#Thank you so much for your fantastic ideas
Note
As the head writer for Clangen, I'm absolutely blown away by the story you've used the game to inspire. You're a fantastic writer, and the legends of your cats will live on within the patrols of the forest biome, told by the cats with the storyteller and lore skills.
fst_train_risingclangift_storylorelocked1,
fst_bord_risingclanref_allies_lorelocked1,
fst_bord_risingclanref_neutral_lorelocked1,
and the many biome and seasonal clones of thyme_risingclanref_storylorehealerlocked1 are all gifts for you, thank you so much for the wonderful tale you're weaving. Maybe I should make another myth about the battle! These skill-locked patrols are now in dev, and should be in the main game in the next release. <3 <3 <3
I AM SCREAMING
WHAT OH MY GOD THANK YOU I AM SO HONORED???? I've seen you in my notes but i had no idea! I'm gonna cry wtf?!
The one about mental illness is so special to me (they all are, oh my god) i cant believe my silly little blog managed to make an impact on the game I love so much <3 Thank you thank you thank you from the bottom of my heart
#not art#asks and answers#tiritirimatangi#Clangen#clangen game#Aldertail#Scorchplume#im screaming irl like out loud this is so amazing im going to die
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Ikesen Boys React to a Tattooed MC pt 4
Thank you again to @otomedad for this fantastic idea ^_^ This one has Mitsuhide, Keiji, and Ieyasu! Approx. 2600 words of tattoo and MC appreciation!
Mitsuhide
Mitsuhide’s smile was infuriating. You wipe the sweat from your forehead and stretch your aching muscles. After five hours of practice, you were tired, your hair was a tangled mess, and your clothes looked even worse. And Akechi was just standing there, grinning, not a single hair out of place.
“That was much better, little mouse. Almost passable.” His grin widens. “In another week or two, you might be able to fend off, say, a small rabbit? Perhaps a squirrel?”
You throw a sweat-damp rag at him, which he dodges easily.
Mitsuhide’s eyebrows arch. “What’s this? Another match? I could never deny my little one.”
“W-wai-ahhhh!” You hold up a hand to stop him, only for him to grab your hand and send you up and over his shoulder. He holds you there, your head flopping against his upper back, legs kicking uselessly in the air.
“Hmm. I think you’ve lost this round. You don’t seem to be able to get down.”
You seriously consider biting him, but there’s no easy spot to clamp down on. Besides, he’d probably just -
“If you bite me, I will return the favor.” You hear the laughter in his voice, and feel his breath on your leg.
“Put me down!”
Mitsuhide does laugh then, a low, wicked chuckle that sends feelings skittering through your frayed nerve endings. “I don’t think I want to, though. You’ll have to convince me.”
You struggle some more, trying to grab hold of him so you can leverage your grip to wriggle out of his. It’s impossible not to be aware of the flex of his muscle, covered by thin linen. The way he holds you, gentle, but implacable. Your pulse is racing and your face is red from more than exertion. I’m just embarrassed, you think, knowing that’s not quite true.
With some effort, you manage to grasp his clothes firmly enough to pull yourself down, but you feel the loose folds of your hakama slide away from your hips as you do. You freeze, held by the terrible image of Mitsuhide carrying a pantless you, your rear in the air, legs kicking.
“It seems my little mouse has only further ensnared herself.”
The low, smooth tone of his voice sends a little shiver over the newly bare skin of your hip, and you fancy that you can feel his hair tickling that sensitive spot. “You - I - this - this is your fault!” It’s hard to think, and you wonder if he’s distracting you on purpose. Teasing, as always.
Mitsuhide chuckles, the laugh more something you can feel than hear. “But however will you escape? Perhaps you could persuade -” He pauses, holding very still.
“Ummm. Pretty please? Put me down?” You stop squirming, hopeful this means he’s done with his current game.
Instead, he shifts his grip on you, and you feel a cool, calloused finger drag against your hip.
The unexpected touch, featherlight, sends a jolt of heat through you, and you bite back a pleased sigh. There is no way you’re letting Akechi get to you. Nope. No. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing his taunting touch got to you this time. “Mitsuhide -”
“You have been marked. What is this, my naughty little mouse?”
For a moment, you have no idea what he means and then you realize. He must have glimpsed your tattoo. Your face, already hot, grows hotter still. This was something you hoped to keep to yourself. Especially given . . .
You feel his fingers catch the waist of your hakama and pull it a little further down. “Wait! Stop!”
Mitsuhide pauses, though now you can feel the cool air and his warm breath teasing your low hip. “This is no irezumi kei.” His voice has changed, the teasing replaced by strained curiosity.
“I told you I’m from the future. People have all kinds of tattoos there.” You hope he hasn’t realized what the design is. Please, please, you think, if there is any goodness in the world, he won’t see enough to -
“Little one. This is a -” His voice is so low you don’t catch the end of his sentence.
You let out a breath, realizing there’s no escaping it now. “Look. I got that a long time ago. It was supposed to be the first part of a full leg sleeve.”
He sets you down gently, his hands lingering at your sides. His eyes are molten gold, and you find it hard to look away. “May I see it?”
It is tempting to tell him no. To return some of the frustration you feel with his obtuse answers, his hot and cold behavior. But you find that you want to show him. Afterall, who else would appreciate this particular design more? You carefully tug your hakama down to display your hip and upper thigh. There, etched in bright colors is a nine-tail fox. The kitsune leaps from cloud a cloud toward a flower that looks like a cloud - or perhaps it’s a cloud that looks like a flower - and below that, the first hint of a river that was meant to tie the leg sleeve together.
Mitsuhide’s smile widens and he kneels to get a closer look.
“Go ahead,” you sigh. “Say what you’re going to say.”
His breath is warm against your skin as he leans close, his hand not quite touching. He stares into the soulful eyes of the inked kitsune, one fox to another, as if it might hold answers for him. When he looks up at you, your heart stutters in your chest. “You somehow manage to surprise me still, little one.”
You aren’t sure what to say, and honestly, you feel as if you can barely breathe much less speak. It’s not just Mitsuhide’s closeness, or even your vulnerability in this position. It is the expression that haunts his eyes, a flicker of something hopeful, something raw beneath his usual smiling mask.
“Why did you choose this? This . . . unworthy trickster?” His voice is almost inaudible, as if he too is having trouble breathing.
“Unworthy?” Your eyes go wide. “Kitsune are wise. Tricksters, yeah, but that just means they didn’t lose their sense of humor. They are noble and cunning and they pursue knowledge, even when it’s forbidden, and - and I wanted to be all those things too.” You fall silent, wondering why his comment upset you so much.
Mitsuhide stares at you, his brows arched high, his lips parted. Then he laughs, a paper thin, breathy sound that rises to a low chuckle. “Truly you are something . . . else.” He stands gracefully, his gaze still on your face.
“You too,” you mutter and turn away, busying your hands with fixing your clothes. It isn’t fair how he always tangles your feelings, you think. Looking at you like that, his voice, his eyes, his touch.
“Your tattoo is lovely. As lovely as you are.” He brushes a hand down your arm, a tender gesture.
You freeze, butterflies filling your chest. His compliment means so much to you, but you don’t know what to say in return. Your throat feels parched and tight. After a shaky breath, you look up, determined to ask him why he teases you so, but he is already moving away, his back to you, the moment gone.
Keiji
“Sometimes I don’t know why I bother,” you murmur to yourself. The subject and cause of your annoyance crouches a few steps away, all but ignoring you, his gaze turned toward the street just beyond the mouth of this narrow alley. You think you might prefer his silence to his commentary.
He turns his head slightly to regard you, and you have the uncanny sense that he heard your whispered complaint. Chagrined, you offer him an apologetic smile, which earns you an eyeroll and a smirk.
You do your best to ignore his reaction, but you can’t help the flush of embarrassment in your cheeks, or the way his regard makes your pulse pound.
A few short minutes later, he gestures you forward as he steps out into the clear street ahead. You follow, a nervous energy in your steps. In fact, you are so nervous that your feet tangle mid-step.
Keiji catches you before you hit the ground, his warm arms pulling you up in an unexpected embrace. “Careful,” he admonishes you sharply, but you see the genuine concern in his gaze.
“Thanks.” You pull away, self conscious and even more embarrassed now. At this rate, Keiji will never ask you along to anymore of his clandestine missions. You try not to meet his gaze again as you straighten your clothes.
He reaches out, grabbing your hand before you manage to tug your sleeve back into place. “Is that - are you - princess . . .” The sharpness in his tone melts into surprise as he pulls your sleeve back up.
“Ehehe, umm . . . it’s a tattoo?” The inked lines of three noh masks stare back at the two of you. “I did costuming for theater and I, I liked these designs.” You end on a defiant note, practically daring Keiji to say something snarky.
Surprisingly, he says nothing, just strokes your marked skin with the rough pad of his thumb. The touch sends a pleasant shiver through you, which you hope he doesn’t notice.
“So . . . can I have my arm back,” you venture after a few awkward moments.
Keiji nods, but doesn’t let go of you. “Do you know what these mean?” His voice sounds distant, soft and surprisingly tender.
You nod. “I . . . yes.” Your gaze follows his thumb to the three faces. I got Zō because I feel like she represents the best in women. Divinity and beauty. Wisdom. And then, Namanari because hell hath no fury, right? Holding onto anger makes me a demon. So she’s kind of a warning for me to let it go, but also, like, a reminder that it’s ok to be angry too.”
“And Rōjo?” He looks up, his warm amber eyes meeting yours.
“To remind me that getting older is ok too.” You shrug uncomfortably, feeling oddly exposed by the confession.
Keiji studies you, tension in his shoulders and jaw. “It’s nice. Your tattoo.”
Your eyes widen a little at the compliment. “You know you don’t have to fake things around me,” you tell him, half hoping he means it and half sure he doesn’t.
“I said I like it, ok? It’s pretty.” He frowns, a little crease forming between his eyebrows.
For some reason, the all too familiar expression of disapproval combined with the kind words sends little butterflies spinning through your tummy, and makes your heart do a funny little flip in your chest. He has no right to look so cute, you think. Or to say such nice things while his thumb makes little circles on the inner side of your arm. “Th-thanks.”
One eyebrow lifts slightly along with the corners of his lips. “You’re blushing.”
You jerk your arm away, trying to get ahold of your galloping heart. “I am not!”
He laughs, a sound free of nega-Keiji’s bitterness, one full of a sudden, intoxicating joy.
This does nothing to help you rein in your reaction, but you find yourself joining in the laughter with him. “Come on, let’s just go meet your contacts,” you say through your giggles.
“Yeah. That’s right.” He smiles and you feel another flush of heat in your cheeks. One that only grows as he reaches for your hand.
Ieyasu
“Hold still.” Ieyasu’s crisp tone brooks no disobedience.
You stop squirming and take a deep breath. “Sorry,” you mumble. “It just hurts.”
A faint smile curls the edges of his mouth. “Yes, well, tumbling down a gravel path usually does. You should be more careful. At this rate, I’ll have to accompany you everywhere just to ensure you don’t hurt yourself.”
You feel a goofy happiness at the gentle expression on his face as he says it, though his tone stays sharp. “I’m not that clumsy,” you argue. “I don’t need babysitting.”
“The evidence leaves that very much in doubt.” Ieyasu tugs your kimono aside, revealing your hip and thigh. There is an angry red patch of skin where the gravel scraped you badly, and his eyes flick over the wound with concern. Then his gaze travels up and you notice his brows rise.
“What? What is it?” You start to move again and stop as he rests a hand on you.
Ieyasu frowns, his fingertip tapping just above your injury. “You have a mark. Like a painting but -” He drags his finger over the ink of your tattoo.
“Oh, that.” You laugh self-consciously. You hadn’t been thinking about the tattoo at all - especially not after your spectacularly embarrassing accident that morning. Tripping over a rock and sliding halfway down a gravel and sand path while out walking with Hideyoshi. And to make matters worse, he’d insisted on carrying you to see Ieyasu for treatment. Thankfully, he hadn’t stayed. You could easily imagine his disapproving expression. Probably more so than the face Ieyasu was making now.
“Yes. That.” He leaned closer to your leg, studying the colorful image there. “It looks like an octopus. Holding a flower?” Ieyasu’s voice has lost some it’s usual coldness, thawing to an unexpected warmth with curiosity.
You feel another little flutter in your chest and tell yourself to calm down. “It’s supposed to be Akkorokamui holding an anemone. I got it after my parents passed away.” The memory of your intense grief is enough to make you pause. It’s been so many years since you lost them, but it still hurts. A dull, distant ache you don’t notice most of the time. Only on those lonely, long nights when there is nothing to distract you.
Ieyasu looks up, concern in his wide green eyes. “You don’t need to tell me if it’s too much.”
