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leclerc-hs · 5 months

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lucky pt. 2 - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: in which you and your childhood best friend, are most definitely in love, but it's too complicated (or is it?) Warnings: most french edited by @softtdaisy (shoutout to her!!), SMUT, angst, 18+, not proofread Word Count: 2,695 Author's Note: I absolutely loved writing this!! I know I said I would wait for the poll to end but I think we can just do bonus scenes in the future if wanted!! xoxo PART 1 BONUS

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Imbécile,” Idiot. Arthur throws a piece of his balled-up napkin, hitting you right in the face. “Maman wants you there, pas d’excuses.” No excuses.

It had been almost two weeks since you and Charles last spoke. The both of you far too stubborn to bring up the argument you last had. Instead, you ignored the problem at hand. By not seeing each other. Sunday dinner at Pascale’s was a weekly occurrence. One that you failed to attend last week, and it was shame on you if you missed another because of Charles.

You release a heavy sigh, acknowledging that you’re about to yield and head over to Pascale’s. After all, it’s not entirely her fault that her son seems to be obvlious to certain things.

“Il est fou amoureux de toi!” He is in love with you! Arthur exclaims softly as he notices your eyes won’t stray from the icy window of the café you are both seated in. You felt your throat tighten at the phrase.

“Ce n’est pas grave, Arthur,” It doesn’t matter. It didn’t matter. Him being in love with you wasn’t always enough, or so you thought. He could barely commit to his ex-girlfriend. Could he commit to you? You couldn’t handle losing him if it didn’t work out. It was a recipe for disaster to begin with.

The two of you didn’t realize how dark it was already getting. Meaning you were for sure late to Pascale’s.

“Tu viendras avec moi?” Will you come with me?

“Bien sur.” Of course. You couldn’t not go. One, because you knew nothing but seeing Pascale will put a smile on your face. Two, Arthur wouldn’t let you leave this café without dragging you to his Maman’s first.

It was a short drive from the café to Pascale’s place. The limited size of the principality made the journey quick, allowing you to take in the charming scenery along the way. As you approached Pascale’s home, a smile graced your lips at the sight of the festive decorations adorning the steps.

Pascale’s touch was evident in the small Christmas trees, their lights casting a warm glow that sparkled beside the front door. The holiday spirit infused the air, creating a sense of coziness and anticipation.

The warmth of Pascale’s home enveloped you as Arthur swung the door open. His hand gently found its place on the small of your back, guiding you inside with a gesture that spoke of familiarity and care.

He assisted you in shedding the layers of clothes you wore. Your scarf and jacket were in his hands, swiftly finding their place on the nearby coat rack. Amidst the exchange, laughter bubbled up, a spontaneous reaction to the slightly comical struggle Arthur faced in unraveling the scarf from your neck.

The sound of shared laughter echoed through the entrance and into the home, allowing the others to become alert of your presence.

“Que se passe t’il?” What’s going on? You felt your laugh stop almost instantly.

Charles’ question hung in the air, and for a moment you were caught off guard. The warmth of Pascale’s cozy home surrounded you, but the sudden seriousness in his tone made you pause. You looked into his eyes, searching for any hints of the playful banter that usually characterized your interactions.

He stood not too far away, a soft white hoodie and a casual pair of jeans on. You felt your heart clench with want. You missed him. You wanted to hug him and never let go.

“Rien, juste une journée un peu folle,” Nothing, just a bit of a crazy day. You replied with a sheepish smile. Your attempt to brush off the question with a casual response didn’t escape Charles notice. He studied your face for a moment, trying to decipher your emotions.

Arthur, sensing some tension, guided you towards the living room and past Charles. As you both settled into the inviting cushions, the crackling sounds from the fireplace filled the room with a soothing rhythm.

Pascale entered the room carrying two glasses of wine. “Ma fille,” My girl she says, a term of endearment feeling much like a warm embrace to you. Pascale handed you one of the glasses with a tender smile, sealing the gesture with a gentle kiss on your cheek.

Charles’s unease didn’t go unnoticed as he took a seat on the sofa across from you and Arthur. The atmosphere seemed charged with tension, and Pascale’s seemingly casual question carried a weight that went beyond mere curiosity.

“Est-ce que tu vois quelqu’un?” Are you seeing anybody? Pascale asked, her tone gentle but perceptive. The question, on the surface, appeared to be a routine inquiry about your romantic life. However, the underlying context hinted at a concern born out of a missed dinner and deviation from the usual routine.

The atmosphere in the room shifted as you became acutely aware of Charles’s intense gaze beside Pascale. Seated on the couch, his eyes bore into you with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the very core of your being. His eyes, like embers, conveyed a myriad of emotions – curiosity, intensity, and perhaps a touch of scrutiny.

“Maman, laisse-la tranquille,” Leave her alone. Arthur speaks before you can. A sense of relief filling you up as you take a large gulp of the red wine in your glass.

Pascale scrunches her eyes at Arthur, poised to deliver a retort that only she knows. However, before any words escape her lips, the timer in the kitchen interrupts the moment. “Arthur, viens m’aider.” Come help me. Arthur gives you a sympathetic look before leaving the room following Pascale.

Lost in thought, your gaze fixates on the flickering flames within the fireplace. The dancing firelight casts shadows that capture your attention, creating a mesmerizing display that seems more captivating than acknowledging a brooding Charles, seated across from you.

“Tu ne peux pas m’ignorer éternellement,” You can’t ignore me forever. His voice interrupts your train of thought, gently pulling you back into the present moment.

The solitary sentence prompts an immediate eye roll from you. How dare he? How dare he pretend that you’re the only one at fault?

“Ne lève pas les yeux au ciel en me regardant,” Don’t roll your eyes at me. The atmosphere shifted as he rose from his seat on the couch, undoubtedly making his way to occupy the now vacant spot beside you. However, the nature of his touch became more intimate than you anticipated. His hands ventured onto your thigh, traveling higher than the boundaries of a typical friendship would permit.

In a disconcerting turn of events, his other hand gripped your jaw, redirecting your gaze to meet his. The sudden change in physical proximity and the assertiveness of his actions left palpable tension in the air.

“Vas y,” Make me. You provoked him deliberately, seeking to burrow beneath his skin, much like he had already done under yours.

“Viens chez moi.” Come home with me. It wasn’t posed as a question; rather, it was a firm demand – one you were aware you would yield to. You didn’t need to articulate your response; he could discern it just by the slow flicker of your eyes to his. Without another word, you withdrew your chin from his hands and stood up, making your way into the kitchen, and leaving him behind.

“Nous avons des choses à discuter.” We have more to discuss. You hear him say loud enough for you to hear but low enough for no one else to hear before you cross into the threshold of the kitchen.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Discuss.

You laughed mentally at the word. You and Charles were indisputably not engaging in anything resembling a discussion, that much was certain. Unless you consider the dirty phrases, he’s whispering in your ear a discussion.

“Tu es tellement sexy,” You’re so hot. Charles moans into your mouth as he pushes you onto his unmade bed, falling with you in the process. Both of your clothes were long gone— strewn along the pathway you took from his front door to his bed. “Faite pour moi, putain.” Fucking made for me.

He didn’t know where to look, darting from your thighs to your lips to your unforgettable eyes. His jaw flexed as he let out a soft growl deep in his chest as his finger hooked into the band of your delicate silk panties and ripped them from your body. “Je t’en achèterai advantage.” I’ll buy you more.

He was so impatient. Couldn’t even wait until he tossed your panties to the side before his mouth was on your center. You gasped as his lips enveloped your sensitive clit and getting a full taste of you. He moaned, dipping his tongue inside of you.

You really believed you could die right here and now. He pulled away momentarily just to look at you, glistening and moaning beneath him. It was a sight he wanted to burn in his memory forever.

“Tu me rends fou." You drive me insane.

You couldn’t stop moaning. You wanted to tell him that he was the one who drove you insane. That the feeling was more than mutual. But you were incoherent with pleasure. Incapable of words.

He curved two fingers inside of you, almost instantly rubbing your g-spot. “Yeah?” He edged you on. His words alone pushing you to the threshold of your orgasm. “Tu aimes ça?” You like that?

His words were nearly as perilous as his touch. He was smirking above you like the cocky motherfucker he was. You felt delusional as his fingers stroked your g-spot continuously that when he flipped you over and pulled you up to your knees, you let out a shriek of surprise.

You felt your orgasm closing in as he refused to let up on the assault of your clit. Your orgasm came so fast, you couldn’t even warn Charles before you were trembling all over his fingers.

“Oui, soak me.” Your orgasm was explosive, you could feel your legs shaking. Before you could even recover from the last orgasm, Charles was bringing his fingers that were coated in you to his mouth.

“J'ai vraiment besoin de toi,” I really need you. You muttered softly. The confession so raw. It made Charles heart clench with need to ravish you completely. To ruin you for anybody else.

His grip on your hips tightened as he slipped himself inside of you, eliciting a loud groan. “Mon dieu,”My God. He moaned. “Tu me fais me sentir si bien,” You make me feel so good.

Your pussy clenched tightly around him at his words. His breaths were jagged and heavy in your ear as he took you harder and harder.

“Ma salope,” My slut. He groaned, bottoming himself out. “My lucky.”

He could tell that you were there already again, the way you were squeezing him so tight and the clench of your hands trying to support you on the mattress.

“C’est si bien que ça?,” Is it that nice? “Gonna come for me?”

You did. Your eyes wet with tears from the intensity as his hands squeezed your hips, leaving bruises. He didn’t stop the assault on your pussy, kept pounding into you. He was ruthless.

He threw his head back with a string of curses before pressing soft kisses to your back. He didn’t bother to pull out. He wanted you full of him. In all ways, shapes, and forms. He was selfish. You were thankfully on the pill. He held himself there for a few moments before pulling out and rolling you over to your back so you could face him. He buried his face into your neck, leaving small gentle kisses as you both caught your breath.

Eventually Charles was able to find the strength to stand and clean you up, pressing a warm cloth to your center as he peppered small kisses to the inside of your thighs. You felt your heart flutter as he tossed the cloth into the hamper and joined you back in the bed, pulling you into his chest under the covers.

You could feel his mind was running a million miles a minute as he traced small circles on your skin. He wanted to ask if you went on any other dates. But he couldn’t handle if you said yes.

“Qu’est-ce que tu as en tête?” What’s on your mind? You asked.

You were preparing for yet another fight. There was no escaping it any longer. The only sound that filled the air was both of your breathing.

“Je veux que tu sois mienne.” I want you to be mine. As you lay on his chest, you sensed his heartbeat quickening. In response, a soft laugh escaped you, uncertain of how to reply. The weight of your reaction hung heavy in the air, adding more pressure.

You had to put a stop to this. You felt the panic constricting your throat. You couldn’t continue down this path with him. As you tried to sit up and distance yourself from Charles, his hand swiftly seized your arm, compelling you back towards him. He was determined to make you stay, refusing to let you escape from this conversation any longer.

“Non, arête de fuir le sujet,” No, stop running away from it. He insisted, urging you to stop evading it. “Il sait déjà que tu m’aimes,” I already know that you love me. He declared, his words rushing out of him uncontrollably. It was as if he couldn’t halt the flow, a sense of panic palpable in his voice.

You loved him; it wasn’t a secret. Fear held you back. The thought of losing him permanently if things didn’t work out was too daunting. So, you’ve tried to maintain a distance, but it was futile. It was as if he had become your vital source of oxygen – indispensable. You found yourself inextricably linked; your souls entwined.

“Je ne veux pas te perdre!” I don’t want to lose you. You felt the words rush out of your mouth in a frenzy. His touch, his stare, this conversation was all too much to handle.

“Je t’aime!” I love you! He repeated it over and over. He wouldn’t stop. You could see the anger forming in his face with each proclamation he made. He was angry. Why wouldn’t you listen? Why wouldn’t you believe him?

“Je suis bien avec toi!” I feel good when I’m with you!

“Tu me plait!” You make me happy!

“J’ai envie de t’embrasser!” I want to kiss you!

“Sans toi, je ne suis rien!” Without you, I am nothing!

“Tu es l’amour de ma vie!” You’re the love of my life!

“Je veux passer ma vie avec toi!” I want to spend my life with you!

“Mon dieu, I even breathe better when I’m with you.”

Tears spilled from your eyes, but he persisted, like a broken record playing an urgent message. His need for you to understand was palpable. He laid bare his soul, expressing that if it wasn’t for you, it would be no one. The pain in his chest mirrored the intensity of his emotions.

His hands held you tightly, rendering you incapable of moving. He needed you close. In response, you brought your hands to his face, swiftly pressing your lips against his.

You felt him grab your face during the kiss, his thumbs brushing the tears from your eyes in the process.

“You’re mine. My lucky,” he broke the kiss. “You’ve always been mine.”

Your gazes locked, and you held each other’s eyes for an extended moment, as if attempting to decipher the entirety of each other’s thoughts through this intense connection.

“Oui?” He asked softly, seeking confirmation. He needed to hear you say you were his, a moment he had been waiting for his entire life. He knew he had you now. But he wanted your words.

You recognized there was no longer an option to escape. You belonged to him, and it wasn’t up for discussion. He possessed your heart and soul entirely. You knew that you needed to take a risk. A risk for him.

You nodded your head slowly, “Oui.”

TAG LIST: @harrysdimple05 @rachyroo-99 @rana030

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagines #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc smut #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #lucky

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hope-drunk · 11 months

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SO HOT YOU'RE HURTING MY FEELINGS

| you and abby broke up a month ago, she creates a plan to get you back.

| wc: 3.5k

| content warnings: 18+ MDNI! set in modern day, alcohol, f!reader, strap usage (reader receiving), oral (reader receiving), pet names, abby's a little mean if you squint, a bit angsty, barely proofread.

| a/n: inspired by the song 'so hot you're hurting my feelings' by caroline polachek

You didn’t know much, but you did know one thing; Abby Anderson shouldn’t be messed with. You two had broken it off over a slight argument, you didn’t understand why she couldn’t see your side of the story and accept that you weren’t flirting back with her teammate. When you two had the argument over it, the floodgates opened, and you and Abby had laid it all out on the table. By the end of it, you had stormed out of her apartment and went back to yours, finalizing the breakup with a text. You hadn’t talked to her since. The ‘we’re over’ text had been left on read for over a month.

It didn’t stop the hurt though, you looked back through the messages everyday, even though they made you slightly cringe now. It had all been so simple. You spent every second together, and when you weren’t together, there were hundreds of texts to make up for it. You honestly didn’t know how you were still breathing, you missed her more than anything. The rage wore off after the first week, and you haven’t been able to bounce back. But tonight you were dragged to a party by your roommate, and you figured, why not, it was fine to get a little drunk to deal with your feelings every once in a while.

The idea was that you’d be set free by the alcohol; to let loose a little. And you did! You had fun for a solid forty-seven minutes before the fun was disrupted. The second your and Abby’s song turned onto the loud speakers, you were done for. You walk off into the open bathroom and sit down onto the closed lid of the toilet. Your head falls into your hands. The song had sobered you up quick. You take your phone out of your skirt pocket to do what you usually do when you get reminded of Abby, ready to open the instagram app and scroll along her profile, and you would’ve been content doing that, until your phone lights up with a text from her. You open it immediately.

“What the fuck?” You mumble.

You scroll through the multiple photos she’s sent you; all of her at the gym, flexing her muscles. She starts typing, and you feel your heart drop to your stomach.

sorry, wrong person.

You can’t help the scoff that comes out of your mouth. “Seriously?” You say, again, only to yourself.

You don’t give her a response, simply setting your phone on the sink and rubbing a hand over your face. It’s like she knew. She knew you were tipsy and about to stalk her. She knew that you heard the stupid song that you danced around her apartment to. You swear it was a secret sense of hers.

After about ten minutes, you go back out into the party; beelining for the alcohol table. You pour the liquid into a plastic red cup, estimating what you think would be a shot, and send it down the hatch. You were entirely too sober to deal with this situation.

“Hey there, you alright?” Your roommate yells over the loud music.

“She fucking sent me pictures, of her– of her muscles.” You say, now that you were standing, the alcohol started to have its effects again.

“What? Seriously? I’m sorry. Why, exactly?”

“I don’t know, she said wrong person.” you try not to let the tears escape your eyes, not wanting to cause a scene.

“Okay, well, fuck. That’s kind of worse. Did you text her back?” She says, giving you a panicked look.

“Of course not, what am I supposed to say?”

“It’s gonna be alright, let’s just have fun, okay?” She smiles at you, trying to reassure you of her words.

You nod your head and she moves you back onto the dance floor. Again, with the alcohol in your system, you start to have a good time again. You dance and laugh and have fun; you don’t even check your phone. You don’t keep track of how much you keep drinking, but you’re sporting a hefty buzz by the time you sit down on the couch for a break. Your head spins as you pull out your phone to check the time. The bright 2:13 stares back at you, and then your attention is caught by a notification on your phone, Abby has refollowed you on instagram. You groan, hadn’t she done enough tonight?

Suddenly, you felt the overwhelming urge to call her, even though you know you shouldn’t. You were doing so good, so good! And a few pictures and an instagram notification were enough to convince drunk-you that calling her was a good idea. You walk down the staircase of the apartment complex and go outside to the picnic table that sits in front of the building. You recognize some people from the party smoking, but you don’t pay them any mind. You open Abby’s contact on your phone. Your finger hovers over the call button. Should you really do this? Should you reopen this wound that you were working so hard to close? But on the otherhand, should Abby be allowed to fuck with you like this? No, no. She had to know that she needed to stop. You press the call button and bring your phone to your ear, listening to it ring.

She picks up after the third ring, “Um, hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I need you to stop. I don’t want to see pictures of you being hot at the gym and I don’t want you to follow me on instagram. We’re done, so I don’t know why you’d send me pictures and when I don’t respond you follow me again. I really– I can’t do this, okay?” You ramble into the phone, the alcohol gives you more courage than you would’ve had sober.

