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#i feel like their colors change slightly too...
golden-cherry · 3 days
Text
deal - cl16 (28/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: Your pillow is comfortable - just like Charles' lap.
Warnings: 18+ (dry humping, mentions of sex), fluff, tiny bit of angst, Lando is a little shit
Word Count: 4.5k
series masterlist
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A/N: since you were all so patient with me - you deserve this. I hope you're sat, because y/n definitely is. feedback is appreciated!
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"Good morning, mon amour," Charles whispers softly in your ear before you feel a faint puff of air against your cheek. Something soft and warm presses gently against your temple. "It's still quite early. You can go back to sleep if you want to." He rests his chin on your shoulder and you feel his chest against your back. "I'd like to go jogging, if that's okay with you."
Sleepy - and confused - you snuggle further into your comfy pillow. It's still dark in the room, but through the window you can already see the horizon changing color and announcing a new day. You yawn tiredly and close your eyes again. "You're waking me up to tell me you're going jogging? Are you crazy? Couldn't you have just written me a note or a text?"
Charles exhales through his nose. "I'm sorry, chérie. There was no other way. I have an appointment with my trainer and I'm already late." He gently puts his hand on your bare hip, where the shirt has ridden up and exposed a sliver of your skin. "All you have to do is let go of my arm and then I'll be gone and you can go back to sleep."
Your pillow moves almost imperceptibly beneath you and you raise your head to examine it, puzzled. You realize that you have been lying on Charles' arm and your hand has found its place on his forearm. You suppress a smile as you lie back down and press your cheek into the soft inside of his upper arm. "Nope. Unfortunately not possible. I'm afraid your arm is too comfortable for me to let you go right now."
Charles's fingers press a little harder into your hip, but his arm stays in place. "I won't be long. I promise." 
Drowsy and not fully conscious, you turn in his arms and lift your leg, only to wrap it around his waist and press yourself against him. The tip of your nose touches his bare chest. "You said yesterday that we would continue to share a bed so that I could sleep better. So you have no choice but to stay here with me." As you absentmindedly kiss his chest and press your hip against yours, you feel warm.
Charles laughs softly, but doesn't disagree with you. Instead, his arms wrap around you a little tighter. The hand that was on your hip a moment ago slides up your spine under your shirt. His fingertips dance over your warm skin until his hand rests gently on the nape of your neck, where it lingers lightly. "As far back as I can remember, I said I'd hold you in my arms if it meant you'd sleep better."
You gently lift your head from his chest so that you can look at him. Charles' eyes are closed, but a slight smile pulls the corners of his mouth upwards. "You do realize that you're digging yourself in deeper, don't you?"
He slowly opens his eyes and looks down at you. Without hesitation, he rolls you onto your back. You feel his weight on top of you as his hand disappears from your neck and rests against your thigh, keeping your leg wrapped around his waist. "How silly. Looks like I've lost now." 
His weight on you, his warm breath on your face and his fingertips disappearing under the hem of your shorts cloud your thoughts. You look at him from under your eyelashes and have to swallow as his gaze darts from your eyes to your mouth and back up again. "How silly."
He opens his mouth slightly and he's so close to you that you can make out the different shades of green in his irises despite the darkness. His beard shades his beautiful face and you want to rub your cheek against it. Or feel the stubble on your thighs. Or - 
Charles leans so far down towards you that the tips of your noses touch. As he licks his lips, you think you can feel his tongue on your mouth. But maybe you're just too tired and imagining it. "I'd love to stay in this bed with you forever," Charles whispers, and as his fingers slide a little higher under your shorts, almost touching the curve of your ass, you involuntarily arch up towards him. Just as you think you can feel the hardness of his abdomen, he pushes himself off the bed with his other hand and pulls away. "But I really need to go jogging." A brief moment later, he stands in front of the bed and scratches the back of his neck. "I thought I might go grocery shopping afterwards. Just text me if you think of anything else you might need." 
Distracted by the warmth in your lower belly, you stare at him as he slips into the sports shorts you were wearing yesterday morning. His smell clings to you and you can't think straight as he sits down on the edge of the bed to pull white tennis socks over his feet. You push the covers off you and crawl across the bed to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Your hands rest on his warm chest. "You're mean, Charles." You brush a kiss on the soft skin under his ear and can feel his heart skip a beat.
He pauses in his movement. "You haven't called me that in days." He tilts his head a little so he can look at you. 
Puzzled, you return his gaze. "What do you mean? I always call you Charles."
Slowly, his fingers wrap around your wrists so that he can wriggle out of your embrace. But only so that his arm can wrap around your waist and he can pull you onto his lap. As you sit astride his thighs, he cups your chin with his thumb and forefinger so you have no choice but to look at him. 
He shakes his head slightly. "You called me Charles. English pronunciation. You've been calling me Charles since we had dinner with the others the other night."
You raise an eyebrow and squirm on his legs under his unyielding gaze. "And what did I call you now?"
"Sharl. French pronunciation." A glint sparkles in his eyes. 
"Is that good? Or bad?" you ask unknowingly and innocently, running your fingers through the short hair on the back of his neck. 
"What do you think?" His voice is no more than a whisper as his other arm wraps around your back and pulls you completely onto his lap so that you can barely move. Once again, his fingers slip just below the hem of your pajama shorts, fingertips almost digging into your flesh as he presses your crotch against his noticeable bulge. So hard that you might end up with bruises on your hips. But you don't care. You gasp in response. "Do I like this or not?"
The warmth that was previously spread throughout your body moves south, and you feel your arousal pooling in your shorts. The word friendship flashes faintly in your mind, but as Charles gently but firmly moves you over his hard-on and a low moan escapes his throat, you can't help but block it out completely. 
"Charles," you almost whine as you rock your hips back and forth without a thought and the tip of his brief-clad cock nudges against your clit. Electricity flashes through your veins and your skin burns where Charles touches you and you close your eyes, flushed with pleasure. 
"Nuh-uh." Charles's hand moves from your chin to the column of your throat and rests just at the base of your neck. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is deep and smoky as he makes you look into his eyes. Through half-opened eyes and with his mouth open, he grinds you over his boner, his breath stumbling and warming your face as you can do nothing but surrender to the sensation. 
Never in your life have you desired someone as much as Charles. Charles, exhaling as if relieved that he can release some tension, while your fingers dig into his shoulder blades to make sure he doesn't stop. The hem of your pyjamas and his boxer shorts rub so deliciously against your bundle of nerves and you moan shamelessly as the gorgeous man beneath you bites his lower lip, wishing it was yours he was nibbling on. 
"Charles, please," you beg, even though you don't know what for. You want his fingers on your throat, his mouth on yours. You want to feel how soft his lips are as he slides his cock home until you fall apart on him. You want to hear him say how good you feel, how much he desires you and that he lo-
"Fuck," Charles snaps you out of your thoughts, and before you can realize it, he releases his arm from your body and leans to the side, where his phone is on the edge of the bed, ringing. 
When you see the panic in his eyes, you quickly slide off his lap and cover yourself with the blanket again. All of a sudden you feel vulnerable and naked, even though you're still wearing the shirt and shorts. You interlace your fingers in your lap. 
"I'm sorry, Andrea." Charles tucks his cell phone between his ear and shoulder as he slips on the turquoise Puma shirt you were wearing yesterday morning. He lifts the hem once and smells it, and for a brief moment his eyes flicker to you before he hurries out of the room, leaving you alone in the bedroom. You hear him continuing to talk in the hallway.
Startled and a little repulsed, you sit on the bed. How did you let it get this far? Charles is your best friend - a fact you told Joris and which was later confirmed to you in person by your roommate. 
So why did you just fall over each other like teenagers who can't keep their hands off each other when no one is looking? Why did you allow yourselves to dry hump each other when you are nothing more than friends? Why did everything Charles did and said turn you on so much that the inside of your thighs are sticky with your arousal? And why did it feel so damn right?
You run your hand through your tousled hair. You've never felt anything like you have in the last few minutes. You've never desired someone as much as the man whose touch made you turn to putty in his hands. As if your brain had been switched off, you gave yourself to him without thinking about what the consequences might be. 
What would happen now? Would Charles still talk to you? Would you talk about it? Would it happen again? 
Before you can think about it any more, Charles enters the bedroom again. His feet are now in sneakers and he has put on a jacket over his shirt. When he sees you sitting at the head of the bed, the comforter thrown over you and with big, worried eyes, his gaze softens. He crosses the room in three steps and sits on the edge of the bed with you before reaching for yours with one hand and intertwining your fingers. 
"We're okay, aren't we?" he asks gently, lifting your chin with his free hand as you try to avoid his gaze. When you look at him, the sparkle from a moment ago is still there. "I - I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let it get this far. We're friends and the last thing I want is to lose you over this." He almost stumbles over his words when you don't say anything back. "We're still friends, aren't we?" You can see tears gathering on the line of his eyelashes. 
You are so relieved that you want to hug him. You smile at him. "Of course we're friends, Charles. Best friends," you assure him, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. "There's nothing that could change that."
The man in front of you blinks away the tears and returns your smile before squeezing your hand twice. "I really have to go now. Like I said, if you need anything from the supermarket, please text me. Then I can pick it up for you." He releases his hand from yours and stands up from the bed. "See you later." He leans forward a tiny bit and you can practically see the gears in his brain turning until he merely smiles at you and then disappears. As the apartment door slams shut behind him, you exhale. 
Everything's fine between you, you tell yourself as you unplug your phone from the charger and glance at the clock. 9:30 am. You could go back to bed and sleep, but as you lay your head on the pillow, the smell of last night's smoke creeps into your nose. The whole bed smells like a campfire, and your skin and hair smell like you've been wallowing in ashes, so you decide to wash the sheets and jump in the shower. 
The washing machine makes a gentle whirring sound as you switch it on and then head to the fridge to prepare yourself a little breakfast. However, when you realize that there is nothing in the fridge that would be suitable, you hang your head in resignation. Apparently, the ingredients Charles used for the pancakes yesterday were the very last leftovers, so the fridge is empty apart from a pickle jar and a few bottles of water. 
Without further ado, you shoot Charles a text to ask him to bring something for breakfast before you gather your bathroom utensils from your suitcase in the bedroom, undress in the bathroom and set the water in the shower to the right temperature. Since you have some time before Charles returns from his jog and the supermarket, you take all the time in the world. You shampoo your hair and rinse it thoroughly before leaving a generous amount of conditioner in your hair. Meanwhile, you exfoliate your body, shave carefully - and actually manage not to cut your knuckles. The lavender and vanilla shower gel soothes your frayed nerves, while you keep telling yourself that everything is fine between you and Charles, like you talked about. 
You banish the feeling that his every touch felt good and right to the back of your mind and as you turn off the water and wrap yourself in a soft towel, it's almost as if nothing ever happened between you. 
You focus on the fact that you have to look good today, because you are invited to Charles' mother's for dinner later, so you spend a lot of time taming your hair and picking out a nice outfit. You decide on a pair of dark jeans and a light blouse and button up the last button as your cell phone beeps on the kitchen island. 
Charles: No problem. I think I'll be home in an hour. It'll be too late for a proper breakfast then, but how about some fruit and yogurt?
And indeed. It's now just after 12 o'clock and the washing machine seems to be doing its last spin cycle, because its humming gets louder before it goes quiet and only beeps a few times. You quickly put the wet bed sheets in the dryer before answering Charles.
You: You're the best. See you soon.
While you wait for your roommate to come home, you rummage through the things Kika picked out yesterday and scatter them around the apartment. You put the fake plants on the windowsill in your room and place a vase on the worktop in the kitchen. Then grab some picture frames and stand in the hallway to find out which places on the wall are suitable for which frame. Charles is sure to have enough beautiful photos from all over the world to decorate your home, because unfortunately you don't yet have any pictures together that you could hang on the wall. But that's okay. After all, you've only been friends for a few days. 
When the front door opens a short time later, two men are standing opposite you, one of whom - thank God - is Charles. When he sees you, a smile spreads across his face. 
"We've done some shopping," he explains, lifting the bags he's holding in his hands. Then he looks at the man next to him. "This is Andrea, by the way, my personal trainer and close friend." He walks towards you and briefly looks you up and down. "You look good," he says casually as he walks past you and glances over his shoulder. "Come on, Andrea. The stuff needs to go in the fridge. 
"Don't stress me out like that," the man in front of you replies, rolling his eyes in an annoyed manner. "I'm Andrea, nice to meet you." He places one of his bags on the floor before holding out his hand to you. 
You introduce yourself to him too and shake his hand. " Likewise. I wasn't expecting you to bring half the supermarket with you," you joke, reaching for the bag he's put down before you both head towards the kitchen. 
"Me neither," Andrea replies, shrugging her shoulders. "Charles insisted because he didn't want you to want for anything. Now that you live here too."
"Andrea," Charles warns his friend as he puts the milk and eggs in the fridge. 
"Don't play pretend," he defends himself and puts his bag down on the worktop. "I'm just repeating what you said." He takes your plastic bag from you and puts it on the worktop too. "I'll leave you two alone then. After all, you've got a lot to do today." He turns in your direction and smiles at you before planting a kiss on your cheek left and right. "It was nice meeting you, but I'm afraid I have to go. But I'm sure we'll be seeing more of each other."
"I guess so."
He nods briefly, turning to your roommate. "And you let me know about the trip. Then I can arrange everything."
Charles, who is putting food in the fridge with a concentration as if he were taking part in a Tetris competition, waves his hand once in the direction of his trainer. "I will. Ciao!"
Andrea leaves your apartment as quickly as he had arrived, and as the door slams shut behind him, you turn to your friend. "A trip? Where are you off to?"
"I have to go through a training camp to prepare for next season. But I'll tell you about that later." After he's put everything away neatly, he closes the fridge and turns in your direction. "I've just spoken to my mother on the phone. Dinner will be around seven, but we can come over before that, before my brothers show up, if you don't mind." He grabs a glass from the cupboard and pours himself some water before taking a big gulp. "So I'd just jump in the shower and get ready. And then we can go as soon as you're ready."
You smile at him. "All right. Do you still want to eat something small? Then I could cut up some fruit and prepare some yoghurt if you like," you offer. 
He nods thankfully to you before pulling his shirt over his back and off his upper body in one fluid motion. The workout has made his muscles look even more defined than usual. Not that you waste much time staring at his naked torso. 
