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#and all i wanted was a shimmer in your shine
rubbcrhosemoved · 6 months
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I still very much treat Fizzarolli and Robo Fizz as two separate people despite the fact that one of them is based and modeled off the original. I always wrote them as being somewhat sentient, able to express themselves but to a degree (example that some can't cry or some can't express other emotions besides happiness, etc). At the core of their programming they all have traits of Fizzarolli's persona but some are altered to either cater to the specific clientele that orders one or the job/obligation they're given. For example Shine and Shimmer differ from Fizzarolli as they're musical idols so their personalities are somewhat different than Fizz's but not by much. Pearl is another example that is different than Fizz but that's mostly because it is missing vital programming in their systems that has manifested into how it acts and perceives things. Its way of thinking is very different to Fizz's, Shine's, Shimmer's and Ollie's. Ollie is probably the one who is closest to how Fizz acts but there is a few slight tweaks to his coding so that he ideally works/worships/loves/etc Mammon.
I could honestly go on but akjenga I fucking ramble too much.
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banditoswift · 1 year
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someone anyone please give me some good bkdk road-trip fics. preferably like hurt/comfort type style, bonus points if other characters are included and it’s like a found family dynamic
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anantaru · 3 months
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— cute things they do unintentionally
including wriothesley, zhongli, neuvillette, diluc x gn! reader
꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, established relationship, neck kisses, lots of physical affection
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— wriothesley + always walks closest to the street
in the early stages of your relationship, wriothesley has shown the first, out of the many following, indications of his overall protective nature towards you— and do not misunderstand him, because obviously he wasn't making it somewhat overbearing.
he knows you are capable of doing things on your own, but he wants to be the one who does them for you instead. it fills him with joy, and the duke finds himself squeezing his eyes shut, indulging in the memories and thoughts and hope that they would never cease to invade his newfound paradise.
so to speak, it's sort of a way to show you his love in a contrasting kind of sense other than telling you his affection through words or physical touch— with his heart-melting gestures and tender warmth, wriothesley will stop to walk for a split second before softly pulling you farthest from the street as he walks closest.
it was silly— and romantic, and there's a drop of silence before you hear him hum in merriment, his eyes sparkling like the stars.
full of feeling, your cheeks were poignant of a flaming prickle, your whole body burned like fire at his touch as you eagerly listen to what story your boyfriend was telling you about, his smile bringing you the most lustrous light when you entangle your fingers into his arm to press his frame against you.
and suddenly, your lips are tingling with the desire to kiss him, his lips as pink as pink delights. what's the sweetest part about it all was that wriothesley wasn't doing any of this intentionally— in fact, it had always come down to the way he has been all of his life, protective and sheltering, benevolent to the people closest to his heart.
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— zhongli + kisses your forehead whenever you meet
"hello, my love," zhongli's face lights up the moment he sees you, and it's a lot more personal by how particularly he smiled at you— because before catching your frame in midst the busy streets of liyue, his facial features were stern and a little frozen, although when he finally finds you, he smiles and it takes away his cold instantly, a slow upturn of his mouth revealing small dimples around his sides.
"i missed you," he admits, and zhongli moves closer before capturing your cheeks in his warm palms, planting a subtle kiss on your forehead as he presses you against his chest firmly— his golden eyes bright enough to make even broken glass glow and shimmer like a treasure on its own again.
you mumble out through a chain of muffled words at the slightly tight embrace of your boyfriend, "i missed you too," and listlessly wrap your arms around his waist, "in fact, i missed you more," you tease as he presses dozen of little kisses on your head.
as much as zhongli would love to hug you for what he sought out to be eternity, he knows he cannot remain like this forever, at least not while being crowded by the people of liyue— although pondering about it more deeply, he figured that theoretically speaking, he could be able to hug you from day to night without letting you go, but people might start looking at you both so that'll be a negative and turn things uncomfortable.
"you know it's impossible for you to miss me more?" he slowly pulls you off his chest before pinching your cheek, "i long for you day and night," as his grin shines in tandem with the dancing joy of his eyes, unable to tear their focus away from you.
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— neuvillette + can't stop worshipping you
after a long, arduous day consisting of responsibilities, you plopped onto the giant, comfortable bed you shared with neuvillette before you felt the mattress slightly dip under the added weight of his body as he climbs over to lean one arm around your frame.
as he does this, his face instantly burns into the nook of your neck before he begins to caress it— obviously in those moments he was content with you, starting with a handful of soft, warm kisses until he could feel you smile, or notice your body heat raise.
it's pretty clear his senses were sharp, you cannot hide anything from your boyfriend, even if you tried.
you yawn out, opening your arms for his body to properly nestle in before wrapping your limbs around his frame to keep him close, "what did i do to deserve this?" you whisper sarcastically, squeezing him a little tighter into you, "is something the matter?"
neuvillette hums deeply before smothering one hand from your chest to your hips, his lips stretching into a lazy smile, creating a swirling haven on his handsome face, "nothing at all, everything is fine," he assures you with another kiss, his hot breath fanning over the dampened skin on your neck.
basking into the comfortable engage of your arms around his frame, he continues, "i have simply missed what's mine, that is all,"
"and you deserve this," you hear him mumble, "each and every day to be admired and loved,"
he places a kiss on your shoulder, the softness of his lips compelling, "i want to give you this," as he slowly continues to slide his lips over your collarbone, full of passionate crescendos.
your skin trembles and goosebumps arise on your neck as you unwind to his skilled. tender interludes, precisely in neuvillette taking care of you, shooting you a gentle smile before he searches for your lips next.
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— diluc + likes to hold your hand all the time
it doesn't matter where the both of you were or what activity you participated in, because for neither diluc nor you this was something out of the ordinary anymore and began to become a necessity— like breathing, he required your touch, and his heart fluttered every time he felt your energy invade his.
your laugh was his favorite sound and your voice was the last tune he needed to hear before he'd close his eyes, always awaiting the flicker of longing in your caress.
but before you have found each other in this relationship, the master of the dawn winery has never considered himself to be an overly touchy individual, in fact, he was everything else but pleased whenever someone would become way too comfortable with him and overstep any boundaries.
what's funny about love is that how fast it can change things in someone— beyond looks, touches or shared smiles, there were feelings that only you two were able to understand.
diluc hadn't realized how easy and effortless it can be the moment you meet your soulmate, it's transparent and pure and you cannot get enough of them, it's useless to even try and you want to feel them again and again, until their warmth swathes through your skin and intertwines like dancers in a ballet.
in the beginning, it had started with quick and easy placements of his palm on your back or around your shoulders, but after a while, diluc wanted to turn it a little more intimate— he didn't say anything or mention it to you, but one day at a silent night in mondstadt, when he looked at you, really looked at you, he held your hand, his thumb tracing your knuckles in a silent confession of love and affirmation.
to diluc ragnvindr, the act of falling in love was the acknowledgement that he was in the presence of someone so special that it aches his heart, a journey with unexpected twists and turns— for the first time and in that moment, he knew that you were deserving of love to the fullest, without holding back.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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peachesofteal · 6 months
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Simon discovers something unexpected:
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Light on masterlist
Simon Riley/female reader (single mom)
The first time Simon meets you, it’s on the rooftop of the apartment building in the middle of the morning.
He’s up here for a smoke, his first in hours, his body anxiously craving the nicotine after sitting on a cramped train for too long after the final debrief. His muscles are sore, stitches in his leg bothering him, mind is exhausted, and all he wants to do is smoke a cigarette and then collapse on the bed inside the flat that he hasn’t seen for months.
When he gets to the roof, after climbing four flights of stairs because the bloody elevator is broken, he’s greeted with two surprises. One, there is a garden up here now, multiple raised beds enclosed in sturdy two by sixes, and two… you are kneeling on the brick between them.
You’re on your knees, digging around, dirt smudged on your clothes, purple garden gloves caked with soil. You’re talking aloud too, rooting around in the plants and singing out names of vegetables and their corresponding colors, occasional pulling something green loose and stuffing it in a bag. He glances around the roof, confused, but sees no one but you, your voice carrying on the wind to where he stands by the clunky metal door.
When he gets closer, he realizes you’re not talking to yourself at all, but to a baby. A tiny baby tucked into a carrier, who’s eyes are wide and somewhat tracking your hand movements while you point to things in the garden bed, in the sky, on the ground.
“And this is a parsnip.” You say, brushing some rust-colored earth from the root and turning it in your hand. “They’re not very tasty raw but aren’t terrible cooked.” The baby watches you in awe, little feet and arms kicking and swinging while you smile and nod at them, like you think they understand anything you’ve just said. “Yeah! A parsnip!” You’re smiling, your face is bloody radiant as you nod down to the baby, one of your hands rubbing dirt from your skin onto your pants before you’re reaching out to grab a cloth from the baby’s lap and mopping up something on their chin. The action causes you to shift, your head turning enough to catch him in your peripherals, body tensing like you’ve been frozen, shoulders raising under your ears before you loosen and relax, squinting up at him in the sun. “Hi.” You blink, glancing back down to the carrier. “I uh, didn’t realize anyone else was up here.” He swallows, trying to give you a response, brain fracturing at the seam as it frantically attempts to recall words, civilian words like hello, or hi, or sorry. It’s difficult, because he’s a little distracted by how the light refracting in your eyes, the way it’s shining on your skin and hair, bathing you in the early morning glow like you’re some sort of angel. He’s still a few feet away, but he thinks he can see entire universes in your irises, every color ever imagined shimmering in the rays of the sun.
His brain finally catches up, and his mouth thankfully remembers how to form words.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you.” He’s polite and you shrug, nodding to your little companion.
“You’re not disturbing us. We were just harvesting some vegetables.” You smile brightly, casually stripping off the gloves while you rock up from your knees into a standing position. If the mask bothers you, you don’t outwardly show it, and your posture is relaxed when stand in front of him. “Isn’t that right, Emmaline?” You coo down to the baby, who wiggles in her carrier as a response, face lighting up at the sound of your voice, or her name. He’s not sure. Do you live here? Are you… her mum? The babysitter? Who are you?
You give him a once over, briefly, and he watches your smile shift from genuine to forced when your eyes land on his hands. The smokes. He’s holding a pack of cigarettes in one hand, and you clear your throat, brushing some dirt off the front of your clothes. “We were actually just finishing up.” You bend at the waist to pull the carrier into the crook of your elbow, supporting its weight with your hip, and slide the handles of the bag full of green things onto your opposite shoulder. “Roof’s all yours.” He feels a pang of regret, like he doesn’t want you to go, the sentiment unnatural to him, unsettling. You obviously live in the building, he thinks. But where? Do you lug that carrier up and down the steps all the time, just to get up here? He frowns.
“I can wait.” He tries to stop you, guilt running thick in his veins, and you shake your head.
“It’s lunchtime anyway.” You incline your head to little Emmaline, who’s face is growing a little scrunchy, like she’s upset, and he swallows.
“Alright, then.” You give him another nod, and head off towards the door. He grits his teeth, fingers tensing around the thin carboard in his hand, the little box holding his salvation safely in its grasp, but his eyes slide to where you walk away, and he can’t help but notice the way the carrier lightly bumps against your hips as they sway. Bloody hell.
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notmyneighbor · 1 month
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Let Me in ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 3
Word Count ~ 2.5k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ blood and gore, body horror, character death, minor violence, dubious consent, sexual content
Also available on AO3
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
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You sit on the side of the bed that had once belonged to Francis Mosses.
The comforter and top sheet have already been pulled down. You lean over to slide out of your low heeled pumps, tucking the pair of navy leather shoes neatly under the bed.
There’s a bible on the nightstand. A worn looking copy. Beside it a glass with a shallow amount of water resting in the bottom, the remnant of a late night attempt to quench thirst, perhaps.
The doppelgänger watches your movements. How methodical each action is. Slow and deliberate. You’re stalling.
He settles beside you and the mattress creaks as the springs are compressed. That odd sort of shimmer you’d noticed earlier outside the security booth outlines his frame for a brief moment. A surge of light and color as the skin ripples before settling. They still weren’t completely able to disguise what they were. All hope was not lost.
Your own fate, however, seems sealed. You lie down slowly, carefully. You feel as if you are laying yourself to rest in your own coffin. Turning your face ever so slightly to see if there is any trace of the man that had once slept here, some lingering scent or an indent from his face. Nothing but the fragrance of clean linen. The imposter moves as if to join you but you halt him, your fingers closing over his forearm. Your first time touching him and not the other way around. “Take your shoes off.”
The creature snickers, glancing down at the scuffed oxfords he’s wearing. Overdue for a shine. “What possible difference does that make?”
“It’s respectful. You never put your shoes where someone sleeps.”
“He won’t be sleeping here ever again.”
You inhale sharply, wincing. “Please just do it.” You can’t say why you’re so hung up on this. Only that it seems the right thing to do. A small thing in a sea of wrongs that you’re clinging to like a life preserver.
“Fine.” He acquiesces, bending to unlace them. There is no care in his actions. Just brisk, impatient pulls to undo the knotted ties. Then he is lying beside you. Your heads sharing the same pillow. Francis only used a single one, apparently. Preferring to slumber lying with his head and neck rather flat. You always used two fluffy pillows, minimum.
You can hear the sound of music starting to play, emanating from the resident’s apartment next door.
Mia Stone, perhaps. The blonde teacher who was Dr. Afton’s fiancée. You instantly recognize the musical artist crooning through the walls: Billie Holiday.
I say I'll move the mountains
And I'll move the mountains
If he wants them out of the way
You would have loved to play this record for Francis. You envision trying to dance in the cramped space of the living room, twirling around in his arms. “Did he really like my fragrance?” You know the creature could lie, of course. He’d say anything to manipulate you and get what he wanted. But you have to ask. Your heart won’t let you avoid the query.
The dark eyes of the pretender regard you. You detect no malice or dishonesty there. “Yes,” he says simply.
You close your eyes, sighing. “What else did he like about me?”
“Your smile, gifted once you were certain it was really him. The way you covered your mouth when you laugh, making some little relieved joke when you passed his identification and entry request back to him each day. The strands of hair that came loose around your face as the day wore on into late afternoon when he returned from his route. The—”
“—Stop. Please.” Tears well in your eyes. They didn’t sound like the kind of details the deceiver would create on his own. There was a note of truth to them. Genuine recollections. He truly was all that remained of Francis Mosses. A man that had been fond of you. You could have been with him, if only you’d been a little braver.
“You asked me to tell you.”
“I know. It’s just overwhelming.”
Like the wind that shakes the bough
He moves me with a smile
“Your kind is so fond of music. Your milkman was always humming. I don’t see the use for it.”
The your wrenches your heart. He wasn’t yours. Never would be. “It’s a way to expression emotions. When words alone aren’t enough.”
“Hmmm.” He reaches out and you flinch. “Why are you fighting this so hard? This is what you wanted.”
“I didn’t want Francis to die.” You pause, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Why do you want this?”
”Curiosity. An experiment of sorts. There has never been a union between our kind. Not of this nature. A desire to know what it feels like. To see what might result.”
You shudder. An experiment. Using you like some kind of animal for breeding. A mere whim.
He reaches again and this time you force yourself to hold steady, your chin lifting with a short jerk of defiance. Your hair is his goal. Tucking it back behind one ear. Maybe something the milkman had wanted to do. There’s a sudden softness in the doppelgänger’s eyes. As if the human he’d once been was peeking through at you. You find yourself melting again, your defenses coming down.
I say I'll care forever
And I mean forever
He moves closer to you. Inching over across the white fitted sheet. A thumb strokes away one of the tears that has escaped its prison. He captures the other from the opposite cheek, bringing it to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the droplet. “Salt,” he says, recognizing the mineral.
He kisses you.