“Okay, well, the photos were an accident–”

“Bullshit,” you cut her off. “That’s bullshit. And I know it is, because I know you.”

“Are you drunk right now?

“I’m at a party, yeah. That’s why I need you to stop. I’m having fun.”

“I’m coming to get you.” You hear a muffled noise of bed sheets being pushed off her body.

“No, you’re not. You don’t know where I am.” You say smugly.

“You think I don’t get invited to the same parties that you do, sweetheart? I’m on my way.” Abby says, she hangs up the phone directly after so you can’t talk back.

You feel hot all over. The anger and the alcohol heat you up. You already regret the call, and now you have to deal with telling your roommate that Abby is coming to get you. You decide to text her instead of telling her to her face. The alcohol gave you confidence, but not enough to tell her that you were being picked up by the girl who’d left you bedridden for two days.

so, funny story, abby is on her way to pick me up, sorry. see u later ok?

You put your phone back into your pocket after sending the message, not daring to pull it back out once it starts vibrating. You sit on the table and wait for Abby’s car to pull up in front of the building. You will yourself to sober up before seeing her. You know that your mouth will betray you if you try to speak to her while you’re drunk. You also know that you won’t be as brave as you were over the phone. Talking shit behind the screen is one thing, but being face to face with Abby is another. She’s so intimidating, even now. Her height and her build, the calm expression she has on her face at all times. The most you could get out of her was a jaw twitch, and that was only if you had been arguing for a few hours.

You hear her car before you see it; her brakes have always been squeaky. She pulls up fast, having to slam on the brakes to fully stop in front of you. It seems like she hasn’t forgotten her manners, because before you can open the door of her car, she’s getting out of the driver’s seat and opening it for you. Once you sit down, she even buckles your seatbelt. Honestly, she was making it really hard to stay mad. The action almost makes you cry again.

She walks back to her side and gets in, putting the car in drive and speeding off. You turn your legs towards the door and put your chin in your hand. Abby scoffs at the childish action, but doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have music playing on the radio, so all you hear is the wind rustling through the open windows. Your hair flies back and forth, and you make a big display of trying to smooth it down. Abby's hair is always in a braid, so she doesn’t see a problem with driving like this.

Before you know it, you’re pulling into a parking spot at Abby’s apartment complex. This time you’re quicker than her, unbuckling the seatbelt and opening the car door.

“I don’t want to come in.” You say. “I thought you were taking me to my place.” A lie, you figured she would bring you here, but you were scared to go in; scared of the memories it would bring up.

“You’re coming inside, so…” She trails off, waving her hand towards the door.

Your eyes well up, you look down at your feet so she doesn’t see. “Can you just take me home, please?”

“No, get inside. We need to talk.” The voice she uses sobers you up quicker than anything else ever could.

When you walk into her apartment, you take a seat on her dark brown couch. She walks to the kitchen and gets you a bottle of water, taking the lid off and handing it to you once she’s back into the living room. She sits on a chair across from you, putting her elbows onto her thighs and watching you greedily gulp down the water.

It does help your head feel a bit clearer, “Thank you.” You say to her.

“Let’s talk,” she says.

“About what, Abby?”

“About why we should get back together.”

You laugh at her, it’s loud and obnoxious; one only she could pull from you. “Why would we do that?”

“Because I know you, and I know you miss me. I miss you too. I miss having you here every second and I miss texting you when you’re not here.”

“Okay, so, that’s not how this is going to work. You can’t just say you miss me without addressing why we broke up in the first place.”

She moves her chair closer to you. “And why did we break up in the first place?”

You scoff, “Because you’re possessive, and you have a jealousy issue. I talked to Mara for three seconds and we had a three hour long argument over it.”

“You used to like how possessive I was, you said it was one of your favorite things about me.”

“I did like it, I liked it when you were subtle with it. What I don’t like is getting crucified for speaking to another girl.”

“Crucified, really? God, you’re fucking dramatic.”

You huff; take another sip of your water. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to come in.” You mumble.

“Speak up for me, please. Y’know I hate it when you mumble.” Abby says, her patience running thin.

“I said that this is why I didn’t want to come in. I knew it would just be the fight all over again. I didn’t do anything wrong. She asked me how my classes were going, Abby.”

“Yeah, she also asked other girls on the team how serious we were, because she was trying to get in your fucking pants.” Abby snips, getting up out of the chair so that she can pace around.

Your mouth opens and closes. You hadn’t known that Mara was talking about you like that. She had flirted with you in the past. She was in your major, so you saw her around your lecture halls and at various parties hosted by other people you had in common. You had flirted back a few times, but it was nothing serious, just some fun banter at a few parties. She had stopped once you and Abby became official, so you thought that was the end of it. Obviously, it wasn’t.

You clear your throat, “Okay, I didn’t know that.”

“But you knew that she tried to before.”

“Abby, I’m serious when I say that nothing ever happened between us, and especially not when we were together. Do you actually believe I would cheat on you?”

Abby puts her hands on her hips and lets out a sigh, “No, I don’t.”

“So why did you fight with me over someone else’s actions?”

She sits back down in the chair. “I don’t know.”

You go and stand in front of her, she doesn’t look up at you, so you crouch down on the floor.

After a while, she speaks, “Maybe I do have a jealousy problem.”

You laugh, and she cracks a smile. “Yeah, I think you do.”

“I’m sorry, really.” She says, making sure to look directly into your eyes. “I mean it. I fucked up, but I wanna fix it. I do miss you, a lot.”

“I miss you too.” You admit. It’s quiet again, Abby brushes your hair off of your face. You can’t help but lean into her touch, her large palm is warm; it feels familiar, it feels like home. You blink up at her, “Are you going to admit that the photos were for me?”

She laughs and sniffles, you hadn’t even realized she had started crying. “Yeah, whatever. They were for you.”

You look down and laugh again. “God, I missed that sound.” Abby says.

She pulls you off the ground and places you in her lap. You touch your forehead to hers, staring intently into her eyes, her pupils seem to have expanded since earlier this evening, and you’re sure yours were just as large. You brush your nose against hers and lean your face down. If either of you were to twitch, your lips would touch.

“We gonna do this?” Abby says, barely above a whisper. Scared that if she talked louder you’d get spooked and run away.

“Make up sex sounds good to me.” You agree.

It feels like there’s a different Abby now. A hungry wolf that’s been waiting to be set free. She kisses you with such force that you move back on her lap. If she didn’t have her hands holding you up, you might’ve fallen off. Your hips grind down into her by instinct, trying to search for some friction to soothe the ache between your legs. Abby pushes your hips down onto her thigh and rolls them, forcing you to grind on the strong muscle. She doesn’t stop kissing you even for a second. You think if Abby had a superpower, it would be sex.

Suddenly she’s standing, you wrap your legs around her waist and your arms around her neck; she still doesn’t break the kiss. She brings you into her bedroom, and you feel your eyes well up with tears. The wave of relief it sends through you is insane. You didn’t know if you’d ever be back in this room, under Abby. You didn’t know if you’d ever see her pillows or her closet again. It sounds silly, but you’ve truly missed everything about her.

She pulls away panting, “Why y’crying, baby?”

“I don’t know. Missed you; missed this room.”

She smiles and leans back down for a kiss, it’s less heated; more loving. She pushes the shirt you’re wearing up and places kisses down your stomach. You gasp as she lightly drags her tongue right above where your skirt starts. Your hips lift, urging her to take it off; urging her to get closer to where you need her.

“Gonna make it up to you, okay? Gonna make you feel so fucking good, not even gonna remember why we broke up.”

“Okay, please.” You say back to her. You place your hand on the top of her head, slowly unraveling the tight braid she has in.

She doesn’t even take the time to take off the black maxi skirt you have on, just pushes it up your legs and takes off your panties. She stares at your cunt for a few seconds. You can feel her hot breath fanning over it. A whine falls from your lips; and suddenly she’s licking a stripe up your slit.

A moan comes from your chest. You haven’t been touched the whole month, not even by yourself. Every time you tried to masturbate, you just thought about sex with Abby, which only made you upset. You snap out of your thoughts when you feel Abby suck on your clit, it sends you reeling. You push her face further into you, and your thighs close in on her head. The noises you’re making are absurd. You’re sure her neighbors are going to leave a note on the door, but at this moment you couldn’t care less.

It’s embarrassing how fast the coil gets tight in your stomach.

“Fuck– Abby, think I’m gonna–” you can’t get a full sentence out. The words begin and end on your tongue.

She pulls her mouth away and presses her fingers into your clit, rubbing tight circles on it. “Already, bunny? Just got started.”

“I know.” It comes out whiner than you wanted it to. “I know, I’m sorry. Just feels so good.”

“That’s alright, sweetheart. Come when you wanna, I’ll be right here.” Her mouth reconnects with your cunt.

You think it’s about ten seconds before you’re coming. You let the tears fall freely for the first time tonight. You feel so happy, your chest gets tight. Your hips grind into Abby’s mouth. She’s always been like this; staying latched onto your cunt until your orgasm is done. You cry out at the overstimulation once you’re back on Earth. She removes her mouth to shush you, pressing more kisses to your neck and moving your hair off of your sweaty forehead. Your head is reeling, your vision is blurry.

Abby comes up and kisses you on your cheek. “You want the strap?”

A wave of arousal flows through you at the mention of it, “Would it be make up sex without it?”

She laughs and gets off the bed, going to her closet to retrieve the box where it’s stored. She strips while she’s over there, and puts her clothes in the dirty laundry. Always so neat, can never have anything out of place. Once she gets it settled on her waist, she comes back over to you.

“You ready, baby?”

You nod your head.

“Words, please.” She gives you a soft smile. “You forget your manners?”

“No,” you say, voice hoarse from the moaning. “I’m ready, Abby.”

She lines up the strap with your hole, and gently eases it in. You pant. You didn’t forget your manners, but you did forget how good the stretch feels. She bottoms out; the strap kisses the sweet spot inside of you.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

“Is this okay?” She asks. She’s staring down at where her hips meet yours and you can tell she’s fighting off the urge to thrust into you until you answer her.

“Yes, can you just– please move.”

Abby doesn’t need to be asked twice. Her hips grind into yours with all the force in the world. You can tell that the strap is hitting her clit because of the grunts she’s letting out. The room feels humid at this point, and you’re sure it stinks of sex.

“You’re mine, yeah? No one else can ever have you.”

“You have–” you’re interrupted by a moan as she starts rubbing at your clit again. “You have a jealousy problem.”

Abby scoffs, “Gonna give me fucking attitude right now? When I’ve got my cock buried in this pretty little pussy?”

You whimper at your words. You always get off on Abby telling you off. You love how dominating she is. You love watching her brows raise when you say something questionable. You can’t help but rile her up.

“You do, it’s bad. You need to work on it.”

“Stop being a brat and come on my fucking cock.”

Her words send you over the edge, this time further than you think you’ve ever been. She follows you soon after, keeping the strap buried in you while her orgasm washes over her. When you both come back, she’s fallen beside you, the silicone lays on the floor. She breathes deeply beside you.

“So…” You say.

“So what, baby?” Abby says. She decides you’re too far away and pulls you into her chest.

“Are we back together?”

She laughs at you, really laughs. Like you’ve just said the funniest thing in the world. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

You start laughing too, “Well, I don’t know!”

“Yeah, we’re back together.”

Your smile widens and you hide your face in her chest, suddenly embarrassed by the question that slipped out.

“Okay, well good.” You say.

You drift off like that, content to be back in Abby’s arms. Happy to be home.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson angst #abby anderson fan fiction #abby anderson x you #abby anderson fic #abby anderson x female reader #abby !#tlou fic

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multiwreckedmess · 2 months

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February Filth Fest - Day 20

Pairing: Owner!San x Kitten!reader Prompt: Collaring/Deepthroat WC: 1.9k Summary: PWOP pretty much. You’re San’s favorite kitty girl so he gets you a cute collar to try out during your session,

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent San or any Ateez member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. TW/CW (nonspecific): Collars, dom/sub relationship, preestablished boundaries, bodily fluids, fem pronouns and terms used for reader, subspace. Extended TW/CW under the cut

TW/CW Extended: Deepthroat, throat bulge, egregious use of the terms “kitten, kitty”, lots of praise for the reader, very light scolding, vaguely instructional San, color system, everything is kept pretty playful and loving so it seems more vanilla but it’s nawt.

“I bought something special for tonight,” he says, revealing a large flat velvet box and offering it to you. Inside a delicate purple collar sits, simple but well made, small gold bell attached to the D ring, glittering brightly. You gasp, eyes wide. “Oh Sannie! It’s your favorite color!” “My favorite color on a collar on my kitty!” He bounces excitedly along the syllables, taking the collar from the box to fasten around your neck. “Pretty kitty,” he smiles, hand swatting at the small bell on your collar. “My pretty kitty looks so cute!” He elongates the ‘so’ running his forefinger between your neck and the leathery material, giving it the smallest of tugs. “Does it fit well? Not too tight?” You nod, the bell tinkles cutely with the bob of your head. With some force you ram the top of your head directly into his chest, rubbing your face and hair all over. Thumb petting behind your ear, San is beaming. “We aren’t in the scene yet, you can speak.” “I know, I just like doing it,” you giggle and bunt him again, more forcefully this time. Muscles tensing, he’s a hard one to knock over, like his name suggests. A defender, your defender, a job that San took very seriously. “You’re so eager to be non-verbal today aren’t you?” You nod and bat your eyelashes before returning to rubbing your body against his.

Looking at you his heart swells and aches. Darker whispers in his mind repeat words about owning and possessing, claiming. His, you are his, and the collar proves this. The collar that sits dainty on your neck is proof of his devotion to you. “Be a good kitty and sit pretty for me,” he coos. Kneeling at his feet, you try your best to follow his instructions, as simple as they are. Still you can’t help but press your face into the growing bulge in his slacks, eagerly nuzzling into his crotch and thighs. San clicks his tongue, “didn’t I tell you to be good?” He asks while subtly grinding into your soft kisses. Hypocritical encouragement of bad behavior, doting on you as always. You motion a nod but don’t stop. He smells so unmistakably him, a sharp citrusy masculine mixing with the soft natural scent of his skin. The anticipation of the events to come, the love you feel in your heart, and excitement of your current position all work to overwhelm you. You want to bite and squeeze and mark. Your hands act on your behalf, squeezing his ass suddenly, without prior approval from your brain. Strongly and firmly his hand tugs you backwards by the scruff of your neck, tilting your face up to him. “No,” his tone deepens into his chest, quiet but forceful. “Good kitties keep pretty paws.” Pouting and huffing you stick out your lower lip, waiting for him to smile down at you. Instead he cocks and eyebrow and waits for you to tuck your hands neatly behind you. Only then does one corner of his mouth begin to creep up into a smile. “No matter how well I train you, you still find a new way to surprise me.” San mumbles more for himself than for you, releasing his grasp on you to undo his belt. His smile continues to grow as he watches the glint of excitement in your eye turn to lust. Barely undoing the button at the top of his slacks. “Since you were so excited before, how about you help me the rest of the way?” Your eyes flick to the zipper, yet to be undone. Spit pools in your mouth which you gulp down hungrily. Craning your neck you manage to snag the pull of the zipper between your lips and teeth and start to tug it down. Using your hands would be easier but, kittens certainly don’t have that option. San sucks in air sharply, eyes rolling back in his head as you mouth at him in the guise of undoing his pants. You feel so warm and soft even as you work eagerly away, and San loves warm and soft. He hovers just behind your head, just close enough to feel your hair brush into his palm as you move but not enough to restrict your efforts. It takes everything inside of him to keep himself from grinding against you again. The drag of the fabric pinned to the yielding plumpness of your cheeks would feel heavenly, he knows it would. He could lose himself to that easily when that is very much not the plan tonight. But maybe some other time.

You manage to pull the slacks down over his hips and to his thighs, letting gravity work to take them the rest of the way off, and sit back on heels incredibly pleased with yourself. San looks positively flushed in front of you, outline of his straining cock pressed to the dark cotton of his underwear.

Hand cupping your chin once more San runs the pad of his thumb down over your lips, tugging gently at the bottom one. Puffy and warm to the touch, its everything he’d been holding out for. He continues to trail down to your throat, where his newest mark of ownership rests. It’s really a collar more for show than for real usage but it doesn’t take much for you to follow him. The tiny bell jingles as San slides his index finger under the collar, almost taunting you for your easy acquiescence. He watches your eyes sparkle as his other hand pulls the waistband of his underwear down, just enough for his cock to bounce proudly over it against his toned stomach, free from confines and ready. The pretty dusty pink head has cum beginning to bead along the slit, unrepressed by fabric. Quickly you lap at it, tiny little licks as you stare up at him, waiting for his reaction.

San shudders, biting the inside of his lip to keep himself from moaning. “Eager kitten,” his tone warns, “are you acting out because you’re so hungry?” You nod, pressing the tip between your lips, just barely covering it as you continue to suckle. His hips press forward into your yielding mouth, not deep enough to pose a challenge. He holds you there, finger crooked around your collar as your lips stretch and work to fit his girth. “God it’s like your soft little mouth was just made for me, hungry girl,” he moans. Gradually your mouth warms to his shallow thrusts almost enough that he’s sliding past the tight ring of muscle at the back of your throat. You can certainly feel the spongy head of his cock bumping into it but never pushing past it. San stretches your lips just a little wider, inserting his thumb into the side of your cheek and pulling you taut, drool seeping out around him. “Messy kitty,” his voice is gravelly as he groans. You look absolutely fucked out, eyes big and round, looking up at him in a daze. Back arched, your ass looks fantastic as you kneel below him. “Big breath for me, okay kitten?” He pulls from you and pets your head, waiting a second for you to collect yourself before he pushes all the way in, past that ring, until your nose is brushing his pubic area. Your throat works around him, flexing and fighting back soft gags. His gut twists, thigh cramping, he’s close from this alone. San releases the back of your head waiting for you to follow.

