#i have to get used to drawing his bottom half
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|| Sweatpants (Frank's version) ||
Frank Castle x female reader
Tags/warnings: this is just an exploration in thirst (and smut) similar to the blurb I wrote for Matt, about slutty grey sweatpants. I want to lick him.
A very sweaty man, oral sex (m and f), come eating. E. Also, PLEASE, PLEASE reblog if you enjoyed, likes are nice, comments even better! There is NO algorithm on Tumblr, reblogs are how things are found on your dash! Thank you so much 💕
This isn't fair.
Yeah, it's hot, but it still isn't fair.
You'd long abandoned any notion of working out while you were at Fogwell’s tonight, Frank unknowingly saw to that. Your kettlebells lay off to the side, long forgotten. Your initial warm up would never have gotten you as heated inside as you are now, seeing what you're seeing.
Those goddamn grey sweats he's wearing are barely hanging on to his hips. You're sure they're actually screaming out to you for help.
Take us off, they seem to be whispering. You're honestly surprised they haven't yet fallen down of their own accord with the way he's been swiping hard at the punchbag for the last half-hour.
He performs the same routine over and over, several powerful jabs, hooks and uppercuts and then he'll back off, doing a little lap of the ring to reset himself. And every time you get a glorious view of his bare upper body, the way the sweat glows on his taut pectoral muscles, the way his abs flex as he moves, the gorgeous curve of his stomach, framed by the defined V lines leading your gaze all the way down from his swaggering hips as he strides past you.
Good God. His ass looks amazing too.
When he bounces back and forth on the balls of his feet you can't help notice something else bouncing up against the slack fabric of those fucking ridiculous sweats of his…
Your mouth is practically hanging wide open now. You blindly reach for the bottle of water next to you to quench your thirst, knocking it over and spilling some in the process.
It's just not fair.
He must know. He must. He's gotta know what all this is doing to you, how can he not?!
Your eyes lock onto an innocent bead of sweat, following as it slowly trails its merry way down his heaving body to the sweatband of his pants, soaking into the soft fabric where you know it'll leave that musky scent you just want nothing more than to bury your nose in.
You bite down so hard on your bottom lip you're beginning to wear a divot into it.
It's insane. They're slung so criminally low on his hips that you can almost see where his happy trail is leading, the dark fuzz drawing your eyes down again toward-
“You alright?”
That gruff, grizzled voice of his knocks you out of your reverie. Are you?
You resemble a doped up kitty that's just returned from the vet, your eyes wide, dark, and spaced out as he's suddenly very close to you right in front of your face. He's pulling off his hand wraps and leaning across to grab some water from the bag that's lying open on the bench next to you.
He smells so good.
You can feel the heat from his worked muscles radiating off him, can almost taste the fresh sweat off him, absently licking your lips again as you watch him run a hand up over his damp forehead and through his hair.
“Y-yeah?” When you eventually reply he cracks a smile that definitely ruins your panties, as if they weren't ruined already.
“Okay. M'gonna hit the shower.”
Oh
Oh no.
No no no, you can't have that.
“W-wait!” You stutter out, and you're on your feet, somehow the keys to the gym that Matt had left with you are grasped in your hand, and in a blur you're locking the door, pulling down all the blinds and you've got your fingers splayed over his chest trying to push Frank down onto the mat on the floor.
“Whoa, okay mama. It's like that is it?” Frank huffs out a chuckle but he goes exactly where you want him to, still catching his breath as you straddle his hips.
“...you're evil,” you murmur, tracing your fingertips over and around his nipples and watching how the muscles under your nails twitch as you draw them down to your target.
Frank looks up at you with that confused puppy expression with his brows almost crashing into each other that always melts your heart, but this time it's just making you even more determined.
“Evil huh? Shit. What have I done now?”
“Driving me crazy…”
“C'mon sweetheart, you gotta give me a clue or somethin’.”
You pull teasingly at the damp elastic waistband of his pants, “These.” you muse, letting it snap back against his skin then lowering yourself to lick slowly along the deep groove at his hip. Your eyes shut as you finally get the sweaty, musky taste of your man on your tongue. A soft grunt leaves him as he cranes his neck to watch, his dick already showing interest too as your mouth makes it way lower. He reaches down, his hand just resting on your shoulder, fingers tapping lightly to get your attention.
“H-hey darlin’, not that I don't appreciate it but… we doin’ this? Here? Now?” Frank asks with a very slight nervousness. It's freaking adorable.
You look up at him through your eyelashes knowing he'll fold soon enough. “Yeah we're doing this here and now, Frankie. I already told you - you're driving me crazy, and you were distracting me so much that I still need to workout.”
He smirks and you can see him start to get more comfortable with the idea of some naked shenanigans with you in Matt's gym.
“All because of these pants?” He asks.
“All because of those pants,” You reply, curling your fingertips around the waistband of them again. “along with the way you look like a giant snack in them.”
Frank scoffs, but lays his head back down and lifts his hips up as you tug at the ‘problematic’ pants to pull them down. Predictably, as discerned from your earlier observations, and much to your delight, he's gone commando today. You hum as his fully erect cock is freed, slapping against his stomach with a delicious smack.
“Fuck, Frank…’ you say, taking in the rare sight of him laying almost prone for you.
What to do…
“Hey princess, you're the boss.” He says perceptively, waiting so patiently for your lust-addled brain to decide whether you want to stuff your mouth or pussy with him.
It's a much easier decision than you thought, relishing in the familiar, quiet curses Frank is making as you start to work your way back up his thick, muscular legs, placing kisses wherever you want. When you reach his groin, you nose at the thatch of hair around the base of his cock, idly stroking and gently cupping his balls.
“Mm, I'm the boss.” You repeat back at him, smile sweetly as he grins at you.
“Yeah, that's right, oh shit-”
He makes a choked sound in the back of his throat and his cock twitches as you move your lips to the base, your tongue sneaking out to kitten lick his ball sac, gradually moving upwards, starting to trace along the thick vein that runs the salty length of his perfect dick.
You listen and are rewarded with the soft, low moan that comes from his throat when you keep going, the flat of your warm, wet tongue lapping underneath the head. He throbs again, a drop of precum beading and ready to leak from his slit.
“You're so good for me, Frankie.”
He's got those deep brown eyes trained hard on you, licking his lips, his chest rising with the deeper breaths he's drawing. They only increase as you wrap your fingers to grip around the base of him and then swipe and swirl your tongue to taste him. He moans, biting down his lip as you take him into your mouth, sealing your lips around his girth. Having him, the man the rest of the world only knows as the Punisher, his pleasure at your mercy, is maybe the most powerful feeling in the world. Or maybe that's when you have your own thighs wrapped around his head. It's a tricky one to answer.
“Fuuuck, sweetheart…” Frank hisses out, his hands self-restrained by his sides, “Mm, jesus christ!”
You hum around him as you pull your lips back to his tip before taking him as deep into your throat as you can manage, your hand working the rest of him. You repeat the motion, spit dripping down to his length and over your fingers helping your squeeze and twist, feeling the way he's almost shaking beneath you.
“God damn you're so good, so damn good to me baby.”
Your free hand switches between reaching up to dig your nails into the meat of his pectoral muscle and sliding down between his legs to gently tug and tease his balls. He groans loudly, you'd made a point in the past of making it known to him just how much hearing the sounds of his pleasure turns you on, and he had gradually rewarded you with more and more feedback.
You're almost entirely focused on him but now you can no longer ignore the incessant ache at your core. You're slick from almost an hour of getting yourself worked up at the sight of Frank boxing, still sucking and licking the length of his cock as you slip your hand into your leggings and under the soft fabric of your underwear. You moan around him as the pads of your fingertips slide over your clit, aware that Frank is propping himself up on his elbows to watch you.
“You want my mouth, mama? C'mon an get up here. Sit right here baby, let me take care of you.”
You release him temporarily to shuck off the clothes from your bottom half because you cannot refuse an offer like that.
He curls his arms around your bare thighs as soon as you straddle him facing towards his feet, pulling you straight down onto his hungry mouth without delay. You grind down to meet him as he laps at your glistening cunt, a wavering moan leaving your lips as you reach again for his rock hard, weeping red cock. You stretch your tongue out to lick and suck what you can, jerking him off as he devours your pussy like it's his last ever meal.
This was supposed to be all about him but as usual he's managed to flip the script and somehow make it all about you. You're hardly complaining, no. In fact you're riding Frank's face hard as his encouraging moans vibrate right through your core. He loves going down on you, could even say he lives for it, inviting you to sit right on his face almost every time you're intimate with each other.
Now that he's not snug in your throat he bends his knees and starts to thrust his hips up against the direction of your firm strokes, driven by the way you're grinding and rocking your own more quickly, completely covering his mouth and chin with a sheen of your arousal. You concentrate the tight circle of your forefinger and thumb just under the fat, wet head of his cock, twisting and squeezing up and over because you know that's what gets him panting and praising you. More salty pre trickles out and you eagerly lap it up.
You yelp as Frank thrusts his tongue as deep as he can inside you, fucking you with it before he nudges forward again, slurping and sucking at your puffy clit. The tightness and tension of your impending release is gathering pace as you hear how feral Frank sounds between your legs. You can barely keep a rhythm with either hips or hands but it doesn't seem to matter as you can tell he's as close as you are. You're half worried you'll smother him with the ferocity and strength with which he's holding you so close to him, as if he needs you to breathe.
Suddenly, the tension snaps, hard. His tongue making you cry out, your legs shaking underneath your wildly undulating hips as you climax, calling out his name repeatedly like a prayer, the sound reverberating around the gym. Your hand is barely moving on his cock but it's you quivering and moaning in ecstasy right on his face that sets him off. He's tapping his fingers against your hips in warning, as very quickly afterwards his own hips jerk up and with a muffled groan against your pulsing pussy, his cock spurts its creamy load. You catch some on your waiting tongue, the rest dribbling warmly on your fingers and down onto his tensing stomach and abs.
After a brief moment getting your bearings and breath back, you're both humming, satisfied, and softly laughing with each other. He supports you as you gingerly lift your leg over his head and turn yourself around to face him. He's licking his lips, the biggest smile on his gorgeously wrecked face, his eyes half-lidded as he pulls you down to him for a languid kiss, tasting each other on you as your tongues slide over one another. At the same time you're trying to find somewhere to place your come-covered hand so it doesn't go everywhere and you don't lose your balance.
“Mmm, okay you can't tell me that wasn't fun.” You say, and then your lips turn down as you remember something vital.
“Shit.”
Frank looks up at you, his expression one of concern. “What's wrong?”
“Urgh, Matt will know. He'll know even if we clean the mats and everything!” You groan again, wiping off your messy fingers on Frank's discarded sweatpants. “He won't let this go, we probably won't be allowed back in the gym!”
Frank just shrugs, a damn sight more relaxed now as he cleans himself off with them too.
“I'm pretty sure Murdock's done way worse in here. He aint that pure."
His lips curl into a grin. "Anyway, don't know ‘bout you, but I'll be puttin’ the blame on these pants. More trouble than they're worth, ain't that right, sweetheart?”
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Still trying to get used to drawing Betrayus but here's his highness with a even more dramatic headmaster
#dont look at the hand#i hate drawing his hair#but god hes so slay#idk but hed rock heels#slay your highness#i have to get used to drawing his bottom half#aughbnn#a design so simple yet so complex#hhhhhh#my art#max talks#lord Betrayus#pmatga#Monokuma
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morning runs | ln
the one where your boyfriend finds you fast asleep in your hotel bed when he returns from his morning run.
lando norrix x fem!reader
word count: ~1.0k
warnings: smut MINORS DNI!!!!, porn without plot, somnophilia, p in v, unprotected sex (as always, take care please), slight praise
note: those pictures of him running around melbourne with his shirt off have sent me into a spiral and they're the only thing i could think about for the past two days. i could not help myself.
no matter how many times you travelled long distances, you still weren't used to it; jet lag always kicked your ass every time you went to a race on the other side of the world with lando, messing up your sleeping schedule to the point it ended up knocking you out for the vast majority of the day.
you were trying your best to adapt to the time change, but it always took you a few days to get it right. this year, lando had decided that morning runs were the way to beat jet lag.
he had asked you to join a few times, promising it would be helpful, but the drowsiness made it impossible for you to climb out of bed that early and be productive. that's why he had left all by himself early in the morning, tucking you in and planting a soft kiss on your forehead before walking out the hotel room.
he came back only a few hours later, cheeks flushed and a thin layer of sweat covering his chest, tank top in hand. when he walked into your shared room, he found you were still in bed, in the same position he had left you earlier, sheets sprawled out barely covering your body now.
he softly smiled at the sight before him, the dim light that entered the room from the blinds tempting him to get back in bed with you. he would. righter after taking a shower, he promised himself.
however, he walked to where you were, smiling at your sleepy expression.