"That would be nice. I'll just jump in the shower," he says before disappearing into the bathroom. As he turns on the shower, you hear the water hitting the floor. 
You're a little surprised that your little session doesn't seem to be having any effect. The worries you had that the atmosphere between you might now be strained fizzle out and the only thing that remains is the bitter aftertaste that Charles doesn't seem to be bothered by the fact that you were dry humping as friends and there was a possibility that your friendship had come to an end. 
Does it really not affect him that you were both playing with fire a few hours ago? Or is he just good at covering it up and acting as if nothing had happened?
But when you remember how upset he was sitting next to you on the bed afterwards, with tears in his eyes for fear of losing you as a friend, the negative thoughts disappear from your mind. He probably wants to put the whole thing behind him because it would really bother him if you were no longer friends. 
And since you feel the same way, you cut up some fruit without giving it a second thought until your cell phone, which is lying on the kitchen island in front of you, vibrates. An incoming Facetime call from - Lando? 
Why is he calling you? And especially on Facetime? Has something happened to him? Does he need help?
You quickly put the knife aside and wipe your hands on a kitchen towel before answering the call. When the British man's face appears on your screen, you breathe a sigh of relief. He's apparently lying on the couch at home, the hood of his hoodie pulled up over his curls and a broad grin adorning his face. 
"Hi, Lando," you greet him and lean your phone against the vase so that you can continue preparing the fruit. "What can I do for you?"
"Is Charles with you?" he asks as you turn around and take two bowls from the cupboard behind you to divide the fruit halfway between them. 
"He's in the shower," you reply, tilting your head. " Why? Did something happen?"
"No, everything's fine," he says and smiles. "I was just trying to reach him on his cell phone. But when he is taking a shower, it's obvious that he won't answer." 
"'Who's not answering?" you hear Charles say as he leaves the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Single drops of water snake across his chest and down the ridges of his abs before disappearing into the fabric of the towel, which hangs quite low on his hips. You have to swallow briefly and just point at your cell phone. When Charles comes into Lando's field of vision, he nods briefly. "Sorry, I was in the shower. Have you tried to call me?"
Lando, blinking silently at the camera, nods. "Uh, yeah. I wanted to invite you both to a party. After Christmas." He struggles to suppress a smile, and even though the screen is so small, you can see his gaze jump from Charles to you. "My friend Martin is coming here to DJ at a club. If you're up for it, you're both welcome to come."
Charles, who is standing to the side behind you, rests his chin on your shoulder. After this morning, you didn't expect to find Charles back in your personal space so quickly. Whether he realizes you're holding your breath, you don't know. "I don't see what's wrong with that, do you?" The question is directed at you. As you shake your head weakly, your roommate smiles at the camera and puts his hand on your hip. "Then we're definitely in." Suddenly, you feel Charles' lips on your temple as he presses a gentle kiss to your skin. "I'm just going to get ready." With that, he disappears from Lando's sight and, as he enters your bedroom, from yours too.
The way Lando's eyes widen briefly doesn't escape you. "Great. Then I'll put you on the guest list and send you the details." As your gaze shifts from your room back to the Brit, Lando looks back at you with a grin that almost reaches his ears. 
"Lando," you warn him in the same tone Charles just used with Andrea. "Leave it alone."
"I didn't say anything," he defends himself, but the grin doesn't disappear from his face. You'd love to wipe it off his cheek. "So, are you two - ?"
You roll your eyes. "We're friends, Lando. Nothing more, nothing less," you explain to him, but you seem to be falling on deaf ears, because the Brit doesn't seem to believe a word you're saying. 
"Friends with benefits? Or why did Charles just behave like that?"
"What do you mean, like that?" you ask him, tilting your head in confusion. To keep your hands busy, you fill the bowls of fruit with yogurt and add some sweetener before stirring everything. 
"So possessive. So jealous," he explains, as if it's no big deal. Which it certainly wouldn't have been if it hadn't been for this morning's action. 
"You don't know what you're talking about," you retort snappishly, your mouth forming a thin line. "Sorry, that's not what I meant."
"It's all cool. But if you get married, I'll be the guest of honor as matchmaker," he replies, before holding his phone close to his face and grinning broadly at the camera. "And then I'll give a speech about how stupid you both were at the beginning because you didn't want to admit that you were meant to be together."
When you hear Charles' footsteps in the hallway, you quickly reach for your cell phone. "Lando."
"I'm just saying, friends don't look at each other the way you look at him. And that friends don't act as possessive as he does." He raises his free hand, puts his thumb and forefinger together before pulling it over his mouth and pretending to seal his lips with it. "I'm not saying anything more about it."
"Who says no more to what?" Charles asks as he enters the kitchen. 
"Nobody to anything anymore. Bye, Lando," you quickly say goodbye and end the Facetime call, knowing full well that you're sure to get a few more messages from the Brit lovingly mocking you. 
"Oh-kay." Charles sits down opposite you at the kitchen islands and grabs one of the yogurt bowls. You watch him as he shoves spoonful after spoonful into his mouth. "Everything all right?"
"Everything's fine," you reply with a sugary smile and start spooning up your yoghurt too. "I'm just nervous about meeting your mom. I hope she'll like me," you try to change the subject. 
"She definitely will," your flatmate tries to reassure you. "Just be yourself and then she'll love you. And so will my brothers." He reaches across the worktop for your hand and squeezes it twice. "Loving you is easier than you might think."
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nereidprinc3ss · 10 hours
Note
Happy 2k babe! I have a request for fluffy Spencer smut based on the song "touch tank" by Quinnie! (the song gives me like golden retriever vibes so maybe you could put something about reader playing with his hair in there? I don't know I'm having later seasons fluffy hair Spencer brainrot and I never make requests, obviously feel free to ignore or change things if this is too specific! <3)
hi angel babe!!! i love this song!! and i too am always having later seasons fluffy haired spencer brainrot!! i wrote this super quick, please let me know if its any good, ILY!!! xo
warnings/tags: fem!reader, softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering, oral f receiving, sorta kinda overstimulation, implicit consent, praise n stuff, not proofread, written at 9 pm on a tuesday night, so fluffy
18+ (smut)
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Spencer is clearly almost asleep on the couch next to you. That’s one of many things you find endlessly fascinating and charming about him—his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time within minutes. 
So you probably shouldn’t speak. But the stakes are low; it’s barely 7:30 in the evening. 
“Spence?” You whisper. His eyes don’t open, but his thumb goes back to making little passes where it’s settled over your hip. 
“Hm?”
“Don’t fall asleep.”
He smiles, slight but beautiful—yet his eyes remain stubbornly closed. 
“Why not?” 
“’Cause I want you to be awake.” 
“Then you can’t keep playing with my hair like that.”
You pout as if he can see you.
“But I like playing with your hair.”
Spencer hums, and you can tell you’re losing him again as you continue carding your hand through stupidly soft locks. 
“One or the other. You can’t have both.”
“I love you both, though,” you complain. “I don’t know who to pick.”
The grin has been steadily fading from his relaxed face but it flickers back to life for a moment. 
“I’m getting a haircut tomorrow. That should make it easier for you.”
“What?”
It’s the genuine horror in your voice that finally gets him to open his eyes. A little line appears between his brows as he regards you with bleary eyes. 
“What what?”
“You didn’t consult me!”
The momentarily tensed muscles in his face relax and he rolls his eyes affectionately before craning his neck to kiss your forehead. 
“I’m not in the habit of requesting your approval before I make choices like that.”
“Spencer, please don’t cut your hair,” you beg, genuinely distraught. “You can’t. It’s so so pretty.”
“It’s too long, baby. I don’t want to grow it out again.”
“You don’t have to grow it out! Just don’t get it any shorter! It’s perfect how it is,” you insist. Spencer narrows his eyes as you plead with him. But you stand firm in your position. His hair is sort of shaggy, sure—too long to be considered cropped and too short to be considered long. It’s like a beautiful curly halo and it’s perfect playing-with length. “I’m serious. I’m asking you to not cut it short, please. This is what I want for my birthday.”
“Your birthday’s not even—”
“Pretty please with a cherry on top? I love your hair so much and I love you more but I just really don’t want you to cut it, please—”
He’s laughing when he silences you with a soft kiss, and you melt, sighing against him as his hand slides up and down the back of your thigh. When he knows you’ve been sufficiently soothed, he pulls away, still smiling. 
“Oh my god, baby—are you about to cry?”
“Stop!” you whine, burying your face into a throw pillow and screwing your eyes shut. Your nose crinkles up with embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and though he’s no longer outright laughing, traces of humor still color his lowered voice as he kisses all over the side of your face.  “I had no idea you felt that way. I didn’t realize I’d be causing you so much emotional distress if I cut my hair.”
You sniffle away any unfortunate emotional reactions and turn your head back to him. He’s ducked down slightly, still peppering kisses over your jaw and neck, and you lace your fingers through the contentious hair. 
“Obviously I’m not the boss of you. If it makes you uncomfortable I want you to cut it. But I really like it how it is.”
He hums against your throat and the vibrations send a chill down your spine. You arch against him unconsciously. 
“You are definitely the boss of me. I don’t know anyone else who I like receiving orders from so much.”
“Hotch,” you whisper, and you can feel Spencer’s teeth against your neck as he smiles and presses another loving kiss to the sensitive spot above your collarbone. 
“Not the kind of orders I was talking about. And I don’t particularly care what Hotch thinks of my hair, honey.” He kisses tenderly until he earns a tiny whimper from you—which sates him enough to raise his head until you’re eye-level again. His hand, however, has other plans—it creeps south, slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants. “What if we compromise? I just get it trimmed so it doesn’t keep getting in my eyes when I have a loaded gun in my hands, yeah?” You nod dutifully, looping your arms around his neck as his fingers dip beneath your underwear. When you don’t reply verbally, he prompts meaningfully, “okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper, voice small as you look into his searching eyes. 
For a few moments, when he finally pushes his fingers against your clit and begins rubbing with slow, gentle strokes, his eyes are everywhere on your face—then they focus back on your eyes, watching with that habitually intense interest permeated with a sense of devotion—like he wants to see exactly what pleasure looks like reflected in your irises. Like he could see through them to your brain and watch your dopamine transmitters working overtime. A soft moan escapes through parted lips, which seems to spur Spencer on. He drags more arousal over your aching bud and openly chuckles at your airy sigh of pleasure, unable to resist from giving you a short kiss. 
“Feels good?”
“Mhm,” you breathe. 
“Mhm,” he agrees, kissing you again just as quickly before pulling back to study your face once more. “Pretty girl.”
“You’re pretty,” you insist, with what little brain power is available to you as you rake one hand through his hair. He smiles, eyes pinging between your own and your mouth like he can’t decide where to look.  
“I’m pretty?” he asks, speaking over another quiet, yet unabashed moan. You nod, hips bucking slightly off the couch cushion as he speed up the motion of his hand. The grin widens and his soft amber eyes soften further. “You’re so sweet.”
You give him a moan he can’t ignore and he takes it as a signal to slip two fingers into you, sighing in what sounds like relief just as your breath catches. The way he seems to feel your pleasure will never get less erotic. Once he’d explained it—something to do with mirror neurons—but whatever the reason, watching the way his arousal rises with yours is exhilarating. 
A squeaking sound is expelled from your lungs and your whole body tenses, propelling you maybe an inch upward involuntarily. 
His lips part the same as yours—but only allowing another dry laugh to pass between them. 
“Relax. I’ll come to you.”
You hum as he leans down and kisses you back into the pillow—a proper kiss, this time, lips parted and the tip of his tongue grazing yours—all the while, still pumping his fingers much deeper than your own could ever manage. Each moan and gasp he allows you to release freely, only barely parting from your lips every few seconds to let you breathe and make your noises. When his fingers begin pumping faster, and you can hear it, you whine, knees clamping shut as the small of your back jumps away from the couch. 
“Fuck,” you pant against his lips. 
“Need you to keep your legs open, baby,” Spencer reminds you gently, giving you a peck and a moment to relax as his hand stills. 
“I don’t think I can,” you admit shyly, still wriggling. “Um, can you—can you use your mouth, please?”
Your boyfriend chuckles again and your cheeks get warmer. Momentarily you allow yourself to be grateful that his face is pressed too close to your own for him to be really be looking at you. 
“You still have to keep your legs apart for that.”
“I know. It’s easier when—when you’re not inside.”
The smile in Spencer’s voice when he replies gives you butterflies as if he’s not knuckle deep in you already. 
“I bet you think that’s true.”
“It is!” you whine. 
“You’ve never had your thighs wrapped around your head so tightly your ears pop, have you?”
“That did not happen.”
“Only once,” Spencer reassures you. “And I happen to like your thighs. So no harm done. Go lie down on the bed.”
You let out a small chirp as he withdraws his fingers from you and your waistband snaps back into place against your skin. 
“Where are you going?” you ask suspiciously, once you’re on semi-steady feet and watching him rise from the couch too. At once he kisses your forehead and grabs your ass—the contrast is dizzying. 
“To wash my hands,” he says, popping the fingers that were just in you into his mouth like a preliminary clean up. “Go,” he urges, jutting his chin in the direction of the bedroom door. You hang from him just a second longer, biting back a smile, before tearing yourself away and only half-skipping to the bedroom. 
Only a moment or two after you flop joyfully down on the mattress, he appears in the doorway again, immediately noticing the way you’re practically vibrating with excitement and unable to hide your grin as he approaches. It seems the smile is contagious—he’s sporting one of his own as he climbs over you. 
“You’re adorable,” he murmurs toothily, kissing you once and then speaking again, “I love you so much.”
It’s exactly the kind of thing that makes you feel all soft and shy and giddy and speechless—even as he gives you one more parting kiss and then is sitting up to slide your pants off. 
Maybe even especially then. 
The sweetness dissipates only a little, still hanging thick in the air as you kick your bottoms off, and he leans back down, pushing your shirt over your chest and pressing kisses to your ribs and down your tummy. He doesn’t waste much time, only taking one brief detour to suck a mark and sink his teeth into your inner thigh until your breath catches loud enough to appease him. Then it’s all easy—his cool fingertips trailing up and down the backs of your thighs as he kisses all over and around your core. Intimacy with Spencer is definitely a spectrum, and while you can always feel the depth of his love for you in every touch, right now it’s so tangible, so potent you can feel it in your teeth. 
