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#there are so many seven clips in this
doorstovenus · 21 days
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it’s special interest time baby
beware of the extremely loud scream around 1:25 courtesy of miss melanie bush
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computer-wizard · 1 year
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just had this weird dream where i was reading the tvtropes article about a 90's harem anime / game (i will call it the rose eight because that's something the guy called the group) where the protagonist was the therapist of a group of nd girls in high school (everyone was the same age though) and for some reason i really liked it mostly because unlike most harem anime the girls were NOT interested in the guy like at all. like they would tease him but no one actually liked him. and the game was a dating sim but you could NOT date any of the girls. you would end the game by giving your target a bouquet of roses and which one you gave them influences which ending you got but the best ending was just the girl letting you down gently.
also the tvtropes article noted that the nd rep was pretty respectful for it's time
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i-am-aprl · 7 months
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[ID: A video clip showing a Black person in a green coat interviewing an elderly white person holding up a flag, with more protesters in the background displaying Palestinian flags.
The interviewer asks, "Why is it important for you to be here today?"
The protester responds, "Well, uh, I'm Jewish, I'm Israeli, my parents were the only survivors of their families from the Holocaust. They both survived Auschwitz. I'm not going to support genocide am I?
"I'm here with the Palestinians, and we are here with Palestine, because we don't believe that what the British government is doing is correct. The British government is supporting this genocide! It's arming Israel, it's financing Israel.
"BBC and the other media here is supporting genocide. This is illegal. This is immoral. We don't agree with it, we will never agree with it, and as Jews -- and myself as Israeli -- I am totally against it, and we will continue to be against it.
There are now more than 60 such events in the whole of Britain, uh, people don't want to support this. They are against this government on so many other issues, but especially on this one."
Another elderly white protester next to the first joins in, leaning forward to add:
"And, also, this didn't start on October the 7th. In 1948, Palestinian villages, hundreds of them --"
Another elderly protester interjects specifically, "500 of them".
The second protestor nods and continues, "were demolished, thousands of Palestinians, innocent men, women, and children were slaughtered, and seven-hundred and fifty thousand Palestinian refugees were created. That's when it started, and it hasn't stopped since!"
End ID.]
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lizardsfromspace · 1 year
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I do have to impress on anyone who wasn't around for it how batshit the reality boom of the 2000s could be. Especially on Fox.
Here are some 100% real 2000s reality shows:
Who's Your Daddy? A woman has to guess which of eight men is her biological father. One of them really is, and if she guesses right she wins $100,000. If one of the seven fake dads convinces her to guess them, he wins $100,000.
Black. White. A white family learns about racism by living a month in blackface, while a black family spends a month in whiteface. The black family was a real family, but the white family was just some actors hired to put on blackface to prove racism exists
Without Prejudice? Five strangers decide which of five strangers gets a cash prize based off clips and their answers to political questions. Cancelled when one of the choosers openly said he'd eliminate all black contestants
Welcome to the Neighborhood. Three conservative white families in a Austin subdivision decide which diverse family gets to move in. Unaired due to being literal housing discrimination
Seriously, Dude, I'm Gay. Two straight men try to pass themselves off as gay and whoever seems more gay gets $50,000. Unaired due to. Due to. Due to
Playing It Straight. A woman tries to find love among fourteen men, half of whom are straight and half of whom are gay, and she must eliminate two men she believes are gay each week. If she ended up picking a straight man in the end, they'd split a million dollars; if she picked a gay man, he'd win a million dollars
Boy Meets Boy. This was Playing It Straight but starring a gay man and he had to eliminate straight people
Who Wants to Marry a Multimillionaire? He wasn't a multimillionaire. He didn't even have a million dollars in liquid assets. He had a battery conviction Fox claims they didn't see. Because it was the 2000s, somehow this ended up with the woman he won being widely vilified and turned into a national punchline. How dare she complain about a massive corporation tricking her into marrying a lying abuser, good thing Matt Lauer's there to take her down a peg
The Swan. A "ugly" woman is given plastic surgery and wins a prize if she's the hottest at the end of the season. If she's not hot enough by the show's standards she's eliminated and called ugly on national TV
The Biggest Loser. Overweight people engage in competitive crash weight loss that often led to awful health complications. Studies showed basically everyone on the show regained any weight they lost once it was over and they didn't have abusive trainers demanding they take huge health risks to win a competitive weight loss competition. Like the others, this one was cancel-oh, it was a massive hit that ran for 18 seasons? Yikes!
Wife Swap and Trading Spouses. These were the same show and had a wife from one family go to another family that was different politically, racially, culturally, religiously etc. Most famous for the God Warrior
At the time people focused on the likes of Fear Factor but looking back it's wild how many of the worst shows toyed with politics. So many of these shows have a premise that's like "what if we exposed these conservatives to these people they hate?" or hyping themselves up as Important Experiments. Then they'd freak out when they got the kind of viral bigoted freakout they were trying to construct the whole time.
There were also a bunch of horrible reality shows, thankfully this time mostly unpopular, in the 2010s that based themselves around economic themes as a response to the market crash, but that's a story for another time
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seventh-district · 11 months
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okay time for another vent post or i’m gonna explode
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istg if i have to call another ambulance to come out here i might as well go ahead and call for two cause i’m gonna need one for myself as well
#Seven’s Public Diary#Seven.txt#cw sh mention#cw vent#and that’s not a threat i just really don’t think my body can handle much more stress!!! i’m reaching my limits besties!!!#i’m fine everythings fine btw. just struggling to come to terms with the fact that i’m likely gonna be stuck here taking care of my parents#for god knows how many years. with no one around to help me or comfort me and that’s.. not fun! it really sucks. and i don’t even know#if i can do it. i don’t know if i’m up to the task when i’m struggling to take care of myself as well. sigh.#it took everything i had to not fuckin throw myself at the very nice and understanding EMS guy and just cry my little eyes out lol#u know that u starved for an understanding support system when u get attached to the first guy that pops outta the back of an ambulance and#shows the first semblance of concern and ability to take charge and fucking help u out for once#anyways. all is fine now. and i’ll either get strong enough to be the person i need to be for the people around me. or i’ll die trying!#also. bit of advice. don’t beat the shit outta ur hand and then an hour later decide to re-shave ur undercut and exfoliate ur entire body#in the shower. cause u might not think abt it but those activities require both hands. well they really don’t cause i managed it with one#but they will take u so much longer to do. do u know how long it takes to wash hip-length hair with one hand. cause it takes a while!#and tiny little hair clippings and hot water and soap don’t feel good on broken skin either. that shit burns.#anyways. obligatory disclaimer that i am completely fine and want to be able to vent abt this shit in peace without anyone making a scene#i feel better now. all clean and warm and cozy and i’ve got lots of colorful little bandages on my fingies and that feels v nice#why did i spell fingers like that oh good lord. my regression tendencies r showing so its time to stop talking#oh and i’ve got boiled potatoes on the stove hell yeah. dunno what i’ll make with them yet but it’ll be good#also. Welly bandages have no right to be so nice. like. are they overpriced just cause they look really cute? maybe.#do they bring me unreasonable amounts of serotonin? yes absolutely. so i will keep buying them#also unrelated but shout out to the loudest crack of thunder i’ve ever heard in my goddamn life for waking me up this morning#was having a nightmare and let me tell u it’s not pleasant to be pulled out of one by the sound of thunder. very disorienting 0/10#early morning thunderstorms aren’t common so it was really strange. but. perfect weather to fit todays dark and turbulent tone#maybe they aren’t /un/common but i’m not used to early morning storms at least. idk why i associate them with afternoons and nighttime tho#shrugs. anywho. enough rambling. this has been today’s installment of…#‘Seven sees how much they can overshare before their mutuals start unfollowing them for being mentally ill on main all the time’#oh yeah. might as well throw in a Weather Report. uhhhhhh#Blood & Water by Memphis May Fire. it feels like that was the WR pretty recently but fuck it. it’s relevant again
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figueroths · 11 months
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I’m so close to yet again finishing starstruck and idk whether to rewatch fantasy high or watch a campaign I haven’t seen. these are my very real very serious problems 😭
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moralesispunk · 4 months
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I think you're either team ghost x civilian wife! reader where the rest of the 141 have no idea you exist or team they know and it's a very familial like and I'm the first one
simon who does everything he can to keep you his secret, even more so when your family starts to grow. when he's finished with a mission he will spend the next 48hrs barely sleeping, moving around to make sure no one is on his tail before making it home into your arms.
it's not that he doesn't trust the 141, but you and your family are far too precious to trust anyone with. you've heard the stories of all of the other men, are sure you would need only one look at them to be able to guess which man belongs to the many names he's told you over the years, but you're aware they don't know that you exist.
that on the rare nights simon ventures out to meet them for a sole pint between missions they think he's holed up in some bachelor flat back in manchester, perhaps with a string of women that come and go, but they couldn't be more wrong with his wedding band hidden under his gloves when he's home like now or safely in his drawer at home when he's on missions.
and it's not that he doesn't wish he could shout about you from the rooftops. everyone in your town knows that the big scary man whose face is always conveniently hidden in the shadows has a missus at home who brings your chubby babies to the toddlers and drops your kids off at school.
but the 141 don't know about you, not until enough time has passed since simon retired to consider it safe enough. simon with his aching joints and trembling hands, the ringing in his right ear and back pain that requires at least two, hour long soaks in the bath a week. simon the husband and dad who has butterfly clips in his hair and at least one nail painted from the game of hairdressers his oldest likes to play, a bright pink plaster on his knee to match the youngest, and one hand on your belly at all times with the third (and final in your opinion but simon is working on that) of your brood.
simon who is out for drinks with the 141 three years after retirement and slips and says something about moving house and the hassle, the rest of the men deciding they will help and so simon decides it's finally time. but he doesn't forewarn them about his family before the day, standing in the garden of your packed up house that your family has outgrown while the men stumble out of the van they hired only to stop dead in their tracks when they see you.
you who is waving in the doorway, a toddler on your hip and looking like you're about to pop while another child - maybe six or seven by their guesses - swings from simon's arm, with a dog jumping up paws on his chest. and like the man he is he doesn't explain, just jerks his chin towards the piles of boxes and empty moving van he's started to pack.
"think you can start making a move on that?"
a few hours later and still no explanation from simon, he's in the first van packed with all the furniture and bigger boxes with you and the kids and the guys follow behind, slack jawed and still confused as they stay speechless until they pull up at the new house.
they're still staring at you as you pile out of the first van and you're shaking your head, elbowing simon in the ribs and muttering a "put them out their misery, Si" and they swear they almost drop dead when they see how gently he handles you, an arm around your waist and a kiss to your temple as he guides you and the two gremlins towards the guys while the dog starts sniffing around its new home.
"fellas, this is the missus and kids," he says and you roll your eyes, holding out your hand towards them and introducing yourself by name, adding on the kids who beam up shyly at these strangers.
that seems to shake them out of it. john takes your hand first, shaking and turning to simon with a "you hide her away in case we try to steal her from you?" he winks and you and only grins wider when simon's hand on your hip seems to squeeze tighter. gaz and soap are bending down and coaxing your two girls out of their shyness, complimenting their light up trainers and asking if it makes them run faster before cheering them on as they run to the front door and back.
they set you up on a fold out chair and do all the heavy lifting as you point them and the boxes in their arms to their correct rooms. later, Simon treats them to dinner (a takeaway) and has you sitting on his knee with the girls in bed and for the first time he spends a night with the guys telling you stories of Simon "Ghost" Riley.