You have other ideas, hands quickly grabbing his hips to get a few more bobs in, proof of devotion, that you’re a good kitty. Nails grazing your scalp, San’s fist tightens around a chunk of hair as he pulls you from him fully. Tears streaking your cheeks, nose running, drool bubbling at the corners of your mouth you blink up at him, doe eyed. “Do good kitties use their claws?” You shake your head no. A few swipes of his thumbs smears the mixture of bodily fluids. Chasing the warmth of his palm you try to nuzzle him, a consolation for your misbehaving, but he withdraws. “Then you’re going to have to be reminded how to be a good kitty aren’t you?” You practically wiggle out of your skin in excitement, nodding your head exuberantly. Pulling you gently by the collar up onto the nearby bed, he uses it more as a guide than a choke, positioning you just so your head hangs over the edge closest to him. He’s unbelievably gentle with your hair as he guards it from getting caught between your body and the bed. Even looking up at him upside down like this, hearing him shuffle the remainder of his clothes off, you’re smitten.

“I know you don’t want to but I need to hear you say it out loud babe,” San strokes himself with one hand slowly, lustful eyes raking your spread out form. “What’s your color and what do you do if you want me to slow or stop?” “Green,” you stretch long down to your toes before sighing. “Two taps to slow and pinch to stop.” He laughs as you look up at him expectantly, head twisting side to side to better catch the full view of him. “Don’t worry kitty, you’re gonna be fed.” San says as he taps the tip of his cock against your lips. “Open up nice and wide for me, like a good girl.”

Tongue lolling out again, mouth wide for easy access, he slides into your warm wet cavern, fucking you shallowly at first. Supporting the back of your neck his thumbs caress the sides of your throat, tiny concentric circles over and over. He enjoys watching the way your fingers and toes curl in anticipation the nearer he gets to the tight ring of muscle that flexes each time he bumps against it.

It’s as fast as a pop when he manages to push through and down your throat. Your body convulses once before stiffening and calming as San pets your stomach. “There you go, sweet thing, just hold it for a second,” he coos and coaxes. Glancing down, San marvels, watching your throat flex and strain into the collar. Two thumbs pressed to the side he can feel how you widen and stretch to accommodate his girth, the gargled sound of moans reverberating through his shaft. “Just a little more for me pet.” A moan escapes him, loud and uncontrolled, almost a yelp as he loses himself to feeling of you desperately trying to swallow him all the way down. “When i come out just spit it all out kitten okay? Just spit out all that nasty stuff caught in your throat.”

As he pulls out he tilts your head over. You cough and splutter and spit mucus thickened with precum. Your lungs stutter and spasm, the availability of air grown unfamiliar. A soft towel greets your lips before your eyes can open, careful to keep you just clean enough. “Color?” “S’green, more.” You spit with determination. San kisses your forehead. “That’s my girl. Just a little more and I’ll eat my kitties cute lil’ pussy until she screams.” Your thighs clench at the promise, San softly chuckles as your knees knock together. It’s going to be a good night.

#Choi San smut #San smut #ateez smut #ateez san smut #ateez choi san smut #kpop smut #February Filth Fest

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rhoorl · 8 months

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Delta Landscaping | Chapter 2

The Neighborhood Watch Begins

Series Summary: In this AU, the boys of Delta Force start a new business post-Colombia.

Series Masterlist

Rating: Explicit (18+) - not right away, but putting this here as a blanket rating

Word Count: 3.7k

Chapter Warnings: Two of the characters we meet in this chapter are widows, and there is a brief mention of how both of their husbands passed.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love and amazing feedback on Chapter 1! It seriously tickles me that there are others who find this universe as hilarious and fun as I do.

Although the Triple Frontier boys are the stars of the show, I wanted to explore some of their neighbors’ stories as well. Who knows, maybe some of these characters may play a larger role down the line. One of the neighbors we meet in this chapter, Lucille, is particularly dear to me because she is loosely based on my late abuela.

Finally, one last thing before this chapter – we go slightly back in time from where we ended Chapter 1. This chapter starts a few weeks after Will and Benny move in. Ok, I’m done rambling now … back to Torrey Hills and the shenanigans of Mulefall Court. *cue the Real Housewives music bump*

“¡Mierda! I have more cilantro than I know what to do with,” Lucille says to herself as she grabs some cilantro from her herb garden. “Ay, Julio, I think I’m going to make the boys some food today. Sweet Francisco liked the frijoles I brought over last week and if I have time, I can make some empanadas. Benny practically inhaled them the last time I took them over,” Lucille chuckles to herself.

She had gotten better about not talking to Julio, it had been a year and a half since he passed, but every once in a while she would still talk to him like he was right there next to her.

Lucille and Julio Alvarez were one of the first residents to move to Torrey Hills back in the 90s. The pair saw every neighbor come and go from the block. Julio was the unofficial mayor of Mulefall Court, always inviting neighbors over to his house for get-togethers. And Lucille was the perfect hostess – the life of the party, who could carry a conversation with anyone with anyone, dance, and still manage to find enough time to put together a spread worthy of a Food Network cooking show.

Although they never had children of their own, the couple loved kids and quickly became pseudo-grandparents to the children on the block, including Megan’s son Connor.

Megan and her late husband Jacob moved to Torrey Hills when Connor was four. From the outside, they seemed like a perfect family – young, successful, good-looking, and happy.

Then, Megan’s life was drastically turned upside down one Saturday in January. Jacob went cycling early in the morning, a light mist resting above the ground. It was a weekend routine of his, to go for an early ride before he and Megan would take Connor somewhere fun like the zoo or aquarium.

Unfortunately, he did not make it home that morning. A distracted driver collided with him and he was pronounced dead at the scene. Suddenly, Megan found herself thrust into life as a single mother, trying to piece her life together while continuing to raise her son.

Lucille and Julio helped however they could – babysitting Connor when Megan had to unexpectedly work late or finding an excuse to take him on an adventure to the park or ice cream shop, any way to get him out of the house so Megan had some time to herself.

As Connor grew up, Lucille and Julio were right there. Julio, a former professional baseball player, was the one who taught Connor how to throw a baseball. He tried to influence the boy’s athletic endeavors and supported him in whatever he wanted to do, even though it did break his heart a little when Connor developed an obsession with basketball.

They celebrated birthdays, took day trips to Disney World, and Lucille and Julio were there the day Megan surprised Connor with the dog he had always dreamed of, a corgi he named Bucky after his favorite Marvel character.

The kindness, care, and compassion Lucille extended to Megan was reciprocated nearly a decade to the day after Jacob's death. After a quiet battle with cancer, Julio passed away peacefully with Lucille at his side. It was the first time in 50 years that Lucille had been away from Julio for more than a couple of days.

The couple grew up down the street from each other in Cuba, their families were longtime friends. They both immigrated around the same time, but lost contact. Julio came to the United States by himself ahead of his mother and spent a few years in Sacramento, while Lucille and her family went to Miami. After his mother finally came to the United States, Julio made the trip out to meet her in Miami. It didn’t take long for Julio and Lucille to find each other again and once Lucille turned 18, they decided to get married.

Megan and Connor stepped up for her while they were both mourning as well. They visited Lucille throughout the week, sometimes just to stop by to say hi, other times stopping by to cook a meal together, play board games, or watch the Game Show Network, Lucille always loved Family Feud.

Connor placed a lot of pressure on himself to not only be the man of his own home, but Lucille’s as well. Over the years, Julio tried to teach Connor how to do minor home repairs, to varying degrees of success. Without Julio, Connor took to YouTube and TikTok to not only learn how to fix things but also come up with little fun projects he could do to bring a smile to Lucille’s face, or Lulu as he called her. He taught himself how to make a planter box for her herbs as a surprise and tried his hand at mending her fence following a tropical storm.

Lucille and Megan went through a lot over the past 12 years experiencing a range of emotions from heartbreak to pure happiness. Also, over that time, the duo became the defacto neighborhood welcoming committee. Although they weren’t super close with every single one of their neighbors, they tried to extend some semblance of hospitality to everyone who moved in – including to the two handsome men who moved directly next door to Lucille.

Will and Benny were quick to befriend Lucille after she greeted them one day with a tray of lemonade and cookies as they were out working on their front lawn with their two equally handsome friends in tow. She found the boys were courteous neighbors, always asking if she needed help around the house.

Although she didn’t want all of the fuss, she would humor them by having them fix small things for her like changing a lightbulb or fixing a leak in her bathroom. She was careful to not give them too many jobs, keeping small tasks aside for her favorite neighbor and frequent visitor, Connor.

But, she was in awe at the complete transformation of 319 Mulefall Court from its sad, dilapidated look to a pristine, beautiful home any HGTV show would love to feature. And as much as she loved Connor, the boy oftentimes caused more problems than he fixed. So, when she was sitting on her front porch reading a book, she stopped Benny on his way home after a jog.

“Hola Ms. Lucille,” Benny waved to his neighbor. He had taken his shirt off during his run, tucking it into the waistband of his athletic shorts, so he quickly slipped it back on as he made his way up her driveway.

“I speak English, Benjamin,” Lucille snorted. She liked to tease him about speaking Spanish, but she was actually quite impressed with how much Spanish Benny actually understood. When she would kid with Francisco and Santiago, she found Benny laughing along with them, following the conversation. He definitely knew more than he let on, but was always a bit apprehensive about trying to speak, especially around his friends.

“Sorry, I have to practice when I can. I just … I feel like I’ve learned more living next to you these last few weeks than all the years I’ve known Fish and Pope,” he laughed nervously as he took off his hat and ruffled his hair.

“I’m just playing with you, mi cielo. Besides, those two probably just taught you all of the bad words,” she winked.

“You’re not wrong there,” he smiled. “Hey, when I was in the back yesterday I noticed another part of your fence that looks like it may need some mending. Want me to come over sometime this week?”

“Oh you don’t have to bother with all of that, it’s fine,” she waved him off.

“C’mon, I can’t just sit there and let you have a hole in your fence. Just, let me fix it.” He leaned against the railing on her porch.

She couldn’t resist the puppy dog eyes he was giving her. She had to give it to him, he was a charmer.

“Ok, but on one condition,” she raised her eyebrow as he nodded. “You have to have Connor help you. The boy could stand to have some nice young men to look up to and learn a thing or two from.”

Benny blushed. He didn’t feel like he was a person anyone should ever look up to, not with his past and the things he had done and seen. He didn’t quite know how to respond to Lucille.

She sensed a darkness flicker over the man in front of her. Although she had only known Benny for a couple of weeks, she always saw him as a happy-go-lucky, energetic, yet sweet and considerate man. But seeing how he reacted to her comment, she knew there was something that troubled him.

“Besides,” she decided to cut the awkward silence. “He spends too much time with me, and as hip as I am, I can’t quite relate to him all of the time anymore. It was easier when he was younger.”

“I gotcha, Ms. Lucille. I’ll talk to Megan about getting Connor over here with us and we’ll all fix the fence as…um…un equipo,” he smiled.

_______________________

The next morning on her walk with Bucky, Megan spotted Benny in the garage cleaning the lawn mower.

"Careful or we may all end up hiring you to do our lawns too!" She called over to him with a wink.

He was crouched down facing away from her, a wet patch forming on the small of his back from the sweat. He stopped what he was doing and turned around to see who was talking. Seeing it was Megan (and Bucky), he quickly got up, wiped his hands on a towel, and walked to the front of the driveway.

"Oh hey Mrs. Me- I mean, hey Megan! Ha, I figure you all already have people to do that."

“By people, you mean a 16-year-old who I pay in pizza rolls and video games,” she laughed. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I like what you've done with the place, the flowers are really pretty."

Benny was proud of the work he and the boys had done, so any excuse to hear compliments made him grin from ear to ear.

"Thanks, it's been a fun…distraction. I like having projects, I’m actually going to help Ms. Lucille this week and fix her fence with the boys. Do you think that’s something Connor may want to help with? I heard he’s kinda handy. I don’t want to creep in on his territory…”

"Uh oh, are you going to make me the one to tell him there is some hot new competition on the block doing home repairs!"

Benny blushed and took his hat off briefly to comb through his hair before putting it back on.

“I think it’s nice that you want to help Lucille. God love him, but Connor tries to help but he isn’t as … skilled as you guys. He’s had to learn everything by himself.”

“I’m happy to teach him – I’m not a professional by any means, I leave that to my cousins,” Benny cracked a smile. “But I know my way around some tools, enough to be handy.”

“Yea, I think he’d like that. Since Julio passed, Connor doesn’t really have too many men to talk to besides his coach. I think he’d like to … I don’t know, talk with you guys? No pressure or anything, I’m not looking to impose.”

Benny smiled, knowing there was a lot left unsaid. He hadn’t asked too much about either Megan or Ms. Lucille’s past, he just knew both women were widows. But he knew even less about Connor. From what he had seen, he seemed like a good kid, he clearly was if Megan raised him.

“Cool, well maybe between him and the guys and me we can get it done faster so he can go back to playing video games or whatever the hell else kids do these days,” he chuckled. “I’ll text you when we figure out which day we’re going to do it, we’ll probably need to make a Home Depot run or something so maybe he can come with us for that too?”

"Awesome, hey thanks. I think he’ll find it fun," she smiled back at him and turned to continue her walk.

"Wait!" He called, wanting to catch her before she walked away.

"I have something for Bucky, hold up."

He jogged back to the opened garage to a container marked "treats" and pulled out a Milkbone bar.

"This ok to give him?" He showed Megan the treat as Bucky perked up, his little legs going tippy tap on the pavement.

"Oh shit, now he's going to make a beeline here every walk," she sighed.

___________________________

Later that day, Megan and Connor came over to visit Lucille after she called saying she had some leftover empanadas, one of Connor’s weaknesses. As the duo walked towards Lucille’s, Megan took stock of the cars parked in the 319 Mulefall Court driveway, thanks in part to Connor who helped her identify the makes and models: a red Jeep Wrangler, a black TransAm, a green Colorado truck, and a white Volvo C70 convertible.

“Looks like it’s a full house over there, wonder if they’re having a party,” Megan nodded toward the driveway. “Speaking of, I was talking to Benny, he asked if maybe you wanted to go over and help the guys with a project at Lulu’s this week.”

“What project? She hasn’t told me anything needed to be fixed,” Connor looked confused.

“Oh, he mentioned it was something about her fence – I guess he can see it from his backyard. Could be fun for you to have some help? Could learn something…”

Megan hadn’t had a chance to broach the subject with her son and she was a little unsure how he would react.

Connor took a second before responding. “Y-yea, I mean. If they don’t mind.”

“Oh no, it was Benny’s idea!”

“Uh, ok. Yea, that’s cool.”

Megan smiled to herself, seeing her son walk with a little more pep in his step at the idea that the four older guys wanted to maybe spend time with him.

As they walked into Lucille’s house, they smelled more than just leftover empanadas. Megan rolled her eyes. She should have known better. Rather than just “a few of leftover empanadas” Lucille had made a whole spread.

“Wow, it smells amazing in here, Lulu!”

Lucille came from around the corner, wiping her hands on her apron with a big grin on her face.

“I just whipped up a few things, it’s simmering, and should be done soon. Ven mijito,” she motioned to Connor to sit down as she grabbed a plate. “I made empanadas de picadillo, you’re favorite.”

“Yes!” Connor eagerly sat at the table, as Lucille put the plate in front of him.

“Megan dear, would you mind coming upstairs with me? I’m sorting through some old jewelry and I was wondering if you wanted anything.”

“Uh, sure...” she knew Lucille was up to something because Megan hardly wore jewelry.

The two ladies made their way up the stairs and into Lucille’s bedroom, straight towards the two large windows that formed the corner of her room.

“Do you keep your jewelry in the window frames?” Megan snorted. She really had no idea what Lucille was up to.

“No tonta, something better is over here,” she motioned out of the window.

Walking over to the windows, Megan saw a perfectly unobstructed view into the next-door neighbor’s backyard where four men were relaxing and enjoying a chill pool day. She quickly scanned to see what they all were up to.

Frankie was by the grill, beer in hand. He opened the grill to flip some of the burgers and skewers, taking his signature hat off to wipe the sweat from his forehead. It didn’t look like he had gotten in the pool yet. He was wearing a plain white T-shirt with blue and green striped swim trunks and some flip flops. He was bobbing his head to the music playing from the bluetooth speakers perched on the porch.

Santiago was laying on a pool float in black swim trunks, a little shorter in length than Frankie’s. He had his sunglasses on so it was hard to tell if he was taking a nap or not, but he had one arm folded behind his head and the other one resting on his stomach.

The Miller brothers were throwing a football around in the yard. Will, dressed in just red swim trunks, stayed by the back porch near Frankie as his brother, donned in hot pink swim trunks and a black backward baseball cap, ran different routes across the backyard. After urging his brother to throw a harder pass, Benny bobbled it, resulting in the ball landing in the pool, splashing Santiago – who clearly had been taking a nap.

Lucille’s windows were closed, so they couldn’t hear what the boys were saying but it was clearly some good-natured ribbing. Santiago swam to the edge of the pool, pulling himself out of the water and then promptly chasing after Benny, tackling him in the lawn as they laughed. Eventually the two got up and headed back toward the porch, but as they passed the pool Santiago pushed Benny in – his final revenge for having his nap interrupted.

“How long have you been holding out on me Lulu?” Megan smirked, knocking her shoulder into the older woman.

“It’s a pretty nice show isn’t it.” she giggled. "Wait, what are you doing?"

"Taking a picture for Katie. I think she may have a crush on Will and what kind of friend would I be if I didn't report a discovery like this?" Megan smirked.

Katie was the newest member of the neighborhood until the Millers moved in. After her divorce, she packed her life up and decided to move to Florida on her own. She wanted to escape the cold and, more importantly, anything that would remind her of her ex. Since she worked from home, it seemed like an easy decision.

