was a normal morning, between a normal little family...
He felt sick.
He had really screwed up.
"What's wrong with you today?" Azriel asked as Cassian landed with an ungrateful grunt next to the training ring located on the roof.
"Nothing."
"You sure?" Rhys now asked, sensing Cassian's inner turmoil even through the steadfast mental shield he had up around his mind.
With a grumble, Cassian lowered said shield, giving Rhys a look at what had occurred that morning. Scowling even deeper when Rhys let out a bark of a laugh. The snicker that followed from Azriel as Rhys showed him what had happened sent Cassian marching into the training ring, readying himself to forget his stupidity as Azriel approached to spar with him.
*****
He hadn't even got half an hour into his training before pulling up short, his mind was too distracted.
"Should I have stayed?" He blurtedly asked.
"What?" Unbeknownst to Cassian, Rhys and Az had been having a silent conversation whilst he had been spaced out.
"This morning. With Y/N. Should I have stayed and, I don't know, talked about it?"
He missed the glance his brother's shared.
"Well," Rhys started. "What would you have talked about?"
"I don't know, what is there to talk about?" Cassian snapped back, frustration and worry getting the better of him the more he thought about what he might now lose.
"Would you have tried to pass it off as a joke, or explain it away?" Rhys cautiously asked, trying to judge which direction Cassian's mind was heading in.
"Or would you have stayed and finally admitted your feelings to her?” Azriel interjected.
"My feelings?"
"Yes, you idiot. And the fact that you're in love with her."
"I'm not in love with..." Cassian trailed off though. He was, he absolutely was, and there was no point in denying it.
Azriel scoffed, "Please, you're in love with her. We've never seen you like this before with anyone."
"Well, Nesta-" Cassian tried to counter but Rhys cut him off.
"Nesta wasn't love. That was the mating bond, you've said as much to us multiple times so don't try to deflect now."
Cassian let out a deep sigh, he wasn't expected home for a few hours and a plan was starting to form in his mind.
*****
You had been surprised, but pleased all the same, when Feyre turned up with Nyx.
"Y/N! Hi, how are you?" You still weren't quite used to the casualness that surrounded the rulers of your court but did your best to act as though being in their presence wasn't one of the most intimidating things you had ever experienced.
"I'm good. What are you doing here?"
"Well, it's such a lovely day, Nyx and I thought it would be nice to get you and Ottie over to ours for the afternoon."
"Oh, thank you. Are you sure though?"
"Of course, we can walk back now. Go along the Sidra if you'd like?
"Easy, let me just grab Ottie's things."
Feyre shut the door behind you, Nyx already running over to where Ottie sat with her toys and planting a big kiss to her cheek.
"There's no need to grab much. Cass bought double ups of basically everything and has them stored at ours for when we look after her. Just yourselves will do."
You smiled warmly at her before scooping Ottie up, "Do you want to go play at Auntie Feyre's with Nyx?
Her excited squeals were enough of an answer, still, she excitedly said "yes, yes, yes, yes, yes," as you headed out the door, watching as her and Nyx ran ahead of the two of you.
*****
The afternoon spent with Feyre was the perfect distraction from your racing thoughts after what had happened with Cassian that morning.
The two of you chatted outside until the sun started to set, watching Ottie and Nyx run around across the grass.
"Well, hello, Feyre, Y/N." Rhys greeted as he walked out to join you, still dressed in his leathers, clearly having just got home.
You said hi back, watching with a laugh as Ottie caught sight of who now stood with you.
"Uncle Rhysie." She yelled, her little feet pounding across the grass as she leapt into his arms.
"Hello, princess. How's my favourite girl?" Ottie giggled at the nickname and hugged into him even tighter, "What do you say to a sleepover tonight, Ots?"
Turning to you, Ottie still in his arms, Rhys said, "Cass is fine with it. I think he needed you to head back at some point before going home tonight though."
"Oh, alright. Well, I might head off now then. Bye Ottie." She looked around at you, eyes wide as she wriggled out of Rhys' hold and ran over to you.
"You're not staying?" Her lip started to quiver so you quickly wrapped her up into a hug before the tears started.
"Not tonight, sweetheart. But we can play all day tomorrow, yeah?" She seemed to contemplate this for a moment before deciding it was acceptable enough and planted a kiss on your cheek before running back over to Nyx.
Feyre and Rhys were both smiling at you, clearly watching, and overhearing the entire interaction.
"What?" You asked with a laugh.
"Nothing, you're just really good with her."
"Oh, well..." You trailed off, not sure what to say as Rhys' words from before struck. Cassian needed to talk to you about something and, well, shit, clearly you were about to get fired, or, more kindly, were about to be told your ‘services were no longer required’.
"I'll see you both later. Goodnight." You missed the conspiratorial grin they shared behind your back, Rhys letting his thoughts drift over to Cassian's mind to tell him you were on your way.
*****
The house was dark when you got back, the only form of light was coming from the study and, from the looks of it, the backyard.
"Cass?" You called out as you closed the door behind you.
Hurried movements sounded from his office, then Cassian was quickly walking towards you.
"Y/N. Hi."
"Hi."
You felt as though your entire body was on guard. You needed to explain that you could easily put your feelings aside, but losing the chance of being in Ottie and Cassian's lives was something that filled you with dread, you would be happy to stay on in whatever capacity you could.
"Do you... Do you want to talk?" Cassian's nervousness was unsettling, yet you followed as he led you towards the couch.
"What are you doing tonight?"
That wasn't the question you were expecting.
You hesitated before answering, "Just going home I guess."
He seemed to contemplate your answer, looking so much like Ottie did earlier when you were saying goodbye.
"Dinner?" His voice was strained, leaving you even more confused.
"Um, yeah I'll be having dinner."
"No... Ugh this isn't working." He leant his head against the back of the couch, running his hands over his face.
"Cassian, are you alright?"
"Yes. No. I don't know." You were stunned, maintaining your silence as Cassian continued. "This morning, Y/N, I'm sorry. I don't know what that was, it just happened without me thinking about what I was doing. And then everything I said at Ottie's birthday. And now, fucks sake..." He trailed off again, leaving you just as confused as he blurted out "I need to have dinner."
"Oh, sure," You felt as though you were waiting for the other shoe to drop, as if his bizarre behaviour was some sort of test. "Did you want me to heat something up? I think there's still some frozen pasta from the other night." You went to stand but Cassian placed a hand on your knee to stop you before quickly pulling it away.
"No, it's alright. I've got it sorted." Then he was standing, offering you his hand as he guided you towards the back door.
You froze at the sight before you. Candles flickered across the table and the deck, a table set for two, lined with trays of food and a bottle of wine which sat in the middle of it all.
"Cass?"
"Look, Y/N, I get it if this is completely out of line. If it is then I am so sorry. But I needed you to know that this, whatever this is between us, means something to me."