"they're lyin' love," he'll mumble in your ear at every story, "don't believe them do ya?" his hand strokes up your back, squeezing your neck.
"yeah, babe, believe you," you say while smiling at the men around your new dining room table, men who have saved your husbands life more times than he can count, and you find yourself curling closer to simon because of that
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likeumeanit9497 · 1 month
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the re-do | m.s. |
matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summary: y/n participates in the triplets' "dirty q&a" video, where she accidentally infers that her experience losing her virginity to matt back in high school had been mediocre. instead of taking offence, matt makes it his mission to show her just how much he has improved since then.
warnings: SMUT; established friendship; m/f oral; unprotected p in v; dirty talk; 18+
notes: hi guys! this is my first ever one shot so pls be gentle with me (i'm genuinely so terrified to post this). it has absolutely NOT been proof read forgive me, but i hope you all enjoy <333
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“Guys why am I actually nervous to film this?” Nick proclaimed from his place in the backseat of the car beside me. “No I am genuinely so scared right now.” Replied Chris from the seat in front of me as he began passing out our respective orders from McDonalds.
“We can’t act nervous or else the fans are gonna go even crazier than they already will.” Added Nick as Matt adjusted the camera on the dash. “You’re sure you’re gonna be able to handle the inevitable shit talking that’s gonna come from all this?” Matt asked as he turned to face me in the back. I took a deep breath but nodded. “The more they see me the more desensitized they’ll be. They’ll have to eventually get over it.”
As one of the triplet’s closest girl friends, I had been on the receiving end of a fair amount of hate from their fangirls on the internet. Because I had known them since elementary school, I had been a part of many of their earlier videos when their fans had still been pretty chill about our friendship. But over the past year, a new wave of younger fans had found the videos and had made it their life mission to publicly bash me any chance that they could. It became too much when, a few months ago, one of them decided to spread a rumour that Chris and I had slept together based on nothing other than strategically edited clips of us smiling at each other. It was then that the guys and I had made the decision to keep me as out of the public eye as possible.
However, the guys had sat me down last week to explain how fed up they were with how restricted they felt they had been in their content. They wanted to make an attempt at reclaiming a fandom built primarily of viewers closer to our age, and they thought that the best way to try that was to ignore the petty complaints and make content that they wanted to make. So, since I had been staying with them in Los Angeles for the month, I had agreed to not only be in one of their regular videos, but I had agreed to be in their ‘dirty q&a’ video. I couldn’t lie, I was a bit nervous, but mostly I was excited that my friends were finally confident enough to make videos with more extreme topics.
“Alright guys, ya’ll ready?” Chris asked, intaking a sharp breath while his hand hovered over the record button on the camera. We all responded with a falsely enthusiastic “ready!”, and the camera was turned on.
“Alright, first question,” Nick began after his long-winded introduction filled with disclaimers and explanations for their change in content. “How many people have you slept with?” Already with the first question, it was obvious that the guys were tentative about answering. “Bro I don’t know, next question.” Chris responded, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. “What do you mean by ‘I don’t know’ Chris?” Asked Matt tauntingly. “I mean I haven’t fucking kept track of everyone I’ve slept with.” He responded bluntly, before realizing how bad that had sounded. We all, however, erupted into laughter immediately. “Okay okay it’s not that bad guys I swear, I just have a bad memory is all.” He attempted to remedy his previous answer, but all three of us continued to laugh.
“Matt, how about you?” Asked Nick, to which Matt simply held up five fingers to the camera. “Same with me.” Nick agreed before turning to me. “Y/n? Spill it.” I rolled my eyes before answering truthfully. “Seven.” I shrugged, and I caught Matt’s smiley eyes through the rear view mirror.
“Alright next question is…” Chris was scrolling through the responses to their Instagram threads. “How old were you when you lost your virginity?”
“Sixteen” We all responded in unison, and immediately buckled over in laughter. “Not all at once though ya’ll.” Nick explained through his laughter, while mine and Matt’s eyes flew open and Chris’ laugh turned into hysterics. “Well…” Chris began before he was cut short by the three of us telling him to shut up. “I’m definitely gonna have to cut that one out. Sorry you two fools, I kind of set him up there.” Nick rolled his eyes as he looked between Matt and I.
Ironically enough, the fans had been half right in their rumour about Chris and I sleeping together. I had slept with one of the triplets before, but it wasn’t Chris.
When we were sixteen, Matt and I had decided that we wanted to lose our virginities to each other. It had been a no-strings-attached decision, and our friendship thankfully never wavered after it was done. Both Nick and Chris had already lost theirs that same year, and we had both just kind of wanted to get it over with. Obviously, this piece of information was known only by Matt and I, and of course Chris and Nick since they had barged into the room while we were in bed together. Even though the vindictive side of me would love to have the fans know this piece of information and shatter their dreams, I knew that the fallout would be an absolute nightmare.
“Okay let’s see…” I had been handed Nick’s phone to choose a question to answer and was scrolling through my options. “Here’s a simple one. Favourite position? Mine’s speed bump for sure.” I placed the phone down, satisfied with my confident answer, only to be met with multiple pairs of confused eyes. “I beg your pardon? The fuck is speed bump?” Asked Nick as he took his phone back. “The one where you’re kinda just lying flat on your stomach with the guy behind you. Trust me it’s chef’s kiss.” I responded simply. Chris’ facial expression turned from confusion to one of understanding. “Ohhh yeah that’s a good one.” He replied as he dapped me up. “Great, gonna have to edit that out too unless you want the rumours to get really bad again.” Nick said as he rolled his eyes. “Shit, sorry Nick.” Chris said, giggling slightly.
“Let’s just move on.” Matt said as he began scrolling on his own phone. “Best and worst sexual experiences.” He read off of his screen. There was a moment of silence while we all thought of our answers. “I had a girl throw up on my dick once. The problem is I don’t know if that makes it the worst or the best though.” Said Chris, earning a loud groan from each of us. “You’re sick.” Replied Matt, giving his brother a disgusted look.
“I mean I guess the worst sex would probably be my first time right? Like that makes sense right?” Asked Nick in an attempt to steer the conversation away from Chris’ confession, to which I nodded in agreed response without thinking. I caught Matt’s eyes in the rearview mirror again, this time seeing them filled with a pleading expression. Realizing what I had done, I silently prayed to the universe that my action would go unnoticed by the others. Unfortunately and unsurprisingly, my head nod didn’t make it past Chris, which was made incredibly clear when he mumbled to Nick behind his hand that was hiding his smiling mouth from the camera.
“Did you see that?” He asked, and Nick looked confused so he continued, “Y/n agreed with you about her first time.” He managed to get out before erupting into laughter at the expense of his brother. Matt threw his hands up in the air once Nick joined Chris in his giggling, and I winced from my place in the backseat; also mouthing an apology to Matt’s reflection in the mirror.
“Bro come on it was my first time! I guarantee you were trash your first time too.” Matt said in an attempt to repair his ego as he threw his empty cup at Chris. “Maybe so, but I don’t have the girl who I lost it to here in the car to confirm it.” Chris snarked back, playfully nudging Matt’s shoulder. “We all gotta start somewhere dude.” He added when Matt didn’t respond. As Nick continued choking on his own laughter, Matt crossed his arms and stared out the window, very clearly wishing he was anywhere but there in that moment.
“Okay okay,” Nick began catching his breath. “We need to cool it because 90% of that what we just filmed is completely unusable. Let’s please just try to make it through this video without exposing Matt and Y/n’s bumpy sexual history again.” He pleaded as he began scrolling through his phone to find new questions.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
“God, that was rough.” Said Chris as we all climbed out of the parked car. We had finally finished the video. It took us an hour to film, and would still be edited down to just twenty minutes of content where we weren’t exposing big secrets or directly fuelling past rumours.
“At least it’s done. It might be a while before I ever want to do that again.” Nick responded as he opened the garage door leading into their house. “Agreed.” Added Matt from behind me as we climbed the stairs to the main level. We all walked over to the fridge to grab drinks, as if the beverages would clean our dirty mouths.
“Alright,” Chris began after a hefty chug from his Pepsi, “I’m going to my room. Matt, Nick, get on Fortnite with me.” He began descending the stairs. “I’ll get on once I shower Chris. I have a desperate need to scrub this FILTH off of my body.” Replied Nick, and he began walking towards the stairs leading to his bedroom. “Y/n, come upstairs whenever you want to go to sleep and I’ll get off the game.” He called over his shoulder as he disappeared at the top of the stairs.
Matt and I were left alone in the kitchen, him sitting at the table and me sitting on top of the counter in between the stove and the fridge. Swinging my legs carelessly, I decided to break the silence first. “I’m really sorry about all of that in the car Matt. I didn’t mean it.” He looked up at me and chuckled. “Yes you did, and it’s not a big deal. I know I wasn’t great back then.” He responded before taking a drink from his can. I smiled softly at his response but decided to leave it be. There was no use in trying to deny it. The sex was just boring, short, and awkward; the way that most first times are. At least he didn’t take any offence to it.
“You know,” He began after a few moments of silence, his eyes shooting to mine as he stood up from his place at the kitchen table. “I’ve gotten much better.” A playful smirk travelled to his lips as he began walking towards my frozen figure on the counter. He stopped just a few short centimetres away from me, so close that I could reach out and touch any part of him that I wanted. I couldn’t tell if he was fucking with me, until I felt his early signs of arousal press lightly against my knee.
My throat was dry, and I felt like a deer in headlights. Even though Matt and I had slept together when we were younger, the dynamic was much different than now. The proposition came about awkwardly, and we were a fumbling mess with very little understanding of how it felt to be aroused. But in this moment, I was very very aroused just from this conversation.
In my silence, he placed a firm hand on my hip, rubbing his thumb across it gently. “I can do just about anything. Just let me know how you want it and I can give it to you.” My stomach did a somersault at his words, and I felt my panties dampen. He used his free hand to push my legs apart so that he could stand in between them, and my limp hands subconsciously moved up to grab onto his shoulders. At the first sign of my willingness, Matt quickly leaned forward and peppered soft, teasingly slow kisses along my neck. His lips travelled up to my ear, where he bit the lobe playfully before whispering, “Well, tell me. How do you want me Y/n?”
His words caused me to clench on nothing and I nearly moaned from the anticipation. With him still waiting on my response I whispered back, “You can do anything you want to me, Matty.”
Without missing a beat, he attacked my lips with his own and I melted from the immediate relief. I moved my hands from his shoulders up to the base of his head, and as his tongue danced along with mine I pulled gently at his messy hair; my own mouth filling with a moan falling from his lips. His right hand traveled up my grey hoodie to find that I had nothing on underneath, and he lightly brushed the bottom of my left tit with his thumb. Suddenly his hands moved from under my shirt and gripped my ass as he effortlessly lifted me off the counter and into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he stumbled towards his bedroom.
Once inside the undisturbed room, he placed me down on his desk, my ass hitting the mouse and causing the computer to turn on; casting a light on the otherwise dark room. He wasted no time in removing my hoodie, leaning me back slightly so he could easily twirl his tongue along each nipple. I hummed in pleasure from the warm, wet sensation of his mouth connecting to my skin, and brought my hand down in between our bodies to softly run my hand up and down his clothed hardness. After a few moments, he pushed my hand away and dropped to his knees in between my legs.