“No, it’s ok. I can talk about it. That was several years ago and I - I’m alright now.” You give him what you hope is a reassuring smile. “I read that the octopus was a symbol for adaptability. And that Akkorokamui meant healing and wisdom. So . . . I got it as a tattoo, so I would never forget I can handle everything life throws my way. That I will always heal, in time.”
His warm palm strokes your thigh, a gentle touch meant to be calming. The effect on you is less than, sending your pulse skyrocketing. “I see.” He continues the tender caress, though his brows furrow. “But why is it holding a flower?”
“Fragility and strength. Because I’m fragile but I want to be strong.” You take a breath, trying to calm your heart and settle the ache in your soul. Surprisingly, your grief already feels less, as if Ieyasu’s closeness has chased it away.
He nods, looking back down with his thoughtful expression. “I think it’s nice.”
You can’t miss the flush of red in his cheeks, or his sudden shyness as he pulls his hand away.
“Too bad such a pretty picture can’t stop you from being a danger to yourself. But I don’t think this will leave a scar on your lov- er, your skin.” Ieyasu’s coldness returns in full force, his eyes as hard as jade.
“Do you really think it’s pretty? I like it but -”
“Of course it is,” he snaps back, already pulling out a tincture to clean your wound.
You bite your lip at the sting, eyes watering a little.
Ieyasu sighs, his shoulders losing some of their tension. “Sorry. I should have warned you. This will hurt a little.”
“It’s fine. I’m just glad you like me - ah - my tattoo.”
His eyes widen at your slip in speech, his mouth open. The red in his cheeks spreads to his ears, and something in his gaze wavers. “Well. Even I can admit when someone-thing- is pretty. I’m not blind.”
You feel a giggle rising up and clamp down. Laughing now would not be a good thing. “Thanks.”
“Sure,” he mutters, turning away. You can still see the red tips of his ears.
#ikemen sengoku#ikesen mitsuhide#ikesen keiji#ikesen ieyasu#mitsuhide#keiji#ieyasu#fanfiction#otome#fanfic#otome guys#fluff
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dee rebelpeas is on her patreon arc
hi! do YOU want to support a fellow overachieving queer disabled artist for the low low price of $1USD per month? WELL fantastic news: you now can give me money!
in addition to behind-the-scenes patreon-exclusive posts sharing wips, speedpaints, and monthly art dumps, you will also be able to see the process within my beautiful mind as i hop from one artistic endeavour to another. because, yes, this art is not limited to exclusively drawings. you’ll also find creative writing, poetry, maybe an essay or two, textile arts and patterns, video game development, minecraft coding, skin design, and custom modeling, and literally anything else that may catch my interest for the next three months.
this also includes plenty of cool sick free downloads for you. wallpapers, game demos, modpacks, those icons for custom iphone homescreen layouts… you get the idea.
but wait, there’s MORE?? you also get first dibs on deciding what i draw: drawing requests, commission slots, and anything where i ask my audience for advice/suggestions will be opened on my patreon first. remember when i made dress-up games and picrews? when/if i make another one, my patrons will be able to suggest hairstyles, clothing pieces, and other accessories for me to add!
all that for JUST $1?! yup! but if you really want to, there is also a $5 tier. there’s no extra benefits, and all my patrons will be loved and adored equally. but if you want to give me five times the money out of the very goodness of your heart, who am i to stop you?
thanks everyone for all your support! bits aside, i appreciate you all so much and im so grateful for each and every one of you 🫶
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So, an idea I just thought of. Astarion is being canon as girl dad. But Gale. In fact. Is definitely girl dad. Why? Because Tim Downie who voices Gale. Has two young daughters. (He says it in my cameo on my Tumblr) and it would be hella rad to see Gale with two daughters with your tav. A mix of both personalities will be wild. Haha it's an idea. But I'll let you do the rest. You can check out the video on my Tumblr if you want to. 😊 plus your art is amazing (I was the one with the phantom of the Opera idea)
Girl Dad indeed. Meet Morena and Clio Dekarios (can you guess which one is Merena. Which one is Clio? lmao).
#OMG ITS YOU#SMOOCH YOU#I ALWAYS WANT TO DRAW FANKIDS#I love seeing my ship as a parents#AND AAAAAAAAAAAAA#Dad Gale 🥺#Thank you so much for your fantastic ideas#ilysmmmm#they actually have a son the youngest one but hes still in Cass's womb lol#bg3#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate oc#gale dekarios#tav#gale x tav#gale of waterdeep#asks
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I loved your Wally!
Here's a little gift! I hope you like him🙂
Gossshhh this is fantastic!!!! 😭💕💕💫
#Fanart#THANK UUUU#Melly is so happy he's getting all this attention 🥺💚✨#Oh man you have no idea how much your Fanart means to me#Who am I kidding ANY FANART MAKES ME CRY WITH JOY#Thank you for the AMAZING fantastic Fanart!!!!#Love love LOVING!!
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LADIES AND GENTLEMEN..... WE GOTTEM!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thank you so SO much to everyone who commissioned (read: enabled) me!!
Now that I've reached my goal of +10ing my boy, and since my time is (unfortunately) still quite limited due to work, I'm going to be closing comms tomorrow! So, if you have an idea and haven't decided if you want to commit or not yet, now's your last chance for the time being! ;) And to all those who have already paid, I know I do still have quite a few to get through- I was a FOOL to think I could just bang these out in 24 hours, lol, but please rest assured they will be coming within the next few days!! I'll get through them slowly but surely. Admittedly I did take a break to draw this guy because I was so pleased to get him, but I'll get right back on the horse tomorrow lol.
Thank you so much again everyone!! ^O^
Ferdinand went to a tea party and came back Different
#if you're wondering why I drew him with gullveig's serpents its bc i immediately fed my free gullveig to him xD flare sparrow + oath 4 yum#and then gave him her accessory for forging bonds so i can use him to grind bonus affection & sp lmaooooo#and while i wish they'd given us gullveig/seidr's floatie rocks as an accessory i love the broken halo-y look of the one they did. its neat#anyway i just love the idea that when you inherit a skill to a hero they gain a little bit of the sacrificed units traits. :)#Oops! Gained a little more than you bargained for there! Everything good comes at a cost- but the Order doesn't tell you until its too late#It's absolutely eating at him btw. he is now Experiencing Visions. a human's mind is not meant to interpret gullveig's cyclical nature#and i think its difficult for him to tell the present/what once was apart from what has yet to be/never was.#like watching two movies at once on the same screen! :) + hc that he gets the little floatie crystals when he's having strong visions#also lmao ferdie now sets EVERYTHING on fire. flame emperor who?#you can tell he's been somewhere bc he leaves singed footprints behind if he's not careful :)#GOD ANYWAY IM SORRY LOL too much random info. i'm done i promise. thank you so so much again if you supported me!!! <3#i hope you have a fantastic rest of your day/evening!!! & keep an eye out if you're still waiting on art :)
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YuRI
Yu are incredible
Happy borth sweetheart 🫶💙
AUGHGHH i'm getting ATTACKED with such sweet words omgg<33333
#ask#you guyyyys :'(((c shield me from this avalanche of love!!!!#the only unique thing here is your idea to use my url into compliments omsjghdfjedf#muah muah thank you SO much for passing by!!! have a fantastic day/night<33333 >:)c
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when I drew this comic 3 years ago I had NO idea how far it would reach. I'm happy to finally share a corrected version with proper abbreviations, and even MORE state names of indigenous origin ♥️
however, the goal of this comic was to inspire people to do your OWN research on indigenous history. To question everything we have been taught, and everything that has been pointedly left out. This erasure, this “forgetting”, of history is not just of the past… it is happening now.
- Across so-called Canada, the US, and US-occupied islands, native women are victims of murder at 10-12x the rate of non-native people, and are the most likely to go missing without being searched for by the law.
- Native reservations have the highest rates of poverty in the US, with over HALF of tribal homes with no access to clean water (with more joining this list by the year)
- Native people are 6-10x more likely to be unhoused than the rest of the population, and native teens suffer suicide rates higher than any other demographic.
This list of modern day genocide goes on (thank you for compiling @theindigenousanarchist <3) and yet take a look at those environmental stats!
Native people manage to do SO much for the planet as a whole - thanklessly - and with all this stacked against them. Don't even get me started on kin fighting in south america. Could you imagine if there was help? #landback is resistance to genocide, and it is the key to saving our warming earth.
So look into it and the other hashtags, cuz a cartoon goose ain't a substitute for a proper education.
Love to my grandparents who always kept a map of tribal territories of turtle island on their wall, to speaking on our Tsalagi & Saponi heritage. Love & solidarity forever, happy research, and
happy #indigenouspeoplesday
LANDBACK.ORG
(Also, if you care to support the artist, I'm publishing a book ! and writing another - a fantastical afroindigenous graphic novel - that I post exclusively about with tons of other art on my patreon.)
#mmiw#searchthelandfill#landback#art#comic#illustration#indigenous peoples day#rights#indigenous rights#autonomy#statistics#love#freedom#borders#history#usa#canada#turtle island#mariah-rose marie
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I love your reader insert stuff!! The yandere yazuka series was vvvv entertaining, I wish I had a big scary gangster to scare away my stalker lol
If you are open to requests, how about Idol!Reader x Yandere!Bodyguard. I love the trope so much, and I'm interested and what you'd do with the idea. No worries if you're not interested tho!
Best wishes
-🌟
I just finished writing it and you've got me punching the air with your prompt. It wasn't really my thing but I'm now sold. Thank you for the trope idea. :’)
Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (I)
Short scenario featuring your bodyguard that takes his duty a little too seriously. Not that you’d mind…
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
TW: violence
(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)
"Fantastic show tonight!"
The older man guides you in and closes the door behind him. You smile warmly and seat yourself on the sofa. He quickly follows, although at a terribly uncomfortable proximity. His legs are pressed against yours and he extends an arm behind you, pretending to stretch. You shuffle awkwardly and lock your hands in your lap. You can already tell where this is going.
"With your talent, I'm confident we could triple the number of attendants. We just need a bigger venue." He nods at you and taps your thigh with his other free hand as encouragement. You notice the wedding band digging into his skin.
"Alas, let us not waste the evening with business talk. I'm sure a stunning lady like you has better things to do." He laughs at his own compliment and ponders for a minute. "In fact, why don't we have dinner together? I know a great restaurant in the area."
You open your mouth to speak, but are distracted by the sudden, mild pressure on your leg. Somehow, his greasy fingers have wandered further up in the time you listened to his shameless offer. You've been in this career for long enough to guess what such proposals entail. If you say no, best case scenario he presses further, calling you a stuck up bitch and reminding you who has the power in this partnership. Worst case scenario, he leaves the room and the calls and invitations to perform will gradually drop.
Yet your situation is special, benefitting from an additional possibility. A loophole, if you may.
Should you scream? Oh, he always gets so angry when you act scared. It's an immediate trigger. He really has a soft spot for your glistening, frightened eyes. You glance up one final time at the perverted smirk silently disregarding you. If you are to be honest with yourself, you'd very much enjoy seeing it wiped off forever. Why not? You're feeling particularly mean today.
So without hesitation, you release a high pitched yell of help. The door bursts open and the hinges creak. A tall, toned man walks in, and without a word he lunges at the manager, pulling him by the collar of his cheap dress jacket. You hold your cheeks dramatically, and bat your eyelashes at your bodyguard.
"H-he tried to molest me..." you mumble between sobs.
That's all he needs to proceed. Now the real fun begins. You can hear the muffled screams of protest. The bones crack and the flesh bends under his iron fists. Standing before your bodyguard, they all end up looking like ragdolls. Comically limp and weak, folding and breaking with no resistance. It amuses you greatly.
When did it all begin? You can't remember anymore. You were in your early years and this scary looking stranger entered your little backstage room. His explanation was brief and to the point: as your fame increases, so will the threats to your safety. He was appointed as your bodyguard. You couldn't care less, so you just shrugged.
You've always been on the playful side. Not necessarily rude, just some innocent tease and banter wherever it's well received. Seeing him so quiet and stoic, you couldn't help but try to push his buttons: changing in front of him and requiring his assistance, occasionally asking him to pick you up and carry you because you could no longer walk. Naturally you would've stopped at the first complaint, but that's the strange part: no reaction ever came. He went along with everything. You assumed it's part of the job. Celebrities aren't known for their good manners, so hiring someone that loses their temper easily would be a fast ticket to termination.
Then you had your first encounter with one of the unpleasant fans you've been warned about. You could only stare in terror at your bodyguard's feral, unhinged reaction. The unfortunate fan's face was so disfigured, you wondered if anyone could ever manage to fix it back into shape. The bodyguard was panting and you could see the sweat coating his face and chest. You were rather confident there were many other ways to deal with it and this wasn't on the recommended list. Thus you felt compelled to ask the million dollar question:
"You act like a jealous spouse. Do you have a crush on me or something?"
