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#they don't know the inspiration that these could bring
rafeandonlyrafe · 1 day
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weekend away
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words: 3.2k
a/n: of course inspired by these precious pictures of drew <3
warnings: 18+ only, dad!rafe, mom!reader, established relationship, theyre maaaarried <3, VERY FLUFFY, descriptions of breastfeeding, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (but reader is on birth control), rafe is like the best dad everrr
“okay…” you look into your trunk, mentally going through your checklist. stroller, check, folder up and ready for daisys car seat to be placed on. diaper bag, check, with extra diapers just in case. pump, check. carrier, baby carrier, check. extra change of clothes, check.
you have everything you could possibly need for daisy, not even realizing that you completely forgot about yourself.
“got your suitcase packed, baby?” rafe asks, daisy in his arms, happy to be cradled there, looking up at her daddy with wide eyes.
“shit!” you squeal, before covering your mouth. daisy may be too young to understand your words, but you still try not to curse in front of her.
“hey, it's okay.” rafe can instantly see your nerves skyrocketing. of course you were too focused on getting everything for your daughter that you completely forgot that it's a weekend trip you'll be going on too.
“okay, i um- ill just throw some clothes in a bag then-”
“baby.” rafe easily switches daisy to one arm, wrapping his now free one around your shoulders. you relax into his hold, reminded how protected you feel by rafe. “we aren't in a rush. we can delay taking off for a bit, okay? it's not that long of a drive.”
“okay.” you nod, arms circling around his waist as you turn to face rafe, pressing your cheek into his side as you smile down at daisy. “hi baby. mama is a bit of a mess right now.”
“don't talk about yourself like that.” rafe says softly, leaning to press a kiss to the top of you're head. “you're doing amazing. you juggle so much, it's a surprise you don't forget things more often.”
you let out a little chuckle, which daisy copies as her little mouth turns into a smile.
“okay, ill go get started.” you sigh. you can't believe your mind has been so scattered and focused on getting daisy ready that you completely forgot about doing anything for yourself.
“we will help.” rafe closes the trunk, heading back inside to follow you up the stairs. “not sure how much help daisy will be, but you got me at least.”
you end up packing pretty quickly, especially since you're bringing a big suitcase, way too big for just a couple days out of town, so you're easily able to throw in more than you need, just in case.
“alright.” rafe hums. “both suitcases loaded, we just need to get daisy in her car seat.”
“great.” you groan. daisy recently developed a hatred for her car seat, after you planned a nice weekend trip a few hours away from the outer banks.
“how about i try?” you know it won't make a difference, but you nod, letting rafe carry daisy towards the car, trying to distract with coos and even snuggling his nose into her tummy, but by the time she's over the seat, she turns straight as a board.
you can barely watch as her sweet face turns to one of sadness, tears falling down her cheeks.
“oh my poor baby.” you coo after rafe gets her all buckled in. “you want mama to ride back here with you?”
you're not sure it will help, but you climb into the backseat to sit next to the car seat while rafe gets in to drive.
“it is almost nap time, maybe she'll fall asleep quickly.” rafe shrugs as he pulls the car out of the driveway, always extra careful when he's bringing you or daisy anywhere.
“maybe.” you hum, petting over her forehead and down her nose until her cries stop, eyes close, and her chest begins to rise and fall slower.
you don't even realize as rafe happily drives you to your destination that as daisy falls asleep, so do you, head resting against her car seat as you catch up on some rest.
rafe smiles when he sees you in the backseat completely knocked out, even snapping a picture when he stops at a toll.
he keeps the radio down low to not wake either of you until he arrives to the airbnb, a delightful cottage right on the beach. it's not too different from home, but the bigger city offers more things to do, and you plan to take advantage of your time away and show daisy all the things she hasn't experienced yet like zoos and museums.
“babes.” rafe calls out. “we're here.”
“oh my gosh.” you let out a yawn, stretching your back out from the awkward hunched position against the car seat. “that went by so fast.”
“thats what happens when you sleep the whole way.” rafe chuckles.
“shut up.” you giggle, leaning between the front seats to press a kiss to his lips. “thanks for driving us. we love you so much.”
you know you can speak for your daughter, it's so evident how much daisy loves rafe, even if she can't find the words yet.
“love you too, baby.” rafe looks back at daisy, the mirror set up on the headrest of the seat to give him a view of her face. “we should get inside quick, she's gonna wake up hungry.”
“ugh, my poor boobs.” you whine. you love getting to breastfeed daisy, and feel so lucky that you have a good milk supply, but it is hard on your body as well.
“you're amazing.” rafe says earnestly. you turned his life around completely when you began dating him, and it only got even better when daisy was born. he made a pact while she was still inside your tummy to get his shit together, mend his life that was broken.
“oh, shush.” you blush, rafe still able to make you feel shy to this day. 
you get out of the car, looking at the airbnb. you swear it looks even better in person, the warm sun beautifully illuminating the white stand as you walk in, punching in the code that you had already memorized.
you know rafe is bringing daisy in, so you take a moment to inspect the house, the two bedrooms and one nursery as well as the open living area, big windows pointing out to the ocean.
you hear daisys cries before rafe enters with her in his arms. “she's ready for you.”
you take her quickly, sitting down in the plush armchair as you adjust your shirt and nursing bra to free your nipple, which she quickly latches onto.
you can hear rafe bringing in your bags and everything you need for daisy as you nurse and stare out at the ocean.
“all done, baby?” you ask her after she pulls away, a blissed out, happy look on her face.
“ill burp her.” rafe picks daisy up from your arms before you even realize it, clearly missing his girl as you close up your bra and pull your shirt down. you follow rafe out onto the back deck, wrapping your arms around his waist as you listen to the familiar sounds of waves hitting the shore.
“are you tired from the drive?” you ask him. “you can nap and ill entertain daisy and make us dinner.”
“im okay.” rafe turns around to tug you into his side. “and let's just order pizza or something, this is vacation, you don't have to cook.”
“okay.” you get on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before leaning back against his side. you'll order later, after you've started out at the ocean with him, the uninterrupted sea of blue.
--
“ah, ah, ah.” rafe stops you, taking the baby carrier out of your hands. “ill wear her.”
you nod, grabbing the diaper bag and slinging it over your shoulder, which rafe also takes after he puts the carrier on.
“baby, i can carry something.” you laugh as he gets poppy out of her carseat, her cries instantly stopping now that she's free of the car.
“i know you can. but im a good husband, and i got it.”
“okay.” you shrug. “whatever you want baby.”
rafe loads daisy into the carrier, adjusting her to face outward so she can see all of the animals as you walk through the zoo.
“sunscreen.” you remind rafe, putting the cream onto daisys delicate skin. you swipe it across rafes nose as he makes a face.
“you need it too.” you chastise, smearing it across his face, rubbing it all in so he's not embarrassed. you'd already applied sunscreen underneath your makeup at the cottage earlier, so you just refresh your exposed shoulders.
you make quick work of admissions at the zoo, having already bought your tickets online.
“what do you wanna see first, baby?” rafe asks, hand looped together tight with yours. 
“umm, how about the red pandas?” you motion towards the asia section of the zoo.
“sounds perfect.” rafe very willingly follows you throughout, daisy happily watching the animals as well as smiling at anyone who passes by.
“stop, they're so cute!” you coo as you look at the pandas. “i want to pet one.”
“don't tempt me to figure out a way for you to do that, baby.” rafe laughs, your pout quickly disappearing off your face, knowing it's not beyond rafe to bribe a zookeeper to let you feel the red pandas fluffy tail.
“what would you like to see, daisy girl?” you coo, rubbing your fingers over her cheeks.
“let's check out the chimpanzees and then we should probably find a place for you to nurse.” rafe is well aware of daisys feeding schedule, and you had to choose between taking her to the zoo during nap time or having to figure out feeding her during the trip.
“sounds good.” you allow rafe to loop his arm around your waist. 
rafe is just as delighted by the chimps swinging across their play structure as daisy is, her hands clapping together, chubby cheeks pushed up in a happy smile.
she cries when you walk away, but you recognize that the attitude is mostly from her being hungry.
“come on, baby.” you coo, finding a quiet shaded area with a comfortable bench.
you cover your front with a light blanket as rafe sits next to you, gently rubbing your shoulder and stroking over your hair as daisy feeds.
“she's probably gonna take like a 15 minute milk nap after this.” you say to rafe. “we can go check out the natural history museum.”
“good idea.” rafe nods. “i know how much you like to read random ass signs.”
“ugh, not my fault i like to learn information! unlike you, dummy.”
“hey.” rafe tickles his finger into the crook for your neck.
daisy falls asleep when she's done nursing, just as you predicted. you tuck her into the crook of your arm, not wanting to risk transferring her to the baby carrier, she'd most certainly wake up.
rafes hand stays on your back throughout the entire museum. you look through every sign, every taxidermied animal and the prehistoric scenes of the area the zoo has set up.
daisy stirs in your arms as you walk outside, the afternoon sun on her face waking her up. “hey princess.” you tell her, always surprised how quickly she recovers from her naps, now wide awake seconds later.
“wanna go to daddy? yeah?” you hand her over to go back into the baby carrier, heading towards the north america section. you like seeing the moose, and rafe the brown bears, while daisy gets an absolute kick out of the american otters, watching them swish through the water and flip off the glass partition.
you continue through most of the zoo, deciding to rush through the aquarium and skip the africa section as daisys nap time quickly approaches.
you exit the zoo hand in hand with rafe, and for once daisy doesn't fight being put in her carseat as she instantly falls asleep.
--
daisy is sitting in between your legs, giggling as she runs her hands through the sand. you keep a close eye on her to make sure she doesn't try to experiment and eat any, but you're also distracted by rafe sitting shirtless next to you.
“when daisy is older, we should take her to the west coast so we can watch the sunset over the ocean.” he says, moving closer to you to wrap his arm around you.
“id love that. its so fun bringing her places.” you know daisy is too young to remember this trip, but she has loved staying someplace different, getting to see all sorts of new things. 
you head back home tomorrow, back to the reality of the outer banks.
“baby girl is gonna be beyond spoiled.” rafe laughs softly, leaning forward to readjust the bow on the top of her head.
“if you spoil her as much as you spoil me, she sure will.” you lean into rafes side, gently watching the waves until daisy starts to get tired and bored, crawling back towards you.
“nursing then bedtime, alright daisy?” you coo at her, picking her up as you walk with rafe back into the cottage, dusting your sandy feet off before going in. “it's a long drive again tomorrow and daddy needs a good sleep.”
“mmm, i was hoping after you put her down we could…” rafe clears his throat. your eyes widen, understanding what he means.
“yeah.” you nod, sitting down in the armchair that has become your prime feeding place over the weekend trip. “id really love that.”
“perfect.” rafe bends to press a kiss to your forehead. “im gonna go shower. let me know if you need any help getting her down.”
daisy happily latches onto your boob, pulling off when she's about halfway done as she gets fussy.
“oh, girly.” you giggle. “you're just tired!”
you move into the nursery to change her into pajamas as well as make sure she has a fresh diaper before finishing feeding her. by the time you set her down in the crib, she's out like a light.
you grab the baby monitor and bring it into your bedroom, smiling when you see rafe sitting on the edge of the bed, towel wrapped around his hips, hair still slightly wet from the shower.
“she's asleep?” he confirms as you place the baby monitor on the dresser.
“she is.” you move quickly over to rafe, bending to press a kiss to his lips as your hands move quickly to undo his towel, opening the damp fabric to reveal his cock.
you kiss as your hand explores his length, feeling it harden beneath your fingertips before you begin to stroke.
“you're gonna kill me, baby.” rafe groans against your lips. “ive missed your hands so much.”
“missed this too.” you confirm. sex with rafe has been scarce since daisy. your body took a while to recover, and while he was patient throughout that, even once you were ready to have sex, daisy often interrupted you by needing her diaper changed or to be rocked back to sleep.
“come on, i want to see you.” rafe tugs at your shirt.
you stand to lose your tank top, removing your bra next. you still feel a little insecure about your stomach. you lost a bit of the weight you gained throughout pregnancy, but you don't know if you'll ever get back to how you were before.
“hey-” rafe stands, seeming to sense your feelings. “you're beautiful.”
“thank you.” you say, tears welling up in your eyes, but not from your insecurities, but from the sheer love you have for rafe.
“now get on the bed so i can show you how beautiful i find you.”
you take your pants and underwear off as you lay down, placing your head on the pillows as you look up at rafe. you used to be much more adventurous when it came to sex, trying out different positions or even introducing toys, but just like in many other ways, being a parent has made your sex more boring.
rafe drapes himself over your body, his cock rubbing through your folds. until daisy is much older and always sleeps through the night, there's still a chance she will wake up, so speed is of the essence.
rafe lines his cock up, pushing it inside of your tight heat with a low groan, needing to stay pretty quiet to not wake daisy, glad that the ocean out the window is providing her some white noise.