She originally had her sights set on 319 Mulefall Court and its expensive backyard. She didn't mind projects, but that house was a little too far gone for her so she decided on the other fixer-upper on the block, 323 Mulefall Court.

Megan liked Katie and quickly brought her into the fold, including the coveted neighborhood group chat. Though Megan didn’t date too often, she found herself going out occassionally with Katie, acting as her wingwoman. Megan also tried setting Katie up with her coworkers and friends of friends, but nobody ever seemed to catch Katie’s eye.

But, when Megan met Will she just knew she had to introduce him to Katie. They were both good looking, so she had no doubts there would be a physical attraction. For the little she knew of Will, he seemed to be considerate and respectful and although he was more reserved than his boisterous little brother, he had a quirky, dry sense of humor. Katie was also a bit on the quiet side, but she was a lot of fun once she felt comfortable.

Megan: *sends photo*

"This is going to be good … let's see what they say," she smirked, showing Lucille her phone.

"Ay díos mio. You all are too much!"

"I see David typing, I knew he would be the first one!"

David: Where are you, why didn’t you invite me, and can I come?

Tyson: 👀 ok, but seriously….

Olivia: Megan!! A warning next time, holy shit the kids had my phone!

Melissa: oh my…

Megan: 🤭 I just had to. This is Lucille's view.

Tyson: Damn, Ms. Lucille! I see you with a front row to the eye candy! 👏🏼

David: Is it just him out there or are the others there too? I'm trying to see the one that always wears the hat off. 🥵

Melissa: Which one, D? There are two who always have hats on.

David: The one with the dark hair.

Tyson: Jesus Christ, David. How many times do I have to tell you his name is Frankie?!

David: Yessssss 😍

Megan: *sends photo*

Megan: Just for you D! 😘

David: PAPI!! 😍

David: You're a real one Megan!

Megan: Katie?! Are you there? You've been quiet …

Katie: I don't even know what to say … 😂

Melissa: Oooo Katie, do you think Will is hot?!

Olivia: Oh, Katie! Please say yes. If I wasn't married I'd climb that man like a tree!

Katie: You guys!! Ms. Lucille is on this group chat!

Lucille: Mi amor, I have eyes.

David: Hell yes you do queen!!

David: So when can we come over?!

Katie: We shouldn't spy on them…c'mon…

David: Boooo

Megan: Well, I have thoughts. They’re coming over to fix Lucille’s fence this week. It wouldn’t be spying if we are already over here for a…happy hour? Also thinking we invite them to a pool party of our own. 😉

Melissa: I love that idea!! We are happy to host the party, we just finished the pool this week!

Olivia: Oh that would be awesome, anything to tire out the kids so they actually sleep.

Tyson: Yess! What a great way to get to know our neighbors … right? I mean, we want to make sure they feel verrry welcome here. 😜

Megan: It’s a plan!

Megan: *changes the name of the group chat to “Neighborhood Watch”

David: LOL! Wtf is Neighborhood Watch?

Megan: It’s for Olivia - that way when she sees this chat she knows there may be something not kid friendly on it lol

Olivia: 🤦🏾‍♀️ You all are too damn much!!

Megan: Ok, it’s settled. I’ll let you know when the guys are going to come over to fix the fence. When you're all here we can plan the party. Now, got to go! Lucille and I are going to get back to our view!

David: Ughhh of all days for us to go to the beach. Thanks a lot Ty!

Tyson: Love you too babe!

“This is going to be fun,” Megan said triumphantly over to Lucille who was just shaking her head as she was reading through the texts.

Next Chapter

A/N: We’ll learn more about the other members of the group chat throughout the next couple of chapters.

Let me know if you want to be on the tag list moving forward!! Apologies if I accidentally left you off. I added everyone below manually and may have missed someone … just let me know!

@goodwithcheese / @gemmahale / @trulybetty / @patti7dc / @periodtsparadox / @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin / @maggiemayhemnj / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @avastrasposts / @meveispunk / @chaoticfestninja / @beholdbebravethings / @casa-boiardi / @katw474 / @linzels-blog / @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain / @primosworld / @lynnchun / @anoverwhelmingdin /@lilmizmoz / @pedrit0-pascalit0 / @titlee78 / @noisynightmarepoetry / @legendary-pink-dot

#delta landscaping #the neighborhood watch #triple frontier au #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic

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dreamcatcher92 · 16 days

Text

Chapter II: New Life Choices

Summary: Reader falls head over heels in love with her neighbor after a bad break-up. Will he also turn out to be her knight in shining armor as well?

Warnings: smut, language, sex, alcohol use. 18+ only!

The next morning after receiving the Facebook notification, you decided you were going to take a break from social media. You went through your phone and deleted every social media app that you had. You wanted a fresh start and wanted to get back into the dating scene, although you were extremely nervous about it.

You are not an outgoing person, so you were definitely going to have to challenge yourself. You wanted to try flirting with the hot neighbor. This was going to take a lot of planning because you are not the smoothest person in the world.

You thought that it would be easiest to try and talk to him when he comes back into the coffee shop. So, you grabbed your bag and purse and headed out the door. When you walked in Johanna was leaning against the counter scrolling on her phone.

“Hey you!” Johanna excitedly said as she put her phone down onto the counter and ran over to give you a hug.

“Hi! How are you today?” You replied as you hugged Johanna.

“I’m okay! You want your usual?”

“Yeah, sounds great! Hey, has that guy come back in at all?”

“Nope! Not yet at least.” Johanna said with a wink and huge grin on her face as she walked away to make your drink. “Why’s that girly?”

“Uh…no reason really. Just curious.” You sheepishly said then headed to your table that you love to sit at.

You took out your computer and began to work on things for your marketing job. A few minutes pass, and Johanna brings over your scone and iced drink. Johanna headed back to the kitchen to bake more pastries and you were trying to concentrate on work, but all you could think about was when he would show up. You let out a deep sigh and kept typing.

About two hours had passed, and still no sign of him. Every time someone would walk in, your heart would skip a beat. Then you were immediately let down when you saw that it wasn’t him. Finally after waiting about forty-five minutes, you decided to call it a day and finish things at home.

For the next few days, you did the same routine, but still nothing. Each night you watched when he would come home and pour himself a drink at his minibar. You’d watch him loosen his tie and undo his cufflinks. After turning all your lights off and drawing your curtains, you would peek through to see if he was looking into your windows like you were into his, but he wasn’t. Not at least when you would check.

Then one evening, you decided to enjoy a glass of wine on your tiny porch. You were listening to music and just enjoying the breeze of the evening air. Something caught your attention and you quickly looked over. There in the doorway was the man. He stood leaning against the doorframe and holding a glass of whiskey.

Shit! Do something! Say something you idiot! You took a drink of wine and smiled towards him. He smiled back and your heart fluttered.

“Nice weather we’re having right?” You yelled over to him, but immediately felt dumb for saying what you did.

You cleared your throat as you felt a pit in your stomach. You wanted to curl up under the chair. Seriously?! The weather? The fucking weather!? What the hell were you thinking? Talking about the weather is one of the lamest ways to start a conversation.

“Yeah! It’s pretty nice out tonight.” he replied with a grin.

Holy shit! He’s seriously talking to me!

“I’m Y/N, I moved in not too long ago.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Billy.”

You could not believe that this was actually happening. Now you know the name of the man that you have been lusting over for about a week now. You were trying to think of something else to say, but nothing was coming out of your mouth.

“I should probably head inside, it’s getting late.” you finally said.

“Okay! Have a great night!” Billy said finding your nervousness comical.

You turned to go inside, but stopped and turned back around, “um, hey, so I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

Billy smiled and replied, “What’s up?”

“Would you…would you like to have coffee with me sometime? If not, it's totally cool! I just - I just wanted to ask and…” you were stumbling over your words, but he interrupted you.

“Sure! Tomorrow morning sound good to you?”

“Oh uh, yeah! Sounds great!”

“Alrighty, then I’ll see you in the morning at the cafe.”

“See you then!”

You went inside and let out a squeal. You were so excited and could not believe that this just happened. Tomorrow?! Panic started taking over and you began running the what if questions through your head. What if he doesn’t show? What if I say something stupid and he never wants to talk to me again? What if he comes and it’s so awkward that he just gets up and walks out? What if…

“STOP!” You yelled to yourself while grabbing your head.

You took a deep breath in and took your wine glass to the kitchen sink. As you rinsed the cup, you got lost in a daydream of how it would be if you and Billy were dating. You smiled and tilted your head as you let out a long sigh.

However, you quickly came back to reality when you dropped the glass into the sink causing it to shatter into pieces. You weren't paying attention to what you were doing, and it slipped right out of your hands. As you were picking the shards of glass out of the sink, a piece sliced your palm open. Blood instantly began to gush from the wound.

“Ow! Fuck!” You yelled as you grasped your hand with the other.

You turned the water back on and ran cold water over the cut. Finally the bleeding slowed enough for you to run into the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit. You quickly wrapped your hand tightly with gauze. After securing your now mummified looking hand, you walked into your room and fell backwards onto your bed while letting out a loud sigh of frustration.

How were you going to explain this if he asks? Of course he is going to ask, why wouldn’t he? You kept running all sorts of things through your mind until eventually, you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, your internal alarm clock woke you up around 7:00 a.m. Normally this annoyed you to no end, but this morning you were grateful because you had fallen asleep without setting any sort of alarm. You knew Billy didn’t mention a specific time, but you wanted to be sure to get to the cafe soon just in case he gets there early and thinks that you stood him up.

You took a quick shower, styled your long brown hair into big loose curls, and walked over to your closet. Oh God. What the hell do I wear? You grabbed a few things out and laid them onto the bed. Eventually you settled with black leggings, a white top with big sunflowers covering it, and a pair of black flats. You didn’t want to overdo it. After all, it was just coffee. Right?

You sat in the booth that you normally do and was bouncing your feet on the ground in anticipation for Billy to arrive. You had gotten to the coffee shop around 8:15 that morning. Just to be sure you didn’t miss him, you checked with Johanna to see if he had been in already. Johanna told you that he hadn’t come in yet and wished you luck this morning while squealing and giving you a tight hug.

About thirty minutes goes by, and you start to feel like you've been stood up. Your eyes begin to fill with tears from disappointment, but then, someone walks in. You look up quickly and see that it’s Billy. You hurry to dry your eyes and sit up straight to look at Billy with a big smile.

As he is walking over, he smiles back at you. Billy was a very confident man and always loved to impress the ladies. He could tell that you were nervous, but that made this all the more exciting for him.

Billy walked up, grabbed your right hand, and gave the top of your hand a gentle kiss, “I’m sorry I’m a bit late. I had something at work that needed to be dealt with before I came.”

Butterflies filled your stomach as you held onto his hand, “That’s okay. To be fair, we didn’t really set a time.”

Billy agreed and giggled as he looked down at your hands still joined. You realized you were still holding his hand and let out a gasp as you quickly let go. You immediately felt your face feel like it was on fire from embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry. I’m…” you stammer.

“Nervous?” Billy said with a grin on his face.

“Is it that obvious?”

“A bit, but it’s cute.”

Suddenly your face was on fire again and you couldn’t believe that he just called you cute. You giggle and the two of you begin to have an actual conversation. During the conversation, Johanna brought you both your drinks and tried her best to eavesdrop on what was being said. She was so happy for you.

“I hate to do this, but I have a meeting in half an hour.” Billy said while slowly running his thumb over the top of your hand as he held it.

You gaze into his dark eyes, “It’s okay, I understand. You do run the business after all.”

Billy smiles and bites his lower lip, “How about dinner tonight?”

You were in shock, but quickly answered, “Absolutely!”

He chuckled at how excited you were, “I’ll come by and get you around seven?”

“Sounds great.” you agreed.

The two of you exchanged numbers and before Billy left. He leaned down and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek.

“See you at seven sweetheart.” he whispered into your ear.

You couldn’t move. You watched him leave and could hear Johanna talking to you with pure excitement, but you couldn’t hear anything that she was saying. You were in awe and could not believe what just happened. This kind of thing does not happen to you, but it was, and you were beyond excited. Now, it’s time to go get ready.

#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo smut #the punisher #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes smut #billy russo fanfic #fanfic #smut #smut fanfiction #billy russo imagine #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x reader #ben barnes x reader #benbarnesedit #fanfic writing

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asa-do-your-thing · 5 months

Text

"My Sweet"

18+ MINORS DNI Robb Stark x F!OC Part of my fanfiction Dreams WC: 2.3k Warnings // Tags: blowjob, doggystyle sex, kinda fluffy, eating out / fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex

Alea eacta est, you've all voted and decided you wanted a smutty Robb scene, so here you go:

special thanks to @valeskafics and @aemonddtargaryen for your enthusiasm! <3

The courtyard of Winterfell was absent of people, except for a handful of guards near the entrance. Lucie's heart raced when she saw Robb step out from the keep, his blue eyes beaming with what seemed like secret joy. His cloak fluttered in the wind, as if it had been placed there to enhance his wavy auburn hair.

He cut an impressive figure, yet he remained remarkably amiable - he put forth all his effort to win her affections and Lucie had to acknowledge that he was indeed making progress.

Robb stepped forward and held out his hand towards Lucie. "Welcome my love," he said warmly, intertwining their fingers together when she accepted his offer. "Today we will celebrate your name day some place away from anyone who might disturb us."

"Is that so?" Lucie said with a small grin. "Where are you planning on taking me? Bear Island?"

Rolling his eyes, he guided her towards the godswood, the snow hitting her ruddy face like angry shards of ice. The weather really had taken a turn for the worse in the last few weeks.

"Not Bear Island, my Lady," he said with mock seriousness. "But I have something special planned for us."

Lucie felt her heart swell with excitement as Robb took her hand and led her through the godswood. They walked through the trees and underbrush, past the heart tree, surrounded by tall trunks of fir, pine, and birch. The snow still clung to the branches like frosting on a cake - a stunningly beautiful sight despite the chill in the air. As they walked further into the wood, Lucie noted a few streams of light peeking through the branches in front of them, casting shadows over their faces and onto the floor below.

Robb paused in front of a clearing where there stood an old wooden structure hidden away from view. He smiled at Lucie before looking up towards the window of what she could now see was an old greenhouse. "This is where we shall celebrate your name day," he said grandly as he opened up a small door towards one side.

Lucie stepped inside cautiously, blinking the moist heat away after it had hit her, surveying her surroundings: plants grew everywhere and exquisite blooms filled every corner of this warm paradise; beautiful colours that somehow seemed to be glowing even brighter against all the greenery surrounding them. But this wasn't just the usual glass garden; Lucie could tell that it had been specially prepared for her - there were ribbons woven into vines, candles lit along the pathways and a table set for two, laden with sweet treats and wine that looked like it had been carefully selected for the occasion.

Robb gestured to the table and pulled out a chair for her after taking off his coat and his gloves. "Please, my Lady, take a seat," he said with a smile as he sat across from her. "I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of arranging all of this."

Lucie laughed softly and shook her head, following suit. "No, not at all," she said, taking in the sight of the feast before her. "It's beautiful. And I'm so grateful for all of this. You've truly outdone yourself."

Robb smiled at the praise, but his eyes never left her face. Lucie couldn't help but feel a shiver run through her when she saw the intensity of his gaze. She knew that look well - it was the same look he had given her the last time they had been alone together. Gods, would that happen every time they were to be alone now?

The awkward silence that had fallen over them only added to her anticipation, as Robb poured them each a glass of wine. "I have a question for you," he said, his voice low, his fingers playing around.

Lucie felt her stomach drop as she waited for what he might say next. "What is it?"

Robb leaned forward, his eyes alive with mischief. "Have you ever made love on a table, Lucie?" he asked.

Lucie sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes widening with surprise. She knew that Robb had a lusty streak to him - it was something that he had shown her before - but she hadn't expected him to be so... brazen. She tried to ignore the heat that flooded her face at the thought of what he was suggesting.

"I...I can't say that I have," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "You've been my first and then we were in the... bath."

Robb's face was still so close to hers, and she could feel the heat emanating from him. "Well then," he said, as he rose from his chair and walked around to her side of the table. "Let's fix that, shall we?"

Lucie could hardly breathe as Robb grabbed her hand and savagely pulled her towards him. In a whirlwind of passion, she felt herself being pulled closer to him. His hands fumbled with the plates and goblets on the table, shoving them aside until they eventually tumbled down to the ground.

"Robb!" Lucie gasped in shock, trying to break free from his grip even as her body ached for more. Suddenly Robb swept her up and placed her onto the table, yanking up her skirts and planting hot, hungry kisses onto her trembling thighs. The warmth of his lips sent shivers through every inch of her skin, even more so as he gently opened up her folds, placing the gentlest of kisses on her pearl.

"You're mine, my pretty girl...," he mumbled, the low rumble of his voice and the touch of his strong fingers on her little, sensitive bud made her gasp and moan with pleasure.

"Oh Robb!" she felt herself whisper, tangling her fingers in his hair and closing her eyes as he pleasured her. Suddenly, she felt herself losing control, her hands started to shake, her legs quiver. She bit her lip, hard, to muffle the cry as she felt herself unraveling. Last time, everything was so much slower, so much... different, it had taken her ages but now...

"Someone's excited," Robb whispered as he stood up again, giving her a slow kiss. "I want you to come around my cock. So, sweetling... you'll have to learn to be patient." With that, he moved back down again, gently tracing his finger over her cunny, grinning as she mewled, moaned, begged for him to glide it into her.

"You make me so happy," he murmured between kisses, his eyes still full of desire and want. His fingers moved inside her, curling and rotating until Lucie's breath was ragged with desire, unforgiving in their pace.

The intensity of the pleasure was almost unbearable, yet Robb kept her dangling on the edge, providing her with pleasure, but never enough to push her over. And soon, she found herself on the brink of pleasure and pain, her body writhing in ecstasy, yet denying itself the ultimate release.