You’re not sure if it’s better to think of the man you had loved or not. Was it dishonoring his memory or was it a way to keep him present in some vague capacity? There’s no clumsiness this time. He knows the feel of your mouth. The way to shift against you. Tongue mapping past smooth cheeks and dragging along the carpet of muscle at the base of that maw. Maybe it was better to pretend this was Francis after all. You cup the back of his neck, fingers teasing the edges of his milk chocolate tresses. Curling slightly on the ends. It would be time for a trim soon. Would have been. The illusion you’ve created is crumbling again. Your lips falter, your hand dropping away.
Crazy he calls me
Sure, I'm crazy
Crazy in love am I
“Sweetheart,” the invader murmurs, tasting along your jaw, your neck. “I like the way you smell.” Speaking for himself, not Francis. You hear the sharp intake of air. The hand that had been casually laid across your shoulder slides down until it reaches your breast, gently kneading that globe through the layers of your bra and blouse. “Does this feel good?” His voice is octaves lower than you’d ever heard from the milkman. Slightly raspy and sultry, not unlike the singing voice that permeates through the wood and plaster behind the bed. You don’t dare answer, merely whimpering a little and he seems to take this as an affirmative response.
His hand leaves your breast and finds the top button of your shirt. Always sensible, pure white, part of the uniform standard the company requires. Another threaded plastic disc is pushed through the hole. He works his way down until all those that are exposed have surrendered, the remainder still tucked within your skirt. His fingers part the edges of the fabric encasing your torso, peeling them back to reveal the white satin brassiere beneath. He caresses you briefly through this slick material before tucking inside the cup until he brushes across your areola. Your nipple peaks beneath his ministrations as his lips move back to yours. He is surprisingly gentle, lightly pinching and rolling the aroused tissue. Your body betrays you, responding to the creature’s touch. You should be ashamed, disgusted. Instead you find yourself wanting more.
“Off,” he murmurs impatiently, plucking at your bra before his hand departs your chest. You struggle to sit up and he allows it, watching you pull your blouse free from your skirt and unfastening the cuffs before sliding it off your arms. With a swift gesture borne of long practice you easily pinch and release the hook and eye closures resting along the center of your spine, the cups immediately folding down over the underwire, the straps drooping over your shoulders.
The doppelgänger assists you now, sliding the brassiere off the rest of the way, exposing your chest to him. Your cheeks are pink, flushed like the nipples he’s toying with again, his head bending to suckle at one and a lick of flame sears your core. This is part of the invasive species’ learning process, you think. Taste as important as touch. His mouth moving not with the sole purpose of your pleasure in mind, but as a means to explore flavors and textures. Cataloguing. More of humanity’s secrets unveiled.
There is a song you don’t recognize playing next door now. Muffled voices. You’d had no idea the walls were so thin. Francis had never complained.
You’re shoved back down onto the pillow. His mouth wanders, back up to sample a collar bone, the hollow at the base of your throat, then dips in between your breasts and tastes the skin of your abdomen. You wonder if he can detect the floral soap you’d bathed with that morning, the traces of lotion you’d applied during your hygiene routine.
“I like this,” he says, his breath warm on your body. “You’re so soft. Smooth. Not like…I’ve never taken…” It had often been debated if there were sexes in their species. How they propagated. There was still so much unknown. Was there a reason he’d only chosen men to replicate? Was it simply because he was male himself? You could not explain how you knew it, but there was something distinctly masculine about him. Authoritative. Blunter than a woman would be. A lifetime of being raised to respect decorum had been firmly ingrained in you. Society valuing a woman who knows her place. Taught to be demure, deferring to the wisdom and guidance of their male counterparts. Serving and obeying, like you’re doing now.
The imposter returns his attention to your face. Licking your mouth back open. He likes this, you think. All of what you’d shared thus far, but perhaps the kissing best of all.
The background melody silences and you think you detect the front door opening and closing. You wonder if the couple will be going out to an early dinner. Curious when they find there is no one guarding the building. But not alarmed. Not yet.
Your skirt is being lifted, polyester dragged upward after the copycat’s hasty reach downward to gather the hem. Immediately sliding back down, stroking over your exposed thighs that are clad in nylons that stop midway across each of your upper legs. Nothing fancy, just utilitarian features in a shade of nude slightly more tanned than your own complexion. He nudges against the seal you’ve created by pressing your legs close together. “Let me in, sweet girl.” An echo of what he’d said earlier in an attempt to gain access to the building, now seeking entry into you. You feel your limbs parting for him nearly as promptly as you’d opened the door.
The pretender works his way back up to the fork of your body, teasing along the crotch of the white panties. You gasp and he smiles against your lips. His palm drags over the fabric until his fingers find the elastic waistband and he dips beneath it, running overly the neatly trimmed hair on your pubic mound, following the curve of that padded flesh until your sex is palpated.
Another gasp and a moan escapes you. “So wet,” he remarks, fondling the pink lips, parting the petals with his middle finger to slide through the slick arousal your body is creating, working the lubricant up and down, passing over the hooded nub and then delving back towards your entrance, where more fluid escapes.
It feels good and yet it doesn’t, his fingers too rough and just shy of where you need him. You squirm and wince at the harsh handling of your clitoris and he pauses, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Show me. Show me how you like to be touched.”
You reach down cautiously, guiding his fingers to one side of your sensitive bud, lightly pressing and rolling a fingertip so that your clit is ground slightly against the bone beneath. Alternating now, reaching back down to gather more of your slick before spreading it over that hooded button, a few direct strokes applied before beginning the process again. He replicates your actions and your body responds immediately, a hum of pleasure heating you. You close your eyes and you think of the milkman, the real one, with his kind smile and his tired eyes.
“Francis.” The name escapes your lips and you freeze, the rocking motion of your hips against the imposter’s hand abruptly ceasing. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Alarmed by how easily you’d allowed yourself to give in to the desire, accommodating this make believe passion.
“It’s alright, love. It’s me. I’m here.” His tongue laps at your ear, at the sensitive patch of skin behind it. You shiver and resume grinding against his fingers, letting yourself be deluded once more, your hand curling over his forearm.
“Francis,” you say again, hoping he can forgive you, in whatever form he now occupies, if he is saved as his faith professes he would be, finding redemption and peace, somewhere far from your sinning body that writhes in pleasure from his murderer’s touch.
You push against his hand and he allows it, applying force against the hollow cavity that leads to your womb. “Let me in,” he breathes, and you feel a finger invading your body, shoving through the narrow confines of that muscular tunnel. Withdrawing and spearing again, the digit saturated with your arousal. You moan and lift your pelvis to meet him. Curling inside, massaging that dip of spongy tissue. Crooking each time he enters as if he is leading you forward, beckoning, his thumb drawing circles over your clit. You feel as if you’re on the edge of a chasm, teetering on the rim, about to drop forward into heat and darkness. Keening now. Thighs tremoring violently. Your face turns and your teeth sink into the pillow. “There you go, love. Give it to me. Give in to me.”
The coiling pressure within you snaps and you find release at last, the fabric clenched in your teeth doing little to muffle the sound of your orgasm. You’re drenched in sweat, the aftershocks of your appeased nerves still sizzling through you. The doppelgänger cradles you through all of it, holding you as you ride the waves that exhaust your limbs, making you feel boneless and limp.
“Francis.” It’s a yearning plea, a futile prayer, answered by the thing that is not him, but masquerades as such, crooning to you, whispering false promises, draping you in synthetic affection, a lie you want so desperately to believe.
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inkdrinkerworld · 15 days
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heyyy!!! love your stuff!! i have spencer thing for you! okay hear me out, i so bad want to pepper spencer with kisses!!!! like just imagine covering his face with pecks, and his face goes red!!! and he starts stuttering!! him squeezing his eyes shut super tight and smiling !!!! KSJSOKSJDK I LOVE HIM SM!!!
🥺🥺🥺he’d be SO red!!!
“Spencer you’re being mean to me.” You whine to him as you try to grab his face for a third time.
His hands give yours a gentle redirection and a squeeze.
You’re both on your sofa, dinner baking in the oven and you’re trying to love on him but he won’t let you.
“No I’m not, you’re being a menace.” He laughs at your frown, but his happiness is a distraction and you wiggle your way into his lap and cup his smiling cheeks.
“I just love you so much.” Your lips shine with a pink gloss and Spencer realises too late what your plan is.
You stamp kisses all over his cheeks, nose and lips, giggling madly when you notice him going red.
“Y/n, I love you too,” he says breathlessly, your lips roving to his neck and chest. “Angel.” Spencer’s got a wide smile on his face when you tug the collar of his t-shirt to the side to expose more of his collarbones.
You actually feel his breath hitch at the same time his hands squeeze at your hips. “You’re,” he pauses, smiling when he feels you press another kiss against him. “You’re trouble.” He finally gets out and you laugh.
“You’re so handsome, Spence.” You pull away to admire how red he’s gone and how wide his smile is.
He tips his head off the back of the sofa, catching his breath as you just stare at him. Spencer wills the heat in his body away, very well away of his red he is by how hot he feels.
He doesn’t understand it, but he really is the most handsome man you’d ever met. Especially now that all over his face, neck and chest you can see the shimmering pink lipgloss.
“Thank you,” he sits up again, his hand resting on the back of your head. “Can I have a proper kiss now?”
You squeal and surge forward all to eager to kiss him some more. This kiss is less of a tease than the others have been, but by the time you pull away Spencer is red again.
“God I love you.” You whisper against his lips, eyes warm as you push your fingers into his hair.
“I love you too.”
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luveline · 10 months
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𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
miguel assumes you're mad when you stop initiating kisses and tries to get back on your good side —featuring grumpy but lovelorn miguel and his head-in-the-clouds spider-girl. requested here. fem!reader, 3k.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
"Gàn de piàoliang!" cheers the puppy at the bottom of your screen. Well done.
You smile at him and slide your finger across a lilac candy to make another three-match. 
The music playing from your phone quietens as a text lines the top of the screen. You click it as soon as you recognise the contact picture beside it, your handsome Miguel with a filter over his face that paints rosy pink hearts over his high cheeks. 
Finished. his text says. 
Miguel is a man of little words. Over the phone he talks even less, easier to draw blood from stone than harness a conversation with him that isn't in person. His text demarcates the wall of messages you sent him earlier, not wanting for a reply but bursting to tell him things as they happened. 
You put your phone down carefully. It's one of your most treasured possessions, shimmering and high tech, you can fold it down the middle to fit in your little spider suit pockets, though the amount of charms and beads hanging from it now impedes that particular functionality.
Miguel gave it to you as a gift without any fanfare around the time you started staying in his apartment in the society, and while your bunking with him was supposed to be temporary, the phone is for keeps. You've decorated it accordingly.
The best charm is a beaded translucent jellyfish, and not solely because it's beautiful: Miguel has a matching one that he showcases shamelessly. 
You rush into his neat bathroom and lean heavily on the counter, propping your hand on the faucet to hold your weight as you assess your reflection in the mirror. When you turn your face, your nose shines in the light. 
You decide it's best to wash up. Miguel will be back soon enough. 
You get distracted by skincare, toner pads resting on your cheeks when you hear the door opening. A waste to take them off prematurely, you pat them flat to your skin and meet Miguel in his bedroom half ready. 
"I can see why you didn't text me back," he says, giving you a quick glance from the corner of his eye as he walks past the bed and your waiting phone. He beelines for the kitchenette and disappears around the corner. "What do they do, the squares?" 
"They're calming, I think," you say, following his path from the bathroom to the small kitchen. 
His apartment is big but not huge. The main room is his bedroom, with enough space for a couch and a TV he never uses that comes out of the wall. To the right is a utility closet for storage and a walk-in wardrobe, and to the left lies the kitchen and the bathroom. It takes you all of ten seconds to be by his side. 
Bottles rattle as Miguel opens the fridge. He grabs sparkling water for himself and a fruit tea concoction for you. You hadn't followed him for that, but you accept it anyway. 
He looks tired. Tilting his head back to drink, you eye the stiff set to his shoulders and the way he rolls his arm out, orchestrating an offer for a massage in your head. 
Miguel squints at you. "What?" 
"What?" you ask back. 
He doesn't explain. He screws the lid back on to his water and closes the fridge. 
With his empty hand, Miguel reaches for your face. You stay very still in anticipation of his touch, imagining how he might take your cheek in his hand and pull you close, or perhaps curl thick, long fingers behind your neck and guide your chin up. He can be rough in odd ways, as though he's unaware of his strength. 
"It's slimy," he says in disgust, pulling a toner pad from your left cheek. 
"It's going to make my skin clearer." 
"There's nothing wrong with your skin." True or not, you know it's Miguel's way of being sweet. He takes the second toner pad too, tossing them in the trash with a huff. "That's better. You look normal. Or, as normal as possible." 
"Jerk!" you say through a smile, thinking now's the moment. 
But Miguel hasn't peeled away your skincare to kiss you. He pats a spot of dampness on your cheek away with the back of his hand and turns on his heel, gunning for a change of clothes and a shower, if you know him. "Drink your tea. Did you eat? Me preocupo por ti." 
You sigh and trail after him. "I was waiting for you to come back. It's Vietnamese week in the cafeteria, they're making cá kho tộ. Do you like that? It's sweeter than hake." 
"It's fish?" 
"Catfish. Caramelised catfish." You sit down on the bed, flipping your phone open to play your game while he decides. 
That, and to ignore the inkling of doubt blossoming like mould under heat in your chest. An achy sort of worry… 
Does Miguel not want to kiss you? 
"What's the other option? I don't like sweet foods." 
You knew that already. "You could make pasta?" you suggest. 
"You'd love that." 
"Are you teasing me?" 
Miguel pokes his head out of the wardrobe, and with it comes his naked chest. His muscles are insane, lean tanned stretches of cord pulled taut as he grabs a shirt. "I'm making an observation. You like carbs." 
"Everyone likes carbs, Miguel, especially Spiders." 
"I know, but I don't make anyone else dinner." He's definitely flirting now, his voice playful and soft. "I'll make you pasta if you want." 
Why hasn't he kissed you? Offering to make you dinner, smiling at you just as soon as his face has been pulled through his t-shirt. He's acting as affectionate as a man who'd like to kiss you without pulling through. 
Well, maybe you kiss him too much. Come to think of it, you initiate the vast, vast majority of kisses, and you must kiss him twice a day at least. Miguel clearly favours you, but it's possible he isn't interested in as much physicality as you and hasn't had the heart to say. He likes watching vintage movies at night and half the time you're not interested in those. You haven't said a word about it because things between you are new and you like his being happy watching the things he enjoys. Miguel could be doing the same, allowing hugs and kisses he doesn't necessarily want in order to avoid hurting your feelings. 
A favourite phrase of his cuts through your thinking, "¿Alguien en casa?" Anyone home?
"Oh, sorry, were you not getting enough attention?" you ask him, pretending to be more nonchalant than you are as you open the match game on your phone. 
The puppy barks hello. 
"Ah, you're a cómico now." Miguel sits on the bed beside you in sweatpants, reaching across the sheets to give your arm a shake. "I said, I'll make you pasta if you want pasta." 
"I want what you want," you say honestly. 
He stares at you. You're not sure what he's confused about. "Alright. Did you want it now?" he asks. 
"Yes, serf," you say, laughing when he knocks your phone out of your hand and stands in a dramatised annoyance. 
You play a couple levels of your game to give him space. He's quiet as he washes his hands and gets out the cookware, but he appears curious in the door, rag between his hands. "You're not gonna come and sit with me? I really am your maid." 
Eager for an invitation, you join him in the kitchen. You brace yourself behind you to hop onto the counter and find his hands on your hips, helping you up. 
Miguel meets your eyes as he does, not close but enough to beckon down for a kiss. You think about doing it. He might let you, his straight lashes pointed with his gaze, his eyes a heavy weight where they trace your features unhurried. 
"How come you didn't text me back earlier?" he asks. 