You coo when one of the kisses finally sticks, lacing your fingers through the hair you love so much and pushing it out of the way as he laps gently at you. He looks as beautiful as always in the golden hour light as it filters through the window, but you’ve always thought he’s just that extra bit prettier when he’s eating you out. 
Visually you’re entranced—it’s only when he begins easing you into the deep end with the flicking of his tongue that your brow knits and you gasp. 
“Spencer,” you whisper, and it melds into a louder gasp. “Baby.”
He hums into you, reaching around your thigh to grab one of your wrists. You allow him to drag your hand from his hair and intertwine your fingers, his hand on top of yours, pressing them against your stomach where he sweeps his thumb back and forth over your knuckles.
The display of tenderness only makes you ache deeper in your belly, singing in airy, open-mouthed praise for him with a moan you know he would describe as pretty. Spencer says things like that often. He always talks about you like you’re an art form. When it comes to talking about touching you, he’s especially poetic. 
When he begins to suckle, your moans get a little more explicit. 
But he likes those ones just fine, too.
“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, though it’s a little choked, as you writhe just slightly against him. “That’s so good—oh my god.”
The hand that’s not holding yours rapidly changes position—pressing your thigh to the side with his elbow while he slips his fingers inside you once more. 
At that, you really do choke, your body attempting to sit bolt upright but set off balance by the way your hips buck. You moan, loud, lilting, head still lifted to watch as he begins fucking you with his fingers. Your fingers brush through his hair several times before you’re anchoring your hand in it and falling back. 
“Wh—please, baby, I can’t—”
But you can, and you both know it. You always do this; your body sends you signs that you’re over-indulging and fights to escape the stimuli and Spencer has learned to recognize your false flags for what they are. His hand speeds up along with his tongue and you cry out again, fighting to keep your legs open and your hips on the bed as every nerve in your body seems to light up neon. 
“Oh—Spencer I’m gonna come,” you warn, all high pitched and synthesized into one word. He simply hums a long mhm in acknowledgment, and decides at that moment to brush his fingers over that spot inside of you which proves to be exactly the right button to trigger your detonation. 
You can’t help the way you twist then as your orgasm washes you out—jaw dropped as your final keen starts loud, sputters into silence, and melts into an exhausted whine as your hips wind down. Spencer (wisely) adjusts his position, letting go of your hand only so he can sit up as your thighs clamp shut hard. But he’s still pumping his fingers as you writhe, his own mouth hanging open and groaning as you mewl. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, ready to beg him to stop—but as usual, he knows your body better than you do. An orgasm that you had thought was on its way out gets a second life and you can’t even breathe as you feel it so deep within you, pinpointed to one spot of focus, that you have to curl in on yourself, keeling onto your side because it’s simply too intense. 
Either your vision goes black or your eyes are simply closed—regardless, time ceases for an unquantifiable moment, and you come to with Spencer rubbing your back and murmuring your name. 
“What did I do to you?” he laughs, not unkindly.  
Your back arches as mild aftershocks trickle through your system. 
“I don’t know,” you slur. “Dark magic.”
He allows himself to be pulled on top of you once more, and you tangle your hands in his hair again. 
“But you’re okay?” he murmurs, using his dry hand to play with your hair and brush over your cheek. 
“Mhm,” you nod, eyes fluttering shut once more. Then you laugh, sudden and unexpected to both of you. “I think. That was intense. I felt that one in my soul.”
You smile as he exhales a laugh against your skin. 
“Okay,” Spencer sighs after you catch your breath, bumping his nose against yours before sitting up—this time, not allowing you to pull him back down. “I need to take a shower. You should come with me.”
“Five more minutes,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows. 
“But this is your last chance to wash my hair before it’s a whole inch shorter tomorrow.”
“Oh,” you laugh, but it turns deadly serious very quickly. “Spencer, I am not letting you cut a whole inch off your hair. I need that inch.”
“For what?” He snorts. 
You smile big, glad he didn’t see your joke coming for once. 
“Handles! Duh!”
312 notes · View notes
avtrxxx · 3 days
Text
Did you?
Neteyam (24) x female human reader (20)
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Warnings: enemies to lovers, mafia au, forced marriage, size difference
Neteyam was a powerful mafia prince, feared by many in the criminal underworld. He was known for his harsh and ruthless tactics, always getting what he wanted through violence and intimidation. But what he didn't expect was to have you as his soon-to-be-wife. You are the mafia princess of the human mafia. And as to make a bond, both mafias decided to marry Neteyam, the oldest mafia prince and you, the youngest princess.
"This tawtute is gonna be my maye?" Neteyam tilts his head, looking down at you, his voice filled with amusement. He's gonna give you a hard time.
"Can you stop calling me that?" You asked back.
"Tawtute? What's wrong with that? It is what you are after all" Neteyam teased, still amused by your reaction.
"Yes, but I don't like it."
"Well then, I'll call you my little human" Neteyam smirked, he was enjoying you reaction way too much. "You gotta admit, it suits you"
You sighed through your nose, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Look, I'm not little, you're a freak of nature. Secondly, it doesn't suit me."
"Awww, are you mad because I'm taller than you?" Neteyam mocked, standing straight, he was more than three heads taller than you. "You are small, I can wrap my hands around your waist so easy. If that's not little then what is"
"Your dick."
"What did you say?" Neteyam's voice remained smug as ever, but now his tail was whipping aggressively behind him. He was fuming, though he'd never show it.
"I said you have a small dick. Why? Did I tell some truth?" It was your turn to smirk.
"I'd like to test that theory" Neteyam said, he was so hot-headed, he was now in your face. His voice had become harsher and more intimidating, as he got closer to the girl. He was so close you could smell his breath and see his sharp fangs.
With one arm, Neteyam picked you up like a child and pushed you against the wall, his body looming over hers. He was a big man, with muscles on each part of his body, a wide chest, broad shoulders and huge biceps that were almost twice the size of your waist. His face was close enough to you to make you shiver.
Your face flushed with a red color, your heart beat quickened. The way he was showing his dominance was so hot.
He could feel your body trembling, he was amused and delighted by how intimidated you seemed, this small human woman. With one hand, he grabbed your chin, tilting your face up so he could look into your eyes.
But you didn't. Your gaze was on the floor.
"Why are you avoiding eye contact? Am I that frighteningly handsome to you?" Neteyam said in a mocking voice. "Or are you scared? Do you just see me as this big monster? Are my muscles too intimidating, my big body perhaps overwhelming?" he looked down and chuckled, his voice returning to it's usual sarcasm.
You rolled your eyes at him.
"I thought so. Humans are so weak and vulnerable, the moment they see someone who's physically stronger than them. They lose all hope, they become scared babies. Pathetic" He lowered his hand from your face and let you down.
For the rest of the day, you avoided him. But little did you know you're sleeping with him from now on.
At night when you were back at your room, you could see a shadow standing at the door. Neteyam was standing with his arms crossed, a smug grin on his face as he was watching you without you knowing. The door was slightly open, so he was able to look in.
You changed your clothes into pijamas and let yourseld fall on the bed.
Neteyam could see every movement you made from where he was standing. He was pleased to see that you were finally done with your day and going to bed. He could hear a soft yawn before you settled into bed, he was gonna wait a bit longer before making his move.
A few more minutes had passed, the moonlight was making its way to the room where this beautiful, tiny human lay. Neteyam finally made his move, he opened the door slowly, shutting it after he had stepped in, making absolutely no noise.
He could see you sleeping soundly on the bed. He closed the distance between you quickly, he could feel the heat of your body, as he stood above you, over your vulnerable and weak form.
He then slid under the covers of the bed and placed his body next to yours, his warm body almost suffocating yours. He laid there still for a moment, just enjoying the moment of them being this close to each other.
Then he wrapped his arms tightly around you, bringing your body so close to his. He was so much larger than yours, his muscles completely overpowering you, his arm wrapped around you and the other one going across your body, trapping you in his embrace.
"what?" You mumbled, half asleep. You rubbed your eyes, looking around you.
"Wake up, little human" he mumbled out. He squeezed you tighter, his muscles now pressing you body down and making it a bit harder to breath. You gasped, the air getting kicked out of your lungs.
"You think I'm just gonna let you sleep in peace? Not a chance" He said, his deep and rough voice filled with dominance. He was enjoying every moment of his power over the little human, who he saw as no threat.
"Lose it a bit.." you struggled to breathe, lightly but repeatedly tapping his bicep.
"Oh you wanna tap me? You wanna fight me off of you? Sorry, little human, that's not happening" Neteyam squeezed you tighter and you could feel his other bicep flex as he flexed his whole muscle. He laughed as he felt you tapping. You were so weak in his eyes, and he liked it.
You tried pushing him away, pushing on him with all your strength but he wouldn't bulge. He was far stronger.
"You're so weak. I love it. You have no hope in fighting me. You really are just a small little human. You're powerless against a strong man" He laughed, tightening his grip around you. It was becoming extremely difficult for you to breathe, especially with his hot body pressed against yours.
Seeing there's no other way to escape this uncomfortable situation, you bit him, sinking your teeth into his thick skin.
Neteyam let out a muffled growl from the sudden pain. He was surprised you could hurt him, but he didn't mind it. It was actually kinda hot. He squeezed you tighter, he now wanted to see this little human fight back even harder. He liked a challenge.
You let go of his skin when you saw it didn't really have an effect on him. You wiggled around, trying to make yourself more room. In return, Neteyam tightened his grip on you, his muscles bulging with power. "Neteyam, I have a fucking dagger with me. Don't make me use it on you." you threatened him, trying to make him feel somehow vulnerable.
"You're gonna stab me? You really are a little savage. A very cute little savage" Neteyam squeezed you tighter, enjoying the thrill of this fight. "I'd love to see you try it"
When you wanted to lower your hand in your pocket and grab it, Neteyam's hand was already close to it. He lunged his hand inside and took your dagger, throwing it away somewhere in your room.
Neteyam chuckled as he saw the small dagger being thrown on the floor. It was no threat to him, but he was impressed by your attempt. The fight between you was starting to really turn him on, you were not as weak as he originally thought and that excited him.
Neteyam suddenly had an idea, and a smirk made its way on his face. He loosened his grip around you and as soon as you tried moving away, he grabbed the side of your neck, squeezing tight.
You let out a painful moan from the pinch of his fingers. Neteyam looked surprised by the reaction but he didn't care. You were weak and your vulnerable spot was your nape.. He looked into your eyes and gave you a quick playful wink. He then pulled you back towards him and squeezed her even tighter than before.
"Fuckfuckfuck!" you cursed, the pain in the nape of your neck becoming too much.
"So hot when you swear..." Neteyam's voice was deeper than before and his eyes were filled with desire. His muscles flexed with every movement he made, his grip was getting tighter each moment he squeezed her against his body. He wanted you to struggle more so he could feel the heat of your body.
"It hurts, you dumb fuck!" You said, lifting your hands up to his huge one that was holding you in your place by your nape.
"Aww, it hurts, does it?" Neteyam smirked and squeezed harder, his grip around your nape was getting tight. He wanted this to hurt his little human, he was getting really turned on by your struggling. Your neck and waist couldn't compare to his strength.
You squeezed his large hand, in hopes to get him off of you. But he didn't move nor did he want to. Then, you dig your nails into his hand, leaving marks behind.
Neteyam smirked again, he really liked it when this tiny human tried to fight him off of you. His huge body towering over yours. Your nails barely did anything to him, he didn't let you go despite you trying. Instead, his muscles flexed as he squeezed you even tighter, his grip getting tighter and tighter.
"Go on, beg me to let you go. I'm not listening till I hear you beg for me"
"I beg you! Fucking let go of my nape."
Neteyam smirked, you was begging him now and he enjoyed it. His muscles relaxed as he let go of your nape. "Good girl" his voice was deep and sarcastic, he was enjoying every second of this interaction between you, you had never made him this excited and turned on.
You quickly lifted yourself off of your bed, standing up and you went right to the door. You put your hand on the door handle and rolled it before you pulled the door towards you, opening it.
"Get out." you said calmly, not taking your eyes off of him.
Neteyam smirked again. If you thought he was leaving just because you said so, you were truly naive. "As if you can tell me what to do. I'm not going anywhere so get back in the bed"
"We're not married yet and this is MY room so get the fuck out!" you spat in his face, standing tall (short) with pride.
"Well we are going to become married soon, so this might as well start being my room too" Neteyam crossed his arms. He got up from the bed and stood beside the door, "I told you I'm not going anywhere, so you have two options here: You either accept that I'll be sleeping with you tonight or I'll drag you back to the bed and we can cuddle. Your choice."
As he spoke, Neteyam already made his way to your bed. He threw some pillows in the same spot before he laid down, resting his head on the mountain of pillows. He got hold of the blanket and pulled it over his body, covering himself.
"Hmm" Neteyam was getting more turned on by her stubbornness, he didn't like weak women, so when she kept resisting he wanted her more and more. He was laying there on the bed with a smug grin, his body stretching across it, it was so big he took the majority of the bed.
"I'm not gonna sleep with you." you said bluntly, crossing your arms over your chest. You wanted nothing more but for him to disappear from your room. Seeing him all spread out on your bed and taking all of the space made you want to slap him hard and send him across the room.
"You can say that all you want, but you know, just as well as I do, that we will be sharing this bed together" Neteyam smirked, his arms spread out on the bed as if he was claiming it for himself, and if this small human woman was gonna sleep next to him, you had to accept that he was gonna hug up on you the whole night.
"We won't." you grabbed a blanket and sat on the sofa, making yourself comfortable. You wrapped the blanket around you, it being the only source of warmth for tonight. "Go to sleep now, Sleeping Beauty." your tone was filled with amusement as you eyed him, taking in his big frame.
You were determined to make your point and it was hot. Neteyam saw you on the sofa and smirked. It was like you wanted him to approach you and drag you back on the bed. He liked the playing hard to get, you made him want to chase you and that was thrilling.
"I'm not going to sleep till you get back on the bed with me" he then crossed his arms and lifted his upper body, leaning against the wall.
"Then you'll stay awake the entire night." you whispered, already getting ready for sleep as the light was already turned off. You wanted to sleep now. You need your beauty sleep, not some jerk who annoys you only.
Neteyam had a smug grin on his face. He then folded his arms and tilted his head, "Just let me cuddle you. I promise nothing more. Just this once?"
"You won't try to kill me?" you opened your eyes and your voice was barely audible.