You kind of regretted your audacity towards a man that had just nearly killed someone. But his features softened instantly and he turned to you, wiping his forehead and straightening his collar.
"I suppose so. Is that an issue?"
As you stared ahead, processing his unbothered act, you sensed your cheeks feverishly burning. Uh oh. You hadn't anticipated such a nonchalant confession. You thought back to all the times you stood before him, bare and flirty. Was he merely holding back his urges the entire time? Or was he finally paying you back for all the teasing? Then again, his face didn't betray any hint of humor.
"I've never heard you joke before", you decided to test the waters.
"I'm not. Why would I joke about something like this?" He gazed at you incredulously.
As somber and honest as ever. Well, that would indeed explain why he'd let you get away with the cheeky behavior. The more you considered it, the more entranced you became with the idea of indulging in such a relationship. As a famous idol, you couldn't be seen dating anyone. One rumor of you having a boyfriend and the agency would've had your ass suspended. But no one said anything about messing around with your bodyguard. He has to be with you all the time, so no one would suspect a thing. And you could definitely expand his list of responsibilities. You'd been terribly stressed lately, after all, and an outlet to release your frustrations would be most welcomed. Your bodyguard would never refuse pleasing his beloved.
You chuckled and pulled him towards your dressing room, giddy with excitement. Something about his imposing presence, like a wild animal that had just escaped from the leash, aroused you to no end. You've had your share of crazy fans, but this was the cherry on top.
"Should we leave?"
You're jolted out of your daydreams by his low, rough voice. Ah, you missed the grand finale. Too bad. The bodyguard approaches you, with the shirt wrinkled and the top buttons popped open under the shuffle of his vicious attack. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach.
"Not yet. You know how I get when you act like this..." You pout and look away. "You need to take care of me first."
He grins at your last statement.
"Of course. Is the sofa okay?"
You nod.
"Then let's get you undressed, miss."
Is this what they call a scary dog privilege?
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#female reader#yandere bodyguard#yandere imagine#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#male yandere x reader#yandere original character
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girl dad 🎀 (b.c)
i had seen a tik tok with chan and the twins, and how he's a girl dad 🥹 so, i had come up with this idea 🫢 i hope you guys like it 🩷
feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰
~
You've been sitting in your car for twenty minutes, trying to get yourself to stop crying. One hand covers your mouth, quieting your sobs while the other gently rubs your tiny baby bump. You're fourteen weeks pregnant, and you just found out what you and Chan are having.
Your phone vibrates in your vehicle's cup holder, seeing Chan's name on the screen. You wipe your tears and take a deep breath before answering his call.
“Hey, baby,” you greet him, smiling to yourself.
“Hi, my baby,” Chan's voice makes your heart flutter. “Have you made it to the studio yet? How did the appointment go? I'm sorry I couldn't go with you.”
You giggle and lean back against the seat, turning your head to look out the window. “It's okay, baby. I forgot you had a schedule this morning. It went well. I have another sonogram photo to show you,” you inform him on how it went, leaving out the part where you learned whether your baby’s a girl or a boy.
“That's good. I can't wait to see our bean,” he giggles into the receiver, making you giggle as well. “We're just about to start filming, so I wanted to let you know that you're free to come in. I gave your name to security.”
You turn your vehicle off, feeling yourself calmer after talking to your boyfriend. “Okay, baby. I just pulled in, so I'll be there in a few. I love you,” you smooch.
“I love you so much. As soon as I have a free moment, I'm kissing you,” he mentions, having missed his morning kisses due to both of you being busy.
You're walking towards the building, and you shake your head. “I'm not going to complain,” you laugh, bidding him goodbye.
You slip your phone into your back pocket, giving the guard your name. He lets you in without any trouble, thankfully, and you make your way towards the room they're recording in.
When you finally reach the place Chan and Felix are in, you notice that they've already started recording. You look through the window of the door, seeing your boyfriend sitting cross-legged on the floor with the twins in his lap.
Tears pool in your eyes as you gently rub your belly, thinking of how it'll be when she's born. “Is this what parent life will look like?” You ask no one in particular, taking a quick glance down at your barely noticeable bump.
You chew on your lip as you walk into the room, the squeals of the girls reaching your ears. Chan's eyes meet yours, and he smiles at you fondly.
You wave at him before crossing your arms over your chest. Felix and Chan's manager grabs a chair for you to sit in, knowing that you're pregnant. You thank Skijigi quietly and take a seat.
The recording didn't last much longer, the two boys having a snack with the twins before they headed out. You stay in your seat when Chan walks over to you, greeting you with a kiss.
“Have you been crying?” He asks, noticing the redness around your eyes. His fingertips gently stroke your skin, a frown etching onto his lips.
“I can't get anything past you, can I?” You chuckle, shaking your head. Chan shakes his head as well, looking around to see the staff slowly filtering out. “It's nothing bad, I promise.”
Your hand grabs his, intertwining your fingers together before squeezing his hand. “The baby's okay?” He asks, stroking the back of your hand.
“Yes, absolutely,” you tell him, standing up from your chair. You bring your conjoined hands to your stomach, letting him feel your bump. “She is doing fantastic.”
His head snaps up, a gasp leaving his plump lips. “She? We're having a girl?” Chan whispers, his hands moving to your waist. “Are we really having a baby girl?”
Tears pool in both of your eyes, and you nod your head, confirming. “We're gonna have a little girl,” you cry out, laughing as you do. “You're going to be such a wonderful girl dad.”
Your fingers stroke his cheek, smiling up at him as you wipe his tears. Chan's lip quivers, bringing you into his chest. “I can't believe we're gonna have a girl,” he sniffles, gliding his hands on your lower back. “I hope she looks just like you.”
You pull back enough to look at him, smiling softly. “I hope she has your smile and dimples,” you giggle, leaning on your toes to kiss his lips.
“I can't wait to tell the kids,” he laughs, pressing chaste kisses on your lips. “They were so convinced that we'll have a boy.”
You burst out laughing, combing your fingers through his hair. “Let's go prove them wrong,” you wink, pulling away from him completely. Chan swiftly grabs your hand as the two of you walk out of the room together.
“After we tell them you want to get dinner?” He asks, kissing the back of your conjoined hands.
Your heart flutters in your chest, nodding your head, yes. “I'd love to, baby,” you grin, leaning your head on his arm. “I love you.”
Chan kisses your head and squeezes your hand. “I love you, baby.”
~
tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n
#bang chan#bang chan imagine#bang chan imagines#bang chan x reader#bang chan x you#bang chan x y/n#bang chan scenarios#bang chan drabbles#bang chan fluff#bang chan fanfiction#bang chan fanfic#bang chan fic#stray kids#stray kids imagines#stray kids imagine#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids fanfic#stray kids fic#stray kids drabbles#stray kids fluff#stray kids scenarios
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Okay, imagine mechanic!Konig who fixes your car and is just you know- hot. And then as payment he wants a date. In the back of his car. Where he fucks your brains out and is just so sweet. Mutters the dirtiest things about always being able to fix your car if you give him a baby or something and is just- god I'm feral for this man. And your writing!
Anyway, sorry if it's a weird ask. I love your writing to death, it's fantastic! Make sure to eat yummy snacks and stay hydrated!
AHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! That means so much to me and I'm so happy to have such great supporters like you! I absolutely LOVE this idea! I hope you enjoy! Thank you so so much for your support!! 💗
Mechanic!König x reader (fem)
MDNI🔞
Part 2
>cw: fem/afab, sex for payment, p in v, breeding kink, dirty talk
Word count: 1.4k
For more click here✍🏽🔞
.
.
You turn your car off and step out, accidently slamming the car door behind you. The ground underneath your feet is uneven as you make your way towards the open garage door. The place looks old and the location seems right out of a horror movie, but you push those thoughts aside.
Looking inside the garage you see a man bent over under the hood of a red pick-up truck. His dirty white shirt and oil-stained jeans are all you can see of him.
“Excuse me? Sir? Hi, I’m y/n, I was wondering if you could look at my car?” Your voice is small and polite, like your customer service voice.
König stops working on the truck and stands, looking over at you. His eyes roam your body, taking in your shape before his icy blue eyes finally meet yours. He looks around as if to check if you were here with anyone or if you came alone.
“What’s wrong with it?” He asks stoically not giving away how attracted to you he is just yet.
“I have trouble starting it and when it does turn on it makes this terrible screeching noise,” Your eyes scan his body, his muscles glistening from a light sheen of sweat across his body. His face is stern with scars across his cheek and upper lip, but it doesn’t take away from his handsomeness.
König stays quiet for a while before walking forward and grabbing a rag to wipe his hands off on, “Okay, let me take a look.”
Tossing the rag aside he walks forward towards you with his hand out for your keys. You place them in his palm, his eyes looking down at you as he towers over you with his 6’10 frame. You turn on your heels and walk to your car with König following close behind. His eyes are glued to the way your ass sways with every step you take.
He unlocks your car and leans in to turn the car on. His eyes watching the dashboard as the engine stalls turning over. Once your car eventually does, he hears the loud sound you spoke of and he knows the issue.
“You have a bad alternator.” He steps back and looks down at you before opening the hood of your car. “It’s an easy fix, should only take an hour, two at most.”
His eyes go back to you and his gaze lingers on your cleavage before looking back down at the car, “There are seats in the shop, you can wait there.”
“Okay, thank you.” You walk back to the garage and pull out your phone to help pass the time. You look around to see an old photo of a car and nothing else personal. The space is clean and only the sound of his radio fills the space.
An hour and a half passes by and König walks in. You put your phone back in your bag and stand.
“She turns on, no issues now.” He says as his eyes look around the shop trying not to be too intense with his gaze.
“Oh, thank you so much sir, -”
“König.” He cuts you off, his gaze going back to yours.
“Thank you, König.” You smile warmly at him. Looking down at your purse you begin to fish your wallet out, “How much do I owe you?”
König looks at the wallet in your hands before his gaze travels over your body once more. He wasn’t interested in your money. There is one thing he’s wanted since he saw you walking up to him, you. He didn’t want to be a perve and ask for it, so he just gave you a price, “$600.”
Your face drops as you only have $400 until next payday, “Can I pay $200 now, and the rest later.”
“I don’t take payments.”
“Oh...”
“But,” he walks closer to you, “I’m sure we can figure something out.” His large hand caresses the side of your face, a smirk on his lips.
.
.
You end up in the back of his SUV with blacked out windows parked behind his garage. Your clothes stripped off and thrown on the floor, your body completely exposed to him. His shirt pulled off showing you his muscular abdomen as his pants are pulled down around his knees. A soft blonde happy trail leading from his belly button to his erection. One of his hands gripping your thigh and holding one leg up as his other hand guides his condomless cock to your pussy.
He pushes in slowly at first, letting out a soft groan as he feels how tight you are. Your warm gummy walls wrapping around his cock as he bullies his way inside.
“Mein Gott your pussy is so tight Maus,” he moans as he grabs your other leg now. His lips kiss your legs up to your feet as he slowly bucks his hips forward. Your hands grasp the seat as he fucks you. Pathetic mewls leave your lips, feeling your pussy being stretched to an almost painful point.
“You’re so beautiful…” Letting go of one leg, he moves his hands down to your breast and begins to tug on your nipple, leaning in as his lips find your nipple; licking before sucking on your sensitive peak. His tongue circling around before wrapping his lips around and pulling gently, your fingers combing through his blonde hair. His mind wished you were full of milk so he could drink from you. His hands dropping down to your stomach and caressing your soft skin. Oh, how beautiful you’d look swollen and full with his child.
“You need a man to take care of you Schatzi,” he leans back and looks at your pretty pussy stretching around his fat cock. The sound of your wet cunt sounding like angels singing to him. He pushes both legs back and leans into you more as he begins to pound your pussy harder. His eyes watching your breast bounce before his eyes travel to your stomach. You’re tiny compared to his massive body, but taking his dick so well.
“I could be that man,” he groans, “you’d never have to worry about your car ever again Liebling.” His voice was laced with lust and ecstasy. König has never desired a woman so much before as he desires you.
“Just have my baby, let me fuck my baby into you.” He growls as one of his hands goes to your sopping wet pussy as begins to rub your clit.
Legs twitching, you’re lost in the euphoria of the moment. His cock filling you and making you so dick dizzy you don’t even fully register his words. “Please, yes, fuck me.”
“That’s what I want to fucking hear.” König grabs your leg and moves you on your side. He lays his body behind you on the seat and lifts your leg up. His face by yours as he gently kisses your neck and the side of your face. His cock slipped back into your wet pussy, causing your eyes to flutter. He let out a small sigh, “That’s my girl.”
König moves hair from your face as he continues to kiss all over you, “You’re so perfect Schatzi.”
His hand slowly slips down your thigh as he begins to rub your clit again, “Cum for me Liebling, cum on my cock.”