“god, you feel so good.” rafe says, eyelids fluttering closed as he stills, allowing you to adjust to his length.
you let out a moan, reaching up to wrap your arms around rafes shoulders, pulling his body against yours.
your chest rubs together as rafe begins to thrust, thankfully not moving too much as your nipples are so sensitive they sometimes hurt.
“i love you.” you whisper to rafe. “i love you so much.”
“we should have a wedding.” rafe says mid-thrust, making your eyes widen as he continues talking. “we should renew our vows when daisy is old enough to be our flower girl.”
“okay.” you nod. you have no problem with throwing an actual party to celebrate your marriage, considering when you found out you were pregnant and told rafe, you settled for a small and quick courthouse wedding with just a few family members and friends in attendance.
“i just love you so much.” he says, voice slightly strained as he continues thrusting.
“i know.” you lean up again to press your lips against his, his mouth staying slightly ajar as he pants.
“i love daisy too. i love our family.” rafe is moving so fast inside of you, rambling as he fucks you. “i wanna have more kids. after we renew our vows and i give you the wedding you deserve.”
“okay.” you giggle, smiling up at rafe. “we can do all of that, baby. we have all the time in the world.”
rafe nods, eyes closing as he concentrates on moving his hips just how you like it, the same motions that got you pregnant with daisy, now prevented from happening again with your daily pill.
“close.” rafe warns, and you're not far off either, only needing a couple more thrusts before you cum with a muffled shout, having covered your mouth with your hand just in time.
your cunt squeezing around him as your high pushes through your body is all rafe needs to spill inside of you with a soft moan of your name.
his arms give out as he rests on top of you, but you don't mind the weight as you stroke your fingers through his short hair. 
it's comforting, the silence, the way your bodies are pressed together, but it's interrupted by a cry through the baby monitor.
“i got her.” rafe says before you can even react. he pushes himself out of bed and pulls on a pair of sweats before rushing into the nursery.
you take a moment to reach over to the tissues on the nightstand, cleaning yourself off at least good enough for the night as you wrap the blankets around yourself.
you try to stay awake until rafe comes back in, to tell him yet again how much you love him, but by the time he's done changing daisys diaper and gets her back to sleep, you're deep in sleep.
rafe smiles as he reenters the bedroom, seeing you all wrapped up with a slight smile on your face as you dream. rafe lays down next to you, wondering how he ever got so lucky.
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Sins Of The Father, Fuck The Daughter - Lewis Hamilton
Switching Team pt 3
Dark fic 18+ - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
Warnings/themes: Age gap, smut , coercion, manipulation, corruption/innocence kinks, gaslighting, parental intervention, baby trapping, revenge
@omgsuperstarg is being massively credited bc she has helped inspire so many ideas w this series so have to give a shout out.
One more part after this and then we're calling it on the series.
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Another race weekend. Another endless train of clips seeing his very recently wrecked daughter dripping in red.
The whole world has noted that y/n always seems to have swollen lips, from whatever activity herself and Lewis were enjoying before arriving. Her red dresses practically uniform and this week came with an addition of all red Louboutins and a gust of wind did give some of the paddock a peak at what is better described as red string under her dress rather than anything that could be described as underwear
The media has tried it's best not to dwell too much on the matter but the transformation of the quiet and shy girl who seem to definite the innocence of wearing white has now been touched by Lewis and seems to be transformed. Hardly recognisable as the same person.
"Toto, we know that you have seemed to have lost two people to supporting red. How are you feeling about y/n's new relationship?" The reporter asks with a smile jumping at the opportunity to get Toto's opinion since everyone knows of his and Lewis' feud.
"I think I will have to console my daughter when she comes to her senses and sees Lewis is only corrupting her to hurt me. Which I think is quite poor form from someone like Lewis. Perhaps Fred can get his driver under control." Toto states making somewhat of a joke at the end, though even picks up on the tone and suggestion behind it.
"Fred?"
"I imagine Toto has more control over his daughter than I do over Lewis. It is my job to handle my drivers as drivers, not to monitor their personal lives." Fred shrugs earning a slight glare from the Mercedes team principal. "We are here to race."
"You should try reminding your driver of that when he's flaunting my daughter around like a possession." Toto grumbles earning a very obvious side eye from the Frenchman.
-
Y/n feels Lewis' hand clap over her mouth as his other hand pushes down on her stomach, forcing the bulge almost up into her other organs with the sensation of pain merging with pleasure and earning a muffled but still audible moan as she milks ever drop of cum from him.
Lewis has decided that he won't be fully satisfied about having successfully taken y/n from Toto until she's got his child. Though he might have to ease up on bruising her insides at that point, he's almost certain her tummy does actually have a small bruise from his dick.
Seeing her in all red actually brings out some primary instinct to fuck her till she's walking like the memory of his dick being in her is permanently there.
He'd had a conversation with Fred and then he saw the press conference and he decided that if Toto was so eager to see his daughter then he'd see it be done.
"That's a lot." Y/n mumbles commenting on the feeling of his cum flood out of her. "You want me to not wipe it?"
"No. We're going to see your dad."
"I really don't want to." Y/n mumbles then wincing when two fingers press into her before he removes them and raises his fingers to her races.
"Clean up." Lewis instructs making her look as his other hand squeezes her thigh in warning.
Y/n swallows before holding his hand to put his fingers in her mouth licking his fingers clean of the salty cum.
"Come on. We're going to see your dad and Susie."
"But-"
"Y/n." Lewis cuts in his short temper being a result of Toto's comments and the hurt expression on y/n's face makes him realise that he maybe needs to remember that she might be his daughter but she's an innocent in this matter. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but we don't have time and you know I like-"
"I know. But I don't even want to speak to my dad...I don't understand why you're pushing for it." Y/n mumbles with a pout.
"Because he wants to see you and he's blaming me stopping you as the reason why you won't." Lewis states earning a small nod. "You don't have to speak to him for long."
"Can't you just do the talking?" Y/n sighs earning a small smile of amusement.
"You have to say something, but I'll talk to him as well." Lewis assures her while helping her stand up. "Good?"
"Yeah."
They walk through the paddock moving to the Mercedes unit where Toto is actually sitting outside with Susie and Jack.
Despite their relation, Jack doesn't know much of his sister. By the time he came alone she'd long since been left in isolation and the two are anything but close.
"Why don't you go find George, Jack?" Susie asks, not wanting to leave but also not feeling Jack should be involved in the conversation. Thankfully he rushes off eager to speak to George since he admires the lanky Brit a lot.
"Y/n, how have you been?" Toto asks as Lewis pulls out a chair for her and tucks it in. "I didn't know you had such a love for the colour red."
"Toto." Susie scolds as Lewis sits down looking fairly smug.
"I'm here because Lewis asked it of me, if you intend to be disrespectful we can leave." Y/n states crossing her arms and frowning at him. "I didn't ask for this you know."
"Well if Lewis would stop using you-"
"Enough, Toto." Susie cuts in sharply.
Y/n swallows since Susie has always defended her but it's complicated between them.
"Lewis, whether your intentions were motivated by revenge on Toto or genuine feelings for y/n. You clearly have made her happy and that is what is important." Susie smiles looking at y/n. "Are you happy?"
"Yes."
"Then that's all that matters." Susie assures her then linking her hand with Toto's. "Your dad won't be making anymore public comments about it."
Toto makes no verbal confirmation, too busy trying to stare Lewis down but the driver is unwavering.
"I'm glad we all had this talk, it's been important. Y/n and I have to go, things to do. Come on, y/n."
The two leave though Toto and Susie both notice the bodily fluid that's now leaked low enough to be visible and if you glimpse you'll spot it.
"He is doing it on purpose. He is trying to provoke a reaction-Susie, you cannot expect him to allow this." Toto hisses to his wife. "He treats her like property and with no respect. How can you be ok with it?"
"Y/n is an adult. We have to let her make her own mistakes to learn her own consequences." Susie sighs then smiling at him. "We can only hope the consequences don't come in a form that she regrets in the long term."
-
Y/n watches Lewis talking to his engineers, ready to get the car out onto the grid.
There's been an off feeling since her and Lewis left that very short and uncomfortable meeting with her parents. She appreciates Susie's efforts but it's fairly obvious where Toto's feelings lie and she didn't miss that Lewis was purposely sitting like the cat who got the cream. Quite literally.
"Y/n, good luck kiss?" Lewis smiles catching her attention and earning a smile. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah, just thinking about earlier. It's...fine."
"Hey...don't let them ruin a good day. You look gorgeous, the race is going to be good and I want to see you afterwards with that gorgeous smile. All for me."
Y/n actually does genuinely smile over his words and when he leans in for a kiss it's fairly obvious his goal of perking her up was very successful. Something they're both very grateful for.
Watching the race y/n is so focused on Lewis she doesn't actually notice the cars around him, not till George appears and looks like he's trying to be the next torpedo driver as he tries a dive bomb and just completely smacks into Lewis, ripping through the right side of red sidepod and wrecking the floor.
"What the fuck?" Y/n whispers standing up as collective groans and yells of outrage shout through the garage.
That's race ending damage even if he wanted to continue.
They call for him to come in and he's pulled into the garage after trying to see if there's any chance of the car continuing but as suspected it's done for.
Lewis gets out being weighed before he takes a moment then sighs moving to his engineer. They spend a while watching replays, onboard, looking from different angles and he even moves back to the care talking to the mechanics as they inspect the damage which is severe.
"Are you ok?" Y/n mumbles making him look at her as he places his helmet down.
"You're never talking to your dad again." Lewis states earning a slightly shocked expression. It's one thing for her to be angry at.
Now George truly could've pulled that move of his own decision, he's the exact type of driver who would. Like an idiot. He got off lucky doing it.
"Y/n, I mean it." Lewis grumbles as a PR assistant appears telling him they need to get him to media. "I'll see you in the unit."
He then goes and spend the next half hour absolutely rinsing George calling him Toto's runner boy and directly making the accusation that the move was a matter of George being told to target Lewis and do anything to ruin is race. All because he's dating y/n.
-
Lewis made it clear.
He also used her as a bit of a cushion for frustration, she woke up this morning and decided she wouldn't be getting out of bed, although he did apologise for the sex that was about as rough as it's ever been. It's not as if she didn't enjoy herself. But the man certainly knows how to leave her feeling the effects of his dick the following day.
Luckily her is more than happy to do everything for her, he kisses her constantly and just holds her in cuddles, orders room service, gives her all his attention.
"You're the best thing in my life, you know that?" Lewis whispers gently pushing her hair back.
"You're the best thing in my life too."
"So...as an apology for the weekend-"
"You don't have to apologise." Y/n states quickly than moving over to straddle him. "I always love having sex with you."
"Do you?"
"Are you really going to make me prove it?" Y/n laughs earning a quick chuckle.
"No. You are in a rest day. Same as me. I think we're both owed it."
"Lewis...did it hurt?"
She knows that any impact in an F1 car can make the body ache but she really wants to know that Lewis is ok.
"It always hurts a little. But that one wasn't the worst." Lewis smiles then pulling her down to kiss her lightly. "You're sweet to ask, baby."
"Well so long as we can cuddle for the rest of the day, I think we're both resting enough."
"Agreed."
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Congratulations!!
If you feel inspired by this combo and have time, could you write a ficlet using "I", 🍨, 🥰 or 😂, and 🔨?
Thank you!
(Apologies if you already got this ask--my device froze when I sent it the first time, so I don't know if it went through)
Thank you so much! 🥰I still remember your lovely comments on the mer-dude fic, so I hope you enjoy this little bonus! 🦕❤️🧜🏻‍♂️
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Of mates and mer-dudes
Words: 996
Rated: T
Tags: summer camp AU; mer!Steve; established relationship; flirting; sexual tension; fade to black
Notes: Set in the same universe as Just add water
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“Hammer.” 
“Hammer,” Eddie repeats dutifully. Dustin spends two or three seconds trying to drive the nail in with the object he's been handed, until he realizes it's a screwdriver. 
“Very funny. I said hammer.” 
“Apologies,” Eddie mutters, chucking the screwdriver back into the mess that is their toolbox with one hand and wiping his sunburnt forehead with the other. “I think we've been out here longer than is strictly healthy. How ‘bout we call it a day and head back to camp? It's almost dinner time.” 
Dustin scowls. The hair under his Thinking Cap is matted with sweat and he is red-faced and splotchy. An unavoidable side effect of working out on the secluded pier all afternoon. 