You couldn't move, you were stuck on the spot as Cassian continued, the flickering lights casting a shadow across his handsome features.
"It's not even because you're so good with Ottie. I mean, you are, you're amazing with her and she adores you, so, so much. But it's how you treat me. Even that first time you looked after her, I was so close to crumbling. I felt so torn, between staying home and looking after my baby girl, but also knowing I needed to step back into reality and my responsibilities. It wasn't fair on the others that they had to pick up my slack."
You tried to interject, to say something about how the others wouldn't have minded, not one bit, especially with everything Cassian had been going through at the time, but he was already moving on.
"Not going to lie, I was reluctant when Elain first told me about you. It was nothing to do with you," He quickly clarified, "But more so because you were a complete stranger to me, and as much as Elain vouched for you, I still felt wary."
"Then you walked in and that first time you held her; I swear my heart skipped a beat. Even with Elain and Feyre, it took them ages to be able to hold her without Ottie bursting into tears. But with you, it all just seemed to fall into place." His voice was beginning to shake, and you silently wiped the tears from your eyes as he kept talking.
"But if anything, Y/N, it's the way you make me feel. Before even knowing me, you had me convinced that I wasn't completely failing at being her dad, that even though everything was well and truly fucked up, she was doing just fine. You helped me realise that I was going to be fine as well."
Cassian approached you now, calloused hands reaching up to your cheeks as he wiped away the rest of your tears with his thumbs. "So, I guess what I'm trying to say, and what I'm not doing a very good job of getting across, is that I love you?"
A watery laugh left you at the overall Cassian-ness of the statement, the sound making him grin lovingly at you.
"I love you, Y/N. And I am so thankful for the day that you walked into our lives and changed them for the better. And, assuming I haven't completely misread the situation, and assuming that those are happy tears," He laughed, his own eyes beginning to well. "I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me?"
With his hands still on your cheeks, you brought your arms up around his neck and pulled him down so that his face was level with yours.
"I thought you were going to fire me." You whispered.
A cheeky smile passed over Cassian's face, "Well, technically, I suppose I am? I can't have my...whatever you are to me now, being paid to look after my kid now, can I?"
"How romantic. Being fired then called your 'whatever'."
"We'll figure that out later." Cassian murmured against your lips.
"Yes, I suppose we will." Then you were leaning forward, lips pressing to his, feeling as though you were finally home.
*****
Part 2
There are so many opportunities for bonus spin-offs that I’m excited to write but if you want to see any particular scenario, let me know 🥰
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sordidmusings · 7 months
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Tender Love and Care - Hair Care (Buggy x Reader)
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Art by Capitanpoops (link keeps expiring QnQ)
A/N: Ah yes, another 'taking care of Buggy's head' fic to take up space on the internet. Just gotta indulge in giving this man some tlc. Did I write four thousand words of simping for the cringefail pirate clown's hair? Yes. And I'd do it again >:p
Word Count: ~4 k
Warnings: feminine leaning afab!reader (no pronouns or gendered titles), Lots of Feelings, yearning, possibly angst?, probably hurt/comfort?, waxing very poetic, Buggy being a prickly bitch who doesn't know how to receive affection, Buggy also being a delusional bitch who immediately latches on to that affection
amab!Version
Next ->
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“Touch the makeup and I’ll bite your fingers off!”
“I’m quaking.”
“...I’ll spit in your face.” His eyes narrowed while you blanched. “I’ve got damn good aim too so you better watch those big ol’ eyes.” Almost a compliment? Progress.
“To save us both from catastrophe, I’ll let you keep your grease-face,” you promised. After a few more seconds of giving you the stink eye (really, you should be taking notes because his form is exemplary), Buggy finally settled back into your hold. His stubble scratched lightly at your palms and you allowed your thumbs a scant few passes from his cheek bones to the back of his jaw. That was easy enough to play off as mindless movements while you examined him for the coming wash. Hopefully.  You were at least putting in the effort to keep the affection in your chest from blooming into a wide smile on your face, lest he begin spitting like a wet cat again.
After placing him down on your clothes chest, you began gathering together the things you’d need to clean him up. You had already prepared a large basin of steaming water before you had grabbed Buggy from Zoro for your night shift with him. If he had truly protested against you then you’d just have extra water to pamper yourself with for your nightly routine. What a loss. While you flitted around grabbing a cup, a pile of towels, and care products, Buggy took to commenting about whatever his eyes fell on around your room. Your half-assed replies did nothing to discourage his gentle roast of your safe space. He only shut up when you picked him back up and brought him over to the basin.
You were taken by surprise when you took off his bandana.  You had guessed that his hair was thick from the pieces that framed his face, but you hadn’t expected long locks to be wrapped up in there. They slipped and fell down like silk despite being in clear need of a wash, and you started to become a bit excited to see how they would come to shine under your care.
“What’s wrong with you? Never seen hair before?” There was a bit more bite to him all of a sudden and it hit you that he may be self-conscious from your staring.
“Never seen yours before, duh,” you teased. “You should wear your hair out as a power move against all the scrangly ass men in these waters.”
Buggy took a blank-faced moment to process your words. Probably weighing your sincerity against the backlog of insults he’s heard in his life. Unfortunately, one joking compliment never stood a chance.
“Whatever, just do your job.” His bitter tone made you keep your mouth shut and drop the topic. For now.
Seeing how he had a lot more hair than anticipated, you got up again to grab yet another towel so that you could use it as a cushion. Finally settled, you grabbed Buggy in one hand, the cup in the other, and got to work. You had laid a small board across the basin so you could rest Buggy on it instead of having to hold him up the whole time. You may have gotten strong in this life, but you were not masochistic enough to try holding him up throughout this process. You made sure to be extra gentle when you put him to rest on the back of his head, mindful that the hard plank wasn’t the most comfortable.
Wetting his hairline was taking longer than you thought. The soft noises from the pouring water hitting his scalp and trickling through his hair into the basin below felt loud in the stillness of the room. Everything had a languid air like you could breathe freely without thought or time to measure the passing of each exhale. Wanting to check in, you looked down from your task and into Buggy’s face. Despite all his past showboating, Buggy was having difficulty keeping his gaze anywhere near your face.  You decided to take pity on him in his discomfort but not too much. “So how’d you get your damn good aim?”
Silence.
You’re beginning to think that him looking at you like you’re stupid is his comfort zone.
“You know, that ‘damn good aim’ that makes my ‘big ol’ eyes’ easy targets?” you supplied.  At first, you thought he would roll his eyes and make more digs at you, but he finally caught you off guard.
“It’s a trade secret,” he said with a growing smile and a glint in his eyes. His face grew even more pleased when you smiled mischievously back at him.
“Clown trade?”