You turn your head to look at König, his eyebrows pinched together as his mouth hangs open. His eyes meet your and he leans in to kiss your soft lips. His tongue licks your lips before pushing between them. His tongue twirling in yours and tasting you, he’s in heaven. He can feel you begin to tighten around him as your legs begin to tremble. Your kiss begins to get lazy as you concentrate on your orgasm.
“Please, please, please.” You moan out, your breathing heavy. His hand rubs over your swollen sensitive clit faster making you squirm in his arms. You feel how wet you get as your pussy begins to squeeze around his cock, his balls tightening as he is eager to get off.
König’s eyes roll back as he leans his head against the seat now, his arm under you wrapping tightly around your stomach and grabs it. “Do you want my cum?”
“Yes,” you look back still on a high and watch his face as he closes his eyes while the pleasure takes over his whole being, “please cum in my tight pussy.”
That made him let out a loud groan as he moaned your name. His cock begins to throb as he releases deep inside of you. He leans forward to kiss your neck and check, desperately wanting your lips. You turn your head to meet his lips as you both kiss passionately.
.
.
.
Nine weeks later your car is still running great, but you’re 4 days late.
Part 2
#konig#konig x y/n#konig cod#konig x reader#könig#könig x reader#konig smut#könig smut#könig cod#könig mw2#konig x you#konig x reader smut#könig x y/n#könig x you#könig call of duty#smut
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Hii! I saw your requests were open and I thought I'd give you a hc/fic idea:
The brothers (or whoever you'd like to write for) reacting to Mc using their shampoo/ soap in the shower for whatever reason ^^
I hope this makes sense to you lol, anyways I hope you're having a wonderful day/night, don't push yourself too hard, and drink water!! You can also take any creative liberties you seem fit, or if you decide you don't want to write it I won't be offended ^^
°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°
Thank you so much for the request!! This is absolutely adorable,
I hope everything is to your liking, Have a great rest of your day/night !!
Genre: fluff
Ship: Reader x brothers + Diavolo (individual headcanons)
TW: clingy demons, minimal cussing, no use of readers' pronouns,
second-person pov
When You Use Their Shampoo
Stepping into the shower, You were greeted with the nice hot/cool water raining from above, Going to start your routine, You reached for your shampoo bottle only to find it empty! Looking around you spotted his shampoo and conditioner, surely he wouldn’t mind… right?
Lucifer
100% smells it on you no matter how little you used
Won’t tease you in public but as soon as ya’ll are alone? Ho ho, he’ll never shut up about it
Smug, the definition of smug
You had to go and inflate the ego of The Lord of Pride even more
Very possessive afterwards
Congrats, You know have a scary guard dog demon!
Mammon
He probably wouldn’t even really notice at first
He’d probably compliment how good you smell, Then would slowly realize…
Great, Now he's yelling gibberish while his face slowly gets redder and redder
“You’re gonna give me a heart attack, don’t do that to me!” But will become very clingy
If you say his shampoo smells good, he may lose his mind.
“Well of course ya wanted to smell Like the great Mammon!”
Levi
Poor awkward nerd
He never saw this coming
I think he would realize you used his shampoo but won’t say anything
Flustered to the max
You have broken him
Levi.404 has stopped working, please reset.
After like the third day, You’re gonna have to bring it up
Secretly really likes it, Won’t tell you that though
Satan
I think he is very picky about scents so he knows as soon as you walk into the room
A little bit of a tease, asking if you were trying out a new shampoo
Smug 2.0
He would tease you a little bit around the others but not bad
He would flood you with compliments, You using his shampoo would make him very lovey-dovey
Expect him to ask for ya’ll to just use the same stuff from now on
Asmo
Oh honey, he knows.
He knew before you even got out of the shower.
But that doesn't mean he's any less excited!
Better plug your ears because he will let out the loudest squeal known to mankind
Seriously, Lucifer may come and check on ya’ll helicopter mom
Asks what you do and don’t like about it
He just wants you to feel as fantastic as he does when using it
Everyone will know you used his shampoo, He brings it up in every conversation
Would also 100% ask you to use his bath products 24/7
Beel
Now Beel has never been really into insane products like Asmo or Luci
So he may not really recognize it at first
If you decide to tell him, This man will become a happy demon puddle
He’ll give you a big smile and tell you you’re free to use any of his stuff at anytime
We don’t deserve Beel
Will bury his face into your hair and just stay there
Takes you out to Hell’s kitchen that night just because he loves you so much
Belphie
Oh this little shit
Tease! He won’t quit bragging!!
Smug 3.0
Such a brat about it too, He won’t let anybody near you, Well of course he’d let Beel, but who wouldn't?
He has practically locked you up in the attic with him
Why go outside when ya’ll can cuddle?
Diavolo
Has really expensive products
He may even have a custom scent
If so, He’ll know instantly that you’ve used his shampoo
He’ll bring it up with a large grin on his face
When you confirm his suspicions, he’ll just laugh
He’s so happy ya’ll are close enough to share things like that, You have no idea!
He may make a sly comment to Barbatos or Lucifer just because he’s a little possessive
Will follow you around like a lost puppy, Now Barbatos is mad at you because even less of his work is done
He can’t help it! He just loves you!
Will be the third on my list to offer ya’ll to just share bath products
#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me one master to rule them all#obey me x reader#obey me beelzebub#obey me diavolo#obey me fic#obey me mammon#self ship#obey me fluff#obey me hcs#obey me headcanons#obey me lucifer#obey me asmodeus#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me belphie#obey me x you#obeymexreader#janus'writings#janus'asks#omswd#obey me fanfic#obey me fandom
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do you wanna make somethin' of it (Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!reader)
pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader (no y/n)
synopsis: turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.
word count: 10.4k
warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: audio porn, a truly unhinged amount of dirty talk, overuse of pet names, bob's raging size kink, overstimulation via vibrators (and otherwise), unprotected PiV sex, an unrealistic number of orgasms, some dumbification, as can be expected.
A/N: this is way late bc i had to make sure the people who reblogged the moodboard were legal, thanks everyone for the patience and support! esp thank you @hangmanssunnies for being so encouraging, @sometimesanalice for being a gem and betaing thank you @laracrofted for coming up with bob's (ahem) inspirational reveal, and thank you everyone else for letting me be feral. there were a couple people who reblogged the moodboard but I couldn't tag them, so for the record, if you ask to be tagged, pls do make sure you're taggable AND ALSO THAT YOU HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO I AM NOT KIDDING. the title is from Jo Dee Messina's 90s country bop, "Do You Wanna Make Something Of It" -- okay enjoy!
You paused, halfway into your flight suit, looking down at your phone.
It was probably a bad idea to open an audio erotica app forty minutes before you had to be in the debriefing room with the rest of the aviators in your unit.
But.
You were ovulating, your vibrator was charged, and you’d just gotten a notification that BullRiderRhett had posted a new audio.
Before you knew it, you were grabbing your headphones and folding your flight suit by the door, leaving your tank top and sports bra on, but shimmying out of your panties. You set an alarm on your phone, connected your headphones and opened the app.
Quickie During the Rodeo
After my ride, I don’t have much time before they call up the winners…but you look so damn good in that sundress. We have to be quick, though. [M4F] [Short Audio] [Established Relationship] [In Public] [Strong Language] [Moaning] [SFX]
Yeah, you thought to yourself, that’d do.
You slid into bed, pulling a muting blanket over the lower half of your body as you settled into your bed and clicked play.
Immediately, the sounds of a rodeo pushed through your headphones.
You heard the shuffle of hundreds of feet, a rowdy crowd cheering, and distant country music over a speaker. You could almost imagine the dusty air, the smell of fresh hay and sweat, and the clamor of barrel racing in another arena.
There was a steady clanking of spurs as a pair of boots walked towards you.
“There y’are,” a low voice said, the perfect combination of fond and gravelly. You heard a shuffle of fabric, and a soft inhale, like the cowboy was wrapping you in his arms. Your eyes fell closed so you could immerse yourself in the fantasy.
“How’s my girl doin’?” he asked, his voice muffled like he had buried his head in your shoulder.
You never responded verbally to these things; it broke the illusion to speak to an empty room, but you liked that Rhett paused, as if waiting for your answer.
“Ah, well, I always ride better when I know you’re in the stands, cheerin’ for me,” he said. He had such a fantastic voice, low and soft, with this drawl that was so unpretentious and alluring. His canvas jacket rustled like he was hugging you tighter.
“Just let me hold you for a sec, yeah?” he asked, as the ambient sounds of the rodeo seeped back in. You found yourself just listening for the sound of Rhett’s breathing over it, a slow and steady rhythm that was deeply centering.
You heard when his breath caught, followed by a shuffling sound and a choked gasp from the cowboy.
“Whoa, whoa,” Rhett’s voice was warm with surprise and delight. “Cut that out, darlin’, we can’t, they’re gonna call me back–”
His voice broke off on a low moan that had you biting your lip.
Why did guys in real life never moan?
It was such a pretty sound, deep and masculine, and full of desire. It was one of your favorite things about Rhett. Your hand slipped under the blanket, rubbing over your pussy gently, getting yourself used to the pressure.
“Darlin’,” Rhett’s voice had gotten deeper, like a warning. “Ya can’t tease me like that, ‘s not kind.”
Your hips shifted at that voice, and Rhett laughed, low.
“Y’just can’t help yourself, can you, sweet girl?”
It was your favorite pet name he used, just the way he said it. You were obsessed with the gravel in his voice, the melodic twang coupled with a gentleness that belied all his ruggedness. It was like he was being quiet to make sure no one overheard him, like his words were for your ears only.
His spurs clinked as the noise of the rodeo faded, as though he was leading you somewhere away from prying eyes. A second later, there was a gentle, wet sound, like he was kissing you.
How would he taste, you wondered. Would his lips be soft? Or would they be chapped? Would he be ravenous, turned on from the adrenaline of the ride, or would he be slow, savoring your taste?
You turned on your vibrator, on a low and warming setting. You traced it lightly over your pussy, acclimatizing, as Rhett’s voice and the soft vibrations sent a heat under your skin.
Rhett’s breathing was heavy, like being near you made him breathless.
“Shameless,” Rhett chided, amused and fond. “I know I can’t stop you, but I’m not about to let anyone see ya like this. You’re mine.”
Your hips canted up into the vibrator, spurred on by the idea of being his.
“Oh, you like that, huh, sweet girl?” Rhett practically purred, his voice like a caress, “You like being mine?”
Rhett’s words washing over you, and vibrator’s motions met less resistance as you felt yourself growing wet.
“What if I…” he asked, and you heard fabric shuffling, like he was reaching down and under your dress. “Fuck, darlin’, are you wet for me already?”
You pressed your lips together to trap in a whimper.
You knew it was formulaic, but that didn’t make you less turned on. In this fantasy, you were Rhett’s girlfriend, you were already wet for him, you were needy enough to risk being caught to have his dick inside of you.
“Ya sure about this?” Rhett asked, and you could hear the intensity in his voice. Like he needed you too, just as desperately. “Yeah? Yeah, me too…fuck—yeah, feel me through my jeans. Feel how hard I am for you.”
You turned the vibrator up, imagining the rough texture of denim against your pussy. How hard Rhett would be, how good it would feel to rock up against the dirty fabric. Probably not the most hygienic, but he’d be so hot, even through his jeans, impossibly tempting.
“Go on, take me out,” Rhett directed, his voice a low whisper.
He moaned in your ear as a belt buckle came undone, and your head fell back as you circled the vibrator over your clit. God, he sounded so good, he sounded unraveled. You imagined the weight of him in your hand, and you shifted your hips, wishing you could feel the heat of him.
“Shit, okay. We hafta be quick,” Rhett panted. “I know, I know, turn around for me, darlin’. Brace yourself against the wall here…Christ, you look so good like this…ya ready for me?”
You couldn’t help yourself; you slid a hand down your body, changing the angle of the vibrator so you could run a finger through your folds.
Rhett held his breath, like it was too good, too much, and you waited.
Then came his strangled, relieved exhale, and you pushed a finger into yourself as you imagined him sliding into you.
“That’s right, sweet girl,” Rhett praised, his voice breathless, awed. “Let me into that tight pussy, nice and easy...”
Your mouth fell open as you imagined him filling you.
Would he be thick? Long? Maybe a slight curve to his cock? Cut or uncut? You licked your lips, your mind spinning with possibilities, your fingers a paltry imitation of the thing you wanted so badly.
“Ah, that’s it, that’s it,” Rhett murmured, and you couldn’t help but add another finger. “Such a good girl, for me, aren’t ya?”
You wanted to be his good girl.
Rhett was breathing hard, and the rhythm of it was perfect. You circled around your clit with the vibrator, and you were panting now too, your hips canting up as you fucked yourself on your fingers. You could imagine him driving into you, his hips thrusting his cock into you. It would be thick, you decided, broad and heavy.