“We can't just stop now, it's almost done,” Dustin claims, gesturing at their rickety construction of wood and mesh - it’s supposed to be an oversized fish trap, even though Eddie thinks it’s turning out to be more of a funky modern art installation. “This'll work, I know it. This time, I'll prove that Lovie is real. All those past times, it got away too quickly, but if I could just-” 
“Jesus, kid,” Eddie groans. “You and your lake monster. You don't know when to give up, do you?” 
“Give up?” Dustin scoffs. “If Thomas Edison had given up, we'd still be lighting candles. If Homer Ahr had given up, we would've never walked on the moon. I sure as hell won't-?” 
“The fuck is Homer Ahr?” 
Dustin heaves a long-suffering sigh. 
“Only mission control's chief engineer, Eddie? Honestly, that's the kinda question I'd expect from Steve, not you. Where is he, by the way? I thought he wanted to help us.”
“No idea,” Eddie admits. “Lucky bastard.” 
Dustin draws a breath, probably to ask what he means, but Eddie is saved by the sound of the dinner bell floating over from the camp grounds. 
“Okay, you gremlin, off you go,” he says, pushing the kid towards the sound before another argument can break loose. “We can finish this tomorrow when we aren't dehydrated and grouchy.” 
Dustin grumbles. “What about you?”
Eddie waves him off. “Be there in a sec, lemme put away your shit first.” 
He starts picking up their scattered tools, throwing them back into the box. Only when he's sure that Dustin is well out of earshot does he collapse at the edge of the pier, naked feet dangling over the water's surface. 
“Man,” he says. “That kid, right?” 
There's a soft growl from behind him, and the barest of sloshing sounds, and a shadow falls over him. He only just manages to suck in a breath - knowing he'll need it - before a massive snout pushes between his shoulder blades and he goes plummeting into the lake. He’s dimly aware of the toolbox going down with him, and then the world vanishes in a whirl of bubbles.
He resurfaces to the feeling of arms wrapping around his waist and massive fins brushing his legs, and the sound of laughing voices - one human, one very much not so. He tries to glower at their owners, but actually needs a second to part the sopping curtain of his hair.  
“So fucking hilarious, you aquatic asshats. I thought I told you to quit doing that.” 
Lovie the lake creature just chirps merrily and dives back under again, splashing him with her fins as she goes. 
Steve shrugs. The motion makes tiny droplets of water run down his bare shoulders and collarbones, bringing out his freckles and moles and tiny, glittering scales. Eddie wants to lick them. He has long stopped worrying about what that says about him.
“Sorry. She just wants you in the water with us. She likes it when the flock is together.”
His smile is apologetic, but his tail curls around Eddie’s legs in the water, fins wrapping around the two of them possessively.
Because, see, here's the thing. Over the past year, Eddie has not only discovered that his infuriatingly pretty fellow camp counselor is a mermaid and the guardian of an ancient lake creature. He has also somehow managed to score said mer-dude as a boyfriend and been adopted into the lake creature's flock.  
“She never does that shit with Buckley,” he grouses, even though Steve’s words make something flutter in his chest. Steve's touch, also - hands on his hips, fins on his ankles. ��She's part of the flock, too, isn't she?” 
“Yeah…” Steve blushes, a delicious pink hue on wet, sun-tanned skin. Eddie wants to lick that, too. “But Robin isn't my…” 
He trails off into an unintelligible mumble after that. Eddie wrinkles his brow. 
“Your what? Come again, fish boy, I didn’t-” 
“My mate,” Steve blurts, and the fins on his hips flutter excitedly under Eddie’s fingers. “Robin isn’t my mate.” 
Eddie feels his mouth drop open. The water is unpleasantly cold against his flushed skin. 
“Wait,” he says when he finally remembers how to form words again. “Hold on a second. When did that happen?” 
Steve’s face is still scarlet, but his lips start twitching when he meets Eddie’s eyes. “That’s just the way she sees it. You can’t expect her to think in human standards. Now c’mon, we gotta get to dinner or the kids will wonder where-” 
“Oh, no!” Eddie interrupts him, mouth tugging into a stupid, wide grin of his own. “No, no, no, sweetheart. You don’t get to tell me that we’ve been mer-mated for God knows how long and never officially consummated that sacred connection. I’m gonna get a mer-divorce if you don’t-” 
“Oh God, shut up,” Steve groans, and kisses him. 
As he gets dragged off to their favorite little shore, well out of sight from the camp grounds, Eddie bids a brief mental farewell to the toolbox lying abandoned at the ground of the lake. He’ll have to make up some story about where it went when Dustin asks him, but that's a problem for later. 
For now, he’s got other things to think about. 
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ghouljams · 2 days
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Ranger Danger; It's only stalking if they can't see you.
NCR Ranger!Gaz follows his favorite Courier.
Most people out in the Mojave know better than to fuck with couriers. Everyone wants the mail, and no one wants to get blacklisted. You were hired because you were a good shot, and unafraid of the various perils that traversing the wasteland brings. Which is to say: You don't need an escort.
You've tried explaining it to Gaz, tried to make him understand it, but he insists on following you through your route. He's not bad company, but it makes folks nervous having a ranger watching them hand you packages. Honestly if he weren't so easy on the eyes you might have tried harder to lose him. As it stands you just manage to convince him to wait outside of eyesight while you do business. Recently he's started trying a different approach.
"All the way to New California," You clarify with a raised brow.
"All the way doll," Gaz grins, "Easiest package you'll have to deliver, I even defend myself."
You eye him with suspicion. It's a long way to go, an even longer way back. You suppose you could pick up some packages along the way... You shake your head. "Can't afford it," you tell him.
"I can pay," He reminds you, "got plenty of money."
"NCR bills," You click your tongue, "not worth the paper they're printed on."
"Good with my hands," He tries, "better with my mouth."
"Yeah, you're a real smooth talker," you roll your eyes, "Don't need a mechanic, and as previously mentioned I'm takin' care of myself just fine." You pat the pistol at your hip fondly, well oiled and ready for action. Gaz hums, there's something in his eyes that says he wants to correct you, wants to rebuke your assertion, or perhaps clarify his own. He holds his tongue.
He's good company, but not company you're willing to risk your hide over. You've never had anyone watching your back, and to be honest it can be a little unnerving at times. Knowing Gaz is stationed somewhere far off with a rifle trained on you while you pass off bullets to a raider camp doesn't stop your skin from crawling. Like you said, most folks know better than to try and stop the mail from running. Even the raiders that eye you a little too appreciatively, and open doors wider for others to give you the same once over. It's the warning shot that startles you more than the swift smack to your ass when you turn to leave. You're quick to scurry off before the raiders decide that was your idea.
Gaz finds you miles down the road and hours later. His boots are bloody. You don't ask.
His hands are clean, at least, when you hand him a gecko kabob from the fire. You sleep better that night with him on watch, and the distant knowledge that any ill will those raiders may have had is dead. It's good you're such a deeper sleeper with Gaz around. You don't know the pride it inspires, the deep seated warmth in his chest to see the gentle rise and fall of your breathing, to hold his hand by your lips and feel the soft puff.
Maybe it's a little strange, but when you're asleep is the only time he can truly speak freely. The only time he can lean back and palm his cock to the pretty picture you make. He likes looking at your face when he does it, likes to imagine what you'd do if you woke up and saw him. You have to be the densest person in the Mojave not to notice he's got you on a short leash.
He would have you on your back screaming his name. He'd have you drooling in the dirt. He'd have your sweet pussy dripping with his come every time you made a delivery. Maybe having his spend rolling down your thighs would stop you from getting ogled every time you knocked on a raider's door.
"Fuck you 'til you forgot your name," Gaz grunts, "don't need to love me to come on my cock." But it would be better if you did.
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confessioncassette · 11 hours
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The Belly of a Black Heart - Alastor x Reader
18+. minors do not interact.
thank you @lustylita for the inspiration of this fic. your mind is a beautiful place. everyone check out her art and her concept to this story here. all credits to her, this was not my idea.
If this world is wearing thin And you're thinking of escape I'll go anywhere with you Just wrap me up in chains But if you try to go alone Don't think I'll understand
part 1
summary : After an unsuspecting death, you end up in hell and at the Hazbin Hotel. You become dead set on redemption. Alastor's feelings towards you are confusing and it pisses him off more than he can handle. In result, unknowingly to him, his feelings manifest through his shadow.
tw : violence, slight gore. No smut
words : 3.4k
notes : this chapter is world building. this story will absolutely have smut and a little angst. no dark content this story. but minors dni.
-
Your feet are fast beneath you. The rain pelts your face and uncomfortably slithers down into the fabric of your clothes. 
But you keep running. In any other circumstance, you would say, at this moment, that you’re running because your life depends on it. 
But your life, quite literally, depends on it. 
Streetlights are a blur as you run down the empty street, pumping your arms higher and faster. Grinding your teeth and ignoring the way your lungs threaten to give out on you, you fight the urge to look back. 
Your body screams to stop. But the only thing you need to feel, the only thing that matters, is feeling that plastic bag within your palm. 
A faint groan falls past your lips as you try to keep up with your pace. Just a little farther, just a little faster and you’ll make it safe. Back to-
The roaring of an engine cuts through the downpour of rain. A bright light swerves over your form from behind you and grows bigger. 
Don’t look back, don’t look back. Keep going. For her. For her. For her.
The car revs up to you all too fast. A pained noise comes up through your throat as tears welt at your eyes, but you don’t stop. 
“Fuckin’ bitch!” A man screams at you through the open car window. 
Darting your eyes to the right graces you an opening. An alley. And before thinking twice, you throw your body down the path. 
You sprint down the cobblestone, careful not to catch your shoe on the uneven rock. It’s dark, and without the streetlights, you do the best you can to adjust. You’re caught between two tall buildings, the rain a little gentler now. Dodging between trash and dumpsters, you keep going. 
This won’t be how you die. 
But another building greets you at the end of this path. Catching your breath, you bring your hands to the stone and feel. Hoping, praying that there’s-
A ladder. 
Shoving the plastic bag into your pocket, you grip the cold steel of the ladder and begin to climb. 
All before rough hands forcefully grip your shoulders and throw you to the ground. 
You wail as your skull cracks over a skewed rock. 
“Thought you could outrun us, little bitch?” 
“Y’can’t just take what y’want without payin’, you fucking whore!” 
Three hooded men surround your body. Your eyes slide down to see a sharp object glistening in the faint light. 
Fight, flight, or freeze.
You’ve heard the term, but you’ve never been in a moment where you needed to think of what to do so quickly. You know damn well you’d be fucked if you didn’t try. If you fled, they’d find you. Hunt you down. They’d probably make your death last longer. You knew what you were dealing with, you’ve gotten what you needed plenty of times from them. Always a clean transaction. 
But stealing? This time? You knew what they were about. If you froze you’d stand no chance. Even if you knew them, they wouldn’t grant you mercy. 
Stabilizing yourself onto your palm, your other hand sheaths a knife you keep hidden in your sock. 
“Whoa! Deciding to be a big girl today?”
“Get the fuck back!” You don’t recognize your gavelled voice.
Swiping your knife at one man's belly catches him by surprise. And to your surprise, you got him good. Yelling out in pain, the man slumps forward and grips his stomach. Thankfully, this one wore a thin shirt under an open jacket.
“Jesus, fuck! Oh, y’done it now ya cunt.” 
Thrashing in their hold, kicking anywhere you could, biting, screaming, scratching - it’s done no good. 
One man is quick to put you in a headlock while the other lands blow after blow over your face. 
The world is fading. Your vision blurs with blood. Your mouth slacks open and becomes numb from the pain, like your body is giving you one last grace before you die. Through puffy eyelids, you lift your head the best you can before catching the eyes of the man before you. 
He steps close to your face, taking in your bloodied mess, and smiles menacingly before the blade of a cold knife slides over your throat. 
Nausea hits you quickly when you wake. Are you awake? Is this a dream? 
You hiss through gritted teeth as you roll your head to the side over… stone? You’re laying down… outside?
The sounds of screams finally filter through your ears all at once, like a radio was just turned up too loud and it rattles your bones. 
The…fuck? 
You rack your memory, shifting through everything you can remember from just before. It’s hazy, but you’re sure you blacked out. You throw your face into your hands, despite how your body protests any movement you give. And then like a freight train, it all hits you at once. 
Sprinting down an empty street through the rain, the baggie you desperately held… Three mens’ faces. The feeling of slicing through one’s stomach like it was butter, watching the blood splatter over the cobblestone with a sickening splash as his intestines threaten to spill. 