Pulling my grey sweats off my body and pushing my thong to the side in one quick motion, Matt took a moment to relish in my swollen, dripping hole. “I don’t remember you being this wet for me last time.” He smirked as he looked up at me with blown out pupils. “Let’s see if you taste the same.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head at his filthy words, and a moan slipped from between my lips as his mouth made sloppy contact with my sensitive bud. I subconsciously grabbed onto the back of his head, suffocating him with my heat as he continued to suck and kiss my clit. As his tongue worked on my nerves, he released a guttural moan that vibrated against my heat, causing my back to arch at the intense feeling.
When we had done this all of those years before, Matt’s movements were lacking in confidence. He had fumbled around my clit blindly, and had ate me out cautiously as if he was afraid of hurting me. Now, this Matt had clearly gained experience, as my stomach was already beginning to fill with the familiar pressure from the build up of an orgasm once I watched him find all of my most sensitive spots; his eyes blissfully closed.
Suddenly, he pulled his mouth away from my heat and I groaned at the loss of contact. He straightened his body back up to my level and brought his face so close to mine that our noses were touching. “Kiss me. I want you to know how good you taste.” He whispered through his glistening bright red lips. More on fire than I had ever been in my life, I immediately attached my open mouth to his, moaning at the distinct taste of my sweet arousal on his tongue. As we deepened the kiss, his fingers found my heat and he ran two of them up and down my folds to collect my wetness before slamming them into my cunt; finding my spongey g-spot on the first pump with his curled fingers.
My head rolled back, lost in the euphoric feeling of his fingers filling me up, and he watched my facial expressions intently as the wet sounds of my upcoming orgasm filled the space between us. “Holy fuck, Matt.” I slurred, my voice coming out choppy as his fingers continued to relentlessly pound into me; never losing contact with that one spot that drove me crazy. “I-I’m gonna-” I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the very beginning of my orgasm roll over my body.
Suddenly, all of his movements stopped and my eyes shot open out of frustration. In the time since my eyes had screwed shut, his own had darkened in arousal. My body trembled from the sudden halt in its pleasure, and he smirked at me. “You want to cum, sweetheart?” He asked, his kind words a harsh paradox to his sinister expression. Still, I nodded eagerly to which he pulled his fingers out of me completely before leaning up and placing his wet mouth right against my ear.
“You’re gonna fucking wait for me.”
I attempted to squeeze my legs together to take some pressure off of my throbbing, unsatisfied core as his vulgar words scrambled my brain, before he pulled me off the desk and pushed my head down so that I was now the one on my knees. Confused, I looked up to find him gazing down at me. He gestured towards his clothed member. “Go ahead.” I grinned slyly.
My turn.
I had made an attempt at giving him head the first time we had sex. Just like him, I had struggled with confidence due to the sole fact that I had no clue what I was doing. Since then, I had had plenty of practice, and I was excited to now be the one to show him my improvements.
I grabbed onto the waist band of his pyjama pants and pulled them down to his knees. With only his tight red boxer shorts covering it now, the outline of his thick cock and the small wet spot at its tip from his pre-cum made my mouth water. I brought my mouth up to the skin on his lower stomach, right above the Calvin Klein logo on his boxers, and began peppering excruciatingly slow kisses along the light sprinkling of hair there. I glanced up at him through my eyelashes to find him peering down at me with curious lust, his mouth open slightly and his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.
After a short while, I grabbed his boxers and pulled them down to meet his pants at his knees. His hardened cock smacked his stomach on its release from the tight material, where it left a wet patch from his pre-cum. Grabbing it with my left hand, I collected a pool of saliva in my mouth and stared up at him as I let it all drip down his swollen member. After pumping my hand for a few strokes, I placed only the tip in my mouth as I watched his eyes dilate. I swirled my tongue teasingly along the swollen tip, tasting the the saltiness of his fluid. Eventually, I began pumping my hand up and down his shaft in rhythm with my head bobbing along the top half of his cock. He shifted on his feet at the new sensation and let his head fall back. I kept my pace agonizingly lazy, knowing that it would drive him crazy.
With my tongue, I licked a strip from the base of his ball sack, up his shaft, and to his tip, earning a hushed whimper from his lethargic mouth before he grabbed my hair and shifted his hips. Looking down at me and holding my head firmly in place, he began thrusting his hips as he kept me still. He started slow, but when he realized that I could take more his pace began to pick up and his cock began to hit deep in my throat. I looked up at him through my tear-filled eyes, and saliva began to drip down my chin. “Fuck you look so good with my cock in your mouth.” He grunted out through each thrust. I lifted my hand to cup his balls, giving them gentle squeezes that seemed to send him towards his climax.
As a moan fell from his lips, he pulled my head back so that his dripping cock sprung free before he got the chance to fill my mouth with his cum. He stood there for a moment with his eyes closed taking deep breaths as if he was fighting the urge to finish right then, before he opened his eyes and gazed down at me. “Get on the bed.”
I pulled myself up off the ground and, on shaky legs, walked over to his bed with him following close behind. Once I reached the edge of the bed he stopped me, turning me around to face him and pushing me down so I would sit. “Put your feet on the bed and pull your knees up to your chest.” He commanded, and I did as I was told, albeit I was a bit confused. “Good girl.” He praised me as he pulled me right up to the edge of the bed before pushing my legs further apart.
Placing one of his knees on the bed beside me, he lined his cock up with my entrance; rubbing it tantalizingly along my wetness. Placing one arm around my waist to brace my body, he slowly pushed his cock inside of me right there on the edge of the bed. His trusts were slow but harsh, and the position he had placed us in made it so that my cervix was barrelled into each time his hips met mine. He placed his sweat-coated forehead against my collar bone and released small breathless grunts with each deep thrust. “So fucking good Matt. Oh god.” I whined as his pace began to increase in speed. He planted his teeth into my shoulder as we fell back onto the bed; his body now completely on top of mine as he continued to drive into me.
He lifted his head and looked fixedly at my fucked out face, his eyes glossed over in erotic pleasure. With this visual, I was brought back to the first time we had fucked, in a position so similar to this one. His rhythm was slower and much more tentative, and we were both certainly much less pleasing to the other, but still I suddenly got hit with a wave of recognition in how much we had both grown since then.
I was pulled out of my trance by Matt’s commanding voice. “Move back real quick and get on your stomach.” I did as I was told, feeling the emptiness that came from his dick sliding out of my soaking wet pussy. Assuming he wanted me in doggy, I got on my knees and arched my back; my head and shoulders pressed firmly against the soft mattress. I felt the bed move as he climbed on all the way, and in a moment of animalistic desperation I pushed my needy cunt subconsciously back to meet heat of his cock.
“No.” He stated simply, his veiny hands massaging my ass. Confused, I looked over my shoulder as I waited for him to explain. He had an ominous smile as he moved his gaze from my fully exposed cunt to my face. “I wanna see if your favourite position is really worth the hype.” He used his hands on my ass to push it down flat to the bed before adjusting himself so that he could line up correctly. Still looking over my shoulder with glazed eyes, I watched his expression as his cock sunk into my core once again. His jaw was clenched tightly and his eyelashes fluttered slightly from the new sensation that the position gave him as he bottomed out. “Oh fuck.” His eyes were fully shut now as he stayed still for a moment. Small beads of sweat traveled down his stomach as I took in the beauty of the man who was making me feel so so good.
Getting turned on even more just from Matt’s visual pleasure, my walls clenched subconsciously and I whined, “Please keep going Matty.” His eyes snapped open and landed on mine, before he leaned forward — one hand beside my head and the other planted firmly to the small of my back — and began pounding into me relentlessly.
The depth of this position allowed me to feel every inch of his cock, and it became impossible to keep the moans and strings of profanity from escaping my lips. This seemed to be the case for Matt too, as over the sounds of my own moans and the wet sounds of our bodies connecting, I could hear the gruff throaty moans of his own pleasure. “Fuck. You’re so fucking tight Y/n.” Even though I was aware that we were both making far too much noise that Chris and Nick would definitely hear, I couldn’t get myself to bring it to Matt’s attention, as the animalistic vocalization of his indulgence was bringing me closer and closer to my climax.
“I-I need to cum Matty.” I managed to vocalize as my nerves began to unravel. “Hold it. Want you to cum with me.” He responded, leaning even further forward so that his body was practically lying on top of mine. He took a free hand and wrapped it around my throat, lightly squeezing the sides as my pleasure became dangerously close to bubbling over.
“P-Please cum for me. I can’t hold it anymore.” I begged, digging my nails into his silk bedsheets and feeling my walls quiver each time he drove his cock into my cervix. His breathing became hitched in my ear and his movements became sloppier. Biting my ear, he asked, “Where do you want me to cum, Y/n?”
Without wasting time, I moaned my response. “Cum in me please. Want you to fill me with it.” At that, Matt slammed his twitching cock into me a few more times before finally telling me what I so desperately needed him to.
“Okay sweetheart. Go ahead and make a mess for me.” Even before his words fully left his dirty mouth, I gave into the overbearing pressure in my stomach and felt my intense orgasm over-take me. Practically screaming his name, my pussy convulsed uncontrollably. I felt the immediate relief and heard the gush as I squirted along his cock and down his legs. “Jesus.” He moaned out as his body suddenly stilled. As my legs shook, I could feel his cock twitching inside of me; painting my walls with his cum.
After we both came down from our highs, catching our breath and reconnecting with our minds, Matt slowly pulled his dick — freshly bathed in my own juices — out of my swollen core. With a satisfied sigh, he threw his body onto the bed beside mine. Both of us laid there for a moment, facing one another with glazed over expressions, before a shameless smile crept onto Matt’s face.
“Well you definitely didn’t squirt the last time we slept together.” He chuckled proudly, and I knew his ego had been inflated. I rolled my eyes. “Well, you didn’t whimper the last time we fucked either.” It was my turn to smile as he covered his face bashfully. We laid there in silence for a moment, both of us lethargic and fucked out.
“If that was anything like when ya’ll lost your virginities then I am extremely impressed.”
Matt and I both shot our heads up and looked around the room for the origin of that familiar voice. We were alone, but my eyes focused on the lit-up computer. On the screen, Matt’s Discord was open to the group with Nick and Chris. I turned to look at Matt, who had also clearly made the same discovery that I had, and whispered, “Did you for real leave the channel unmuted?” He tucked his lips together and shrugged apprehensively, before climbing off the bed and over to the computer.
“Chris, how much of that did you hear?” He asked into his headset. I heard a laugh through the mic. “Oh Matt, I heard it all. Good work. I’m a proud brother.” I covered my face in embarrassment as Matt rolled his eyes. “Fuck off. You’re a perv.” He mumbled to his brother, but I caught the small smile that tried to creep to his lips.
“I’m gonna need a fucking lobotomy to get over the trauma that I was just put through.” I heard Nick’s voice now through the mic and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Bro you could have just left the server, you act like I forced you to listen to the entire thing.” Matt argued with his older brother. “You think I stayed and listened to the ENTIRE thing? What are you crazy?” I was full out laughing now, despite the embarrassment. “I left as soon as I figured out what was happening, but I still heard waaaay too much.” Matt laughed now and muted his mic — perhaps a bit too late — then walked back to where I was on the bed, propped up on my forearms.
“Whoops.” He simply said as he pulled his boxers back up. I shook my head and smiled shyly. “We are literally never going to be able to live that down.” I replied as he draped his body along the bed beside me again. Rubbing his eyes awkwardly, he shrugged softly. “Well, at least they’re gonna have to stop teasing me about my skills.” I smacked his arm playfully and he responded by grabbing me swiftly and pulling me to his side.