Robb finally pulled away, leaving her shaking and sobbing with an ache that couldn't be filled, the sensation of being at the edge of pleasure and pain an unbearable agony. Lucie had never experienced anything like it before, and yet it was as if Robb had known exactly how to push her to her limits, how to control her pleasure and when to pull away.

Still trembling from the overwhelming pleasure, Lucie looked up into Robb's eyes and was met with awe and admiration. He was gazing at her as if she were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Slowly, he helped her sit up and cupped her face in his hands, giving her a sly smirk before kissing her sweetly.

"Luce, you can't expect me to do everything," he murmured against her lips. "Let me see what you're capable of." With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he guided her down onto the floor on her knees. "It's time for you to take charge."

Lucie's heart skipped a beat at his words, feeling a surge of excitement and nervousness wash over her. She had never been in control before, always being submissive to Robb's desires. But now, with him giving her permission to take charge, she couldn't resist the opportunity.

"Okay," she breathed out shakily as she positioned herself before him, nervously unlacing his breeches and pulling them down, helping his take them off completely. Her heart raced as she saw his hard member in front of her face and his hungry look as she looked up. She bit her lip nervously and gently guided it to her mouth.

"That's it," Robb encouraged her, reaching down to softly caress her hair. "Use your tongue."

Lucie followed his advice and began using her tongue on the tip of his cock. She felt it twitch against her tongue, and the knowledge that she was making him feel this way caused her own body to heat up immensely.

Robb groaned and gently, yet firmly held onto her braids. "Fuck, you're doing this so well, I..."

Trying to suppress a smile, Lucie gently slid him into her mouth, trying her hardest to breath and to take him in fully. Even though she'd have loved for him to have taken him right there on the table, this also had a certain... allure.

Her small hand gripped his hip, and she slowly began to bob her head up and down, listening to the noises he made. After a couple of minutes, she felt his him stiffening and he held her head down, gently thrusting his hips while she took him in fully. She couldn't believe it herself, but she quickly pulled back from him, wiping away the small strand of spit that was on her chin.

Robb opened his eyes in suprise and grinned, motioning to the table. "Fuck, Lucie, you little minx... Get up on the table. All fours."

Lucie followed his instructions, crawling up onto the table and spreading her arms and legs so she was leaning over the edge, her small round ass sticking up in the air. She gasped as she felt him spread her ass cheeks and grab them tightly, so tightly that she was sure he'd leave marks on them.

"Ahn, Robb... I... Please..."

"Such a good girl, aren't you? So wet for me, my sweetling, so desperate for my cock," he whispered huskily into her ear before nipping at it playfully.

Lucie took a deep breath and reached back to grasp Robb's throbbing erection in one hand while using the other to guide it towards her wet opening. She could feel its heat against the sensitive skin between her legs and couldn't resist rubbing herself against it teasingly.

Robb groaned loudly at the sensation, his fingers tightening around Lucie's hips, urging her to continue. She did, positioning herself hesitantly and letting him push in his big, throbbing member, making her squirm and moan.

Gently, he pulled out and thrust himself back in, rocking back and forth, pulling out slowly and then pushing back in as she let out a loud cry of pleasure, his cock filling her up in a way she had never experienced before. Taking a deep breath, she rocked back onto him, allowing him to push even deeper inside her, the sensation sending waves of pleasure throughout her body.

"My, my, Lucie," Robb groaned softly, his hands on her hips moving in a circular motion, his thrusts becoming more and more powerful. "You are such a good girl for me..."

Lucie could feel her pleasure rising again as she let out small moans of delight and pleasure, even more so as Robb started to finger her clit. The pressure inside her was almost unbearable at that point, and as Robb continued to pleasure her, she was overwhelmed with the feeling of ecstasy, shuddering hard as she felt herself tightening around his cock.

"Ah! That's it, fuck... there you go my sweet," Robb's grip on her hips became tighter and he thrust himself deeper into her, a low moan escaping his lips as he felt her tighten even more around him.

"I'm... I... Robb..." Lucie whispered, her voice sounding hoarse as she worked towards her release.

"That's it, my sweetling, come for me, let go..."

With these words pushing her over the edge, Lucie let out a loud cry of pleasure as she fell apart on the table underneath him, her orgasm shaking her small body. Her fingers clenched around the tablecloth with such force, her knuckles tuned white.

Robb groaned loudly as he followed after her, groaning out her name and emptying himself inside her as he found his own pleasure in her tight embrace.

As he pulled out of her, Lucie gasped in surprise, feeling slightly weak from her orgasm. Robb caught her as her legs gave out beneath her, holding her close to him before laying her gently onto the table.

Smiling, he reached over to grab a cloth and wiped her down gently before taking his time brushing away the sweat from her neck and back. He then turned his attention to her hair, untangling the knots in her braids and fixing them carefully until they were once again styled in their original formation.

"No one's ever going to notice anything," he whispered into her ear.

Lucie, slowly getting back to her senses grinned and pulled down her dress once again and glances over the smashed cakes and puddles of wine on the floor. "No, how could they. Let's just say Grey Wind caused this," she said with a giggle.

"You're right. We'll say he got jealous of the attention you were getting."

They laughed as Robb helped her off the table. "Direwolves are known for they love of sweet treats."

#asas fics #robb stark smut #robb stark x oc #robb stark fanfic #got #game of thrones smut #game of thrones #asoiaf fanfiction #ask game #asoiaf #asoiaf smut #robb stark

60 notes · View notes

ladelinee · 19 days

Text

Authors note: Hi! I’m back! I fought against writer’s block. I took my time, and I bring you a longer piece! Thank you for your patience! 🤩 (again, sorry for any grammar mistakes)

Word count: 4,4K

Warnings: SMUT! +18 language, fluff.

All shook up

Part 5

Once I had removed with a damp towel the mascara marks that were left on my lower eyelid due to extreme closing of my eyes and sweat, I stared at the sink with a lost gaze.

What had just happened was simply inexplicable. The skin-to-skin sensation, his kisses, everything he did to me... I would never have imagined being half-naked in his bathroom.

But suddenly the shadows returned to my head, the fact of risking my job with this that could be temporary distressed me too much.

Without realizing it, a small ray of light emerged from the shadows and illuminated my ideas again. Elvis was running his kisses down my back.

“Take the day off, and stay right here here all day and night” he said with a tender smile.

My gaze wandered from the sink to the mirror, where I saw him rest his chin on my shoulder as he looked at me like a little child, never wanting the fun to end.

“You know I can't, they could see me,” I replied, looking into his eyes from the mirror and heading back to the room.

“Well, why don't we just sneak away? I could take ya to Graceland one of these days, and we wouldn't have a care in the world.” Elvis said as he watched me put my uniform shirt back on.

"Mmm sounds interesting," I said as I turned to look at him with a mischievous smile.

"Well, I have to go to the office to sort out some papers before they wonder where I have been."

"Ohhh... can't those papers wait?" he said, playing while he removed the hair that rested on my cheeks.

"Well... but only for a little while," I smiled as he blushed at me, still finishing buttoning my shirt.

"So just for a lil’ while, huh?" Elvis answered as his thumb caressed my lower lip, and then leaned in and kissed me.

We started hearing background noise and suddenly Joe and Red appeared in the room.

We had a shock, Elvis fixed them with a murderous look while I tried to cover my shirt which was still open.

Red was a little more shocked than Joe to see the scene.

“Elvis, for fucks sake!” Joe said panting.

Red, however, looked at me, and then at Elvis with a frown without saying a word.

"Goddammit! Don't ya guys know how to knock??" Elvis answered, surprised and angry, more from the scare than from them having entered.

Joe and Red shrugged as if it were a regular occurrence.

"I-I'm sorry boss, we thought you weren't here," Red said, seeming like he was the one who had been caught by surprise.

"We saw the housekeeping ladies cleaning the suite and we assumed you weren't here. Where were you? Man, you're going to give me a heart attack. This is the second time I've lost track of you," Joe said in a worried tone.

"And it seems to be for the same reason..." Red muttered, smirking as he looked at me. He was starting to understand what was happening.

"I, uh... well, we've been playing hide and seek, guys," Elvis said in a relaxed tone among colleagues. It was clear that he was starting to joke to lighten the issue.

As Joe and Red looked at me, I waved at them.

"Hide and seek? Hahaha, seriously, man?" Joe said between laughs. It seemed like it wasn't the first time that Elvis made up an excuse to hide the fact that he had had sex.

"I’m real serious!" Elvis said as he laughed.

"And was she good at playing hide-and-seek? Has she been able to find your hidden treasure?" Joe asked. Red closed his eyes tightly, focusing on not laughing, and covered his mouth to suppress his laughter. Unable to contain himself, he started laughing. Red knew that depending on the day, Elvis could either take jokes very well or react badly.

I gave a light smirk as I watched them enjoying themselves and joking with each other, but at the same time, I felt uncomfortable. Elvis noticed my expression.

"Honey, don't ya worry. Them fellas are my loyal crew. They ain’t spillin’ a single word." Elvis said as he put his arm around my shoulders.

"Otherwise, he will fire us like dogs," Red added.

"You betcha," Elvis responded, laughing at Red's words as he wrapped his arm around my waist.

“By the way, E, Sinatra hasn’t confirmed for tomorrow night’s party yet,” Joe said, changing the subject. At that moment, my face turned pale.

“The party! Oh my god, I need to leave now,” I exclaimed, putting into words what was screaming in my head. Elvis was surprised by my sudden change. “Baby, you okay?” he asked, watching me as I rushed to grab my shoes.

“Yeah… uh, sorry, we had a staff meeting to organize the party and I completely forgot about it! I’m late for that meeting,” I confessed, breathing heavily from the haste of my movements. Joe and Red continued conversing, but my nerves were so heightened that I couldn’t focus on their words.

Once I reach the door to leave, Elvis interrupts my exit by standing between me and the door.

"Hold on now, you reckon you can just up and leave like that?" He said with a serious tone.

"Elvis, I..." I responded.

“Like that, without kissin’ me? This country ain’t tax-free, miss,” Elvis teased, curling his lip into a smile as he enveloped me in his arms. I sighed in relief, smiling, and kissed his juicy lips, feeling myself blush again.

Joe and Red looked at each other with a knowing look.

"Take care, lil’one. See ya later," Elvis whispered after our kiss.

————————

As I entered the meeting room in haste, the atmosphere immediately shifted. All eyes turned towards me, and I felt the weight of their gaze as if it were physically pressing down on me. The chairs in the room were arranged in a circle, which heightened the sense of scrutiny.

I noticed disapproving expressions, including frowns and raised eyebrows, as people observed my slightly more untidy appearance than usual.

Seated in the middle of the circle I found Angelica. Her lips curled into a smug smile as she watched me, clearly enjoying my lateness and untidiness.

"Miss Y/ln, you're late!" Mark, my boss, exclaimed. He was standing, explaining the planning.

"Sorry, there was a lot of work," I replied, scanning the room for a free chair. At the end of the room, I could spot Alex waving his arm, indicating the free space he had reserved for me.

The tension in the room was palpable, almost suffocating, as I made my way to my seat. Whispers and murmurs followed me, cutting through the silence like knives.

"Girl, what happened? You got me a bit worried " Alex whispered as I settled into the seat next to him. I could still feel the walls of my vagina sore as I adjusted.

"I'm sorry, I forgot about the meeting," I replied, still trying to catch my breath.

"Well, Mr. Presley's party is going to be a VIP event. That means we need our best employees. Nothing can go wrong, so all the section leaders are going to be serving at that party. Angelica, you will be in charge of receiving the guests. Y/n will be in charge of refilling and offering champagne. Who wants to be in charge of the catering?" Mark explained in the background.

"So, tell me! What's wrong with those raccoon eyes? Has he made you cry? No, that can't be it... you came here too happy, forgot about the meeting, and appeared messier than usual..."

I couldn't help but laugh at his blunt conclusion.

"You've probably already guessed it," I answered with a wink.

Alex's eyes widened in mock surprise and said “Oh my god! Tell me the juicy details later. Right now, let’s concentrate on not getting skewered by Angelica’s murderous gaze.”

I checked out Angelica, sitting across the circle, looking way too pleased with herself.

"Ugh, speaking of the devil. It's like she's enjoying my misery as if it's her own personal victory" I grumbled.

"Don't stress, I got your back. Get ready for the passive-aggressive comments and eye rolls," Alex chimed in, ready to be my office drama bodyguard.

I couldn't help but chuckle at his determination to keep me safe from workplace shenanigans.

As I grabbed my stuff at the end of the meeting, getting ready to make a quick exit, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Angelica's smug face, holding my jacket.

"Looks like you left something, darling," she said, her tone dripping with condescension.

"Oh, thanks, Angelica. Must've left it in Mr. Presley's suite," I replied, trying to keep it cool, but her intense stare made it tough to keep my cool. Taking the jacket from her hand, I couldn't help but feel ticked off at her gloating.

"You know, not every day someone leaves their stuff in Mr. Presley’s suite. Quite an achievement, huh?" she remarked, her words dripping with sarcasm. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at her thinly veiled digs.

"Yeah, well, I guess I'm just lucky to be hired to specifically serve him " I replied with a forced smile, hoping to end the conversation asap. But Angelica seemed determined to drag out my discomfort.

"Well, don't let it get to your head. We wouldn't want Mr. Presley thinking you're more than just an employee," she quipped as she sauntered away, her laughter echoing in my ears, leaving me simmering with frustration. I couldn't wait to put this encounter behind me and finally leave the room.

————-

The party exuded elegance, with music filling the air. I hustled to refill champagne glasses as guests streamed in, eager to enjoy the night.

Despite the crowd, I still hadn't spotted Elvis among the guests. Suddenly, familiar faces caught my eye. Turning my head, I saw Colonel Parker, his imposing presence accentuated by his trademark hat. His gaze met mine briefly as he took a puff of his cigar.

Amidst the attendees, I recognized some of Elvis's MM, chatting animatedly in a corner. The atmosphere buzzed with energy and excitement, and I struggled to keep my cool.

Suddenly, the crowd parted, applause rippled through the guests, and there he was, Elvis, encircled by friends attempting to greet him. He moved gracefully through the crowd, flashing a charming smile and relishing the attention.

"That's the guy who wrecked my friend’s private parts. Y/n, keep sticking to your high standards, you'll end up in a wheelchair," Alex remarked, catching me off guard. He stood beside me, gathering empty glasses to wash, a task I hadn't

even noticed him doing amidst my nerves.

“You’re quite the loudmouth!” I chuckled, then found myself falling under Elvis’s spell once again from across the room. The way he talked, the way he moved—his charisma just made me like him even more.

I’ve never seen Elvis Presley look as sharp as he does tonight. He had this magnetic presence, and his outfit was effortlessly stylish. Rocking a fitted black jacket that showed off his shape, paired with a crisp white shirt that made his tan pop, Elvis exuded an aura of sophistication.

The black pants he wore fit perfectly, but what truly caught my eye was his belt and golden necklace, adorned with inlaid precious stones that sparkled with every movement.

His dark gold glasses added a hint of mystery to his piercing gaze, sending shivers down my spine.

After a while, I noticed Elvis's eyes land on me. A flutter stirred in my stomach as I locked eyes with him, and for a moment, it felt as though time stood still as we gazed at each other amidst the lively atmosphere of the party.

Joe Esposito was the first to come over, his big frame easily seen among the crowd. With a knowing grin, he walked up and grabbed a glass of champagne, giving me a wink.

Then Red, Sonny, and Jerry followed suit, each getting a drink and joking around, their tall bodies blocking my view. The bunch of familiar faces left me feeling a bit lost, unsure who would come next. Their laughter and friendly chatter filled the room.

But then, the next one to arrive was unmistakable: Elvis. I was shocked to see him making his way through the crowd toward me, his piercing stare beneath his glasses locked onto mine. Despite the crowd around us, it felt like it was just him and me in that moment. My heart started racing as I wondered what he would say and how I would respond.

"How's your evenin' been, darlin'? Ain't seen hide nor hair of ya since yesterday." he inquired with a warm smile, though his voice held a hint of intimacy that only I could pick up on.

"Pretty good, thank you, Mr. Presley. Been tied up with party prep with the crew," I answered politely, brushing off the subtle spark I felt passing between us.

"Hey, why ain’t ya drinking?" Elvis questioned, sounding like one of my best friends.

"Mr. Presley, I'm not supposed to drink while on duty," I answered with a gentle smile.

"I'll take care of it!... MARK!" Elvis called out to my boss, who happened to be in the room. It was clear that the head of International had to attend VIP events like this.

My eyes widened in surprise, and I quickly shushed Elvis, feeling embarrassed by his public call to my boss. However, he ignored my gesture and continued calling out to Mark.

With a gesture, Elvis passed me a glass of champagne, casting a glance at my boss that seemed to ask, "Is it alright?" My boss sighed and nodded with a forced smile. He understood the golden rule: the customer, especially Elvis, must always be satisfied.

Turning back to me with a broad grin, Elvis declared, "All sorted! Cheers, darlin’!" as he handed me the champagne flute.

Elvis moved in closer, grabbed another glass of champagne, subtly raised it in a toast to me, and took a sip. Leaning in slightly, he whispered in my ear with a suggestive tone, "If we weren't in public, I'd fuck ya in front of a mirror so you could see how stunning you are, especially when ya open your legs f’me."

My heart skipped a beat at his suggestion, causing me to hold the champagne in my mouth momentarily before swallowing it slowly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Presley, but we have to maintain professionalism here," I responded, though my voice trembled slightly.

He nodded in understanding, but his intense gaze betrayed his true intentions. "Of course, darlin’. But it just don’t sit right with me seein’ you servin’ drinks instead of bein’ right here by my side. And I can’t help but notice that little smile sneakin’ ’round the corners of your mouth." he murmured, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I attempted to maintain a neutral expression as I subtly edged away, but Elvis had already ensnared my attention. Glancing around, I noticed Angelica observing us. With a sense of urgency, I sought to bring the conversation to a close before it veered into dangerous territory. "Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Presley."