The look on the man's face as something cold touches your throat. The warmth that spilled down your body after that. 
You died. 
You’re fucking joking. 
Denial, panic, dread, anxiety - it all crashes into you at once. Your home, your bills, your job were the first things that came to mind. What about your family? What would they think? Your lifeless body flashes through your mind. 
What about my body? Will they hide me? Leave me there to rot? You’ve known in the past that they‘ve displayed bodies to others as a warning… but what will they do with yours? 
Oh god, what would your family think of how your body looked when you died? They’ll know you suffered. 
The pills.
Fuck the pills. Would they think you’re a druggie? Would they know- 
Her. 
Your body shakes as you blanch. You dry heave over the stone but nothing comes. 
What about her? How will she be able to-
“Well well well! Lookie what the mortal realm dragged here! Fresh meat.” A gravel voice comes from, you look up to see, a dumpster. 
“Oy, she’s fresh. Reeks of human.” The other agrees. 
Adjusting your eyes, you assess the place you’re in. You guess you haven’t even considered where you are… were you alive? The mortal realm? ….Human?
Your body aches as you rise to your feet, swaying as you stand fully. 
You shake your head, “what?” It comes out as a whisper. Not knowing if you’re speaking to yourself, into existence, or asking the men at the dumpster chain smoking cigarettes.
“Oy, poor thing don’t know where she’s at!” 
“Give her a second - Hey! Hey miss! What ya in for?” 
You take a moment to look… You’re standing in an alley. 
Funny. 
This alleyway is much shorter than the one you were just in. There's a group of men in suits smoking next to a dumpster, all dressed in slacked smiles and top hats. All very excited to hear what you have to say. 
No. Not men. 
Are you dreaming? You’ve gotta be. These men don’t look normal. Their bodies resemble sharks. Sharp teeth line their smile, bulbous noses… even tails. 
“I don’t know,” you say honestly. You don’t even feel like you’re in your own body. 
One shark-man-thing elbows another after a comment you don’t hear, “Oy, don’t fuck around, not her fault she don’t know, right there, doll face?” 
“Welcome to hell!” Another shark cackles out. 
Your vision tunnels. You really are dead. 
“So, sweetheart, ya gunna tell us what yer in for?”
Panic sets in and you're gone. Sprinting down the alley and into the vermillion streets of… hell. 
Never knowing that you’d sprint like your life depended on it again, you bob and weave between small red creatures with horns, tall gangly dark voids, monsters with falling flesh that expose their bones, prickly beings with multiple arms…
A dream. Wake up. 
You ran for miles. Hours, you’re sure of it. Satan himself must be laughing because you swear you didn't leave this one area even though you’ve been trying to escape for hours. You’ve passed the same towns, the same buildings, shops and landmarks multiple times now.
Your body refused to run any longer. Your legs feel like jelly and quiver with every step. You suppose it’s getting dark. You would never guess that ‘hell’ had a nighttime. Wasn’t it all flames and eternal suffering? These creatures here surely look like their suffering, but it wasn’t quite the image you’ve always pictured.
There were gift shops, libraries, tall business buildings, grocery stores, games, bars - a sinners paradise. Everything you could think of was right here. 
The smells of burning flesh and acid still pierced your senses and in some areas you’d find mutilated bodies, vomit and unknown fluids littering the streets… but in other areas, they were clean, the people friendly. 
This has got to be the workings of some fabricated bat-shit wild drugs your doctor gave you at the hospital. You’ll wake soon.
Dragging your feet along, the glow of multiple tv’s through a window catches your attention. 
Your eyes are heavy. Everything about you is heavy. So you stare into the oblivion for god knows how long of commercials, wild news stories and-
“Are you a way-ward sinner looking for redemption? Are you fresh from the cut and confused why you’re here?” A staticy transatlantic voice booms through the screens. A wave of interest gives you a second wind.
“Well come on down to the Hazbin Hotel!” The commercial shows a happy group standing in front of a hotel. The camera pans to one individual in particular, holding out her hands to the camera with a comforting smile. 
“I believe that you can change and find your way into heaven! Allow me and our staff to help you with your path to redemption!” The camera cuts to pictures of the inside. Beautiful wallpaper lined the walls, fresh new carpet, golden accents throughout, new bathrooms and a beautiful wooden bar… fresh new rooms with offensively comfortable beds. 
“After the most recent extermination, our hotel was destroyed. But! With a little help, we have re-built it bottom up. We have new additions as well! Come read in our extensive library, relax in our spa, come have a drink at our new and bigger bar. Come lay in bedrooms twice the size as the last one! And it’s all waiting for you here at the Hazbin Hotel!” 
The Hazbin Hotel… it sounds like just what you needed. A bed, some food, a drink and most importantly - a bed to sleep this dream off. 
Taking a once over the directions to the hotel listed on the screen, you begin your walk up to the highest point in hell. 
A damn is that a walk. With all the running you did all day, you’re lucky you were able to walk across town and up the hill to where a luxurious and brightly lit hotel stands tall. 
Taking in the beauty of it all and the grand entrance doors, you knock gently. 
It didn’t take long for the door to burst open and you're met with that same friendly face you saw in the commercial. 
“Hello there! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, where we can make your redemption become a reality! I am so happy you’re here!” The frantic woman takes your hand in hers, shaking it firmly. 
“Charlie, Charlie, I know you’re excited but-” A shorter woman appears behind her with long white hair and purple skin. Her eye meets yours as she offers a small smile. 
“I’m Vaggie, this is Charlie. Are you here to check-into the hotel?”
Bouncing up and down, the tall blond balls her fists together in excitement. 
“I’m Charlie Morningstar! The owner of this hotel! And you are?”
You smile, giving her your name before she squeals in excitement. 
“If you’d have me, I’d like to check in.” You say. 
“Ohmygoodness this is great! Come on, we will give you a tour!” With a sigh from Vaggie, Charlie gently takes your hand and leads you inside. 
Surprisingly, a clean scent hits you as you walk through the threshold. It’s warm and inviting, unlike most of the places you ventured to today. Golden lanterns light up the lobby beautifully, the marble of the floor shines brightly beneath the ambiance. 
“This is our lobby, where we check-in guests like you!” 
A beautiful golden double ended staircase lined with red carpet stands tall at the end of the lobby. Elevators line the hallways behind it, to the right is a common area with luxurious furniture, fully equipped with that same mahogany bar you saw on the commercial. 
“It’s… beautiful.” You sigh and under your breath you continue, “Too bad it’s just a dream.”
You notice that the shoulders on both women beside you fall. Charlie chuckles nervously, “What do you mean it’s a dream?”
You shrug. “I mean, isn’t this all a dream? I pass out and I wake up… here,” you gesture to the beautiful lobby. “I’m sure I’ll wake up soon, but I never imagined that I could conjure up a place like this.” 
Charlie fiddles with her fingers and opens her mouth to respond, but it’s Vaggie who steps forward. 
“Did you say that you ‘passed out and woke up here?’” You nod, head still spinning around to take it all in. The ceilings are high and painted with beautiful artwork, expressing all colors that you haven’t really seen much outside in this dream. 
Vaggie is hesitant before she continues. 
“I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but this isn’t a dream. You’ve died and ended up in hell.” Her hand on your shoulder is gentle. 
You cock your head to face her. You want to laugh. You want to smile it off. Of course they would say that, doesn’t everyone in dreams tell you that? But the expression she carries is genuine and there’s this tension in the air. 
And you feel that spiral all over again. Your heart rate quickens and it’s difficult to swallow, your mouth is so dry… you shake your head. 
“Ah! What do we have here, Charlotte?” 
That familiar transatlantic accent courses through the room as smooth as you’ve heard once before. 
“She’s just arrived!” Charlie clears her throat, blanketing the tension with her upbeat sing-song voice. 
“I thought I could smell something… fresh. What do they call you, sweetheart?” He hums.
Peering up, you’re met with a tall man dressed in a red suit. His hands rest over a cane as his gaze peers down at you. A wicked smile paints his face as his ears stand proudly atop his head. 
You give him your name, offering him a small smile and in response, the man cocks his head to the side, ears tilting inwards as he does. 
“A lovely name. I’m Alastor, it is quite a pleasure to meet you.” Your eyes scan his face and that beautiful smile. His eyes are a deep red and his features sharp. You let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding. 
His vermillion stare is heavy as he offers a hand. You take it hesitantly and to your surprise, he is far more gentle than Charlie’s initial greeting. His thumb swipes over your knuckles as his eyes drink your entire being in. 
“Charlie, I think I’ll take care of the rest.” 
Vaggie cuts in, “I don’t think so. Not a good idea to be alon-” 
Alastor’s head cracks in the direction of her. The slightest flicker of lights is barely noticeable in the lobby. 
“It’s okay, Vaggie. It’s late anyways! We will spend all day with her tomorrow. Oh! I have so many ideas on exercises and breakfast and lunch and-” 
“Yes, we do.” Vaggie’s hand rests over the blonde’s then her attention turns to you. “Just… be careful. Alastor will show you to your room when you’re done. We will see you in the morning.”
The girls bid you goodnight and the lobby feels strangely empty without them here. 
You’re left with Alastor, who you don’t know his role here yet, who’s stare is unwavering ever since he’s met you. 
“Right this way, dear.” The metal of his cane gently guides you through the halls as he continues the tour Charlie set off. 
The man is eerily quiet through the tour. With his arms folded behind his back, he would take you to each floor and show you all the things this place has to offer. 
The stare he gives burns on your skin, but you do your best to ignore. You’re not in any state to question right now. Especially as to why he walks so close, why he brushes up against you when opening doors for you and why he’s failed to focus on anything other than your frazzled state. 
The hotel is beautiful. Full of everything anyone could ever want. A library, a spa, a gym, a bar, formal dining room, common rooms, fully equipped kitchen. This place has it all, and you’re welcome here? Everything this hotel has, is for you to gain redemption and go to heaven?
The thought of heaven crosses your mind. You mull it over. Heaven would be nice to spend eternity but… Why? Why weren’t you chosen to go to heaven and ended up here? 
But this sense of dread fills you deep in your core. You’ve died. Did they already find your body? How much time has passed on earth?
“Is it not up to your standards, little doe?” Alastor’s voice chimes in, lifting an eyebrow. 
Pushing away the thought, you shake your head. “No, no, that’s not it at all. This place is beautiful. I’m just,” you sigh, shoulders slumping inward. 
“It’ll take time.” You don’t notice the way his hand twitches. 
“I don’t even know why I am here.” Your footsteps are muffled by the lush carpet as you pass the hotel rooms. 
“Some don’t understand why they’re here when they first arrive. I’m sure a bath and some rest will help.” Stopping in front of a mahogany door, Alastor steps close to you. The tips of his shoes almost touch yours. The wisps of his hair curl under his chin as he looks down to you. His curious expression was only a flash, as it was replaced with a casual grin, but it didn’t go unnoticed. Your line of sight rests at the base of his chest, his scent of whiskey and soap fill your senses. 
A hand grazes over your waist, his face brushes over your cheek as he leans forward to open the door. His warmth radiates into you, but only for a fleeting moment- 
“And here we are, my dear. Your very own living quarters!” Spinning you around quickly, your eyes fall on the large room that you can now call yours. 
A king bed plush with pillows and a soft comforter. A desk, a closet, a couch and lounge chair set that sit perfectly in front of a golden fireplace. In the back - a large bathroom with a claw foot tub and stand up shower. 
You gasp at it all. 
“Mine?” You turn to Alastor standing tall at the doorway. The light from behind him outcasts his features that are facing you. His presence is strong and you’ve noticed that the moment you met. His stance always unwavering, his movements calculated. Something pulls beneath your chest, a nagging feeling that there’s more beneath the aloof surface. 
“All yours, little doe.”
He watches you silently before he continues. 
“My radio studio is the door directly to your left and my room is just across the hall. If you need anything, I am close.” 
“Thank you, Alastor.” You smile at him. A genuine smile. And it feels like the first one in a while. Things don’t feel so grim after all. You could really make this work. Your chest flutters with hope.
Hell, you’ll even give redemption a shot. 
Alastor hesitates. Keeping his gaze over yours as you stand in the middle of your room. You can’t see any of his features, but his eyes burn through yours. The deep red forces its way through the darkness, and you can’t quite pinpoint the emotion that lays there. 
“Until tomorrow, goodnight.” And before you could wish the same, he is gone and your door is already closed.
With a hot shower to scrub away the day, you crawl into bed. Sleep manifests faster than you think. Guess you didn’t realize how tired you were. And before you know it, you're comfortably slumped and drifting into peaceful sleep. 
You didn’t even realize the shadow that slithers under your door. 