"Oh, I didn't know you were expecting me to. I'm sorry, handsome, I was kind of grody–"
"Grody? I doubt that–" 
"–I figured I'd wash up before you got back." 
"So you were busy?" he asks, returning to the chopping board at the left of the stove. He picks up a glinting-sharp knife. "Not something else?" 
"No, why? Was I supposed to do something today?" 
Miguel begins slicing into a tomato, red skin splitting to reveal greener insides. "No. No, just wondering." 
You lean back against the wall, crossing a leg over your thigh. He's being kind of off. Your first impulse is to try and kiss it better but that directly fights your new theory. Being nice physically is far from your only weapon. 
"Did you have a good day?" you ask, and here's where you'd pull him close or sidle up behind him and twist his hair around your finger. "I was thinking about you a lot. Did the strike mission go okay?" 
"Fine. You didn't come see me, but it was fine." 
You eye him from the corner of your vision. He's still cutting up tomatoes, a pan of olive oil and minced garlic simmering between you. 
"I sent you all those photos," you say. 
One of the Peter's you hang around with got his arm stuck in a window after he said, "Is that a bad idea, do you think? I really wanna try," and Hobie said, "They can't stop you." 
The 'they' being unknown, Hobie was right. No one could stop Peter once he started climbing, but the window could certainly stop him from getting down. You'd sent Miguel pictures of his dangling body up in the atrium like a dark splodge, as well as a blurry photo of your face when you'd accidentally turned the camera. He responded to that one with a heart but the rest he didn't touch. 
"They got him down eventually," you continue, "but I had to stay for moral support! And to feed him popcorn so he didn't starve. Was it peaceful without me?"
"You know I like when you visit me, right?" he asks carefully. 
"Yeah?" 
"Yeah?" he mimics, waving his hand at you. "Can't deal with you. Get the cream from the fridge." 
You eat dinner as you and Miguel tend to do —you talk your way through it happily, smiling and joking, and he puts extra helpings on your plate when you aren't looking. 
The alien quality of what you're doing rears its head briefly. He's trying to stop the quasi apocalypse. You're willing to help, though you'd been more interested in Miguel and getting to know his enigma than your responsibilities. Weird how love makes you want to be better. 
"What was your course like?" Miguel asks, when the dishes have been set aside for washing and you've showered for the night. 
He's talkative tonight. 
"They taught us how to wield a baton," you say, climbing into his bed with a tired sigh. "One girl was crazy about it. She kind of looked like me…" You yawn, looking for his waist as he settles in the sheets and pillows next to you. "You're lucky I got my claws into you when I did. At least I'm not murderous. Much." 
Miguel covers your hand on his ribs. He squeezes your fingers together gently like he's collecting them under his palm for borrowing. 
"You didn't get your claws in me. I'm not easily led." 
"Course not," you snort. You actually agree with him, but he said it too seriously for bedtime. 
Miguel abandons your hand to pull you in, encouraging your head and upper chest onto his, hand coasting up and down the length of your arm lovingly. Firmly, like a massage, but adoring nonetheless. You languish in his touches and rub your lips, still tingling from spearmint, against the collar of his shirt gently. As indirect a kiss as you can manage, practically sick with longing after a day unkissed. 
"Are you mad at me?" he asks into the quiet.
You pause, fingers with a mind of their own as you take a long strand of hair that curls under his ear between them, combing it flat. "Why, have you done something?" you ask, hiding your confusion with a delighted lilt. 
"I've been trying to work that out." Frustration seeps into his voice, roughened syllables drawn tight, "But you're evasive." 
"I'm evasive," you say softly, tilting your head back to meet his eye. "Miguel, why do you think I'm mad at you? I'm not mad." 
Miguel glares at you. Brows furrowed, an especially formidable downturn to an otherwise pretty mouth, he looks as though he wants to start a fight with you, and as though he doesn't believe it. 
"I'm not mad," you insist, sitting up a little. 
"Then…" 
You scrunch your brows at him. "You've been thinking I was mad at you all day? Why didn't you say something, handsome?" 
He might roll his eyes at your pet name if he weren't knee deep in relief. You didn't know being mad at him was something he'd be sad with, and yet there he is lying beneath you, blowing a big enough exhale to ruffle the hair from his forehead. 
Miguel takes your face into one hand. Your eyelashes flutter against his palm like a shuddering butterfly wing as you lean into his touch, more than happy to offer him whatever relief it is he needs while enjoying in the feeling of being close to him. 
"You haven't kissed me all day," he says quietly. "I thought I must've pissed you off, 'cos you're more piranha than girl sometimes, but you weren't acting any weirder than usual beyond that." 
You roll your eyes and hide your face in his hand. He's kidding around, and his thumb rubs over your skin tenderly to prove it. 
"You're not mad?" he asks again. 
You kiss his palm. You kiss his wrist, happy when he knows the moves like a well practised dance, his fingers sliding behind your ear to steady you as you dip down for a kiss. 
It's a good kiss. Warm mouths vying for one another but trying not to seem desperate, Miguel's hand behind your ear growing harsher as you pull a breath against his lips. You press your hand into his pec too hard. 
"Sorry," you murmur, stealing another fast kiss and pulling away. 
You barely feel how uncomfortably you're skewed, you're that happy. 
"Is there a reason you wouldn't kiss me?" he asks. 
"I'm, like, always the first one to initiate and I kinda got it in my head maybe you didn't want me kissing you that much…" You grin at him. "The whole time you're playing twenty questions with me wishing I'd lay one on you. You know you have a voice for more than yelling at people, right?" 
Miguel gets this look in his eyes then, rolling his jaw a touch at the supposed audacity of what you've said. The tip of his tongue works at his canine tooth, his eyebrows rising as he asks, "Oh, is that how you're talking to me tonight?" 
"How else should I talk to you, Miguel?" 
He doesn't bother with swiftness nor a show of strength as he rolls you onto your back. He settles above you with measured movements, a pleased smirk playing on his lips now. His eyes are dark, pupils wide as dimes.
"With compassion, mi cielo," he says.
"Have some sympathy for me," you implore him, wrapping your arms around his waist. It diffuses the tension, though neither party minds, evidenced by Miguel's easy relaxation and your ecstatic mood. Happiness bubbles up like carbonated bubbles, your chest awake with a fizzing excitement. "You really thought I was mad 'cos I wasn't kissing you?" 
He avoids the question. "You think you're the only one who initiates?" he asks genuinely. 
"Why didn't you kiss me, then? When you came home?" 
"Your face was wet." 
"And after when we were eating dinner?" 
Miguel smiles at you. No sarcasm, no stress. He leans down to kiss you chastely, pulling away to say, "I thought you were definitely mad at that point." 
"A kiss would've made me feel better." 
You realise how quiet your bubble of the world really is for that handful of seconds, Miguel holding himself above you, your hands loose behind the broad stretch of his back. 
"You know you can just ask me, yeah? You don't have to worry and wonder how I'm feeling. I'll tell you how I'm feeling if you want to know." 
"Cariño, I always want to know," he says. 
You breathe out slowly. Miguel takes your face into his hand for another kiss, or so you think —he pinches your cheek. 
"And I always want to kiss you," he says quickly, climbing off of you. 
"Where are you going?" 
"I need a drink." 
A break from sincerity. You don't mind that he needs to walk it off as long as he comes back. You stretch out on your back and cover your face with your hands. 
"People think I'm the weird one," you say into them.
A hand clamps around your ankle and tugs you down. You shriek with startled laughter and climb away from him as he lands on top of you, a cold water bottle held to your bare neck. 
"No!" you laugh. 
Miguel laughs in tandem and presses it further down. 
"I really am going to be mad at you if you don't quit!" You yelp as condensation wets your collar. "Miguel!"
"You're a wimp," he says with a bright smile. 
You push him with some enhanced super strength and manage to get the water bottle off of your neck, but Miguel makes up for any differences in strength with enthusiasm and muscle alike, shoving you down. 
You're laughing and pleading at the same time, "Please, Miguel, stop, it's sooooo cold." 
Miguel laughs, dropping the bottle somewhere above your head, covering the cooled stripe of your skin with his big hand. The sound is warming enough, but you let him sweat for a second, content to be doted on. 
He gives you a once over. "I'll kiss you first more," he promises. 
"Starting now, please, handsome. Mi cielo." 
Miguel groans and digs his arms under your back. You don't fight it as he drags you back to the top of the bed. In fact, you quite enjoy it. You lay back to receive his sorry pecks and his all encompassing hug, forgetting what you'd been worried about one damp crescent moon of a kiss at a time.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!
5K notes · View notes
saddestsquid · 2 months
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Hopeless Romantic! König <3
Summary: Hopeless Romantic König who meets you at a park and finds love at first sight to be true. You two enjoy a cute date until he takes you home and gives you one last treat ;)
Words: 2342
Warnings: 18+, overstim, König eats F!Reader out, fingering, fluff to smut, praise, cute romance, squirting, certified munch König !!
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He feels like an idiot standing there in the scenic park, awkwardly holding a bouquet of fresh pink roses. He’d picked them out specially for her, and took the time to sprinkle glitter onto the beautiful petals, but it was all for nothing. All his effort went to waste as the poor guy got stood up.
Wallowing in his own shame, he barely noticed someone yelling in the distance until it got closer. He finally snapped out of his trance to see a dog running straight at him. He bent down and stopped the panting golden retriever, caught off guard but smiling and petting it.
“Rover! Oh thank gosh…” He thought it might be the angels themselves speaking when he heard that voice, but he looked up to see nothing but a beautiful woman with a relieved expression. Looking at her closely, he figured perhaps he was looking at an angel.
“Thank you for stopping him, he just runs straight off whenever I let him off leash.” You apologized breathlessly.
König smiled, and found himself forgetting the failed date entirely as he got lost in your eyes. “It’s not a problem, he’s quite adorable.” He responded, and he noticed your eyes widen the tiniest bit at his unfamiliar accent.
“C’mere Rovey,” You cooed, and König’s heart pounded in his chest. The dog trotted straight into your arms and sat still while you hooked the leash back onto his collar. Gosh, what König would give for your sweet voice to be directed onto him like that. 
König stood up and you followed suit after making sure your pooch’s collar was secure, and he didn’t miss the way your jaw dropped when you noticed his towering height. Seriously, what are they feeding this man??
You blushed and suddenly felt shy in the presence of this not only polite but incredibly tall man. He was handsome too, with alluring blue eyes that stared at you with such intensity you had to look away. 
Only then did you notice the fallen bouquet.
“Oh! Is this yours? I’m so sorry, did Rover knock it out of your hands-“ you apologized profusely and picked the shimmering bouquet up, handing it back to him. He didn’t give a flying fuck about the fact it fell on the ground tho, he didn’t even notice since he’d been so focused on staring at you.
He shook his head and didn’t bother taking it out of your hands. “No no, no worries. I uhm…I don’t even need it anymore anyways, my date didn’t show up.” He admited with a sigh.
He regretted telling you the moment your expression turned upset. “That’s horrible, I’m sorry.” You muttered sadly, and he felt the desperate need to make you smile again.  “Well this is beautifully made, too bad I couldn’t have been your date.” You joked, trying to lighten the mood but being completely honest.
He stared down at you and blushed as well, “You don’t mean that.” He denied.
“but I do! I would give anything for someone to put this much effort into something just for me.” You admitted, smiling up at him and giggling until you noticed his expression seemed serious.
“Anyone who hasn’t already is a mad man.” He said with a genuine smile, and took the bouquet out of your hands only to offer it back to you. “Little—Rover, was it?—seems to want to explore the park. So, why don’t we all go for a stroll Ja? Rover, me, and…..” He trailed off, so you told him your name.
“And you are?”
“König.” He announced, his addicting accent shining through when he said it.
“Well König…..I don’t see why not.” You accepted his offer and the flowers with a gentle smile that he found himself wanting to see for the rest of his life.
His awful day just got a whole lot better. 
You both spent the day walking around the lovely park, with you having to take twice as many steps just to catch up, which only proved to make him cackle. You admired the ponds and threw sticks for Rover, trusting that König and his long legs could catch up to the hound if he ran too far. He told you about how Austrians typically love to walk everywhere, and you followed up with about a hundred questions about his home country. You even got ice cream, which gave König all types of thoughts when he watched you wipe off the dripping white cream from your lips. He assumed you didn’t notice his stare and flushed cheeks, but you definitely did. Not so much of a gentleman now, hm?
Finally, when it was dark and the park became quiet you both decided to head home. When exchanging numbers you mentioned how you had to walk back to your house since you walked here with your pup earlier in the day for exercise, and König was not having any of that.
“Nein, it’s much too dangerous at night.” he shook his head, leaving no room for argument. “I will give you and your golden a ride home, it’s not a problem.” 
“Really König, it’s okay. I don’t want Rovers hair getting all over your seats.” You whined.
“And I don’t want you getting kidnapped off the side of the street Maus, which sounds worse to you?” He asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.
You tried to argue but came up with nothing and sighed in defeat. “Fine, I’ll let you be annoyingly nice….” You pouted, and he laughed while opening the door for Rover to jump in the back—probably a sign you need a more protective dog if he didn’t even hesitate going in somewhere unfamiliar—and the passenger door for you. 
You gave him directions like his own little passenger princess, looking tiny in the truck that must’ve been specially made to fit someone as giant as him. You dreaded the moment when he pulled into your driveway meaning you two had to part. You’d only met him a few hours ago, yet it felt like you’ve known him for years.
“Have a good night, liebling.” He got out to help you let Rover out and walk you to your door, but before he could turn around to head back to his truck you stopped him. “Actually, would you like to come in?” You offered, setting down the flowers on your counter and smiling suggestively.
He turned beet red like he did at the ice cream stand, but nodded quickly. You giggled and grabbed his hand to drag him inside, pressing your lips together as soon as the front door was closed and Rover was sleeping further away in the middle of the kitchen floor. (Don’t get nasty infront of your pets guys!! They can get scarred for life too ok 😣)
“Jump.” He ordered, and you did as he said and leaped into the air. He caught you with ease, hands grabbing onto the back of your thighs and squeezing the soft flesh. 
He stumbled around for a moment, overly  caught up in your make out session but eventually finding your bedroom. He dropped you flat on your back on the bed, kissing at your neck and seeing which spots got the biggest reactions out of you to start sucking hickeys into.
You moaned and writhed, begging him to do something, and like the gentleman he is, he decided to help you out and tugged down your bottoms, rubbing circles onto your clit through your panties. 
He grabbed your ankles and tugged you to the edge of the bed, spreading your legs wide for him to fit his broad shoulders between. He bit and sucked deep purple marks into your sensitive thighs, watching them writhe in his grasp. 
“König- fuck, please!” You begged, tho you weren’t even completely sure what you were begging for.
“What is it Maus? Tell me what you need.” He asked while pressing kisses up your thigh, leaving love-bites dangerously close to where you needed his mouth most.
“Want…..want your mouth on me. Or your fingers or- ngh! Anything please König- please!” You cried out, already begging pathetically for his touch.
With a devilish smirk he finally tugged down your panties. You clenched around nothing at the cold air and the look of admiration in his eyes as he stared down your cunt. 
“Such a pretty pussy….” he mumbled, “all this just for me sweetheart?” He asked, gathering your slick on his fingers. 
You turned your neck and buried your face in your pillow in embarrassment but he just reached up to grab your chin and turned you to look at him. “Eyes on me.” 
Finally satisfied with your pretty eyes gazing down at him, König delved into your cunt, gripping your thighs and shoving you impossibly closer like he wanted to devour you whole.
Your moans and choked out whines served as fuel for him while he ate you out like a man starved, his big hooked nose bumping into your clit making you shake and arch your back off the soft sheets.  
He dives his tongue into your entrance to fully taste you, and the satisfied hum he releases vibrates in your core and leaves you a leaking, panting mess as he licks you up like your the last bit of water on the Sahara ground.