“Ah, you’re taking me so well,” Rhett grunted. “You were made to take this fat cock, weren’t you?”
His breaths were coming faster, and you could hear him slamming his hips into yours. You could imagine his balls swinging, could imagine him driving into you to reach that spot your fingers just couldn’t brush against.
“This pussy feels so good, darlin’,” Rhett whispered, “the way you’re clenchin’ around me…”
Your thighs fell farther apart as you tried to time your fingers’ thrusts to his cadence. He was grunting after each thrust, this beautiful soft sound of exertion and pleasure.
A faint cheer rose above the sounds of your panting; another event had concluded.
“Shit, we hafta hurry, they’re gonna–” Rhett broke off, his hips snapping faster. “C’mere, let me play with that clit, let me feel you–fuck yeah, clench around me, just like that.”
You turned the vibrator up, your fingers faltering inside of you at the increased vibration and his words. Rhett’s grunts were getting higher pitched, a delicate thread of need seeping into them and you were going to lose your mind; it was perfect.
“Ah, such a good girl,” Rhett groaned. “God, I don’t deserve you, ya feel so good…are you close, darlin? Tell me you’re close, I need to feel you cumming on my cock, will ya do that for me?”
You were bucking into your hand, chasing a release that had come on so fast, so strong and you were so damn close, you just needed–
“There ya go,” Rhett breathed, his voice tight. “You feel–oh, sweet girl, don’t stop clenching me like that. Oh, you’re gonna make me cum with that tight pussy, fuck, are you gonna come with me, darlin’? Please come with me, please…”
You pumped your fingers in time with his pleas, Rhett’s voice growing hoarse as his hips sped up. You were so close, he sounded so good, you were almost there.
“Feels so good…Ah, I’m coming, I’m there– ah, shit,” Rhett moaned, his voice choking, and you orgasmed along with him, collapsing back into the pillow.
Your legs shook and you jerked the vibrator away from your sensitive clit, stroking gently over your pussy with your other hand and easing yourself down.Your body felt like it was humming and you turned the vibrator off, sated and pleasure drunk.
Something about Rhett always had you timing it perfectly, feeling so in sync and so primed, and when he came, it was like your permission to.
Rhett was groaning softly in your ear.
“So beautiful, darlin’,” he whispered. “God, I’m so lucky, look at you…so damn beautiful…”
The audio would fade out in another few minutes and you fumbled for your phone to turn it off, and turn off the just-in-case alarm that you’d set.
There was a bittersweet moment with audio erotica that didn’t exist in traditional porn– aftercare. Instead of just ending a scene, most creators seemed to enjoy winding down with their listeners, saying soft things, silly things, fond things. It straddled the line between soothing and demoralizing, and you couldn’t say you loved the contrast between the care in Rhett’s voice and the emptiness around you.
An emptiness that was interrupted by a loud pounding on your door.
“Hey, I can see your light under the door,” Bradley called from the hallway, “you better not still be asleep! If we’re late to Mav’s briefing you know he’s gonna have us doing laps around the tarmac.”
You stuck your tongue out at the ceiling on principle, grateful for the quiet of your vibrator and the distance between the door and your bed.
“Calm your tits, Rooster,” you yelled back, “I’m practically ready.”
“Damn better be,” you heard Bradley say, loud enough to be heard, soft enough to know he wasn’t actually pressed.
You gave yourself another ten seconds to revel in that perfect orgasm, and then swung your legs over the side of the bed. You cleaned yourself off quickly, dressed even quicker, and were out the door in no time.
Some might even say, with a pep in your step.
“Told you,” you muttered as you walked by Bradley’s row in the debriefing room, on time, and he huffed.
You settled into your normal seat, waving good morning to Callie and lifting your chin at Mickey, who grinned back at you. Bob was in the seat next to yours, as you’d all agreed early on that WSOs had to stick together, and you bumped his shoulder with yours as you sat.
The sweet man smiled, a hidden thing, and looked away quickly.
Sometimes, you felt like you knew there was more to him than he let on.
You’d seen him in action, seen him make split-second decisions that kept him and Phoenix in the air. You’d seen him crank out 200 pushups with Jake and Javy like it was nothing. But at the same time, he never seemed to hold your eye for longer than strictly necessary, seeming more comfortable to address the floor (unless someone pushed too hard, and he’d snap something so sassy it’d make you bite the inside of your mouth to keep from laughing).
When you’d first met him, you’d thought he was cute, in an Old Hollywood leading man kind of way, soft muscles and deep eyes.
You’d wondered if maybe you made him nervous. You’d thought maybe there was interest in those ocean blue eyes, but time went on, and he remained sweet and polite and kind. He was the same to you as he was with everyone else, and you were led to the reality that he was just an incredibly decent person.
Crushes came and went like water, especially in a group as gorgeous as the one you flew with, so you let him have his secrets.
The lights clicked off as Maverick strode to the front of the room, already talking and clicking his way through some kind of demonstration.
The hours in the room flew by.
By the time he finished, your head was spinning with a blur of parameters and calculations and mission expectations. You knew pilots felt the same way about your job as you did about theirs, but you were always grateful that at the end of briefings you only had to worry about systems and odds, not about flying a plane. As you were dismissed, everyone crowded to the center aisle, trying to get out and to the hangar as quickly as possible. Someone sneezed, or someone pushed someone; Harvard dropped his coffee.
It wasn’t full, and you were all in flight suits anyways, but you still startled when it fell, splashing over the row you were sitting in. Black coffee flew over seats and notebooks (thankfully no phones), and someone laughed as Harvard’s attempts to catch it just served to further empty the cup. Bob took the worst of it, on the end of your row.
"Ah, shit," Bob muttered, and you froze.
It wasn't that Harvard's spilled coffee had ruined Bob's notes, and yours too.
It wasn't that everyone in the briefing room was looking back at your row in surprise.
It wasn't even that Bob had sworn, even though you'd never heard anything harsher than "gosh" from the WSO's lips.
It was that that cuss, in that voice, in that same mumbled tone, had pushed you to orgasm four hours ago.
“Alright, it’s just coffee,” Maverick called over the clamor. “We’re burning daylight, people, come on.”
Harvard was apologizing profusely, someone was passing paper towels out, but you felt completely out of your body, in shock.
Bob was BullRiderRhett.
The WSO who asked for ginger ale when everyone else did shots at the Hard Deck, who cleaned his glasses when he got nervous, who stayed up all night to help Payback’s kid put together a Lego Statue of Liberty last time he was in town …was the guy who had talked you through the last few months of orgasms.
(Yes, you had an annual subscription).
(Yes, you deserved it).
When you let yourself back into your room at the end of the night, it still felt surreal.
In retrospect, you should’ve been a million times more dialed in– you’d had a $73 million machine under your hands, and the only thing on your mind all day had been this revelation.
How had you never noticed before??
Now that you were thinking of it, Bob did have that slight accent when he was tired, or when he was mad enough at something stupid Jake said…but what were you even supposed to do with this knowledge?
You moved through your skincare much the same way you’d moved through most of the day – on autopilot.
A knock on your door startled you.
“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” you called, automatically.
“Uh,” called a too-familiar voice, “not Bradshaw.”
You winced at your reflection in the mirror, trying desperately to decide if you recognized Bob’s voice from countless drills or from your Favorites list. You crossed your arms across your chest, your sweatshirt dragging against the hem of your pajama shorts as you slouched over to the door.
“Robert,” you announced, as you opened it, mentally smacking your palm against your forehead. You had literally never called him Robert; what was wrong with you??
Could’ve been worse, you mused.
You could’ve said ‘Rhett’.
“Hey,” he said, and if he was thrown by the use of his full name, he didn’t show it.
He looked the same.
The same, but in the way that had made you catch your breath when you first met him, when you were relieved that he was so unassuming and kind, because if he’d been any kind of authoritative, it would’ve debilitated you.
Tonight, he’d clearly showered after drills.
His hair was freshly combed and still damp, darker than normal. A tendril fell in front of his glasses, leaving a small line of fog against the outer corner of one of the lenses. He was in a plain white tshirt and light sweatpants, and you made yourself stop from looking further because you were not about to objectify your friend just because you now knew that he could dirty talk with the best of them.
And now you were thinking about that.
“Are you mad at me?” Bob asked, and it snapped you out of your spiral.
He was frowning at the sill, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his chest tight. There was a purse in between his eyebrows, and you really could not understand him, because how could a man who was objectively gorgeous, subjectively sweet, be this adorable? He looked up and the moment your eyes met, you looked away.
“No,” you said quickly, clearing your throat. “Of course not. Obviously.”
“I mean, not obviously,” Bob said, rubbing a sneaker against the carpet in the hallway. “You practically sprinted out of the briefing this morning, refused to speak to me over comms during drills, and you won’t look at me for more than two seconds, and that’s normally someone else’s line to me.”
It was a weak joke, but it was funny, and you could hear in his voice that he was trying to set you at ease, and that really only made you feel worse.
So you stepped aside and held open the door, not really trusting yourself to say anything else. Bob looked nervous, and you wanted to tell him it was you, not him, but instead you waited in silence as he stepped into the room.
You only had the light over the sink on, and the room was in soft shadows, but you thought it might be more weird if you turned on a light, like you were calling attention to it. You shut the door and Navy rooms didn’t really come with guest furniture, so you gestured to the foot of your bed, while you paced.
“This is going to be awkward,” you warned him, glancing in his direction, and wishing you hadn’t.
He was sitting on the foot of your bed, as directed, legs spread slightly and his elbows resting on his knees. You could see the muscles of his shoulders through the tshirt, and his eyes seemed especially bright, in the dim light from the room.
“Okay,” Bob said easily, and you appreciated that he wasn’t rushing you. Maybe he was starting to understand that this was something you were working through, rather than something he had done.
You switched directions, walking the length of the room, and then the length again.
You had to say it.
You’d just have to say it, and that would explain it, and then it would be out, and then you could figure out how to move forward. Bob was a problem solver, like you, and you were both smart enough to figure this out. You were also both adults. You could just say it.
You stopped in front of him, and Bob sat up a little straighter, like he wanted to be sure he was being respectful to the weight of whatever you were saying. God, he was such a good person, why did you have to be such a creep.
“Iknowaboutbullriderrhett,” you said in a rush, clasping your hands in front of you. The words seemed to echo around the room and you stared at Bob, waiting for him to react.
He didn’t, not really.
He nodded, slowly, and you watched him process the day through the lens of your revelation.
“So, you’re disappointed it’s me,” he said, like he was clarifying, and you shook your head.
“What?” you asked, confused, and Bob shrugged.
“Like if you were expecting a ranch hand from Wyoming, I get it, it’s weird that it’s just me.”
You blinked. “That…that’s beside the point; I feel guilty, like this is a weird invasion of privacy, and isn’t that what you should be asking, anyways, is if I’m going to tell anybody? I won’t, but–”
Bob shook his head, his expression still pretty guarded. “Whose opinion do you think matters to me more than yours?”
And how the hell were you supposed to respond to that?
“What?” you managed again.
Bob looked at you.
It was maybe the longest uninterrupted eye contact you’d ever had, and you weren’t sure if it was because he initiated it, or if something was different. But it made you curious, it made you stop rambling, it made you be still, and let Bob look, because you liked how he was looking at you.
He smiled, that familiar, bashful, expression, and it calmed you slightly.
It wasn’t like there was a demon possessing your friend, it wasn’t a dark secret, it was just a part of him that he didn’t bring out at work. His smile reminded you that you knew him, that you trusted him.
Then his head fell to the side, his eyebrows lowering behind his glasses, his expression turning inquisitive as he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”
It was still Bob.
But his voice was lower, his voice was softer and you knew that voice, but seeing it fall from petal pink lips was a revelation and you shivered. You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down over your palms, hoping you could disguise it, but Bob saw it anyway.
Of course he did.
He could calculate projectile trajectories while at supersonic speed; of course he could see when his voice made you shiver. The expression on his face turned smug, and that was new, that was nothing you’d seen before and you were pretty much infatuated with it immediately.
Objectively, Bob was the best.
You knew it, everyone knew it. This was maybe the first time you’d seen him look like he knew it, and something like pride blossomed in your chest at the thought that it was because of you.
“I’m not disappointed,” you said honestly, and Bob smiled fully.
That was how he should always be, you decided, proud of himself, pleased by you.
He pushed himself off the bed.
He walked towards you slowly, slow enough that you could tell he was giving you time to back away, or tell him to stop, but you sure as shit weren’t going to do either.
Instead, your head tilted back as he came to stop in front of you.
“We have two options,” he said, almost conversationally, like you weren’t this close to melting into a puddle at seeing this side of him. “One: I go back to my room; we’ve learned something new today, but we go on like normal. Or–”
“Or,” you chose, not waiting to hear what the second option was. “Whatever ‘or’ is, that’s the one I want.”