"i love you," he mumbled, leaning down to peck your slightly parted lips. he raised his eyebrows when he heard a small whimper leave your throat and you shifted around a little, his eyes scanning your half-naked body.
you were only weating one of his shirts. not that it was something you never did before, but something about tour drowsy state was drawing him in. he sat right beside you on the mattress, trying not to woke you up and his fingers slowly reached for your legs, stroking your bare sking tenderly with the tip of his fingers.
you sighed softly at his warm touch, stretching your body and your shirt sliding up, letting him have a look at your underwear. he moved his hand up, up, up, until his fingertips brushed against the hem of your panties. as if it was muscle memory, your legs slowly spread open for him.
and fuck, was it tempting.
it wouldn't be the first time you woke up to his fingers buried deep inside you or his head between your legs, but he knew this time you were too tired. and he would have stood up and taken a shower if you hadn't whimpered his name in your sleep the second he withdrew his hand from your core. the sweet sound that fell from your lips made him smile, fingers slowly going back to pull your underwear to the side so he could get a proper look at you.
his smirk grew wider at the sight of how wet you were, and when you stirred the second he softly pressed his thumb against your clit, he knew he couldn't just leave you yet. lazily, he got rid of his own clothes, discarding them on the floor and hovered over your body, pulling your shirt up to your hips gently, still not wanting to disturb your sleep.
"look so pretty like this, baby," he mumbled before leaning down to kiss your cheek as he slid his already hard cock between your folds, slowly pushing inside of you only a few seconds later. a low groan escaped his throat as you easily took all of him; the fact that you were so ready for him, even in your unaware state, making him smile once more.
he stilled his body as he bottomed out for a few seconds, his eyes taking in your sweet expression. he brushed a strand of your hair back as he started rolling his hips slowly, his breath getting heavier as you hummed in your sleep.
the groan he let out right next to your ear as you unconciously clenched around him woke you up, making your body squirm in confussion under him.
"s'me, baby..." he slurred, still fucking you slowly and gently. "it's just me, don't worry."
you softly whimpered when you heard your boyfriend's voice and felt his weight on you, chest pressed against yours.
"lando..." the moan that left your lips was low, and you lazily wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him close. your eyes fluttered open only to find out he was looking right back at you. through half-lidded eyes, you could see the slight flush of his cheeks, a chuckle leaving your lips before you closed them again.
"you're doing so good," he whispered, keeping his thrusts gentle, not wanting to take you out of your sleepy state. "my pretty, pretty baby," he added, bumping his nose on yours to kiss your lips before hiding his face in the crook of your neck and spreading little kisses all over your skin.
the build up was slow, whispered praises and sighs being the only sound filling the room that turned into low whimpers as soon as you felt your toes curling, your pussy tightening around your boyfriend's cock, stealing a string of curses from his lips when you felt him filling you up.
after a few seconds, he slowly rolled the two of you on the mattress, your body now on top of his with him still buried inside of you.
"go back to sleep, baby," he murmured, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lips and pulling the bedsheets over your bodies again, his arms holding you close to his chest, keeping you warm and comfortable.
#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris fluff#lando norris blurb#lando norris drabble#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#ln4 fluff#ln4 fic#ln4 imagine#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 smut
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Please support Yassin (@/yassindraws on twitter) if you have an account there. He's an Egyptian artist who is a victim of the regime's crackdown on protestors. He posts a lot of beautiful paintings.
Here's a some of them documenting his trauma from his time in prison.
[ID: Responding to a tweet by @/MustafaHosny that reads: "ايه الدعاء اللي نفسك يتحقق في ليلة القدر؟", a quote retweet by @/yassindraws that reads: "خروج كل المحبوسين ظلم و يعيشوا حياتهم و ينسوا كل الأيام الحزينة و يكون عندهم ذكريات سعيدة زي ما بقى عندي دلوقتي".
Attached is a traditional painting, depicting a man peering through a tiny window in his jail cell door. He is wearing a white T-shirt that says "تحقيق" and is turned away from the viewer. While his torso is distinct, his bottom half melds into the background, which is a vague pattern of teal and brown hues, meant to represent the wall, but also overcomes parts of the prisoners himself and the cell door, and bleeds into their outlines.]
[Translation: Responding a tweet that reads "What prayer do you wish will come true on the night of destiny?", he tweets "The emancipation of all the unjustly imprisoned, and that they will be able to live fulfilling lives and forget these miserable days, and be able to make beautiful memories like I have now."
The word on his shirt in the painting is an Arabic word that could be translated to either "interrogation" or "realisation".
The night of destiny is the night where the full moon appears during the month of Ramadan.]
[ID: A tweet by @/yassindraws captioned "Memory". Attached is a traditional painting, depicting a dozen prisoners dressed all in blue, facing against the wall with their heads bowed. All of their hands are cuffed together behind their backs, save for the prisoner nearest to the viewer, whose hands are in front of him, exposing his back to a warden who is drawing back a whip. Another warden is pointing to the prisoner. All figures are abstracted and vaguely outlined, but especially the prisoners', whose faces are not outlined at all, and instead blend with the sepia-toned walls they are facing.]
[ID: A tweet by @/yassindraws that reads: في سجن وادي النطرون صياد عجوز من سيناء مسجون من اربع سنوات كل يوم وقت التهوية "التريض" قاعد في الطرقة قدام الزنازين بيصنع شبكة علشان عنده أمل انه يخرج و يصطاد سمك بيها. لوحة رسمتها في سجن وادي النطرون ١ سنة ٢٠١٨ في شهر رمضان".
Attached is a traditional painting depicting a man in his jail cell wearing a white tank top weaving a net in red, green, and blue stripes. Where his neck and head would be, instead spouts a collection of lilac, lavender, and pink colored flowers from his tank top. At his side is a water bottle, and above it, pinned to the wall is a paper that says "هذا الوقت سيمر."]
[Translation: The tweet says "In Wadi-Al-Natroun prison, an elderly fisherman from Sinai, every day during "excercise" time he would weave a net because he has hope he will get out and catch fish with it. I painted this in Wadi-Al-Natroun prison in 2018 during the month of Ramadan."
The paper on the wall in the painting says "This time will pass.]
[ID: A tweet by @/yassindraws that reads: مسجون كان معايا في سجن استقبال طرة زنزانة 1-4 كان محبوس لمدة 4 سنين في سجن العقرب و كان بيقول دايما انه لما جالنا بقى حاسس انه خرج من السجن من شدة قسوة ظروف السجن الاول".
Attached is a traditional painting of a man slumped over a folding chair, his arms folded around his chest. Where his head would be, a single rose sprouts from the neck of his blue sweater. It appears to be wilting.]
[Translation: The tweet says "He was imprisoned with me in Tora prison cell 4-1. He spent 4 years in Al-Aqrab prison prior, and always used to say that when he transferred to join us, he felt like he was emancipated because of how brutal his previous prison experience was.]
[ID: A tweet by @/yassindraws that reads: "رسمت اللوحة دي في زنزانة رقم ١٤ انفرادي في سجن استقبال طرة 2017 كنت عايش في زنزانة لوحدي طول الوقت مبتكلمش مع حد مفيش غير حيطان مبتشوفش شمس لان الزنزانة جوة عنبر معزول".
Attached is a monochromatic traditional painting depicting a prison cell from the point of view of its sole occupant. There is a pair of slippers on the floor, and a couple of bags hanging from the ceiling. The word "الله" is written on the cell door. The painting is done almost entirely in blue, except for small specks of magenta and yellow arranged close to the center.]
[Translation: The tweet says "I painted this in cell number 14 in solitary in Tora prison. I lived in this cell all by myself with nobody to speak to but walls that never see sunlight because the cell was inside an isolated ward."
Written on the door is the word "God".]
The 2011 Revolution:
[ID: A tweet by @/yassindraws posted on the 25th of January, 2024. It says: "لما كنا بنحب بعض"
Attached is a traditional painting depicting the events in Tahrir square in Cairo, Egypt, during the protests of January 25th, 2011. The median of the square is occupied with white and cyan tents set up by the protestors. The surrounding streets are flooded with masses of people, holding up signs. Some signs are abstracted, but some of them are legible, and they read: "حرية"، "سلمية"، and "الشعب يريد اسقاط النظام".
The masses of people are depicted abstractly by alternating patterns of black and white, but some of the heads in the crowd are splotched with streaks of bright red. Some red appears to be bleeding through some of the tents as well.
In tbe very center, among the tents, is a single yellow flower, painted at a scale larger than that of any item in the painting.]
[Translation: The tweet reads "When we loved each other". The signs read "Freedom", "Nonviolence", and "The people want to dismantle the regime".]
Mosque in Alexandria:
[ID: A tweet by @/yassindraws that says "صلاة التهجد النهاردة من مسجد القائد إبراهيم- الاسكندرية".
Attached is a dichromatic traditional painting depicting a mosque in Alexandria, Egypt. The painting is done with distinct vertical strokes representing the walls of the mosque, and horizontal strokes to represent the stairs. The figures of people praying and a tree by the stairs stand out as the most cohesive elements, represented by dark silhouettes. The painting is done with cyan as a base color, dark teal for the shadows, and bright yellow for the highlights.]
[Translation: The tweet says "Tahajjud prayers today at Al-Qaaed Ibrahim Mosque- Alexandria].
[ID: A traditional painting of a man sitting down on a step in a dimly lit room, sketching on a paper on his lap.]
[ID: A tweet by @/yassindraws that reads "و انا صغير كنت بستنى اخر شهر رمضان محلات البقالة لما تبدء تبيع العاب و بلالين اللي ينحط فيها حبوب ارز و تشخلل و نعمل ازعاج للناس و كورة و مسدسات بلاستيك و كانت طموحاتنا نخرج في العيد بعيد عن اهالينا و الناس اللي تعرفنا و ننبسط".
Attached is a traditional painting of a typical Egyptian street. The road is unpaved and lined with trees. Children are marching along away from the viewer. Closest to the viewer is a figure sitting down on a stool next to a tree.]
[Translation: The tweet says "When I was a child, I would always wait for the end of the month of Ramadan so that the grocers start selling toys and balloons that we would fill up with grains of rice that we would rattle to make noise and annoy people and balls and plastic guns and our ambitions were to go out on Eid and go far away from our families and everybody who knew us and be happy".]
[ID: A tweet by @/yassindraws that reads "I'm an Egyptian artist and I made this 🌻" (It ends with a sunflower emoji.)
Attached is a video of a young man with short cropped black hair and brown skin, dressed in light beige shorts that reveal a flower tattoo on his calf, and a navy blue short-sleeved t-shirt with a pattern of green and rose leaves. He is turned away from the viewer, holding a canvas that is slightly taller than him and approximately twice as wide as him.
He slowly turns around, smiling, revealing the painting on the canvas: a realistic sunflower on a sky-blue background.]
#i'm in awe of him#art#he always supports other artists and is super friendly to interact with!#give him a follow!
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Life is like a Box of Chocolates || LandOscar
Summary: When you take an edible chocolate with your boyfriends it has an unexpected side effect.
Warnings: 18+ only, edibles, smut, oral (both), mmf.
WC: 2. 3k
The box looked inconspicuous enough.
Oscar turned the packaging over and read through the ingredients while you and Lando opened three individually wrapped treats. They looked like any other boutique chocolate you had tried but this one promised more than a sugar high.
“Bottoms up,” Lando said with a grin.
You tapped your square of chocolate against his with a reciprocal smile. “I hope so.”
You both bit into the treats and moaned at the decadent richness that coated your tongue. You couldn’t even taste the drug that would absorb slowly into your system, leaving you with a long lasting high that would surely make the boring dinner party better.
“Oh my god, that was so good!” you hummed as you licked your fingers clean and found Lando had finished his too.
Oscar chuckled as he saw a spot of chocolate in the corner of Lando’s lips and kissed it clean before grabbing his own piece. “We normally take half.”
“You’ve never been to this event before, trust me, you’ll need a whole one,” Lando assured him, taking the chocolate and guiding it to Oscar’s parted lips himself.
Your body started to heat in response to the small sounds Oscar made as Lando fed him. “Why are you two teasing me? You know we don’t have time to play before the car gets here.”
Reluctantly, Oscar pulled away and swallowed his mouthful before returning to pack up the box. He opened the box again and put the few remaining wrappers back in, before noticing the instruction booklet under the tray. “Uh, guys, I don’t think this was weed,” he mutters.
“What do you mean?” Lando said with a laugh. “This is the box Daniel said to get.”
“Wait, Danny?” You hoped you hadn’t heard correctly. “The same Danny who has been trying to get back at you for the prank in Vegas?”
Lando laughed and shook his head, but realisation seemed to slowly dawn on his face and he snatched the box out of Oscar’s hands. His eyes scanned across the page of tiny disclaimers until it fluttered with his shaking hands.
“What did you give us, Lando?” you asked as you looked between both of your boyfriends. “Osc?”
“Okay, so, don’t panic,” Oscar’s words immediately made your heart start pumping faster and he pulled you into his arms to draw soothing circles over your back. “It’s fine, baby. You might just feel a little…”
“What?”
“Horny,” Lando answered for him before he couldn’t suppress his laugh any longer. “I’m going to get him for this.”
“You don’t sound very worried,” you said to Lando before looking at Oscar. Obviously, he was never one to worry so he just shrugged.
“I’ll take care of you if you need it,” he promised.
—
“I can’t tell if this is the chocolate or me,” you grumbled as you sat between your boyfriends in the backseat of the car. Your hands gripped their thighs in an effort to keep them from roaming any higher, but it was a losing battle.
“That’s just you, baby, it said it could take an hour to kick in,” Lando said, fiddling with his tie again. “Why do these have to be so tight?”