Neteyam smirked, his eyes flashed, he seemed to consider yoir question for a second before he finally let out a laugh. "Kill you? I'm not going to kill you. I may be a mafia prince but I'm not dumb enough to kill the woman I'm about to marry. Now get over here and let me cuddle you"
"You come and take me. Weren't you saying that you're strong?" you smirked back, wrapping the blanket around you tighter. He said he is strong, so why not let him prove it? You weren't heavy after all, but you were too lazy to get your ass up.
"Hmm" Neteyam smirked, you were right. You were daring him to come take you by force. You didn't know what you had just started. He pushed himself off the bed and then walked towards the sofa. He crouched down and got on the level with you, his eyes looking at you and his body almost bigger than the sofa itself.
"You dare me to take you by force, do you?"
"Are you deaf?"
"Alright, that was a dumb question." he let out another laugh as he stood up, he looked at the small woman's frame and smiled at the challenge, it was gonna be fun. He walked towards you and suddenly wrapped his arms around your small frame, he squeezed you tightly and lifted you up in one go, "There, I took you by force, happy?" he smirked.
"Very. Now get me to bed." you playfully commanded. His grip was suffocating but you couldn't blame him. He maybe didn't notice how strong he was.
Neteyam smirked, he could feel how strong his grip was and how you barely had enough breath to speak the words. "You are really asking me to get you to bed?" he laughed, before walking towards the room and getting on the bed with you, he then placed you gently beside him and he looked at you, he enjoyed the way you were breathing heavily now. "Happy? I took you by force and brought you to bed, I think that deserves some sort of reward, don't you think?"
"And what do you want?" you sighed. You already knew what he desired for but you wanted to hear him beg for it.
"Do I have to be so direct? You should know what I want," Neteyam smirked, he leaned next to you and he spoke softly, right next to your ear, "I want a kiss" he looked into your eyes, his bright yellow ones flashing with desire.
"You won't get one." you said so casually that it actually hurt him, but just for a moment. Neteyam liked when you played hard to get.
"What if I take it?" he whispered in your ear, his breath hot and his body heat making it even hotter, his eyes never leaving yours and his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him.
"You can't force your soon-to-be-wife like that. You'll scare her away." you mocked him, your eyes flashing with amusement. You liked how easily you could turn him into a begging mess without him even knowing.
"Hmm, that may be true, but my instincts are telling me to do this anyway" He leaned closer to you, his body heating you up with every inch he moved closer and closer. Then, he stopped and he whispered, "Are you sure I can't force you?"
"It won't be enjoyable." you explained, your breath getting heavier. You thought he was just messing around but he did want a kiss. Now it was your turn to get shy. You didn't want to kiss him. No. You wanted to get rid of him...then why did the thought of kissing him trigger something inside you?
"Oh but it will be." Neteyam smirked, then he grabbed you by the waist again and pulled you even closer to him. His breath was hot on your neck and his hands slid around your body, one on your side the other on your stomach. He leaned in even more, his big body pressed firmly against yours. "Tell me how much you hate this" he whispered into your ear, his face so close to yours, he could see every detail of your features.
You could feel his hot breath against your skin and how wet he made you. His deep, raspy voice made you want to clench your thighs together but couldn't, due to him having his leg in between yours. He wanted to kiss you, to crush his lips against yours but you didn't want to...
Did you?
107 notes · View notes
1, 3, 39 Adamsapple pirate au please 🙏
1. “If you felt want and longing the way I did — the way I still do — I promise you’d be driven fucking mad.”
3. “You really couldn’t have been any more obvious.” “That’s because I didn’t have anything to hide. I was being obvious, because I needed you to know, without a doubt, that I love you.” 
39. “Chasing you is like chasing the rainbow… It’s impossible. You’re always slipping away no matter how fast I run after you.”
Thank you for sending this in! 😁 Please feel free to send more if you'd like! Any au you want. 😎
Adam struggled against the firm grip of the Krakens tentacles that were wrapped around his body keeping him in place. A hand came out and gently plucked his hat from his head and placed it on the ground next to the mountain of treasure that the King of the seven seas surrounded himself with. "Let me go, asshole!" Adam snarled, but he was only brought in closer to the king. The hand that removed his hat caressed his jawline from ear to chin.
Lucifer hummed as he gazed adoringly at his most prized jewel. "Never again my precious gem."
"The only reason I'm here is because you threatened to destroy an entire island full of innocent fucking people. You're crazy!" Adam tried to move again but the grip only got tighter.
Lucifer leaned in closer to Adams face, he gripped his jaw to make the sea captain look him in the eye. "If you felt want and longing the way I did — the way I still do — I promise you’d be driven fucking mad, too." He placed a kiss on Adams nose, he laughed when the captain wrinkled it and was practically cross eyed looking at his own nose. Or at least as much as someone could with only one good eye. "I've waited so long to have you."
Adam scoffed. "After what you did?"
"For the last time, your eye was an accident. Why the fuck would I purposely damage one of the things I love most about you?" Lucifer said feeling like they just kept having the same conversation.
"Right." Adam looked Lucifer over. “You really couldn’t have been any more obvious. Wearing your heart on your sleeve like that."
“That’s because I didn’t have anything to hide. I was being obvious, because I needed you to know, without a doubt, that I love you.” Lucifer pulled Adams back flush to his chest, he started to kiss the humans ear, cheek, jaw and neck. Hands rubbing up and down on his chest. Lucifer smirked when he heard Adam gasp softly, he licked a strip back up to his ear to whisper. "I searched the seven seas high and low for you all these years. Imagine my surprise when I see you working for the Royal Navy."
Adam wiggled against Lucifer, he really hoped that was a dagger poking him in the ass. "I needed a job."
"As my queen you'll never need to work again." Lucifer kissed his cheek. “Chasing you is like chasing the rainbow… It’s impossible. You’re always slipping away no matter how fast I run after you." He got back close to Adams ear. "Now that I've caught you, I'm never letting go."
Lucifer turned Adams head and smashed their lips together, stealing the air from Adam's lungs. He let his magic flow through him into Adam, if he was to rule by his side he would need to breathe underwater. When he pulled away from the kiss he watched as his magic did it's job.
Adam's brown eyes turned to gold, even the injured one was a pale golden color. Gills opened up on his neck, his skin changed from tan to a slightly more blue shade. His hands became webbed, Adam groaned in pain as tentacles of his own grew out of his back golden in color. "The fuck did you do to me!?"
"Made you perfect." And Lucifer kissed him again.
49 notes · View notes
adobe-outdesign · 10 hours
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for pokemon reviews, have you done diglett/dugtrio and their alolan forms?
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Diglett is what I'd consider to be a quintessential Gen 1 design—no frills, barely any detail, just a wack-a-mole creature with a face. Visually, it's honestly pretty bland, but it helps compensate for this with its "gimmick", if you can call it that: you never see its entire body, with it being perpetually stuck half underground at all times. What the lower body even looks like is a meme in and of itself, even referenced by PMD:
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However, I'd also consider this a result of Gen 1 design, and not in a good way this time. Diglett poking halfway out of the ground worked fine on a Gameboy game, because there were no backgrounds, or anything you could define as "ground" in general. But in recent games, Diglett and its dirt keep being rendered as separate from the ground, which really kills the entire concept. I'm not a game dev, but shouldn't it be possible to make it so the dirt part of Diglett's model automatically picks up the ground texture of wherever it spawns? It's 2024, I feel like we can do better than this. Or hell, just don't model in the dirt mound at all if that's too hard to do.
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I'm not really that big on Dugtrio, just because this style of "copy/paste the same Pokemon twice" is... well, pretty boring. I'm not even opposed to the idea of multiplying Diglett to evolve it (it kind of ties back into the wack-a-mole thing, and really, what else would you do with it), but the design could've changed more in the process—different faces/expressions, different colors, different body lengths, that kind of thing.
For example, when their lookalikes Wiglett evolve, they change their position relative to the ground, change color, and change facial proportion. It's not a lot, but it's enough to differentiate the two, which is what I feel is missing here.
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Speaking of being boring, Alolan Diglett is mostly just regular Diglett but with three blond hairs added. To its credit, I do get what they were going for progression-wise here, and it does change as much as it can about the base design; different, much more saturated colors and dark gray dirk and rocks resembling that of the volcanic minerals in a place like Alola, which is a nice touch. Still, I feel like you could've just skipped this one and done the Cubone thing, with regular Diglett just evolving straight into Alolan Dugtrio, and not really lost much.
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I do find myself liking Alolan Dugtrio just a little more than the original. This might be a hot take, but if the original is going to be slightly silly, I'd rather just take the version that goes all the way with the silly. It also fixes the progression issue I had with regular Dugtrio, changing A. Diglett's individual hairs into long flowing surfer-dude manes.
As alluded to in the 'dex, the "hair" here isn't hair at all, but actually metallic whiskers. This in turn is a nod to Pele's hair, a type of volcanic formation found in Hawai'i, which is technically not also hair but is actually glass.
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I like this concept, but at the same time, something about the line never quite sat 100% right with me. I think it's because Pele's hair doesn't really have anything to do with the Diglett line to begin with (I thought it maybe formed on the ground, but from what I understand it's actually partially airborne). Like, A. Marrowak turns into a fire dancer because of the bone, A. Vulpix is an arctic fox, G. Corsola is bleached coral, etc. Whether it be visually or conceptually, there's generally a connection between the original 'mon and the new theme, whereas here it just feels kind of random. You could technically slap that hair on any Pokemon and have it make as much sense, though it at least fits Dugtrio from a visual standpoint.
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As a whole, Diglett is a fun 'mon with standard visuals but a neat visual quirk, even if it doesn't translate well into the games. Dugtrio is fairly bland, A. Diglett is fine but still kind of bland, and A. Dugtrio at least cranks the silliness up to 100.
Between all three Diglett and Diglett-related 'mons, I think I like Wiglett the best; it's a little plain and could've gotten the eel thing across better, but it has a fitting concept and evolves in a distinct way, which is something I like the actual Diglett line is lacking a bit.
27 notes · View notes
noctumbra · 1 day
Text
𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙟𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙮 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮
summary: kiyoomi was not a jealous person until miya atsumu waltzed into his life.
pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x miya atsumu (sakuatsu)
warnings: s*mut, bl*wj*bs, kissing, flirting, jealous kiyoomi, power bottom kiyoomi, atsumu is a service top change my mind
a/n: it's been so goddamn fucking long since i posted my writing (or wrote anything, really). but lately i'm on my sakuatsu brainrot era and i just HAD to, okay. i hope i'm still able to connect sentences well, and if i'm not and this sucks, i'm sorry. lol. hope you like it! please don't forget to reblog and leave comments! thank you <333 (pls let me know if you know the artist so that i can give them the credit i couldn't find one)
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Normally, Kiyoomi is not a jealous person. 
He knew that his partner would be faithful to him, no matter what, and that the trust they have for each other was what mattered the most. So, the jealousy was technically a foreign feeling for him. 
Until he saw a brunet man hitting on Atsumu, offering him drinks while throwing him sly looks under his eyelashes and giving him sweet smiles. 
The man was a good-looking one, Kiyoomi would admit that without feeling inferior. His brunet hair was slightly short on the sides, styled nicely with a touch of natural tousled look. His face was a handsome, but a little too much on the too-pretty-to-be-only-handsome category: Plush lips, pink-ish red from licking and biting, straight nose with a septum piercing, cat-like eyes in the color of sky blue and thick yet nicely shaped brows. He was a looker, and he knew it. 
Currently, the man was trying to crawl closer to Atsumu, trying to touch their knees or thighs, while offering Atsumu another drink. Meanwhile, Atsumu was all chatty, smiley and happy. Accepting drinks with a big, friendly smile on his face, very unaware of the fact that the guy next to him was hitting on him to the fullest. 
Yet, Kiyoomi did not react. He did not need to because he knew Atsumu was loyal to him and only him. Even though he had this feeling of something burning in him, an urge to snatch Atsumu away from that man, Kiyoomi did nothing and stayed put. He kept sipping his fruity cocktail while fiddling with its umbrella. He was kind of glad that Rin and Osamu were bickering in his ear. 
“How many times do I have to tell ya, I dunno, Rin,” Osamu complained and tried to push Rin off his seat. Not even budging, Rin grinned at Osamu and stuck his tongue out to him. Kiyoomi rolled his eyes. He was surrounded by children all day, every day, and it was surprising that he was still alive. 
“By the way,” Rin started. His green, attentive eyes moved to Atsumu and took in the sight of him being hit on, and then moved back to Kiyoomi, narrowed questioningly. “Doesn’t it bother you?” 
Kiyoomi raised a brow at the question and sipped his drink. “No?” Rin rolled his eyes. He shrugged. “Despite what people think, Atsumu is loyal, and I trust him, so.” Rin hummed. His eyes moved to Atsumu again, and Rin hummed again. 
“Really? Not even that?” He pointed, and Kiyoomi followed his finger and froze. 
The guy’s hand was resting on Atsumu’s thigh, the inner side, and his fingers were rubbing the muscle there. The guy’s mouth was right next to Atsumu’s ear, whispering something, and Kiyoomi could see his tongue touching the sensitive shell there. 
Kiyoomi’s eye twitched. 
He saw Atsumu flinch, immediately pulling back and shaking the guy’s hand off of his body. Yeah, Kiyoomi thought. Push him away. 
“Hey, now,” Atsumu’s voice reached Kiyoomi’s ears. “We’re just drinkin’ here, no needta get handsy.” The guy raised a brow. 
“No need? I’ve been buying you drinks! Why do you think I’m doing that? For the sake of it?” The guy stood up. “I’ve been flirting with you all night, and you’re telling me no need to get handsy? Are you for real?” 
“Jeez, what a piece of work,” Rin muttered, and Kiyoomi agreed with a hum. He only needed to think for half a second before he stood up from his own seat and walked towards Atsumu. He heard Hinata, Bokuto and Osamu whistling behind him, cheering. He held back an eye-roll as he approached the men. 
“Hey, there, darling boy,” he called to Atsumu, and Atsumu immediately brightened. Annoyance disappearing from his face, he smiled big and happily at Kiyoomi. 
“Omi-kun!” His strong arms wrapped themselves around Kiyoomi’s waist, pulling him in between the V of his thighs and resting his head against his stomach. “I’ve missed ya,” he murmured. Kiyoomi, despite the anger bubbling under his skin, sighed softly and petted Atsumu’s honey-colored hair. 