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cherrycola27 · 1 day
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Red Wine, Fall into me
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Warnings: Language, Alcohol consumption, Smut. 18+ (Phoenix x Female Reader) banner by the wonderful @thedroneranger Fic inspired by the Chappell Roan song "Red Wine Supernova"
...........................................
You know they say not to waste a Friday night on a first date.
Yet, here you were, in a nice dress, walking into a cocktail bar, to meet some guy, from some app, on a Friday night for a first date. You'd spent a ridiculous amount of time doing your hair, makeup, and picking out the perfect outfit that was the right balance of "I'm a good girl," and "I just might let you take me home if you play your cards right."
You texted your date that you were there and that you'd be at the bar. You were there a few minutes before your agreed upon time, so you walked up to the bar top, which had a middle-aged couple at one end, and a pretty dark-haired brunette at the other.
You took a seat a few stools down from her and ordered a glass of merlot from the bartender. He sat it down quickly in front of you as you checked your phone to see if your date had responded to your text. You felt immediately defeated to see that it still had not been read.
A few minutes ticked by, and it was now the time you and your date had set to meet. You fired off another text asking if he was there, with no response. Several minutes later, you sent one asking if he was on his way and nothing. Finally, a full thirty minutes and a second glass of wine later, he sent you a message saying that something came up, and he wouldn't make it.
You huffed as you sat your phone down on the counter and groaned. Of course, this would happen to you. This was the last time you agreed to a date from an app.
You sighed and finished the last sip of wine in your glass and rummaged through your purse for your card. Before you could pull it out, though, you heard a soft voice speak. "Put her last two on my tab, and bring us another round if you don't mind."
You look up and see the pretty brunette from earlier handing her card over and taking a seat next to you. "Thank you, but you don't have to do that." You smile at her. "I know, but I want to." She smiles back at you, extending her hand for you to shake, "I'm Natasha, by the way. What's your name?"
You tell her your name, and she repeats it back, slowly, savoring every syllable of it like it's a fine wine. You don't think your name has ever sounded as good as it does coming out of her mouth.
"So, what's a pretty little thing like you doing here all alone?" She asks you. "I was supposed to have a date but—he stood me up." You sigh. "His loss is my gain then." Natasha says as she brings her own wine glass up to her lips. You blush at her words.
"What about you?" You fire back at her. "I just wanted a nice quiet night out, away from the crowds. Somewhere that I could relax and make a new—friend." She winks at you and slides her stool closer to yours.
"So, tell me about yourself." She says, and she rests her foot on the bottom of your stool. Your thighs part just enough to accommodate her toned leg that's exposed from the slit in her dress.
A shiver runs down your spine as you tell her about your job and some of your friends and what you like to do for fun. Her eyes stayed glued to yours, and she nods and questions and seems genuinely interested in you. "What about you?" You ask her when you finish.
"I'm in the Navy. I'm an aviator." She says as if it's the most casual thing in the world.
"Oh. So I guess you're used to going fast and doing what you want then." You smirk at her. "I can go fast." She says as she leans into your space. "But—" she sighs as she places her hand on your thigh. "—I actually have a partner in the backseat that I have to listen to, so I'm very good at taking directions. And, there are so many controls in the cockpit, that I have to be excellent with precision." She breathes out.
Natasha leans in closer to you. "I've always been amazing and zeroing in on my target and finishing the job. She whispers in your ear before pulling back. You swallow thickly and shift in your seat, unable to ignore the wetness pooling between your thighs and the heat that you feel in your belly that isn't from the wine.
"Is that so?" You say, cocking your head to the side. "Now, what exactly would one have to do if they want to see these skills in action?" You pry. "I think after a few glasses of wine and a dance or two, I might be convinced. Care to find out?" A crimson smile curls at her lips as she extends her hand to you.
You nod your head and slip your hand in hers. She places her palm on the small of your back, just a tad too low to be considered decent as she guides you to the dance floor. She presses closer to you to avoid the other people already there. You can smell her perfume. Floral and spicy with a hint of sweet. It is so intoxicating that it makes your head spin more than any glass of wine ever could.
Natasha drags you directly to the middle of the dance floor amongst all the other couples. She spins you around and presses your back to her front. There is absolutely no space between the two of you, and you can feel every soft curve of her body pressed against yours.
You sway to the beat of some song you don't know as her hands skim up and down your arms before resting on your hips. She pulls your hair over one of your shoulders and rests her chin on your newly exposed skin. You shiver as she places a gentle, fleeting kiss on your shoulder. You feel the blush in your cheeks spread all over your body.
"You okay there, pretty girl?" Natasha asks you. "Y—yeah." You stammer out. "Just a little warm is all."
"Why don't we go get some air." She whispers hotly in your ear. Her breathy voice has you weak in the knees. You nod your head in agreement, unable to trust your own voice.
It's quieter outside. So quiet you can hear your heartbeat racing in your ears as the two of you make your way to a secluded spot on the far side of the deck. The fresh salty air fills your lungs as you try to take a deep breath to calm yourself. You lean against the deck railing and watch the waves roll in as the moonlight dances across the dark ocean.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Natasha says as she comes to stand beside you. "It's breathtaking." You say as you turn to face her. "It's not the only breathtaking thing out here." She says, looking you directly in the eye. "No, it's not." You counter.
You inhale deeply as she takes a step forward and places on and on your hip, drawing you closer to her. She uses her free hand to brush a few stray strands of your hair away before cupping your face and pulling you closer to her.
Her lips are pillowy soft when they connect with yours. Her hand slides to the back of your hair, tangling in your locks to hold you in place. You wrap both of your arms around her neck as she trails her tonuge across the seam of your lips, asking for permission to deepen the kiss.
You gladly grant her access, and you moan as her tongue caresses yours. The kiss is sweet, with the last drops of your wine still on each other's mouths.
You moan and lean into her when you feel her fingers dig into your hip. She takes a step closer and pushes your back against the metal deck rail, her lips never leaving yours as her kisses become more hungry, more demanding.
She pulls her mouth away from yours, and you gasp as she trails her perfect pout across your chin and jaw before grazing your ear lobe with her teeth. You inhale sharply, and it's like music to Natasha's ears.
She continues her assault, trying to draw even more new sounds from you. Her lips skim over the sensitive flesh of your neck. You find yourself arching towards her, silently begging her for more. You feel her smile against you before she carefully grazes her teeth over the sensitive flesh before pulling back and laving it with her tongue. She repeats the action and your hand tangles in her dark strands, holding her in place. She chuckles and continues to work the space between your shoulder and ear, surely leaving a few dark marks behind, but you don't care. You want her to mark you up—claim you as hers.
You draw her mouth back to yours and kiss her until you're breathless. She pulls back and her lips are swollen, and her cheeks are red.
"I don't normally do this, y'know." You confess to her.
"Neither do I." She tells you truthfully.
You heave a sigh of relief. "I don't think I've ever done this, actually. But there's something about you that's—magical." You say as you bite down on your lower lip and bat your eyes at her.
"If you think I'm magic here, you should let me take you home. I've got a wand and a rabbit that I can show you all kinds of tricks with." She smirks at you.
................
A few minutes later, the two of you are in the back of an Uber going to Natasha's place. Her hand rests brazenly on your upper thigh, and her nimble fingers are tracing deft patterns across your skin. You squim in your seat, trying to keep yourself calm, when really, all you want to do is plant yourself in her lap and kiss her again.
The two of you somehow make it up the small path that leads to her front door. She unlocks it and pulls you in. Once the door is shut and she's clicked the lock, she pushes you up against it and kisses you roughly. You meet her kisses with passion. Both sets of your hands roam over each other, desperately.
Natasha has enough sense to practically drag you into her bedroom. You stand there a little awkwardly until she comes up behind you and slowly unzips you dress. Her lips trace your spine, leaving faint, wine colored kisses from her leftover lipstick on your flesh.
The garment drops to the floor, and you turn around to face her. She admires how your nipples are peaked and perky with anticipation. The scrap of lace, that could barely be called underwear, that you chose to wear tonight has an obvious dark spot on it. "Such a shame you date didn't get to see this." Natasha breathes out as she lightly grazes the front of it.
You shiver, and she lets out a breathy laugh. You reach for her, catching her wrist and pulling her to you. Your hands reach for her zipper. "Fair is fair." You mumble against her lips as she lets you pull it down before tugging the fabric off of her.
"Lay dow for me, pretty girl." Natasha says when she's kicked her dress to the side and shimmied out of her underwear. You take a moment to take in her form as you slip if your own panties.
Her dark hair falls gracefully over her shoulders. Her breasts are perky and lovely. She has a neatly shaved landing strip that draws your eyes to where you most want to be.
You lay back on her bed, making yourself comfortable on her pillows. Your breathing is shallow as her eyes rake over you.
"You're so fucking beautiful." She says as she crawls towards you. Beautiful. Not pretty, not hot, beautiful. You love how she talks about you. How she makes you feel seen.
"Thank you." You say before you can even think about it. She laughs as she reaches into her nightstand and pulls out the wand and rabbit that she mentioned earlier.
She sets them to the side before gently straddling your hips. She leans down to kiss you. Slowly, this time, it's more deliberate and precise. The two of you let your hands roam over each other's body. She tweaks your nipples, rolling them between her fingers and your arch toward her touch.
Not to be outdone, you wrap your lips around one of her peaks, and she lets out a gorgeous breathy moan that has your heart racing. She whines when you release the flesh with a soft pop but groans and leans into you when you repeat the action on the other. She subtly grinds her hips against you, seeking friction to relieve the ache between her thighs. You grab her thighs and help guide her, and she hums before stopping and sliding off of you.
"Mmm, not yet beautiful. There will be time for that. Let me take care of you first." She smiles at you. You huff a little, but don't protest. Natasha trails her lips across your breasts and chest and down your stomach. She circles her tongue around your navel before placing a kiss on your cunt, right about your clit.
You sigh as you sink deeper into her pillows, inhaling more of her intoxicating scent from earlier. She carefully parts your thighs and slots herself between them.
She grabs your left leg, and feathers kisses up from your knee towards your center and back down, a few times before switching to the right. She's taking her time building you up. And just when you think you are going to burst from her teasing, she places a fleeting kiss on your clit. You squeal and rock your hips upward, chasing her mouth.
She does it again, gently parting your folds with the delicate tip of her tongue, circling the sensitive bud and sucking it into her mouth.
She laps at your core, drinking in the taste of you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Wanton moans leave your mouth, and your chest heaves. One of your hands tightly fists her sheets, the other curling on her hair to hold her right where you want her. You squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back as pure ecstacy washes over you when you cum.
Natasha works you through it until you push her head away. You lean up on your elbows and meet her eyes. She has a satisfied grin on her face. "How was that?" She asks almost cockily.
"Fantastic." You reply breathlessly. "I'm not done with you yet." She tells you as she reaches for her wand. You swallow and spread your legs for her.
She turns it on a low setting and starts by rubbing it over your nipples and down your body to get you used to the sensation. Slowly, she lowers it to your clit. You jump, still sensitive from your first orgasm, but you relax as she circles it around you bundle of nerves.
You feel one of her slender fingers circle around your entrance. "So fucking wet. All this for me, pretty girl?" She asks you. "Yes." You breathe out. You're jilted by a smack to your cunt. "Say my name, pretty girl. Tell me who's got you like this? Who got your pretty pussy absolutely dripping?" She commands.
"You—you did, Natasha. It's all for you." You babble out. She's satisfied with your answer and rewards you by sinking not one, but two of her long digits inside you and curling them upwards. You cry out her name as she finds your gspot impossibly fast. It should be a crime at how well she already knows your body as she strokes it with the perfect amount of speed and pressure.
She gages each sound you make and adjusts the wand on your clit and her fingers in your cunt. You have to give it to her, she wasn't lying when she said she could take directions.
Your head thrashes from side to side, and you're babbling out her name as she brings you closer to a second orgasm. Your toes curl against the mattress and you bite your bottom lip in an effort to keep your sounds at bay.
Natasha immediately tells you to be loud for her, and you're too for gone, and she has you so damn pliant that you'd do anything for her right now. So you release your lip and scream her name as you cum, gripping her fingers tightly, never wanting them to leave you.
When she does pull them out, you whine at the loss of contact, but it's short lived, because Natasha is crawling up your body and tapping her fingers on your lips.
You obediently open your mouth and close them around her digits, dutifully cleaning them for her. You groan at the taste of you on her hands. Once you've cleaned her, you pull off with a pop and kiss her. Your tongues meld together as you pull her onto of you.
You cradle her head and hook your legs around her waist and flip her under you. "Mine turn." You giggled as she looks up at you, bewildered. "Okay, then." She smiles down at you.