 He licks a stripe up your pussy until he gets to your clit and starts sucking on it. He’s shameless to the sloppy wet sounds he’s making while he rolls the engorged bud on his tongue and prods a thick finger at your hole. You squirm at how big just the one is—about the size of at least two of yours, maybe more—but you welcome it in with a loud moan of his name. You were already dangerously close by the time he had his mouth on you, but the feeling of just one of his thick fingers slamming into you while he starts to tease another in has you crying out to the stars and cumming all over his hand. 
“That’s it schatz….just like that, mein gott you look so gorgeous when you’re cumming, Ich möchte für immer zwischen deinen Schenkeln bleiben.” He praised you, still pumping his two fingers into your clenching cunt to ride out your high for as long as possible. 
He pulls his fingers out and licks them clean, leaning down to lick up any of your arousal that spilled onto your thighs. When you finally opened your eyes you noticed him staring at you darkly, and the expression made heat pool in your gut.
“W-what?” You asked, half nervous-half turned on. You went to close your legs but he gripped your marked up thighs and laid your legs over his shoulders to have even better access to your soaked cunny.
“Oh we’re not even close to done prinzessin.” He announced with a smirk before sinking three fingers straight back into your pussy, fully intent on making you squirt for him.
You gasped and nearly choked on your words, “wha-y hah-“ you moaned and twitched in overstimulation until he slowed. 
“Tell me to stop.” It was a question; not an order.
Tears leaked down your flushed cheeks but you gasped out; “keep going” and he smiled, the whole bottom half of his face dripping. He wasted no time diving straight back in, inhaling your scent. “Mit Vergnügen, mein bedürftiges kleines Häschen.” He mumbled into your clit, not even bothering to speak English anymore as he knew your fucked out brain could barely comprehend anything. Four of his large digits split you open, grinding and prodding farther into you than you could ever reach on your own. Without much time he found that sensitive bundle of nerves, and you didn’t fail to let him know when you cried out and scratched at your sheets, chanting his name like a mantra.
“König- ah- KönigKönigKönigKönigpleasefuck- pleasepleaseKönig plea- hah . .!..” You moaned, fisting the sheets desperately.
He relentlessly abused that spot, slamming his fingers into you over and over and teasing your folds with the other hand. He messily sucked on your clit, circling it with his tongue like a lollipop, using every part of himself for your pleasure.
“Come on my gorgeous liebling, mein diamant, mein perfekter Schatz, come for me. Squirt all over my fingers.” He begged, voice whiny and muffled into your pussy while he continued his relentless assault on your puffy cunt. 
“Kö….gonna- fuck m’gonna-“ You managed to stutter out  the warning between moans.
“Go on hase, let go. I’ve got you, go ahead.” He encouraged, ravishing your sweet cunny until you were squirting all over his face with a choked out scream, whole body trembling. You were stuck between running away from the burning pleasure and shoving yourself closer, but luckily you didn’t have to decide as he had you pinned down, groaning into your pussy.
Your vision went blank for a few moments, but you came back when you felt him still lapping lazily at your folds until you were whining and shoving him away. He pouted but stood up to fall onto the bed beside you, pulling your spent body into him and engulfing you like you were a teddy bear.
You giggled and pressed a kiss onto his glistening lips, tasting yourself on them. “Not to sound like a jerk or anything, but I’m glad you got stood up.” You joked.
“Mm, I agree. That was the best, most unplanned date I’ve ever been on.” He bantered back with a cheeky grin. 
You rolled your eyes, but then smiled sincerely. “Yeah, it was. I’m really glad I met you Kö.”
His pupils dilated adorably, like a kid seeing a candy store for the first time. “Me too, schatz.”
The two of you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, but not before you muttered, 
“By the way, that other girl is missing out. You eat pussy like a champ.” 
“You could call me a certified munch.” He bounced back, and your jaw dropped.
. . . Translations:
౨ৎ Ja = Yes, Nein = No
♡ Maus = Mouse 
౨ৎ Liebling = Darling
♡ Schatz = Treasure
౨ৎ Mein gott = My gosh
♡ Ich möchte für immer zwischen deinen Schenkeln bleiben = I want to stay between your thighs forever (goals 😋)
౨ৎ Prinzessin = Princess 
♡ Mit Vergnügen, mein bedürftiges kleines Häschen = With pleasure, bunny
౨ৎ Mein diamant = My diamond
♡ Mein perfekter schatz = My perfect treasure 
౨ৎ Hase = Bunny 
Quick tip: Depending on what device you use, If you highlight the text there should be an option to quickly translate! It’s a lot easier than having to go to Google/Safari/etc to search it up :))
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Thank you so much for reading !! It’s 3:00 in the morning rn so I apologize if it’s not very well written :C :C
This is just a sweet little thing to prepare you guys for the FILTHY blurb coming soon 😇😇 get ready!!
823 notes · View notes
prettiestlovergirl · 2 months
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SWEET
tw: MDNI; fem!reader; slytherin! reader; oral (f. receiving); hickeys; kitchen quickie; slightly sub! mattheo riddle; french! mattheo riddle.
concept: an afternoon of baking ends in you covered in a mess your boyfriend, mattheo riddle, is more than willing to help you clean up.
a/n: one of my lovely lovely anons helped me come up with this idea hehe. inspired by me, accidentally covering myself in edible glitter when baking. some idea credit to bratetteprincess who just recently did a latina! reader baking w/luke castellan fic! enjoy, my lovelies! 𓆩♡𓆪
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everybody in your house knew that sunday mornings were for your baking.
after two years of begging and pleading with all of your professors, you were given permission to use the kitchens one day a week in order to bake to your hearts desire.
you always liked to experiment with new things. various dyes that stained your hands different shades, new flavors that made your hair smell for days, edible flowers that made you gag.
today, though, you might have gotten just a teensy tiny bit carried away with your current experiment: edible glitter.
you'd been desperately craving carrot cupcakes but after you'd made and decorated them, they just looked so... boring. after glancing around the blissfully empty kitchen, you spotted it: the silver edible glitter just begging to be used.
you pressed the pump once over the baking tray, watching happily as a cloud of glitter flew out and created a glittery sheen over the cream cheese frosting.
long story short, 15 minutes later your cupcakes were perfect and you were absolutely covered in edible glitter.
you'd been in the middle of sliding your pretty pink apron off when your boyfriend, mattheo, came in to bother check up on you. mattheo was practically fucking addicted to you.
he couldn't stand not being around you for more than an hour, and when he was with you? his hands were all over you, constantly touching, grabbing, rubbing, or squeezing some part of your body. not that you really minded, you were just as obsessed with him.
"wow, ma douce (my sweet), did an arts and crafts shop throw up on you?" he asked, his usual teasing smirk on lips as he wrapped his arm around you. he nuzzled his face into your neck, not caring about the glitter transferring to his clothes. "what are you even doing with glitter? thought you were baking." he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"it's edible glitter. my cupcakes looked so boring n i ran out of those carrot n bunny sprinkles i love so... i tried something new." you shrugged, sticking your lower lip out in a pout as you set your glitter covered apron down on the counter.
"edible, huh?" mattheo asked, eyes now locked on the shimmering skin above your collarbone. "mhm." you nodded, not paying much attention to your boyfriend as you attempted to try and clean up your mess.
you paused your actions as he leaned down and took a nice, long lick up from your collarbone to your jaw. you let out a soft gasp while he groaned instantly at the sugar taste, admiring how your skin shined now with both the glitter and his saliva.
"mattheo..." you breathed, your voice a soft whine as he drew his tongue back down. "mattheo, i have to clean up, it's part of my deal with the professors." you whined, trying to move from his grip that only seemed to tighten as you shifted.
he thrived on the sounds of your pretty little whimpers, already getting drunk on the one little taste he had of you. he'd never been so down bad for anyone before, but with you? he couldn't help but want to touch you, taste you, 24/7.
"we are cleaning up, ma douce (my sweet). 'm helping you clean up all this glitter first, you got a big clump right there." he murmured, pressing his lips to the skin and sucking harshly on it, drawing another whimper from your lips.
he sucked on the skin, drawing moan after moan out of you until he could see the beginnings of a pretty purple bruise. "there we go, all gone." he hummed, his hands finding their way up to your chest and squeezing your boobs gently.
you mewled softly as he squeezed, biting your lower lip as he kissed and sucked purple marks all over your neck. you squeezed your thighs together tightly, feeling the wetness pool in your panties.
normally, you'd be upset with the number of hickeys he left, but the way his lips moved in sync with his hands made you a little distracted.
he moved away from your neck, now kissing and swiping his tongue over the skin down your arms. he left the occasional bite mark as he moved, your fingers now digging into his scalp as your breathing got heavy.
"mm, mattheo, now you've got some glitter on you." you pouted, dipping your own head down to lick up the newly transferred glitter. you traced your name on his neck with your tongue, leaving your own series of hickeys on his neck.
"fuck." he groaned, hands still massaging your boobs over your clothes while you suck his neck and paint it varying shades of purple and green.
"you should use this glitter more often." he murmured, to which you simply nodded instantly. you grazed your teeth over his pulse point, giggling softly as he let out his own soft whine. "y'know, i think you've got some more glitter down further. hop up on the counter, yeah? want to check it out." he grunted.
you pushed the cooling rack holding your sparkly cupcakes to the side before lifting yourself up onto the counter. "really want to make sure we get it all off." mattheo hummed, lifting your ass up a bit and dragging your shorts and panties down your legs.
he knelt down before you, pressing a few soft kisses up both of your legs before being face to face with your drooling cunt. "ma douce, douce ange (my sweet, sweet angel)" he crooned, taking a long lick through your puffy folds and watching as your toes curled in pleasure.
"fuck, it's even sweeter than the glitter." he groaned, dipping his tongue right back into your pussy. your head lolled back, teeth trapping your lower lip roughly while your hand gripped the back of his head.
he pinched your clit between his teeth and his tongue before rubbing his tongue back and forth rapidly. he relished in the way your back arched and your moans got louder and louder.
you thanked god for the soundproofed kitchens as you bucked your hips against his face. "mattheo, fuck, mattheo!" you whimpered, his name sounding like heaven from your lips.
his tongue continued to work your sensitive clit as you moaned for more, begged for him to move faster. "god, fuck yes, fuck!" you whined, gripping at his curls tightly while he continued to flick his tongue against your puffy bundle of nerves.
"shit, fuck, mattheo, 'm gonna- fuck!" you moaned, nearly collapsing back on the counter as you came roughly on his tongue and chin. he licked and lapped at your pussy, going until he got every single drop and your legs were quivering from the overstimulation.
he let you catch your breath before eventually helping you back up. you got redressed and together, you picked up the kitchen and got your cupcakes onto your pretty little platter.
later that afternoon, you and mattheo snuggled up together on the couch in the common room, chatting away about whatever nonsense you felt like chatting about.
when your friends came in, their eyes widened in confusion at the sight of you: you were both still coated in glitter with hickeys all over your necks, and you even had bite marks on your arms.
"jesus, did you get into a fight with a sparkly vampire?"
ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ
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strang3lov3 · 9 months
Text
Cup of Sugar
Dilf!neighbor!joel x fem reader (pre outbreak)
Summary: You often borrow from your neighbor, Joel. He catches you in his home, digging through his belongings for batteries when your vibrator dies.
WC: 4.5k
Warnings: Smut!! Dirty talk, smug joel, masturbation, blowies, vibrators, unprotected piv, joel is fully clothed and reader is butt ass naked! Soft!dom joel vibes
AN: Dedicated to all my faves, @notjustjavierpena, @macfrog, @gracieispunk, @toxicanonymity and @speckledemerald i love all y’all with my entire heart<3
Please comment/reblog if you enjoyed ❤️
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The ceiling fan needs to be fixed. You’ve been meaning to get that taken care of. It’s the first thing you think of on Saturday morning, when you wake up in your bed to the sound of lawn mowers and weed whackers. A gentle breeze comes from your open window and ghosts over your skin, reminding you to get your ceiling fan fixed.
 Saturdays were often your busiest days. Between cleaning, grocery shopping, and getting ready to go out for drinks with your friends, you don’t have much time for just you. Which, arguably, is what weekends should be for. 
You get out of bed and start getting ready for the day. You shower, get dressed, do your hair and your makeup just how you like. You feed your pets and you’re out the door to take on this beautiful Saturday.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see someone waving good morning to you. It’s Joel, wearing nothing except for his grass stained jean cutoffs as he mows his lawn. His dark curls are damp and stuck to his forehead, his torso shimmers in the sunlight. You catch a glimpse of his soft tummy and the thin line of hair leading down from his navel. 
You nearly faint right then and there. Joel’s your ridiculously sexy dilf of a next door neighbor. You’ve been absolutely smitten with him for what feels like eternity, and his slutty lawn mowing outfits are not helping you one bit. 
“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he calls to you after turning off his mower. “Big plans today?”
“Grocery shopping,” you reply plainly, trying to keep your cool. You don’t want to say much and trip over your words. God, he makes your knees buckle. “And chores. Then going out to drink with a few friends.”
He nods. “Stay outta trouble,” he tells you with a charming wink, and then he pulls the cord of his mower and begins working on his lawn again. You watch his back muscles twitch and shine in the hot sun, his plump ass filling his shorts just right. 
Fuuuck. You’re nearly salivating at the sight. He’s gonna be an issue again today. 
And an issue he was. 
At the grocery store, you walk past the lawn mowers and other yard work supplies. Joel. You scan your groceries and check out, and you just know you’re forgetting something.
At home, washing your bedding. You can’t help but wonder how his bedding looks, how it would smell and feel with your face pressed into the mattress as he pounds you from behind. Does he keep his bed neatly made? Messy?
At the bar, watching the drops of condensation slide down the glass. You’re thinking of the way Joel looks with beads of sweat dripping down his face, down the dip of his temple and the sharp curve of his jaw. Your friends are trying to talk to you, but your mind is elsewhere. The condensation pools at the table under the glass. 
As the night finally draws to a close, you drive yourself home. It’s late, most of the lights are off in the neighborhood, including Joel’s. You walk into your home, toss your keys on the end table by your door and make your way to your bedroom.
You’re aching between your thighs, your skin feels hot and your mind is focused on just one thing. You strip bare and flop on your bed, reaching for your hot pink bunny eared vibrator. Ol’ reliable. 
Usually, you like to take your time with your self-love. Tease yourself a little, build up that anticipation. Joel’s done that enough to you today, so you get right to business. With your legs spread wide, you turn the vibrator on and press the toy to your center, using it to spread your arousal up to your clit and back down again. 
Maybe two minutes in, just as you find the perfect spot and the perfect pace, and then the whine of the vibrator begins dying down. You let out an incoherent stream of obscenities as you realize what’s happening, then the vibrator’s buzzing finally comes to a heartbreaking stop. “Fuck,” you hiss. Batteries.
You’re irked. You fucking knew you were forgetting something at the store. And you’d think the way you were fantasizing of Joel all day, you would have remembered to pick up the fucking batteries for your vibrator. He is the object of your affection, after all.
You have extras stashed, don’t you? You open your bedside table drawer to check and…nothing. Maybe in the closet downstairs, where you keep your cleaning supplies and first aid stuff? You throw on your robe real quick and check. Nope. You slam the door, irate with frustration.
You’re getting desperate now, and out of the corner of your eye you notice a dim green light, flashing gently. The smoke alarm. That has to have batteries you can steal for a little while, right? It’s not like it’s preventing you from dying in a house fire or anything. You grab a stool and unscrew the alarm from the top of the ceiling and, and,
It has batteries. 
But they’re nine volts. Not even close to the triple A’s you require. 
Jesus. Fucking. Christ. You need to calm down. Women have fingers for a reason, after all. But god bless it, it’s not the fucking same!
In the dark of your kitchen, you get yourself a glass of water and stare out the window at Joel’s house. And as you take a sip of water, it hits you.
Joel probably has batteries. 