“You were impressed, weren’t you?” He asked teasingly, as he held me close. I closed my eyes and sighed, “I was, Matt. Really, really, impressed.” He giggled into my neck at my truthful response and I swatted him once again.
“I’m glad we got our re-do. I’d been wanting that for a while.” He said after a moment. I looked at him with a smile and ruffled his hair. “Me too, honestly. I always knew you had some potential in you.” I teased.
“Well, if you don’t want to have to face Nick right now, you’re welcome to sleep in here tonight.” He offered and I sighed in relief. “That would be great, actually.” I said as I began to sit up. “Let’s get cleaned up first though.” He began as he got up and grabbed us both towels from his closet, “You’re not allowed to get under my sheets until you wash my children off your thighs.” My eyes shot open at his disgusting choice of words and I quickly covered myself with my towel. “Matthew Bernard you are sick!” I exclaimed as we both headed towards his bathroom. “Sure am. But so are you.”
He pulled me into a hug while we stood in the bathroom waiting for the shower to warm up. As he rubbed circles on my back with his hand, I sighed. “I think this is the secret to good friendship.” He chuckled before asking, “What is?” Playfully, I smacked his ass over his boxers. “Fucking the shit out of each other once in a while.” He laughed and pulled away from the hug before getting into the shower; leaving the glass door open so that I could follow him. “Shut your weird ass up and get in the shower with me, friend.”
2K notes · View notes
koushuwu · 1 year
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how many gifs can one woman make of the same little guy? the answer is a lot.
0 notes
thef1diary · 4 months
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Little Big Fan | Three
— Little Big Race
Series Masterlist
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wc: 2.4k
Usually, you had a hard time waking your daughter up, and unfortunately she got that habit from you. It was something your mother laughed at a lot whenever you told her about it. She would always say, "you were a troublesome child so now you have a troublesome child but she's cuter."
Today was a different story, Isabella was the one waking you up. "Mama, mama, mama, wake up, we have to see Maxy race today!" She jumped up and down on the bed even though you've tried to tell her not to.
Groaning, you peeked out the blanket to see the biggest toothy smile on your daughter's face and it should've been enough to wake you up. You looked over and saw the time, it was way too early for her to be this energetic. You still have no idea how she musters up so much energy in her little body.
"Bella, qualifying is seven hours away, let's sleep a little longer?" You asked and easily wrapped your arms around your little one. Covering her in the blanket, you hoped to at least get another hour of sleep.
It took her less than two minutes to fall back asleep in her mother's arms. That habit, was from her father who never had an issue of being unable to sleep quickly.
The hour passed by rather quickly, and this time Isabella woke up as soon as she felt you getting off the bed. The giddy excitement was still there and rightfully so but it was a little calmer than an hour ago.
Since you only had to order room service instead of cooking breakfast, the morning was a lot less stressful for you. As soon as Isabella was finished eating breakfast, she ran to her little suitcase and took out her outfit for the day.
Once you helped her change, your little girl was decked in a blue dress with red glittery clips in her hair according to her wishes, her reason being, "Maxy always wears red and blue."
Soon enough, you two were enroute towards the track. You had gotten your passes when you first checked in at the hotel because Max had dropped them off before you arrived.
It was simple enough finding your way towards the entrance, but it was a whole different story after. There were so many people, albeit less than outside, and they all looked like they knew where they were going.
Holding Isabella's hand tightly, you continued walking in hopes to figure out where you're supposed to go. "Where's Max, mama?" Your daughter asked but you didn't have an exact answer.
"Hopefully somewhere around here, angel." You contemplated calling him, unsure whether or not he'd be busy. But then again, if he is then he won't pickup so there was no harm in trying.
Keeping your gaze on Isabella, you called him. After two rings, he picked up, "Hi, I was just about to call you, are you here?" You could hear him panting on the other end as if he ran to pick up your call, but you decided not to comment on it.
"Yeah, I don't know exactly where we are though," He laughed on the other end, "it's okay, just describe the area and I'll come find you." 
You did as he instructed and Max was walking towards you within three minutes. However, he was not alone, there was another man in different coloured teamwear walking next to him. 
Isabella's smile grew when she spotted Max but since you were holding her hand, she couldn't run towards him. Max crouched down and held his hand up so Isabella could give him a high-five. 
The man standing next to him the same, and Isabella was mesmerized, gasping, "Daniel Ricciardo." She probably butchered the pronunciation of his surname but he didn't seem to mind.
Max shook his head, "no, Isabella, he's Daniel Avocado." The comment made Daniel burst out laughing, and you couldn't help but join in. 
The sound of your laugh directed Max's gaze towards you and once it was on you, it was stuck there. Even when Daniel nudged him and asked, "introductions?" 
A few seconds passed by without Max saying anything so to save him from further embarrassment, Daniel decided to take the liberty of introductions. Once you introduced yourself to him, Daniel had a knowing smile on his face. 
"So you're the one who's daughter ran away because of Max," he chuckled while your cheeks grew red in embarrassment, "unfortunately yes, how did you hear about that?" You asked, having an idea that Max probably told him.
But the answer Daniel gave you was surprising, "I've heard the story around ten times so far since someone keeps bringing you up in conversations." 
Max's eyes widened but you laughed, "is that so? Well Isabella hasn't stopped talking about Max either." 
You and Daniel collectively looked at Isabella who was still starstruck by not one but two drivers, the shock of being in the paddock finally catching up to her. Then the two of you looked at Max, who was also unusually quiet according to Daniel, and burst out laughing once again.
"Looks like both of them had too much to say and now it's not enough," Daniel commented and you agreed with a nod. "Your daughter is adorable by the way," he added to fill the silence and nudged Max harshly when you looked at her. 
"How about I show you around?" Max finally found his words, and you looked at him skeptically, "I don't want to take up your time if you have something else to do." 
"I've got some time, plus it would be very unfair if you came all the way here and I didn't spend time with you and Isabella." Max didn't wait for a response from you, instead turning his gaze towards your little one, "right?" 
Isabella gave him a sharp nod, and you couldn't help but smile as you saw the two interact. "Alright then, lead the way." 
It took him thirty minutes to show you around the paddock, but he mainly focused on the RedBull Energy Center, as that was where all the driver's guests could relax and enjoy some team catered meals.
Isabella asked him all sorts of questions, and Max even stopped for an extra minute to grab some noise cancelling earmuffs for her little ears. 
Your eyes widened when he placed them on her head, mentally cursing at the fact that out of all the things you could've forgotten, it was the headphones. Once again, before you could hide your expression, Max noticed it and muttered, "it's okay, that's why we have them here." 
He explained that since it was his home grand prix—something you didn't know until he mentioned it—most of the fans were rooting for him. 
Then, Max was approached by someone from his team, telling him that he was needed back in the garage. The rest of the day passed by quite fast. You watched qualifying from the hospitality as per Max's suggestions. 
As the session continued, you slowly understood some of the terminology, but it would still take a few more races to fully understand what is going on. On the other hand, Isabella clapped happily every time Max's RedBull passed by, and you even joined her after a few times. 
It is race day. You and Isabella were back in the paddock and this time you had figured out where to go. You were proud of yourself for navigating the area after only being shown around once. You reached later than you hoped due to the traffic, but fortunately, there was still a while before the race began.
Max had told you to meet him near the garages and when you neared them, you could see him speaking expressively to a small group of people. Based on their outfits, you knew they were drivers. The only one you remembered other than Max was Daniel, as you've met him yesterday. 
"Mama, walk faster," your daughter urged, her pace fastened as soon as she spotted Max, tugging you along. You were glad that she didn't leave your hand. 
"Maxy!" Your daughter cheered as soon as she was in hearing range of the drivers. They all collectively turned towards the noise, Max's face lighting up as soon as his gaze landed on you two. 
"Isabella!" Max cheered with the same amount of energy, and you let go of your daughter's hand so she could run up to him. 
He greeted you as well, taking a step closer to you and with a sheepish smile on his face he spoke, "I got something for her." Max said quietly enough so Isabella didn't hear him, since he wanted your approval first before he revealed his surprise. 
You nodded, encouraging him and with a big smile he placed a cap on Isabella's head, surprising her. She took it off to look at it and when she saw his driver's number on the cap, she gasped.
Then, she placed it back on her head and turned to look at you, "mama, look!" You chuckled, "very nice, what do you say, angel?" 
Isabella didn't think twice before hugging him, "thank you, thank you, thank you!" 
Max held out another cap for you, and before you could say anything he added, "I need everyone to know who you're cheering for." Deciding to tease him you responded, "what if I want to cheer for Daniel?" 
You saw his smile drop, making you break out into a smile to let him know you were just joking. You pointed to the number on the cap, "number 1 driver, yeah,” you stated, the implication of him being the number one driver both literally and figuratively was heard loud and clear.  
"Mama," Isabella grabbed your attention, pointing at the driver in a red suit that you've yet to be introduced to. "Lightning McQueen," she added, making the group of drivers around you laugh at her words. 
Charles pointed at himself, "me?" he looked at you for an answer and you nodded, "yeah, can you really blame her though, you're all decked out in red." 
As if you were lying, he looked down and then shrugged, "fair." 
Isabella was content with being the center of attention between the drivers that you now know the names of; Charles, Lando, Alex, and George.
Max pulled you aside. "I wanted to ask you this yesterday but we didn't have time. Do you think Isabella would like it if I let her sit inside my car?" 
Your mouth quite literally dropped open, and you had to blink a few times as if it would make you understand his words better. "Huh?" is all that left your mouth. 
"My car? Is she going to like it?" He asked again and you nodded, "she would love that, are you even allowed to do that?" 
He chuckled at your question, "it's my car, I think I can do anything I want with it." 
Before he could turn around to speak to Isabella, you reached for his hand to stop him, "Max, you have no idea how much this would mean to her." He nodded in understanding, "make sure to take lots of pictures." 
You heard her squeal in excitement as soon as Max asked the question, watching her eagerly nod. You followed them into the garage, heart warming at how Max held Isabella's hand the entire time. 
With the way Isabella hasn't stopped smiling, you would think her smile was permanently stuck on her face. You took loads of pictures, a few even with Max's helmet on her head that was way too big for her. 
Even the team principal, Christian Horner, stopped for a moment to look at the joy on both Isabella and Max's face. It would make one think that it was Max’s first time around a F1 car as well.
By the time the race started, Isabella's energy had significantly drained, but she remained awake for the entirety of the race. Watching the race from the garage unlocked a different joy on her face, and she would cheer when Max came into the pits for fresher tyres. 
As soon as her eyes drooped, something would occur in the race that would cause her to brighten up again. Max barely had to overtake as he started off in pole position, only needing to pass the other drivers after coming out of the pitlane. 
Just like Isabella, your eyes didn't waver away from the race despite how fast your heart was beating due to nervousness about the drivers' speeds. 
You knew they were the best of the best, very professional, but ever since you've gotten to know them personally, you couldn't help but worry for them. Especially Max. 
Turns out, you didn't have to worry too much as Max crossed the finish line first, winning the race in front of his home crowd. 
Everything after that was a blur. You just remember Christian leading you towards the crowd underneath the podium, ensuring that no one had the audacity to push or shove you. Isabella was safely in your arms, watching the celebrations with wide but sleepy eyes. 
As soon as she saw the trophy being handed to Max, she rested her head on your shoulder and was out like a light. 
Once the champagne was sprayed, you made your way through the crowd, walking towards the exit. Your daughter was sound asleep and you didn't want the noise waking her up and disturbing her much needed rest. 