You cup each of her breasts in your hands and roll her nipples between your fingers. She lets out a small gasp as you kiss the tops of her breasts and the valley between them before continuing your journey south. You leave wet kisses across her hip bones and suck a dark mark into her right one, a little reminder of you for later.
You don't tease her like she teased you. You're too impatient. You've been dreaming about what she tasted like ever since you watched her bring that first glass of red wine to her lips this evening.
You tenderly part of folds before licking a long, broad stripe from her opening to her clit.
Natasha arches up off the bed, her hands flying to the sheets, clutching them for dear life. You repeated the motion over again before hooking one of her thighs over your shoulder. She's much more squirmy than you expected.
You work her over and over, tongue diving into her her sopping wet opening, nose bumping her clit.
She cries out your name, fingers in your hair, as you blindly reach for her other toy from earlier. You silently cheer as your hand wraps around her rabbit vibrator.
You turn it on and pull your mouth away from her. Natasha groans at the loss of contact but whimpers when she feels the tip of the vibe at her entrance. You push it in slowly until it is fully seated in her tight, wet, perfect cut.
She lets out a shaky breath as you slowly withdraw the toy and push it back it. You repeat the motion, picking up speed with each thrust. Soon, her hips are meeting it, and the sounds of lewd, wet fucking mixed with cries of your name are bouncing off her walls.
"Guess you had a few tricks up your sleeve, too." She laughs and rolls on top of you and sits up she slides down your body until you can feel her warm pussy right above yours.
Her walls grip the toy tightly, and her voice rises in pitch as she cums hard for you, back arching so hard that you're afraid she might hurt herself. "Fucking magical," you praise her as she comes down from her high. You slide up beside her on the bed. She's panting, trying to catch her breath.
"Think you have one more in you, pretty girl?" She asks you. "Yes, ma'am." You reply. She smiles at you before drawing you up to her lips.
She kisses you tenderly, rocking your hips together, creating a delicious friction between your clits. Your previous orgasms have both of you so wet, that you glide along each other with ease.
Your fingers dig into her thighs as you help guide her, pulling her tighter against you. You feel that familiar coil curling deep into your belly, and your head drops to her shoulder as you roll your hips to meet hers.
Natasha wraps a hand around your throat and draws you back to her. There is a glassy look of pleasure in her eyes, but she squeezes just enough to let you know that she's still in charge. "Cum with me." It's not a request, it's a demand, and who are you to deny her when she's making you feel so good?
You cum together. It's hard and messy and absolutely the most amazing feeling you've ever had. You collapse on the bed, and Natasha falls into you, both utterly spent.
Sometime later, when you can both feel your legs, the two of you make your way to the shower. After cleaning each other, you help her change the sheets, and the two of you get tangled in each other's arms and fall asleep.
..............
Six weeks later, you're slipping your hand into Natasha's as you follow her into the Hard Deck on a Friday night. This time, you're not meeting some guy from some app that you deleted ages ago. Instead, your girlfriend is introducing you to her coworkers.
You had already met Bob, her backseater, a few weeks ago because he insisted on meeting you because Nat, or Phoenix as she was known to her friends, couldn't stop talking about you.
Natasha quickly got the two of you a beer before weaving through the crowd to a pool table in the corner.
She takes her time introducing you to each one of them. You smile and wave and try not to be awkward.
"Well, what do we have here? If it ain't Phoenix." A male voice draws out. You turn, and you have to bite your lip to stifle a laugh. "Bagman." Natasha replies flatly. "Always a pleasure, Nix, but what I want to know is who is your friend?" The tall blonde asks.
"This is my girlfriend, jackass, so don't get any ideas." Nat says. "Babe, this is—"
"Jake. Right?" You say cutting her off. "Yeah? How did you know that?" She looks at you with a questioning glance. Jake looks at you equally, confused, trying to decide if you're familiar or not.
"Remember my date that stood me up a few weeks ago, the night we met?" You ask her.
"No. You're kidding." Nat smiles before belting out a laugh. Suddenly Jake's eyes go wide as he connects the dots on who you are.
"Son of a bitch, Bagman, I think I owe you a drink." Nat laughs as you and her other friends join in. Jake's cheeks burn with embarrassment.
Nat wipes a stray tear from her cheek. "But seriously, Jake. Thank you for being a dick. If you hadn't stood her up, I might not have met this amazing woman. Seriously, I owe you one." Natasha smiles at him before pulling you in for a kiss.
............
Eeeekkk! I hope yall enjoyed this! This was my first time writing for Nat! Let me know what you think with a comment or reblog!
Tagging those who might be interested: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @desert-fern @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @beyondthesefourwalls @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @horseshoegirl @djs8891 @roosters-girl @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @mshistorylover @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @inkandarsenic @mak-32 @jiminie-08 @dingochef @laracrofted @skipchat @princess76179 @schoollover @cheyrenee @angelbabyyy99 @bobfloydsbabe @sunlightmurdock @sebsxphia @atarmychick007 @queenlmno @sweetwhispersofchaos @mamaskillerqueen @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @withahappyrefrain
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writing-for-life · 3 days
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Dream's Therapist
I’m not sure if I should apologise for this brain fart in advance, but it just found its way to the page after this. Yes, this is how my brain works (or rather doesn’t)…
Intake Session
The client presented for his intake session on 22/04. When he made his appointment, he showed particular interest in the fact that this is an integrative therapy practice which uses cognitive, behavioural, somatic and Jungian approaches and is also versed in sex therapy. Naturally the ethical kind.
He was extremely on time (that is to say, close to three hours early), but he insisted on spending that time in the waiting area instead of coming back later. My receptionist assured me he did not move from the offered chair during that time and that he, in fact, did not move at all. She occasionally had to check (inconspicuously of course) if he was breathing.
Upon entering my office, he was polite if slightly aloof. He was dressed all black and refused to take off his coat. No problems with personal hygiene could be perceived from a distance. After getting seated, he enquired whether I could dim the lights ever so slightly because it was too bright, to which I agreed.
I noticed his staring at the crystal paperweight on my table for an extended period of time before he, seemingly out of nowhere, asked: “I trust your office is a mere illusion, a fleeting moment in existence?”
DT: Something like that I guess. What brings you here?
Dream: Well, I have these recurring nightmares. Not while I am sleeping, since I obviously don’t sleep.
DT: Obviously.
Dream: I create them.
DT: The nightmares?
Dream: Yes. And all of a sudden, they all suffer from… existential dread instead of helping to get rid of it. Also, my hair keeps getting tangled and knotted all the time, but I am not quite… certain if this relates in any way.
DT: Interesting. And how does that make you feel?
Dream (deadpan): Feel? I don't “feel”. I weave narratives, conjure nightmares, and occasionally attend celestial tea parties. Emotions are for mortals. The hair is inconvenient though.
DT: Right. Let's explore your childhood. Did you have any issues with your family?
Dream (I notice uneasy shifting in his seat): My family? My father, always running late. My mother… (I notice a slight tremble in his bottom lip)… well, she is… dark. My sister, Death, tells me I am a buzzkill, especially at family gatherings. Truthfully, I believe all my siblings are just trying to gaslight me into believing so because I can be… quite entertaining? (I notice uncertainty). Plus, one of them is… let's just say: they are the reason I have commitment issues.
DT: Commitment issues. Let’s expand on that a bit. Have you ever been in love?
Dream: (I notice extreme rigidity): Love is a quaint human invention, like gluten-free pizza or reality TV.
DT (I don’t know what that means and ignore it): I sense reluctance around the topic?
(He stares at the paperweight for a good 3 minutes)
Okay, let's try word association. I'll say a word, and you respond with the first thing that comes to mind. Ready?
Dream: Proceed, mortal.
DT: Sand.
Dream (I notice a raised eyebrow and a slightly tetchy sigh): Golden grain sifting through my fingers.
DT: Pillow.
Dream: A convenient weapon during astral battles.
DT (I momentarily feel confused and lose my footing, to which he reacts with)
Dream: I could show you? (I notice he makes a move to get up from his seat)
DT: That won’t be necessary right now… Word association: Unicorn.
Dream: (I notice grave seriousness) My ex-wife. I think.
DT: That should suffice for now. Let’s briefly discuss coping mechanisms. How do you handle stress?
Dream: Stress? When the universe unravels and the fabric of the Dreaming tears, I binge-watch reality shows. The Kardashians, mostly.
DT: Why the Kardashians?
Dream: Distraction. Inspiration. For all manner of things. Mostly nightmares.
DT (I notice the recurring theme of nightmares): Do you hold any hopes or dreams for the future?
Dream (I notice a nervous twitch around his mouth which he tries to hide unsuccessfully): I am the King of Dreams. Dreams shape reality itself. But if you must know, I dream of a world where everyone flosses regularly and understands general relativity.
DT: Why is flossing important?
Dream: I just like good teeth.
DT: Why general relativity?
Dream: Because it would help. With ships.
DT: What ships?
Dream (I notice eye-rolling and bridge-of-nose-pinching): Never mind.
DT: It’s okay, we can talk about anything that seems important to you.
Dream: It is of no import. Is time up yet?
DT: No.
Dream: Good, I shall leave then.
DT (I feel confused but try not to show it and respect the client’s wish to leave. I’m getting paid either way): Same time next week?
Dream (who is already standing): Time is a mere construct. But yes, let us pencil it in. And remember, reality is just a draft…
Further notes: The client suffers from insomnia and thinks he creates nightmares. He potentially has internalised he is one. He seems detached from his feelings to the point he believes he does not have any emotions and does not seem to relate to being human. He feels misunderstood by his whole family and suffers from the delusion that his sister is Death. He makes another of his siblings responsible for his failed relationships, which has led to the ingrained belief that love is not for him. He seems to compensate with believing he is above others and refers to himself as the “King of Dreams”. I notice a tendency to shirk potentially painful topics. He seems to communicate diminished interest or pleasure in all, or almost all, activities apart from binge-watching TV, but he seems quite enamoured with the concept of astral battles and general relativity, which requires further exploration…
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nanakiwii · 8 hours
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STARDEW VALLEY HANNIGRAM???
What the actual-?!
Really????
The voices won.
I regret nothing.
---------
Prison was boring.
Being locked up, as Hannibal expected, was all about routine and schedule. You wake up, eat, shower and shit when they tell you to. Good behavior was the key to bring back some of his old life pleasures: books and music, for example, were some of those achievements he earned.
But, Hannibal sensed he still needed something, or, someone to fill this void he called existence. After three years of isolation and intense silence, Hannibal couldn't help but to dig in every interaction he shared with his beloved.
In the time while they were apart, Will - somehow - managed to get engaged and marry a faceless woman and, as much as it hurt Hannibal, he couldn't deny he was happy to see Will as desperate as himself to try to easy the pain of their distance.
The lack of human contact didn't do great to his temperament and Hannibal knew we was becoming more "sassy" as days passed. He was bored. The bliss of the attention he received by the media was gone for ages. He found every assumption of his "diagnose" wrong and very dumb. "If this is the proof of human brightness, then we're destined to live in darkness" he thought.
It was this boredom that made him poke Alana Bloom until he discovered a way to taunt Will and to end his sickening loneliness.
Stardew Valley.
Apparently, it was farming game he could play with friends and family. And who was Will if not a friend and part of his family? Well, Hannibal guessed he had to find a way to play this exquisite video game with his precious Will.
---------
~ Inspired by this horrendous comic I drew on the printscreen brush tool a long time ago while I was sleep deprived and very very bored.
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Text:
Will: "What is this game about?"
Hannibal: "I suppose it's a farm game, Will."
Will: "And, why you wanna play with me?"
Hannibal: "Well, Alana commented about it, and I'm curious."
Will: "I don't believe you."
Hannibal: "Come on, Will. I'm locked and bored. Help me out."
Will: "Fine."
Later...
Will *behind a computer screen*: "I still don't know how you manage to have those things."
Hannibal *also behind a computer screen*: "I'm a very behaved prisoner."
Will: "..."
Will: "No, look, let's just play."
[Stardew Valley home screen]
Hannibal: "Soo much hair options."
Will: "Shut up."
Hannibal: "What do I put on 'favorite thing?'"
Hannibal: "Such a hard question!"
Will: "I wrote 'dogs'"
Hannibal: "Yeah, I suppose you did."
Will: "You want me to ask, don't you?"
Hannibal: "Ask what?"
Will: "What did you write?"
Hannibal: "Oh, hoho... You would be surprised."
Will: "If you say 'pork' I'll kill you."
Hannibal: "Then, you better pick a knife."
Will: "Fuck you and your cannibal jokes, Hannibal!"
Hannibal: "Me and my jokes."