“He says it like he didn’t asked to be choked last night,” Oscar chuckled, reaching over your shoulder to tuck the tie back under his collar. “Now relax.”
“That was the plan,” Lando said with a roll of his eyes. “I’m going to fucking kill Danny.”
“Worry about that later, we’re here.”
You accepted Oscar’s hand and stepped out after him to the flash of cameras. It was hard not to feel inadequate when you were standing beside two of the most handsome men you had ever met, but when they curled their arms around your waist and whispered sweet words the worry fell away.
“You look so beautiful, darling,” Lando said softly as he brushed his lips over your cheek. “I’m having a hard time keeping this PG-13.”
Oscar caught his finger under Lando’s chin and turned his hungry eyes away from you. “Stop looking at each other like that, you’re not the only one having a hard time,” he groaned. You couldn’t help glancing down his body but the black suit pants hid the ‘hard time’ he was growing in them. “Stop looking at me like that,” he warned.
“I can’t help that I am infatuated with you two,” you said innocently, a sweet smile drawing his attention to your kissable lips. “Tsk, tsk, stop looking at me like that, Osc. Have some self control.”
Lando laughed and led you away from Osc as he tipped his head back with a silent prayer to survive the evening with his brats. When he had his composure back, he scanned the area for you but in those short seconds you and Lando had disappeared into the busy venue. “Fuck,” he groaned before beginning his search.
The crowd of businessmen swallowed you whole and it was only Lando’s hand that kept you from being swept away as he followed the bodies into the venue. His stiff back that you tucked in behind was the only outward sign that he hated the event but it was a night that couldn’t be avoided as McLaren needed investors to continue its growth.
“Drink, love?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Only if it’s strong,” you winked. He smirked before suddenly changing direction and towing you towards the bar. “Shit!”
Lando turned quicker than your eyes could follow and he was glaring at the shocked stranger who stared at the damp splash in your dress. It would have made you laugh if the dress wasn’t worth more than your monthly pay and currently freezing from the icy drink that now decorated your bodice.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there,” the man apologised.
“You didn’t see her?” Lando asked in disbelief. He couldn't understand how anyone could miss the most beautiful person in the room.
“It-it’s just water,” he stammered as he reached to brush the water drops away but Lando caught his wrist before he could touch you. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, I wasn’t paying attention,” you said as you peered around for the bathrooms before spotting the arrow pointing down a hall. “Come on, Lan.”
“Watch where you are going next time,” Lando imparted the advice as he turned with you, feeling your elbow nudge into his ribs at the attitude. “What? There is no way he didn’t see you. Everyone else can’t take their eyes off you.”
You rolled your eyes at the idea and stepped into the room as he opened the door for you. “It’s you they are staring at,” you corrected.
He slipped inside the powder room behind you and checked the attached room for the toilet was empty before he attacked. His lips threatened to ruin your makeup as he pinned you between his body and the wall, grinding himself along your front until your eyes fluttered shut. “You don’t see what I do,” he murmured between his heated kisses to your neck. His hand ran up your thigh, finding the slit in the dress so it could climb higher and brush the edge of your panties. “So fucking sexy and everyone knows you’re mine.”
A throat cleared and your eyes flew open to see Oscar leaning back against the door, an amused smirk on his lips as he watched the show unfold. “Yours?” he taunted as he snapped the lock into place.
“Ours,” Lando accentuated with his usual sass that had Oscar pushing off from the door and crossing the distance in two long strides.
Desire was pooling at your core as you watched Oscar’s hand envelope Lando’s throat and pull him closer. Their lips collided with a fierce need to determine dominance and Lando tried to fight it before he succumbed to Oscar with a moan. Satisfied, Oscar pulled back to see Lando’s pupils blown out and a breathy whimper escaped his swollen lips.
“You are both mine,” Oscar clarified before his eyes danced over your body and noticed the wet material. “What happened?”
“Some idiot spilt his drink on her.”
Oscar grabbed a hand towel from the shelf and started to dab away as much moisture as he could but every brush of the material sent little bolts of lightning across your body. Suddenly it felt like your body was on fire and you bit your lip as the flames reached your core.
“Oh fuck,” you moaned as the last touch caught the underside of your beast and it felt heavy with need. “Do that again, please.”
Lando was feeling the same heated effects course through his veins as the chocolates reacted with his body. “I think it’s been an hour,” he chuckled, reaching for the stiff peak he could see pressing against the thin material of your dress. He brushed the back of his knuckles over your nipple and hummed at the sound you made for him.
Oscar abandoned the cloth and sank to his knees on the tiles. He swore he could smell your sweet arousal, the mouthwatering scent driving him insane as he bunched your dress up and kissed your core over the lace. The ax of time hung over your head as you all knew the dinner was about to begin but you didn’t care the moment you looked down at Oscar’s eyes.
“Just a quickie,” he agreed as he read your mind. Lando crushed his lips against yours as Oscar pushed your panties aside and tasted you with a languid swipe of his tongue. One boyfriend made you cry out and the other stole the sound with his kiss. Your hands tangled their hair, feeling the different textures between your fingers as you deepened the kiss and rocked your hips against Oscar’s face.
“Fuck,” Lando groaned at the pretty sight. “I’m so unbelievably hard right now.” He grabbed your hand to prove his words and you stroked his length over his trousers. “I don’t know if I want to kill Danny anymore.”
Oscar laughed against your clit and the vibration curled your toes in your heels and you cried out at the sensation. The sound cut through Lando’s amusement and his belt snapped open, his trousers falling just enough to free his cock. Your hand wrapped around him and he covered your hand with his, guiding you up and down in long slow strokes.
“We are going to make a mess of your dress, baby,” Lando moaned as he felt his orgasm coming embarrassingly quickly thanks to the chocolate. You barely heard him as your own impending release hazed your mind but Oscar thought quick enough to pull away. Your body missed his mouth instantly but your cunt clenched at the sight of him taking Lando’s cock deep in his throat. “Fuck, Osc, that’s it, babe.”
You could hardly breathe as you watched Lando’s jaw clench and he shuddered as he spilled himself in Oscar’s mouth. Your boyfriend’s throat bounced as stood up and he swallowed the mouthful down, leaving Lando to sag against the wall while he recovered.
“You missed a spot,” you said as you leant in and caught the drop of cum that clung to the corner of his lips. A soft hum reverberated as you shared the taste with a kiss and you pressed yourself against him to feel just how much he was feeling the drug too. “Need a hand?”
“Not quite,” he smirked, turning you around to face Lando. “Hold on.”
Lando reached out and you gripped his forearms as Oscar bundled your dress up in one hand and pushed your panties aside again with the other. He gave no warning before he sheathed himself deep inside your cunt and you buried your face in Lando’s chest with a gasp. You felt impossibly full before he snapped his hips back and then buried himself in you, over and over, an unrelenting pace that quickly brought back the edge of your orgasm.
Your cries were muffled by Lando’s dress shirt and your nails threatened to rip the expensive jacket he wore as you were rocked by your release that came so suddenly white spots danced across your vision. For a second your body was disconnected from your mind and the two only collided back together when Oscar joined you, warmth pooling in your core as he filled it with his seed.
“Wooow,” Oscar chuckled as he pulled out and combed a hand through his hair. “That shit is strong.”
“At least we have something to take the edge off,” Lando said, before tossing the hand towel to Oscar. Oscar ran the towel under the warm tap and carefully cleaned up the mess he made before he pulled your panties back into place and let your dress fall around your unsteady legs.
Oscar curled a brow at his boyfriend and the glint in his eye that said he expected a few more stops to this room during the night. “Let’s try to make it back to the hotel next time.”
“No promises,” he said with a wink. “Now, shall we go and sit through a bunch of old man speeches and try not to fall asleep?”
You looked down at your dress and found the wet patch had dried considerably, so much that it wouldn’t even be noticeable in the dim lights of the hall. “You still owe me a drink.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lando gave you a salute and unlocked the door, opening it to an empty corridor. “A strong one. Osc?”
“No, thank you, one of us has to be responsible.”
Lando looked at you, his lips barely suppressing the grin on his face. “He says it like he didn’t just fuck you in a bathroom.”
#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#landoscar x reader#landoscar fic#landoscar smut#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri smut#lando norris smut#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 smut
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Finally getting help (prt 9)
Masterpost
“So where’s the brother?” Jason asked as he followed Bruce down the hall.
“He’s in Tim’s lab. It seems like they’ll be able to share it, which is good even with as big as this place is I don’t think we have room for two mad science labs,” Bruce said with dry humour, making Jason laugh in spite of himself.
“Tim must be thrilled to have a buddy huh?” He asked, still chuckling. No one in this family was stupid by any means, he often felt like the dumb one and objectively he knew he was still a fucking genius. But even with all of them being That smart no one could keep up with Tim’s innovative and scientific mind.
“I think he might even learn a few things, which is a frightening concept. Danny asked for microwaves and toasters this morning so he could cannibalize them into anti-possession tech. The way that boy combines science and magic is going to give both me and Constantine ulcers.”
Jason snorted, both at the joke and maybe a bit out of pleasure that someone was going to be giving Bruce a hard time. “Well if you need a babysitter don’t call me. I don’t want to deal with any of that,” he chuckled.
“Oh absolutely not, you would only feed into the chaos,” Bruce said quickly making Jason cackle, because he was right.
“Alright,” Bruce murmured to himself when they reached the closed door to the lab, it was almost lost in the banging inside but Jason heard it. Heard Bruce bracing himself for whatever was going to happen when Jason and Danny met.
He opened the door and across the room Jason saw who must be Danny. He was prime adoption bait with his black hair and blue eyes, but he was… absolutely beautiful, slight and elven, gently curved and wired with muscle. Jason froze, and it seemed so did Danny, staring at each other from across the room. Butterflies fluttered in Jason’s stomach, building till they didn’t feel like butterflies but something buzzing, trying to get out. He could hear the growl coming from his chest, not his throat.
Danny’s eyes swirled with green and he vaulted over the work table, abandoning the half finished tech he was working on to lunge at Jason. He collided with Jason with a snarl of his own, Jason growled and flipped Danny over his shoulder, the hall was a closed space so Danny twisted, running into the wall feet first and landing in a crouch. Jason twisted so he didn’t have his back to a wall anymore as Danny lunged at him again and Jason dodged, pushing off the wall to give himself momentum as he threw himself after Danny.
Danny grabbed Jason’s arm and used his momentum to throw him over his hip, following him down to the ground, barely missing as Jason rolled away. He didn’t even think to draw a weapon, that wasn’t what this fight was about, they weren’t actually trying to hurt each other. Even as Jason punched down so hard he cracked the floor he somehow knew Danny would dodge, and wouldn’t get hurt. And Danny did, he got out of the way and lashed out in return, kicking Jason in the chest and sending him flying a few feet back giving Danny time to scramble back to his feet and chase after him.
This give and take carried them down the hall and to the landing by the stairs. Somewhere in the background Jason knew that someone was shouting at them to stop, and to be careful, but he wasn’t listening. He was too focussed on the growl emanating from Danny, and from himself which were starting to smooth out again, to feel less like desperate insects trying to escape and more like a cat’s purr, or some sort of song. They were reaching equilibrium, some sort of harmony.
He didn’t realize how close they were to the stairs until Danny knocked him back again and this time when he stepped back he didn’t land on solid ground. The two of them tumbled down the stairs, rapidly switching who was on top as they fell. Jason could feel himself collecting bruises but he didn’t fucking care.
They came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs with Jason on top, his forearm pressed against Danny’s chest just below his throat. They were both breathing hard, staring at each other with wide blue-green eyes. The growling died down, lowering down into purrs harmonizing with each other as they caught their breath. Jason’s was lower and Danny’s a little higher, it was a hypnotic sound that made Jason feel… peaceful.
Danny moved first, reaching up slowly to touch Jason’s face, but before he could Jason realized what they had done and the position he was in. He had fought with Danny, and he was now pinning an abused teenager to the floor straddling his waist. This looked bad and now that he realized what was happening it Felt worse! He practically shot up off of Danny and was about to bolt before Danny grabbed his hand.
“Wait! Don’t go yet! Let me just, let me get you a specter-deflector so no one can possess you first okay?” Danny asked, sounding oddly desperate and even though Jason wanted to run he nodded.
Danny looked relieved and let go of Jason before suddenly flying up and through the floor above them. Jason blinked at the ceiling above him before looking around him.
Oh dear, Bruce, Tim, Damian, and Jazz were all watching from the landing above. Damian looked like he wanted to kill Jason himself, Bruce looked disappointed, Tim impassive and Jazz looked… Excited? Why did she look happy?
Danny flew back down through the floor before anyone could think of what to say. “Okay! Here’s the specter-deflector,” He said, clicking something that looked like a watch into place around Jason’s wrist. “That’ll protect you, this is a blaster,” he said, handing Jason an odd sci-fi looking gun. “It’ll reload automatically from ambient ectoplasm, it works best against dead and undead but it can hurt humans too. And.. um, this is my number,” He said, blushing furiously as he handed Jason a slip of paper. “Please text me?”