He hummed out an affirmative. You saturated the last of his hair at the front and sides and now needed to dunk the rest in the basin. The sheer amount of long blue locks that this pretty, pretty man had may cause it to overflow, but you supposed that’s just a workplace hazard when becoming a glamor clown’s hairdresser. You paused in lowering him to look around quite dramatically (squinty eyes, pursed lips, and all) before leaning slightly closer to stage whisper, “You can tell me; I ain’t no snitch.”
You barely caught the laugh that he choked short in order to keep up his serious facade. He let his eyes wander the room to double check your surveying and pretended to be in thought. He let out a heaving sigh and said, “Okay, okay, but you have to lean in close. Can’t have this getting out.”
Ever obliging, you turned your head and leaned until you felt his warm breath on your skin and the roundness of his nose tickling to top of your ear. You were thankful he couldn’t see the little shiver down your spine or the goosebumps spreading down your neck. He was thankful you couldn’t see him close his eyes to savor the scent of your perfume. All was still for a few breaths too long.
“The secret?” you prompted, thinking he was waiting for your urging or that he was just trying to make you squirm. You didn’t see his eyes flutter open while he forced thoughts other than your closeness back into that head of his. Okay, he really needed to do something to reel himself back in and get some control of the situation.  Easier said than done when he’s only a head.
You felt as much as you heard him take a deliberate inhale… only for a loud raspberry to be blown right next to your ear.
Nearly dropping him in shock, you quickly pulled your head back and held him at arm’s length like a misbehaved puppy. Through his canting cackles, Buggy met your wide eyes with a proud grin. It didn’t even need the help of his makeup to split his face. Damn, you could stare at that forever. He had just the prettiest eyes you think you’d ever seen. The way they shifted color under the low lights and sparkled with his smile had you feeling entranced. It had the same commanding presence and addicting warmth as flames with their own swirling colors and sparking embers. You thought your poetic idioms for him would always center around the sea, especially for his blue-green eyes, but here we are.
The corner of his smile started to twitch downward under your stare until wild and cheerful giggles burst from your lips. They were the kind to shake your shoulders and scrunch your cheeks up into your eyes and he’s now certain that he has fucked right up. Buggy felt alarms blaring in his mind as he took in your joy and was certain he would make an absolute fool of himself in any and all ways possible to keep getting hits of it. Between your settling laughter, you managed to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring that wisdom with me to my grave.”
Readjusting your grip, you moved forward and dunked the back of Buggy’s head fully into the water. He sighed out at the sensation, but he fully melted when one of your hands went to support the back of his skull and the other flowed through his tresses to make sure all of them were wet. You let yourself take your time, both to make sure you were thorough and to indulge yourself in the comfort of the moment. A tenderness spread through you when you saw that this was also indulging Buggy. His breath was slow and steady, and his eyes were resting closed to better focus on the sensations coming to him. You truly were a people pleaser at heart and seeing someone so bedraggled and affection-starved accept your care made your heart and head feel fuzzy.
You slowly leaned him more upright and used your other hand to wipe out some of the excess water. Buggy felt you shuffling around, and his eyes opened to see what you were up to. After you moved him to rest on the flat bottom of his neck on top of the softest towel that he’s felt in ages, he realized that you went through the trouble to try to make even that wooden board comfortable for his sake. He was starting to feel even more uncertain and out of his element.
Careful fingers carded through and spread out his hair behind him while an equally careful gaze watched over their work. After lathering your hands with a shampoo bar scented by vanilla and spices, you set to work giving him the scalp massage of a lifetime.
While focusing on doing the best job possible and maybe also the beautiful color of his hair was keeping you from thinking about anything else, Buggy had no such luxury. He had nothing to direct his nervous energy at - didn’t even have fingers to fidget with! - so he closed his eyes and tried to keep his face neutral. Everyone enjoys a good scalp massage or at least some kind of pampering so it wouldn’t have been weird for him to visibly enjoy it, but something watery and vulnerable was pressing at his throat under your tender care. His mind and body (well… head) were at odds. While his train of thought spun every which way only to be tethered back to the word ‘why’, his muscles melted until they were soft and pleasantly limp. Has his brow ever been so smooth? His jaw so loose? His lips so softly set? Oh God, you must have noticed the stubborn stiffness in his neck because your fingers abandoned his hair to firmly rub from the base of his skull to where he met the towel and that was truly his undoing.
With a rumbly hum, Buggy finally gave in to temptation and tied his mind to your movements. He let himself imagine affection there - imagine that this was special and just for him. You’ve never tended to anyone else like this. You offered because you simply had to know what his hair felt like. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted it much more than you ever wanted to touch anyone else. If he opened his eyes and looked up at yours, he would see them pouring with love, just like your hands were, and you would look sweetly down at him with your pretty eyes and pretty smile and say lovely things and you’d love him-
You’d love him.
Fuck.
You noticed Buggy suddenly flinch under your hands and you tensed up.
“Are you okay? Did I snag your hair?” You hadn’t felt anything tug but you supposed you could’ve missed it.
Buggy cleared his throat before stiffly responding, “No. Keep going.”
Something thick in his tone caught your attention and you looked to see his expression was tense instead of the blissed out one you had admired not too long ago. That won’t do. You went back to the tried and true pressure points on the scalp that you knew from experience eased anyone up. Checking his face again, you noticed it was more relaxed but still too guarded for your tastes. Deciding he must be getting antsy, you switched to working the shampoo down his hair after getting a touch more product on your hands. The time it took to get it properly sudsed and rinsed was calm, despite the fact that there was some undercurrent to the air that felt charged. Maybe it was just from seeing the talkative and bratty clown be so subdued. As you began spreading conditioner through his hair, you decided that it was time to engage him again.
“This bar is my favorite; nothing makes my hair softer,” you said. Already, his hair was relaxing to glide even more smoothly between your fingers. You weren’t ready to give the feeling up, so you spent the entire time that the conditioner was setting to run your fingers through his hair.
Buggy couldn’t do anything at the moment to judge your claim, but the smell alone made him understand why it was your favorite. It matched that of the shampoo bar, but the richer ingredients in the conditioner highlighted the comforting tones of the vanilla and the sensuality of warm spices and wood. He relished in it on every inhale, hoping to unravel and memorize its every undertone. Was that a touch of orchid in there? A little pink peppercorn? Maybe some incense and amber at the base? Buggy suddenly felt ridiculous. He was never one to give much thought to fancy perfumes, yet here he was trying to dissect your scent like a sommelier tasting a new wine. 
You made quick work of rinsing his hair this final time and gently pushing and squeezing any excess water out. You set Buggy back on a towel, this time one that was spread on the floor. It was the one that you had just been sitting on. Buggy was embarrassed that he noticed and enjoyed the fact that he could still feel your body heat on it.
“How many of those things do you have?” Buggy scoffed as you pulled yet another towel over to dry his hair. You bopped his forehead with a finger in warning against further sass.
“You can never have too many. It’s something that you use daily and they come in handy during emergencies,” you explained.
“Oh yeah like what?”