He gave a nod with a charming smile, then melted into the crowd, leaving my heart racing and my mind in a whirl.

The night dragged on, feeling like an eternity. Whenever Elvis swung by for champagne, he made sure I joined in. His presence injected excitement into the party, and every chat with him added a bit of spice to the evening’s hustle and bustle. As time passed, I found myself growing less shy, enjoying the company of both the guests and Elvis more, and feeling a little more fired up with each passing moment.

When Elvis returned, his presence exuded a magnetic aura that drew all eyes to him. He gracefully took a glass, his eyes gleaming with a playful spark that brought a smile to my lips. Pausing for a moment, I locked eyes with him as he lifted his sunglasses slightly. His grin widened, showcasing his irresistible charm.

"You are the most attractive man I have ever seen. You have to stop being so fucking attractive," I stated with a confidence that caught me off guard, unconcerned about who else might overhear.

Elvis was stunned for a moment, scanning his surroundings before bursting into laughter. “Ya feelin’ alright?” he asked between laughs, his voice filled with warmth and amusement.

Feeling a bit dizzy, but reassured by his playful expression, I nodded. Before the other guests could notice anything, Elvis shifted his tone, his gaze now full of complicity.

“You’ve had enough, darling. C’mere with me, lil’ one. You need a break,” he suggested, offering me his arm with a charming smile.

Alex, returning with fresh glasses, witnessed the scene from a distance. He quickly diverted my boss’s attention to prevent him from noticing. Meanwhile, Angelica observed everything with disbelief, unable to trust her own eyes.

Elvis graciously led me to an adjacent private room, away from the hustle and bustle of the main party. Only the faint background music from the party could be heard in the room. A sturdy, round wooden table occupied the center, surrounded by luxurious velvet-upholstered chairs. In the center of the table, a poker board gleamed under the dim light of the lamps.

As he settled me into one of the chairs, Elvis looked at me with concern, snapping his fingers in front of my eyes. “Hey, I gotcha. Don’t ya worry, honey. Let me get ya some water,” he said in a soft voice, his dark eyes reflecting a mix of amusement and concern.

Feeling slightly dizzy from the alcohol, I leaned against the back of the chair and gave him a mischievous look. “I’m perfectly fine… for us to make love,” I murmured, my voice dripping with mischief.

Elvis smiled, but before he could respond, I rushed towards him, giving him a passionate kiss that left both of us breathless. However, when I attempted to escalate things further, Elvis gently stopped me, easing himself away from me.

“Darlin’, I reckon it’d be best for ya to just lay on down and take it easy before ya go doin’ anythin,” he said in a sympathetic tone. "Sugar, just hang tight in the suit . I'll come join ya later on." he added with a reassuring smile.

"If you still ain't feelin' right later on, we don't gotta go doing nothin', darlin'. Tonight, I'll be right here takin' care of ya.” he promised, his voice brimming with tenderness and genuine concern.

I nodded, feeling both disappointed and grateful, seeing the sense in what he said. But as I tried to stand up from the chair, my legs decided to go on strike, and I ended up tumbling to the floor.

Just then, the door swung open, and the Colonel swaggered in, followed by more folks from the party. “Poker to cap off the night! Elvis, you’ve got great taste,” the Colonel cheered with a grin, totally clueless about the chaos unfolding under the table.

With the Colonel's entrance, the vibe in the room took a sharp turn. More guests flooded in, bringing with them laughter and lively chatter. Elvis, despite his attempts to stay cool, couldn't hide his nerves, his restless gaze betraying his anxiety.

As the crowd grew, I figured it was best to lay low and hide under the table to avoid drawing attention. From my hiding spot I watched nervously as Elvis, with slick moves, positioned himself to cover me up and keep me out of sight.

Elvis adopted a relaxed posture, interacting with the guests as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. His smile appeared genuine, but I could detect a hint of tension in his voice as he talked with the guests. Meanwhile, I remained still under the table, holding my breath.

As the poker game progressed, the atmosphere was filled with excitement, although I found it extremely boring waiting down there. Repositioning himself in the chair, Elvis made sure that no one could see beyond his waist, spreading his legs in the process. Suddenly, his crotch was exposed in front of me. Although under other circumstances I would have held back, the alcohol encouraged me to be a little more daring that night.

I started gently massaging Elvis's legs, tracing soft lines with my fingers that slowly moved towards his crotch. When my hand made contact with that sensitive area, Elvis reacted with a slight jump, instinctively trying to close his legs. However, I decided to defy his attempt to stop and parted them again, observing as his breathing became more labored in response to my advances.

My lips approached the bulge that was starting to form under his pants, letting out my warm breath that filtered through the fabric. Meanwhile, Elvis cleared his throat, while he tried to focus his attention on whoever was shuffling the cards.

Elvis's bulge appeared to swell, pressing against the zipper with an evident urgency, as if seeking release. Curious to explore further, I confidently unbuttoned his pants, only to discover he wasn't wearing underwear. My surprise mingled with excitement as I gently released his length, feeling his response to my touch with each movement.

I firmly wrapped my fingers and palm around the length of his cock, gently sliding it up and down, observing as his skin stretched to reveal the delicate pink of his tip. Meanwhile, Elvis anxiously bit his lip and drummed his fingers on the table, awaiting the dealing of the cards.

Noticing Elvis's demeanor, Joe chimed in with a proposal brimming with goodwill.

“Hey Elvis, need a cigarette? I’ll grab one for you,” he offered, aiming to calm his nerves amid the laughter attempting to diffuse the tense poker atmosphere.

Elvis nodded silently, unable to articulate any words due to the mixture of sensations that surrounded him at that moment.

My movements became firmer, applying gentle pressure to his cock and observing his response to the stimulation. Small drops of precum emerged, which I delicately spread over the tip using my index finger. Wanting to enhance lubrication, I spitted out a small amount of saliva, which glided smoothly over his skin, allowing for more fluid movements as I explored new sensations with him.

With a trembling hand, Elvis lifted the two cards lying face down on the table. As Joe approached with the cigarette in hand, Elvis halted his advance.

"No, no, stay there. Don’t want nobody peekin’ at my cards, ya hear?” he requested firmly, making sure to keep my presence under the table a secret. He extended his hands toward Joe, motioning for him to throw the cigarette at him.

After receiving the cigar, Elvis lit it with an agile and expert movement, allowing the smoke to slide slowly between his lips while he let out a soft roar, as if this exhalation of air carried with it some of the tension and pleasure accumulated inside him. The gesture was barely perceptible, but it resonated in the atmosphere charged with anticipation, like an echo of the internal battle raging in his mind as he prepared to face what would come next.

And the expected first contact arrived. Gently, my tongue traced an upward path from the base to the tip of his cock, exploring his smooth skin and the swollen veins that marked the contour.

As I reached the tip, my tongue started circling it, exploring every inch. The slightly salty taste mixed with the musky aroma from his skin made me even more drawn to him.

As I continued, my hands slid to his balls, adding another layer of delight. Elvis closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose beneath his sunglasses, looking fatigued to onlookers but secretly enjoying the slow and pleasurable sensation I was providing him.

I could feel the movement of his penis against my lips, giving small spasms, and his legs trembling. Elvis was silent; when he wasn't taking a drag from the cigarette, he was biting his knuckles.

I continued the sweet torture for a few minutes, while Elvis began to fidget in his seat. Seizing the opportunity during a fake coughing fit, he grabbed my hair and pushed his cock into my mouth. The corners of my lips stretched, stinging slightly at the sudden invasion of his girth.

Feeling his cock reach the back of my throat triggered a discomfort that I struggled to hide. The noise of Elvis’s strategically executed coughing provided the perfect cover to mask the sound of my mild nausea.

My chin brushed against his balls, and my nose was buried in his perfectly trimmed pubic hair as I started a slow rocking motion, gently sliding in and out. With each movement, strings of saliva trailed from my mouth, further lubricating his skin.

The realization that I was pushing Elvis to the edge with my skills filled me with pride and excitement. A warm tingle spread through my crotch, causing my nipples to harden, and I couldn’t help but rub my thighs together.

As my rocking gained a steady rhythm, I felt Elvis's gentle thrusts into my mouth, indicating his growing arousal. His hand descended again to take control of my hair, imposing an increasingly faster rhythm to our movements. I could feel his cock tighten, announcing his impending climax.

“Well, Elvis, what’s your move?” the Colonel’s voice inquired from the background, putting pressure on Elvis with his bet.

“I’m going all-in,” Elvis answered with a confident smile.

Guiding himself, he intensified the pace, pushing his cock deeper into my throat. Tears began to flow from my eyes at the reflection of feeling his penis jerking deep in my throat. I closed my eyes tightly, surrendering completely to the moment. My mouth filled with his fluids, and with an instinctive gesture, I swallowed his nectar, leaving a salty taste with a sweet aftertaste on my palate.

“Dammit," exclaimed the Colonel amid laughter and moans from those present, while he recognized Elvis's masterstroke. "He had it all figured out! My boy hit me with a royal flush!"

Elvis let out a sigh that echoed throughout the room, an exhalation filled with relief, release and satisfaction, followed by a laugh that reflected his mastery of the game and the art of maintaining an impassive expression.

He sure knows how to keep a good poker face.

Need to recap? Part 4 here

Tags: @msamarican ❤️

#elvisaaronpresley #elvis #elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis the king #elvis history #70s elvis #50s elvis #60s elvis #elvis the pelvis #elvis fanfic #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis x reader #las vegas nevada #elvis smut #smut #fanfic

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acsis-narf · 3 months

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About DecaPolice's possible 18+ age rating (TGS info translation)

*Image above is from Level-5's official website's TGS Report Day 1.

So, back in September during TGS, Akihiro Hino (Level-5's President/CEO) had a stage interview with Danganronpa & Rain Code's creator Kazutaka Kodaka.

The video has since been deleted from Level-5's official channel (since they had said they'd only archive it for 3 months).

But I've rewatched that video so many times I can almost rewind a section of their conversation back in my head 😅.

And that section is about Decapolice's age rating.

Basically, what happened was:

Hino: I like the games made by Western people, it makes me feel like we Japanese people should band up and do our best as well.

Kodaka: Speaking of Western, I know Level-5 usually make family-friendly games, but don't you want to try making a CERO-Z (18+) game like them?

Hino: Well, to be honest, it's not a proclamation or anything, but the game we're currently making, Decapolice, might actually be CERO-Z (18+).

Kodaka: Seriously?

Hino: Yes. It looks cute on the outside, but the inside's just messy (dorodoro). It's hard since, when developing it I'm always told "No, you can't. That's impossible for this country and that country." (As in impossible to sell in some countries AKA banned). When faced with that, it makes me feel like, "Well, should we not then?". But still, I want to stay true to Decapolice's original essence as much as possible.

Kodaka: Then, do you like brutal scenes too?

Hino: No, no, I don't really like brutal scenes. But, I made those scenes so they could in turn elevate other better, more beautiful, scenes.

Kodaka: I've played the demo, but it feels like a team game, full of fun and light-hearted.

Hino: Oh no, the actual thing is super dark. It's filled with things like 'revenge', 'karma', etc.

Kodaka: Is that so?

Hino: Yes, this time (TGS) we're pushing it as another one of Level-5's family-friendly game. Although, in the upcoming future we'll be revealing what the game truly is, little by little.

Kodaka: I see, I'm pretty interested now.

And that's it.

I have confidence in my memory & translation ability, and you can also find the same info from both JP & ENG twitter accounts that were watching the interview, all shocked 😂.

Also, this Famitsu news article that basically wrote down their convos (in Japanese & shortened): https://s.famitsu.com/news/202309/23318239.html

One more thing...

I just want to mention that Decapolice's use of puppet forms is because Level-5 wants to sort of 'side-step' the age rating system, by making them cute puppets and dolls.

Here's a link to that bit of info's translation by user @DartsEnthusiast on twitter (they also post the original article's link there): https://twitter.com/DartsEnthusiast/status/1636145350749704194?t=R9lBFMpto7vC6qUjPqAt8Q&s=19

...And with that, see you guys later 👍🏻

#level5 #level 5 #decapolice #tgs 2023 #translation #akihiro hino #kazutaka kodaka #interview

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wangxianficfinder · 9 months

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Fic Finder / In the mood for...

~*~

1. Hi, seeing that you are doing yizhan requests now. Can I get some recs for first similar to 心动 | Heartbeat by panda_desu. @akweenbitch

~*~

2. Hiiii ❤️❤️ I would LOVE Meet-Cute fics for Wang Yibo and Xiao Zhan! Famous, Non-famous, only one famous, Any and All! Please give me some ��️

The Boy Next Door by Ilikecola ( E, 108K, WIP, YiZhan, Neighbors, Non-Famous, WYB is 18, XZ is 25, Blond WYB, Bratty WYB, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, ZSWW - Bottom WYB/Top XZ, Virgin WYB, Explicit Sexual Content, Protective XZ Getting Together, Graphic Designer XZ, Dancer WYB, Age Difference, Light Angst, Assault, Panic Attacks)

let's not try to figure out everything at once by corianderbunnies (E, 310k, WIP, YiZhan, Doctor XZ, Idol WYB, Famous/Non-Famous, Friends to Lovers, First Time, Switch YiZhan, Kink Exploration, Kink Negotiation, Praise Kink, Hurt/Comfort) it's locked so you need a login

Making my loneliness small by becka (E, 16k, YiZhan, RPF, au, non-famos XZ, sheep, sexual tension, first time, ambiguous/open ending, pining)

Fixtures and Fittings by ella_minnow (E, 42k, YiZhan, RPF, au, Interior Designer XZ, Motorcyclist WYB, Pining, Famous/Not-Famous, Slowest Burn)

The Scent of Happiness by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 48k, YiZhan, RPF, au, soft baker XZ, famous WYB)

Victorian AU series by mrsronweasley, vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 69k, YiZhan, RPF, victorian au, yearning, boning, reunion feels, reunion sex)

Cut to the Feeling by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 32k, YiZhan, RPF, au, famous XZ, non-famous WYB, soft boys)

Pretty Dead by Verona95 (M, 252k, YiZhan, RPF, au, Strangers to Lovers, Police, Detectives, Crime Scenes, Investigations, Age Difference, Dark, Angst w Happy Ending, Fluff, Smut, Murder Mystery, Murder, Bottom WYB, Top XZ, Top WYB, Bottom XZ, Small Towns, Bratty WYB, Slow Burn)

Stripped by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 16k, YiZhan, RPF, college/university au)

you can take my heart series by ThirtySixSaveFiles (E, 68k, YiZhan, RPF, space au, Androids, Android WYB, Mechanic XZ, Alcohol, Peril, Sex Pollen, Illness, Pining, Semi-Explicit Mechanical Repairs)

a bar at the folies-bergère by belle_abroad (E, 9k, YiZhan, RPF, historical au, Famous XZ, Non-Famous WYB, Artists au, Dance au, Getting Together, Falling In Love, Angst w Happy Ending)

Xiao Zhan’s (Unplanned) Movie Date by Anonymous (Not Rated, 3k, YiZhan, accidental date, movie date, Graphic Designer XZ, Motorcyclist WYB, Dance Instructor WYB, Different First Meeting, Fluff, Unplanned Date)

Xiao Zhan’s Graphic Design Playbook by augmenti (M, 12k, YiZhan, Xiao Zhan stays an artist au)

~*~

3. Can you find recs that is similar to "Switched" by shorimochi? Where Lan Zhan went in the world of YiZhan and became like a relative to wang Yibo.... @myst1210

Once In A Lifetime by Anonymous (T, 28k, WangXian, Transmigrator LWJ, Attempt at Humor, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Crack, Crack treated half seriously, Developing Friendships, Dimension Travel, Happy Ending) does this count? I haven't read it but the summary sounds similar?

you, in every world series by Deinde (G, 53k, YiZhan, wangxian, transmigration, dimension travel, pining, getting back together, bunnies, weddings, inseurity)

The Tamed by Escheria (T, 378k, wangxian, XZ/LWJ, WYB/WWX, YiZhan, YLLZ WWX, Overpowered WWX, XZ = WWX, Canon Divergence, Transmigration, Isekai, Demonic Cultivation, Genius WWX, WIP) similar, its xiao zhan who went in mdzs so its kinda xiao zhan (in the body of wwx) x lan wangji

~*~

#yizhan fic recs #yizhan fic finder #yizhan I'm in the mood for #yizhan fic search #rpf #yizhan rpf #yizhan #wangxianficfinder #long post

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mousmoula · 1 year

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(unreasonably long) list of reasons why i need a full trilogy about the cike pre-tpw:

1) THE 3 DAYS IN THAT GODFORSAKEN VALLEY

2) and you know how the reason altan took chaghan to the aforementioned valley was that chaghan was being a bitch. yeah i would do anything to read about chaghan being a bitch

(not that he wasn't a bitch in tpw, i just need more of him being a bitch)

3) how did everyone else join the cike!!!! baji, suni, RAMSA!!!!!, enki etc.

4) all the past cike members we learn close to nothing about from the books?? tyr, feylen, huleinin??? anyone else who's not even mentioned????

5) qara and chaghan joining the cike. seriously they were like 11 years old i need context??? i need tiny little chaghan freaking everyone out

6) the training process that rin never got to go through

7) plus ramsa blowing shit up!

8) I WANT QARA AND ALTAN TO INTERACT MORE PLEASE

9) seriously their potential dynamic is everything to me. i have a fanfic where they dispose of a body together they have SO much potential

10) more of baji, suni and ramsa's friendship pls

11) i understand ramsa joining the cike (10ish y/o pyromaniac that loves exploding things and will otherwise go to prison, makes some sense) but enki??? someone explain how he ended up there???