Other than the one extra hour of rest in the morning, she hadn't taken any naps since she was mesmerized by everything around her. Now, since it was all over, all you focused on was getting back to the hotel. 
As soon as Isabella was comfortably in bed, you decided to take a shower to wash away all the built up and dried sweat. While you were busy, your phone rang with two calls, both from Max, that were inevitably sent to voicemail. 
After your shower, you ordered some food and turned on the tv in the other room. Around fifteen minutes went by before there was a knock on your door. Thinking it was room service with your dinner, you opened it without checking who it really was.
Max was stood on the other side, changed out of his race suit but still in a Redbull polo.
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moonstruckme · 6 months
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love the doctor!remus content!!!
would love to read about him in a similar setting as the last request u did, where reader doesn’t tell him she‘s had to go to urgent care (maybe she lost her phone) and he‘s in his big scary attending mood but the moment he steps into the room and realizes reader is the patient he goes all concerned and cooing and all the interns are confused as to what happened to calm collected and kinda cool doctor lupin :((((
Thanks love!
cw: hospital, mention of stitches
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You can hear him talking as he moves down the line of small curtained-off rooms, your heart contracting at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice but too shy to interrupt him while he’s working. Remus’ tone is clipped and all business, and you can tell by how quickly his voice draws closer that he’s striding toward you in that brisk way he does when he’s busy. 
“This one’s already been treated,” he’s saying to someone, “so we’re just checking in before discharge. Let me ask some of the necessary questions first, and then we’ll ask the patient’s permission for you to ask some as well.” 
He looks nearly imposing as he whips open the curtain, clipboard in hand and a gaggle of what you guess must be residents on his heels. That all drains away, along with the blood in his face, when he sees you. “Dove?”
“Dove?” you hear one of the residents echo bemusedly. 
“Hi,” you say sheepishly. 
Remus steps toward where you sit on the bed, concern etched into the twin lines between his brows. “Honey, what happened? You” —he looks down at his clipboard, flustered— “you got stitches in your hand? What’d you need stitches in your hand for?” 
You glance between the many sets of eyes in the room, self-conscious in the face of so much attention. “I cut myself,” you answer quietly. 
Remus lowers the clipboard, looking devastated for you. “Why didn’t you call me?” he asks, but the reprimand in his tone is barely detectable behind all the fondness coating it. He holds out a hand. “Let me see.” 
You give him your hand obediently, doing your best to follow his example and ignore the murmurings from your small audience. He’s painstakingly careful as he removes the bandages to reveal your cut. It looks far better than it had when it had been bleeding all over your car on the drive over, but Remus still coos like it's the most grievous injury he’s seen in his career. 
“Seven stitches?” His lips turn down into a pout. “What’d you do to yourself, dovey?” 
You see one resident’s eyebrows fly up at the sappy pet name, exchanging a look with the one next to him. 
“I was trying to cut up the squash I bought last week,” you explain, unsure if you’re supposed to be talking to the room but directing your words only to your boyfriend, “and my knife slipped. I was going to call you when it wouldn't stop bleeding, but my phone died. I didn’t have time to charge it before I came.” 
Remus makes a gruff, reluctant sound of approval. “Well, I’m glad you came but I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you. Did it hurt very badly?” 
“Not really,” you lie quietly, but one of the residents behind you goes, “Doctor Lupin, is that one of the necessary questions we’re meant to be asking?” 
You flush, and Remus shifts modes in an instant, his look severe as he turns on the smart aleck. “No,” he says drily. “But this is still the portion where you’re meant to be quiet.” 
You sort of feel for the resident as they nod abashedly. Remus countenance warms again as he turns back towards you. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he says, still cradling your injured hand in his.
“It wasn’t too bad.”
“Baby.” Remus’ brows scrunch together, the sympathy in his eyes almost too much for you to bear. “I can tell you’ve been crying, darling.” 
“Remus,” you chide embarrassedly, looking again to the residents gathered behind him. 
“Ah.” He drops a hand to your knee for an apologetic squeeze, turning to face your observers with more of an authoritative air. “Go find somewhere else to be,” he tells them. 
They scatter like mice, and Remus huffs when the last one out doesn’t shut the curtain, stepping away from you to draw it closed himself. 
“Sorry, I sort of forget they’re there sometimes,” he explains, but he’s already doubling down on the sweetness now that they’re gone, bringing your injured palm to his lips for a very, very gentle kiss. “Did you cry while they stitched you up, honey?” 
You might cry again now if he keeps looking at you like that. “A little,” you admit. “I was being a tad dramatic.” 
“I doubt that,” he says, thumb stroking lovingly over the line of stitches before picking up the bandage and beginning to rewrap it. “Hand wounds are no light thing. It probably bled a lot, hm?”
“There may be some cleanup waiting for me in both the kitchen and my car,” you joke. Remus gives you a small smile for your efforts. 
“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it when I get home.” He finishes bandaging your hand and leans in to kiss your cheek. When he pulls back, his eyebrows have bunched again. “You’ve got mascara tracks on your cheeks,” he murmurs, cupping your face and brushing his thumb over the plane of your cheekbone. “S’breaking my heart.” 
“Sorry,” you say bashfully, and he rolls his eyes at you, pecking you again on the cheek like he can’t help himself. 
“What’re you sorry for, hm? Well,” he seems to reconsider, “you ought to be sorry about your knife skills, but that’s an apology you owe yourself, not me. I’ll be stowing all the knives where you can’t reach them from now on, by the way.” 
“First you’ll have to deal with all the residents you just disillusioned,” you tease him back. “Seems like they used to think you were cool and blase, but not anymore.” 
Remus shrugs. “People are multifaceted. If they didn’t know that already, then I taught them something today after all.” He gives you another soft look, though it’s far less worried than the others had been. “My poor darling,” he laments, setting his hands on either side of you to plant one final kiss on your forehead. “Rest here for a bit, and I’ll come get you in a few minutes, yeah?” 
“Okay, thanks,” you agree readily, happy to have a ride home considering the state you left your car in. “Gonna go try to restore your street cred with the residents?” 
“Dove, don’t be silly,” he says on his way out. “They worship me.” 
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woso-dreamzzz · 23 days
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Miracle II
Aitana Bonmatí x Baby!Reader
Summary: Aitana babyproofs
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The first night you are with her...
Well, the first night you are with her as a Bonmatí, is a stressful one.
You cry.
And then you stop.
Then you cry again when she sets you down for bed.
It's still early by Atiana's standards but it's gone seven and all the baby books say it's perfect bedtime for little babies.
But you just don't seem to want to settle and Aitana can't think of what she's done wrong. She's moved you into your own room now with little glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling to occupy you. You're newly washed and warm in your fluffy onesie and you're holding the little pegasus plushie Aitana bought you when you were born.
She's followed the books to a tee and yet you still cried.
You cried and cried and whined for your Ta-Ta until Aitana picked you up and you settled again.
She has no choice but to drag your crib straight back into her room because you refuse to settle anywhere else.
But, apart from that small hiccup, you are a golden baby.
You are soft and sweet and make little happy gurgling sounds whenever you see your Mama Ta-Ta.
It all goes so well and Aitana doesn't know what she was worrying about until you learn how to walk. She was impressed at first, you were on the younger end when you learnt and she's very impressed when you just got up one day from where you're playing on your mat to walk over to the kitchen where Aitana is making dinner.
You raise your arms for her and she instantly picks you up.
All you wanted was your Mama Ta-Ta.
The issue comes when Aitana realises just how many sharp corners are in her house and just how quickly you have transitioned from wobbly steps to proper walking.
"Sorry, Tana," Marta says when Aitana asks about babyproofing during a break in practice. She's talking to her Aitana but her eyes are focused on where her Conejita and Caro are making flower crowns together. "I never had to do that for Conejita. She didn't walk until quite late and she never really strayed far."
Aitana can believe that. Even now Conejita is a careful child. She doesn't run and doesn't play rough. She just chooses a space and sits and weaves flowers together.
So, Aitana turns to Mapi and Ingrid.
They're sitting a bit further away as little Skatt is letting a beetle climb all over her fingers.
Ingrid has a similar response.
"Skatt never moved very fast," Ingrid says," It was easy to occupy her."
"I think you can order these foam things that clip onto corners," Mapi offers, hooking her hand around the inside of Skatt's collar to pull her closer when she tries to wander after where the beetle has flown off to," You could try those."
And Aitana does. She orders them as soon as she gets home while occupying you with a sensory programme about space.
You like that kind of thing, Aitana has learnt and your room (which you now more frequently sleep in) is full of stars and planets and the mobile that hangs above your crib is a replica of the solar system and sings a silly song about how to name each planet.
Her corner guards come within the hour after Aitana pays an extortionate price for sameday delivery. The ring of the doorbell makes you turn your head but your interest is captured once again by the spinning stars and comets so Aitana feels safe babyproofing the apartment while you watch your video.
She's just clipping on the last of the guards when there's a tug on her shorts. She's not surprised to see you standing there. Your video finished a few minutes ago and the soft pad of your socked feet were ones Aitana was used to now.
"Hola, estrella," She coos at you.
You babble nonsense for a while before lifting up your arms. "Ta-Ta."
"Alright," Aitana says," Uppies, it is." She lifts you up onto her hip and you take the time to poke at the new corner guards.
Your little brows furrow and Aitana can't help but think about how much you look like her when you do that.
"It's to protect your head," She explains to you," So you can go running around and not hurt yourself."
You poke it again in confusion, legs kicking out before you huff and rest your head against Aitana's chest.
"Tar," You whine and Aitana knows that word in your language too.
She laughs. "Alright, we can watch the dancing stars again."
You must know she's agreed because you burst into ecstatic giggles as she walks you back to the sofa.
Both Marta and Ingrid had warned her about the mindless, boring videos she would now have to watch as your mother but Aitana finds that she doesn't quite mind.
She'll sit through mindless kid's shows forever if it means keeping you in her arms.
But, it seems that you don't want to be in her arms right now as you spot your stuffed pegasus lying by the corner from earlier.
Aitana lets you go, watching as you pad very carefully over to your toy. She sucks in a breath as you approach the corner. You stop just in front of it, staring.
You wrap your little hand around the corner and duck down with your other to grab your plushie. You pull yourself back up, patting the corner happily before wandering back to Aitana.
You show her your toy.
"Ta-Ta, peg-sus."
She laughs. "That's right. Your pegasus. There's a constellation called pegasus. Is that why you like it so much?"
You giggle and gnaw on a wing.
She hefts you up onto her lap again and you rest your ear against her chest.
"Tar," You point at the tv.
"Alright, let me put on your stars."
576 notes · View notes
switchypanic · 4 months
Text
Wishful Thinking || A 'Hazbin Hotel' Tickle Fic (100 Follower Special)
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Summary: Vox's obsession with Alastor is no secret, but the true extent and nature of said obsession is an entirely different story. As his thoughts grow increasingly consumed by his rival, Vox finds it harder and harder to think about anything else, ultimately coming to a head with a very interesting discovery.
Content Warnings: Canon-typical language, brief mild violence, use of restraints, a lil' bit of blackmail, and Vox being a thirsty bitch for Alastor (because we love a good dose of one-sided attraction). Also, not really a warning, but any scenes that take place in somebody's head are in blue and italics (you'll see what I mean as you read).
Word Count: 3,669 words.
Vox couldn't fucking stand Alastor.