[Hannibal's character building screen:
Name: Hannibal M.D
Farm Name: Hospital
Favorite Thing: Will Graham ]
End.
AGAIN: SORRY ABOUT THE MAJOR GRAMMAR AND ENGLISH ERRORS. I WAS HALF ASLEEP HALF ALIVE AND I NEEDED SOME CRACK FIC TO KEEP GOING!
I wanted to post it somewhere because I keep laughing alone about what I made and wanted to share with other people.
The art is shit, but someday I'll make something better (I probably won't. Will I?)
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ghostoffuturespast · 1 month
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For the longest time, I always thought I wanted to be an artist.
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bitegore · 8 months
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Genuinely fucking batshit how some people will act as though the bare minimum level of care + respect for the people around them with different problems is like, an insurmountable fucking bar
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dcndrohime · 4 months
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🎉🎉🎉🎉 Happy New Year 🎉🎉🎉🎉
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theheadlessgroom · 1 year
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https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/710019365046763520/theheadlessgroom-beatingheart-bride
@beatingheart-bride
“​I don’t think it’s silly at all,” he smiled, delighted to know that she had enjoyed the show (even if it was simply the orchestra) as much as he had, as well as admiring her desire to see what he and the rest of the audience saw during a performance. “It’s wonderful to watch-I-I would enjoy watching an opera with you, were we ever afforded that chance.”
What with her being the leading lady now (and would hopefully be the leading lady in many, many productions to come; he had a feeling her future as the opera’s star was within reach), the opportunity for both Randall and Emily to sit down and watch a show together seemed not quite in the cards at the moment (not unless Emily could be in two places at once), but he still liked to imagine that, someday, she would be afforded that chance. Under what circumstances he did not know, but it was a day he liked to think was possible.
And what a day that would be! The two of them, seated in Box Five together, watching and enjoying the show in their own private box in their evening best...perhaps he would see about getting them some fancy chocolates to enjoy during the show, or something to drink (he wasn’t a fan of any of the alcohols available in the café; he’d tasted a few out of curiosity and decided very quickly that they were not for him, instead favoring sparkling, non-alcoholic ciders and the like instead)…she would have the best seat in the house, and he would have the best company...
(He wished most of all, however, that Emily could see what he saw on opening night, when she made her grand debut: He wished he could see how magical she would be onstage, how she would wow the audience with her beautiful voice and emotional performance...she could see how amazing she really, truly was, how gifted she was as a performer!)
“What opera would you most like to see?” Randall asked her curiously, brows raising in interest behind the mask.
#((you make a great point; and i agree! i don't think that randall would be nearly as enamored as he is here))#((were he to have a normal; more stable upbringing; but i also feel like he'd still be very keen on music))#((enough to want to pursue a career in it-i see wilhelm as being fairly musical himself; as he plays the harpsichord))#((and so it just gets me thinking about that fondness for music rubbing off on randall and inspiring him! it might not be the same passion))#((as he has here in this 'verse but i feel like; in a kinder world; he'd still love music; enough to seek out the opera))#((and meet emily as a result!))#((as for his face...i'm not sure! obviously june and wilhelm would work hard to make randall feel confident in himself))#((and not let anyone get him down because of how he looks; but i could see him wearing something when out in public))#((maybe some sort of prosthetics a'la that one-shot we did; where he devised a makeup/prosthetics to wear))#((so that he could go out with emily and the twins? i'm just spitballin' but maybe that'd be his workaround!))#((and true; it is kinda funny! but honestly emily will ALWAYS bring out the pace's parental sides; regardless of how old she is))#((or what she is! vampire? yup! siren? yup!))#((...actually now i'm thinking about little emily meeting little randall at gracey manor when june was working there))#((and june feeling just as maternal towards her as she does towards dorian!))#((don't know if that's an au we would ever do but it just popped into my head and i just imagine little randall being smitten))#((with little emily; just the way little dorian is smitten with little elizabeth!))#outofhatboxes#beatingheart-bride#V:Phantasm of the Mansion
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noxtivagus · 1 year
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evening has come again huh
#🌙.vent#i'm really sorry for the vents lately but i need a way to let it out. & this. this is as far as i can go with that#i need to do better again i know i can i have to :') people waiting for me. others n me....#last night i downloaded a game for my friend. for her. & then another friend i told her i'll reply before the day ends :< 'take your time'#she said but sob she opened up abt smth n i wna help i really do & fuck it just hurts too bcs i know the ppl around me are. struggling too#i try not to put others b4 myself if i'm struggling like rn but :< i hate the helplessness. wish i cld do smth more for you#i wish i could at least be enough to help them. for you for you whoever you are i would always be willing to make these sacrifices#i'm gna cry it's been so overwhelming lately bcs i'm filled with so much hope and despair simultaneously#what do i do? which do i choose? how do i decide? how am i supposed to do. enough. find a balance#n then other friends i haven't gotten to replying yet today bcs oh i'm too worn down right now n i hate it so much i'm sorry#& other than all the stuff i want to do for myself and for others there's also things like school n#it hurts you know? i'm very much aware i've been worrying my family lately. i can't. sleep properly. i can't bring myself to finish eating#:< n then it also gets overwhelming when i. look to better things. bcs it gen makes me v happy when. idk i feel inspired or creative or wtv#but it hurts when it's also simultaneously so overwhelming bcs it's so hard to do something with it#& thinking of good memories. how fleeting those moments were. how times have changed. but also of. of how more may come#but maybe. maybe only if i'm better. if i'm not this hollow husk of my usual self? fuck i know i'm too harsh on myself. unnecessary pressur#i'm more than it i know. but at times it's just so hard to feel better when i'm. 🥹 i really really don't want to be a disappointment.#for others n. for myself.... bcs i know as always in the future. wtf the fuck happens then. i do know that parts of me will never change.#wnvr i look into my past i'll always know that i deserved being more kind to myself. bcs i'm human too.#this empty feeling of being stuck somewhere being hope n my despair hurts v much bcs it's so contradicting & overwhelming#n i wish in these moments i cld be enough for my future self. n for those around me#i wish i was better at communicating! tell everyone i know how much i appreciate them! how much i wish they'd stay in my life#i wish i cld really just say but i'm afraid that my honesty might scare you away. so instead i hide. you probably don't feel the same nyway#crying it hurts i think past experiences have made me too used to people leaving. but i can't be vulnerable enough to be#soft enough to the extent of being so honest. i've been hurt before when i was kind n younger n naive sure but oh so innocent#struggling sad n it was so bad then that i. oh i remember how it hurt.... i refuse to let myself go through that extent of loneliness again#i wish though that. i could. revive my mind. my motivation my inspo my creativity hasn't exactly dulled but it's become more passive#am i afraid that if i really be myself then i'll be alone again? if i'm weird if i'm too honest n soft n. i don't know.#it hurts feeling like i'm stuck with being too little n too much at the same time. how do i. just be. enough. for you. for me.#it hurts i'm crying i'm sorry i'm so sorry fuck i'm so overwhelmed n lost i don't want to think right now it feels so empty n i'm tired
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ampleappleamble · 2 months
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haven't seen this on here yet so:
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in case you don't want to slog through the shitscape that is the bird/letter website, take a peek beneath the cut (shamelessly copied from the something awful forums dungeon meshi thread)
- Her first memory of video games was watching her father playing Wizardry on Famicom, also Dragon Quest, Ultima, and Fire Emblem among others.
- She was a difficult child so her parents didn't let her play. Wizardry is a boring game to watch, but the monster illustrations on the walkthrough evoked her imagination and made her keep watching.
- She only started becoming a serious gamer after the serialization of Dungeon Meshi was locked, for research purposes. Before that, she read fantasy novels such as The Neverending Story (Michael Ende) and The Lord of the Rings (JRR Tolkien).
- The international title for Dungeon Meshi: Delicious in Dungeons was decided by her editor.
- D&D popped up a lot when she researched the history of video games, so she read the rule books, replay novels, and games inspired by D&D.
- One of the first games she studied was the Legend of Grimrock (game's 80% off on Steam atm). Originally, she wanted Dungeon Master (FTL Games) which was famous for "RPG with meals" but hunting down the game and machine was too much.
- She didn't like games other than turn-based RPGs at first, but she decided to stop being picky and play anything that piqued her interest.
- She played Zelda: BotW and TotK on a borrowed Switch from her editor due to the console's scarcity at the time.
- She enjoyed Red Dead Redemption 2 and God of War for their stories. RDR2's incredible attention to detail had Kui engrossed so much that she asked her editor and other mangaka to play it so she could discuss it with them.
- Kui praised The Witcher 3 localization as something only possible with full support from the developer. Cyberpunk 2077 is one of her all-time favorites.
- Papers, Please was her first taste of indie games.
- Disco Elysium is the perfect game for her due to the lack of fighting, intriguing story, charming character interaction, and top-down perspective. She tried playing it in English at first due to an unlikely chance for JP loc, but it was out of her ability. Thus she is forever grateful to Spike Chunsoft for localizing it.
- Kui played Baldur's Gate 3 from the time it was in Early Access. Again, she's grateful for Spike Chunsoft's JP loc. She hoped BG3's success would bring the possibility of JP loc for other titles too, such as Pathfinder: wotr
- She likes games with top-down perspective because they have narration text for monologues and scenery description. Even if the graphic is lacking, the texts show the atmosphere and each character's behavior and psyche. Also, characters that react to your choices.
- She praised Unpacking and House Flipper for being able to tell what kind of person lives there only through their belongings, and that there's no right or wrong for the placements; she would make the best arrangement and then enjoy her hard work while sipping tea.
- The biggest inspiration for Dungeon Meshi was the Cosmic Forge pen from Wizardry VI. With improved graphics from its predecessor, now it could show broken farming tools in the background and many more details that made exploration so much fun.
- At the time of the interview (Dec '23) she still hadn't watched DunMeshi anime, but she attended the recording sessions. She's embarrassed that the dialog she wrote now acted passionately by professionals. Marcille's screaming was wonderful but also made her want to flee.
- Kui was anxious about the CP2077 anime adaptation, but she was relieved it was the Night City she knows and loves.
- Other than minor adjustments, she left it to TRIGGER as to how to adapt
- She's happy that Mitsuda Yasunori was chosen as the anime composer, as she used to play Chrono Cross and rewatched the opening many times.
- Her anticipated games in 2024 are Cloudpunk, Nivalis, and Avowed.
- DunMeshi would be hard to adapt into a game because in the first place, what Kui depicted in the manga are parts that are omitted in games for the sake of brevity.
- If DunMeshi game was Wizardry-like, it'd be told through Laios' perspective and eating was essential not to die
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writingouthere · 4 months
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neighbor!Sukuna x single mom!reader; your ceiling is leaking at 3 in the morning and you don't know what to do so you go ask for help from the man across the hallway(inspired by real life events that were not nearly so charming).
no need to have read the others in the series but can be read as a week or two after the aquarium date.
cw: Sukuna being a menace
Sukuna had always been a light sleeper so when there were knocks on his door at 3am, he was up instantly. The knocks weren't even loud but he found himself annoyed enough to stomp to the door. If he wasn't sleeping, the people below him didn't need to be either.
He yanked his door open, prepared to make whoever it was regret every moment of their existence but it was you, holding your daughter and clearly on the verge of tears.
You seemed contrite when you saw his expression but before you could even start to apologize, he was slipping on his boots and grabbing his key.
"What's wrong," he asked.
"It-it's the ceiling, I woke up and it was leaking water. It's getting everywhere and I don't know what to do and the landlord isn't picking up."
Sukuna rubbed your arm, trying to give you some comfort and you relaxed a little.
"Okay, let me come take a look. I can call the super, he's probably more likely to answer than the landlord." You nodded and he followed you back to your place. Holding his hand out to stop you at the door as he made to go in first.
Sukuna heard the water pouring in before he saw it. He had never been in your apartment before. It was clear that a woman there. There was color everywhere, more blankets than made sense for two people and the walls were covered in photos and artwork. It felt soft, it reminded him of you. And now, it was being ruined by water raining down from the ceiling.
"Why don't you wait in my apartment. You both look like you could use some rest. I'll sort this out," he said, handing over his key. You looked ready to protest but then your daughter started crying.
"Go, I got it."
You looked so relieved and he wiped away a few tears from your daughter's face and pressed a kiss to her forehead which helped bring the tears down to a more tolerable snuffling.
"Thank you so much, I don't even-"
"Don't worry about it. You two just go settle in the guest room and I'll wake you up when it's settled."