When had Jason’s mouth gotten so dry?! He had to lick his lips before he answered, painfully aware of how hot his cheeks were and that he must be blushing too. He didn’t blush much, not since his death and resurrection, but he was absolutely blushing now, and he was still purring too if more softly now. He didn’t even know that he could purr, not really. “Ya, Yes, I’ll text you,” he promised before he fled the house. He would have to have some of Alfred’s lasagna later, just then he desperately needed to calm down and clear his head.
-----
Jazz was practically vibrating with excitement and as soon as the door had closed behind Jason she couldn’t contain it anymore. She squealed as she vaulted over the railing of the landing and landed in the foyer and sprinting over to Danny. “Danny what the heck! You have a crush?! I haven’t seen you that passionate in ages!” She enthused scooping Danny up under his arms and twirling him around.
“Jaaazz,” Danny complained even as he went kitten limp in her arms letting her hold him at arms length nearly a foot off the floor.
“I didn’t even know you liked boys! Why didn’t you tell me you like boys!?” Jazz demanded, shaking him a little.
“I didn’t really, I mean I always preferred girls. The only guy I ever really had a crush on was Dash and-” He cut off when Jazz made a disgusted face. “Exactly! That was never going to happen and he was an asshole so I didn’t want to talk about it!”
“Okay ya I understand- Wait you were making fun of me for having a thing for bad boys when your type is asshole meathead jocks!? Ohhh you’re never going to hear the end of this baby brother!”
“Oh my god No!” Danny groaned, finally squirming out of Jazz’s hold and dropping back to the ground stepping back.
He turned towards the Wayne’s who had made their way down the stairs while the siblings were talking. “Is Jason an asshole?” He demands of Tim, he’s probably the fairest judge in Danny’s estimation.
“Absolutely,” Tim said promptly before realizing what he said and backtracking a little. “But I’m his brother, I'm supposed to say that. Jason’s heart is in the right place, he's a good guy, just kinda violent and a complete jerk,” Tim said.
“Perfect,” Danny said his expression a little dreamy.
“Why on earth would you have a crush on Todd?! You could do so much better!” Damian squawked indignantly, breaking the tension and making everyone besides Bruce laugh, and even he smiled just a little.
“I want to say you did well Bruce, I know it was hard not to break up the fight but so? It was good for them, I hope it won’t be too hard on you if they do end up dating,” Jazz said, patting Bruce’s arm.
He shifted from one foot to the other a little awkwardly but then shook his head. “No it won’t be, I mean it won’t be the first time, Barbra was as good as my daughter and she dated Dick, and Steph and Tim dated. It’s always a little awkward but I’d rather that than a Super,” He said, shooting Tim a look, he cleared his throat and looked away.
“Well good, we’ll see how this works out but really,” she turned back towards Danny. “This could be good! You’ve always been attracted to violent people but I don’t think that your ghost instincts realized that when Val was shooting at you it wasn’t bonding for her the same way it was for you,” she told him, her tone borderline accusatory.
Danny looked down and shifted from side to side, giving a little shrug. “I know, but she was a good girlfriend, when she wasn’t being Red Huntress and I wasn’t being Phantom. When we were just Danny and Val, it was good.”
“Oh Danny,” She sighed and pulled him into a hug. “I know, but he has the same instincts as you, I’m rooting for you Danny.”
“Thanks Jazz,” Danny said softly, hugging her back.
“Welp, I’m heading back to the lab,” Tim said, obviously uncomfortable with the genuine emotions he made a break for it before he could get roped into any hugs.
Next
#danny phantom#dc x dp#fanfiction#dead on main#jason todd#finally getting help au#Danny is pregnant#trans!Danny#vlad is a creep#bruce wayne#jazz fenton#damian wayne#tim drake#multi part fic#long post#unedited#let me know if you find any mistakes
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so wrong, it's right
a vaguely halloween-ish blurb where eddie has it bad for his best friend’s girlfriend…except you’re not his girlfriend anymore. 18+, MDNI
“Princess, I can’t,” Eddie whines pitifully. “We can’t. It’s wrong.”
This was so not how he saw the night going— sitting in the den at Tina’s dumb Halloween party, having to tell the girl of his dreams he can’t give her what she’s asking for, dressed up in a shitty pirate costume from the goodwill of all things.
At least he got to use his own bandana.
His hands squeeze tight on your arms as he tries to hold you at a safe distance. He doesn’t have it in him to push you away, enjoying too much the feel of your legs draped across his lap.
You’re Alice in Wonderland, the light blue of your dress nicely setting off the color of your skin. The skirt is painfully (for him) short and it’s made even shorter by the fluffy petticoat underneath it. White stockings hug your legs all the way up your sumptuous thighs, accented at the top with little black bows. It almost could double as one of those French maid outfits and Eddie has got to stop picturing you dusting things right now.
The sound of the party still going on in the main part of the house filters down the hallway to the room you brought him to in search of someplace quiet where you could share a joint. At the time he’d thought it was a little odd, especially since you didn’t usually smoke.
But since when did he ever stop to ask questions when you wanted him to do something? It wasn’t like he was going to start now.
And considering the way you’d sidled up as close to him as you could and pushed down his hand as he was taking out one of his pre-rolls, you clearly had a different agenda.
Did he even lock the door behind him?
He’s not sure. His nose is swimming in the cherry liquor on your breath and the subtle florals of your perfume. The combination is making him dizzy and his jeans are uncomfortably tight. He’s been half-hard since he got here and all you did was wave at him from across the room.
“Isn’t that kinda what makes it fun, though?” You purr in his ear and your tongue traces the shell of it, making his whole body convulse.
He can’t do this. Can’t, can’t, can’t…
“No, no,” he says, a desperate pant. “I-I can’t hook up with my buddy’s girl, it’s not right.”
“Except I’m not his girl anymore…you know?”
Oh, Eddie knows.
He’s known for weeks now, ever since news of the break-up ran through the school like food poisoning on meatloaf day. He’s known it every day he watched you walk down the hall without the tall, broad frame of Steve Harrington hanging all over you. He’s known it in his van on the way home when he pictures himself standing over you at your locker, thumb tugging down your plump bottom lip before he leans in to kiss you.
And he’s especially known it in his bed, late at night, when he’s imagining you’re there with him, hand firmly wrapped around his hard, throbbing—holy fucking shit.
With a shudder and a gasp, he’s brought hurtling back to the moment, suddenly feeling an actual hand on his cock. Except it’s not his own, it’s yours. Your fingers trace the shape of it through the seam in his jeans and he thinks he might actually die if he doesn’t get to bury himself inside you in the next five seconds.
A rumbling groan releases from deep in his chest and he tightens his grip on your shoulders, pulling you closer this time. You lick your lips and smile like the little minx you are, knowing you’ve won. As if there was ever any question you would.
Eddie swallows hard, drawing one last shaky breath as he tips his head to the side.
That fucking look in your eyes should be illegal.
continued at x
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#my st fics
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A gentleman
This is my gift to @lucyeyelesbarrow for the Pedrostories Secret Santa event💖
Pairing: bfd!Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Your boyfriend is a good guy, but he's not so good at sex, but thankfully, his dad makes up for it
Warnings: smut| Cheating, kinda exhibitionism, oral sex (f receiving), a bit of fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, no use of y/n just overuse of pet names, no use of Joel either, just Mr. Miller and sir (so naturally we've got a bit of a sir kink).
a/n: babe you said slut by Taylor and i ran with it. also, this didn't turn out as good as I wanted, but nevertheless, I hope you'll like it. And huge thanks to @decembermidnight cause this idea is basically (completely) hers so give her some love or smth.
Jason was a good guy,
he was such a good guy, always so kind, always gentle and respectful... everything any girl could ever dream of, right?
wrong
He should have been, he really should have been the perfect man, but he wasn't.
He wasn't a man, he was just a boy
A really nice, sweet, cute boy that had just one, little, big problem... he fucked like one.
He fucked like he was scared of breaking you, actually, no he didn't fuck at all... he made love, which would have been fine... if it wasn't for the fact that he wasn't any good at it.
Every time you had sex he lasted no more than a few minutes (on his good days) and it was always just the same, always missionary, always slow and breathy and just not... right.
And it's not like you hadn't tried, god knows how many times you had, you tried changing positions, switching up his thrusting method, or even asking him to go down on you, but the outcome was always the same... you were left unsatisfied, every. single time.
You had even gone as far as starting to wonder if perhaps the problem was you, but then again every time you were alone everything worked just fine.
And as perfect as he was, there's only as much a girl can take.
You needed sex, the real kind, you needed to get fucked good, by a man who didn't need instructions, by someone who wasn't afraid to take what he wanted, by a man, you needed a real man.
And perhaps you'd always had one in mind.
You were in the kitchen, the fridge open, the cool air hardening your nipples, just a tiny white tank top on you, no bra, only a pair of panties.
You came down here to get a drink, but your focus had shifted to your fingers beneath your panties, drawing fast circles on your clit.
And yes it was pathetic, masturbating in a kitchen that wasn't even yours, but your body was desperate for that orgasm your boyfriend had deprived you of not even 10 minutes ago.
You were caging your bottom lip between your teeth, trying not to make a sound, but as all your emphasis went there, you must have stopped listening for anyone coming and missed the footsteps stomping down the stairs.
"I thought you'd be aslee-"
his eyes widened as he finally took you in
"shit I'm sorry darlin'-" he apologized, his eyes diverting a moment too late, only after they had taken you in completely, only after they had taken a good glimpse of your tits, and of the hand in your underwear.
To say you were red was an understatement.
He was there, the man you were just thinking of (although you had tried to refrain) was there, right in front of you, in all his broadness and glory, looking every bit of hot as ever,
him, your boyfriend's dad,
Mr. Miller had just caught you masturbating while standing in his kitchen.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't-I was just-I needed water and I-"
You finally rushed your trembling fingers out of your panties, your chest heaving and your voice breaking.
"No need to apologize sweetheart" he shook his head, his gaze finding yours "'s alright"
And although you were half naked, his eyes remained on yours.
Because that's how he was, that's how Mr. Miller was,
He was a gentleman,
In a world of boys, he was a gentleman.
Just like that time he caught you just out of the shower, just as every time he wouldn't let you open your own door, not on his watch, just as every dinner, every expense, every single thing, was his treat, and he didn't need a thank you, he did it because that's simply how he did things, how he'd been taught to treat women.
You watched each other for a moment, you panicking, him as calm as ever, and only after a good minute, did you finally feel brave enough to say something,
"I-I think I'll go-"
He frowned, "didn't you come here to get a drink?"
You swallowed, realizing your hands were empty "I-I did, you're right"
You opened the fridge again, and to the demise of your heart, he stepped closer, watching you like a hawk from above, and stealing all the air out of your lungs.
"What were you doing sweetheart?"
You swore you could have started crying right there and then.
Did he really just ask that?
Why the fuck would he ever ask that?
"I-I wasn't- I wasn't doing anything, Mr. Miller"
He tried to hide the smirk crawling on his lips, but a shadow of it still appeared
"now we both know that ain't true, darlin'" he smiled, as you took a bottle of water and closed the fridge to try and keep your brain occupied by something else other than this fucking man.
You took a deep breath, looking up at him.
Your bottom lip was between your front teeth, and with his thumb, he freed it, his hand lingering on your chin.
"there's no need to be shy" he murmured, his voice as sweet as honey "I just wanna help"
And as always, as always his touch melted you completely, like ice in the August sun.
"M-Mr. Miller-"
"yes, doll?"
only hearing him call you that made your breathing hitch.
"I..."
"just tell me," his voice was as low and hot as it could be "I won't judge"
And then, for some reason, you did, You told him the truth.
maybe he had put a spell on you, or maybe, just maybe, you would have done anything this man asked for.
"I was- I was touching myself"
But of course he knew, you could see it all over his face as he nodded, his eyes now a shade darker.
"and why's that?" he asked, stepping an inch closer,
you took a step back to get out of his penetrating aura, just to realize he had confined you between the table and his body with nowhere else to go.
"my son's just upstairs" he continued, his eyes scrutinizing every inch of your face "Couldn't he have helped with that?"
You gulped as his fingers gently moved some hair out of your face, making you shiver altogether
"I know if I were him, I would want nothing more than to do just that" he murmured "I would want to pleasure you in any way I could" and then, as if he'd gotten back to himself, to the respectful gentleman you'd always known, he dropped his hand, "so why were you touching yourself, sweetheart?"
What were you supposed to say?
That his son couldn't do it?
That in 3 months of dating, he'd made you come a total of 0 times?
Now that's not really a conversation you wanted to have with his father, was it?
"I was just- I- I don't know Mr. Miller" you lied
But he saw right through you, his head shaking in disapproval
"but you do know, doll" he urged "There's gotta be a reason"
And then it clicked.
He knew. Somehow he fucking knew.
"I-I-" you stuttered "It's just that Jason... he- he can't-"
but you couldn't end that sentence, how could you ever?
So of course, he did it for you.
"He can't make you come"
And the darkness was back again, the gentleman long gone.
"ain't that right?"
You could only offer a shy nod
"a pretty thing like you..." he murmured, his breath tickling your skin as he leaned closer, "and he's not taking care of you..." he tsked "Now that's a shame"
his hands were on your waist, holding you in place.
"I thought I'd taught him how to treat a woman... guess I was wrong" he shook his head "I mean look at you," he murmured "he should be making you come until you can't take it anymore"
"Mr. Miller-" you whimpered
"yes sugar"
"please" you begged, not exactly knowing for what
"Please what?" he asked, his right hand stroking your sides "you want somethin' from me?"