His stupid smile, his stupid voice, those stupid powers that allowed him to crush anyone in his way like an insect. The man was infuriating, always acting so calm and in control, even after Vox managed to get the drop on him that fateful day seven years ago. It was like nothing could touch him in any MEANINGFUL way, a fact that frustrated Vox to no end.
Yes, Alastor was nothing but a big pain in the ass, constantly doing anything in his power to screw with Vox, oftentimes broadcasting it for the entirety of Pride to witness.
Worst of all was the way that he infiltrated Vox's processor, filling his head with fantasies he had no way of controlling without shutting himself down completely. And it wasn't even intentional! That bastard had no idea what he was doing, or if he did, he gave no indication of it! No, he just kept on smiling that stupid grin, making those passive aggressive remarks, acting like he wasn't the thing consuming Vox's mind nearly twenty-four hours a day.
Vox watched the surveillance footage captured earlier that morning, feeling his breath hitch at the staticky image being displayed. He could just barely make out Alastor's form through the distortion (another thing that Vox hated about him; the bastard made it damn near impossible to get a clear image of him), standing outside the doors of little Princess Morningstar's hotel discussing something unintelligible with that winged cat sinner who often hung around him.
Through the grainy audio, he could just make out Alastor barking out a laugh, the sound itself laced with static and radio interference. The deer demon's shoulders shook, his ears pinning back slightly as he chortled, his companion letting out an irritated huff in response.
How many times had Vox watched the clip now? He had honestly lost count. He didn't know why he kept returning to that particular moment of footage; nothing particularly useful or interesting was occurring. Just a regular conversation, from what he could tell. There was just...something in the other overlord's moment of mirth that captured his full attention, setting something ablaze within the TV demon.
More; he wanted to hear more.
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The lights flickered, the sound of screeching radio filling the air, accompanied by something entirely different.
Giggling, pure and hysterical.
Alastor lurched forwards, hands latched onto Vox's wrists as he tried to lean forward and away from the other demon, who held him firmly against his chest. "Rehehehehelease me at ohohohohonce!" The usually composed overlord was a mess, face tinted a bright shade of red, eyes crinkled with mirth as another wave of snickers shook his frame. "Shihihihihihihit!"
Vox chuckled, leaning forward to croon into Alastor's ear, which immediately flicked at the feeling of the other's warm breath. "What's the matter, old man? Too ticklish?" He sang, smirk widening. "What would the public think, knowing the famed Radio Demon is so...sensitive..." He growled the last part, low and teasing, resulting in a shriek of microphone feedback from Alastor. "Perhaps I should turn on some of my cameras, hm? I doubt you could focus on messing with them while your giggling so hard. I could let all of Hell know just how much of a ticklish little-"
Vox blinked, pulled from his daydream by a raised brow from Velvette. "Vox, are you listening to me? This is important shit! I need to make sure you're on top of the advertisements for my new collection if we are going to see any substantial sales!"
Vox cleared his throat, trying to urge his screen to COOL THE FUCK DOWN before his flusteredness became obvious. "Apologies, I seem to have gotten distracted. You were saying, my sweet?"
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Vox chuckled, watching his rival's squirming form, bound to the chair with the purest grade of angelic steel money could buy.
Only the best for this occasion.
"Well, well! Look what the cat dragged in!" Vox laughed, walking in circles around Alastor, taking in every detail of the scene before him. He was going to relish thing; savor it. He had waited so long to have the other at his mercy, and now he was going to take his sweet time and ENJOY the fruits of his labor. "You've lost your touch, old timer! It was far too easy to catch you in my little trap."
Alastor's eyes narrowed, grin tightening in a clear show of displeasure. "You would do well to remember who you are speaking to." He retorted, chin raising defiantly as Vox finally stopped in front of him.
"Oho, I remember good and well. I'm talking to the prick who has done nothing but make my life harder ever since he arrived here, and I'm going to see to it you feel every second of what's coming next." He leaned forward, locking eyes with the other overlord as he gave a grin of his own, his far more devious. "Little buck."
Vox's hand's shot out, latching onto Alastor's ribcage and beginning to claw at the boney torso. Alastor's breath hitched, his eyes widening with alarm. His grin became more strained as he jerked forward, trying to curl inwards on himself. His breathing became sporadic, lips sealed shot as a wobbly, genuine smile began to curl at the corners of his mouth. "F-Fuhuhuck!"
The TV demon laughed lowly. "Trying to hold out, are we? We'll see how long that lasts..."
Vox awoke with a start, his screen turning on as he bolted up in bed. His eyes were wide, immediately flicking over to Valentino, who lay beside him. Thankfully, the moth was still sound asleep, snoring loudly without a care in the world. Vox sighed, running a hand across his face and feeling the heat of a blush under his palm.
Damn it, this was starting to get out of control!
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Vox was going mad! No matter how hard he tried to clear his thoughts, they always returned back to those deep, hidden desires playing out over and over in his processor. He found himself constantly thinking about Alastor's smile, his laugh, the prospect of taking him down with a few well placed squeezes or prods. To make matters worse, Vox was having a hard time FUNCTIONING at work because of this, and he could tell the other Vees were starting to catch on that something was up.
The TV demon rung his hands together, pacing back and forth in his private office. He had to find a solution FAST or he was royally screwed!
'Damn you, Alastor!’ Vox thought, a small growl slipping out as he rubbed his forehead, flopping into his chair and turning to face one of the many spying monitors plastered to the wall. "Pull up what we have on the Hazbin Hotel." He grumbled, giving in to his urge to spy on his rival once more. Inside, he secretly hoped to catch another fleeting moment of mirth from Alastor, even if it was just a chuckle.
Three monitors came to life, showing the hotel from various angles, with one focused directly on the front entrance. Aside from his...ongoing interest in the Radio Demon, Vox liked to keep tabs on who was going in and out of the hotel, just to make sure the princess wasn't gaining any more powerful allies he needed to know about. The scene was serene, or at least as serene as a live feed of Hell COULD be, nothing out of place. It seemed luck wasn't on Vox's side, as Alastor was nowhere to be seen. The TV host felt his eye twitch in irritation, disappointment stirring within him.
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"You motherfucker! This is a brand new suit!" Vox yelled angrily as Alastor dodged another of his attempts to strike him.
The Radio Demon let out an amused chuckle (though unfortunately not the kind of laugh Vox had been secretly craving), one flick of his microphone sending three tentacles darting at Vox from different directions, which the other barely managed to avoid. "Really? Could have fooled me with how tacky and outdated it looks." The redhead retorted smugly.
"Oh, fuck you! I'll wipe that shit-eating grin off your face!" Vox retorted, giving up on using his powers in favor of lunging for the deer demon himself.
Alastor took a step back, Vox's claws just barely grazing the sides of his neck. The radio host opened his mouth, as if to make another snide remark, but whatever he said died in his throat and was replaced by a startled crack of microphone feedback. The two demons froze, eyes widened as they stared at each other wordless for a moment.
"What the fuck was-" Vox started, but in the blink of an eye, Alastor was gone and their fight was seemingly over.
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"I mean, seriously?! What the fuck WAS that?!" Vox asked himself, finding himself pacing around his private surveillance room once more. "He never runs from a fight with me! Shit, he only ran from Adam because he was about to fucking die! He was nowhere near that point today!"
Did Vox somehow managed to hurt him? No, he had thrown far worse at the Radio Demon before without leaving so much as a scratch. He had BARELY touched him, and even with his claws, it couldn't have possibly hurt. So what...
The TV demon stopped, eyes shooting wide open as his breath quickened. No...no fucking way...
Alastor was ticklish. Not just in Vox's mind's eye, not just in his secret fantasies. He was actually, tangibly ticklish, and going from the reaction one brief touch had garnered, horrifically so.
Vox's processor raced at the prospect. He had been daydreaming about turning the other overlord into a cackling puddle, wheezing for mercy through a cracked voice, but he had never actually imagined it was possible! Vox got the feeling this discover was only going to make his daydreaming problem worse, but at the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care.
Alastor was TICKLISH...
'There has to be some way I can...some trick I can pull to...' Vox's mind raced, barely able to finish a sentence. He HAD to have the other now, even if just for a brief instance. Vox NEEDED to feel that high of reducing his mortal enemy to giggling shambles; to know what it felt like to be the one to finally BREAK the feared Radio Demon. But how?
Obviously the heat of battle wasn't the best place, though it would ensure a public audience to witness his victory. He doubted Alastor would agree to a private meeting, especially after their most recent fight. And there was CERTAINLY no way Vox was going to lower himself enough to go crawling to Princess Morningstar's little hotel. No, Vox was going to have to come up with another solution.
"Something on your mind?" A voice purred from behind him, low and dangerous. Vox yelped, whipping around with widened eyes. From one of the darkened corners of the room, Alastor seeped out of the shadows, grin ever present but appearing more strained than usual. Vox felt a nervous lump form in his throat.
"What the fuck?! How did you even get in here?!" He yelled, immediately moving to hit the alarm button on his control console, only to find his wrist being suddenly restrained by a shadowy tentacle sprouting from the floor.
"Ah, ah!" Alastor tutted, taking a few steps forward. "None of that. I just want to talk." He cocked his head to the side. "And as for how I got in, let's just say your security is shockingly terrible for a demon of your status."
Vox's eyes narrowed. "If you're going to kill me, at least make it quick." He growled, attempting to put on a brave face and save a bit of his pride.
"Kill you? Why, I'm planning to do no such thing, at least not today! After all, to defeat one's rival in such a disgraceful, sneaky manner would not be becoming of either of us, would it?" Alastor chuckled, moving closer to Vox as another tentacle grabbed ahold of his other wrist, keeping the TV demon rooted firmly in place. A flash of green magic briefly passed over Alastor's eyes as he chuckled. "Though it would be quite easy for me to do so with you sooo defenseless."
Vox's brows furrowed in confusion. "Then why the hell are you here?"
"Like I said, I just want to talk." Alastor leaned forward, maintain eye contact with the shorter demon. "To ensure that you keep your trap shut about matters which do not concern you."
"What are you going on about?" Vox sighed, clearly irritated by the other's continued vagueness. He continued to stare at the other demon, who merely continued to watch him wordlessly, before it dawned on him. "You're worried I'm gonna tell somebody you're fucking ticklish?"
Alastor's eye gave the slightest twitch. "Sensitive." He corrected.
"I'm pretty sure you're ticklish." Vox retorted, taking some delight in his rival's clear displeasure. "And what makes you think holding me hostage in my own office would stop me from mentioning it during my next broadcast? You can't keep me like this forever."
The sound of microphone feedback briefly overtook the air around him, making Vox wince at the volume and pitch. "No, I can't keep you here indefinitely, but I can provide you with a little incentive to keep your trap shut." One of the tentacles coiled further down Vox's arm, the end gently brushing over the trapped overlord's armpit. Vox tensed, breath hitching as his eyes grew wide as saucers. "You see, don't think I haven't noticed your own sensitivity, Vox. In fact, I've known about it for some time."
Shit.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about! Get the fuck away from me!" Vox stammered, eyes locked onto the other's devious smirk.
"Oh, come now, don't be shy! It's not as if it was especially hard to find out about! We have fought so often, categorizing your little weak points was easy enough to accomplish!" Alastor took a step closer as the shadowy tentacle began to stroke Vox's armpit more firmly, slowly moving up and down in an agonizingly teasy motion. "I will admit, it took me some time to figure out why you often flinched at the slightest of touches during battle. However, all it took was witnessing one little tickle fight at the hotel to make everything fall into place."