12) at some point in tpw it is mentioned that the cike took an overseas mission once and they completely fucked it up. GIVE IT TO ME.

13) i need a cohesive fucking timeline of the cike for my fics. genuinely every fic i write goes a completely different direction because rebecca, the books and the wiki completely disagree with each other

14) seriously like. my brain is failing to understand how feylen and ramsa co-existed in the division tbh. also how did we decide that feylen was commander once when it was never mentioned??? I NEED A TIMELINE

15) chaghan and altan's relationship over time,,, pls,,,, i can't keep pulling scenes out of my ass for much longer ms rebecca i'm begging tell us what happeend

16) i need light-hearted, wholesome scenes!!!! i need qara making fun of chaghan for his obsession with altan, and baji and ramsa wrestling whenever one of them cheats in whatever game they play, i need tyr to just be done with all of them!!!!!!!!!!

17) MORE OF QARA'S DRY HUMOUR PLS she's fucking hilarious and no one ever acknowledges that

like that scene in tdr where they meet bekter and she says they're not proud of being related to him??? i was crying it was so funny

18) just the cike being as peaceful and happy as they could ever be tbh

#the poppy war #tpw #cike #poppy war spoilers #they mean everything to me did you know that #i'll keep adding to this btw i just need to go back to my homework now #(also yes i AM delusional thanks for asking)

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drivinmeinsane · 4 months

Text

Don't Go Breaking My Heart

※Chapter Two ※ Holland March x Jackson Healy ※

{ masterlist } ※ { ao3 } ※ { previous chapter }

※ Summary: Even during the most wonderful time of the year, Holland March can't help but be clumsy. A stressful hospital trip to set the detective's re-fractured arm leads an unfortunate revelation about his relationship with Jackson Healy.

Part of the Butterfly Effect collection. Can be read as a standalone.

※ Rating: 18+ for mature content.

※ Content/Tags: Fluff and Angst, Smut, Established Relationship, Period-Typical Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Injury, Canon-Typical Alchohol Consumption, reference to religion, Typical Idiot Holland March, Insecure Jackson Healy, Collaboration, first time anal sex, lotion as lube,(Seriously do not use lotion as a personal lubricant), Holly just wants her dads to get their shit together, mention of Christmas

※ Word count: 3,474

※ Status: Complete/Multichapter, Chapter 2 of 2.

※ Author's Notes: Second chapter of the collaboration I did with @danime25. It's always a pleasure to cook with someone else. <3

It’s the harsh beam of sunlight boring through his eyelids that wakes Holland up. Without opening his eyes, he rolls over in the bed and reaches out for his partner. His hand makes contact with nothing but slightly cool air. It’s so jarring that he’s instantly awake, staring at the space Jackson Healy that has been occupying every single night without fail for the past few months.

Scenes from the night before flash in his mind and he can’t quite suppress a groan. He can only hope that the other man is still in the house and not in his crappy apartment above the comedy club that had turned into an office space rather than a place to live. Surely they can fix whatever the hell went wrong between them.

The detective awkwardly scrambles out of bed, all too aware of his injured arm. He goes through his minimal morning routine feeling as though he’d been run over and left for dead in the street. He hasn’t felt this battered since the Amelia case that had brought Jack into his life to start with. Roughly wiping his damp face off with a towel, he finally steps foot into the living room.

His knees want to buckle in relief when he spots the other man standing in front of the coffee machine. Holland has to rein himself in to keep from rushing over and wrapping his arms around him, seeking reassurance that everything is all right between the two of them. Instead, he takes a seat at the breakfast bar. His cast makes a heavy thudding noise against the counter-top. Healy doesn’t so much as twitch at the sound.

Pulling a cigarette out of the pack resting on the counter, Holland observes the shorter man. He puts it between his lips and lights it. While he contemplatively takes a drag, he watches Jack take two mugs out of the cupboard and pour them both coffee. Despite last night, the other man is careful to leave Holland’s black, doctoring his own with a heaping spoon of sugar and way too much creamer. Healy picks up both mugs and places the PI’s down in front of him before taking a seat at his side.

“Holly left a note. She’s at Jessica’s. Wants us to figure our shit out,” the other man says as a greeting. Holland just nods, tired.

“So, my head is a little hazy from last night,” he says around the dangling cigarette, “but did we break up or something?”

His partner’s hold noticeably tightens on his coffee cup, almost enough to shatter the ceramic, before he relaxes his hand. When he speaks, his tone is bitter. “What was there to break up? Two men can’t be in a relationship, March. Last night at the hospital sure proved that.”

“C’mon Healy, you don’t mean that,” his voice catches in the back of his throat.

If Jackson says another hurtful thing like he just did, Holland is going to have to show him the door. He knows how he feels about the other man. Society be damned, if loving Healy is wrong, he sure as hell didn’t want to be right. He knows they’re doing to face vitriol over their relationship, but he knows there are other people like them. Hell, there is that politician in San Francisco… what was it…? Narancia? It was some kind of drink. Thinking out loud, Holland mumbles, “Juice?”

“It doesn’t matter what I mean. I can feel however I wanna about you, and it still doesn’t change things,” the other man responds while Holland thinks. After a lengthy pause he looks at him, confused. “What the hell does juice have to do with this?”

“Huh? Oh, there’s this politician. His name is some kind of drink…”

Healy puts his face in his hands and lets out a hopeless little chuckle. “Jesus, March… What do you want from me?”

That is enough to snap him back onto the topic at hand. “I just want us to go back to what we had… even twelve hours ago. When I could kiss you and you wouldn’t flinch away like I was trying to kill you. Shit, I just want us to be together without all of this .” He waves a hand in the air, his cigarette tucked between his fingers.

“I don’t want you to wake up down the line and realize you wasted your time on someone who doesn't legally matter. I can’t be there for you and Holly like a woman could. I’m the worst possible option for you.”

“And how many times do I have to tell you? That doesn’t fucking matter. I love you regardless,” he snaps back, hackles up. For a heartbeat, he doesn’t realize he said the thing that he’s been struggling to say for weeks. It dawns on him and he winces. It’s too late to suck the words back into his mouth.

Healy is deadly still. So still that Holland would even take a slap across the face if it meant that the other man had heard him. His cigarette burns to the end of the filter and he snubs it out in the nearby ashtray. He doesn’t look at his partner

Finally, the silence is broken by the bruiser's audible swallow. “You don’t mean that, March. You can’t waste that on me.”

“No, I do mean it!” He shouts, getting up from his seat to pace. Holland gets more worked up with every step he takes. “Damn it, Jack, I love you.”

Much to his trepidation, his partner also gets to his feet and approaches him. Jack stops short and clenches his hands, self-soothing. The grizzled man looks unsure, very much unlike the image of himself that he presents to the world. “I want what’s best for you and your daughter.”

“You’re what’s best for us. Look at everything positive that has come out of this. Holly thinks of you as another parent. I think of you as a partner. What I want is you .”

Jesus, he could use a little liquid courage. Even without, he still bridges the gap between the both of them and kisses the shorter man, arms firmly around his neck to keep him close. Holland meant every single word of his outburst. He breaks the kiss, anxious. “I love you so much, Jackson Healy.”

His words are finally enough to get Healy to turn the affection. Holland can’t help but sag with relief as the other man’s arms wrap around his waist and hold him tightly. They’re forehead to forehead, breath intermingling. “I… I love you too, March.”

“You better,” he quips before ducking in for another kiss. This time it’s eagerly returned. He smiles into it, nipping lightly at his partner’s mouth. He pulls away, trailing his fingers from the nape of Healy’s neck to his stomach. He toys with the hem of the other man’s shirt. “You know… there was something we were going to do last night.”

“Right, and then you went and broke your arm,” Jackson says, carefully deadpan.

“Well, yeah… But we can make up for that now.”

He’s pleased when he receives a low sound of agreement and a squeeze on the hip from his partner before the man sets off in the direction of the bedroom. He might be hopelessly needy for Jackson Healy, but at least the other man was equally as infatuated with him when he wasn’t having a crisis. If anyone was going to be panicking, it should be March. It’s his role in this ragtag little family.

On the way to the bedroom, Holland starts working to strip himself of his clothing. With his daughter out of the house, he doesn’t have to be nearly as modest. He lets his pants fall the moment the door is closed behind him. Healy is immediately crowding him against the wood. The other man’s hands with their scarred knuckles slide underneath his shirt and pull it off his head to reveal his soft body. The detective feels something tender well up in him at the careful way his partner extracts his re-fractured arm from the sleeve. Soon, he’s left in just his underwear and socks.

Healy is panting in his ear, sloppy kisses laid in the crook of his neck. He groans at the feeling of the other man’s facial hair scraping along his sensitive skin. The knee that the shorter man just wedged between his thighs is going to speed things up more than Holland would like He feels like a live wire, ready to spark at any moment. Reluctantly, he pushes at his partner’s chest with his good arm, shoving him backwards until he nearly falls on top of him when the backs of Jack’s knees make contact with the bed and he goes down onto the mattress.

With a clumsy hand, Holland strips the prone man of his sweater and his undershirt. His dick twitches with an almost painful throb in his underwear the minute the other man’s upper body is exposed. Holland desperately wants to grab hold of his shoulder and rut against his partner’s stomach until his cum is matted in the dense trail of hair adorning it, but there’s something he wants more. He clamors up onto Jack’s jean-clad thighs, legs spread wide to accommodate the girth. He presses his forehead against the man’s broad shoulder so they don’t have to make eye contact while they discuss what he wants.

“Uhh…” he starts, not very eloquently.

“Yeah, March?” Healy's newly placed hand is a soothing weight on his back.

“I know we usually give each other handies or blowjobs…” he trails off, scouring his mind for the words he needs. He fails. “Maybe we can do something more?”

“… Like using my chest?” He questions, referencing one of Holland’s earlier requests. The first one he’d ever made.

“Actually… more inside than that,” he clears his throat, thankful that the other man cannot see his flushing face. Holland has seen enough porno content while on cases. They both have holes, surely his partner can pick what he’s implying here.

“March…” Healy trails off, sounding strangled, “you want me to take it up the ass?”

“ No! I want you to stick it in me. Have me take you up the ass.”

“Oh… Yeah, yeah, we can try that, but… I haven’t y’know.”

“Well, neither have I.” Holland shrugs a little bit, not too concerned. He trusts his partner enough to not hurt him.

Finally, he peels himself off of the other man. He scrambles to find a comfortable spot on his back beside him before stripping off his boxers and throwing them onto the floor. Jesus, what he’d give for a drink right now, but Healy doesn’t fuck around with him unless they’re on equal footing when it comes to being sober.

With less confidence than he’d like, he mimics the position he’d seen once playing on a television screen at one of the more questionable places he’d questioned someone at. His legs are spread, inviting Healy to kneel between them. The other man does. Through half-lidded eyes, Holland watches him swallow and run a nervous tongue over his lips. He leaves his arms at his side, wanting him to take the lead. He’s willing to be moved around like a Ken doll by Jackson’s hands

Holland is not disappointed by the other man’s initiative. He can’t contain a moan at the feeling at the warm hand wrapping itself around his soft cock, stroking it into hardness. His pleased noises get swallowed up by Healy leaning over him to press his mouth to his. Both men are wedged together with hardly enough space for the bruiser’s hand to work at him. Holland is the one who has to break it off to draw in heaving breaths, he’s already leaking copious amounts of precum over Healy’s knuckles.

Without pausing the steady movements of his wrist, his partner checks in with him. “You doin’ alright? You’re never this quiet.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Holland responds, staring up at him. He feels his face flush again. Healy looks better than he has any right to after a night of presumably sleeping on the couch, but this was his guy. His partner. Of course he’s going to look good to the PI.

“Let’s do this already. We need lube…” He glances around the room for something to use before spotting a bottle of lotion on their bedside table. “The lotion is probably the best we’re gonna get.”

Without preamble, the other man leans over just enough to pick it up. Holland’s teeth end up worrying at his bottom lip as he watches Jack slick the fingers of his right hand until they’re pale and streaked. They two of them are as ready as they’re ever going to be for this.

His hole easily accepts the intrusion of Healy’s finger. He moans, throwing his head back into the pillow and arching his body. “Yeah, that feels good. Feels really good. Fuck .”

That finger feels even better when the other man pumps it in and out of him. He can’t keep himself still. The second only heightens the sensations he’s feeling, finally giving him enough of a stretch that foreshadows what’s to come. The detective nearly leaps off the bed when Healy’s otherwise unoccupied hand reclaims it’s place around his dick. That touch is all the warning he gets before the other man leans down and takes the head of it into the wet plushness of his mouth.

“Jesus!” He yelps. His hands are gripping the sheets, clinging onto the fabric like it’s a lifeline.

In response, his partner takes his cock further, almost deep enough to gag on it. Holland swears he’s seeing stars as he feels the bruiser’s tongue trace along the underside of his shaft. He’s still fucking into him with his fingers, daring to add a third. The lotion is just barely doing its job. The detective feels almost full.

“I’m not going to last long,” he admits, panting. It’s taking everything in him to not sink into the arms of his building orgasm.

At his warning, Healy pulls off. He stills his hands and looks up at his face. “Do you want me to stop? I can finish getting you off like this. Don’t have to go all the way.”

“No, I'm fine. Just hurry.” Holland's voice catches in the back of his throat, giving his words a whimpering quality. Something hungry flickers over his partner’s face.

“Okay, let me just…” Healy trails off, sliding his fingers free of the tight heat of Holland’s body. He unbuttons his jeans and unzips them. His dick looks engorged and flushed, twitching and tapping against his ample stomach. He slicks it down with copious amounts of lotion and takes himself in hand. He pauses with the tip of his cock just slightly pressing into Holland. “You ready?”

“Yes .”

Slowly, with a series of pauses, Healy eases his thick cock into him. Despite opening Holland up with three of his large fingers, it’s still a tight fit. The other man bottoms out, snugly seated inside of him. The sensation of his stomach brushing against his still very interested dick has him smothering a whine. He feels full, pleasantly so.

“Are you doing okay?” His partner asks, concern lacing his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he responds, “Jesus, I never realized how big you were until now.” The sentence slips out of him without his permission. He tenses up as he realizes what a weird thing it was for him to say. He could slap himself right now.

Healy doesn’t look upset, though, merely flustered. The other man clears his throat and offers him an unusual compliment in return. “You feel really good, March.”

Holland relaxes when his partner rubs a soothing circle over his hip. Perhaps sensing that he’s starting to get impatient, Healy starts to move, a slow drag of his cock nearly all the way out and bottoming out back in. He settles in to a relaxed pace. Instinctively, the detective’s back arches ever so slightly, angling so that the other man’s thrusts plunge deeper. He’s still hanging onto the sheets.

Lightning strikes him when he feels the head of the Jackson’s dick graze over his prostate. Before he’s fully aware, he’s cumming in messy spurts over the bruiser’s stomach. The resulting clench of his hole around his partner serves to drag him over the edge right along with him. Both men are shaking and muttering broken words as they empty themselves.

Shuddering from the stimulation as Healy pulls his softening cock free with a wet sound and extracts himself from their tangled position, Holland can’t help but fumble for the bedside table. His hand manages to hand on a loose, half smoked cigarette still sitting in the ashtray. Good enough. He lights it and gets it between his lips the moment he finds the lighter he keeps next to the table lamp.

“Fuck, March,” the other man groans.

The detective just nods in agreement, stricken silent for once. He had liked that, liked that way more than he probably should. He wonders if his partner would be willing to let him ride him next time.

“Didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, it felt fantastic actually,” he says. Despite feeling fucked out and limp, he leans over and kisses the other man’s stubbled cheek.

His reassurance must sooth the other man because Healy hauls himself off the bed with a groan, back popping. He heads into the en-suite bathroom to clean himself up before returning to the bed with a damp cloth. He carefully wipes Holland down much to his appreciation. It saves him the hassle of moving his cast-bound arm more than strictly necessary.

“Thanks,” he says softly and snubs out the cigarette.

He sits up enough to pull the other man into the bed beside him once they’re both clean. It’s the most natural thing in the world to tuck himself against the broad man, to feel him wrap an arm around his back and hold him close. Holland is on the cusp of telling him that he loves him again when his partner speaks.

“So… I wanna apologize,” the other half of the Nice Guys Detective Agency starts.

“What do you mean?” He asks. He thought they were squared up, that they were good again. Sure, he wasn’t upset at getting an apology, but it felt worrisome. Healy won’t meet his eyes, instead choosing to focus his gaze on the ceiling tiles.

“I was an ass after the hospital. I was a pansy and didn’t handle it like I should’ve.”

“Yeah, you were… I know you said some of the things that were bothering you when we were fighting, but what got you so worried about us?” Holland follows his line of sight up to the ceiling.

“The nurse reminded me about how I can’t be there for you when it matters, y’know? You broke your fuckin’ arm and I just had to sit in the waiting room. ‘Sides, I don’t know how to be a good partner. I did so badly with my wife she left me for my old man.”

Oh , Holland thinks. His partner had felt helpless. That would explain a lot actually.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, patting the other man’s shoulder. “I’m not very good at it either. Hell, I still don’t know how I managed to get Holly’s mom in the first place.”

“She must’ve been a very patient woman,” Healy jokes dryly..

“Like a saint.” Holland responds in kind, mildly miffed at the implication that he’s a difficult person to be with. He hovers his hand over Healy’s hair before combing through it.

The other man lets out a groan and shifts enough to sling a thick arm over his stomach, settling against him more comfortably. “It’s a good thing you didn’t get the catholic school treatment too. We’d be even more cataclysmic.”

“You’re excused?” Holland makes a face as he tries to decipher what fucking word just came out of Healy’s mouth. This feels like their ‘eunuch’ schtick all over again. He tries to quietly mouth the word ‘cataclysmic’ and make sense of the word before his partner starts to talk. Again.

“It’s like ruination,” he supplies, not bothering to open his eyes. He’s dozing off.