"I-I" you stumbled over your own words, not knowing how to get them out "Could you- could you please do it?"
He smirked properly at that, his left hand lowering down your belly
"do what?"
"you know" you breathed "You know what"
He inhaled your scent, his eyes still focused on yours "Say it" he ordered "Say it and I'll do it"
And what could you have done, if not exactly what he'd just said
"Please Mr. Miller" you pleaded "please make me come"
His fingers were beneath your panties before you could get another word out.
"Ah-" you gasped
"shhh" he shushed you, "Don't worry darlin'" he murmured "I'm here, I'll take care of you" he said, his big hand cupping your whole pussy
"look at that" he grinned, his mouth ghosting yours "she's already wet f'me”
A gasp fled your throat again as his finger seeped between your folds, gathering your slick and teasing your hole just to travel up to your clit
“Mmm” he hummed “so wet doll” he shook his head, smiling devilishly “are you always like this for me?” he asked, “For your boyfriend’s father?“
And although the fact that you could feel his hard cock against your thighs made that taunt more than a little hypocritical, you still couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed.
“Answer me” he urged, his lips now grazing yours
“Yes” you confessed, your voice nothing more than a whisper “I-I am Mr. Miller”
He groaned at that
He knew it was wrong, that everything about this was wrong, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this, if he said hearing you call him Mr. Miller with that sweet voice of yours every day didn't make his cock half hard, if he said that from the moment he met you, he hadn't been jealous of his own son.
"here's how this is gonna work sweetheart" he breathed, his fingers gripping the edge of your panties "I'm gonna taste you now... because fuck me, but I need to-" he explained, slowly lowering your underwear "And you..." he smiled, your panties suddenly on the ground "you're gonna be a good girl and stay quiet"
His lips lowered from right next to your ear, onto your pulse point
"Can you do that f'me?"
A little squeak left your mouth, and a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest
"Can you be a good girl f'me, doll?"
You didn't trust yourself with words, so all you did was nod
"good" he hummed, his lips on your clavicle "Now get on the table"
And so you did, you hopped on the table, and he kneeled before you, his hands on your thighs.
"Spread your legs sugar" he said, having you obliging immediately
A soft appreciative sound erupted from his throat.
"prettiest pussy I've ever seen" he purred, leaning closer to it "on the prettiest girl I've ever seen"
Your belly was moving up and down in sync with your erratic breathing, but he didn't seem to care, his only focus was between your legs.
he looked as if he did this every day, as if fucking his son's girlfriend was an everyday thing.
He started off slow, his lips meeting the inside of your thighs, then your mound, then your lips, and then, just when you felt a moment away from bursting, his tongue came to play, as he licked between your folds without care, groaning in pleasure at the taste of you.
"Delicious" he hummed "You're fucking delicious doll" he looked at you, continuing to do so even when his hands gripped your thighs, and his talented muscle teased your hole, making you gasp and forcing your right hand to his hair.
"Does he do this?" he couldn't stop himself from asking "Does he eat this pretty pussy sweetheart?"
"n-no" you managed to whisper as he continued his work, now savoring you entirely while deliberately avoiding your clit.
"Now that's just wrong," he said, his eyes unfocusing from yours and lowering to your heat for a moment "look at that" he murmured, watching mesmerized as your juices drenched his mouth "I could eat this pussy for every meal"
And that was it, he was done with teasing all of a sudden, his lips were on your clit, sucking it deliciously as fingers you didn't even notice having gone from your leg thrust into you with ease.
"O-Oh s-shit" you moaned, although trying not to do so.
"quiet sweetheart" he shushed you, going back to his work in a moment
His fingers were now curling upwards, finding that spot that made you see stars like he knew your body better than yourself, or certainly, better than his son.
His tongue was alternating between lapping at your clit and sucking on it, and he expected you to not make a sound? now that was just impossible.
"oh my god" you gripped his hair, his fingers speeding up "o-oh my god-Mr. Miller- i-it feels so good"
"I know it does" he answered "I can feel it, sweetheart"
And then he was back at work, and as you watched enchanted how perfect he looked between your thighs, his hair a mess, his eyes so dark they didn't even seem brown anymore... you felt it, you felt the orgasm approach faster than it ever had, embarrassingly fast one could say, but then again, it certainly wasn't your fault, Mr. Miller knew what he was doing.
"I-I think-" you cried
"I know" he didn't need you to finish "Let go f'me, doll"
And so you did, you bit your lip and threw your head back as an orgasm powerful enough to kill you took over your body, leaving you a whimpering, wobbly mess.
"fucking delicious" he groaned, selfishly licking your core once again before he was back up to you, watching as you breathed heavily into the air.
"felt good?"
"yeah," you smiled mindlessly "felt amazing Mr. Miller"
"good enough to want another one?"
You didn't need to think twice
"yes" you breathed, one of your arms going between his neck as you begged him, while the other found the bulge in his boxers "please" you swallowed "Please fuck me"
"you want my cock?" he asked, already freeing it from his briefs "is that it?"
"yes," you whimpered,
"how much?"
"a lot" you promised "I want it so much Mr. Miller, please"
"yeah?" he taunted, positioning it at your entrance
"yeah-" you managed before he had pushed into you, making such a feeling erupt in you that you forgot all about your boyfriend upstairs and cried loudly because fuck it, but he was so fucking big.
His hand covered your mouth before you had even realized what had happened.
"I thought you said you were gonna be good"
Your eyes widened as your pussy still tried to accommodate the importance of him
A muffled "I'm sorry" made it to his ears
"I wouldn't wanna have to stop"
"no" you begged immediately "no please don't stop" You shook your head, so desperate you would have felt pathetic if it wasn't that you weren't thinking about anything anymore besides your pleasure, besides him, besides this, whatever it was.
"if I take this off you you'll be quiet?" he asked, nodding to his hand
"yes," you nodded "yes, sir, please"
Sir?
Fuck
If his cock could have gotten harder it would have.
"alright then" he conceded, taking his hand away "Can I move sweetheart?"
"mh-mh" you hummed, nodding eagerly
a soft grin spread over his face at that, but before you could fully take in the beauty of it, of him, of his patchy salt and pepper beard and pink lips, he had done as you asked, and started moving
"fuck" you whimpered "y-you're so big"
The implication behind your words hit you only after having pronounced them, but he was kind enough not to comment on it.
"and yet you're taking me all like a good girl" he groaned "taking all of my cock inside this tight little pussy of yours"
His right hand got rid of your tank top, pulling it down until your boobs spilled from it so he could grab and grope at them freely while his thrusts got faster, and somehow, somehow even fucking deeper, and you were just- god you were in another universe, and right when you shut your eyes, your forehead falling to his in bliss, another moan escaped you, and his hand found your lips again
"What did I tell you sweetheart?" he grunted, his pace not slowing down "I need you to stay quiet" he explained again "I need you to be good and not make a sound so I can fuck you like you nee-"
"Babe?"
Your heart skipped a beat.
It was his voice, your boyfriend's voice, coming from upstairs
"babe, is everything alright?"
Your eyes widened and his movements stopped as you stared into each other's eyes for a moment
What do I do? What do I do? what the fuck do I do?
"answer him," Joel said, freeing your mouth without any further explanation.
"I-" you mumbled
"do it sweetheart, or he's gonna come down here, and I don't think either of us want that"
And so of course, you did
"I-I'm fine!" you yelled
"are you sure?"
And just when you were about to answer, his fingers materialized on your clit, circling it.
You gasped, widening your eyes at him
"answer" he commanded, not stopping, the opposite actually, starting his thrusts again "Answer him doll"
"b-but"
"just do it" he murmured "Tell him you're sure"
You gulped, breathing heavily,
"I'm sure!"
"Ok"
And just like that, as if it were a miracle, Jason stopped his questioning, and you hid your face into the crook of Joel's neck, biting his skin as his pace fastened again, making that fucking feeling his son couldn't create take over your whole belly again.
"Mr Miller- oh my god" you cried, actual tears threatening to spill your eyes at the feeling
"shh" he cooed "I know sweetheart I know" he felt your walls tighten around him as the fingers in your hair gripped his locks harder "there we go," he grunted, his cock so deep inside of you you could feel it in your belly "that's all you needed wasn't it?" he asked " for someone to abuse this little pussy" he groaned, "for me, for me to fuck you like you deserve"
his lips were just before yours, not even an inch distancing you from a kiss, and yet, you weren't gonna cross that line, not today.
"yes" you moaned lowly "yes sir, yes"
"fuck" he groaned "you feel so good sweetheart, squeezing me so good... such a good girl"
"oh" you moaned, back into his neck "s-shit"
"'s ok" he purred, his fingers and hips working relentlessly to destroy you completely "'s ok sweetheart just-"
"Babe, can you bring me some water too?"
And if before Joel had stopped, it wasn't even remotely in his plans now. There you were, on the verge of an orgasm, and he was supposed to stop? no fucking way
He did the opposite, he started going harder, the table shifting on the floor.
You gasped and moaned before you finally freed your mouth from your neck, clinging to him as you answered
"Yes!" you screamed, hoping the pure pleasure behind your words wouldn't be hearable "Yes! I-I'm c-coming!"
"Yeah" he groaned into your ear "Yeah you are sweetheart" he purred, completely drowning out whatever response Jason gave you "Now give it to me, come all over my cock like a good girl"
And just like that, white pure bliss washed over you, and for a moment you were somewhere else, heaven, or hell more probably, but another universe for sure.
And you only came back when Joel's grunts sounded in your ears, when his thrusts got more sloppy, when you answered the words "Where do you want it?" with a simple "inside", and then finally, you fully came back to earth when he did, when he filled you up to the brim, remaining still deep inside you so none of it went to waste.
"fuck" he groaned after a while, finally pulling out of you to meet your eyes.
"Mr. Miller-"
You were waiting for the guilt to take over you, but somehow, for whatever reason, it still hadn't, and he felt exactly the same
"Babe?"
"shit" you gasped, getting off the table to put your panties back on.
"you need to go doll" Joel murmured, helping you put your tank top back into place
"Mr. Miller..." you murmured, your voice as shaky as your legs "I've got your come running down my thighs"
A soft smirk pulled at his lips
"should have thought of that before you said you wanted it inside" he taunted, his hands on your waist "or before you decided to touch yourself in my kitchen, sweetheart"
#pedrostoriesgift23#pedrostories#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fluff#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#fluff#joel miller imagine#joel miller blurb#joel miller angst#fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo
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shiu x fem!reader x toji
content: (fem reader, heavy smut, soo much praise, filming sex, spitroasting, eiffel tower position, threesome, blowjobs, face fucking, cumming on face, aftercare)
summary: just another day at work ! :) nothing raunchy going on here
“fuck, that’s perfect,” shiu mumbles, crouching to get a better shot of where you and toji meet.
the man rutting into you takes the note as a compliment, bucking his hips back to slam to the hilt. the guttural moan he draws out of you is nothing short of sinful, earning you a laugh from the cameraman.
“oh, the guys at home are gonna fucking love that,” he chuckles, standing to grab a shot of you laying face down, ass up on the leather couch.
a calloused hand raises your face to the camera, squeezing your cheeks into a pucker. you smile, taking note of your fucked out demeanor in the camera reflection.
“feel good, pretty girl?” toji asks, still gripping your face.
“mmhm,” you groan, making a show of rolling your eyes back into your head.
the cameraman looks more than pleased, palming himself over his cheap dress pants.
“such a treat to have in the studio, y’know that?” he wipes a mascara-filled tear while you look up at him for a brief moment. “driving me fucking crazy.”
the incessant pap-pap-pap of toji’s hips against your ass echo among the walls of the small casting room, nearly drowning out the praise with how hard he’s fucking you. still, you smile, letting the suit-clad cameraman brush your hair from your face.
“where’d you learn how to take dick like this, huh?” toji teases, switching his grip from your face to your shoulders. your scene partner uses his newfound leverage to pull you back onto his cock, groaning at the new angle.
“only like this with you,” you moan, clenching at the sounds of approval both men give you.
“what, you forget about me?” shiu asks, feigning jealousy for the sake of the scene.
toji leans forward, chest-to-back as he whispers something in your ear. hard, deep thrusts slow to a grind as he speaks to you. you nod, giggling at shiu’s pointed look of confusion.
“what’s wrong?” the cameraman mouths, moving to turn the camera off. you beckon him over to the couch instead, jolting from the pick-up of your scene partner’s thrusts.
the two men share a look as you readjust the camera, gauging the shot in the crystalline glint of the lens. perfect, you think. he was going to love this.
deft hands make haste with his belt, undoing the buckle ever so slowly. the two of you lock eyes for just an instant as his face contorts into a grin, setting the camera on his shoulder to throw his belt off to the side.
“oh i get love too now?” he teases, unbuttoning his bottoms and letting you get to work. his ironed suit jacket hits the floor, dress shirt half open.
“you’ve fucked her before genius,” toji adds, slowing the pace of his thrusts to let you work on the cameraman. he was right, off and on camera even.
shiu’s hard, unbearably so when you free him from his boxers and take him into your mouth. you can practically feel how difficult it is for him to not blow his load right then and there, especially after watching you and toji go at it for half an hour with no stimulation of his own.