You smiled at him and you seemed to hesitate before you went up on your toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
Sukuna couldn't stop himself from grinning as you took your daughter out the door and towards his apartment. He turned around to look at the mess that was your apartment. It looked like a pipe must have burst in the apartment above yours. Annoying, but a quick fix when caught this early. He grabbed his phone, opening it to call the super before a thought came to him that just wouldn't leave.
It would be a shame if you had to terminate your lease because of unsafe conditions, after all you must still have a good six months left on it. He knew you didn't have any family in the area and it would be a lot for a working mom with a kid as young as yours to go apartment hunting all the sudden.
Of course, he did have that guest room. Plenty of space for the three of you and it wouldn't be hard to bring over the stuff you needed while you looked. His apartment was bigger than yours, even though it was just him.
Even if it was a tight fit, his lease was up at the end of the year anyway. You could always get a bigger space, one for your soon to be growing family.
Sukuna pocketed his phone and took a seat at your dining table, away from the water. He figured it would only take another hour before the damage passed the point of no return.
He hoped you and your daughter were resting well in your new home.
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marvelouslizzie · 8 months
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Same Lonely Night
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summary: Your roommate Bucky Barnes hears you pleasure yourself and moan something he never thought he would be into. That forces him to face his feelings for you.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
word count: 2.6K
warnings: 18+, masturbation, fantasies, daddy kink, no mention of y/n
A/N: This is the second part of A Lonely Night. This time we are seeing Bucky's POV and what comes next. You don't have to read that part to understand what's going on but if you want to, you can find it on my blog/masterlist. I planned this as a 3-part story and I hope I'll maintain my inspiration and motivation to write the last part. Wish me luck!
Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. You are the best!
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.
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Bucky’s head is resting on the shower wall while the water is running down. His flesh hand is still wrapped around his cock, but he doesn’t move it. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he’s trying to calm himself down. 
He really had no intention to listen to you. He was just watching the news mindlessly, but his enhanced hearing turned into a curse the moment he heard you taking a sharp breath. He couldn’t help but focus on the noises you made. That’s when he started to hear the way you were touching yourself. Every stroke, every rub, every muffled moan… 
He knew what you were doing was private and he had no right listening to it, but he couldn’t stop. He just couldn’t. How could he? You were so needy and subby. Even in your fantasy, you were begging. He wondered what you were imagining. Who were you begging? Your crush? Maybe you have been seeing someone.
That thought had never occurred to him before. You were always in your element, working, chilling at home, doing whatever you enjoyed in your spare time, and occasionally going out with your friends. You never brought someone home. Not yet at least. So he never questioned if you were seeing someone or not. Even if there was someone, he wouldn’t know, and that thought suddenly hurts him.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your moans bring him back to reality. If you are seeing someone why are you so needy? Are you just that greedy or has it been that long? He’s certainly hoping for the latter. That’s something he can relate to, and it's probably been much longer for him. That’s why he can’t stop listening. That’s why his cock is painfully hard. Normally he would just remove himself from the house, and give you some space instead of creeping like this.
“Oh please, fuck me.” He would do anything to be able to do that. Anything. Just to be in that room with you, taking his time exploring your body and satisfying your needs. Even just the thought of it drives him crazy. “Fuck me, daddy, please.” 
That surprises him on so many levels. He never thought you would be into that. You look pretty innocent. He wouldn’t assume you would have such dirty fantasies. Fucking an old man… Are you into older men or is it just a little fantasy you are playing? Maybe you are seeing someone old. Maybe that’s why your mind goes there. He doesn’t know. He has no idea what’s going on in your private life, and every word that comes out of your mouth confuses him even more. It creates more problems, but the biggest one is, when he heard daddy, his dick twitched with excitement. So it makes him question himself, too. Is he into younger women or is it because you were the one saying it? The latter somehow seems more likely. Yet all of that doesn’t change the fact that he’s listening to you and getting hard just because of it. 
“Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” He hears how your head falls onto the pillow while your whole body is shaking, and how much you are enjoying it. He knows this is his cue. He should just remove himself from the living room so he won’t get caught with a hard-on. He doesn’t miss a beat. Quickly, he turns the TV off and runs to the bathroom. 
That’s how he ended up here, head pressed against the cold shower tiles, thinking about the way you said daddy over and over again. He is trying really hard not to give in, but his cock is aching with need. A part of him thinks he should just give in. It’s not such a big deal. Everyone masturbates. You just did. Three fucking times! That thought makes him groan. If you can come three times just by masturbating,how many times could he make you come? 
So it’s not even a conscious decision when he starts to stroke himself when he starts thinking about making you come. He can’t stop himself from imagining how you would look under him or on top of him. It doesn’t matter which position. He just wants to feel you. Your moans are echoing in his head while he caresses the top of cock. Just one stroke and it makes him tremble. He can’t remember the last time he felt this turned on. He can’t remember the last time his whole body heated up like this, just at the thought of someone. But you aren’t just anybody. You are you.
Maybe it’s because it has been ages since he had sex. Perhaps it’s because of his growing crush on you. He tried to control those feelings, thinking he was too old for you. He thought you would never look in his direction. Why would you? You are intelligent, beautiful and so cute. Like all these qualities aren’t enough, you are always so thoughtful. You always ask if he wants your leftovers, or if he needs help with anything. He knows he wakes you up at night sometimes. His nightmares are loud, but you never complained. Not once. You always let him watch the news even though you would rather watch something else. You even lent some books to him. They were in such good condition he couldn't believe his eyes. It was like reading a brand-new book. So yeah, he really tried to act like it was nothing but a silly crush, but after hearing the way you moan daddy he can’t stop himself anymore. It was as if you awakened something inside him.
He doesn’t know what to do. Should he take his time or just get over with it? He keeps his fingers loose, stroking himself up and down slowly while his head still rests on the tiles. Even with minimal effort, it feels so good. He gently cups his balls, massaging them and imagining you are the one doing it. You are the one touching the most intimate parts of his body. You are the one ready to satisfy his growing need.
“Oh fuck.” A moan escapes his lips. The shower is running and you don’t have a super hearing like him, so he knows he’s safe. Still, it feels like it’s something he shouldn’t be doing. He shouldn’t be touching himself. He shouldn’t be moaning like this, yet you are so beautiful and needy… He already wanted you before hearing how you sound in bed, but now he wants you even more. He wants to be the one to bring you pleasure. He wants to be the one that satisfies all your needs so much that you would never need to touch yourself. Unless it’s to tease him.
He’s feeling guilty. So fucking guilty, but there’s no way he could stop now. Imagining you does something to him. There’s this primal need in his abdomen, building up.
His fingers tighten around his cock, moving faster than before, and he presses his lips together, trying not to make a sound. He keeps rubbing on that one sensitive part of his cock and finally, he starts coming with a choke. He keeps stroking himself, thinking it will be over soon, but it doesn’t end. There’s so much come that it surprises him. His hands continue pumping and his come paints the bathroom tiles immediately. He takes a deep breath when he’s done, trying to collect himself.
It feels like his head is spinning. He had been masturbating for quite some time, but he doesn’t remember the last time it felt this good. He opens his eyes, trying to ground himself, and all that shame he feels comes rushing in while looking at the mess he made. He groans loudly and then reaches for the showerhead. It doesn’t take long for him to clean the shower and then himself with the thought of you is still on the back of his mind. He is soaping himself, scrubbing, and then rinsing while trying to convince himself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just masturbation. It’s normal.
Of course, he knows how normal it is. It’s like breathing, eating, or drinking water. His body needs it so he gave in, but listening to you and touching himself while thinking about you… That’s where he crossed the line. He knows it, yet he can’t bring himself to wish he never heard you. He might be a creep or a pervert, it doesn’t matter. Your voice, the way you sound while coming, and the way you touch yourself are stacked in his memory forever. It’s something no one can take away from him.
Sighing, he steps out of the shower. Drying himself doesn’t take too long. When he steps into the living room, all that welcomes him is silence. You are still in your bedroom, God knows doing what. The TV is off, and nothing seems to have moved since he ran to the bathroom. So he’s safe. You haven’t heard or suspected anything.
Quietly, he goes back to his room, finds something to put on and just looks in the mirror. Is he really too old for you or is that all in his mind? He doesn’t look older than 35, but that doesn’t change when he was born.
What if you are into that, though? What if you really like older guys? That would change everything, wouldn’t it? You would like that he’s older than you. Maybe you would even call him daddy, just like you did in your fantasy. That thought makes the blood rush back to his cock, making him feel the arousal running through his veins once again. Like he didn’t masturbate in the shower a couple of minutes ago. 
He knows his anatomy by now. He knows he’s able to get hard again pretty quickly thanks to the super soldier serum, but he hasn’t been this horny for a long time. Especially not because of the thought of someone, but the thought of you calling him daddy… 
Jesus… It makes him so hard!
Sighing, he drops his whole weight on the bed and closes his eyes, fighting the urge to touch himself again. It’s for the best if he stops thinking about you and focuses on something else, isn’t it? He tries to think of something, anything that could take his mind off of you, but nothing, absolutely nothing is more interesting. Nothing he tries to focus on lasts. His mind goes running back to you, imagining how you would look the moment he would push himself inside you. How your mouth would open, how you would throw your head back, and how wonderful it would feel.
That thought does it. It breaks his resistance. All the effort he put into not touching himself again goes out of the window, especially once he imagines you saying “Harder, please, daddy, I need it harder.” His hand goes under his boxers, slowly toying with his cock. It feels like he didn’t touch himself today, and the need is even stronger now. After a couple of strokes, he realizes he can’t move his hand properly like this, so he pushes down his shorts and boxers at the same, creating some space for movement. 
He looks down at his cock, already oozing with precum. His flesh hand moves on top of the head and smears it all the way down, making it easier for him to play with himself. He sets a steady rhythm, testing what feels right, but his precum isn’t enough to make it enjoyable. That’s when he reaches for his nightstand and takes out the bottle of lube. His metal hand works fast, opening the bottle and putting a generous amount on hisnhand, before he puts it back and starts to touch himself. 
Now it feels much better. His hand works seamlessly from the top to the bottom, repeating the same movement a couple of times. He tries to get lost in his fantasies but something feels off. He isn’t sure what it is because what he’s doing is enjoyable. Something is not enough. Maybe he should work faster. So that’s what he tries. His hand starts to move faster on his cock, but that’s not helping. 
He’s pretty sure this is what his body wants especially because he’s still rock hard. Should he be more gentle and take his sweet time? That doesn’t seem to work, either. Does he need a tighter grip? Maybe, but he can’t do more with his flesh hand. He glances at his metal hand for the first time since he started. He never used it to pleasure himself before. The flesh looked and seemed more appealing than metal, yet right now it’s not enough.
There’s a first time for everything.
He reaches for the lube once again. This time he uses his flesh hand and pours some on his metal one as he tries to convince himself that this is not a bad idea.
He goes right back into touching himself, just with his metal hand this time. It feels different, really different, and surprisingly okay. It doesn’t feel as warm. The texture is completely different yet it somehow works. His fingers start to work faster, his thumb brushing over the head and, thanks to the lube, it starts to feel much better than he ever expected. His reluctance slowly fades away and he decides to test how fast he can move his metal hand and how much his cock can actually take it. As he paces up, pleasure starts to build so unexpectedly. He takes a deep breath but keeps moving his hand. His head is now thrown back while with the flesh hand, he cups his balls, gently massaging them.
“Oh god…”
He doesn’t realize that he's just said that out loud. He just keeps working on himself, letting his whole body relax under that pleasure. He really didn’t intend to focus on you this time, but here you are again, in his mind. The image of you on top of him… You with all your charm and cuteness, touching him, making him feel this good while he takes your nipples into his mouth and sucks them until you can’t take it anymore. It drives you crazy, so you beg him to fuck you. Just like you begged while touching yourself.
“Please, please, please… I really need it, please…”
He can hear it so clearly like you are here and really begging him. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make that really happen.
“Anything you want, doll.”
His fingers move like they have a mind of their own. He knows he should slow down a little, make this one last a bit longer because it feels amazing, but his metal hand isn’t listening to him.
“Oh fuck, fuck.” 
He knows he’s about to come. He can feel it. It’s right there, just a few strokes away. He loses his damn mind imagining you under him, split open, and getting railed by him. God, that would feel so fucking good! You looking at him with those big beautiful eyes and begging him for more… Then your name slips out of his lips like it’s the most natural thing to say at that moment. 
Right when he’s about to come, a loud noise comes from the living room. Like something has just got shattered into pieces. His eyes fly open. He grabs his shorts and puts them on quickly, tucking his freaking erection away, and opens his door to see you standing there with an oversized T-shirt on. The glass you were probably holding is on the ground, but you don’t seem to care about that. You are looking at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.
Shit! She heard me.
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