It truly didn’t matter; if the choice was him walking out the door or not, you wanted whatever made him stay.
He huffed an exhale of a laugh, a soft sound that you’d heard a dozen times but it still made your breath catch. You’d grinned fondly when you heard it over comms, after Callie calmly roasted Jake, you’d shivered when you heard it in your headphones, but now that Bob was physically in front of you, you thought this was the best iteration of it.
“What do you like?” he asked softly, and it felt like a loaded question.
Like maybe he was asking which audios, or maybe the themes, or if him, in front of you, was enough. The room felt suspended, like someone had paused the film of your life and you could see everything outside of yourself. The heat in Bob’s eyes, the way his fingers, held loose at his side, twitched slightly, like he wanted to reach for you. The way your own breath caught, like you were careful not to break a spell, like you wanted it to never break.
You kissed him.
You probably could’ve been more graceful about it, but he was standing just there, and you needed to know, needed to feel him against you. You reached for his arms, your hands grasping above his elbows to pull him down and press yourself closer.
He was so soft.
The moment your lips brushed over him, you felt him bending, moving. His glasses bumped into your nose as he adjusted and then his hands were on your waist, spreading over your back and how had you never noticed how big his hands were? They felt huge, and his chest was strong and warm as he pulled you into him.
You could smell his shampoo, something earthy and sweet, and it was intoxicating how pure it was. He didn’t feel pure. He felt hot, kissing you back with an urgency that stole your breath away. Bob kissed you with certainty, with earnestness, and you were obsessed.
You pulled back, staying in the cradle of his arms, needing to be this close when you answered the question he’d asked. Long lashes fluttered against the tops of his cheeks as you broke the kiss, and Bob pulled in a long breath through his nose. When he opened his eyes, the blue of them was so bright, cutting. You didn’t know how he held it all, his sharpness and softness, gentleness and intention.
“Can I show you?” you asked.
He blinked, the motion slow, as he looked between your eyes, trying to focus with you so close. You saw the corner of his mouth turn up in that bashful smile, and his arms around you tightened slightly.
“Show me,” he said, your question but now a command, and your mouth went dry.
His voice sent a flush of heat over your skin, and whatever he wanted, you’d say yes, for this man who was your friend and your fantasy, and asking you so nicely.
It amazed you how you didn’t feel nervous.
This was arguably the most intimate situation you’d found yourself in in a hot minute, but instead of nerves or anxiety, you could only think of how much you wanted Bob to see how much he affected you. From that first moment you’d met him, to the crush you’d packed away, to the voice that haunted your dreams, you wanted him. And you wanted to see how that would affect him.
You walked over to the sink, grabbing the vibrator from where you’d left it after you cleaned it this morning. Bob walked back over to the bed, taking up his original post at the foot of it, but his eyes never left you. He toed off his sneakers, and you slipped out of your pajama shorts, leaning over to arranging pillows against the headboard.
You climbed into the bed and rested your back against the pillows, nudging Bob’s thigh with your toes before you bent your knees. He turned himself to face you, his long legs unfolding outside of yours. It was like he was being careful not to touch you, and you liked that this was how it was going to start– just his voice and your pleasure. You hoped once he saw what a tight string was tied between the two, maybe he’d get a little more involved. A part of you wished that you’d deepened the kiss earlier, but it was just as well to have the anticipation of it.
It was ridiculous that you were already turned on.
You’d had eight hours to come to terms with the fact that Bob was Rhett, but as he sat across from you, it was like his gaze was scorching you. His bright eyes ran over you hungrily, and you rolled your neck, enjoying being the object of his gaze.
You’d been bold when you suggested it, but now the silence of the room seemed to stretch. You wondered if you should ask Bob to talk, or if that would be weird. Bob looked at you, his damp hair falling in front of his glasses again, and he brushed it aside absently.
“Is this where you lay, when you listen to me?” he asked, his eyes tracing over the simple bed, the regulation bedding, the pillows you’d brought in to spruce it up. His voice was low, curious, and now that you were listening for it, you could hear the traces of a drawl, hanging on the edges of it.
You nodded, unable to look away from him, and his nose flared slightly at the confirmation.
“You’re so pretty,” he said, and it washed over you. It was such a simple compliment, but the truth of how he said it, like every fiber of his being meant it, warmed you.
“God, thinking about you…” he trailed off, “just lying here, looking like this…getting off to my voice…do you touch yourself first? Pet that pussy before you use your toy?”
Your mouth actually fell open hearing Bob Floyd say ‘pussy’ so casually.
And he said it sitting in your bed, his eyes on you, his voice dropping into a deep drawl and yeah, you were going to do whatever he asked.
You shifted slightly, a hand falling between your thighs to press over your clothed cunt. You cupped yourself, loving the way Bob’s eyes followed your hand with rapt attention. The kiss, his words, his eyes…you weren’t wet yet, but you could feel your body warming, turning towards Bob.
“Love that you take your time with your pussy, warm her up, slow. ‘s not a thing you have to rush, not when the building feels so good. And I bet you feel so good, don’t you, so soft and warm…”
It didn’t feel slow, not with how hot Bob’s voice was. How good it felt to have him in the room with you, not just an empty echoing in your ears but physically here. You continued to tease yourself over your panties and you felt when they grew damp, when your arousal slowed your fingers, made the fabric slick.
“Fuck,” Bob breathed, and you whimpered.
The sound was involuntary, a reaction to seeing sweet, wholesome, Bob swearing over the sight of you. It made you feel regal, and if you had to guess, pulling sounds out of you made him feel the same. At the sound of your whimper, Bob’s eyes dropped to your mouth, and you watched the tip of his tongue push through his lips, as he wet them.
“Ah, you sound so good, too, I can’t believe–” he broke off, laughing quietly. “Can’t believe I’m jealous of my own damn self. How many times have I made you cum, and I’ve never gotten to see it?”
It was your turn to laugh, not quite willing to reveal how much you listened to BullRiderRhett.
“That many, huh?” Bob’s voice was smug, and it was such a good sound on him. You ground your wrist over your clit, pressing into the hard bone, craving the friction.
“Take your panties off,” he said, “touch yourself, not the vibrator yet.”
You followed his instruction, pulling up your legs to peel off your panties and resettling. You extended a leg down the bed, pressing inside of Bob’s long leg, as you trailed your hand between your thighs. At the first brush of skin against your sensitive folds, your head tipped back against the headboard.
It was just your hand, but with Bob here, it felt like it was almost his. It was his bidding at least, and you explored yourself leisurely, dragging your fingers through your wetness.
“Yeah, that’s right, bet you feel so good,” Bob said, his voice so low. “Feel yourself, sweet girl, tell me how it feels.”
You gasped, your hips rising in a pavlovian response to the endearment. It was somehow even more overwhelming when it was Bob who spoke it over you, here, in the flesh. When he could see that your skin prickled, that your breath caught, in response to him.
“Say it again,” you whispered, hoping he’d understand, and when you looked back at him, the expression on his face was one of adoration and hunger, awe and need.
“Sweet girl?” he asked gently, but his eyes were so dark. “You like being that for me, don’t you? My sweet, sweet girl.”
You nodded weakly, your fingers suddenly not enough. You rubbed over your clit, trying to stop the truth from spilling out of you as heat fanned out through your body from your touch.
“Yours,” you corrected weakly, and you scrambled for the vibrator and switched it on, using the intense humming of the toy as an excuse to hide from Bob’s reaction to your admission.
You felt one of his hands wrap around your ankle, and his long thumb stroked from your heel up to the joint. It was the perfect touch, and just grounding enough to keep you from being overwhelmed by the vibrations.
“You sound so pretty,” Bob murmured, “those little whimpers you make, fuck.”
Were you whimpering?
You felt like you noticed everything a bit too late, too loud. You realized you were pulling the vibrator over your cunt in a mimicry of the strumming motion Bob’s thumb was tracing on your ankle, and your hips canted up. Pleasure swirled in you, hot and tingling, but you felt something missing.
“Bob,” you panted, god, how were you already panting, “I need–”
You turned the toy higher and broke off, writhing.
“Darlin’, love you saying my name like this,” Bob drawled, and it was a proper drawl now, and how he said darlin’ made you feel like you might combust. “Can’t believe I get to see you like this, you look so good…knowing this isn’t your first time working yourself to my voice, makes me so damn jealous.”
You whined, pressing the vibrator more firmly against your skin, your hips starting to grind into it.
“Tell me,” you asked, your voice reedy, and Bob huffed a laugh, like you didn’t even have to ask. He ran a hand over his thigh, coming to rest at the seat of his sweatpants and you bit your lip as he adjusted himself through the thin fabric.
“So damn jealous,” he repeated, “thinking how many orgasms I’ve missed. How many times you came when I asked, how those thighs would tremble as you fucked yourself thinking of taking me…fuck, honey, you’ve heard me cum, and I’ve never–”
A moan pushed its way past your lips, as you realized that the groans and grunts and needy noises that you got off to weren’t incorporeal: they belonged to Bob.
You looked down at the foot of the bed where Bob was watching you greedily. His eyes roamed over your spread legs, the twitches in your thighs, the slackness in your jaw, and you looked at him too. His pale skin was flushed, color in pink splotches high on his cheeks, and his lips were parted. His chest rose and fell as he drew in deep breaths, and when he shifted slightly, you moaned again.
“Can you touch yourself?” you asked, almost shy, wanting to see him. You felt good, so insanely good, but the thing you’d always loved about the Rhett audios was how much pleasure it sounded like he was getting too. There was something so hot about knowing you were the root of someone else’s desire and pleasure, and you wanted so badly to be that for Bob.
“You’re gonna have to wait just a little longer, sweet girl,” Bob said, but he ran a hand over the thigh of his sweatpants, adjusting himself again, and your hips bucked up of their own volition. You guessed he was wearing underwear under his sweatpants because you couldn’t see an outline, but the idea of his dick hanging that far down his thigh had your mouth watering.
“Wanna see you,” you protested, hearing a sound like a pout in your voice and Bob’s hand on your ankle tightened. He looked at you hard, and you knew he was gambling, trying to decide if he wanted to play a card.
“I know, sweet girl,” he said, licking his lips, “but you have to earn my cock.”
Your eyes rolled back and your core clenched at those words. How many times had you heard Rhett tease you with that? But it was different now, because Bob was here. Because he was real, and his cock was real, and however many times you’d wondered about Rhett, your curiosity could be sated in Bob.
When you lifted your head to look back at Bob, he was slackjawed, watching you writhe. You were practically humping the toy, chasing an orgasm that suddenly felt so much closer. The vibrator felt stronger than normal, or maybe you were more sensitive, but you felt your climax building, and your thighs started shaking.
“I wanna see you,” you repeated, and it sounded pathetic, but it was true, you did. In a moment, this had switched from getting off in front of your friend to needing your friend’s dick, and you didn’t know how Bob knew it but he did.
He readjusted his grip on your ankle and before you could react he pulled.
You slid down the bed, your thighs parting around where he now kneeled; he braced himself over you, and you whined, needing his touch. He kissed you, his mouth wide and plundering, slanting his lips over yours. You moaned into his kiss, so different from the soft gentleness of your first embrace. This was Bob kissing you, and his tongue delved into your mouth and you opened for him.
“I’m too greedy for that, sweet girl,” he whispered, his lips against yours. “I know if I get between these thighs I’m going to lose myself, and I want to see how much you want it. I wanna be here, fully here, the first time I get to see you cum.”
He reached down, and you felt his hand trace over yours. You’d nearly dropped the vibrator when he pulled you down the bed, but now Bob tightened your grip, and guided it back to your cunt. You keened as the vibrator pushed between your folds, and Bob followed your lead, wanting to see how you fucked yourself for him.
It was better with him.
His strong hand bracketing yours, his other at the back of your neck, holding you steady. His hand was on yours but he brought his face close to yours again, and you drank in the reality that he was here, this close, holding you. His breath was hot against your skin, and his glasses were fogging up from how hard you were breathing.
“So are you gonna let me see it, darlin’?” he asked against your skin, and that voice, coupled with his touch, nearly had you there. “You gonna come for me, let me see what it looks like when my sweet girl gets off with just my voice and the toy we’re using on her? You’re almost there, honey, I can see it, come for me come on now–”
He sounded so good.
His voice was perfect and soothing and it felt like a dream but it wasn’t, it was real. He was holding you, feeling you, breathing the same air and working you. You’d never been so aware of your body and how it was tuned towards someone else. You cried out his name as you came, your back arching and your free hand fisting in Bob’s tshirt, reminding yourself he was there, he was there, he was there.
You felt like you were floating.
Pleasure coursed through your body and you could feel it pulsing in your fingertips, beating in your heart. You became slowly aware of the room around you. The air felt cold against your sweat-dampened skin, the hum of the refrigerator was the only noise other than your hard breathing. Bob was still over you, and he’d pulled the vibrator away from you, switching it off without really looking, running a soothing hand over your hip. The hand at the back of your neck was firm, holding you tightly so you could feel him.