“Well, I was thinking of situations like having to soak up a spill or blood, but the state of your hair definitely qualifies.”
The outburst was immediate.
“I KNEW YOU WERE MAKING FUN OF ME YOU DAMN LIAR! HOW DA-”
Good thing you were prepared for this and stuffed some of yet another towel into his screaming mouth. He bit down on it harshly and glared at you with all his might. Snarls and grumbles still made their way through the cloth, letting you know just how displeased he was. You were a little shocked to find that despite being gagged and despite just being a head that his glare still actually intimidated you. The time spent with the crew treating him like a harmless little pest had helped you forget that, when push came to shove, he could back up his talk with violence.
The brief glimpse of fear in your eyes gave him a twinge of satisfaction but mostly felt a lot more hollow than he’d expected. Wasn’t this what he wanted? 
When you reached back out to continue drying his hair, you were more tentative than he had ever seen you and his mood dropped even further. Even with your caution, the way that you moved the towel over his hair and gently squeezed more water out of it was filled with care. The whole thing felt very foreign to him. Buggy usually rubbed his towel through his hair chaotically like the more forceful he was the sooner he could get done with the bothersome task. You were working over him like any undue force would be an insult. Like he was something precious. That watery feeling started pressing on him again.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” you started quietly. “I just meant to poke fun, not make you actually feel insulted.” After a few more soft pats with the towel, you slowly removed his makeshift gag. He took a moment to wiggle around his jaw and get the dry feeling out of his mouth.
“Yeah, well good job, dumbass,” he bit. You winced at the hurt in his tone. “Just finish up.”
You took a moment to recenter yourself while you grabbed your comb and brush. This was not how you wanted this to go. One wrong comment had sent this whole interaction spiraling and it made you sad. Sensitivity like that was usually built up from years of feeling the same hurts over and over again, and you didn’t ever want to be someone to aggravate an already festering wound, especially not on someone who you genuinely enjoyed. Not on someone who you were increasingly craving affection from. This needed to be fixed. Steeling yourself for the resistance you were about to meet, you began combing the ends of his hair and spoke, “The blue color is so pretty.”
He ignored you. As expected.
“It was one of the first things I noticed about you.” He still wouldn’t even glance up at you. “Also how it brings out the color of your eyes.”
He snorted dismissively in a way that very clearly told you he wasn’t believing a word you said. Also expected. You’re just going to have to soldier on until this eventually worked… maybe worked… hopefully worked?
Just as in the rest of the process, you were slow and thorough when combing his hair. You murmured compliments to him about how soft it is; how thick and how beautiful. By the time that you had switched to using your brush, he was showing signs of being worn down by your flattery. His face was more relaxed and he let himself look around instead of trying to burn a hole through the floor. All you could focus on, though, was how downcast and tired his eyes looked.
“Alright, I’m all finished up,” you told him. “I’m going to put you in the hammock for a minute while I get ready for bed.”
After placing him in the middle of your bedding, you disappeared behind a dressing screen. The routine of bathing  yourself with a washcloth and bowl of soapy water eased you. Since you had taken so much time tending to Buggy, the last bowl of fresh water had become lukewarm. Despite this, the final wipe down had you feeling refreshed and ready to jump into bed. It was no soak in the tub, but still left you feeling much better after a long day of helping work around the ship.
You had set about your routine briskly so that you didn’t leave Buggy waiting too long. Little did you know, he didn’t mind the time of having nothing to do besides enjoy the soft blankets you curled up in every night. He was trying to soak it in before you inevitably put him back down on the floor. If the night had taught him anything, you’d at least put him on one of those fluffy towels instead of throwing him back in the bag like the others did.
You came over to him on the hammock and he admired how you looked, now clean and fresh in a modest slip. When you picked him back up, your face and body language were as placid as he had ever seen them and he was surprised at how content that made him feel. He readied himself to be moved away, left cold and forgotten, but he was astonished when you plopped yourself in your bedding instead with him still in your hands. The shock must have shown on his face because you giggled at him and gave him a bright smile. Even with the bumpy road that the night had been, your smile made him soft and content. He was realizing with more and more resignation that your smile and laugh would let you get away with anything when it came to him.
“So no floor? Trying to bribe me with favors?” His voice was mostly back to that sarcastic lilt you’ve come to adore.
Content that he was feeling better, you answered, “Nah, just using you so I can have a teddy bear. Haven’t had a good one in ages.”
Making good on that promise, you made sure that he was securely nestled into your neck and shoulder. You used both of your arms to cradle him there and both hands to continue your worship of his hair. It was just barely damp and the coolness felt nice on your hands, especially in contrast to the cozy heat emanating from his head. His long eyelashes tickled at your neck every time he blinked, just like the light scruff on his jaw teased at your chest. His big nose felt cozy rested on your clavicle, and you had to resist the urge to reach down and trail your fingers on it. A giddy and victorious feeling flushed through you when you felt him close his eyes a final time and sink into your embrace.
Buggy should have known that he was doomed from the start. He was having a hell of a time trying not to moan at your fingers scratching and massaging his scalp, both during the hair care and now, when he was held in your arms. He couldn’t stop his little movements to nestle into you and get just that much more of your warmth and touch. If he thought that he loved the smell of you before, he was absolutely intoxicated now that he knew what it was like when it floated over the two of you while wrapped in body-warmed sheets.
He wanted to ask you why you were doing all of this, but he didn’t want to know the answer. Not right now. Right now he was going to let himself go back into that place in his head where you lo- cared about him. A place where each night he would crawl into bed with you and, no matter how the day went, you would be there to empty his mind of anything but the two of you. You’d greet him with a kiss or a laugh or an embrace and you would shine with so much joy because he’s next to you again. He’d know what your love felt like, how your body felt under his hands, how your skin felt under his lips. All these daydreams swirling in his head started to make him sick with want, and he needed to know at least one of them. He couldn’t handle all of them staying forever in his mind.
The tiniest increase of pressure from his lips brought your attention to where they rested below your collarbone. The almost kiss was so heartbreakingly shaky and hesitant that you felt your eyes burn with the threat of tears. To reassure him, you dragged your cheek across his temple before turning to leave a deliberate kiss there. Buggy relished the contact, the satisfied sigh you let out afterward, and the gentle weight of your cheek as you snuggled back into him. Your reward came in the form of a grinning cheek pushing into you.
All his humor and posturing certainly caught your attention in the best way and even his explosive temper was something you couldn’t say turned you away. This gentleness, though, this uncertain and wounded place, had you bursting with affection and you were hoping to keep experiencing it. You’d meet it each time with steady affection until it turned into something he embodied with the same surety that he had in his beloved spotlight.
Both of you slipped more sweetly into dreams, curled up together as you were, and with more peace and ease than the years before had allowed. Neither of you would let the years to come be absent of this sweet treasure, either.