You slip on your flip flops and leave your house, heading over to Joel’s backdoor. 
Are you about to break and enter into his home? No, of course not. That would be absurd. You have a key, duh. 
It started with a cup of sugar. 
Once, you had knocked on Joel’s door asking to borrow a cup of sugar for the sheet cake you were making for the neighborhood barbecue. You, ever so forgetful, had failed to remember to pick up sugar on that particular grocery shopping trip. 
Joel left and returned moments later with a large container full of sugar, way more than a cup. You were expecting a baggie with a single cup of sugar inside, not the whole bin. Men, you thought. You thanked him and promised to give his sugar back soon. You never did. 
The next time, it was eggs. You knocked on Joel’s door, but were met with no answer. So you called him. 
“Hey, what’s up sugar?” Your heart swelled at the nickname. It’s what Joel teasingly called you when you never returned his bin full of sugar, not that he really minded.  “Just need a favor. Are you home?”
“Maybe,” he said. “What do you need?”
“Just like, three eggs for the cupcakes tomorrow,”
After trying your delicious sheet cake, Joel was hooked. He had asked you to make cupcakes for Sarah’s birthday, strawberry with vanilla frosting. You had all the ingredients except for a few eggs, and you didn’t feel like running all the way across town for them. 
Joel exaggerated a groan, faking annoyance. “Those are my last eggs, you know. Am I gonna have to starve at breakfast tomorrow morning?” You let out a giggle at his dramatics. “It’s your breakfast or your daughter’s cupcakes, Joel,” 
“Cupcakes,” he decided. You could hear the smile in his voice. “Take the eggs. S’all good, sugar. I’ll have toast.”
You were about to speak, but Joel interrupted. “Won’t be home for a while. Help yourself, just use the key I gave ya. Happy baking, sugar,”
Joel had given you a key long ago. If he was ever in a pinch working late, he’d call you and ask you to babysit Sarah for him. He gave you a key so you could help yourself inside to make her an after school snack or dinner before she got home. Not that Sarah really needed the help, being so self sufficient. But he liked knowing you were there to take care of her when he wasn’t.
“Bye, Joel,”
And that was your neighborly routine. Babysitting Sarah, borrowing different things from Joel. A flashlight or a screwdriver. Ice, when your freezer broke. Sarah and Joel would borrow from you too, a pair of scissors or a hot glue gun for school projects. Once, they had borrowed your printer late at night when Sarah forgot she had a history paper due the next morning. It’s what neighbors are for, after all.
At Joel’s door with his key in your hand, you jiggle it into the doorknob and quietly open the door, careful not to let it creak too loud. You don’t want to wake up Sarah or Joel. 
You tiptoe through his house, first to his living room. You check the drawer of one of his end tables, nothing. Then the entertainment center where he keeps his video game controllers and such, surely he would keep batteries there too? Nope. You close the doors of the entertainment center and make your way to the kitchen. As quietly as you can you open his junk drawer next to the sink and begin moving items around. There’s a phone book, notecards, pens and pencils. The scissors you lent to Sarah. But no fucking batt-
“What are you doin’ riflin’ through my shit at this ungodly hour?” You jump as a voice interrupts you. You stand up straight and turn your head to the source of the sound, and it’s Joel. His hair is messy and sticking up six ways from Sunday, his soft gray sweatpants hang low on his hips and his thin t-shirt hugs his biceps just so. He’s got one eyebrow cocked, half in amusement and half in annoyance. 
“I just need to borrow something. I'll be out in a second. Didn’t mean to wake you Joel, I’m sorry,” you apologize. You curse yourself for being so noisy, but you can’t help it. You’re frantic for these fucking batteries. 
Joel steps down the stairs. “What do you need so badly right now?”
“Just some batteries,” you mumble. 
“Batteries?” Joel asks. “The fuck do you need batteries so bad for it can’t wait til’ morning?”
You didn’t think this far ahead. You were expecting to find the batteries and just go, not be interrogated by Joel. But you know you’re not in a place to argue. 
“Uhh,” you start, “Flashlight. I need triple A’s.”
Joel just nods quietly, his eyes are droopy with sleepiness and he walks to a kitchen cabinet, the one containing different odds and ends. You see the box of batteries and he reaches to pull a few out for you, but then pauses before handing them to you. “Wait a minute. Thought you didn’t have one. S’why you’re always stealin’ my flashlight,”
“Yeah, sorry. I meant the remote,” Smooth. 
“Mmm,” Joel murmurs, rotating the batteries in his hand. He’s staring you down, taking you all in. Your eyes are wide, your cheeks are flushed, your hair is messy. You’re wearing just a robe, and he’s sure there’s nothing underneath. Your voice is shaking, your breathing is loud and unsteady. 
“Come on Joel, I’m missing my show. Please,” 
Joel doesn’t give you the batteries yet, he just keeps playing with them in his hand. It’s distracting, the way his fingers move so deftly. He bites his cheek and raises his eyebrows at you. He knows exactly why you’re so flustered, and he suspects it’s the same reason you need batteries at the fucking dead hour. 
“What show?”
“What?”
“I asked what show you’re watching tonight,” 
You swallow thickly, your brain is racing as you try to think up a lie. “X-Files,”
“Hm. Who’s your favorite character?”
Damn. Ask more questions, why don’t you? “Sully,” you reply with partial confidence, even though you’re not really sure if that character exists or you’re confusing them with something else.  
“He’s from Monsters Inc, hon. Try again,” You stammer. Maybe it was a bad idea to pick a show you don’t watch to lie about. Joel answers for you, “Did ya mean Scully?”
You nod. “Yeah. Him,”
Joel just smiles tightly, nodding slowly like he knows something you don’t. You’re so full of shit. “Guess what, sugar,”
“What?”
“X-Files ain’t on tonight,” he whispers with a lopsided grin. 
Busted. 
“And I can tell you don’t watch it,”   Joel takes a few imposing steps toward you, you take a few steps back as well. Your lower back hits the counter behind you, pinning you between itself and Joel. You hear the sound of him setting the batteries down next to you. “You think you’re slick, don’t ya? Lyin’ t’me like this.”
Your heart is racing out of our chest as he places his two hands on either side of you on the counter. “What?”
“Did your lil’ fuck toy die on you?” he taunts, his breath is hot on your face. Your eyes widen at the accusation. “It did, didn’t it?”
Your silence is the only answer he needs. 
“So that’s what you’re playin’ with when I hear you whimperin’ for me late at night, hm?” You can only look down at the floor in shame. You didn’t realize you were loud enough for Joel to hear through his own bedroom, which mirrors yours. “You really should keep that window closed, sweetheart.”
You’re not exactly sure where this is going, you’re nervous and excited. Is he mad? Turned on? You can’t tell. “The fan’s broken, it gets hot,” you try to explain while stammering.
 “I’d be happy to fix your fan for ya, but that’s not what we’re talkin’ about right now,”
Joel’s eyes are piercing, he never breaks eye contact as one of his hands leaves the counter. He pulls the fabric of your robe away from your chest a little more, and you look down to watch his next move. “Joel,” you gasp, surprised.
“Nothin’ under here, hm?” he croons as he begins playing with your nipple, hardened by your arousal and the cool air. You moan quietly when he teases it, pinching and twisting it slowly. He looks at you with big and concerned eyes as if to ask that this is okay. You nod in response, of course it’s okay. This is what you’ve dreamed of for so long.
Joel’s hand slides down your body until his fingers find your dripping seam. He slides them through your slick folds teasingly, he cocks his eyebrow when he finds you’re soaked to the bone. “And you were right there, weren’t you?”
You don’t answer, you just keen into his touch a little more. 
“Don’t get all shy on me now, sugar,”
“Yeah,” you admit. 
“Shoot. You poor thing,”
It’s completely silent between you both. Deafening silence. Joel wears a smug grin on his face. He pulls his hand away from your center, reaching for the batteries he set on the counter. 
Before you can even process what you’re doing, you reach for his hand again. “Please,” you breathe. 
“Please what, sugar?”
You don’t have words right now. Not that you did before this moment, either. You put his hand back at your pussy, using your body to tell him what you want. That you want this to continue, that you’re begging him not to stop touching you. Fuck the batteries. 
“Ohhh,” he whispers, realizing. “Want me to get you off tonight, don’t ya?”
You nod with hungry and desperate eyes, thankful that this is going in the best direction it possibly could have. “Please, Joel, need you to touch me,”
It’s not a second before he grabs you by the hips, turns you around and shoves you down to your knees. “No,” he spits, one of his hands is tangled in your hair as the other is untying the knot at his pajama bottoms. He pulls his cock out before you, rock hard and angry. “Think you can just sneak into my house to steal batteries for your little toy?”
You’re at a loss for words, in disbelief that this is the position you’re in now.
“And now you want me to help ya rub one out. S’that right?” When you don’t answer he impatiently taps your cheek with the tip of his cock, smearing precum on your face. “Answer me.”
“Yes, please,”
Joel scoffs. “You’re unbelievable,” he remarks. “Think you’re pretty fuckin’ entitled, sugar. That’s not how this works.”
You feel your heartbeat in every inch of your body, blood rushing through your head. Your eyes dart between his face and his cock in front of you, not sure which part of him to focus your attention to. 
“Here’s how this’ll go,” he begins, pressing his cock against your plump lips. They part slightly at the intrusion, but he doesn’t yet push himself into your mouth. “You do what I say, when I say it. We clear?”
You nod. 
“Repeat it,” he demands. 
“I follow your rules,” you whisper against his member. You can just barely taste him, and you’re hungry for more.
“Attagirl,” Joel praises you, and he shoves himself unceremoniously into your mouth. You nearly gag, pulling back slightly but he holds you right where he wants you. 
He’s big. That’s the first thing you notice. He stretches your mouth out wide and fills you up entirely. Then you notice his tuft of slightly unkempt pubic hair that your nose is nudging. Your eyes flutter shut and you savor the way he tastes, tangy and slightly salty from the sweat. 
His voice interrupts your thoughts. “Take your robe off f’me, sug,”
You do as you’re told, untying and shimmying off the thin robe from around your shoulders as you bob your head on his dick. You hollow your cheeks around him, letting him feel every inch of your mouth, so soft and wet. He’s domineering above you, but his hand on your head is gentle. He untangles his fingers from your hair and moves them to your cheek, caressing your skin gently. You can’t tell what the gesture means, if it’s supposed to be comforting or his way of letting you know he’s the one in charge.
You feel him twitch in your mouth every so often as you continue sucking his cock. You look up at him with wide eyes, he looks down at you through hooded lids. You wonder what he’s thinking. 
“I wanna watch you touch yourself,” he requests, but it’s more of a demand. His voice low and gravelly.
You spread your legs slightly and your hand finds your center, your fingers slip and slide through your dripping pussy. 
“Fuck yourself,” is his next command, “Deep as you can go. Come on now,”
You insert a single finger inside of yourself, using your body’s rocking motion to propel your finger deep inside you. But it’s not quite what you need. You pull your mouth off Joel’s cock, which garners you a look of irritation from him. “Need more,” you beg. 
“Yeah? Whatcha need?”
“You, Joel. Please,” 
“Awh,” Joel tilts his head and pouts at you mockingly. “Beggars can’t be choosers. You know that, silly girl.”
You open your mouth to plead for him, but he shuts you up by shoving his cock back into your mouth with a grunt. 
“Keep fuckin’ yourself real nice f’me,” he says. “Gonna watch you come all over those pretty fingers.”
You whine a little and shift on your knees, trying to find the right angle while still taking Joel down your throat. Eventually you do, and you add a second finger while grinding your clit down on your thumb. 
You and Joel find a steady pace, him fucking your mouth and you fucking yourself. You feel the beginning of an orgasm coming on and focus hard on that feeling, letting it build and wash over you. You moan and choke on Joel’s thick cock as you come, spit dribbling down your lips and your chin. 
“Good girl,” he praises you. “Good fuckin’ girl.” 
At this point, your lips and your jaw are sore. You wonder what’s next to come, Joel finishing down your throat or something else. It’s not long before you find out, he pulls away from you and brings you to your feet. 
“What was it you were wantin’ again, sugar? D’ya wanna come all over my cock?”
You try to hold back your excitement, slightly embarrassed by the effect he has on you. 
“Tell me, were you thinkin’ of me tonight? Before that lil’ fuck toy of yours died?”
“All day, Joel,” you whine. “Needed you all day.”
“All day,” he repeats, amused. He turns you around to face the counter,  pulls you back by your hips a bit and nudges your feet apart. “How ‘bout that. What were ya thinkin’ about me?” 
“Y-” you gasp, your words interrupted when you feel the thick head of his cock prodding your slit. He drags it up and down your folds, coating himself in your arousal.
“Go on, now,” His southern accent is thick like honey as he teases you.
“When you were mowing this morning-” you choked out. “You looked so handsome.”
“Handsome, hm? S’awful kind of ya,” Joel notches the tip of his dick inside you and sort of pulses inside you, ever so slightly moving in and out of your dripping entrance. “Got me blushin’, sugar.”
He doesn’t give you time to respond before he buries himself inside of you. You yelp at the sudden intrusion and without missing a beat, Joel wraps a hand around your mouth.
“Pipe down,” he growls. You nod frantically into his hand, which he promptly removes from your mouth and places on the back of your head. Firmly, but not so rough that he hurts you, he pushes your face down into the counter and holds you steady there by the back of your neck. His hand is warm on your neck, the pressure of his strength against you is both comforting and somewhat of a warning. Your guts churn as desire shoots through your veins like electricity. 
Joel finds a steady pace. Not too fast, not too slow. His cock hits you right where you need him. 
“Jesus, sugar. Feel good?”
“Fuck,” is all you can get out. You’re lost in him, your skin is on fire and all you can feel is Joel. His thighs hitting your ass, his balls slapping against your clit. One of his hands on your waist, holding you steady. “You feel good, s’good.”
Joel lets out a strangled kind of noise, somewhere between a whine and a groan. You hear his sharp and unsteady breathing through his gritted teeth, and you wish you could see him like this. You can just about picture it perfectly, his messy hair flopping with each of his thrusts and his brow furrowed, the little line between them more prominent than it usually is.
He fucks you at a devastating rhythm, both of you panting and moaning. Joel’s a little more vocal than you would have expected. You can tell he’s trying to keep as quiet as he can, but he lets out strangled moans here and there, as if he can’t help it at all. When he’s quiet, you wonder how he does it. Is his lip pinned under his teeth? Is he holding his breath?
He taps your cheek. “Look at yourself, baby,”
You open your eyes, and you see your reflection in his glass patio door. You’re stark naked and being mercilessly fucked and Joel’s behind you, still fully clothed. His plump ass peeks out from his gray sweats.
“You look real pretty with my cock in ya, sugar. Always knew you would,” he purrs. 
“Fuck, Joel,” you moan, and you reach an arm behind you to hold onto his own, where he’s still gripping your hips. He holds you in a vice grip and you’re sure you’ll be a painting of bruises tomorrow, a picture of pure, unadulterated sex.
His hand on your neck finally leaves, and he wraps it around the front of your body until he finds your clit. You almost miss the way he pressed you into the cold countertop. 
“Alright, now,” he breathes, “Keep lookin at us when you come.”
You nod into the countertop. Even if he didn’t tell you what to do, you’d still be watching yourself and him in the reflection of the glass. You couldn’t peel your eyes away if you tried.
He expertly paints circles into your clit as his once calculated and steady thrusts turn frenzied and he loses his rhythm. 
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, Joel,” you’re gasping, feeling your walls clench and squeeze him. “Right there, right there, fuck.”
“Go on, let go f’me,” he pants. 
With a few more circles tracing your clit, you fall apart on him. You come with a loud whine, and Joel pulls you up to cover your mouth with his hand once more. His arm is between your breasts and you’re not sure if the hot sweating on your back is from you or him. You don’t mind either way. 