“hah fuck— she knows what i like, right?” the question is rhetorical, he wants you to take the bait.
and take the bait you do, pulling off his dick just enough to swirl your tongue around his aching tip.
the noise you earn is more than pornographic, it’s downright sinful, egging you on as you move to take him to the base.
“you seein’ this?” shiu gasps, panning the camera up to toji who has since stopped fucking you to watch. thick, deft fingers come up to rub at your clit instead, making up for the lost simulation.
shiu’s free hand reaches down to nestle into your hair, pulling taught. a quick look to make sure the camera lines up is all he gives you before deft hips snap forward, fucking your throat with urgency.
the two men share a look briefly, chuckling as toji finally ramps up the pace again. thick, hot lengths penetrate you from either side, overloading your brain with pleasure.
“look up at the lens for me baby,” shiu gushes, losing his grip on your hair to cradle your cheek in his palm. you push back on the cock currently pummeling your walls, eagerly groaning for the camera.
“aww there we go, always our favorite star.”
the praise goes right to your head, throat opening up to allow more of his length in. he hisses at the stimulation, grumbling a soft “fuck this,” before setting the camera down on the coffee table in front of the couch.
“oh, that’s a good fucking shot,” toji comments, pleased at the new camera angle. the thought of the studio’s loyal fanbase getting to watch you get spit-roasted by the hottest business partners in the industry pushes you closer to the edge.
“fuck, there.” shiu groans, pulling himself from your throat with an obscene squelch. a whoop rings out from behind you, no doubt from toji as viscous ropes of cum paint your cheeks— you swear you hear them high-five each other.
“shit, sorry about the mess,” he doesn’t sound sorry at all, tapping the head on your closed lips with a fucked-out smile.
salty cum floods your tastebuds as you work to clean his manhood off, pulling back with an audible pop and a smile. “s’ okay shiu.”
“that’s talent right there,” the camera man comments, clearly pleased with your performance. shiu tucks himself back into his dress pants, quietly motioning for you and toji to switch positions.
the raven-haired man wastes no time lifting you into the air, thick hands situated under your thighs for support.
the position alone might have gotten you close enough to come had he still been inside you. you’re held against his standing body only by the hands under your legs, back-to-chest as you face the camera.
you hike your legs up, locking eyes with shiu as you’re lowered onto toji’s dick a final time.
the stretch is absolutely obscene, filling you to the brim over and over again as he thrusts into you.
“perfect, perfect guys,” shiu leans closer to get a better shot of your face. “just like that.”
“you wanna tell everybody at home where you want it?” toji asks, biting your shoulder for good measure.
“inside—please.” you sigh, laughing at the obscene groan that sounds from behind the camera. shiu reaches down to rub your swollen clit for you, pressing a kiss to your temple.
hot seed floods your body a second time, warming you from the inside out. the things toji pants into your ear are obscene, overwhelming your senses while shiu’s hand deals out tiny pats to your clit.
you both sink onto the couch for the final time, the soft leather cushions embracing your tired bodies. shiu approaches with the camera, flipping through a couple of scenes to seek your shared approval.
you sit quietly as you're wiped down with a wet towel, still attached to toji at your most intimate points.
“tired angel? need to wash off?” he asks, maneuvering you on his dick to straddle him.
“yes please,” you mumble happily, resting your head on his shoulder. two sets of hands gently caress your body, wiping the last drops of fluid from your sweaty skin.
“you’re gonna make us all millionaires, i swear,” shiu mumbles, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before stepping into the bathroom to draw you a bath.
#toji x fem!reader x shiu#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen#shiu kong x reader#toji#jjk toji#toji headcanons#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji zenin#toji imagine#toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji#zenin toji#toji x reader#dilf toji#jujutsu toji#toji drabbles#fushiguro toji x fem reader#toji x fem!reader#shiu kong#shiu x reader#jjk shiu#shiu x fem reader#shiu x fem!reader#kong shiu x fem!reader#toji x fem reader smut#toji x reader x shiu smut#shiu x fem reader smut#shiu x reader smut
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Do you have any tip of drawing Sonic characters body?
They're very bean-shaped, so that's now I usually divide them lol
That bean shape can usually be broken down into a top and bottom half, or loose circles (torso and waist). Usually it's a sorta tear drop shape that flows into their legs, like with Sonic/Shadow/Knuckles, etc. Tails has the opposite, and has a little more weight to his body, almost like a malleable bean bag. Characters like Vector are sorta the outlier, because their spine flows straight into the back of their head. Once you get that S curve down though, he's not too difficult.
Not sure how much this helps, but just a little breakdown that I personally use
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Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 5
Word Count ~5k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ sexual content, mild body horror and violence
Also available on AO3
taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
The power is restored later that evening.
You are still sitting on the living room sofa before it happens, still tucked against the doppelgänger. Listening to the death of the storm outside. Watching the gray light oozing through the windows grow dimmer.
“How far did you walk to get here?”
“Not far. The delivery truck broke down about a mile from your house.”
“I’ll give you a ride back into town tomorrow, then. You’ll need to get it repaired as soon as possible.” It was strange, planning things with the imposter like this. As if you were truly allies and not sworn enemies. “What are you going to do once you move back?”
“I haven’t decided my next course of action yet.” His thumb is caressing the line he’d carved on your arm. Gentle, absent strokes.
A blossom of light suddenly illuminates the room. Electricity. You sigh with relief, straightening. You notice your panties still lying on the floor where he’s discarded them. The things that had seemed forgiveable in the darkness now feel indecent under the lighting. Like you’re being judged for your transgressions.
You look at what had once been Francis Mosses and your heart turns over again. And this is why you’ve done it; all of it. Because the sight of him instantly weakens you. You can’t help yourself.
His clothing, still in a state of half-on, half-off, is rumpled, still dirt stained from his trek to your house.
“I’ll draw you a bath,” you say. “While I make dinner.”
He rises, hastily fastening the button of his fly so the work pants don’t drop to the floor. The belt buckle he leaves as it is, the end with the metal piece jingling as he walks, following you up the stairs. The farmhouse squeaks in protest with each step. A heavy tred, though the milkman had never seemed anything but lean. Perhaps what was dwelling inside lent the extra weight.
You turn the lights on as you go, making sure every corner is devoid of shadows. There’s a tiny linen closet in the hall you retrieve a bath towel from. You’re considering what clothing you might have that he could wear while you wash his. Something a former boyfriend had left behind, maybe. You lean and turn the faucets of the claw foot tub on, testing the water temperature and adjusting accordingly.
“I have to find something for you to wear. Just leave everything on the sink and I’ll wash it for you.” You’re about to exit the room when he halts you, fingers lightly closing over your forearm. The previously injured one.
His lips touch yours. Just once. Just for the feel of it, to place a reminder there. You were his.
The deceiver releases you, working on the buttons of his work shirt’s cuffs. You duck out of the bathroom, making your way to your dresser. Nearly every piece of furniture in the home is hand made, built to last. Solid pine, the scent of it still strong after all these years as you begin rummaging inside. There, at the bottom. Shoved way back. Undershirt, briefs.
You snatch at them and return to the other room. Finding the imposter nude, standing beside the tub. You blush, not looking directly at him as you shut off the faucets. You test the temperature a final time and decide it’s safe.
“Soap, shampoo. Here’s a wash cloth.” You point out the items. Wondering if these creatures ever bathed. If cleansing their true form was ever a concern.
One foot sinks into the water. The other follows. He sits down slowly. A little sigh escaping at the feeling of soaking in the warmth.
“I’m going to go start supper.” You close the door softly behind you, descending the stairs. Considering your options for a meal. You’d never gotten a chance to check the garden earlier, so fresh vegetables were out. Canned ones, then. Green beans and instant mashed potatoes from the box. Leftover meatloaf from the previous evening. A quick, easy meal to prepare. Your eyes linger on the bottle of milk in the refrigerator. Not from Francis’ company, but a reminder nonetheless. You shut the fridge again after grabbing the necessary ingredients, then preheat the oven.
It doesn’t take long to get things ready. How strange to see two place settings on the oak kitchen table. You hadn’t had company over in a long time.
Still no appearance from your current guest. You walk to the foot of the stairs. “Francis! Dinner is ready.” You were still unsure how else to address him. It just seemed easier to call him that. If it bothered him, he didn’t reveal it.
The pretender returns just as you’re pouring two glasses of iced tea. You’ve never seen Francis with wet hair; it lies so dark and flat when it’s wet. The clothing you’ve lent doesn’t quite fit right, a little loose on the shirt and tighter on the material clinging to his hips.
“I’m sorry I don’t have anything better to offer you. I wasn’t expecting…”
“It’s fine.” He holds out a hand, turning it over to stare curiously at new wrinkles along each digit.
“You pruned up. Spent too long in the water,” you explain. “How was the bath?”
“Enjoyable.”
“Good. Have a seat.” You drag the chair out slightly and he finishes the task, settling at the table about to be laden with food.
The dark eyes follow your movements around the kitchen. Potholders in hand as you remove the reheated dish from the oven. It seems too quiet in the house. You wish you had switched on the radio in the living room. Just for the comforting sound of background noise. Something to soothe your frayed nerves.
You sit across from your guest after you’ve filled both your plates. He still hasn’t touched anything. Hesitant. Waiting. And then you realize it. Francis would have said grace. You close your eyes and bow your head, reciting the words. “Bless us, oh Lord, for these thy gifts that we're about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord, Amen.”
A soft echo of the last word. You wonder if it would be considered blasphemy, what you’ve just done. The invader participating in it. You’ve never been overly religious yourself. You suppose you’ve committed far worse transgressions than this one over the course of the day.
The dark haired creature lifts a spoon and takes a tentative scoop of the white mixture, bringing it to his mouth. Considering the taste. “Good.”
You realize you’re starving and you dig in. Stabbing the loaf and cutting off a piece, blowing on it to make sure it’s cooled enough before taking a bite. Still moist. Your grandmother’s recipe. The figure on the opposite side of the table mimics your actions. “Careful. Don’t burn yourself. It’s still hot.” You hate burning your tongue. That awful soreness, the awkward numb feeling.
It doesn’t take long for the imposter to clear his plate. “Seconds?” He nods and you push back your chair, lifting his plate and returning to the counter. The glass he refills himself from the pitcher on the table. “Have you eaten before this?”
“Yes. But it wasn’t…” He pauses. “Different than this.” He seems reluctant to elaborate and you’re not sure you want him to, so you let the subject matter drop, setting another helping before him and retaking your seat.
You struggle for a safe topic of conversation. Everything you think of, each query you seek answers for, seem anything but. This domestic peace between you feels fragile. You’re not sure how long it will last.
After the meal concludes you bring your dishes to the counter and the false milkman copies your actions, piling them next to yours beside the sink. You let the water run hot and then plug the drain, filling the sink halfway. You squeeze a generous dollop of dish soap from the bottle tucked on the rim of the porcelain basin. A little too generous, maybe. There are a few little iridescent bubbles that drift through the air in front of you.
One arm tucks around your waist from behind. Lips beside your ear. You struggle to scrub the plate in your hands, your heart pounding. A throbbing further down. Still hungry for him.
He hums Francis’ song. You feel tears welling in your eyes again. The dish you set in the drying rack nearly falls, your wet fingers clumsy.
“Did he suffer?”
The humming stops. “What?”
“Francis. When you took him over. Was it quick, at least?”
“Yes.” He could be lying, of course. But why would the alien care about your own comfort?
You pull the drainer from the sink and the water level begins descending, the last of it suctioned inside with a loud squelching noise. He’s still holding you. His breath warm by your cheek.
You can see nothing through the window above the sink. You stare at that void, blinking away the tears.
***
You’d forgotten about the bloodstains on Francis’ work shirt.
You’ve just begun lathering the fabric with soap in the bathroom sink upstairs when you notice the incriminating flecks.
Hydrogen peroxide will remove them. Erase those traces of the milkman’s lifeforce that had spattered upon his surrender.
It makes you want to weep again.
Once your chores are completed you take your own bath.
You don’t linger. You’re thinking of the doppelgänger resting in the chair in the corner of your bedroom. Trying to figure out where he’ll spend the night. The living room couch, maybe.
The mirrored medicine cabinet is clouded when you emerge. You swipe at it ineffectually with your towel, still damp from your body. The one the creature had used lying in a pile on the floor by the tub. You toss it into the hamper before dragging a comb through your hair and brushing your teeth. Hastily sliding into a sleeveless nightgown. Tiny lilacs printed on the fabric. You have them growing in the side yard, the perfumed scent when they’re in bloom wafting over you when you walk by. You touch the purple satin bow at the scooped neckline. A delicate little detail.
Those dark eyes watching you as you begin to strip the bed. He moves to assist you in stretching a fresh fitted sheet over the mattress. You can hear the drip of the water from Francis’ clothes hung to dry over the tub in the next room.
He sits on the side of the bed while you rub moisturizing lotion into your elbows, over your hands and arms. Legs once you’re seated on the opposite side. He’s moved so that he’s propped upright against the carved headboard, lower limbs stretching out along the length of the bed. Inviting himself in. Maybe it was better this way. At least you could keep an eye on him. Not worrying and wondering what he was doing downstairs all evening.