Next->
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gottaluvharry · 8 months
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family
carlos sainz jr x pregnant!reader
summary: your son has a few questions about why his little sister is in your belly, and carlos is happy to explain
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Lazy mornings with your little family were your favorite. You smiled to yourself as you woke to the hushed whispers of your husband and your son. As you turn to face the other side of the bed, you’re met with 2 pairs of brown puppy dog eyes and 2 identical smiles.
“Buenos dias, mama!” good morning mom your son screeched, proud of himself for using Spanish. “Buenos dias baby” you say through a smile. He latches on to your neck and you feel Carlos’ hand rubbing patterns on your stomach. “Morning hermosa” beautiful he says going in for a kiss. “How is little girl?” he asks. “Sleeping I think. She must be tired after all the kicking she did last night” you groan, recalling the many hours you were woken due to the relentless kicking in your stomach. “lo lamento, se amable con mami” i’m sorry, be nice to mommy he says leaning to talk to his unborn daughter. You just laugh and shake your head at the pout he has on his face, guiding him up by his chin to give him another kiss.
“Papa,” your little boy starts, breaking you and Carlos apart. “How did baby get in mommy’s belly?” he asks as he puts his hand over Carlos’ on your stomach. “Well hijo” son Carlos starts. “Me and mommy love each other, and we made your sister together because we love each other” he says, hoping it’s enough to settle your sons curiosity. “Like when you and mommy make pancakes together?” he asks, now moving to sit in his fathers lap. “No, not like when we make pancakes” he laughs. “He is just made out of love, baby. When 2 people love each other so much and want a little baby like you, they will make one. That’s all I can tell you” he says, avoiding a heavier subject. “But mommy, did it hurt when baby went in your tummy?” he now turns to you with fear in his eyes over the thought of you hurting. “No buddy it didn’t hurt” you assure him, ruffling his hair; but you don’t miss the smirk Carlos sends your way remembering the night in question. “So why does baby stay in mommy’s belly for so long?” he asks, now turning to look at Carlos for the answer. “That’s just where they grow buddy. Babies need lots of space to grow and the only place there is enough room is in a mommy’s tummy” he responds. “Oh” he hums, taking in all the information he’s learning. “But how does baby come out?” he goes on, his eyes lighting up when he gets another question. “When he is ready to come out me and Mommy will go to the hospital and the doctors will help her come out” Carlos answers. “But does it hurt?” your son asks, once again scared of you being hurt. “Only a little bit” you say, “but it is worth it because then we get to hold your little sister”.
As your son continues asking questions and Carlos continues tracing patterns across your stomach, you can’t help but smile at the little life you’ve created. Who knew one bed could hold so much love on a random morning.
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hope you guys enjoyed this short little blurb:) sorry it’s been so long since i’ve posted, there was a lot going on and then i started school but in honor of Carlos’ birthday AND pole today i figured i’d post something!! might clear my drafts out and post some more in the next week or so<3
also my inbox is open, so request anything if you have any ideas! or if you just want to talk to someone, feel free!
okay last thing, thank you all for the support, it’s so special to me to have people with the same interests reading and liking my work, i want to give you all hugs<333
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beskarandblasters · 29 days
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Red Wine Supernova
No Outbreak!Abby Anderson x F!Reader
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Ways to help Palestine
Main Masterlist | Abby Anderson Masterlist
Author’s note: Inspired by Red Wine Supernova by Chappell Roan!
Summary: You move to a new neighborhood where you run into Abby at the gym. You start seeing more and more of her until the both of you can’t take it anymore— you need to take it to the next level.
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied and wears a skirt, no outbreak AU, drinking, smoking weed, kissing, Abby’s a FLIRT, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), sex toys, edible lube, pet names (baby, pretty girl), no use of y/n
Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs
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A new neighborhood. A new beginning. You aren’t thrilled that your landlord decided to raise the rent but it meant you got to move to a new area, a much cooler area. For example, you’re walking distance to a gym. But now you also have roommates. Whatever. You’re not too old for roommates yet. 
And you had to swap your king-size bed for a twin mattress since your new room is much smaller. 
Whatever. It’s cool. 
You win some, you lose some. 
-
It’s been a week since you’ve settled into your new apartment. You’re walking to the gym, looking to sign up for a new membership. Maybe meet some people in the neighborhood. Fifteen bucks a month? Not bad. 
The worker hands you a little chip to keep on your keychain and you’re on your way. You put your stuff in the locker room and head back out to the machines, opting for a treadmill first. 
Your eyes wander between your phone and the TV’s on the wall. Until your eyes linger on something— someone else. 
Long hair in a braid. No bra. Your type.
She just finished bench pressing. And… she caught you staring. 
She smiles and gives you a small wave. You look away quickly, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. 
After a beat, you look at her again. She’s walking to another machine. She’s hot. And not to mention so fucking buff?? She’s wearing a dark gray muscle tank. Her biceps are peppered with freckles, glistening in a fresh layer of sweat, and pumped up from her workout. 
Before you know it you’re tripping over your own feet, stumbling a little on the treadmill. Guess you were ogling her too hard. 
If she’s a regular fixture at the gym, you’ll be more motivated than ever to work out. 
-
It’s Friday night. You’re waiting in line to get into a club. Coincidentally it’s also just a few blocks away from your new apartment. It’s a little chilly, the nighttime breeze makes goosebumps prick your thighs. You’re wearing a miniskirt and go-go boots, glitter on your collarbones, ready to dance the night away. You’re here with one of your roommates, Sam, who agreed to come with you even though clubbing isn’t really her scene. 
When you get inside, you spot her again. The girl from the gym. She’s wearing a t-shirt this time and the sleeves look like they’re ready to pop from her muscles. Fuck. 
She’s on the dancefloor, laughing and having a good time. You notice the way her nose crinkles when she’s smiling. You hope she notices you. Or maybe you don’t. It’s hard to tell. Your stomach is swirling and your knees feel like jelly. But why? You haven’t even said a word to each other. 
Sam notices you staring and follows your line of sight, giggling to herself when she notices who you’re looking at. 
“You know her?”
“I’ve seen her around before but I couldn’t tell you her name.”
“What do you… What do you think of her?”
“She’s cute!” She scans the room and finds the bathroom across the way, turning and telling you, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Shoot your shot!”
And with that she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd. You look back at her, your little crush, and notice she’s with a few friends– two men and two women. You hang back and make your way to the bar, ordering a vodka soda and trying not to be too obvious about watching her. 
You failed. Because she makes eye contact with you and smirks. One of her friends, a woman, whispers in her ear. And before you know it she’s coming over to you. Shit. Shit. Shit. 
“Hey!” she semi-shouts over the music. 
God, she’s so fucking hot. This is the first time you’re seeing her up close. There are more freckles across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. Her hair is in the same braid as before and you’re wondering if that’s her signature look. 
“Hi!” you semi-shout back. 
“I’m Abby!”