He doesn’t yet stop fucking you, and the sensation is becoming all too much. Your moaning is muffled by his hand as he chases his own orgasm, and he spills into you with shuddering breaths and grunts, painting milky white ropes of come on your insides. 
You groan at the loss as he pulls out of you and his spend is warm as it drips from your pussy and down your thighs. You turn around to face Joel, both of you panting as you catch your breath. His dominant demeanor is gone as he bends down to pick up your robe and holds it open for you, you turn around and slither your arms through the sleeves. Without words, he turns you around and ties it in the front, then you slide your flip flops back on your feet. The whole song and dance feels oddly domestic and sweet.
With his hand on the small of your back, he guides you out his door and walks you to your home.
“Don’t have too much fun,” he warns you teasingly, placing the two triple A batteries in your hand. “And close that window. I wanna be the only one to hear ya moanin’ all pretty like that.”
You nod with a shy smile, and Joel kisses your lips and then your forehead. The gentleness of the gesture feels odd, but not wrong. You’re suddenly feeling bashful, as if Joel just didn’t have you butt naked and bent over his kitchen counter. 
“I’ll be by to fix that fan for ya, sugar,” 
And then he walks away. And you go inside and back to your bedroom, first making sure to close your window. You watch the light in Joel’s bedroom turn off.
 You lay in bed and play with the triple A batteries in your hand, still feeling the tingle of his lips on yours, the dull ache of the bruises his fingers left on your hips. 
You never did end up replacing those batteries. Just like how you never gave back the sugar.
@swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @venusdemonroe @guiltgoreglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers@angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @jazzy-music-cat @anoverhwhelmingdin @dontatmethebeasts @venus122idkpleaze @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane @bbyanarchist @spideysimpossiblegirl @speckledemerald
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rubbcrhosemoved · 1 year
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WARNING! WARNING!
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Mostly putting this here for later purposes, but each of the Robo Fizz models have different colored optics that change when their DANGER modes are activated (whether for defensive purposes or offensive purposes).
OLLIE; Stays green but changes to red when upset, angry or preparing to fight. There is a rare color that can be seen which is pink and this was his original eye color before being programmed “correctly”.
PEARL; Soft, pale blues because it’s suppose to give others the indication that it poses no threat and is harmless when really that’s not the case at all. It’s not as dangerous as Ollie can be, coming up as the second most dangerous. When signaling it’s DANGER mode, it’s eyes will change to yellow.
SHINE; Usually a dark purple almost violet, but when upset or getting jealous, their eyes will also change to yellow but more darker (like a golden yellow versus the overly bright yellow almost fluorescent color that Pearl has).
SHIMMER; He has pink and when upset (which is rare), they change to orange.
SEAGLASS; Hers are usually a teal but when upset, they’ll change to a dark red almost like a burgundy or crimson.
CHIMERA; Usually aqua or cyan. When upset they change to white. When activating their hypnosis powers, pink circles constantly turning will appear in their optics.
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anantaru · 7 months
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DAY 12 — COCKWARMING
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — blade, gepard
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, cockwarming, petnames: princess, love, slight meanie blade, sleepy gepard wanting you close forever, v cute as well, neck bites
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𖧡 — BLADE
"oh my—," your words get interrupted by a mouldering sob, emanating inside your chest and returning much stronger, your lips parting when you wince at the intrusion inside of you.
yet you do not care about the immediate overstimulation wrecking havoc on your body, because naturally— you don't even bat an eye on your luscious winces and short winded cries— not when blade feels this good when he first sinks his cock in and manifests a burning stretch on your cunt.
"so perfect.. my love..." his words are laced with vulnerability, and the dark haired shoves his face into your neck before inhaling your candid scent, that one distinctive fragrance that set his loins on fire whenever they penetrated his nostrils. on top of that, his tongue slowly rolls out of his mouth to lap at your neck, flashing his white canines at the flesh before pressing his teeth into you ever so slightly.
blade thinks it's adorable that you haven't realized that he won't let you move on him and that in reality, luring your attention to his tongue lapping around your neck and feigning a precious sweetness was all part of the plan, his plan.
despite that, with his cock being fully slotted inside your walls, your thighs begin to shine of your arousal when you attempt to bounce yourself on top of him, strengthening the muscles in your quivering legs before he weights his palms on top of your hips— a panicked hitch falling in drops at the sheer impact of your weight dropping back onto his cock, it's utterly cruel, fizzling and buzzing over your battered walls.
your poor cunt has been consumed by his thickness and copious amounts of pre ooze out of his slit, blade wants to mark you up until you're his from inside and out, yet even then, he won't let you move a single inch on him. "h-heey.." you mewl in slight pain, curving your lips into a pout before playfully hitting his chest with your fists;
"wh-what's that supposed to mean?" you protest in vein and watch how blade lets go of a deep chuckle whilst keeping you pressed against his hot body— the curve of his length rolling over the squashy splotches on your pussy, tasting how your mushy sex thaws on his shaft.
"nothing," blade coos, his tip drizzling his pre into you, and ugh— you're so tight, washing and seeping your arousal on his erection that if he wasn't that trained in self control, would immediately fuck into your heat as if feral and starved of touch— yet instead, blade takes a deep breath into his chest before exhaling through his mouth, repeating himself once more.
"nothing's wrong at all, love, ‘just wanna feel you."
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𖧡 — GEPARD
the entire room had been consumed by a stifling fervor and a shimmering energy of torridity makes contact with your enclosed bodies resting against the bed. only distinct outlines visualizing how gepard was holding you close against his chest— his pink tip pushed up against your gaping hole, softly shimming along your ribbed walls whilst swallowing your hazy noises.
pheromones waft into the humidity of the air as you circle your arms around his body, your face nuzzled deeply into his neck as you welcome him entirely. "i-i love you ‘so much.." gepard whispers, his cock thudding painfully as you greet him with the spongy spot in your cunt, a rush of lust flooding his flaming veins, drowning inside a liquor of passion.
you hide a bubbly smile on your precious lips, delicately kissing along his collarbone while running your nails over his defined back, "i love you too." those confessions, they almost act like some sort of aphrodisiac that expel from your frames when gepard throbs inside you the moment you say it back— he just had to hear it, he simply cannot get satiated by the love you gave him.
every additional thought that may wander through your psyche now, gets suffocated by an aching pulse inside your thighs, and sometimes you wonder if gepard even realizes how impossibly thick he was, how his length never failed to crowd you until you're practically jammed by his shaft battering your pussy, shattering all the sensitive nerves inside your ragged walls.
you're his princess— his chest heaving when you nudge your hips against his erection, only a little, but strong enough to coax a reaction out of him.
"fuck— l-lets stay like this for a while." he whines, placing one hand on top of your ass before greedily squeezing and groping the flesh, the harshness of his strong grip making the skin jiggle underneath his palm before you pant out— tickling his handsome face, eagerly running your tongue over his neck before muttering a chorus of gentle, i love love love you’s..
.. only for him to hear and indulge in.
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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blkgirl-writing · 8 months
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Hi, I saw your smut requests post and was wondering if you could write one about touch starved Gale finally being alone with reader/Tav and getting his satisfaction? (Yeah, I got inspired by your nsfw headcanons about him, how could you tell?) Please and thank you!
PS Can I be 🧀 anon?
What happened at the moon lit pond
Gale X Fem!Reader
Baldurs gate 3
It’s been, probably three years since I’ve written a full fanfic? I’ll admit I’m probably a little rusty. Thank y’all for hanging in, and I hope this fulfills our nerdy wizard boy needs. thank you so much 🧀 anon for the request! I hope you stay and request some more.
Important tags: lots of pining, some angst (no sad ending), smutty (male and female Masterbation, male giving female oral), spoilers for gales mid game story, romance, Gale is an anxious mess, The thought of gale brushing his hair from his face got me GOING 😩
Word count: 1.9k
(Part 1.5 HERE) (PART 2 HERE)
(Gale headcanons that inspired this here)
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-
Gale didn’t know how to handle these new feelings for you. He makes a fool of himself everyday, it seems. He always offers you a slice of his bread, even if you gave your own, he saves some of his own morning coffee for you, since he wakes up earlier, and even warm it up for you with a spell.
He simply wanted you to like him. That would be all he needed, but anything else that may follow that would be a true blessing. Gale wanted nothing more than to make you laugh, to see your smile and know he was the reason why, to camp and be the first and last person you’d speak to before sleep.
Gale wouldn’t let his mind wander much past that, or he tried to not let it. The occasional dream would slip through where you were his, and he was yours. It simply put him in panic mode In the waking hours, trying to not be obvious, scared you’d find out, what exactly? He wasn’t sure. You were too kind to break his heart so effortlessly, like he feared you would.
Endless scenarios danced in gales head of rejection, humiliation, and what would happen if he let himself go, life he was tasked to do. It wouldn’t take much, to convince him to live. Friendship, a place to call home, even if it was ever moving. Company he could entrust his life to. It was all so appealing. Luring him into life, breathing a new passion into his purpose, one he’d lost many years ago, sometime when he was alone for so many years.
Those thoughts seemed to linger on forever, sweeping over his barely conscious brain to awaken him again, rustling him from what could be a good nights rest. Eventually, Gale decided to just get up and go for a walk.
Camp had been set up in one of the most beautiful places any of you had seen. Waterfalls tinted emerald green, sand fine and shimmering in the light, may it be sun or moon. I’m one of those waterfalls, he found you.
Waist deep in the pond. Skin and hair dripping wet, shining more than usual water would, adding a silver glow to the night. You looked better than a goddess could ever imagine, and still, his eyes never dipped below you shoulders, even though he deeply wanted to look lower. Instead, he stood there, looking like a fucking idiot, gods know how long. Maybe a tree branch snapped, or maybe you finally snapped out of your trance, but your head whipped in his direction, eyes darting across the small beach, only relaxing when you realize only gale stands before you.
“Oh, Gale, it’s just you…” you let out a deep, jagged breath, the anxiety flowing out of your body just as quickly as it racked through it.
“Just? Are you disappointed?” Gale smirked, although his heart raced in his chest, one word and he'd sulk back to camp, but gods he wanted to stay and spend the whole night with you under the stars.
“Far from it, really. I was just thinking about how much you’d enjoy this view if you were here” you tore your eyes away from Gale, focusing on the stars. “I thought it may remind you of waterdeep. You paint a very beautiful picture of home.”
“I can think of a few things much, much more beautiful than Waterdeep,” his voice low, raspier than usual. Easily explained away from the lack of sleep or old sleeping bags, not for what it really was. Deep yearning, wanting, needing.
“I’d love to see them someday, then.”
“We’ll just have to get you a mirror, then,” “All the beauty in the world would reflct
"Gale, I-" You finally looked into his eyes, he wore his heart on his sleeve, at least for a moment. Those puppy eyes, dark bust glistening in the full moonlight, his hair messy from turning in his sleep, he wanted you, in many more ways than one. Gale's emotions could never be that simple, of course.
"Well," you walked towards him, water inching lower and lower, revealing more and more of your body, yet gales eyes stayed on yours. "Why don't you join me for a swim. It's a beautiful night."
"an offer I could not refuse." Gale's face was plastered with that cocky smile, the one that could melt anyone into a puddle in seconds.
He might have been a gentleman and kept his eyes upwards, but you were not so much, Gale untied his robes, gods why were there so many damn layers? It was quite a sight, his little mannerisms that showed more of him to you than he had shown to you. He was nervous, his fingers missing the simple ties frequently, he got annoyed by his hair getting in his eyes, a grimace appearing before he swept his hair behind his ear.
Your eyes lingered on his circle smoke tattoo, his toned arms, his downright massive hands. he was more tan than you realized, To be fair, he's always covered in those loose robes, leaving you to wonder what was underneath. You were more than happy to finally be finding out. But not below the waist.
"Isn't it a bit cold to be this naked?"
"The water is warmer than the air, I promise." You extended a hand out to Gale, even though he was feet away from you. "Come on, Gale from Waterdeep being afraid of some cold water? Sounds redundant."
"You got me there." He finally stepped into the glimmering pond surrounded by rocks and sand, enough to have your own little corner, to lessen the echo if it was needed. The whole camp didn't need to know all of your business. It must've been a magical lake, as both you and Gale noted separately. Unnaturally still, even when you moved freely, small glowing lights pooled at your sides, occasionally bubbling into the air once you leaned against a large, bright rock.
"May I ask what you were doing out here at this hour?" Gale spoke, still much further away from you than he wanted to be,
"Can I not take a mid-night swim?" You raised your brows in a questioning glance his way "A woman needs time to herself. These days and nights have been very stressful."
Gales very audible oh, slipped through the silence. "You don't have to relax alone." His eyes finally gave in to the need, scanning your body with a low moan slipping past his lips. His excitement was immediate, brushing against your lower stomach all the way past your navel.
"You've wanted this." You stated, brushing your hand against his thigh.
"There's plenty of magic around us, I want the Gale right in front of me." You dared to inch even closer, his thigh fully slipping between yours, inches away from touching your pussy. His hands floated inches from your waist, "Let me give you everything"
"Give me everything" With that, Gale's hand grabbed your waist, gently guiding you onto his thigh, motioning your hips down and swaying only him. The sensation sent sparks flying through his body, you were right in front of him, completely bare and rocking with pleasure onto him. Better than any dream he'd thought up, any fantasy that ran through his head even at the most inappropriate of times. Yes even during the throws of battle. Even in hard times like that, he was so drawn to you.
Gales other hand came up to your jawline, tilting your head so he could latch his mouth around your neck. Deep marks left behind while he inches his way in hickeys up your neck, jaw, and finally to your lips. Any semblance of anonymity flew out the window, not a single person could miss what he gave you, artfully placed dark spots painting your skin. "I have never seen such a beautiful being in my life"
"I could say the same about you gale," You said betwixt breathy moans, picking up the pace of your grinding hips against his thigh, his hand on your waist moving between a tight grip on your ass, and a light but so effective caress of your clit. Every time you got so close, his fingers moved, he was teasing you. His cocky smirk felt even through his kiss.
"I want you to come on my mouth." As if he was reading your slightly frustrated thoughts, "I want to taste you in my dreams."
All you could manage was a frantic nod, a mumbled yes, and shakily hoisting yourself up onto a rock that was perfect for gales pretty head to be between your thighs. Gale pushed your thighs apart with one hand, which stayed firmly grabbing onto you. The other sneaked up your thigh, tracing patterns along your skin. "Gale, please," you whispered out of pure desperation. The only warmth coming from your feet still in the water, otherwise your skin exposed to the biting air.
"All you had to do was ask, my lady" Gales fingers easily slid into you, curling up and pumping in and out, while he leaned into your pussy, maintaining eye contact as he placed one kiss just to the right of where you needed him to be. All he needed was to be touched, to touch you. Your legs wrapped around him to get Gale even closer, urging him closer.
"Touch yourself" Barely a whisper, but Gale caught it, and certainly didn't need to be told twice. Secretly, he could cum from this alone, your taste, how soft you were, how loud you could get. It was more than enough to orgasm right there with you, however, that is not exactly how he wanted your first sexual experience to go. His hand clutching your thigh came to his cock, rubbing much faster and harder than he was fingering you. he was eager. He wanted this to last forever, he wanted you to cum again and again and again into his mouth. He wanted his face even more dripping from your juices.
"Gale I can't hold it-" You nearly screamed, his tongue swirling and sucking, lightly biting, it was almost too much. Then, he moaned. A loud, deep moan and that was it. Vibrations running through your body from his mouth. there noise that left your mouth could've been heard across Baldurs gate, you silently thanked this magical pound for being so secluded, as you would be borderline embarrassed if people heard. Gales didn't come back up for hair until he was sure you were finished, getting every last drop of you.