Then, Kiyoomi turned his head to the man standing next to them. His dark eyes were cold, and he raised a questioning brow. “And you are?” He asked and watched the color change on the man’s face. “You here to bring us drinks? I’ll have Sex on the Beach, and my darling likes his Amsterdam.” He heard some choking sounds behind him, where his friends were occupying, and the man sputtered. 
“I am not here to bring you drinks, I’m─” 
“Oh, then you can walk away,” Kiyoomi interrupted. Atsumu’s arms tightened around him. One look at him, Kiyoomi frowned slightly. “Better yet, you stay here and keep drinking. Let’s go, honey,” Kiyoomi tapped softly on Atsumu’s head, and Atsumu, being the puppy he was for Kiyoomi, immediately stood up. He held his hand tightly, waving his free one to his friends, bidding his goodbye. 
They walked hand in hand in silence for a while. Their feet taking them back to their hotel on autopilot, Atsumu felt like he did something wrong. The air around them was awkward and charged with something Atsumu had trouble putting a name on. He could see the barely visible signs of Kiyoomi being angry, but there was a feeling in him that told him that Kiyoomi wasn’t angry at Atsumu. 
Kiyoomi pulled out the hotel room’s key and walked inside after the door beeped open for them. 
“Strip,” he ordered. He spared a few seconds to watch Atsumu fumble with his clothes before turning around and walking towards the bathroom. He took his t-shirt off, soaped his hands and washed them thoroughly. Thinking about the amount of germs and dirt the bars collect made Kiyoomi’s head spin lightly. 
After he was done, he dried his hands and put on some cream to stop his skin drying. He was rubbing the cream in while walking back into the bedroom when he saw Atsumu, all naked, slightly panting with the prettiest blush on his cheeks, sitting obediently on the bed. Kiyoomi stopped. 
“Atsu,” he called out. Atsumu lifted his head up and looked at Kiyoomi with those wide, honey-colored eyes. Kiyoomi felt himself soften at the way he was looking right now, could imagine how Kiyoomi was looking at Atsumu, all fond and in love, and he smiled. “Darling boy,” he murmured and extended his hand out for him. 
Atsumu whined softly as he nuzzled against the peach-smelling hand. He placed his cheek on Kiyoomi’s palm and looked up once again. Kiyoomi felt himself twitch in his pants. 
“I kind of want to punish you for what happened at the bar,” Kiyoomi told him. “Should I?” Atsumu sighed. 
“Whatever ya think would be fittin’, Omi-kun,” Atsumu whispered, nuzzling into his palm a little more. Kiyoomi frowned at the sudden urge to squish Atsumu's cheeks and just love on him aggressively. Atsumu kissed his palm, and then his wrist. His tongue poked sweetly at each mole dotted on Kiyoomi’s arm. 
“Not a punishment, but service,” Kiyoomi said, deciding on the spot. “Punishing you doesn’t sound right when you pulled back.” Atsumu nodded enthusiastically. 
“Ya know I’m all for servicin’, Omi-kun,” Atsumu murmured. “Love servicin’ ya know it.” He bit on the meat of Kiyoomi’s forearm gently. “Can I love on ya? Please?” Kiyoomi let out a soft hum-like moan in response. Atsumu extended his hands to grab Kiyoomi’s waist, thumbs rubbing the skin gently, and pulled him on his lap. 
Kiyoomi nudged Atsumu’s nose with his, lips brushing against each other. Atsumu leaned forward and in, letting their bare chests touch, and kissed Kiyoomi’s chin. 
“How do ya want me, baby?” He asked, peppering kisses along the long line of Kiyoomi’s neck. Kiyoomi hummed, losing himself a little in Atsumu’s sweet kisses. Kiyoomi’s hands found their ways into Atsumu’s hair, grabbing a handful and using the leverage to pull him in even more. Atsumu moaned against his skin. Kiyoomi shivered. “Omi? Baby? Talk t’me, huh?” 
Kiyoomi whined. “Kiss me all over,” he breathed. His resolve from earlier was crumbling quickly. Initially, he planned to take charge, to make Atsumu whine and desperate so that he’d know what would wait for him if he ever let someone flirt with him, but right now, he was practically putty in Atsumu’s clever fingers and loving lips. 
“Whatever my King says,” Atsumu whispered and captured his lips in a filthy, passionate kiss. Moaning, Kiyoomi threw his arms around Atsumu, grinding his hips down on the hardness forming resting against his ass, and returned his kiss just as passionately. Atsumu let out a small gasp. His hands immediately grabbed Kiyoomi’s ass to squeeze and help him move. 
“My God, Omi-kun,” Atsumu panted as Kiyoomi’s dick rubbed against his. “Yer so sexy, such a little feisty thin’ in my arms…” He dove right back in for another kiss and swallowed Kiyoomi’s moan happily. Atsumu flipped their position, finally having Kiyoomi under him, he rested his groin against Kiyoomi’s already hard dick and ground down deep. 
“Fuck, Atsu!” Kiyoomi groaned. Atsumu felt like roaring with the sound and the way his name fell from his beloved’s lips. Grumbling a little to himself, he practically ripped Kiyoomi’s pants off of his body, revealing the gorgeous sight to his hungry eyes. His honey-colored eyes took in the length of his pretty legs, appreciated the muscle covering his body, and his lips tingled with the urge to kiss each mole.
“Goddamn, baby, yer so damn pretty, so gorgeous,” Atsumu mumbled as he dropped his head to kiss his chest, to twirl his tongue on his nipple. Kiyoomi took in a sharp breath at the sensation. “Sometimes I can’t believe that I gotchu in my bed, have you kissin’ and lovin’ me sweetly every day.” He nipped Kiyoomi’s collarbones, biting his way down to the V of his abdomen. “‘m such a lucky bastard, dunno what I did to deserve ya…” 
“Atsu…” Kiyoomi sighed. His hands messed Atsumu’s hair more, fingers tangling with the soft curls. “Atsu, please?” Atsumu groaned in defeat against Kiyoomi’s skin. His lips pressed a kiss right over his hard dick, nose nuzzling against the nicely groomed dark curls at the base of his erection. Kiyoomi’s breath hitched when Atsumu’s hot breath hit his sensitive dick, making it jump and twitch for attention. 
Humming, Atsumu grabbed a hold of Kiyoomi’s dick, pumping it once, twice and three times before rubbing his thumb on the tip to smear the precum collected there. Kiyoomi moaned, thrusted his hips up and spread his legs even more. Atsumu settled between his sweetheart’s slender yet strong thighs, giving kisses to each inner thigh, covering them up with soft bite marks. Kiyoomi moved his hips again, silently begging Atsumu to get on with it. 
Atsumu smirked. “Ay, a’right,” he murmured and closed his lips around Kiyoomi’s hard dick. Kiyoomi’s gasp-mixed-moan echoed in the bedroom. Atsumu took a breath from his nose and slid more of Kiyoomi in his mouth. His throat closed tightly around Kiyoomi, moving each time Atsumu swallowed or hummed or moaned. Bobbing his head up and down, soon, Atsumu was giving Kiyoomi the sloppiest blowjob he had ever had. 
“Atsu,” Kiyoomi was saying. “Atsu, Atsu, Atsu, fuck!” Tears were rolling down his cheeks and wetting the duvet under his body. The sweat was covering every inch of his skin, making it look shiny and so damn lickable in Atsumu’s eyes. Pulling off of Kiyoomi’s dick, Atsumu mouthed Kiyoomi’s balls without giving him a second to complain. “Shit─ If you do that, I’ll─ Atsumu!” Biting down very gently, Atsumu sucked. Kiyoomi’s chest curled off the bed, closed over Atsumu’s head, as he came on Atsumu’s face. Sticky ropes of come covered Atsumu’s pretty face, and honestly, Kiyoomi felt like he could die and die happy. 
“Damn, sweetheart,” Atsumu husked, voice slightly raspy from the blowjob he just gave him. He rose up on his knees on the bed, between Kiyoomi’s thighs, and stroked his own cock. Kiyoomi blinked away the sudden exhaustion and curled and moved his body until he was face to face with Atsumu’s cock. “Omi?” Kiyoomi kissed his thighs. “Baby, ya don’t hav’to. ‘s me servicin’ ya, remember?”
Kiyoomi made a sound of complaint and took his cock in his mouth, deep in throat, in one go. Atsumu sowre loudly, and his hands grabbed Kiyoomi’s shoulders as something to hold on. 
Kiyoomi wasn’t a big fan of giving blowjobs. He knew how filthy men were; some were too lazy to clean their junk, or some were straight up did not care if they were clean or not. So, Kiyoomi always avoided giving blowjobs. It did not mean that he was bad at it, though. With his non-existent gag reflex, Kiyoomi actually didn’t mind having a cock deep in his throat, wrecking it as it fucked his throat on the verge of slightly too much. 
With Atsumu coming into his life, Kiyoomi’s view at blowjobs had changed drastically. Even though Atsumu came across as someone who was lazy and didn’t mind leaving his shit around and maybe clean his space once in a week, he was oddly very clean and organized. He was one of those who was organized in chaos. His shit was scattered all around, yes, but it was weirdly very collected at the same time. It was hard to explain, but overall, Atsumu was clean. Kiyoomi could also make sure of that, so he did not mind Atsumu mind and back blowing blowjobs. 
Like right now. 
“Omi,” Atsumu moaned. His head was thrown back, his strong neck exposed and hair flopped back at the motion, and his eyes were closed as he felt his orgasm approaching rather quickly. “Omi, fuck, baby, ‘m gonna come…” Sighing and moaning, Atsumu’s hands tightened on Kiyoomi’s shoulders, blunt nails digging into the porcelain skin. “Kiyoomi, fuck!” Thrusting his cock even deeper into Kiyoomi’s mouth, Atsumu came. Kiyoomi’s throat massaged Atsumu’s cock sweetly as he swallowed all the come Atsumu had given him. 
Kiyoomi pulled off, licking Atsumu’s cock clean with kitten-like licks.Atsumu’s cock twitched tiredly, but Atsumu knew he could go again if he were to be given five to ten minutes. 
“Omi-baby,” Atsumu breathed. His warm and large hand cradled Kiyoomi’s cheek, lifting his head up and pulling his dangerous lips away from Atsumu’s poor cock, he smiled down at him. “Yer so goddamn pretty,  Omi-kun,” he whispered. Kiyoomi hummed and nuzzled into Atsumu’s palm. 
Leaning in, Atsumu kissed Kiyoomi, spit and come be damned. He could taste himself, but he didn’t mind. Kissing Kiyoomi was his priority. Kiyoomi hummed into the kiss and brought a hand to cradle Atsumu’s face. His thumb stroked Atsumu’s cheek, brow and temple, and then his hand moved to his hair. Fingers tangling in the curls once again, Kiyoomi pulled them back harshly, making Atsumu gasp.
“Let some other guy touch you like that, and I’ll turn your cock blue, Miya, you understand me?” Atsumu gasped once again, cock twitching at the dark tone in Kiyoomi’s voice. “You were so oblivious to his flirting… You just kept accepting his drinks…” He pulled on his hair a little more. “Not again, okay?” Kiyoomi rose up to his knees to make their faces level. “You’re mine and only mine. Got that?” 
Atsumu hummed. “Yes, baby,” he whispered. “Yes, I’m yours, only yours, will never be anyone’s.” Kiyoomi watched him for a couple seconds and let go of his hair. Atsumu let out a breath, and then he immediately tackled Kiyoomi against the bed, trapping him between his body and the duvet. “Mark me,” he begged. “Omi-baby, mark me, let them know ‘m yours, please.” 
Kiyoomi’s eyes glazed over at the request. “You’re threading into the dangerous waters, Miya,” he said. 
“Don’t care as long as I gotchu with me,” Atsumu murmured against Kiyoomi’s skin. “It’s you, baby, I’ll face any danger for ya.” Kiyoomi blinked. 
“God, you’re fucking cheesy,” Kiyoomi grumbled, but his heart was making flips in its cage. Atsumu grinned happily. “You mean it?” Atsumu nodded. “Can I mark you in any way?” Atsumu nodded again. “Don’t come crying to me when you regret your choices.” 
Atsumu’s grin widened. “Never, Kiyoomi.” Kiyoomi kissed him on the lips. 
“You better fucking mean it.” 
───
And mean it, he did.
When Kiyoomi found a way to marry him, getting his ring tattooed on his ring finger, Atsumu did not complain at all. He happily, a little too happily maybe, accepted the proposal, the ring and the tattoo. 
Kiyoomi left a huge hickey on his neck, anyway. 
Atsumu took that without complaint, too, and showed it off without an ounce of shame. 
“My love and pride,” he called it when people asked him what it was. 
Kiyoomi was too busy trying not to blush at his words to care enough about anything else. 
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A cold winter day, and for some reason Howdy is unusually fluffy and Barnaby loves it
NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND i think about them w/ winter coats So Fucking Much its not even funny-
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vyrion · 7 months
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hey anyone heard of this thing called pdsekai?
originals here and here
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liquidstar · 1 year
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oh anyway now that i finished the oc poll i totally gotta finish up drawing them in some different outfits bc it will be epic. im working on their autumn/winter designs rn i have 4/5 done BUT i wanna do a bunch of different stuff so it may take me longer than i think lol
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un-pearable · 1 year
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my jay redesign explanation is that he ironically got freckles after he stopped living in the desert bc he used to have a strict sunscreen regimen when he lived with his parents and while his hair has grown in darker + curlier from the bad haircut he got prepilots (and less sun exposure) he went all >:] i can finally stop… i’m finally free!! and realized no one could get on his case for tempting sun damage anymore. cue freckles five seconds later
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ciaoteamo · 23 days
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Milk and Water Pt. II
pairings: doppelgänger!Milkman x fem!Reader
summary: the aftermath of letting him in
pt.I
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(art credits: @yunonoaii)
warnings: 18+ content
“…what. the. fuck.” You mutter to yourself, watching the scene before you unfold.
“mmm, how about letting me in now? promise i won’t bite you too hard” His eyes were dangerously seductive.
Your desktop fan and the slight rustling sound of (what you could only assume was) him touching himself filled the eerie silence of your office space.
However, he could still tell that you were hesitant to let him in, especially considering what he just did to D.D.D.