You tell her your name and she says, “Nice to meet you! Are you new to the gym?”
“Yeah! I just moved to the neighborhood!”
“Sounds like you need some friends in the area. Let me introduce you to mine!”
“Okay!”
You down your drink and set it on the bar. She grabs your hand and leads you to her friends on the dance floor. You learn their names are Manny, Owen, Mel, and Nora. They’re all really nice. Owen and Mel seem to be in a relationship. The six of you spend the rest of the night dancing. But you can’t seem to get over the fact that Abby grabbed your hand. 
Sam comes back out from the bathroom and Abby introduces her to the group. You spend the rest of the night dancing and drinking until you close out the club. You stumble out onto the sidewalk and bid goodbye to Abby and her friends. She pulls you in for a hug and butterflies flutter in your stomach. 
Is this real life??
“Catch you at the gym!” she says before letting go and waving goodbye, leaving with her friends down the street.
“You guys are cute together,” Sam says. 
“You think so??”
“So cute I think I’m gonna throw up,” she laughs, starting the walk home. 
“That’s from the drinks!” you shoot back, stumbling home drunk and giddy. 
-
Ever since that fateful night at the club you start running into Abby more and more. The place you see her most often is the gym. But you also see her on the street, at the grocery store, and even at a gas station one time. Each time you guys cross paths you make small talk, talking about the weather, what TV shows you’re watching, what movies are out– the minor stuff. But you’re dying for a chance to get to know her. 
You’d get your wish soon enough.
-
It’s another typical day at the gym. You’re running on the treadmill. Abby’s lifting weights. She hasn’t noticed you yet but you’re too shy to say hi first. 
Eventually, she spots you in the giant mirror lining the perimeter of the gym and swiftly comes over to you. You take your earbuds out and set them by your phone on the treadmill. 
“Wanna come to my place tomorrow night?” she asks, cutting right to the chase. She leans against the treadmill, smiling at you. 
You slow your pace to a walk and say, “Sure!” startled by her forwardness but welcoming it all the same. 
She grabs your phone off the treadmill and opens your contacts app, typing in her phone number and address. Your cheeks heat up at the bold move. 
“Is seven okay?” 
“Fine with me,” you choke out. 
“Okay,” she says, placing your phone back on the treadmill. She throws her hand towel back over her shoulder and says, “See you tomorrow!”
But before she walks away she pants a swift slap on your ass. 
You yelp in surprise followed by a giggle. You swivel your head to follow where she’s walking– to the locker room. And she’s laughing to herself. God, you’re done for. Head over heels and you haven’t even spent any time alone together yet. 
-
Tomorrow night rolls around and you opt for a skirt again. You look over your appearance one more time in the mirror before setting off into the night, punching her address into your phone. She’s only a fifteen-minute walk from your apartment. 
As you walk there the apartment buildings shift into houses and you realize that she most likely lives in a house. Impressive. 
She’s waiting on her front desk for you. She waves and calls your name, a lighter in her hand. 
“Hey! How are you?”
“I’m good! How are you?” God, you’re so fucking nervous.
“A lot better now. I rolled us a joint. Do you smoke?”
“I did a little bit in college.”
She hands you the joint and you put it to her lips, leaning in for her to light it. You inhale, turning your head away so you don’t blow the smoke in her face. But you start coughing and feel a little embarrassed. 
She chuckles a bit and takes the joint from you, telling you, “Take it easy! Especially if it’s been a while.”
She gestures to the bench behind you and you take a seat. She sits beside you, the outside of your thigh touching hers. She takes a hit, exhaling the smoke effortlessly, without coughing. Your palms grow sweaty and your mouth grows dry. She hands the joint back to you and you take a much smaller hit this time. You already feel yourself loosening up and getting more silly. And soon enough, you’re laughing with each other. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s wearing a smirk. She turns towards you and asks, “What made you move to the neighborhood?”
“Rent went up at my old place,” you say, handing the joint back to her. 
“That’s too bad. But at least it brought you here.”
“Yeah,” you say, looking around at her large deck and the front of her house, “How’d you score a place like this?”
“My dad left it to me when he passed.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be!” she takes inhaling. She exhales the smoke and continues, “It happened a while ago.”
“Tell me about yourself. What do you like? Got any hobbies?” you ask, trying to change the subject.
“I like going to the gym,” she shrugs, “But you know that already.”
“Mhm,” you say taking your turn to smoke now. 
“I collect coins.”
“Really?”
“Yeah… Is that surprising?”
“A little. But it’s cute,” you reassure her. 
“I like magic,” she snickers.
“Hang on,” you say, stifling a laugh, “Like doing magic?”
“No! Like watching it.”
She laughs, taking the joint back from you and bringing it to her lips now. You’re really feeling it now and you know that if you stood up you’d be stumbling a bit. 
“I can tell you about magic,” you say, leaning in as she taps off the joint in the ashtray on the table beside the bench. 
“Oh yeah?”
“Mhm, I’ve got a wand and a rabbit.”
“You what??” she laughs again. 
“You know like… like the toys,” you say, realizing your joke didn’t quite land.
She laughs even harder now, head thrown back and her nose doing the cute scrunchy thing again. 
“So it was funny?”
“It was funny,” she affirms, handing the joint back to you. You finish it off and toss it in the ashtray, leaning against the bench and feeling giddy.
“Can I tell you something?” she asks. 
“Shoot.”
“I want to fuck you.”
“You do??” you say excitedly, inching closer towards her. 
“I do,” she says, looking into your eyes. Her eyes are red, pupils blown wide. You can only imagine how you look right now, “But maybe when you’re not blasted.”
“That’s fair,” you say. 
“But that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna kiss you right now,” she says, leaning forward and closing the almost nonexistent gap between you two. She kisses you, soft and intimate. Her lips are plush. She smells like a mixture of whatever perfume she’s wearing and weed. God, this can’t get any more perfect. She reaches a hand up your face, caressing your cheek. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you’re in disbelief this is even happening right now. 
Her tongue brushes against your lips so you part them to let get gain access. Her tongue explores your mouth and pretty soon you’re moaning into her mouth, complete putty in her hands. She tears away from your mouth, kissing down your jawline and onto your neck. 
“You could come over to my place tomorrow night,” you say. 
“Mhm,” she says against your skin.
“I’ve got a California King, you know,”
“Mmm, I bet,” she chuckles.
“Okay, maybe it’s a twin bed… And I have roommates.”
“Baby, I don’t care,” she says, just before sinking her teeth into your neck. 
That elicits a deep moan from you, louder than you were expecting. She keeps going, nipping and biting at the sensitive skin before licking the mark she just made. You place your hand on the back of her neck and the other holds onto her braid. That does something for her because she moans into your neck, holding you tighter. 
She pulls away and says, “Let’s not get carried away for tonight.”
You sigh and agree, leaning against her shoulder. 