Another of Alastor's tentacle slipped up, beginning to tweak at Vox's side, causing him to bite down on his lip in a desperate attempt to hold back snickers. "Those weren't the reactions of a man barely avoiding a fatal blow, those were the reactions of a man trying oh so hard to keep from giggling."
Vox felt his screen heating more and more by the second, both from embarrassment and the effort to keep his laughter bottled up. What the fuck was happening?! How was this real life?! The TV demon lurched forward, straining against the restrains as a particularly well-placed prod to his hipbone pulled a soft snort out of him. "Shuhuhut the fuck up!"
"Being stubborn, are we? I expected nothing less." Alastor chuckled, clearly amused. "Perhaps I should take a page from Angel Dust's playbook then, hm?" The other overlord suddenly materialized behind Vox, melting from the shadows and resting a clawed hand on the back of Vox's head. His grip tightened, pulling Vox's head backwards as he crooned into his ear. "Coochie coochie coo..."
Vox just about short circuited at that, the sound of loud television static filling the air. As Alastor's free hand suddenly dug into his stomach, he couldn't hold back any longer, bursting into a wave of panicked giggles. "Ohohohoho shihihihihihit!" The flood gates had opened, and Vox had no hope of closing them again, no matter how hard he tried.
"Lovely." Alastor seemed quite pleased with himself, clawed fingers scribbling across his rival's exposed midriff as the tentacles (thankfully) stopped their own attacks, now focusing on holding the TV demon nice and still.
"Fuhuhuhuhuck you! Lehehehehet mehehehe go!" Vox tried to sound threatening, he really did, but that was impossible when every word was laced with titters. He squirmed desperately, attempting to curl inwards and protect his sensitive torso, but the restraints held firm. His voice raised in pitch as Alastor zeroed in on his upper stomach, just below the ribs, refusing to acknowledge the borderline squeal he made.
"And why would I do that? I have you right where I want you; nice and helpless..." There was a low growl to Alastor's words, both threatening and teasing in the most awful of ways, sending Vox further spiraling into flusteredness. His claws began to slowly inch upwards, like a spider slowly climbing towards prey trapped in its web. "From what I have gathered, your ribs seem to be an area you're quite desperate to defend during our little fights. I wonder why that could be, hm?"
The TV host began shaking his head furiously. "Dooohohon't yohohohou fucking dahahahahare! I'll kihihihihihihill you!" He snorted, the sound of television static increasing ever so slightly.
"Oops, too late!" Alastor's claws dug in, beginning to rake across Vox's rib cage slowly, moving up to just below the armpits before cascading back down to just above the stomach.
Vox screeched, thrashing becoming downright desperate as he threw his head back with laughter. "NOHOHOHOHOHOOO! OHOHOHOHOHO MY GAHAHAHAHAHAD, STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!" His cooling systems had kicked in, the fans whirling loudly as they attempted to cool down his quickly heating form. "NAHAHAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHEHERE!"
Alastor chuckled devilishly. "Why Vox, you should know better! Everyone knows that saying "not there" only makes the attack want to exploit that spot even more." He hummed, mockingly pretending to think. "Perhaps you DID know, and you're just enjoying this so much you want me to keep going? Is that it?"
The other overlord let out a startled squeal at the feeling of something fiddling with his antenna; when had ANOTHER tentacle popped up?!
Vox face felt like it was on fire from the teasing, his laughter pitching up with flustered desperation. "SHUHUHUHUT THE FUHUHUHUHUHUHUCK UP! THAHAHAHAT'S NOHOHOHOHOT TRUE!" He denied vehemently, knees starting to go weak. After a moment, his legs gave out, but instead of slumping to the floor, Vox found himself being held up by Alastor's sentient shadow. The creature's grin widened, becoming downright feral as it let out an amused cackle at his plight.
"Whatever you say, old pal! Now, if you REALLY want this to stop, you will agree to keep what you discovered today between us alone." Alastor rested his chin on Vox's shoulder, the touch shooting a bigger shock through his nervous system than any tickling ever could. "Do we have a deal?"
Vox's processor was racing a thousand miles a minute. Fuck, why was this actually fucking fun?! What was wrong with him?! He knew he should have hated it; the powerlessness, the teasing, the terror of being so utterly defenseless in front of his greatest rival. Yet...he didn't hate it, a fact he found more flustering than any tease Alastor could have pulled out of his ass.
No, Vox did NOT want it to stop.
Still, if Vox DIDN'T give in, it would only confirm the assumption deer demon had so accurately deduced, and he wasn't sure his heart would be able to take the cruel, crooning teases Alastor would no doubt come up with upon such a revelation. When weighing the humiliation of yielding to Alastor to the humiliation of admitting that he was ENJOYING getting tickled to the brink of his sanity, Vox would take the former any day.
"FIHIHIHIHINE, HOHOHOHOHOLY SHIHIHIHIHIT! DEAL, DEHEHEHEHEEEEAL!" He screeched, a little wheeze slipping out as one of the tentacles tugged on his sensitive antenna. "JUHUHUST STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP, YOU BAHAHAHAHASTARD!"
As soon as those words were uttered, all touch disappeared, and Alastor reappeared a few feet in front of Vox. The overlord collapsed against his surveillance console, panting as his fans worked overtime to cool his body down. He shook with residual titters, his sharp-toothed grin nearly slipping his screen in two.
"There, was that so hard?" Alastor purred, sharing a smug grin with his shadow. "Now, I expect you to hold to our deal, otherwise I will have to take this little audio recording and make it the center of my next broadcast!" The deer demon twirled his cane, gazing at it and humming as Vox's eyes shot open.
"What now?"
Alastor scoffed. "Oh, please! Did you really think I would take you on your word alone that you would stay silent? I knew you would not make a soul deal with me over it, so I took matters into my own hands." The other sinner explained. "See, my microphone was recording our little interaction the whole time, minus the parts about my own...shortcomings. Think of it as insurance; it will not be released to the public as long as you behave yourself!"
Vox's face exploded into a bright blush blush. "Wait, that wasn't part of the fucking-"
"Oops, I'm afraid I have another engagement to attend to! Until we meet again!" Alastor cut him off, melting back into the shadows and disappearing from sight before Vox could finish his sentence. The TV host growled, flopping into his chair. His claws dug into the armrests, slicing into the slight padding. That prick! He couldn't just-
The overlord sighed in defeat after a moment, eyes closing as his breathing slowly returned to normal and his fans kicked off. He could still feel those claws scratching at his ribs, setting his nervous system alight with ticklish fire. He could still hear that voice, singing those awful, teasing words into his ear. He could still feel his limbs strain against the tentacle's hold, preventing him from squirming away no matter how hard he tried. Vox swallowed, feeling his blush returning full force.
He might have a different daydream to worry about now...
481 notes · View notes
blingblong55 · 5 months
Text
Masters pet- F!Reader x Ghoap NSFW
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Photo Credits: @ave661 (Left and centre) ---- F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, rough!sex, Ghost x reader x Soap, three!some, edging, unprotected!sex, mentions of anal!sex, M4MF ----
Soap's cock in your tight pussy while Ghost fucks your tight ass hole like a dog in heat. You beg and beg but neither will stop. Although Soap gives you occasional praises, Ghost is all about fucking you dumb and degrading you and making you repeat that you are nothing but a worthless slut who is only good for being used.
"Good girl"
"Dumb fucking slut"
All night, your pretty little holes get spread apart for their meaty cocks. This is all because it was part of their welcoming to the relationship and also because Soap wanted a pretty pet.
Ghost has Soap as his pet but good boys get rewarded and Soaps reward was you...and somewhat Ghost's reward.
Their thick cum leaking from all your holes. Your legs shaking after many and I mean many hours of getting fucked like you were nothing but a toy.
And of course, Ghost also makes you wear a collar. His pets must have to show who owns them after all.
Your body covered in bruises, bite marks and some blood from where they bit you too hard. Your voice gone by now as you begged and cried to have them stop.
"Toys don't fucking talk!" A slap to your face as a reminder of where you belong. Not once was a safe word used so they knew all those begs and cries were for nothing.
When they denied all your orgasms, you whined and whined and each time you did, their fat cocks would only fuck you harder. That night, you came once all while they came more than five times.
Soap seven times, since he was being such a good boy Ghost have him one extra fuck to the new toy and a teased and needed blowjob.
Aftercare was sweet. and much more fun when Ghost watched his two pretty pets cuddle and whimper together. He wouldn't admit it but he filmed the whole thing, from beginning to end. And, when his pretty pets misbehave, he shows them the video and tells them that they can all have a good fuck if they behave, but he never fulfills this.
After all, whatever master says goes.
A/N: Thanking this link for the wave of thought
Now to the HC
Ghost loves to remind Soap and you that you are still his submissive pets.
There will always be a collar, bracelet or mark to show you are his property.
Sex is literally the best because both of them LOOOVVEEE to fuck you and overstimulate you, like it's no joke, they love it so much it's now become more of a reward for them.
Soap adores to watch you cry and beg because Ghost keeps edging you and ruining your orgasms.
If it wasn't for Ghost being the literal best Dom there would be an OF where Soap and you would be used over and over for his pleasure as well as clips of you getting all your orgasms ruined.
There is a closet where toys, lube and some clothes are in and it's locked because Ghost knows his pets would open it, play with each other and without his permission.
There are days where he has to tie Soap and you up and watch Ghost stroke himself. When Soap whines enough and begs saying he will be a good boy, Ghost unties him and Soap finally gives his master head.
Sometimes, when Soap behaves so well he is given permission to tape a vibrator to your thigh and watch as you cry because of how many orgasms you've had.
Safe words are a thing but the use of them are rare.
This man has a list of all the kinks, fetishes, wants, needs and the don'ts. (Ghost)
Tags:
@ghostslillady @unicorngirly1 @nymph-psychology @funckycunt @queen-ilmaree @liyanahelena @ghostlymostlywholettheghostout @lunas-876 @thevoidwriting @clear-your-mind-and-dream @veenasmonter @cringeycookies
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493 notes · View notes
jinkookspencil · 6 months
Text
a way to wake | ksj
you're fast asleep and seokjin has to wake you up... an old method he used on his friend eventually comes to mind
description/tags/note: seokijn drabble / fluff + suggestive / established relationship / i had this idea in my head for a while, ever since i found out how jin used to wake up jungkook when they were younger... and i ended up writing the whole thing while stuck in traffic on a random afternoon / i am actively working on til you make it 2 whenever i have the time! i'm glad i took my time with it, i improved it in all this time and am still thinking of ways to improve it little by little / also, i often get ideas or scenarios in my head that could be mini pieces, not even a drabble - some are barely even 500 words. would you guys be interested in stuff like that? lmk!! / anyways, enjoy!! / edit: i edited this fic to make it even more suggestive. they both hint at yn wanting jin to wake her up by touching her.
wc: ~1.3k words
Seokjin didn’t have it in him. You were sleeping so peacefully beside him, as you had through all seven of your alarms, likely finally getting in a good rest after many sleepless nights… and he had to disturb it?
He knew he didn’t really have a choice - you were already running late. It wasn’t going to be a problem for Seokjin really, after you both showered, it’d only take him a couple more minutes at most to change into his suit. You, on the other hand, always needed some extra time to get ready, and that ‘extra’ time was getting shorter and shorter the more he let you sleep.
You’d want him to wake you up, he knew that for certain, as well as the fact that you would probably scold him as well as yourself for your sleeping in. That reminder is what finally got him to nudge and rub your shoulder.