"You certainly are loud" Gales tone was so smug it almost made you laugh. You gripped onto his shoulders as he swept you down from the perch, pressing his whole body to yours. After all that, after her definitely came, he was still so hard, and so pressed against you that you couldn't help but gasp. "I want to hear that again."
"Hear what, exactly?" you teased, lifting a finger to trace his chest.
"To hear you cum," his lips dipped down to your ear, slightly nibbling on it, before he rasped "and to feel you on my cock."
-
Part two, here
(Requests Open)
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donatellawritings · 16 days
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ON MY KNEES BEGGING TO KNOW HOW BFF!RAFE FEELS ABOUT LATINA READER GETTING DRUNK OR DOING COKE LLAPLSPLSPLS!!!!!
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you were the prettiest girl at the party. all tipsy and glossy eyed, plump tits on full display as they bounced around in your skimpy triangle bikini, the fat of your plush ass cheeks poking out from underneath your lily pink juicy couture miniskirt as you pranced your way around topper’s backyard, dior kitten heels sporadically clicking against the cobblestone pavement. your bronze skin shimmered under the warm sun, shiny blown out hair flowing against the slight breeze as you found yourself topping your head back, the bff locket that rafe had bought you just a few weeks against glinting as the smooth shot of tequila slid down your throat.
you loved pool parties — even more so, now that you were able to properly debut the new fuschia diamond butterfly belly ring that dangled and shined with each sway of your hips.
scrunching your cute little button nose, you let out a shaky exhale, the burn of the alcohol now dull as you quickly shoved the bitter slice of lime between your shiny and swollen lips, “papito, that burned!” you whined with a short and breathy laugh, shuddering as chills ran across your warm body.
“yeah? told y’that s’gonna be your last one tonight, a’ight?” rafe tuts, gently pulling the now wilted slice of lime from your mouth, while swiftly removing the shot glass from your small hand, his gaze on you firm as you hold up your arms with forced pouty lips, “c’mon kid — can’t carry y’around right now,” he sighs, running a quick hand over his tight jaw.
rolling your eyes you poke out a wobbly bottom lip, your gaze unsteady as you stumble into rafe’s chest, “i thought y’were my best friend, papi!” you mumbled, completely obvious to the way your needy words made rafe’s stomach flip.
drunk and all, you always knew just how to get rafe to give into your every little stupid whim — so, you saved ‘papi’ for when things had to go your way.
gently grabbing you with a light pinch of your cherub cheeks, rafe looks you over, your dewy bambi eyes struggling to remain straight, “hey! cut it out, this is why i didn’t want y’drinkin,” his hand squeezes just a bit tighter, his brows furrowed as he watches fat tears well up at your waterline, “don’t start that cryin’, mama — i will take y’home,” he reprimands lowly, his bright blue eyes stoic and stern.
it was all too much for you. the blaring trap music, your tummy swirling, brain fuzzy from all the alcohol, and now your best friend was made at you? there was only so much that a delicate girl like you could take — so, all it took was that one empty threat to trigger the waterworks.
with a small sniffle, you take a quivering breath, “y-you’re mad at me?”
pursing his lips into a firm line, rafe shares a knowing look with topper who raises his hands up in surrender, “no, princess —”
“i just wanted t-to have so-some fun! m’sorry r-rafe,” you hiccuped, pulling your face out of rafe’s grip as you rushed to knuckle away your hot tears, your swollen tits jiggling with each uneven breath you took, “m’gonna g-go home by my-myself,” you heaved, your voice squeaky.
motioning towards you with wild hands, rafe shakes his head, defeated, at topper, “m’gonna take her crybaby ass home,”
half awake, with the side of your soft cheek mushed against rafe’s shoulder, you kept your legs securely wrapped around his waist, semi-consciously wiggling your cute ass against his supporting hand. you couldn’t help yourself, rafe was so tall, and you were so pathetically drunk — you needed to be clung to him, and it warmed your pretty little heart.
“i looove you, papito,” you sang, pressing wet and sloppy pecks to the side of rafe’s jaw as he entered his bedroom with a relieved sigh. raising your heavy head off of rafe’s shoulder, you reach a dainty hand up to squish his cheeks together, with a sickeningly sweet giggle, “best friends forever, right?” you questioned, unfocused eyes all glazed and full of intense admiration.
letting out a sharp breath, rafe nudges your locket with his index finger — you were so out of it and loopy, rafe knew that he could say anything and you wouldn’t remember it, “always be y’best friend, until y’smarten up and be my girl. how does that sound, princess?” rafe smiles, unbuckling his belt with his free hand, his other still keeping you securely hoisted around his waist.
an exaggerated gasp leaves your faded glossy lips, “thought i was your girl already, papi?” you pouted, throwing your head back with a loud huff as rafe snakes a hand up to the back of your head, lightly pushing to get your teary gaze to meet his.
“no more cryin’, y’know exactly what i mean.” rafe reprimands gently, lowering you to stand on wobbly feet as you stumble backwards, “c’mon, mama — need y’to stand up just a little bit, yeah?” rafe grabs your elbow, his sober eyes set on you as you bite down into your bottom lip, far too deep in your drunken thought.
you loved your rafey and it broke your little heart to think that he believed otherwise — and maybe it was the alcohol talking, but you needed him to know that you were his girl through and through.
“maybe you can make me your girl, one day?”
cocking his head to the side, rafe breathes out a nervous chuckle, reaching up to scratch at the nape of his neck, “yeah, sweet girl — one day,” he assured you, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of you bouncing with utter joy, your shiny eyes beaming as you flop down into rafe’s bed.
letting out a sigh of content, your swollen lips ache from your stretched out grin, “m’gonna be your girl!” you cheer, your once drowsy state now turned to a hyper fit of excitement as rafe presses his lips to the top of your head.
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foxy-eva · 8 months
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Remedy
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Summary: Spencer finally has someone to take care of him when he has a migraine
Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader
Category: Comfort, Fluff
Content Warning: migraines, sensitivity to light, taking a bath together
Word Count: 800
Masterlist
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Even though you knew Spencer had to be home, there was complete silence in the apartment when you stepped inside. It was hard to see anything with all the curtains closed, just a slight golden shimmer daring to shine through the fabric covering the windows. 
Quietly you walked into the bedroom where you found your boyfriend lying on the bed with one of his hands covering his face, still fully dressed in his usual work attire. You weren't sure if he was even awake when you approached the bedside until he moved his fingers away from his eyes to look at you for a second.
"Migraine?" You asked as you sat down beside him. 
"Yes," he confirmed before closing his eyes once more. 
Your fingertips made contact with the soft curls hanging into his face, carefully brushing them aside. 
"I'm so sorry you're not feeling well," you whispered. "What can I do?"
"Nothing," he whined. "I'm sorry."
You decided that as long as it wouldn't make his headache worse, offering him company was all you could do for now. 
"Why are you apologizing?" You asked as you kicked off your shoes to lay down beside him. 
"Because I promised to take you out for dinner."
He didn't move when you tried to cuddle up with him, lying beside you all rigid and obviously uncomfortable.  
"We'll do it another time. It's okay," you reassured him. 
"No it's not," he groaned. "I couldn't even take a shower. I feel gross." 
You sat up to look at him but his eyes were still closed. You wanted to comfort him despite knowing that  it wouldn't work.
"You're not gross, I promise."
Spencer didn't seem convinced and only huffed out some air instead of an answer. After being with him for quite some time now you knew that he wouldn't be able to get comfortable and relax like that. 
After thinking about it for a moment, you suggested, "How about we take a bath together? I can help you wash your hair."
To your surprise there was no resistance from him, instead he just mumbled, "Okay."
You left his side to fill up the bathtub, making sure that the water was just the right temperature. A few droplets of lavender oil in the water quickly let a subtle and relaxing scent spread through the room. You gathered a couple of candles and lit them, aware that any harsh light would worsen Spencer's headache. 
When everything was prepared you took your boyfriend's hand to pull him into a standing position. Carefully you helped him shed his clothes before placing a tender kiss on his cheek. The innocent gesture let a small smile form on his face. 
You led him into the bathroom and motioned for him to step into the tub. After ridding yourself of your own clothes, you stepped into the water and sat down behind him. As you began to knead the tight muscles of his neck and shoulders, a relieved sigh fell from Spencer's lips. 
You leaned forward to give his cheek another little kiss before whispering, "How are you feeling?"
"Better, now that you're here." 
After getting his hair wet you started spreading shampoo over his scalp. As you began massaging his head you felt how the tensions slowly left his body. A warmth spread through your chest when you noticed that those tender motions helped relieve his pain.
"That feels really nice," he breathed. 
Spencer deserved to be taken care of and you'd be happy to spend the entire evening doing just that. Even when you were sure that all of his hair was already clean, you kept going with those comforting motions until your fingers got tired. 
After rinsing the shampoo you began working some conditioner into his curls, making sure his beautiful hair would look just as good as always. When the both of you were clean, you helped him out of the tub and wrapped him into a bathrobe before he lay back down on the bed again. 
When you joined him on the mattress he wanted to put his arm around your body to let you curl into his side but you stopped him and said, "Let me hold you, Spencer."
It took him a moment to understand. Once he did, he turned to his side to let you press your chest into his back and wrap your arm tightly around him. Holding him like that let your heart skip a beat and it made you feel closer to him with every minute passing. It wasn't easy for Spencer to let someone care for him like that but you knew how much he appreciated it. 
Quieter than before, you heard your boyfriend whisper, "Thank you for being here."
"Of course," you cooed before you began giggling. "Don't get used to this position though. I still prefer to be the little spoon."
And even though you weren't able to see it, you still knew that your words made him smile. 
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Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this story you should check out my Blurb Collection!
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Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @justreadingficsdontmindme @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @pauline5525mgg @sanaz1dlol @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @beepbooptoop @lovejules888 @liltimmyst @encyclo-reid-ia @lilibet261 @fandomstuffff @spencer-reid-wonderland @happymangospot @conniesanchor @ellamaianderson @cynbx @dashneydanger @melifluorei-d @bitchassbecky691 @iameternallylonely @hotchandspencearedilfs @amititties @castiels-majestic-wings @torigorie @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @reidtopia @velvetthunder93 @cncoxlifeline @jordie-gvf-admin @saturnstringz @missabsey @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @snapeknot @enamoradax @hales-17
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joelmillerisapunk · 2 months
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Italy ~ let go and let daddy
soft daddy!Joel x f!reader
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Masterlist ♥︎ Soft Daddy Masterlist
Wordcount: 4,915
Summary: As your adventure begins, it becomes clear that Joel is determined to make this the best summer of your life.
Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, f oral receiving, lots of soft daddy stuff - like so much, use of 'baby girl, good girl, my girl, baby, daddy', reader has breasts and wears a dress, just Joel doting on you so so hard. The endinnnggggg 👀🤭
Notes: Hi friendinos! Thank you for waiting so patienly for this! I wish I could write them here forever so I could have them see more, but Joel has a short timeline to show reader the world, shining, shimmering, splendid.
Joel's song for this entire AU: To Be With You - Mr. Big
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As you start your summer adventure headed to Italy, you can feel the excitement building up inside of you. You never expected that you'd be traveling the world let alone with an older man like Joel, a man you've only been seeing on and off for a short while, but as you think back to your time with him, you know that he's going to take care of you, and you can't wait to see what kind of adventures he has planned.
Joel's plane tickets are first class, and as you board the plane, you can't believe how luxurious everything is. You're immediately struck by the opulence of the interior. The plane is decorated in rich, warm tones, with plush leather seats and polished wood accents.
You notice the attentive service. The flight attendants welcome you aboard with warm smiles and promptly offer you a glass of champagne. You feel like you're dreaming. The most you've ever been offered on a normal flight is a packaged biscuit and half a can of cola.
As you settle into your seat, which feels like an entire room, you can't help but feel pampered. The seat itself is incredibly comfortable, with ample legroom and a built-in massage function that you take advantage of immediately. The entertainment system is state-of-the-art, with a wide selection of movies, TV shows, and music to choose from.
And just when you get settled, you're presented with a menu featuring dishes prepared by a Michelin-starred chef, complete with wine pairings selected by an expert sommelier. You opt for the seared scallops with cauliflower puree to start, followed by a tender filet mignon with truffle mashed potatoes.
Obviously the food is impeccably presented, and each bite is a symphony of flavors. You feel like you could get used to this. As the flight attendants clear away the food Joel suggests watching a movie together and after a brief disagreement about which one to choose, him wanting action, you wanting something a little less intense, he finally relents and decides on watching "The Notebook," a movie that he knows you love. However, he takes forever trying to line up the movie on his device so that it plays at the exact same time as yours.
"Come on, Joel. Just press play already," you say, giggling.
"Okay, okay. But I want to make sure we're synced up perfectly," he responds, trying to fix the timing one last time. “Okay press play on yours in -” he pauses to look over at your screen and then back at his, “in 5 seconds.”
“Yes sir.” You wink at him.
Finally, he presses play, and as the movie progresses, you find yourself getting lost in the story you laugh, you cry, and you even find yourself holding Joel's hand during the more emotional scenes. Joel is surprisingly engaged in the movie, laughing at all the right moments and making thoughtful comments about the characters and their motivations.
You can't help but feel a warm glow spreading through your chest as you listen to him. You've never felt this close to anyone before - not like this, at least. You find yourself getting lost in Joel's gaze, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the way you can almost hear a southern twang when he laughs too hard.
He suddenly glances over, looking at you, his eyes are filled with warmth and tenderness. You feel a flutter in your chest, and you can't help but smile.
"What?" he asks, grinning.
"Nothing. I just... I'm happy,"
"Me too, darlin'. Me too," he says. "I'm glad you're here with me.”
"Me too," you whisper, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.
Throughout the rest of the flight, you're constantly amazed by the level of service. The flight attendants anticipate your every need, making sure your glass is always full and your needs are met. Even the bathroom is luxurious, with plush towels and premium skincare products.
As you prepare to land, it's clear that Joel has pulled out all the stops to make this trip unforgettable.
When you arrive, Joel has arranged for a private car to take you to your destination and as you ride through the winding streets of Italy, you can't help but feel like you're in some kind of dream.
When you step out of the car, you're immediately struck by the beauty of the where youre staying. The architecture is a stunning blend of modern and traditional Italian styles, with intricate details and ornate accents that reflect the country's rich history. The grounds are immaculately maintained, with lush gardens, sprawling lawns, and a picturesque courtyard. As you enter the lobby, you're greeted by a warm, inviting atmosphere.
The hotel staff is impeccably attired, with friendly smiles and welcoming words. They escort you to the check-in desk, where you're presented with a chilled glass of prosecco and a warm, freshly baked cookie. The check-in process is seamless, and as Joel finishes with the receptionist, she provides you both with a detailed itinerary of the hotel's amenities and services.
-
After settling into your private villa, you can't help but marvel at the incredible space as you start to walk around. You've never seen a place so big. The living room is spacious and inviting, with plush sofas and armchairs arranged around a crackling fireplace. The dining area features a table that can seat at least ten, with crystal china and silverware already laid out for your convenience. The bedroom is a true sanctuary, with a comfortable king-sized bed adorned with plush linens and pillows. A flat-screen TV hangs across from it on the wall. The ensuite bathroom has a deep soaking tub, a separate shower, and a dual vanity area and is stocked with luxurious bath products, including high-quality soaps and scented candles. And just as you think you've seen it all, you discover a fully equipped kitchen, a home office, and a private patio with an outdoor grill and dining area.
The pièce de résistance, however, is the private pool off the bedroom, which features a stunning infinity edge that seems to blend seamlessly into the ocean beyond.
After you spend some more time exploring the Villa, Joel interrupts you, leading you out to a separate balcony that overlooks the ocean and picturesque view. He stands behind you, his hands wrapping around your waist.
You both stand there enjoying the moment before you say something, “what a beautiful view, huh?”