You switch off the lamp on the nightstand and lie down. Hear him scoot lower until he’s resting next to you. There’s just a top sheet at the foot of the bed. It’s really too warm for more than that. Through the cracked bedroom window you can hear the crickets chirping near the foundation outside. You turn away from him, reclining on your side, facing the wall. Willing your eyes to shut, to get some rest.
Succeeding.
You awaken and it’s still dark in the room. There is a hand on your bare shoulder, stroking circles along your deltoid muscle, grazing the path where your neck meets your shoulder, dipping into the hollow above your collarbone.
“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, and you hold your breath. Wondering again over how fast your body reacts to his touch, to his voice, to everything. “What are you doing to me?” As if you are the one caressing him in the middle of the night and not the other way around. “What is this feeling…this ache…”
You turn onto your back. He reaches blindly for your face. Following the angle of your jaw. His thumb seats in the dip in the edge below your bottom lip and he tugs gently, your mouth opening. His mouth finds yours. Tongue slithering between. You whimper. Your fingers seed in his hair. Still slightly damp. Refusing to dry in this humidity. He reaches for the hem of your nightgown, sliding the cotton material upward. Immediately at your panties, eagerly working inside. A heavy sigh of satisfaction from him. You gasp, your legs falling open. So wet already. Your body not caring if this isn’t really the man you love. It wants this. It craves this forbidden touch.
He’s so, so good at the touching. Retaining everything you’d showed him previously. Expertly manipulating your clit. Thrusting inside of you. You moan into his mouth. The side of his throat. You lap at that skin. Rough now. The first pricks of new growth of facial hair coarse against you.
“My sweet girl. Mine. You’re mine.” You do not protest. Your hips are lifting, grinding you against his fingers. It doesn’t take long to find your release. Your nails rake his back. The praise spills from his lips. The claims that you belong to him continue. His possession. His. To do with as he wishes. “Touch me, love. I need you.”
You find his cock leaking against the tight fitting underwear. You shove at the elastic top, releasing it partially from its confines. Stroking. He shifts positions, resting on one forearm. Fucking into the tight ring of your fingers. “Francis.” He’s not him, he never will be, but it’s so easy to pretend when it’s like this. In the dark and the heat of the summer weather, from the exchange between your bodies.
“I want to be inside of you. I want…I want…”
His breath shudders and his hips stutter as his orgasm rocks through him. Spilling hot seed over your fingers. The mattress dipping and creaking as he drops his full weight down onto it. You slip out of bed, padding barefoot into the hallway to retrieve a wash cloth. Washing your hands at the sink in the bathroom before bringing the dampened material back to the imposter in your bed, dragging it over his skin until you’re satisfied he’s clean.
You leave the soiled cloth on the nightstand, lying back down with your back to him again. He pulls you against him. The curves of your bodies fit together like spoons resting stacked in a silverware drawer. Your hands rest on the forearms curled around your torso. Feeling the threads of his body hair. He breathes your name into your neck and you shiver. There are still so many hours before dawn.
***
The week of your suspension passes quickly.
Francis’ doppel has already moved back into the apartments. Calls made. To the milkman’s employer. To the DDD director. He says he seemed placated, but you know better. They’ve been alerted. They’re going to be watching him closely. Both of you.
You like having him visit your home far more than you should.
It’s beginning to feel comfortable. A routine developing. He helps you sand and repaint the front porch once the weather is no longer humid. Tending to the garden. Mending the fence bordering the side yard. Replacing the broken bracket for one of the pantry shelves. Tightening the gasket under the kitchen sink when you hear water dripping during dinner one evening. There are endless repairs when one owns a home. Especially one of this age. It’s strange to see the imposter working so diligently to maintain it.
Stranger still how much you enjoy him in your bed.
There are many kisses and touches. Moments of taking each apart with hands and mouths. You learn each other’s bodies. You know he wants even more of you. You want it, too. But you’re reluctant. For so many reasons. Fearing an accidental pregnancy not the least of them.
The guilt of betraying the real Francis that still haunts you.
***
Your replacement as doorman had not been very tidy.
The desk is cluttered with papers, confiscated entry requests and identification cards. Pens no longer in their cup beside the phone. The day’s listing taped sloppily to the wall beside the window so it hangs at an angle.
You spend some time rearranging things. Restoring order. Internally, you’re trying to get yourself back into the right frame of mind. You have a duty to protect the residents. The replicants are not welcome. Never to be trusted. Francis’ copy is the only exception.
You shouldn’t be making it.
He’s there at your window later that day. Looking tired. Thrusting his ID and paperwork through the narrow slot at the base of the glass. Merely for show, of course. There is a security camera inside the office now. That video feed being constantly monitored by a DDD member. You’ve already warned him about it.
There’s an extra piece of paper beneath the entry request form. A small scrap with a torn edge. You tuck it into your palm quickly before reviewing his documents, then handing them back with a smile before pressing the door to allow him to enter.
You make a show of shifting some papers, your back to the camera as you quickly unfold the secret message. An invitation to come to his apartment once your shift is over. It wasn’t wise to draw attention to him. But you find yourself unable to resist the offer. You see the pilot that lives near Francis leaning in the open doorway of his residence as you exit the elevator after your workday ends, smoking a cigarette.
“Mr. Rudboys,” you greet him, nodding. “I’m just dropping off some paperwork for Mr. Mosses.”
He grunts, a smirk twitching his thin lips. “Sure you are, doll.”
Your spine stiffens in embarrassment, your neck warm beneath your shirt collar as you knock on the apartment door.
Your lover opens it and you hastily bid farewell to his neighbor before you enter, closing the door behind you with a little sigh of relief. “I think he might suspect—” You don’t get a chance to finish as his mouth covers yours. “Francis,” you gasp.
“I’ve missed you,” he says, planting kisses along your throat, unbuttoning the top of your blouse and seating his lips in the hollow there. “This tedious work routine is unbearable.”
“I did warn you. You have to earn a living. Pay bills. I still don’t understand why you wanted this.”
“It’s not the mundane work ethic you devote yourselves to that we’re interested in, I assure you.” He nibbles your ear.
“So why do it, then?”
He sighs, his affectionate gestures ceasing. “Do you really want to talk about this right now? I had envisioned a rather different evening for us. I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?”
“I found something I know you’ll like. Come here.” He leads you into the living room. There’s a tan object resting on the coffee table. The length is too short to be a suitcase, the height making you realize what it is a heartbeat before he lifts the lid. A portable record player. Beside it, a shallow stack of vinyl albums. “Saw it in a shop window on my route downtown. I’ve no idea if you like those artists, but…”
“Francis.” You cover your mouth with your hand. You can hardly believe it. Such a thoughtful gesture. From the intruder or some sentiment of the man he’d taken over. You don’t know which is which. You never have.
“Try it out,” he invites.
You already know which record you’re going to play. At the very top of the pile you see Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong’s collaboration. You slide it from the sleeve and place it on the turntable. Setting the needle down gently on the ebony disc, you grin when it starts to play.
“Turn the volume up. It’s only fair, considering.” He nods towards the direction of the apartment where Mia Stone and her fiancé reside, a mischievous smirk on his features.
You comply, still uncomfortable with making it too loud. “Dance with me?” You’re not certain if he knows how. But the memory is there for him, plucked from the depths at this hour of need. His hands rest on your waist. You twine your arms behind his neck.
Stars shining bright above you
Night breezes seem to whisper, I love you
Birds singin' in the sycamore trees
Dream a little dream of me
He turns, lifting you easily. You smile again, allowing him to pull one of your hands free to clasp beside you as you rest the other one on his shoulder, swaying gently as your bodies move in a tight circle.
Say nighty-night and kiss me
Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me
While I'm alone and blue as can be
Dream a little dream of me
The doppel leans suddenly and you gasp, but his hand is strong against your lower spine, the other holding your hand tightly. The throaty male singer’s voice begins the next verse as you’re lifted upright again.
Stars fading but I linger on dear
Still craving your kiss
Now I'm longin' to linger till dawn dear
Just saying this
“I thought you didn’t like music,” you murmur against his ear, lifting slightly on your toes.
“It’s growing on me.” You draw back to find him smiling. Francis’ smile. Your heart lurching in your chest again as the artists’ voices join together.
Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Leave the worries behind you
But in your dreams, whatever may be
You've gotta make me a promise, promise to me
You'll dream, dream a little dream of me
The song ends. His hands cup your face. “Sweetheart.” His mouth hungry on yours. “Come to bed with me, love.”
You nod, following him to the bedroom. Undressing each other. Practiced at this now, clothing quickly shed. Not stopping to move the comforter, pressing your naked body down on top of it.
“I want to be inside of you.” He says this often, and it frightens you as much as it thrills you.
“Francis…”
“Let me in, love, please. My special, sweet girl…” His hand wedges between your thighs. Never once has he forced you. Never once have you denied him. You open your legs and he straightens, kneeling between that v shaped space. Running his erection along your pink flesh, parting your nether lips, spreading the slick from your core through them. Massaging your hooded button. Pausing outside your entrance. Waiting for your permission.
“Please,” he says, and it’s the first time you’ve heard him say the word.
“Okay.”
Pressure as the fattened dome violates your canal. You gasp and his hands instantly reach to soothe you, caressing your thigh as he thrusts inside gradually. He leans his weight forward in small increments, bringing your legs up as he goes. Pressing deeper inside of you. Still more than you’re used to. There’s a burn accompanying the stretch as his prick fills your pussy. A kind of raw ache when he is fully sheathed, bumping against the edge of your cervix. Lifting his hips, the shaft sliding back. Thrust in again. A slow rhythm that you know belies what he really wants. His arms tremor with the tension on either side of you. Your knees hug his ribs. He kisses you and you rock against him. The movements become easier. A wet sound every time he bottoms out, his cock fully buried, the base of his groin tapping your own.
“So perfect, love. So tight around me.” He’s already perspiring. He hadn’t opened the window. The air in the room is stale and warm. You taste the salt of his leaking sweat when he kisses you.
“Francis. You feel so good…” The discomfort has subsided. Now, every motion brings nothing but pleasure. Your nails dig into his shoulders. The warning your mind attempts to deliver is ignored. You want this. You want him. You’ll worry about the consequences later.
He moans loudly. “They’ll hear you next door,” you caution.
“I don’t give a fuck. You’re mine,” he growls, nipping at your throat. “I want to mark you again. Somewhere everyone will see.” Sucking kisses near your collarbone. Moving back to your neck.
“Oh, Francis, don’t.” You know how difficult it is to conceal a hickey. You can’t allow it. Imagining greeting the residents with a bloom of raspberry on your throat after the fragile vessels beneath had burst. It was too much.
“A different kind of mark, then. Like the one I made before. Somewhere they won’t see.” There is still an ache to the healing wound he’d previously left. The sutures have been removed, the edges knitting together nicely. “I like being able to feel you when you’re not with me.” He thrusts back inside you. “I won’t hurt you, I promise. You don’t have to be afraid of me.” His pelvis jerks faster, his passion building once more. A hand snakes between your bodies, thumb stroking your clit.
“Oh…” Your hips roll up, making that finger collide more firmly. The familiar sensation of release building inside of you. The coil tightening. “Francis…”
“Cum for me, love. Want to feel you around me.”
Your lower spine is on fire. You can’t hold back any longer. You climax, the walls of your canal spasming around him as the pleasure wracks through your body. Trying to milk your partner’s release. It’s working. You recognize the tell tale shudder. The way his breathing becomes ragged. “Please let me,” he says again, his voice full of need.
“Yes.”
A sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh escapes him. His mouth at the place where your neck and shoulder meet. An instant of heat and needle sharp pain. Something piercing you. Not Francis’ teeth, but belonging to the thing inside of him. The hurt vanishes, replaced by another sensation. You’re warm again. Your body ready for another release. The wave of a second orgasm dragging the doppel through his own. You feel the wet heat of his ejaculate filling you deep inside.
The damp skin you’re clutching ripples. That hazy shimmer visible when he draws back slightly to regard your features, still buried in your womb. You haven’t seen this struggle for many days now. Nearly forgetting its existence. Allowing yourself to be deluded.
Now reminded as the imposter fights for control. The hand that had been draped loosely against your throat tightens slightly, a sharp prick of claws digging into that soft skin, nearly enough to invade that barrier. Your eyes widen in alarm. “Francis,” you manage to choke out.
He abruptly releases you. Looking at his hand as if it’s foreign to him. The movement beneath his flesh stops, the halo fading. He is whole again.
“I’m sorry. I was overwhelmed, I…” His voice trails off. You struggle to move and he withdraws. You feel his cum dripping out of you, staining the blanket beneath you. “Sweetheart.” Worry in his eyes. Touching your cheek. Your force yourself not to flinch. Not to think about the unnatural seed he’s just filled you with. What that union could possibly result in.
The bite he’s left tingles. You reach for it absently, the flesh warm beneath your fingers. It’s slightly raised and firm. Like getting an insect bite, your body reacting to the venom injected.
“It will go away. I didn’t…it’s not deep.” His fingers nudging yours, feeling the injury. “Sweetheart. You’re so quiet. Talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling. What you’re thinking.”
“I don’t know.” There are so many of each, all competing to be heard and felt. “I think…I think I’d better go home now.”