“Maybe Holly can buy me a dictionary next year, and I’ll be able to understand you for once.” Holland grumbles. Jackson fucking Healy everyone. He shakes his head. “We’re getting off track… you were apologizing?”

The only response he gets is a loud snore from Healy. He’s actually asleep. Out like a damn light.

“Love you too, pal,” he grumbles, feeling more fond of the man using him as a pillow than he’d ought to be.

{ previous chapter }

#the nice guys (2016)#the nice guys #the nice guys fanfic #holland march #jackson healy #ryan gosling #russel crowe #ryan gosling fanfiction #russel crowe fanfiction #holland march x jackson healy #healland #.my posts #.my work #.collab with danime25 #.my collabs

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youhideastar · 5 months

Text

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you for inviting me, @chrononautintraining!

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

133

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

1,392,316

3. what fandoms do you write for?

I tend to be a serial fandom monogamist; right now I'm writing for CQL/The Untamed, but my other biggest fandoms were White Collar and Hockey RPF (biggest in terms of how much I wrote for them, not the size of the fandom).

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

So Wise We Grow and its sequel, it may be that the gulfs will wash us down (Star Trek AOS); Unorthodox Methods (SPN/White Collar crossover); Living Proof (White Collar); and Concord (The Untamed).

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

Almost always! If I'm feeling really low-energy, I may not reply to comments that are solely emojis, but I try to respond to those as well with at least a thank-you. The only exception to my general policy of responding is comments where I seriously cannot tell if they are positive or negative (e.g., "I hate you for making me cry" - I get that one a fair amount), because I don't want to be like "I'm glad you liked it!" when they actually didn't - I feel like that would make me look really arrogant lol. I respond to comments because I treasure them and want to encourage folks to keep commenting!

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Definitely Hands Open, Eyes Closed... and I was so bothered by it that I wrote a 200k follow-up getting those characters to their happy ending!

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh, jeez, I almost only do happy endings, so that's tough. I am partial to the ending of Dangerous, which is happy both interpersonally (WWX and LWJ are together! they have a baby!) and politically (that baby is going to blow up entrenched prejudices! yay!)

8. do you get hate on any fics?

I don't, and I have no idea why not, beyond the fact that I usually have anon commenting turned off. Don't get me wrong, I do get strongly negative comments sometimes, but nothing I would characterize as "hate."

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

Oh, definitely. I guess I would say I tend toward tender, talky, d/s-inflected smut, but ultimately I do whatever the situation between the characters calls for.

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Almost never - it's pretty much just Unorthodox Methods.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! I've been fortunate to have multiple fics translated, especially my hockey RPF fics.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope!

14. what’s your all time favorite ship?

See above re: serial monogamist - right now I would swear that it's Wangxian 4EVA but check back in in a couple years.

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Definitely my Wangxian lawyer AU. I have big chunks of it written, but it would be more than 100k and I have so many other WIPs in line ahead of it. It'll probably end up as WIP Amnesty, though it breaks my heart to say it.

16. what are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and worldbuilding.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Physical description is often an afterthought. I default to describing lighting when I have to set a scene. I struggle to create a sense of the passing of time unless I have an external scaffolding to set the story on - in hockey RPF, the rhythm of the hockey season could give me that scaffold, but in my fics for CQL, the struggle is back.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Best kept to a minimum, when it comes to actual dialogue, but when it comes to individual terms (Wen-guniang, hai shi, zhiji, etc., and Russian and Czech terms in hockey rpf), I do it pretty liberally. It's good for English speakers to have to look stuff up sometimes. It builds character. 😂

19. first fandom you wrote for?

Stargate: Atlantis!

20. favorite fic you’ve written?

My favorite fic I've written is actually a WIP Amnesty piece I never finished (but which readers have told me is satisfying as-is, thankfully): The Words in Your Head, an X-Men: First Class modern AU in which Charles and Erik are college students who help start a GSA (that's a gay-straight alliance, for those of you who were not queer teenagers in the late nineties or early aughts 😂) at Raven's high school. It's so personal to me (the kid who started her own high school's GSA 20 years ago) and carries so much of my own feelings about gender and queerness and queer community, and I feel so tender about the characters. I think, ultimately, the fact that it made me feel so raw is the reason I couldn't take it across the line to a polished final draft. But I will love it forever.

If you’d like to play, I hereby tag you in spirit! For the meme, I’ll invite @queenofattolia, @travelingneuritis, and @existentially-yibo.

#fic asks #ask game #my writing

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porcelainpillowprince · 3 months

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about me .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

read before following .ᐟ ★.˚𖦹｡⋆

hello !! you can call me myung (mi-ung) ! i'm 18, i use it/its , im a trans male + some xenos , and gay for my lovely boyfriend (taken) ! im a bottom leaning switch and 90% of posts will be bottom themed. this is a nblm/mlm centric account!!!!!

this is my silly little blog to get all of my horny brainrot out :]

my posts are light hearted nsfw writings both short and long form (when i get the time lol). i won't post any violent kinks or scenarios so you're safe with me here !! my posts are very in-the-moment and occasionally sappy and romantic because i don't see alot of that stuff!!! so i've taken matters into my own hands !! i don't take things to seriously here so i may often re/post stupid things or cute photos as well since this is my only account currently! (i may eventually start a sideblog for aesthetics or fandom things but we'll see!!)

i really do hope you enjoy reading ! i always love feedback on what you think or any ideas you'd want me to ramble about (i do love talking lol) my ask box is always open and i'd be grateful if you left any fun concepts , silly messages , or just a "hey i like your posts!" i do have some limits on what i will write but if you're unsure then don't be afraid to message me or drop it in anyways and ill always reply !! im very friendly don't be scared i don't bite (my posts say otherwise but i promise i wont bite you guys).

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

‧₊˚.𖥔 dni ⋆˙ᝰ.ᐟ

hard kinks , r4peplay / cnc , women , fem-aligned , minors , ageless or empty page , chasers , fujoshi , ed blogs , people interested in flirting with me / sexting / relationship

all of these are insta-block on interaction (like, follow, reblog etc.) .ᐟ

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‧₊˚.𖥔 kinks ⋆˙ᝰ.ᐟ

"yes .ᐟ" ★.˚𖦹｡⋆

praise/degradation , dacryphilia , light somno , overstimulation , desperation , begging , bondage , creampie , breeding (no preg) , biting , petplay (some aspects not all) , marking , orgasm control/denial , royalty , vampirism , cockwarming , possessive , soft objectification (i am literally a doll lol) , free use (in specific contexts) , manhandling/wrestling

( may add more later .ᐟ )

"no .ᐟ" ★.˚𖦹｡⋆

any hard or violent kinks , non-con , dub-con , drugging , omorashi/piss cnc , rapeplay , detrans , misgendering , torture , scat , gore , impact (receiving) , inflation , incest , vomit , hypno , gangbang/threesome/polyamory , primal , anything dead dove/ taboo , any usage of "daddy" regardless of ddlb/g involvement.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

‧₊˚.𖥔 terms ⋆˙ᝰ.ᐟ

terms/ names i enjoy and am likely to use in my posts .ᐟ

- pretty boy

- good boy

- cuntboy

- prince

- slut

- (stupid/pretty) mutt

- (stupid/pretty) dog

- (sex) doll

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‧₊˚.𖥔 asks ⋆˙ᝰ.ᐟ

my rules for asks are fairly simple and i love answering questions .ᐟ

yes .ᐟ ★.˚𖦹｡⋆

ask questions about my blog or me , request specific writings or share ideas , ask my opinion or input on certain kinks or scenes (i enjoy learning about new things so pls share your favorites!) , ask for longer writings or for me to expand on a previous post

hmm.. ★.˚𖦹｡⋆

ask questions about my boyfriend (i have to check with them first lol) , ask to promote your blog (i gotta check it out first but usually yes!!!) ,

no .ᐟ ★.˚𖦹｡⋆

ask for me to post photos of myself publicly or share privately , ask for onlyfans or other social medias , ask for writings about kinks i don't like or with concepts that i am uncomfortable with

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

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gor0uz · 2 years

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zhongli/childe fic recs

I've been hoarding these for the better part of the last 12 months. a lovely dynamic, though I do wish works focused more on the violent parts of Childe and less on how much of a loser he is. and also unlocking some more ferality in zhongli. please peel back their layers of civility and reveal the rawness within. (edit: is it ok to link my own fic? 9k 1/1, I really loved exploring two monsters loving each other, read tags! :] )

1) sunshine riptide by rire. 23k, 4/4. the opening of this fic really set the scene. by that, I mean a persistent sad face while reading that got deeper and deeper as I reached the end. I also love the title.

2) night time; tea leaves; good company by dirtmemer. 5.7k, 1/1. this reads like a ship classic. I'm so happy with the way Childe is written. If only it was more violent.

3) if i choose not to see it, it does not exist by inareese. 4.9k, 1/1. suuuper popular fic, and for good reason.

4) forfend by en passant. 21k, 3/3. amazing. additional tags: gore, body horror, intrusive thoughts. it’s right up my alley.

5) somewhere holy by apricotlipped. 3.4k, 1/1. a stunning little thing. bit of a character study on both of them.

--the Bgtea interlude- they’re a super popular author and a very prolific writer, deservedly so. I don’t usually read incomplete fics, but I follow (6) Entirely Out of Spite religiously and I am confident that it will be completed.

7) The Autumn Winds Are Sighing by Bgtea. 138k, 21/21. The highest hitter of this ship; a cemented classic. Well done.

8) Pulcinella’s Guide to PR and Marketing Strategies- Idol Edition by Bgtea. 20k, 3/3. for some reason this is not as popular as the aforementioned, but it should be. I laughed out loud multiple times. a delight to read.

9) Of Gold by IlluminanceinTales. 18k, 2/2. a zhongli-centered fic focused on loss and grief. This work really resonated with me. If there was one thing that I dislike, it is that the ending (the second half, really) felt rushed. I just wanted to read more but I understand how hard this fic must have been to write.

10) grounding by en passant. 12k, 4/4. Childe centric/charcter study. nicely gruesome.

11) aim for the heart by wolframvonbielefeld. 3.5k, 1/1. I love this idea. Childe centric.

12) bond default by yenkieu. 13k, 1/1. also reads like a ship classic. this is when I realize exactly how much I like reading fics with similar-ish happenings, or at least very similar themes.

13) one lantern, two prayers by wolframvonbielefeld. 4.5k, 1/1. lantern rite date and then some. a case study in how to choose which excerpt to use in the summary. it certainly drew me in. what an amazing excerpt.

14) slow embers by lady_peony. 13k, 5/5. THE food date fic. this tag sums it well: ‘in liyue we don’t apologize we just vibe.’

15) yanluo wang by tzitzimeme. 5.2k, 1/1. I usually don't leave a note when I bookmark something on ao3 because I remember what happens. except for this fic. a lot of ‘oh my god’s and some tear stains on my iPad for this one.

16) along the wild geese, my heart flies by lady_peony. 5.8k, 1/1. this author knows how to write good fic.

17) my faceless self, alone by recursion. 7k, 1/1. zhongli centric fic. comes with all the pain and anguish with it being so.

18) farewell, my archaic lord by growingclouds. 11k, 4/4. I swear I thought this fic was completed waay later than feb 2022. I guess I just think of it that often. Chinese opera and zhongli/childe!!! yunjin!! an amazing work all-round.

19) sir knight, please get out of my tree by oronine. 9k words, 1/1. a nice and light historical au. female zhongli.

20) sometimes it’s impossible by crossbelladonna. 4.7k, 1/1. cute.

21) the consultant’s kidnapping by glassdrachma. 19k, 14/14. crack treated seriously. I love this. super funny.

#genshin impact #tartali #zhongchi #zhongli #childe #genshin fic recs #zhongli/childe #fic rec #genshin impact fic rec #genshin fic rec

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clockworkspider · 9 months

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Ohhh that tarot prompt game is such a cool idea 👉👈

Yuzuru and Ibara?

Or, if you're not comfortable with them, Keito and Eichi because I will never shut up about them?

Doesnt need to be romantic!!

Keito and Eichi ended up with the better card draws.

Six of cups - Happy memories from the past, inner child Reversed Hanged Man - Resisting change of perspective Reversed Devil - Attachment holding one back, unable to let go

cw: end of life discussions

Keito and Eichi finalizes Eichi's funeral plans.

—

“Keito! I’m so glad to see you! If I have to talk to another lawyer I think I’m going to die two months early. Did you bring the Item?”

“Don’t joke about that. And yes, I brought it. Tho I think it’s still too soon to revisit this. My family and I will take care of everything, so why don’t you focus on living.” From his bag, Keito withdrew an old notebook. Tho the color of the cover has faded with time, the edges were as crisp as they were 18 years ago. On the cover, in the neat and stiff writing of a child, were the words ‘Eichi’s funeral plans’.

“I want to finalize this while I still have the energy, otherwise my family will have everything their way.” Eichi answered, a matter of fact.

“Funerals are for the living, you know?” Keito chided half-heartedly. Already prepared to execute Eichi’s demands, no matter how unreasonable.

“That’s why we’re reworking it, right? I’m not gonna ask to keep the pyramid, so you can relax. I’m sure with the amount of proposals we’ve overseen thus far, we can come up with something dignified enough to satisfy my family. But it’d be a shame if there’s no trace of all the hard work of our childhood selves.”

“Fine,” Keito said. He sat down, opened the notebook, took out a pen, and grimaced.

“Oh?” Eichi intoned.

“Our imagination truly knew no bounds back then,” Keito explained.

“Pass it, I wanna see!” Eichi took the notebook and poured over it, occasionally reading aloud what he thought were amusing.

“Oh my gosh, is that your writing? Did you actually make a vampire shogun reference here?”

“It was a cool scene. I think it’s very poetic and appropriate for a buddhist funeral. You seem to have agreed here.”

At that, Eichi fell silent, and just stared.

“What?” Keito asked.

“I’m just thinking of how familiar this look. You, sitting by my hospital bed, with that notebook and pencil in your hands, planning my funeral,” he said, smiling.

And now it was Keito’s turn to be silent.

“It was easier back then,” he finally said, looking away.

“I never thought I’d live this long back then, to be honest,” Eichi answered.

Keito had nothing to say to that.

—

They spent some time pouring over the details, going between reminiscing their childhood and working on the new plan in an unhurried fashion. Truth be told, neither of them had any time to waste. Still Keito argued over the increasingly silly ideas seriously. If they keep working on it, it would never become something final.

“Anzu has volunteered to organize a send-off party with our generation of yumenosaki graduates and the initial ES staff. We can incorporate some of the more light hearted ideas there instead, so the funeral itself can be more solemn, and you can take part yourself if you have the energy,” Keito said.

“Really? She didn’t tell me!”

“We were going to finalize a few things first after our session together today. She didn’t want to trouble you with it at the early stage yet, but I figured you’d want to start composing your monologues.”

“Fufufu…”

“What now?”

“Keito has changed. The past Keito would have never relinquish part of his plans to someone else.

“Well, if it’s that girl, I’m sure she’ll handle it with care.”

“Keito is more proud of our beloved Anzu than anyone, right? You’re the one who corrected all her earliest proposals. I’ve seen the mark-ups. You were merciless, you practically re-wrote the whole thing!”

“Well, she’s fixing mine now.”

“She’s come a lone way, hasn’t she? Tori too… To think we’ve started the path to our dreams with so many blunders. Back then, I never thought we’d get this far. To think that I got a chance to stand shoulder to shoulder with Wataru… And Akatsuki has come so far too. I know you and Rei fought the long fight with Rhylin execs and won. I’m proud of us.”

“Save that for the speech,” Keito said, paused, and added, “I’m proud of us too.”

“But you know, I don’t really know if i’m sold on the idea of a light hearted sendoff and a heavy solemn funeral. I know some people want their friends and family to send them off with a smile. Like it’s all going to be alright and they can go happy. That’s just lying to themselves, right? I’d rather see how much people will miss me while I’m still alive,” Eichi said glumly. Then, with a bit of mischief in his eyes. “Say, why don’t you cry for me now, Keito?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! How did the conversation even turn to here? I’m not Hibiki, I can’t cry on command.”

“But you’ll cry for me after I’m gone, right? That’s so unfair, everyone else will get to see it except your childhood friend. Rei mentioned he made you cry on stage once. And to think I missed it!”

“I wasn’t crying on stage! Stop bringing that up!” Keito snapped, then sighed, an expression of immense pain. “Anyway, you can’t ask that of me.

“It’s the job of officiant to direct the mourners and keep things together until the end. It’s not my turn to mourn until everyone else are done. To ask me to cry for you while you’re still alive. Incorrigible.” He tutted, and he didn’t say, ‘If I do, I don’t know if I’d be able to stop. If I give in to grief, and let it swallow me whole, I don’t know if I’d ever resurface.'

Eichi laughed, startling and crystal clear. “But Keito has been crying for me all these years, haven’t you?” A pause. “When I look at you, my first friend, I can’t decide if I want you to move on and be happy, or if I want you to mourn me forever. When I think of the person all of you will become without me in your lives, it hurts so much.

“In Buddhism, they say attachment the source of all suffering, right? And seeing Keito suffer is a hobby of mine.”

“You use to be so cute,” Keito muttered, “how did you grow up to be so twisted?”

To that, Eichi could only chuckle.

“Hey, Keito,” Eichi said, “I’m not ready to go.

“I don’t want to leave.”

And Keito, without words, pulled him into his arms in a trembling hug, crushing them together tighter than they’ve ever been before.

“I don’t want to go, Keito,” he repeated, over and over, between sobs he didn’t know if they were his own, “I don’t want to go.”

—

“No Eichi, we are not doing the scavenger hunt on your funeral. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’re already thinking of clues, right? Keito loves that kind of thing. I know you do.”

#keichi #keito hasumi #eichi tenshouin #ensemble stars #enstars #dontsteponthatfish #my fic

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