“I’m glad we met,” you whisper.
“Me, too,” you whisper back.
-
Once you’ve both sobered up a little bit she walks you home, your hands brushing against each other’s as you walk. She waves goodbye, watching to make sure you get inside safely before leaving. You stumble up the stairs, still feeling a little high and giddy from the evening’s activities. 
Once you’re in your room she texts you and says, “Same time tomorrow?”
You reply, “Sounds good!” before throwing your phone on the charger and flopping onto the bed, staring at the ceiling with a wide smile until you eventually drift off to sleep. 
-
It’s the next day and when you eat breakfast at the kitchen table this morning you learn that both of your roommates will be out tonight. Perfect. 
Sam’s going out with her boyfriend and Bri’s working a double. If all goes right, you’ll get to be as loud as you want… on your twin-sized mattress, of course. 
You spend the day cleaning your apartment and showering, getting nervous the closer it gets to seven. She texts you when she’s on her way and now it’s game time– the moment you’ve been pining for for what feels like forever. 
You wait downstairs for her and her face lights up into a big smile when she finally sees you. She’s wearing her classic dark gray muscle tank and jeans, hair pulled back into her signature braid. She greets you with a hand on your waist and a kiss on your lips. 
“You ready?” she murmurs against your mouth. 
“Born ready,” you respond, kissing her again. 
You lead her up to your apartment and into your bedroom. She takes a look around your room before her eyes land on your bed. 
“This is the famous California King, huh?” she chuckles while picking up a bra you forgot to put away. She tosses it on your chair and turns back towards you. 
“Listen… I used to have one.”
“That’s a shame,” she faux sighs, “But I’ll make you scream regardless of what size bed you have.”
“Oh,” you say, cheeks heating up.
“What are you waiting for? Strip for me, baby.”
You nod eagerly and take off your t-shirt and bra, kicking off your sweatpants. 
“Now where’s this wand and rabbit?” she chuckles.
You walk over to your nightstand and open the drawer, taking out your bag of sex toys and lube. She sits at the foot of your bed, rifling through the bag while you lay down, body shivering with anticipation. 
“Ready for me, baby?” she says, holding the rabbit and a bottle of edible lube in her hand. 
“Mhm.”
She squirts a dollop of lube in her hand and spreads it on your pussy. It’s cold and makes another shiver run down your spine. She turns the toy on and slowly inserts it inside you. A moan hitches in your throat. She kneels in between your thighs, hand still on the toy, and lowering her face above yours. 
“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”
“Yes,” you breathe, already wanting more. She has the toy in the lowest setting. 
“You want more, don’t you?”
“...Yes,” you admit.
“Ask like a good girl.”
“Please Abby… I need a higher setting.”
She grants you wishes, turning up the setting on the toy. Vibrations run through your core and against your clit. You’re in a state of bliss, eyes fluttering shut. But Abby grabs your chin and says, “Eyes on me, pretty girl.”
You maintain eye contact with her, mouth falling open into a soft O. 
“How do you feel?” she asks.
“So fucking good.”
“Are you close?”
“...Almost.”
She turns up the toy to another two settings. And you’re getting closer to the edge now. You’re excited to cum but you also want her to make you cum, whether it’s from her mouth or her fingers– whatever she pleases. 
“Cum for me, baby,” she coos, head cocking to the side. 
You cum hard, walls clenching the toy and your whole body spasming. It’s intense and she keeps the toy flush inside you as you cum. Your moans are loud and incessant. And now you’re especially thankful your roommates are gone for the night. 
“Good girl,” she praises, turning off the toy and bending down to kiss you. 
“That was amazing,” you breathe out.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“Well, you’re far from done.”
Your cheeks heat up and your body shudders. She pulls the toy from you and lowers herself so her face is in between your thighs. She licks one long, slow stripe up your cunt, tasting the mess you just made. She’s gentle at first. She knows you just came. But it doesn’t take long for her to lick her fingers and insert one inside you. 
“So wet for me, baby,” she says, curling her finger slowly against your g-spot.
“Mmm because you take such good for me,” you sigh.
“That’s right,” she says, latching her mouth to your clit. She expertly swirls her tongue around your clit and inserts another finger inside you. You’re sent into a state of euphoric bliss, body tingling with waves of pleasure. 
She moans into your cunt, eyes closed with her lashes fanned out against her face. She’s well on her way to taking your second orgasm from you. Your cunt tenses up in anticipation of release, pulsing around her fingers. She opens her eyes and looks up at you. Your chest rises and falls as you pant. Your hands grip the sheets for purchase. This one feels different but better, all thanks to her. 
“Abby, I’m gonna-” you start but you cut yourself off with a moan. You writhe on the bed, back arching and stars swirling in your vision. Abby wraps her free arm around one of your thighs, keeping you in place. 
You cum for a second time, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. She continues to suck your clit and finger you through your release. Your moans and whimpers are loud, no shame in hiding them. And now you’re starting to feel spent. But even still she’s not done with you. 
She pulls her fingers from you when she’s done, placing them in her mouth and sucking off your wetness. But soon enough her face is back and buried in your cunt. 
She stays there, lazily lapping up your release and pulling a few smaller orgasms out of you here and there. You lose count of how many times you cum tonight but you’re not complaining. 
Eventually, when she’s decided you’re spent she lies beside you, resting on her side and looking into your eyes. 
“You did such a good job for me, coming that many times.” 
You go to respond but instead, you yawn. She sits up and takes off her clothes, lying beside you again and pulling you into her. 
“What about you?” you ask sleepily. 
“You had a big night,” she says, “Besides we can always do more in the morning.”
“Okay,” you respond, snuggling into her, “Goodnight, Abby.”
“Goodnight, baby.” 
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fbfh · 7 months
Text
makey makeover - rodrick x hyperfeminine reader
wc: 1.5k
pairing: rodrick x gn hyperfeminine!reader
warnings: rodrick isn't used to being taken care of but only briefly mentioned at the end, rodrick does not know what hyaluronic acid is
summary: rodrick can never say no to you, but if it means having you straddle his lap while you use all your skincare products on him and listen to music together, he wouldn't want to say no anyway.
song recs: makey makeover - crazy ex girlfriend cast, jesus of suburbia - green day, perfect day - hoku
a/n: I started writing a kids book yesterday?? like I finished the first chapter and outline in one sitting???? it wasn't at all planned but when the muse strikes yk. Anyway I don't think it will take me as long to write so if you wanna read a chapter book about magic and girlhood and unicorns and other mythical creatures with bella sara vibes that's probs gonna be ready reasonably soon lol
tags: @yesv01 @magcon7280 @dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @kiara7777 @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @followingthefanfiction @2220825 @Maggzsworld @xiaos_crustytoenails @ionlymadethisaccountbcihadto @strawberryjen124 @Isaentremundos @hxnbah
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Rodrick likes to think he's a pretty tough guy. Between being born and raised on the rebellious messages of pop punk music, and the nonconforming ideologies of emo and other alt subcultures, Rodrick knows in his bones that he'll never let the man break his spirit. He'll never bow down to someone just because they want him to do something. He's had countless opportunities to stand by these beliefs at school and at home, and he has never - not once - come close to doing anything for someone simply because they want him to. Rodrick has been confident in his ability to never give into other people’s orders, no matter how much they demand of him. 