“how about this, sweetheart we-“
“if i open this door.” You cut him off. He shuts up quickly and halts his movements with a blank stare. His eyes watching you intently.
“you come straight to me, or else i swear to fuck. it will not be a good time for you. you copy?” Your hands were firmly grasping the edge of the desk as you stared the man in his color changing eyes.
“i promise” He kisses the window and you give him one last short lived glare before unlocking the door for him.
BZZT!
He slowly turns away from you and walks toward the door and you felt relieved to hear a light knock a few seconds later before he let himself in.
“see? you can trust the milkman” He grins.
He was a mess. Between the torn clothing, the blood, and his unzipped slacks that displayed his black briefs holding back a huge bulge, he honestly looked like something out of a wet dream.
“this is quite a small space… you think i’ll be alright in here?” He closed the door behind himself and strides toward you.
“you don’t have any choice but to be alright” You retort and he chortles.
“i love this mouth of yours… i’ve never crossed paths with a human as bold as you…” He tilts his head, placing a hand under your chin to lift it a bit.
“unless you’re actually scared… and using this boldness as a tactic..?” His irises turn white once again and his grip on your chin tightened slightly.
Though you were enduring a near death experience right now, being that you were this close to a doppelgänger, you were unbelievably horny.
“tactics?” You start. You already knew that you probably wouldn’t be able to get out of his grip just by moving, so you used a more… inappropriate approach.
You took a step closer to him, closing in the 2 foot gap that sat between the two of you and you placed your palm over his hard-on.
His grip immediately loosened a bit and his fingers twitched against your skin. What a reaction that was…
You feel more confident, realizing that he’s just another horny good looking guy. “is there a reason i should be afraid of you?” You ask, hand squeezing around him and a finger rubbing his tip.
He shudders and his hand falls from your chin and rests around your throat. His forehead tapped against yours, and your eyes were fixed on each other. “…you really are something”
“wish i could say the same for you“ You start, breaking the eye contact to look at his lips and sharp canines. “you’re just a slutty and messy excuse of a monster” Your words would probably be venom to anyone else, but this only riled him up more.
You felt his throbbing under your palm and grin to yourself before being greedily pulled into a kiss. For a brief moment, you could taste a metallic bloody taste on his tongue.
You moaned at the warmth of his mouth and felt his hands rested on your hips, rubbing circles into the area.
You release yourself from the kiss with his bottom lip between your teeth and a smile. “desperate, are we?” You tease.
“painfully…” His eyes glistened. “what’ll it take to get those pretty lips to go a little lower?”
“show me what yours can do first and i’ll see about returning the favor” You challenge. His eyes go back and forth between yours before he kisses you again.
This time however, he started to undo your uniform. Groaning so deeply that you felt the rumble in your throat. His skilled hands loosened your belt and your slacks came down and off.
Next he lowered himself and lifted you a bit to get off your socks and shoes, making him get more sloppy and needy within the kiss.
At this point he was squatting and you were standing over him, holding both sides of his face. His hands travelled up and down your leg as he stayed in his position and this time, he’s the one to break the kiss.
You were both breathing heavily, and staring each other down. You almost forgot your resolve and let him fuck you right then and there.
But you had to stay strong, for both of you guys’ sake. You take a deep breath in and til your head.
“well, you gonna show me? or are just sit there and look delirious from a simple kiss?” You teased.
“…may i?” He asks with a slightly raised eyebrow, gesturing toward your leg.
“go ahead”
“hold on to something right”
“why am i h- shit!” You would’ve fell right to the ground if it wasn’t for the shelf behind you that held last months documents. Albeit, they’re scattered over the floor now.
Your legs were snatched from underneath you and each one was hooked over the man’s shoulders. His warm breath against you felt sinister. It sent a slight chill up your spine.
His eyes stared down at your sex and he licked his lips, looking more excited than you did for this. “don’t let go” He says before using gis fingers to spread you sticky lips.
His tongue pressed hard into you and drug from your hole, up to your clit. You bit your lip at the warmth and felt your back arch against your will.
“ha~ this all you got? Thought you said you’d be bet- anghh~!” Your eyes widen and your mouth drops at the new feeling below.
“you were saying?” He mumbles into you. His tongue was longer with a pointy tip, and his lips were wrapped tightly around your clit.
The pleasure was almost overwhelming. You could definitely admit that he made you eat your words and replace them with loud endless moans.
As you felt yourself getting closer you began to grind your hips over his face, chasing after your high.
“don’t stop” You could barely get out the last word before the wave of immense overstimulating pleasure came over you.
You curse and take in a few deep breaths, calming yourself down a bit, and only then did he let your clit go with a ‘pop’, making your legs to twitch.
“that wasn’t fair” You jokingly glare at him, the sweat making your skin shine and chilly from the fan air.
“i told you i was better” He wipes his chin with his thumb and licks it clean without breaking the eye contact.
“you have to be some sort of… sex demon” You shake your head in disbelief.
“maybe i am?” He lets you tug him closer by his tie and give him another sloppy kiss. The change in size of his tongue being just below too much for you as it explored your mouth.
“well let’s see how long you can last then… hm?” You ask, beginning to leave a trail of light kisses on his next before a harsh bite.
You could feel him shudder and decided to have him sit in your office chair. “let me borrow this..” You say, undoing his tie while he sat.
You spin the chair around and bring both of his arms to the back and tie them to the chair. When you spin his back around, his had such a mischievous grin that you went ahead and addressed.
“yes, i know you could probably get out of that in a heartbeat” You start and roll your eyes. He chuckles, amused at your awareness. “but, will you?” It was your turn to put on the sly grin now. The second he managed to break free from his restraint, would be the moment you’d send him off.
“…” He read your face, bit knowing if he should say something sly or not.
“right, thought so” You smile and give him a few taps on the cheek.
You kneel between the man’s legs, finally addressing the large and throbbing penis before you.
“god you’re hard… you weren’t kidding when you said you needed help” You joke, rubbing his wet tip through his boxers with you finger.
He grunted a bit and readjusted himself in his seat. You look up at him before pressing harshly on it with your thumb.
“oh fuck you~” He throws his head back and you giggle.
You reach for the hem of his briefs and tug at them, signaling him to lift his hips. Once he’s exposed, you could really see the girth and length of him.
He was veiny, thick… bright pink tip, and god knows how long it was.
You put your hand around the base, it was warm and nearly pulsating. Your pace was moderate, giving him just enough to work with. You knew it was a nice steady pace when his hips slightly jerked up for more friction.
“needy boy wanting to fuck my hand? this wasn’t even the main event you asked for, love” You coo, strengthening the grip you had on him by a smidge.
“i can’t help that you know how to use those hands of yours so well” He remarks, still facing the ceiling.
You pump your fist higher up and use your own skilled tongue to drag along his vein.
“@$?!~” He moaned and immediately looked down at you with a snarl. An almost threatening one telling you that he wanted more.
And were you planning on giving it to him? Absolutely not.
You stare right back at him and smirk, using the same motion and occasionally sucking the pre cum from its leaky pink source.
“i’m gonna cum” Your eyes welled a bit at the large shaft triggering your gag reflex. But he was close so you would endure the slight pain.
His thrust his hips up a few times and you force your head as far as you could before completely stopping.
“fuck- why’d you stop” His voice was almost a whisper and suddenly thick white ropes shot into the air and landed on his thigh.
“oh i’m sorry, i’ll keep going” You reach for his most sensitive spots, overstimulating him into a nervous laughter as he begged you to stop.
It was fun watching him experience more than he could handle, but all good things come to an end.
He sighs in relief, sweaty, heaving, and dazed.
“can i be freed now?” He asks.
“sure, why not. looks like you’re done here anyway” You shrug.
“who’s done?” He stands up, simply snapping the tie apart.
“oh… you’ve still got more in you?”
“im the milkman, i never run out” He suddenly picks you up and sits on you on the desk. Jesus, these things are strong.
You wrap your hands around your neck, suddenly feeling the arousal for another round yourself.
His hands find your slick entrance, teasing the outside and slipping two cold slender fingers into you.
“mmm!” You mean into the kiss, holding onto his forearm as he fingered you at an inhumane pace. You break away and cat h your breath trying to slow him down a bit.
“i don’t want to cum from this, put it in” You say.
“yes ma’am” He lines himself up without your entrance and slowly pushes himself in with a moan. You could every centimeter of the stretch as he went deeper.
You tapped the back of your head onto the window behind you and felt him kissing on your neck and collarbone.
“fuck you’re big” Your voice slightly shook as you stated the obvious.
“and you’re so warm and wet inside, i ashamed to admit that i almost came putting it in” He chuckled before biting back another groan.
RIIIIING
RIIIIING
You snap your head in the direction of the phone and see D.D.D. calling.
Shit.
“stop, i have to take this.” He halts his thrusts and you grab the phone. “hello?”
“agent number” A deep voice says over the phone.
“5 5 8 4 3 7” You state clearly.
“thank you agent (Y/N), we’re calling about a few M.I.A. cleaners? it says in our system that you were the last to call. is everything alright?”
“ye-es~” You feel something rubbing your g-spot and look over at Francis. ‘stop, now.’ You mouth silently. He just smirks and speeds up.
“are you sure? you sound like you’re being threatened” The man on the phone asks.
“mhm~, im fine sir, just a little shaky” You put your hand over the phone speaker and look at Francis.
“what the fuck is wrong with you??” You ask, interrupting yourself with a few moans.
“just a little thirsty for some water” He thrusts harder, causing him to hit your g-spot, and your clit back to back.
You cover your mouth with your shirt and moan into it, hearing the buzz of a voice on the phone. Honestly you should be scared, they could show any minute, but right now, you could care less.
“im gonna cum” You whisper, still being mindful of the potential listeners.
“yeah?” He grabs a young and stands straight up, slamming you down into his cock. You let out something just short of a scream into the crook of his neck and find yourself twitching and shaking in his grip.
You heard a splash and felt him fill you up with his seed. You both were a moaning, groaning mess, heavily breathing in place.
“(Y/N), do you copy?……. we’re on our way” The phone then hangs up and the low buzzy voice is replaced with a prominent beep.
“you have to go, they’re coming” You lazily try to leave his strong hold with a tired push against his chest.
“but first” He puts you back on the desk where you rest your back against the cold glass window. “a drink..” His tongue grows longer right infont of you, and cleans you from your ankles to your navel, and of course he ran it over the bundle of nerves he’s been abusing all night, making your body jolt.
“you’re so delicious… i wish i could always taste you” His tongue goes back to its normal size.
“well i’ll get going now… i’ll be seeing you again soon, love. i’ll try not to cause too much trouble next time…” He gives you a peppery kiss on the nose and leaves.
Well, that’s one way to end your day shift…
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chastiefoul · 2 months
Text
love and deepspace men when you keep telling them you love them
ft. zayne, xavier, rafayel fluff fluff and fluff
zayne
“is that how you’re going to reply to anything i say today?” he asked in a serious tone, although the slight twitch at the corner of his lips betrayed him. you smiled just a tad wider, gaining a reaction from the man whose lap you’re sitting at. “i love you,” you say once more, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. zayne just looked at you, he gazed at you so adoringly with eyes that told you millions. a hand cupped your jaw as you leaned into the touch, his hand felt warm. his thumb rubbed your cheek, then he let out the slightest smile to himself. “i can never win against you, can i?” he asked, kissing your lips as you could feel his smile against yours he mumbled, “i love you too.”
xavier
xavier offered you his sweetest smile as he stared at you. “i think i like this game.” he pulled you close, his arms around your waist as he leaned it, his breath ghosting over the skin of your cheek. you laughed at the ticklish feeling. “and i think i love you,” you replied, grabbing a hold of his face with both of your hand to stop his mischievous movement. xavier smiled once more, to a point where looked like he’s practically beaming. “again,” he whispered. “i love you, xavier.”
he chuckled happily, the sound filled your chest with an overwhelming sensation. “again?” he rested his forehead against yours, a gorgeous smile still loyal on his lips. “i love you so much, xavier.” xavier closed his eyes, as if basking the happiness that he thought could last for two eternities. he pressed a kiss on your lips, “i love you.” he pulled away before leaning in once more. “i love you, (y/n). always.”
rafayel
he looked almost smug on the first one, a coy smile painted his feature. “i know that,” he said as he crossed his arms, looking a tad too proud of himself. “rafayel, i love you,” you said once more as his demeanor changed slightly from the confident man to someone who looked a little unsure. “oh.. uh.. y-yeah you said that already,” he rubbed the back of his head, a pretty color of pink rose to his cheeks. you chuckled quietly at the expected reaction. you put your arms around his neck as you once more said, “have i told you that i love you so much rafayel?”
his blush now has spread all the way to the tip of his ears. “yes, yes you did, enough please!” he face palmed, trying to cover half of his face which proved to be futile since he left enough space so he could still look at you. “you never have mercy on my poor heart,” he mumbled, finally reciprocating the embrace. you squinted your eyes, expecting a certain sentence to be said back. “fine, fine. i love you too. happy?” he said, teasing. you exaggerated a frown as he laughed. “i love you, (y/n).” he said sincerely, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.
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rissouu · 4 months
Note
could you do a plug! eren x reader where eren gets super overprotective 🩷
yesss ofc! im sorry this took a while i just had to get some damn motivation 😭 i been slacking.. my bad pookies!
his hands stayed wrapped around your waist as you walked through the mall, he promised to take you on a shopping spree. and right now the only thing you really needed were shoes— so foot locker it was.
it was like eren could sense all the stares you were getting, in his eyes those tiny ass the shorts you wore barely covered up anything.. (he was just being dramatic, the shorts weren’t that tiny but he still hated them.) he made a mental note to toss the shorts out as soon as you two made it home.
he tried getting you to change before you guys even arrived at the mall, but of course you weren’t going to listen to him— you never did. that’s one of the characteristics he loved about you but that didn’t make it any less annoying.
when you finally reached the famous shoe store, you couldn’t hide your excitement. you’d always been a sneaker head after all, always having the newest pair of dunks or jordan’s, a lot of people envied you because of it honestly, but oh well.
you couldn’t resist snatching out of eren’s hold and practically running towards the shoes on display. the dunks that you’d been wanting for months finally dropped, and you just had to get them before they sold out.