“How’re ya doing, sweet girl?” he asked softly, and you felt him press a kiss to your cheek. “Did that feel good?“
You hummed in agreement, words still beyond you. His voice was so gentle, but had a raspy edge, like he was thinking over the last several minutes, holding them in his mind.
“You did such a good job for me,” he murmured, and you turned into his touch.
He was like sunshine, wasn’t he?
Just warm, and good, and you wanted to bask in him and his light like a dryad. His eyes darted away once he realized you were looking at him, and it made your heart skip a beat, that he could somehow be shy after coaxing you through one of the hottest orgasms of your life.
You were trying to think of how to say “your turn” in a way that wasn’t corny or cringey, but what you came up with was, “Can we keep going?”
Bob’s eyes snapped back to yours, and the world seemed to pause for a moment, hovering. Waiting, hoping, and Bob’s chin dipped, just slightly, and all was right.
“Baby,” he said, in the low, perfect, voice, “I’d like nothing more.”
When he kissed you, you were both smiling, somewhat giddy, and any nerves that had gathered during that pause dissipated, as you kissed his smile-thinned lips.
You shifted slightly, pushing yourself back up the bed and pulling Bob with you.
He moved easily, his long body spanning over yours, pressing you back into the mattress with the most delicious pressure. His hands were wandering, then, delicate fingers tracing over your sweatshirt, and when he lingered at the hem of it, you pushed him off. You didn’t want to be patient, didn’t want his chivalry, and so you pulled your sweatshirt over your head before you had time to second guess yourself.
The way Bob looked at you, you wished you’d done it sooner.
His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip as he stared at your chest and you pushed yourself off the bed by your shoulders, so you could reach behind you and undo your bra. The moment the garment fell off, Bob’s hands were on you, his wide palms cupping your breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, humming in the back of your throat as his fingers explored you. You felt the bed shift as he moved, and you gasped when a warm breath ghosted over your bared skin.
Bob kissed down from your sternum, wet kisses over you, and by the time he reached your nipples, he was practically lapping at your skin. You whimpered as his mouth closed over your nipples, his tongue swirling over you as his hand teased your other breast. When he hummed, you felt it all over, the soft vibration over your skin.
“Bob,” you gasped, and he moaned.
“Ya sound so pretty,” he whispered into your skin, “somehow better than I imagined.”
Your breath caught as his mouth moved to the valley between your breasts, and he laved the same attention to the other. He couldn’t have meant that how it sounded. As incomprehensible that this was happening, it was wilder still to think that he had imagined this, as you had.
“You thought of me?” you asked, your own voice sounding nearly breathless.
“Honey,” teeth grazed over your nipple, and Bob chuckled, that beautiful low laugh. “Who do you think I’m talkin’ to when I make those audios?”
His lips closed over you again, but the swirling of his tongue wasn’t enough to distract from the words he’d just uttered.
He wasn’t done, either.
“Y’know how many nights I’d wondered about the taste of your skin,” he murmured into it, “or what your tits would feel like in my hands? What sounds you’d make when I kissed you, how soft you’d be, everywhere? If you’d cry, or moan, or laugh when you came, or how you’d say my name…”
Your hand wound back into his hair and you pulled him back up to your mouth. This kiss was desperate, so much unsaid between the both of you. So much longing, so much wondering and now it was here. You couldn’t explore each other fast enough, and you were clawing at his clothing, trying to feel as much of his skin as possible. Bob was just as eager as you were, pulling off of you to shuck off his tshirt and sweatpants, and you reached for his glasses.
He blinked at you slowly as you pulled them off of him.
This sweet man.
He was so focused on you, his eyes so intent even as he struggled to focus, and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. You leaned over to place them carefully on your nightstand, and when you came back to the bed, Bob’s arms settled around you in the most comforting embrace.
You loved the feeling of his skin.
He was so soft, pale skin covering deceptively strong muscles, and you were obsessed with the dichotomy. Your hands greedily traversed over his broad shoulders, thick biceps, taut stomach, and when you got to the hem of his boxers, you felt his breath catch as he shifted over you.
Fuck.
You’d thought it might’ve been a trick of the light, or a trick of sweatpants, some kind of trick, but under your hand, Bob felt hung. Your fingers rubbed over the bulge in his boxers, and Bob’s head dropped to your shoulders.
“We don’t have to–” he started, and broke off when your touch reached the end of him. You were just tracing the shape of him, but your breath caught when you felt his fat head, the cleft at his tip, even through the thin fabric.
“We do,” you said, swallowing quickly, not even trying to hide the way your thoughts were racing, “I really hope you have a condom, Floyd, because we really, really have to.”
He huffed, and then he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pushing himself off you and reaching down to feel around the ground for his sweatpants. You loved that he had a condom on him – not because it meant that he was expecting this, but because it just confirmed for you that Bob was the type to look at birth control as shared responsibility, not just a matter of whether a gal took the pill or felt like risking going without. He fumbled for a moment, and you couldn’t help yourself.
While he was distracted (admittedly, this was probably a task you could have thought of while he still had his glasses on) you leaned over and traced your tongue over his collarbone. He smelled so good, and you could just taste the salt of his sweat. Bob’s breath grew ragged, and you loved the sound of it, kissing up his neck and finding that tempting spot where you could feel his pulse. You loved how frantic it was, loved the steadiness of him.
He found the condom.
You shifted back to your elbow, watching with blatant interest as he shoved his boxers down his thighs, tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his dick.
Holy. Shit.
He looked like a work of art.
A beautiful flush had worked its way across his chest and throat, the tendons on his arms and hands stood out in stark contrast, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his cock. He really was that big.
“What is it?” he asked quietly, and your eyes darted back up to his face to find his brows furrowing slightly, since he couldn’t read your silence or your expression.
You pushed yourself up to kneeling on the edge of the bed, Bob still standing beside it, and reached for him. He stepped into your embrace easily, mollified by the shared warmth between your bodies, as you reassured him with soft kisses wherever you could reach.
“I thought it was a line,” you admitted, somewhat embarrassed at how wantonly you’d just been staring at him. “Just a cliche ‘oh, you want to choke on this big dick’, but…but you’re actually, you know…”
Bob smiled, somehow bashful, as you pitched your voice lower in an approximation of Rhett’s drawl.
“Is that an offer?” he asked, and oh you liked this side of him– teasing, relaxed, a little cocky.
And the thought of choking on him…it was a really great fantasy. He’d hurt your jaw something fierce, but you wanted to see if you could draw those breathy whimpers out of him. Figure out what your tongue could do to him, see how much he could take, push him a little further, and make him cum down your throat.
“Honestly,” you said, and yeah, your throat was dry just from the thought of it, “I really want to try that, sometime.”
At your tone or your words, you couldn’t be sure, Bob’s hips pushed forward slightly. With the height difference of you kneeling and him standing, his cock brushed against your ribs. You were both suddenly so aware of him, his thick cock resting between you, and Bob’s hips pushed forward again.
“You’re so soft,” he murmured, and his hips slid back, slowly. His hands were on your waist, holding you still as he ground against you. Your mouth fell open at the heavy motion, the promise of it, and the duration of it.
“You’re so big,” you whispered, another truth that should’ve sounded like a cliche, but instead was just a fact.
“You’ll fit me,” Bob said, with such confidence and certainty that suddenly you didn’t care if it was in your mouth or between your legs, you needed him in you.
“Please,” you asked, and Bob groaned, actually groaned, like you asking was the best thing he’d ever heard. His hands were so tight on your waist, like he needed that control and you knew how you wanted him.
You leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips, and then turned back to the bed, your hand sliding up towards the headboard, your ass lifting like an invitation. Bob wasted no time, climbing back over the bed and shifting you so you were lengthwise on the bed again, and then draping his long body over yours. Your head rolled between your shoulders; he felt so good. Warm and strong, and all around you, and then you felt his big hand between your thighs. He opened your thighs gently, and then a thick finger traced between them.
“So wet,” he murmured, so close to your ear, and you shivered. “You’re gonna feel so good around me, aren’t you?”
You nodded, words failing you in your anticipation. But Bob wasn’t in a rush. His calloused finger teased through your folds, smearing the remnants of your orgasm up over your clit, playing with your cunt, until you were shaking.
You whimpered, your arms trembling as you braced yourself on the bed. You pushed your hips back into his touch, and you felt Bob’s breath shutter from his chest pressed to your back, but he didn’t move any faster.
“Don’t rush me, honey,” Bob said, his voice low, and you tried to hold still, you did, but his teasing was too much.
He alternated between spreading your folds, circling your clit, dipping his finger into you just enough to tease you, then pulling back entirely. You felt like you were aching, desperate for him, needing him. Bob spread you open with one hand, and you felt his thick head at your entrance, seeking. You saw the hand that wasn’t playing with your clit drop down to the bed beside yours as he braced himself, and you pushed your hips back, weakly.
“Ask me nicely, sweet girl,” he said, his voice so low, and you swear you nearly came on the spot.
“Please,” you managed, your voice sounding entirely too weak, “please, please, I need to feel you–”
You broke off when he pushed into you.
A steady, overwhelming pressure as that beautiful, enormous cock pushed into you. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets as he stretched you out, the gentle, even pressure nearly blinding. He was so thick, you felt like you could feel his heartbeat, like you’d been lit on fire, and the only thing you knew you needed was more, more.
Your head dropped to the sheets, even as your hips worked weakly back into his, welcoming him despite the burn.
Bob’s hand covered yours, his thick fingers tangling with yours on the bedsheets, and you felt cherished, you felt wrecked, you felt perfect.
Fuck, he felt so good.
You were full to the point of overwhelmed, and you realized he’d stopped pushing, was fully seated inside you. You felt so connected, so whole, even though you were heaving like you’d run a marathon.
Bob‘s nose traced your cheek, his soft lips kissed your jaw as his breath tickled your ear. “Does that feel good, darlin?” he asked.
You nodded, wordless, it felt like a dream come true. You felt every inch of him in you, every inch of him over you, and it was perfect.
“So,” Bob whispered, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear, “what do you say?”
“Thank you,” you moaned, you’d never been so grateful for anything in your life. “Feels so good, fuck, thank you–”
Bob groaned, and his hips pulled back before he slammed back into you. His thrust would’ve pushed you up the bed, except for his body over yours, holding you steady.
“Sweet girl, it’s like you don’t want this to last long,” he said, almost angry, and the sound of his voice had your eyes rolling back in your head. He sounded so good, he felt so good, he was so perfect, you were so full… “Like you’re trying to drive me mad with this tight cunt, with those sweet little whimpers, you feel so good, baby.”
You couldn’t do anything.
You were a molten mess of heat and driving need, your body aching and craving and sated by the thick cock pressing inside of you. Bob was thrusting so deep into you, his fat cock head prodding against a spot you distantly registered wasn’t made up, but might’ve been, for how perfectly he was hitting it. You weren’t aware if you were making sounds or just lying there, all you knew was how fucking good he felt in you, how you needed him to never stop.
“Feel so full,” you gasped, and Bob pushed into you again.
“Damn right,” Bob muttered, his voice dark, “full of my dick, like you’re fucking meant to be. Gorgeous girl, bent over, taking my cock like you need it.”
You whimpered, clenching around him. “I do, I do,” you babbled, “need you.”
Bob moaned, and it might’ve been the prettiest sound you’d ever heard. How was he real? How could he be this good, this kind, this fucking hot??
The sounds in the room were dizzying.
Bob’s hips slapping into your ass, the squelching sounds where you were joined, your gasps and his breathy grunts. It was perfect, and you felt the heat around you condensing in your core.
He knew, somehow.
The fingers that had been spreading you for his cock, moved to the top of your cunt, teasing over your clit. Your legs jerked, your mouth dropping open as Bob circled your clit, his fingers tracing over it, gently pinching it and coaxing you higher.
“I’m gonna cum,” you panted, heat and need rising.
“Christ, please,” Bob said, his voice so earnest, so dear, as you pushed back into him. “Let me feel it, sweet girl, let me feel this pussy I’ve been dreaming about. Want to feel you milking my cock, so damn good, you can do it, come on…”
He pumped into you once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out, shaking, and then Bob’s hands were on your waist again, holding you up. You moaned his name, trembling and lost, and he held you, ever steady. He kept working into you, his thick cock pressing into you, like he was the only thing tethering you to this pane, and you felt drunk off of him.
“There it was, that was beautiful…fuck, you’re so hot, that feels so damn good. You sounded so gorgeous, sweet girl, you did so well…”
You moaned as his words coaxed you back.
He was still pumping into you, that steady, punishing pace and you were so sensitive but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He felt so strong, so hot, so close to you and you needed it. Needed him. His thick arms cording around you, his strong grip digging into your hips, his fat cock stuffing you, you never wanted it to stop.