“Jagiya?”
He repeats the action numerous times, raising the volume of his voice every time, but still, you slept.
“Honey,” he calls with a laugh, tickling your side, belly, and thigh. Your elbow twitches once, but never again despite him repeating the action over and over again. “We need to leave soon. You need to wake up now, darling.”
Nothing.
He gets up to pull open a bit of the curtains, letting sunlight stream in and disrupt the darkness of your bedroom.
Still, nothing.
Frustrated now, Seokjin pulls out his phone and quickly takes a photo of you sleeping - just for himself - before opening up the music app. He plays clips of several songs, and all you do is wince, sleeping through them as you did your alarms.
“Are you faking it?” he asks aloud to your sleeping body. “Jagi… if you’re faking sleep, I swear I won’t eat you out tonight. I’m serious.”
Nothing.
That definitely would’ve done it if you were faking sleep. Really, you had no reason to fake it - you'd panic at the mere thought of running late - but Seokjin couldn’t eliminate the possibility entirely. You could be a bit of a brat at times.
He half considers physically pulling you out of bed, throwing a plushie at you, or emptying a water bottle on you, until he remembers a failsafe. A way that couldn’t hurt you like manhandling could, nor anger you with wet pajamas and sheets.
Jungkook’s way.
Seokjin giggles to himself at the thought. He had never tried it on any of his exes in the past, just Jungkook, really. It wasn't uncommon for boys to do such a thing at that age, especially when they were playfully roughhousing, which, with Jungkook, happened every day and at any time of day. Seokjin always had the edge by starting off Jungkook's days just like that - it always did the trick... And considering the other similarities you shared with Seokjin's younger friend, it wasn’t something to dismiss entirely.
Slowly, he turns you until you’re lying entirely on your back against the mattress, facing the ceiling with shut eyes. He moves from his position next to you until he’s over you, straddling your body with a knee planted on either side of your hips. He never took on this position with Jungkook of course, and almost started regretting it already - you felt too good.
“Jagi,” he whispers, pulling away the blanket from your body and letting his hand graze the skin at your collarbone and your stomach by the hem of your pajama top. He kisses your neck once, calling your name. It was the final chance he'd give you before he’d pull the trigger.
And you didn’t budge.
He sighs in defeat, not holding back his smile any longer when he sees your hardened nipples peak through the thin fabric of your top. Ready. Just for him.
With his index finger and thumb on both hands, Seokjin pinches and fiddles with your raised buds for mere seconds before you shoot up, finally awake.
“Wh?! W..what the fuck?! Jin!” you yell, wriggling underneath your fiancé’s body as he laughs, tumbling over you.
“I can’t believe that worked,” he says between his giggles, stopping only when you lazily reach towards his chest. “YA! I only did that to wake you up. You slept through your alarms, bub. We’re running late.”
“WHAT?!” you yell, pushing him off of you and hurriedly searching for your phone. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?
“I TRIED!” he protests, getting off the bed. “You slept like a rock. Who knew squeezing your nipples would finally do it? It’s what I used to do to Jungkook when we shared a dorm. Though, of course, I used to twist his nipples to the point where he was certain I detached them from his body somehow. I tried handling you with care, princess.”
“Couldn’t you have used your fingers somewhere else, Seokjin? A bit lower perhaps? You know, something Jungkook doesn’t have? Something you could only possibly do with your girlfriend?”
Seokjin stares at you. Despite the fact that you’d looked delectable asleep and under him already, the thought never occurred to him. Of course the thought wouldn’t occur to him. This wasn’t a conversation you had had together and he hadn’t gotten your consent or any hint that it’d be something you would want. Unless of course, he had been the reason you refused to wake up… Seokjin’s mind wanders with a desperate need within him to have the conversation then and there, knowingly unprepared if you’d admitted to it all. Wanting to be woken up that way. A dream, perhaps. They might have just forget the event altogether…
He begins following you around the room with pleas for a moment to talk, but you don’t turn back for a second until it is to do the exact opposite of handling him with care - dragging and pushing him into the bathroom.
Seokjin watches as you undress, doing the same and half hoping for a quickie, considering your eagerness. He almost felt his length begin to harden, but soon you’re pushing him once more, into the tepid shower with a loofah in hand. He tries to put his thought away for now, caring for your body in another way he felt so privileged to do. To maximize efficiency, you wash yourselves and one another before going about your routines at double the pace. Seokjin’s entirely dressed in minutes, save for his suit jacket, while you were still getting ready, wearing a lingerie set underneath a robe. Extra time for you, and extra time for him to admire you.
“Help me with my dress,” you command him, stepping into a dress he promptly zips up, but not before he drinks up the sight of you in brown silk and lace underneath. Stood behind you, he watches as you adorn yourself with jewelry but can’t stop his hand from snaking over your waist, softly cupping your breasts over the fabric of your dress. You don’t react save for a sharp inhale, continuing to adorn your look. You’re so stunning it almost brings him to his knees. He’d happily allow his body to get there, too, kneeling to tease you at the very least and at most, sneaking his head underneath your dress and pulling down your underwear - just for a taste. But instead, he nudges his head in the crook of your neck - softly kissing along the chain of your necklace. “Tell me, honey… were you dreaming of me? Is that why you didn’t want to wake up?”
You roll your eyes, playfully swatting Seokjin’s hand on your waist, his fake arrogance replaced with a wide smile in seconds. “We need to leave.”
“I made a promise,” Seokjin says, wearing his jacket. “While you were asleep. I made a promise.”
“Oh?” you question, spraying perfume on the two of you. The final touch.
“I said that if you were faking sleeping through your alarms, I wouldn’t eat you out tonight.”
The promise makes you stop in your tracks towards the front door, Seokjin getting there first with an intrigued expression on his face when he looks back. “Since you weren’t faking it, that means I have to do it. And since you slept through the many different ways I tried waking you up… I guess it seems I gotta get you to do something else.... gotta get you somewhere.... many different ways tonight…. Oh, and of course, you won't be faking it this time around as well.”
He’s unsure if the redness in your cheeks is heat flooding your system or makeup he simply hadn’t noticed a minute prior. As you make your way towards your fiancee, you see smugness only slightly present on his face, overshadowed by sincerity - that of a genuine promise. Your hands fiddle with Seokjin’s tie before resting on his chest.
“I didn’t realize dreams could manifest into reality that quickly.”
“I knew it,” Seokjin smiles, kissing your hand as his ears go red. The idea of you actually having a wet dream about him this long into your relationship… the fact that you’d dream of him and his body pleasuring yours, after only hours apart in sleep… it sent him into a frenzy.
“I mean, I know I’ll hear it tonight, but I kind of wish you’d been moaning my name in your sleep…”
“Well, you didn’t see my pajama shorts, did you?,” you whisper, flicking Seokjin’s nipple over his shirt. He winces but is quick to disregard the pain - his face flushed, and he suddenly doesn’t know what to do with his hands, trying to reach for your waist, thigh, or ass - you push him away.
“It was a very vivid dream, honey. Don’t you worry… I’ll tell you all the many different ways I want it. The ways you did it… And tomorrow, wake me up like it never ended.”
There it was.
“Can we stay in? We’re late already,” Seokjin whines. “We can get a head start. Morning to morning…” He feeling his knees buckling at the thought, slowly trying to pull you closer to him in persuasion. You don’t budge and open the door instead.
“You know we can’t…. Now’s your time to dream of me.”
The hunger within him only grew, already fantasising of the of the night to come. Now, he was in competition with himself and he’d make sure your reality is far better than anything you could dream of.
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lionar0und · 9 months
Text
Dada! - Leona fic
Leona has some conflicted feelings about his baby This is mostly my late night rambling
Warnings - Fem reader Kinda, mostly leona and cub centered, Small doses of traumatized Leona
Special thanks to @queen-shiba for all her help. Thanks Bestie!
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Leona loves his sleep. It's a known fact that he almost loves sleep more than he loves his wife.
Almost. He certainly loves her enough for-
"Dada!"
There she is. Leona has...conflicted feelings about being a father. His wife wanted a cub, so they had a cub. He wanted to continue his legacy anyway...but Seven, he's struggling.
It was fine at first - mildly unnerving, but fine. You were struggling, and he hated it. But you wanted Melody so badly. He can't ignore the adrenaline rush he felt when he first felt his cub kicking; or the jolts of joy whenever he held you, arms around you and holding your belly.
But now that she's here?
She's beautiful. She's everything he never thought he could love that he would live for. He'd die for her to but dying is just sleep to him...and sleep is easy. It's numb and comfortable. But living? Waking from bliss to feed his tiny mewling cub as she wails, face red and tiny fists shaking is hard. Giving up some of his late nights out, facing the embarrassment of her sobbing at royal functions; all those judging eyes watching?
Yeah. That's rough.
Really rough.
Today's rough too - He only just got back from another Spelldrive practice, and now that hes a pro, his energy has to be up to play!
But duty calls.
"DADA!"
"Oi, don't shout at baba," He grumbles weakly, "It's late, nugget."
"I want hair." She huffs. For a second his heart stirs. She has your eyes.
"You have hair. See? It's right here." He tapped her head...and it started again. The instant panic because what if his nails are too sharp? What if he hurt her?
He represses the urge to throw up when remembering the feeling of his own parent's claws raking over his eye.
"No dada. Your hair. Pretty!"
"My hair? Baby, what-" He is cut off by a sharp tug on his hair.
Oh.
"You want locs?" It's more of a surprised gruff squeak than anything else. "You want your hair to look like mine?"
"Yes!" She squeals excitedly, hopping on the bed with him. "Hair like yours!"
Shit. Shit, he doesn't do his own hair! He's a prince, he has a stylist-
"Dada?"
Damn it...look at that sweet face. Funny, he didn't realize Melody had his grumpy face.
"Alright, come here grumpy cat." He quickly grabbed his phone. "Kifaji? Yeah...bring me all that hair stuff my stylist uses and my tablet stand."
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As Leona works diligently, he silently notes to raise his stylists salary.
Melody is squirmy after a while...but luckily his baby girl is just as nerdy as him. Nothing a chess tournament on TV can't fix. Besides, hes a good multitasker! He watches the how-to video on his Ipad while carefully doing his precious cub's hair and violently judging the shitty chess plays.
How many more clips does he need? This kid has a lot more hair than he thought...
"Almost done?"
"Almost baby." He grumbles, trying to pick up the clip he dropped.
Sevens, his hands are sore! Twisting Melody's hair lovingly yet firmly, he feels that familiar bubble of annoyance. Why can't the royal stylist just do this instead?
Stop it, Leona. He thinks bitterly. Be the dad you wanted. Suck up being tired! You overblotted and still played spelldrive after! This is for your cub!
But it's been over an hour. And he is so, so tired. And he has practice tomorrow.
And his baby girl wants to be just like him.
He tries to ignore the weird feeling in his throat he gets when those doubts creep in again.
Come on man. Just a bit longer.
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Almost two hours later, he's done. He's oddly proud of himself. And his reward?
He gets to go deaf!
Melody is squealing in glee now, running around with her tiny mirror.
"I look just like dada!" The tired dad hears her screaming down the hall. It's making him feel oddly smug, too. He actually did it.
Finally, he can reap his rewards. Snuggled tightly into his bed and using your maternity pillow he stole , he can finally sleep.
"DADA I WANNA PLAY DOLLS!"
...but for his baby girl, maybe sleep can wait until tomorrow.
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