“ma you know how i feel ‘bout you walkin’ off on your own,” he made his way back over to you, annoyance evident on his face. eren hated when you did this, he wanted(needed) to be by your side at all times. why couldn’t you understand that?
“im sorry babyyy, i just really need to check if they have my size!” you bent over to take the shoe off the rack— completely forgetting that your shorts were the type to rise up when you did so.
you didn’t think too much about it and stayed in your current position— throughly inspecting the shoe. the color looked better online but shit, it was still cute.
eren eventually got tired of standing, he knew how you got when it came to shoes. he’d be standing there for a whole damn hour fucking with you, so he just sat down on one of the benches used to try on shoes.
he always got so bored coming to stores with you because you always tuned him out and wandered off on your own. you were addicting to shopping and even more addicted to shoes.. the only thing he could do was sit down and go on his phone, since you’d clearly be taking forever.
you were so focused on the baby blue shoes that you hardly even noticed anyone’s presence behind you, turns out one of the workers had been eyeing you for quite a while now.. waiting for his chance to make a move. your beauty caught him off guard and he knew he couldn’t let a fine thing like you just walk away.
“hello welcome, did you need help with- oh god damn..”
that was enough to finally get eren’s attention off his phone as his eyes snapped towards the scrawny dude licking his lips— enjoying the sight of your shorts working against you.
with a low chuckle your man stood from his seat, slowly inching towards you to make his presence known. he snatched you by your waist— easily causing your form to straighten out. he took his eyes off you for one second and you’re bent over with them little ass shorts on?
he had half a mind to just fuck you right here and now to let all these muh’ fucka’s know who you belong to, but luckily he had enough self restraint.
“i’ll kill you right now man, ion even play like that. better walk yo’ ass on somewhere,” eren slightly lifted his black tee— flashing his gun that was strapped on his waist. he roughly yanked you behind him so the fucker wouldn’t dare to look at you again, and the only thing you could do was let him.
not that you would’ve resited anyway, you loved when eren got aggressive like this (not that you’d ever admit it).
“o-oh that’s you? i apologize i didn’t-“
“’fuck up talkin’ to me yo, you got five seconds to walk away before i put a bullet in you.” one death glare from eren was enough to send the worker running off in fear.
you stayed silent because you knew better than to say anything when he got like this, you were in for it once you got back home.. that’s for sure.
“fuck those shoes, we’re leaving. and as soon as we get in the car i want them shorts off,”
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marcsburnerphone · 3 months
Text
And they were roommates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: angsty (minimal), john being slightly troubled, alcohol, reader being slightly embarrassing.
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5!! -part 6
—————-
You wake up to the sun softly beaming in your room. Limbs stretching beyond the covers. You look around a little confused as to when you got back in your bedroom. Then it all came together. John, John leaves today.
You get out of the covers leaving your bedroom hoping he’s still there but of course to your disappointment he’s gone. You head to the kitchen knowing at least there will be a note. 
Good morning doll, I thought of waking you but decided against it, though I might regret it. The movie was good, you seemed to really be enjoying it also:) Here's the phone number of a friend in case any problems arise. Next time I’m back I hope to see another painting - John 
(xxx-xxx-xxxx) - nick
You stare at it trying not to let your emotions get the best of you. So you fold it and put it in the kitchen drawer. Although John was an awfully quiet roommate you could feel the weight of his absence. The cold floor beneath your feet has grown warm for how long you’ve stood there. You make your way towards the front door deciding that an iced coffee and a long drive with music will rid you of this feeling you can’t decipher it feels like want but in a way it’s also need but what is it you want and need? Not even you could answer that question.
Long story short you think it made the feeling intensify.
————-
1 month in
You’ve booked your schedule full leaving not an ounce of time for yourself. From the morning till night you had clients which were good for money but really it was a distraction for your mind. That same feeling felt like it was running into new veins every day seemingly consuming you. 
You tried to start a new painting but something was off about the color scheme and it was a waste not only of time but material and energy. You wonder how John is.
————-
2 months in
No problems have arisen since he’s been gone. It's like the house knows you’ll call the expensive plumber instead of John’s friend. 
However you have started a painting you are beginning to like. It’s a mix of hues you’ve never used before blues and oranges, a flame. You don’t know where or why the idea came to you but it’s what you wanted so you started it. A single candle is the outline, and the surrounding of it is the orange yellowish aura of a flame. You tried making ratatouille the other day and although it was good you wished it was made out of pepperonis like your childhood mind had imagined. You forgot there was no longer anyone to finish left overs so you ate it for three days straight.
Also you bought a new rug.
————-
3 months in
You’ve begun putting the final laminate on the painting. It’s taken you far longer than it would’ve if you hadn’t accepted 15 new clients. Not that you mind anyways. 
You’re also a little ambivalent to the idea of John paying for 6 months of rent when he doesn’t even live here during it. 
Besides that life seems stagnant and you’ve begun to lock your bedroom door at night again. 
————
4 months in
The painting now hangs a foot away from where the other one in front of John’s door does. It’s a beautiful contrast and really you were overjoyed at the outcome. You also randomly decided it’d be a good idea one night after too much wine to order new furniture for the outside deck. When it arrived you were one in disbelief of all the building pieces and and two excited to have something more to do. 
You should've stayed up the night John left.
————
5 months in  
Redecorating the deck wasn’t enough change. You needed a makeover physically but couldn’t decide how. Maybe a tattoo? No. New makeup? No. How about a haircut?  Fuck it, yes. 
So you did just that, you got a few almost unnoticeable highlights and chopped a good amount off. After the fact you were obsessed. Was it impulsive and could it have gone so horribly wrong, yes. But did it? No. 
———
6 months in 
John’s still not back and it’s all you could think about. What if something happened to him? What if he wasn’t coming back? You worried yourself sick so much so you physically became sick. 
You waited week by week for anything, maybe he’s back on base but just hasn’t come back home yet. But something was telling you it was more than that. 
———-
7 months in 
At this point worrying wasn’t going to make him appear. Your hobbies have now turned into distractions. So tonight you sit in the living room with a glass of wine and watch another rom com. You’re as comfy as can be in this cold brutal weather. It stays below 30 degrees Fahrenheit during this time of year and the snow bites at any unclothed skin. 
You fall asleep to the small hum of the heater while on the couch. Thick blanket thrown across you and tv playing as background chatter. 
You don’t know when you wake but it’s still dark outside when you hear someone that sounds distressed. Your groggy mind isn’t processing that the sound is coming from inside the house. But when it does you're up in a second looking around as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness. 
“Fuck!” You hear from down the hall. John’s room.
You walk quietly towards it as he continues to chant that word. Suddenly it falls silent and you just hear what sounds to be deep breaths. You don’t know what wills you to knock, but you do. 
“John, are you okay?” You ask softly from behind the closed door. He doesn’t respond but you know he’s in there from the quiet but quick breathing. 
“No.” He says with that familiar deep drawl.
You open the door slowly to see him sitting on the floor near the corner of his bed clearly distressed. You take notice of the mess wondering how you slept through the making of it. There’s glass from somewhere on the floor and clothes strewn but when you look at him your heart breaks. He’s in full uniform, vest on, belt with equipment on, as if he didn’t stop anywhere. Just came straight here. His hair has grown out to an odd length and his beard has grown longer. 
“I can’t get this fucking vest off.” He interrupts your thoughts looking at you with a sense of sorrow. You kneel to where he is careful to avoid glass. His eyes don’t glance up to meet yours; they stay fixated on his hands that are covered in dirt.
“May I?” You gesture towards the plastic buckles on the vest. He nods and you start with the two at his shoulders. Then you reach down his chest to undo the two near his belt buckle. You realize it must be connected somewhere in the back when it doesn’t come off. He leans forwards as you look trying to avoid the bloodstains that taint the once green vest and sure enough the tiniest but mightiest buckle is on the center of his lower back. He shrugs it off with a sigh. 
“Better?” You ask softly.
“Yeah, Thankyou.” He slowly tilts his head back to lean on the comforter and you don’t move an inch. 
“What can I do?” Truthfully you’ve never been in a situation so unbearably awkward but so unwilling to just leave.
“Just sit here with me.” So you do. You scoot right next to him and lean your head on his shoulder. He couldn’t admit it but the nights he slept in cold frost biting weather the thought of returning to your warm presence got him through.
“He almost died.” His voice gives out at the end of that sentence.
“Who?” 
“Johnny, it would’ve been my fault. One second later and they would’ve put a bullet through his skull.”
“But he’s okay?” You know John loves his team even though he doesn’t outwardly say it.
“He’s perfectly fine.” 
“Worrying about what could’ve been will kill you.” 
“Sometimes I feel like that’s what I deserve for some of the things I’ve done.” 
“If not you it would be someone else making the world a better place.” 
“I know.” 
You sit there with him for a while in silence. He can barely believe he made it back alive but right now the battle feels worth it. He hears soft snores not too long later and realizes you’ve fallen back to sleep. His head leans to rest above yours as he closes his eyes. He knows sleep won’t come to him but he’s never had you this close and for now he’ll cherish it.
————-
When you woke up again the sun had risen and a golden glow lit John’s room. 
“John.” You whisper trying not to move your head in case he’s sleeping.
“Yeah doll.” He lifts his head to look at you.
“I’m so sorry.” You feel slightly embarrassed and bad that you just fell asleep on him.
“Nothing to be sorry for.” He sighs before standing on his feet with a groan then offering you hand to help you up.
“I’m going to shower.” He says as you dust yourself off.
“After can I give you a haircut?” He laughs a little at your not so subtle realization of his long hair..
“If you’d like.” 
“I’d love.” You say before leaving, assuring him you’d be back when he's done.
You pick up your mess from the previous night. Folding your blanket and putting it back in the basket near the couch. Taking your wine glass to the sink and rinsing it out. You go to your room and change into an outfit for the day and do your morning routine. After you grab your shears, clippers and cape. By the time you're done doing all of this you no longer hear the water running meaning John’s done with his shower. You knock on his door lightly.
“Come in.” You walk in to see him sweeping up his mess with the small house broom and can’t help but smile at the sight. 
“Come on, let's cut your hair in the bathroom, better lighting and you can see what I’m doing.” You say heading straight there. You sit him on the little bathroom bar stool that’s been in there since your ex moved out. Once he’s sitting the only cape you have is pink so you throw it on him begging yourself to not laugh which you fail causing him to smirk. 
“Okay so I’m just gonna clean it up, fade the sides a very little, cut the top with shears and what not.” You let him know.
“You cut your hair?” He replies, staring at you through the mirror.
“Yeah so?” You smile.
“I like it, it looks good.” You feel that feeling only johns been able to provoke.
“Thankyou.” You begin the cut, slowly combing out sections making sure to be precise. He seems far more relaxed than you’d imagined as you just freely cut at the top. After the matter once you're satisfied you shave the sides a little just enough to where it looks cleaner. 
“Can I do your beard and mustache?” 
“You're the hairstylist, not me?” Is all he says. 
So you do, very carefully, mere inches away from his face your hands hold one side of his jaw softly to trim the other side. He watches your expression intently. The way when you’re focused there’s a crease that forms between your eyebrows and your pupils blow a little wide.
“All done.”  You say pulling him from his trance. You move his face with your hands really checking to make sure all is well.
“Very handsome.” You compliment before turning around to rinse your shears and put them away. 
“Thank You doll.” He says examining it himself in the mirror thoroughly pleased with how well you did even though he knows you don’t cut men’s hair. He doesn’t notice you grab his beard oil from the cabinet till you're smoothing it between your hands and asking him to face you so you can rub it through the coarse brown hair. Ever the nurturer.
It feels like time apart only made you two feel closer somehow. Or maybe it’s because you wanted to be close and those feelings were equally reciprocated. 
The rest of that day John had loads of paperwork to file, sign and report. So he did that, he sat in his office for long hours going through the process. The only thing that slightly lightened this burden was your voice humming in the kitchen as you cooked something. You’d stopped by and offered him some which he gladly accepted from your giving hands. Hours later you bid him a goodnight and went to bed and even then he had so much more left.
—————
The next day you catch John in the kitchen and tell him there’s something you must show him.
“So you built it all yourself?” He says as you show him your little project you did outside. There’s a thick coat wrapped around you as you don’t fully step outside to avoid slipping on the icy ground. Him though, he stands on it with no problem in what looks like military issued boots. 
“Yes I did.” You say proudly despite his clear disdain.
“I missed you, even your stubbornness.” After the months John’s been through there was no point in hiding the way he was feeling.
“I missed you too.” You smile while clearly avoiding his gaze.
How had he missed this all along?
“Would you like to go out for drinks?”
“What?” You turn around to meet his eyes.
“Can I take you out for drinks?” What being mere inches away from death does to a man.
“Yeah.” 
-
You both silently walk away trying to break the bounds of the tense pull that makes you want to gravitate towards each other. You put on something cute but also warm and slip on some brown doc martens as your choice of shoe. You do light makeup as you give yourself a pep talk.
“Only two drinks, only two drinks.” You have to tell yourself cause after two your too you. 
You hear John putting his shoes on by the hallway and take in the sight of him, brown leather jacket and beanie. You’re not sure how he’s going to stay warm in that but something tells you he will.
“Ready?” He asks and you nod nervously.
-
“Okay, hold on, I have to do this really slow or I’ll fall.” You say stepping slowly out onto the ground below the porch stairs. 
“Well come here I’ll help you.” He offers his hand. You grab it softly, swooning at the way it encompasses your own. There’s something inside of him that doesn’t even want you to risk walking on this floor but of course he also doesn’t want to push. 
“Okay nice and slow.” You’re not even taking full steps, just small slides. You clutch his hand for dear life and he loves it. 
“Good girl.” He says once you reach the door of his truck which he opens for you. He doesn’t let go till you sit inside then only does he slip his hand from your warm one and closes the door. 
“Which pub?” You ask as he turns on the heater only for your sake.
“The one downtown near the little Italian grocer.” You know exactly which one he’s talking about. Its dim light atmosphere is cozy but fun but usually full of mainly couples.
“Mkay.” You say looking out the window at the gloomy sky realizing it just might rain. 
He glances your way during the small drive, your scent of your floral perfume mixed with his of cardamom and musk is quite perfect. 
“You alright?” He asks.
“Yeah, just comfy, you?” He grins at your response.
“Never been better.”
He pulls into one of the street parking spots and despite the weather the streets are full, he gets out to put coins inside the slot for time before heading to your side of the car. 