“You’re so good,” you whispered, needing him to know. Not just how he felt, or how he sounded, but who he was. How he was, and how much he meant.
Bob’s hips stuttered.
You were aching, you were spent, but you tightened your core and clenched around him.
“Baby,” he groaned, “I’m close you can’t–”
You rolled your hips.
Bob grunted, and then he was moving, faster than lightning. He swept your hands out, pushing you down by your shoulders into the mattress, his body draping over yours. You turned your head to the side, and like he knew, he was there, kissing you.
It was sloppy, it was messy, but your lips and tongue tangled together, like you both needed the sweetness of a kiss to balance the savage way Bob’s hips were fucking into you.
Each press of his hips ground your pussy into the mattress and the pressure was so fucking unreal. You moaned into him, and Bob seemed drunk off the sound, off of you. You were so overstimulated, so out of your body that pleasure was the only thing that made sense. Only the way his hips rubbed your clit into the mattress, only the way his cock was stroking into the deep part of you, only the way he was panting against your lips.
“You’re everything,” Bob whispered, just a breath away. “So much better, so much – fuck, you feel too good. Will you come for me again, sweet girl? I want to feel it so bad, need another one from you, can you do that for me?”
You shook your head, wrung out, but you felt it building anyways. Fuck, how was that possible? But Bob’s thrusts, the pressure on your clit, the weight of his warm body, the need in his eyes, it was driving you higher.
And then.
And then he got close.
He broke off from the kiss, his thrusts growing almost frantic. Each breath he drew ended on a gasp, a soft whine that reached deep into your gut and set off something primal. He was fucking into you but he was whimpering, and you knew he needed it, needed you, like he said. He moaned, a needy, beautiful sound, and before you could feel his orgasm, yours broke over you.
You collapsed into the mattress, Bob covering you, and you distantly heard him getting louder as your thighs shook. He sounded so pretty, those sweet moans and the desperate gasps driving you mad. The world was just molten heat, desperate thrusts, echoes of whimpers and you faded into the vacuity of it.
When you came back, you were on your side.
You were drenched in sweat, you both were, and a sheet was covering you from the cool room. Bob had taken off the condom, you noticed absently, and had pulled your sheet up over both of you, tucking you into his chest. His arms were warm around you, and when you exhaled, you watched the blond hairs on his forearms blow back and forth.
“How’re you doing?” Bob asked softly, and you could weep. It was him, so familiar, so gentle, and so much better than any recording, any fantasy, anything. Your arm swung halfheartedly in his direction.
“You jerk,” you sighed, “you’ve ruined my subscription.”
Bob chuckled, the bed shaking with his deep laugh. “Think you can content yourself with the real thing?”
You shifted, turning to face him. In the dim light of the room, he somehow still managed to look like an angel. His soft eyes were unfocused, his mussed hair was snarled from your fingers, and he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.
You leaned over to kiss him, Bob’s lips already thinning on a smile. “I think I can manage,” you said.
//
tagging: @withahappyrefrain @cheekymcgrath @mxgyver @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @callsign-fangirl @callsignspark @sometimesanalice @daggerspare-standingby @rhettabbotts @teacupsandtopgun @attapullman @yuckosworld @skteaiy @yanna-banana @briseisgone @gigisimsonmars @milesmillergf @katiedid-3 @hangmandruigandmav @3tabbiesandalab @marchingicenotes7 @callsignmedusa @ryebecca @tgmavericklover @cottagecori @becks-things @sorchathered @mulletmcghee @straightforwardly @high-speed-r @rcmupout @purelyfiction @fairyheart @sunsetsimpsblog @angelbabyyy99 @cremebruleequeen @marvel-djarin @sgt-barnesveins @supernaturaldawning @echo-ethe @sunlitide @alilstressyandlotdepressy @hughesvolpe @aczhang777 @saltsicklover
chances are high i'll do a part 2/followup with both of them recording an 'overheard' audio...let me know! comments and reblogs are the surest way to make that happen 💙
#bob fucks#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd smut#robert bob floyd#misskielwrites#International Bob Floyd Fucks Month
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I love your stories, they are fantastic and feed my daydreams to a intensely gratifying degree.
I am curious if you would entertain the idea of writing an Alastor and fem reader as battle partners and occasional lovers. She’s a fox demon that has been around for centuries and is very powerful. She is indispensable to him in battle but she helps him take care of his baser urges especially during his rut.
I beg you!
Thank youuuuuu
note: i kept this rather suggestive hehe.
Alastor x Kitsune! Fem Reader
“So what’s with the fox? Didn’t take smiles to be much of a dog person” Angel said to Husker as the black fox trotted past him, walking towards said demon sitting on the sofa, rubbing against his legs before jumping up and curling up in his lap.
Husker shook his head, grumbling “Listen, that’s one thing you don’t want to know about. Trust me” he chugged at his bourbon.
Angel rolled his eyes at the cat demon, “Oh c’mon! Tell me! What do Mr. Fancytalk need with a pet? ” He whined. Husker ignored him, thinking sooner or later the spider will figure it out.
Charlie and Vaggie entered the lobby, overhearing the conversation. Angel turned his sight to Vaggie “Hey Vagina do you know the deal with the strawberry pimp’s pet?”
Vaggie sighed ”When Alastor manifested in this realm it was absolute chaos! some have speculated what unimaginable forces enabled him to rival our worlds most ancient and destructive evils. But one thing for sure, he holds an unpredictable source of danger, the kind we shouldn’t risk getting involved with unless we want to end up erased!” Angel deadpanned “that’s doesn’t really answer my questions toots”
Vaggie pointed towards the red demon, at the black fox “rumor has it the fox is the reason he’s so powerful”
Angel sucked his teeth “Ill believe when I see it”
———————————————————————————-
You napped on the bed of your shared room as Alastor sat out on the balcony enjoying the view of Pentagram City.
A loud BANG! Was heard and suddenly there was a massive hole knocked into the hotel.
A giant blimp was outside the hotel and a snake demon was declaring a fight against Alastor.
Alastor joined Charlie and the others at the entrance of the hotel, very much amused at the pathetic display.
”Who are you?” He asked
”I am the great Sir Pentigous! Your fiercest enemy!…We literally battled last week”
Alastor tilted his head, leaning on his cane “Well you would think I remembered you”
The snake demon hissed and went to charge up his weapons.
”Uuugghh Alastor? Aren’t you gonna do something about him? Aren’t you suppose to protect the hotel or something?” angel asked, hands on his hips. Alastor grinned ”Aah yes” he snapped his fingers.
Thick, inky black smoke billowed from the ground as a thunderous growl was heard.
”Holy fucking hell!”
A Giant beast emerged from the ground and immediately took the bump into its mouth and shook like a dog would a toy.
Several appendages swirled as the beast tore into the machine like it was paper.
The snake demon fell to the ground, trying to back away as the massive black beast snapped its sharp teeth at him, making him cower.
”now now my dear you’ve done enough” Alastor said, causing everyone to look at him confused?
The black beast huffed before black smoke surrounded it.
Walking out of the smoke, holding the snake demon was a…
”THE FOX???!!” Angel exclaimed
You dragged the demon by his hood, baring your sharp teeth at him as he cowered behind Charlie.
You frowned at Alasto as you turned to him, ears flattening
You hands were at your hips as your tails swirled behind you “You woke me up for that?! Please at least let it be a challenge next time”
Alastor snickered as he pulled you into his side, grin turning Cheshire as you nuzzled him anyway.
Everyone had a puzzled look on their face.
The cute black fox that often roamed the hotel was actually a demon?!
”told you would have found out sooner or later” Husker said.
”A-Alastor w-what?” Charlie stuttered, as Vaggie barged through pointing her spear at you and Alastor.
Your eyes narrowed as you stood in front of Alastor, growling at her, claws flexing in case she made a move. Your tails spiked.
”I wouldn’t do that if I were you” Alastor grinned, peaking through one of your tails
”This darling of mine is that ‘unpredictable source of choas’. Isn’t she a doll?”
————————————————————————————-
“Soooo you two are like a thing? How the fuck? What he own your soul or something?” Angel asked sipping his martini.
You smirked.
You had been with Alastor for a while now. You met the red deer when he first came to hell. He was running a muck in your territory, taking away the souls that you enjoyed tormenting. You, the ‘Kitsune Demon’, would not be intimidated by some newbie. So you fought Alastor.
Who won? No one knows but many often saw the Radio Demon entering and existing your domain without consequence afterwards.
You and the Radio Demon had a very simple relationship. Your ancient power gave him legitimacy in status as well as your presence on his arm.
You were his best weapon in a battle and a great companion.
You might have looked scary, but only the lanky demon had seen you in your most vulnerable state.
You looked so pretty taking his cock and covered in cum.
”No he doesn’t own my soul and a thing? If you mean I warm his bed and keep him in check for the most part? Then yes” you said bluntly, making the spider gawk.
”you fuck that? That makes a lot of sense now” angel mumbled.
Speaking of fucking, you sniffed at the air. Alastor’s rut was approaching. You had to take care of that.
You left the confused spider as you disappeared in a smoky mist.
”Did you know those two get freaky?” angel turned to Husker, making the cat roll his eyes.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor#alastor the radio demon#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#jyoongim#alastor x y/n#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor smut
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Secret Santa - MV1
(just a short one while i work)
Y/N shook the present. She had a santa hat shoved over the top of her Red Bull cap and a pair of chistmassy earrings dangling from her ears. "I can't even begin to guess," she said as she pulled off the red rapping paper.
Inside was a box. The box itself gave no indication as to what her Christmas present was. So, she pulled the box open.
Y/N's expression dropped. And then she pulled the item out of her box, a wide smile on her face. "Thank you, santa," she said and kissed the side of the mug.
The mug itself had a picture of her teammate on it. Max Verstappen with his face pressed up against the glass. Y/N had been on the other side of that glass laughing as Max pulled faces.
"This is fantastic," she said, holding the mug up beside her own head. She kissed the mug again.
"Who do you think it's from?"
Y/N thought about it. She looked at the mug and ran through all of the drivers in her head. "My first thought is Charles, but it might also be Daniel."
"Who are you going with? Daniel?"
"Definitely Daniel."
It was Daniel. The Australian was pretty smug about it, and all. He hadn't been able to speak to Y/N since he first picked out her name.
"Well, thank you, Daniel. I'll be using this every time I want a drink.
***
There was a running theme for presents this year, it seemed. Just like Daniel had got Y/N something with Max on it, Charles had gotten Max something with Y/N on it.
That was the problem with the entire paddock knowing your business.
Max wasted no time in tearing off the wrapping paper. Staring back at him was several pictures of his girlfriend, winking as she stood on top of the podium. It was a picture from many years ago, back when she was in Formula 3, coming second place in the championship.
Max grabbed a hold of the item and held it towards the camera. "Oh my god," he said through a laugh.
It was a speedo, a speedo with Y/N printed on it again and again. "Are you going to use it?"
"Not in public," he said and laughed. "Did she get this?"
"Nope."
Max thought about it. Who on earth would get him this as a gift? He had hoped it was Y/N, buying it for him in the 'hopes' of him wearing it to bed.
But it wasn't her, so who could it be? "I seriously have no idea."
"It was Charles."
"Charles? Oh my god," he said again. "Well, thank you, Charles, I think," he said.
Charles just so happened to be walking past as the filming ended, Max still holding the speedo. "Do you like it?" He asked as he came walking over to him.
"Oh, I love it. I'll send you a picture when I try it on," he said and both men laughed.
***
To bring a short story to a conclusion, Y/N forced Max into a photoshoot in the speedo. Pictures just for her eyes, and maybe for Charles, too.
He posed in the speedo, leaning against the wall and staring into the camera. He didn't smile, but he was trying his best not to. It was no easy task. There were a few times where Y/N got his full, most genuine smile.
Y/N made him pose with the mug, drinking out of it. That she sent to Daniel.
The pictures made their rounds of the group chats, but they didn't go much further. If they ever got leaked, the couple would have been mortified.
All in all, it was a very successful F1 secret santa.
#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen smut#max verstappen x reader smut#max verstappen x you#max verstappen blurb#f1#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 blurb#formula one#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#formula one blurb#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 blurb#mv1#mv1 imagine#mv1 x reader#mv33#mv33 imagine#mv33 x reader
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hey, since you're answering asks, could i ask a favor of you and your followers?
I'm giving a presentation to a couple hundred nurses in a few months about trans healthcare, basically telling them how not to be a transphobic piece of shit, but i don't have a lot of ideas. if any of your followers have anything they'd like to say in my position, could they chime in? they can also send me asks if they want!
thank you so much if you decide to publish this ❤️🔥
For sure, I'll post it! That's such an amazing thing you're doing!
Hopefully, you get some good responses. And good luck when the time comes! I know you'll do fantastic.
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