But Joel's not paying attention to the view. He's studying you, how you look so surprised and happy. He never takes his eyes off you when he replies, “sure is darlin’, nothing more beautiful.” He pauses for a moment longer. “Now come with me." He grabs your hand and leads you to the massively oversized bed and helps you sit down on the edge. He has a mischievous glint in his eye, and you can tell that he's excited.
“Alright, close your eyes.”
You do as he says.
He quickly starts moving a small table in front of you and positioning boxes and bags onto it.
You hear the rustling of tissue paper and your curiosity peaks.
“Okay - open.”
Your jaw drops in amazement. In front of you are an array of beautifully wrapped boxes, each one perfectly tied with a satin ribbon. In addition, there are bags from some of the most exclusive designer stores in the world, Gucci, Prada, and Versace. Joel smiles at your reaction.
“Joel, this is too much, I -”
Joel interrupts you before you can finish your sentence. "No, no, darlin'. It's not. I want you to have the best of everything. You deserve it. Just open ‘em, please." He says, almost desperate.
You look up at him a little unsure, before slowly getting off the bed like you're trying to be quiet.
“Here,” Joel intercepts with a box, he can still see your clear reservations about all of this.
You're overwhelmed by the sheer luxury of the items inside. There are designer dresses, shoes, handbags, and accessories, each one more beautiful than the last. You try on a few pieces, and they fit you perfectly, as if they were made just for you. But you can't help feeling a mix of emotions. On one hand, you're overwhelmed by the generosity and thoughtfulness of Joel's gifts. You've never had anything this extravagant before, and you can't believe that someone would go to such lengths to make you feel special.
On the other hand, you can't shake the feeling that you don't deserve any of this. You've always been a simple girl, content with the basics, and never really needing much more. You've never been one to indulge in luxury, and the thought of wearing designer clothes and accessories makes you a little uneasy, like a fish out of water. But as you look up at Joel, you can see the joy and excitement in his eyes. He's clearly thrilled to be able to share this with you. You can't bring yourself to disappoint him. So you push your reservations aside and continue to try on the beautiful items, smiling and thanking him with each new gift.
"Joel, these are all so beautiful. I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll wear them for me,"his eyes are sparkling with excitement. "I want to see you in all of these beautiful things. You deserve to feel as special and loved as you are, darlin'."
You can't help but be touched by Joel's words. You've never felt this seen or appreciated by anyone before. You take a deep breath and push your reservations aside once again. "Okay, I'll wear them for you," you say, smiling up at Joel. "I can't believe you did all of this for me."
“I can’t believe how damn good you look, baby.”
Joel's face lights up with each outfit change. He wants to help you try them on, but you force him to stay while you run in and out of the bathroom, piecing each option together.
As you try on the last item, a stunning designer gown that fits you like your fairy godmother had magically placed it on you, you stop to look at yourself in such disbelief that this is even happening. When you step out, Joel takes your hand and spins you around, looking you up and down.
"Better call NASA because you're out of this world, darlin." Joel's face is filled with admiration as he takes in your appearance. "Wow, just wow, takin’ my breath away. Can't wait to show you off."
You feel your body get warm with pleasure at his words. You've never felt this beautiful before. The dress really is stunning, and it makes you feel like a million bucks.
After trying on all of the beautiful clothing and accessories, you and Joel decide to head out for a romantic dinner at a local Italian restaurant. The food is delicious, and the atmosphere is warm and intimate. You can't help but feel grateful for this amazing experience and for the man sitting across from you. As the night wears on, you can see the exhaustion setting in on Joel's face. He's been going nonstop since you arrived, making sure every detail of your trip is perfect.
"Joel, why don't we head back to the hotel? You look exhausted," you suggest.
"I am a bit tired, darlin'. But I don't want the night to end just yet. How ‘bout we head back and I'll run you a bath?"
You can't help but feel a surge of love for this man. He's always taking care of you, always making sure you're happy and comfortable. "Only if you join me," you say, smiling at him.
“Wouldn't have it any other way.”
As you make your way back to the hotel, you can feel the tiredness setting in on your own body as well. The day has been a whirlwind of excitement and new experiences, and you're looking forward to a relaxing bath.
When you arrive back at the villa, Joel guides you to the bed. You sit on the edge, feeling the comforting pull of the bed beneath you. You're about to reach for your shoes, but Joel grabs your wrist and kneels down in front of you. “Let daddy take care of you.”
Joel starts to undress you slowly, taking his time to savor every moment. As he removes your shoes, he kisses your feet gently, causing you to giggle and squirm with delight. He then moves up to your legs, gently rolling down your stockings and kissing your thighs as he goes.
“You deserve to be taken care of, baby girl. You've had a long day, wanna make sure you're comfortable."
"Thank you, Daddy," you say, smiling down at him.
Joel's face lights up at your words. He stands up and takes your hand to help you to your feet, he turns you so your back is facing him and he slowly unzips the your dress, his fingers brushing against your skin as he goes. The fabric slides off your shoulders, revealing your bare skin underneath. Joel can't help but let out a low whistle as he takes in your bare shoulders and the curve of your back.
"You're so beautiful, darlin',"
He helps you step out of the dress, carefully folding it and setting it aside. He then turns his attention back to you, slowly sliding your bra straps down your arms, and unclasping it in the back. Then he works your panties off. You feel a shiver of pleasure run down your spine as he undresses you. It's like he's worshipping your body.
Once you're completely naked, Joel helps you onto the bed, covering you with a soft blanket and tucking you in. He leans down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin. "Be right back, darlin'. I'm gonna run you a bath and get everything ready," he murmurs.
You nod, feeling a sense of warmth and safety spreading through your chest. You snuggle deeper into the blankets, your mind drifting as you wait for Joel to return.
Joel returns carrying two flutes of champagne. He sets them down on the bedside table and then helps you up from the bed. He grabs the drinks, and you make your way to the bathroom. The tub is filled with steaming hot water and scented bubbles. Candles flicker on the edges, casting a warm, inviting glow.
Joel holds your hand as you step into the tub, making sure you don't slip. Once you're settled in, he hands you a champagne flute. "For you, my love," he says, his eyes sparkling with affection.
The name catches you off guard. He's never called you something so - relationshipy. But you try not to think too much about that and take a sip of the champagne, feeling the bubbles dance on your tongue. It's the perfect complement to the warm, soothing water.
Joel joins you in the bathtub. He sits down behind you, his legs on either side of your body. He takes the washcloth and begins to gently wash your body, starting at your shoulders. His touch is tender and loving, and you can feel your body relax under his ministrations.
As he washes you, he praises you, telling you how beautiful and sexy you are. He tells you how much he loves your body and how much he loves being with you. His words are like a balm to your soul. He moves up to your hair, massaging your scalp with his fingers. It feels so good that you can't help but let out a soft moan. Joel smiles. "That's it, darlin'. Let go and let daddy take care of you.” As he moves down and washes your neck, he leans in to press a soft kiss to your skin, causing you to shiver with pleasure.
"You like that, baby girl?" he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear.
"Yes, daddy, feels so good," you whisper.
Joel smiles, pleased with your response. He continues to wash you, moving down to your shoulders and arms. Massaging your muscles with the washcloth, helping to ease any tension or knots. His hands move down to your chest. He washes your breasts gently, taking care to avoid your nipples. You can feel your body responding to his touch, your breasts feeling sensitive.
"Daddy.." you moan, your voice filled with longing.
"I know, baby," Joel replies, his voice low and husky. "But, I want to take care of you first. You deserve to be pampered."
He moves down to your stomach and hips. He's meticulous and thorough, making sure to cover every inch of you. As he reaches your thighs, he pauses for a moment, his fingers lingering on your skin.
"Can I wash you here, darlin'?".
“Yes please.” You're so turned on that you can feel yourself trembling with anticipation. Joel smiles, pleased with your response. He washes you gently, his fingers exploring your folds with care.
His fingers keep rubbing over your clit again and again, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge. "Daddy, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..." you moan, unable to finish your sentence.
"Shhh s'okay," Joel replies, his voice soothing, as he kisses the top of your head. "I've got you baby."
With those words, you let yourself go, your body shuddering with pleasure. Joel holds you close, his free arm wrapped around you as he whispers into your ear as you come down from your high, “there's my good girl, always so good for me.”
As you come down from your orgasm, you can't help but feel a little embarrassed at how loudly you moaned. But Joel's gentle touch and soothing words help to put you at ease.
"You're so beautiful when you come, princess," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.
As the water starts to cool, Joel helps you out of the tub and wraps you in a soft, fluffy towel and leads you to the bed, helping you to lie down on your back.
All you can do is let out a contented sigh as you relax into the bed.
"Does daddy need to take care of his baby?” he asks.
You nod, unable to speak. You're stuck in some kind of love haze, and all you feel is calm and euphoric.
"S'okay baby, you don't have to think about anything, just relax, let daddy do all the work.” He hums as he starts to massage your shoulders, working out any knots or tension that you might have. His strong hands move down your arms. You can feel your muscles melting beneath his fingers. As his hands move down to your chest, he pauses for a moment, "Can daddy play with your tits, baby?"
“Mhmm..” You lightly moan
He starts to massage your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples until they're hard and sensitive. You can feel yourself getting wetter with every touch.
As his hands move down to your hips and then your thighs, he finds your sensitive nub and starts to rub slow circles over the bundle of nerves. Your breathing becomes frantic, “Daddy need you inside me, I- fuck -”
"I know, I know, my princess, but first you gonna come all over daddy's fingers, arentcha? Dont worry m’gonna take real good care of this beautiful pussy."
Joel's fingers continue to work their magic, building you up to the brink of ecstasy once again. You can feel yourself getting close, your hips bucking against his hand as you chase your release. "That's it, baby," Joel murmurs, his voice a low growl in your ear. "Let daddy make you feel good."
With a final thrust of his fingers, you come apart, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Joel holds you close, murmuring words of love and praise as you ride out the waves of pleasure. “Oh, I know, I know, I gotcha baby girl, you're okay daddy's here.”
When you finally come down from your high, Joel begins to kiss his way down your body, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He pauses at your hips, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin as he looks up at you.
"You're so damn perfect, darlin'," he says, his voice filled with awe. "Daddy’s gonna have a lil snack now, okay?"
You nod your consent, your breath hitching in your throat as Joel's mouth descends on your clit. He licks and sucks, his tongue exploring every inch of you as you writhe beneath him. It's overwhelming, the sensation of his mouth on you, his fingers inside you, and you can feel yourself building up to another orgasm already.
"Daddy, I'm gonna come again," you gasp, your fingers threading through Joel's hair as you hold him close.
"Come for me, baby," Joel murmurs against your skin. "Soak daddy's face.”
With a final thrust of his fingers and a flick of his tongue, you come undone, your orgasm shuddering through you like an earthquake. Joel stays with you, his mouth on you as you buck around, until the last aftershock fades away.
When he finally pulls away, he crawls up your body, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it only serves to heighten your desperation for him even more.
"Need to be inside you, darlin'," Joel growls. "Need to feel you wrapped around me."
“Please daddy, please.”
He gently caresses your cheeks with his large hands. The sensation feels similar to being in a sensory deprivation tank, making you feel calm and warm. His hands cradle your face like it's made of the most delicate china. “Shhh, baby, I'm here, m’gonna give you whatcha need,” he says before kissing the top of your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a moment.
He pulls away and positions himself at your entrance, his eyes locked on yours as he pushes inside, inch by inch. You're so wet, so ready for him, that he slides in easily, filling you up in a way that makes you feel like you're home.
Joel starts to move, his thrusts slow and deep. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. You can feel the tension building up inside of you again, the coil of pleasure in your belly getting tighter and tighter.
"Daddy, I - I can't, gonna come again," you gasp, your fingers digging into Joel's shoulders. The feeling is incredibly overwhelming this time as Joel's rock hard cock fills your walls, it feels like he could break through and rip you to shreds.
"Yes baby, come for me," Joel growls, his thrusts getting faster, harder. "Come for daddy.” He never takes his eyes off you, “That's a good girl.”
As your orgasm crashes over you, you feel yourself clenching around Joel's cock, your walls pulsing in time with the waves of pleasure. Joel lets out a low growl as he feels you coming, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his own release.
"Fuck, darlin'," he groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he pounds into you. "I'm gonna come, baby."
You can feel him swelling inside of you, his cock twitching as he gets closer and closer to the edge. With one final thrust, he comes undone, his release filling you up in a way that makes you feel impossibly full.
Joel collapses on top of you, his heavy weight making you feel warm and safe and secure. eventually, he shifts his weight, so he's beside you and wrapping you in his arms. "My princess," he murmurs, stroking your hair lovingly. You look up at him, your heart pounding rapidly in your chest. His brown eyes gaze down at you.
Your hand reaches out, your fingertips running along the side of his face, his stubble scraping against your skin. Joel leans down, his nose brushing against yours, his lips inches from yours.
"Thank you," you say softly. You want to thank him for being there for you, for loving you unconditionally, for taking care of you, and giving you everything.
"There's nothin' to thank me for,” he replies tenderly. "I couldn't be happier than I am right now, havin' you in my arms."
You rest your head against his chest, your eyes fluttering closed. You're not sure how long you lie there, but eventually, you start to feel the pull of sleep. Your eyelids grow heavy, and your breathing evens out.
When you wake up, you're not sure how long you've been asleep, but you feel refreshed and energized. Joel is still lying beside you, his arm still wrapped around you.
"Hey, sleepyhead," Joel murmurs, his voice thick with sleep.
"Hey," you reply softly, turning to face him.
Joel's eyes are still closed, but he's smiling. "How'd you sleep?"
"Like a baby," you reply, snuggling closer to him.
Joel's arms tighten around you, and you can feel his heart beating faster. "Good," he murmurs. "I have a surprise for you."
You look up at him, your curiosity piqued. "What is it?"
"It's a surprise," Joel says, his eyes still closed. "But I think you're going to like it."
You wait patiently, your mind racing with possibilities. Finally, Joel opens his eyes and sits up. "Come on, get dressed," he says, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
You do as he says, slipping on a pair of jeans and a cute top. You're not sure what Joel has planned, but you're excited to find out.
When you're ready, Joel takes your hand and leads you out of the Villa. You follow him through the lobby and out onto the street. Joel leads you through the winding streets, pointing out different landmarks and telling you little stories about each one.
Eventually, you come to a small courtyard, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the city. In the center of the courtyard, there's a wall covered in locks, each one engraved with the names of two people.
"This is the wall of love locks," Joel says, his voice soft. "Couples come here to declare their love for each other, and then they throw away the key."
You look up at him, your eyes wide. "That's so romantic," you say, your heart fluttering in your chest.
Joel smiles at you, taking your hand. "I want to add our own lock to the wall, if that's okay with you."
You nod, your eyes filling with tears. "That would be amazing, I've always dreamed of seeing this. "You say, your voice thick with emotion.
Joel leads you over to the wall, and you pick out a lock together. You engrave your names on it, along with the date, and then you secure it to the wall.
As you throw away the key, you feel a sense of finality.
Joel's face breaks out into a wide smile, pulling you into a tight embrace. As you stand there, surrounded by the love of the people who came before you, you can't help but feel a sense of unease and happiness mixing together.
Eventually, you make your way back to the hotel. Joel pauses in the lobby, “Hey, you head up, princess, just need to check on something at the front desk.” he hands you the key card and watches you disappear into the elevator.
He walks up to the front desk, “hello Mr. Miller, how can I be of service?”
“Just checking in for a delivery, small box?”
“Ah, yes, it was just delivered. One moment, sir.”
The receptionist heads into a room behind the desk, not long before coming back out with a small box in their gloved hand.
Joel takes the small black box and opens it, staring at the stunning ring nestled inside. He knows that he's found something special with you, and he's not going to let it go. He's going to make sure that you have the best summer of your life, and he's going to make sure that you never forget him.
Thank you so much for reading! Where should they go next?
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