“Wait, I'm scared.” You say realizing that the distance to the bar doesn’t seem to be a survivable one. 
“Come on, I'll hold your hand.”
“I’ll fall regardless.”
“Want me to carry you?” He genuinely offers.
“What?” You laugh. 
“Doll I’m very serious I will carry you, just get on my back.”
“What if we both fall?” 
“I’m not falling, trust me.” He says turning around motions for you to get on his back.
“Okay then.” You hook your legs around his upper waist and his arms reach to tuck themselves firmly beneath your knees.
“Comfortable?” He asks. He’s sure you can hear his heart racing from the proximity you’re in. 
“Very.” All your dreams of climbing this man have come true. 
You shut the door as he steps onto the sidewalk. You tuck your chin in by his neck for warmth. He smells woodsy with a hint of musk, it makes your head spin.
“How are you not slipping?” You say very suspicious.
“Doll I could run on this floor with these boots on.” He answers looking slightly over his shoulder at you.
“Well don’t.” You say seriously and he laughs as he approaches the bar, opening the door and setting you softly on the floor. 
He finds you both a booth in the corner and sits on the side where he can see the entire bar, very John of John.
“What do you drink?” He asks, trying to make conversation. Suddenly the air feels very intimate, almost too intimate for what he considers his old man heart.
“When I’m out, martinis.” 
“Espresso?” 
“Mhmm.” You’re trying your hardest to hold the eye contact he’s giving you but something about the blue in his eyes and creases on the side of them has you breaking it quicker than it started.
“I’ll be back then.” He says sliding out of the booth feeling slightly accomplished.
You sit there looking at the lively pub, how many romances are at their peak here, how many friends are having the best night of their lives, how you amongst them are finally feeling like you again. 
“Here we are.” He says returning with two glasses, his is a classic bourbon with a square ice cube in the glass.
“Thankyou.” You say as he slides it over to you.
“So what’d you do while I was gone, other than be reckless and build furniture.” He asks as you sip from your glass.
“I did lots of hair, painted a bit, found new color schemes for decor and that’s kinda it, I’d ask you the same question but I fear you can’t answer.” 
“Your fears are true.”
“That Kate woman, she's very pretty.” Are you a little jealous?
“Yeah she’s also very married.” He says it like he doesn’t know what you're on about.
“And also not into men.” You nearly choke on your drink and swallow hard to get it down.
“Well I was just saying.” Sure you were.
You two have small chatter as you go through drinks. You tried to offer the second round but John said no for you to just stay in your seat. He came back with thirds and you definitely were starting to feel the effects of the previous two, him though not at all.
“So you’re telling me John you as very um good looking as you are haven’t had a girlfriend in how long?” 
“Eight years.” He says while being very amused with your light hearted, open attitude.
“That’s just not right.”
“No?” 
“No, personally, well never mind.” You’re not drunk enough to say what you were about too.
“What about you, why no boyfriends?” 
“I’m very, I would say needy I guess clingy even, I’m a double texter, someone who worries and loves too much and I think that can be overwhelming for a lot of people.” You admit.
“Don’t believe that.” He says, sounding a little annoyed.
“For the right person you could never be overwhelming.” He says looking at you intensely and this time you can’t seem to look away.
Once your third drink is finished it’s raining outside and you’re words away from trouble.
“John?” 
“Yeah doll.”
“You make me feel alive again.” You admit, the alcohol has casted a pretty shade of pink on your cheeks as you lean your head on your hand and John doesn’t think he’s ever been more entranced. 
“You and me both, here drink some water.” He slides it to you. You’re sweet, too sweet. He feels like if he touches you physically or emotionally he’d be tainting art.
“Has anyone told you you're very climbable?” 
“It’s time for us to get going, you're quite the light weight.” He laughs offering you a hand as you slide off the booth.
He leaves a tip on the table before walking with you to the door. He has to bend far more than he normally would for you to secure yourself on his back before he’s walking outside. This time he’s walking faster because of the rain droplets that are falling hard. He seats you in the car and reaches across you to buckle you in before heading to his side. 
The drive home is pretty quiet, he drives extra slowly because of the precious cargo he carries. Once he pulls back into the gravelly drive way you unbuckle and open the door as he puts the car in park. 
“You don’t want to wait for me.” He asks, a little concerned.
“I got this.” You hop out of the elevated truck immediately slipping and having to grab onto the door. He walks quickly to your side laughing at the expression on your face.
“You sure do.” He says as he grabs your arm
“Oh stop it.” You say accepting the help, sliding your feet on the ice again till you get to the door. Once you get inside you groan into the toasty air. 
“Thankyou for tonight John.” You say facing him once you kick your boots off. You hadn’t realized how close you were till you turned around and could feel the heat radiating off of him and smell the bourbon on his breath. 
“No, thank you.” He says feeling awfully captivated, hanging onto your every move. You cup his face and stand on your tippy toes, boldly yet slowly placing a kiss on the corner of his lips. 
He’s starstruck. Absolutely dazed at the look of mischief in your eyes, something that tells him you know exactly what you’re doing to him. 
“Goodnight John.” You say patting his chest and walking down towards your room.
—————
I couldn't wait till tommorrow i'm sorry.
comments and reposts are greatly appreciated:)
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moonstruckme · 4 months
Note
Ugh, Whimsical!reader x James (not together yet) where anytime she says something he just has the most lovesick look on his face and Sirius is like “we’ve lost him, boys” but then reader quips back with something about looking at those you’re comfortable and friendly with boosts your seratonin and you’re glad to have James look at you if it makes him happy
Thanks for requesting babe!
James Potter x whimsical!reader ♡ 932 words
“You seem like you’re feeling better today, Remus,” you say, passing him a cup of tea. You give one to Sirius, too, then James. It’s got a couple of little flowers floating on the top, James notices. Adorable. 
Remus looks a bit caught offguard. “I am, thanks. How’d you know?” 
“Your aura’s looking less gray than usual.” 
Sirius snickers. “Just like you to have a gray aura, Moons. Boring.” 
You settle on the couch beside James, crossing your legs underneath you. “I don’t think Remus is boring,” you say, voice soft and airy as dandelion fluff. “His color often just looks a tad sapped. It’s bluer today.” 
Remus seems to perk up a bit at your appraisal. He does look well, James thinks, but your noticing improves his color even more. Remus doesn’t like being viewed like a helpless, afflicted lamb, and you never have treated him like one, save whatever you put in his tea (it takes a few minutes longer to make than the rest of yours, though James pretends not to notice). 
James watches you watching Remus, and his heart gives a happy little throb. You’re so kind, considerate in ways which you play off as incidental, but he can see the effort you put into taking care of the people in your life. He doesn’t know how you know half the things you do, but you’re always looking out for them. He’ll be waiting for Sirius to come home late at night and you’ll text to ask if everything is okay, or Remus will be having one of his worse days and you’ll show up unannounced with chocolates and juniper bound with twine to “cleanse” their flat, whatever that means. Or when James was sick with the flu a few weeks ago, and Remus and Sirius both swore they hadn’t said a word to you but he’d woken from a nap to find you sitting beside him with soup and a very strong elderberry tea. He’s fairly sure your presence had healed him just as much as the sustenance. You have that effect on him. 
“Do we all have auras?” Sirius asks, and James comes out of his reverie to find his friend watching him with a poorly concealed smirk. He supposes he’s had that look on his face again. Lovestruck.
“Of course.” You give Sirius a funny smile, like this should be obvious. “Everyone has an aura,” you say, “we just can’t all see it all of the time.” 
“What’s yours look like?” James asks. 
Your lips part in surprise as you turn to look at him, your knee bumping his thigh. “I can’t see my own. I’d have to ask someone else.” 
“What about mine?” Sirius asks. 
You turn back to him. James feels the loss. “Right now, it’s mostly orange.” 
“Right now?” 
“Yours shifts a lot. A couple of minutes ago, it was pinker.” You tilt your head, considering. “You’re very sunset-y today, Sirius.” 
Sirius grins, and James knows that whatever his friend may think about auras, he’s going to carry that compliment with him for the rest of the week. “And what about our Jamesie? What’s his aura like?” 
“Oh, James’ almost never changes.” You look over at him with a small smile on your face. Maybe James is flattering himself, but he feels as though there’s a faintly secretive quality to it, like some part of your smile is just for him. “His is always yellow. Though I have been noticing a bit more red than usual lately.” 
James isn’t sure he can speak with your eyes on him like this. You’re so lovely it’s choking him. Thankfully, Remus comes to his aid. 
“Is that a good thing?” he asks. “It shifting, I mean.” 
You don’t turn away from James like he expects you’re going to. You hold his gaze, that smile broadening just slightly. It has all the soft radiance of moonlight. 
“I don’t think so,” you say. “It’s not making him any less himself, it only means that something has changed.” 
“Good god,” Sirius stage-whispers to Remus. “Look at him, we’ve lost him completely. Bet it gets redder every time he looks at her.” 
“It does, a little.” Your eyes flit upwards, presumably to colors which he can’t see but he imagines his face is starting to match. “It might be the serotonin boost. Looking at people you care about will do that.” You set a hand on top of his, thumb stroking over the knuckle of his pinkie finger. James’ mouth is a desert. “I’m happy to have James look at me if it makes him happy.” 
Sirius lets out a short laugh. “I’m sure it does, sweetheart. He’s—” 
Remus must elbow him, because he goes blessedly silent. 
“I’ve been wondering,” Remus says mildly, “do you give us different kinds of tea? They always look different from each other.” 
“Oh, yes.” You finally break your gaze away from James’, but your hand stays atop his. It’s hardly a whisper of a touch, and yet he’s very concerned you’re somehow absorbing every thought and feeling he’s having through some freaky osmosis. It doesn’t seem wholly out of the realm of possibility for you. “I make them with different ingredients for each of you.” 
Sirius quirks an eyebrow. “In that case, can I try a new one next time? This one tastes a bit like dirt.” 
You shrug, nonplussed. “If you like, but it might not do as much for you.” 
“What do you put in them?” Remus asks curiously. 
You take a sip of your own tea. “Just what you need.” 
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bunnycvnts · 1 month
Text
rafe being told ‘i love you’ for the first time!
pairing: rafe x reader
warnings: fluffy as fuck
his arm was tightly wrapped around you as the two of you lay in his plush bed, the curtains pulled closed, and his LED lights shone a soft purple color. rafes favorite movie played on the tv, but neither of you were paying attention, too wrapped up in the sweet kisses shared between you. your lips felt like warm, soft pillows pressing into his; he could never get enough of the way you kissed him. like if you kissed him too roughly, he’d pull away. you were always gentle, making sure every emotion was felt carefully through your lips, comforting his soul. that wasn’t to say you weren’t fervent sometimes, but you kept a kind of softness he’d never felt before.
you two had spent the entire day swaddled in blankets, switching between movies, sharing kisses and sweet whispers, and making sure you were as close as possible. his hand was either around your shoulder or splayed across your stomach or hips, never letting you far from his reach. he’d been struggling lately, with harmful thoughts and feelings clouding his brain, and his only escape was his pretty little girlfriend, who hadn’t had a care in the world. being with you was like floating; his worries went away, and all he could see was you. a bright light in his sea of darkness.
he wasn’t sure why you were with him and was constantly on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. for you to realize he was psychotic, angry, and hard to be around, like everyone else had. that you’d turn around one day and not look back, leaving him behind without a second thought. he wasn’t shy with his arguments or anger; he was never in the right mindset to hide it from you. but you’d never questioned him, only ever tried to calm him. you’d saved many people from feeling his wrath and saved him so many lectures from his father. you weren’t trying to change him; he knew that. you were just trying to ease the burden he felt weighing on his brain.
days like this were his escape with you. spending hours feeling your soft skin pressed against his, your warm breath on his neck anytime you’d whisper about the movie or giggle at his reactions, your fingertips trailing down his shirtless chest, tracing random scribbles and hearts onto his skin. the way you’d blush anytime his hands crept a little too close to your ass or wiggled their way under your shirt to feel your warmth. it was practically a fever dream for him. no one had ever spent so much time carelessly lying around with him, not worrying about what they’d do next, only enjoying the moment with him. the first girl to make him feel something without having to involve sex.
he was broken from his thought process by your fingers tapping against his cheek.
“whatcha thinkin’ about over there?” a soft smile was on your lips, and he sat up a little to get a better look at you.
“cheesy shit. got my mind all messed up, ya know?” his response had made you giggle—that redness he loved returning to your cheeks. you pursed your lips as a silent gesture to kiss you. his lips met yours with a quick, gentle touch, and he only pulled away slightly to look at you. you were looking right back at him, a look in your eyes he couldn’t pinpoint.
suddenly, you sat up, throwing your leg over his hip to straddle him, and ran your fingers through his hair while his hands met your hips and squeezed lightly. “you’re so handsome.”
your fingertips trailed his cheek, and your thumb pulled on his bottom lip. he groaned and rested his head back against the headboard. his stomach fluttering at your words and the softness they held.
“stop it.” he knew you meant it, but hearing it turned his heart into mush, and he could only let himself be so soft.
“i love you.” the confession spilled from your lips before you could stop yourself. rafes head snapped forward to meet your gaze, looking at you confused. it was your turn to groan, and you pushed yourself off of his lap.
“stop, don’t look at me like that.” you ran your hands through your hair, feeling somewhat distraught at his reaction. had it been too soon? did he not feel the same way? you peeked over at him, doing a double take at his watery eyes.
“hey, i’m sorry; i shouldn’t have just thrown that on you. i can go.” you rushed to sit up and get off the bed, but were stopped when he pulled you into him. he kissed you with all the softness he could muster, both of his hands on your cheeks.
“no. i’m sorry. no one has ever said that to me before. no one i thought really meant it, at least. i love you, too. seriously. as mushy and corny as that sounds.” his confession saddened you but warmed you at the same time.
you rested your head on his chest, pressing small kisses to his skin and muttering little ‘i love yous’ after each one. blood rushed to his cheeks, and little laughs fell from his lips when you’d kiss ticklish spots. he felt emotions he couldn’t describe, but his heart was racing and his stomach felt like a zoo was shuffling around in him.
he pulled you up by the collar of your shirt and kissed you again, whispering something against your lips.
“my fucking girl.”
taglist: @sunkissedrafe @cxsmiclore @mousie101 @ditzyzombiesblog @judessangel
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