Until now.
“Pretty please, Roddy…?” You pout your glossy lips at him, blinking up at him and batting your doll like eyelashes, and that’s all it takes to make him fold.
“...I guess, if you really-” He’s cut off by an excited squeal from you, and he’s glad that you’re too distracted to notice him blush. Rodrick has never felt his willpower give in so fast, but as he watches you rush around your room and smile, delighted that he’d agreed, he realizes that he’d do pretty much anything you tell him too. Ben and Chris would call him a pussywhipped simp, but… no, that’s pretty much it. He chuckles a little at the thought, watching the pile of stuff grow. He recognizes nail polish and tweezers, but that’s about it.
“Thank you thank you thank you!” You say, rambling happily as you settle down on your bed across from him. “I’ve been wanting to do self care stuff but I’ve done so many everything showers and self care nights there’s nothing left for me to do on myself. But you…”
You take his face in your manicured hands, moving him around to inspect more closely.
“You are in serious need of a facial.”
Rodrick doesn’t really process what you’re saying, he just loves when you touch his face like that. 
“...Uh, yeah totally.” He mutters absentmindedly, distracted by your sweet smell. After a moment, he processes what you said, and chuckles, leaning back into your silky pink pillows. “Babe, you can do anything to me, anywhere, anytime.” 
You giggle, feeling your face flush a little as you get all your stuff organized. Rodrick runs his hands up and down your waist, fidgeting with your soft fluffy pajama shorts and big loded diper shirt you wear all the time. He sees the little burn marks and worn out hems and realizes it’s the one you stole from him. He smiles softly, loving the way you look in it even more now. His attention is pulled back to you when you push something over his face, brushing his hair back. You adjust the fluffy cat ears on the headband, making sure you have access to his whole face. Rodrick giggles a little, knowing he must look a little out of place wearing a pierce the veil shirt and fluffy kitty cat headband. 
“I don’t think my forehead has been this exposed since like, 4th grade…” he chuckles.
“That’s good, you’ll have less sun damage that way.” You smile, putting some micellar water on a cotton pad. It’s a little cold to the touch, but after a moment, the feeling of you gently wiping over his face and neck ends up being way more relaxing than he had expected it to. You throw it away, and he hears it land in your trash can with a crinkle. 
“I’m gonna mist your face now, okay?” You say, and he nods. You spray rose water on his face, and Rodrick can’t get over how considerate you are to give him a heads up like that. Rodrick smiles a little as he adjusts to the subtle floral smelling facial spray he’s used to smelling on you. He basks in the quietness of your room, opening his eyes as he watches you sitting on his stomach and looking for the next product. You hesitate for a moment. You feel like something’s missing, but you can’t put your finger on it.
“Oh,” you say, reaching for your phone as you remember. You open up Spotify, and put your favorite playlist on shuffle - the one you and Roddy share. It’s full of both your favorite songs, mostly boiling down to early 2000’s pop punk and trashy pop. It’s chaotic but really does suit you both perfectly.  Rodrick smiles suddenly as he instantly recognizes the opening notes of Jesus of Suburbia begin to play. You take out your favorite serum, jasmine and blackberry hydrating jelly, and place a few drops around his face. 
“What’s that one?” Rodrick asks, picking up another bottle. 
“Hyaluronic acid.”
Rodrick looks at the little dropper bottle.
“Does it, like, melt the flesh right off your bones?” 
“No…?” You chuckle, massaging his cheekbones and jawline with your fingertips.
“Then why is it called hydroponic acid?” He asks rhetorically, “Acid is supposed to melt shit.”
You laugh again, and he makes a mental note to sample your laughter for a song at some point in the future. He doesn’t know which one yet, but he knows it will be his best one yet. 
You rub some cooling aloe vera gel into his skin, then take out your rose quartz gua sha stone. You tap your fingertips against his chest, and he looks at you with an amused smile.
“What does that do?”
He watches you work, eyes locked on you. He can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed and peaceful. 
“I’m prepping your lymphatic drainage system.” 
That clarified absolutely nothing for Rodrick, but he trusts you implicitly. You’re so good at so many things, but Christ, you could write a book on all that girly beauty stuff. It’s way more hardcore than people think it is. You know about all these acids and drainage systems and the pink rock thing, and even though he’s impressed, he’s not at all surprised by how good you are at all this stuff.
You begin gently gliding your gua sha over Roddy’s skin, working from his forehead down to his neck and jawline. He stops talking as you work, and it’s like you melt all of the stress out of his body through his face. He could fall asleep with you touching him so gently like this. After a while you rub some more cream into his face, then place something under his eyes that feels like thinly sliced jello.
“What the fuck?” He asks, bringing another laugh out of you. He watches you take two more of the weird jelly things and put them under your own eyes.
“They’re under eye masks.” You answer with a chuckle. “They hydrate your skin, depuff, and get rid of dark circles.”
“Huh…” he hums in response, playing with the patches as they sit on his face. 
Once you’ve used half your arsenal of skincare products on him, you peel off his sheet mask and let him sit up. You hand him a mirror, and as he sits up and stretches a little, kind of wishing you had more to do, he feels like he just woke up from the best sleep of his life. 
“So? What do you think?” You ask excitedly. He can’t help but crack a smile at how cute you are. Rodrick takes the mirror you offer him. When he sees his reflection, he almost doesn’t recognize himself. 
“Oh my god…” he says with a soft smile. He’s glowing. He doesn’t think he’s ever looked this soft and moisturized and… cared for before. He doesn’t even have any crusty eyeliner from yesterday smudged around his eyes. He can never get it off all the way, but one wave of your magic wand, and it’s gone. He laughs again, touching his cheek. He looks up at you in surprise.
“My face is so smooth…” “I know!” You exclaim in delight. “So, do you like facials after all?”
You have a feeling you already know the answer, but Rodrick looks up at you anyway.
“Yeah,” he states, pulling you in for a kiss, his lips soft and exfoliated, topped with your favorite strawberry lip balm. You think Rodrick is right, it does taste better in a kiss. After he pulls away, it takes him a minute for his brain to stop short circuiting. 
“So… uh, are we doing this again next weekend?” 
You laugh at his hopeful tone of voice, how he raises his eyebrows a little. 
“Yeah.” You nod, taking him in for another kiss. You take his hands in yours, looking at the stick and poke tattoo he got of the heart you drew on his hand in chemistry class, his little calluses from drumming. “Next week I can do something about your cuticles.”
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