“Stay,” he pleads. This sudden begging of his, you’re not sure what to make of it. “Even if not for the night, just stay with me.”
You shake your head. “I should go. It’s well past curfew.”
“I don’t care about your stupid government’s rules,” he snaps impatiently.
“I do. I have to live by them.” You move to sit on the side of the mattress, his hand reaching for you, settling on your scarred forearm.
“I thought about you all day. All I wanted was this. To be with you.”
“Francis. I can’t stay. Truly. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You bend to retrieve the nearest article of clothing you can reach.
“You’re upset with me.”
“I’m scared, Francis.”
“Of me?”
“Yes. No. Not just you. Everything. You guide his hand to your abdomen. “What will you do if there’s a baby?”
“Is that what you’re so concerned about?“ He sighs heavily, looking relieved. “I’ll protect it. Just like I’ll protect you.”
“They would never let us keep it. Not your species. Not the organization. The DDD would dispose of it. Your race…you wanted it for an experiment. You told me that.”
“That was before.”
“Before what?”
“You know what.”
You swallow thickly. “This is so dangerous. And you act like it’s not. They’ll kill us, Francis.”
He shakes his head firmly. “No. I won’t let that happen. Did you notice there were no doppels today?”
“I did. It’s unusual, but it does happen on occasion.”
“That’s because of me. Because they recognize this.” He caresses your marked arm. “No one would ever dare harm you.” His fingers now on the new puncture he’d created.
“Even if that’s true, it won’t stop the DDD.”
The imposter cups your cheek. “You’ve done something to me. Not something visually apparent. Something inside. I have to be with you.” He kisses you, the intially chaste gesture deepening and your hand relaxes, dropping the garment you’d retrieved back to the carpet. “Stay with me. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”
You can’t refuse.
#francis mosses x reader#francis mosses x you#thats not my neighbor#milkman x reader#milkman x you#francis mosses#milkman
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Save a horse, ride a cowboy
Tara Carpenter x fem!reader (r is also implied to be more masculine-leaning)
Summary: Tara rides you 🤷♀️ no Ghostface au
Words: 3.5k
A/n: the card game they play is called “do or drink” so if you don’t understand the rules here, search it up and it’ll probably make more sense
Warnings: G!P reader, explicit sex, unprotected sex (you pull out dw), blowjob, face fucking, Tara lowkey has a size kink, R has a praise kink lol, service top!R, power bottom!T (i think? idk positions that well)
MINORS DNI!!
Tara didn’t really feel like being at this party. Unfortunately for her, she was a victim of peer pressure by Mindy. The twin said something about “getting laid” and how Tara needed to “get some”, but in all honesty, she wasn’t actually listening
The party she was at was cowboy/southern-themed, and Tara opted to wear some plaid and a white crop top. Chad went fully cowboy, through. Tara said he looked like a dork, but his eyes were set on looking like someone from Red Dead Redemption. The brunette didn’t know how he did it, but Chad didn’t even look half bad. Tara swears he has a superpower at looking stupid and not stupid at the same time
Mindy on the other hand, did the least. The twin adorned a black shirt and a brown leather jacket with southern-ish accessories
Chad didn’t bother knocking or ringing the bell over the loud music, and he let himself, Mindy, and Tara into the house. There was a familiar smell in the house. Weed and alcohol absolutely flamed her nostrils, and she scrunched up her nose. When Tara’s eyes landed on you, she swore you were a goddess straight from Texas heaven
“Mindy.”
“I see her, Tara”
“Mindy.”
“No straight woman wears a wife beater. You’re in the clear”
In Tara’s favor, Chad yelled your name and waved you over
“Mindy, Tara, this is Y/N! She coached me back in Woodsboro. She’s also from Texas, so i invited her to show up all the fake cowboys like me” The football player slung an arm around your shoulder, and you held out your hand for the two girls to shake
“Nice to meet you two” Your accent was practically nonexistent, but certain words have you away. When your hand meets Tara’s, yours engulfs hers and she swears she can feel her heart beating in her throat
“Chad speaks well of y’all”
“Really? I’m surprised” Mindy laughs, but Tara is too busy sweating over you to engage in conversation
“I’m gonna introduce Y/N to the rest of our friend group, i’ll see you two around!”
“Have a good night, you two” You tip your hat with a wink, and follow after Chad
“So, wanna explain?” Mindy sends a knowing glance at Tara, a small smirk on her face
“Absolutely not.” The shorter girl makes her way into the kitchen, pouring herself a solo cup of whatever alcohol she can find. Tara chooses to ignore the burning sensation down her throat
“Nope, you’re going to talk right now. I didn’t even know you were into women like her”
“Neither did i, that’s the problem” Tara groans, covering her face with her hands
“What’s the plan?”
“There is no plan, Mindy. I don’t even know how to get close to her…” Eros or Aphrodite must’ve been listening real close because not a second later, she sees you being dragged around by Chad, rounding up a few people to play a drinking card game
“Tara! Mindy! Play drinking games with us? Ethan, Quinn, Y/N, Amber, Wes, Anika, Liv, a few other people and i are playing”
Mindy nods, and they follow you two to the living room, where all the aforementioned people were sitting. Some on the couch and some on the floor. You took your spot on the floor with Chad on your left, and Quinn on your right on the couch.
Chad clears his throat, and all eyes are on him. “Alright! Rules are simple. Everyone has to draw a white card, and do what it says. If you get a white card that says ‘Draw’, you have to get a black card and either do what it says, or drink however much it tells you. Make sense?”
The group nods, and small discussions are made between people. Tara is seated between Mindy, who’s talking to Anika, and Ethan, who’s talking to Chad
“Since i’m the one that wanted to play, i will graciously go first” Chad pulls his white card, and his face lights up. “War! Challenge another player to an arm wrestle. The loser must drink”
The twin gets up, and he points straight at your forehead. “Y/N! This cowboy challenges you in a duel of our arms!”
“How could i say no. I agree to your challenge, my good sir” You shake hands, and make your way to the coffee table in the middle of the room. Tara is on your right, and you give her a perfect view of your bicep
“You look nervous, Chad. Are you afraid?”
“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Therefore, the student always wins” he smiles at you, and your competitive side starts to bubble up
“When i win, i’ll make sure to spoon feed you your own words” readjusting your grip on Chad’s hand, Ethan makes his way over to be the referee
“Three…”
Tara notices your concentrated face, and how you bite your lip in anticipation
“Two…”
You adjust your grip once again, and Tara wonders what else your hands can do
“One!” Ethan lets go of yours and Chad’s attached hands, and they both stay in place. Tara can tell you two were pretty evenly matched
“C’mon, Y/N! Gag him!” Mindy cheers for you
“Don’t listen to her, babe. You got this!” Liv cheers for Chad
“Show him up, Y/N! You’ve got it” Tara cheers with a smile on her face, and you momentarily stop pushing before you catch yourself
“What’s the matter, Y/N? Losing already?”
“We’ll see” When you hear Tara say your name again, a new urge to win rushes through your body. In one swift motion, Chad’s hand meets the table, and those who were supporting you cheer
“What did you say about the student always winning?” You say with a wide grin on your face, and you kiss your arm in a show of ego
“That was a fluke! I want a rematch!” The twin says playfully
“Like you wouldn’t just lose again”
“Whatever, it’s your turn to draw”
You pick up a card, and you laugh to yourself. “Vote! On the count of three, everyone points to the person they think has had sex in the most interesting spot. The player with the most votes must confess their sex spot and take a drink”
“Alright! Three, two, one!” You count down, and mostly everyone is mostly pointing at Quinn
“Geez, what do you guys think of me?” She takes a sip of her drink. “And my most interesting spot was under the bleachers during his football practice”
This goes on until it’s Tara’s turn. Amber got an “All brunettes must drink” card, Anika got to be Simon in Simon Says (which Tara had to drink for losing first), and Mindy drew a card that made all of the single people drink. Luckily for Tara, you drank when Mindy pulled her card
“Your turn, Tara! What’ll you get?” Chad quickly made himself the keeper of cards, sitting in the middle as you sat on the couch in his place. Tara leans over, and she takes a card from Chad. Revealing her card, she see’s it says to draw
“Our very first ‘Draw’ card! I wonder what it’ll be” Chad grins, and Tara pulls a black card from the deck
“Spin a bottle. Whoever it lands on, sit on their lap for the next 2 rounds or both must drink four times”
Oohs are exchanged throughout the group, and Tara rolls her eyes in embarrassment. Less than a second later, Chad hands Tara an empty beer bottle. The twin takes his spot somewhere in the circle, and the brunette spins the bottle
“I’ll pray it lands on her” Mindy playfully nudges her shoulder, and Tara blushes. Neither of you knew it, but both you and the brunette hoped the bottle ended up pointing at you. It went around once, twice, three times
Slowly passing by the person to your right, the bottle points straight at you and you swear time stops for a second. Tara meets your eyes, and you swear she’s blushing when Mindy shoves her towards you
Tara awkwardly sits on your lap, moving to find a comfortable spot
You place a reassuring hand on her hip. “You know you don’t have to do this, right? If you’re uncomfortable, nobody is gonna judge you” Tara can feel your hand leave her side, and the smaller girl has to physically stop herself from letting out a whine of frustration
“I’m not uncomfortable. I just… need to adjust.” The brunette not-so-accidentally grinds her hips against yours, and she swears she hears you let out a tiny groan
It’s Wes’ turn next, but Tara can’t focus as she gropes around the couch for your hands. The alcohol in her system takes over when she leans back into you, and makes you wrap your arms around her torso. You happily oblige
“You having a good night, so far?”
Tara decides to be bold. “It’s definitely better in your lap”
Despite your semi-hard cock uncomfortably rubbing against your jeans, you try your best to learn more about Tara. Asking how her day was, what she’s majoring in, if she has any family; all while the brunette causes more friction by slowly rubbing her ass on your crotch. You have to suppress many moans as she not-so-casually grinds on you
Tara learns that you used to work on a family farm in Texas, but moved to California for college. You told her about the animals, the pumpkin patches, and looking up at the stars with your siblings
Not even noticing it’s your turn again, Chad has to remind you to draw a card. You instantly miss Tara’s heat when she crawls off your lap so you can draw a card. The game goes on for the next hour or so, and you can barely remember what you had to do after all the drinks you’ve had
You end up having to quit the game halfway through when you refuse to send a nude photo of yourself to a random number or take a drink. Tara’s card no longer applies very early on, but she actively decides to sit in your lap for the rest of the game
Amber kicks out the rest of the party-goers around 1 am, and you’ve been tasked to drive Tara and Mindy home. Somehow you’re the least drunk. Since Chad was their ride and he’s off somewhere making out with Liv, you so graciously offered to drive them home.
The ride to Mindy’s house was quiet, but it was a comfortable quiet. You tapped on the steering wheel to the soft music, Mindy was half asleep, and Tara was discreetly trying to look at you from the passenger seat. You dropped Mindy off at her place, and now you were on your way to Tara’s house. The moonlight was hitting your eyes in the right way, causing them to sparkle the tiniest bit Tara had a little staring problem
“Do i have something on my face?”
“Do you want to stay over at my place?” The brunette blurts out, instantly regretting her words. “I mean- uh, if you want…”
“Sure, i’d like to stay over. I’m pretty sure i have some extra clothes in here, anyway. Any scary dogs i should beware of?”
“Does my sister count?”
“Only if she bites” This earns a laugh from Tara, and you mentally pat yourself on the back
“Definitely beware of her. She’s staying at her boyfriends place tonight, so you’re good”
“Noted” You pull into the Carpenters driveway, and both of you get out. Grabbing an extra hoodie, shirt, and shorts, you follow Tara into her house
“Bathroom is on the left. Do you want to watch a movie?”
“Sure, you can pick”
“You’re gonna wish you never said that. Let’s watch The Babadook”
“Seriously? Dude, i used to jump like six feet in the air when the floor boards creaked in the barn”
“You’ll live” Rolling your eyes at her words, you made your way to her bathroom to change. You made sure to freshen up, even though you two were just watching a movie. The smell of buttered popcorn filled your lungs and you could faintly hear the popping kernels
When you leave her bathroom, Tara’s already changed into something more comfortable
“Do we have to watch something scary? Can’t we watch a sitcom or something?”
“Listen, you let me decide but we don’t have to if you don’t wanna” Tara finds her seat on the couch, your shoulders touching when she sits down the bowl of popcorn between you two
“But i will think you’re a pussy”
“The Babadook it is” You click play on the remote, and Tara lays her head on your shoulder. She barely pays attention to the movie, considering she’s seen it far too many times. Instead, the brunette opts to watch you and all of your reactions. You’ve raised the blanket up under your nose and leaned into Tara about 20 times, and the movie is just about halfway through
Every now and again you’d flinch in anticipation, and Tara would rub your thigh in support. You don’t know if your heart is beating due to the movie, or due to Tara practically being on top of you for the second time this night
When the movie ends and the credits roll, you can only stare at the black screen and Tara lets out a laugh
“So, what do you think?”
“I don’t think i’ll be able to sleep tonight, Tara”
“You’ll be okay” The brunette pats your cheek
“Can we watch something lighter? Like My Little Pony?”
“Of course you were a horse girl”
“Actually i was an Equestria Girls girl, thank you” You huff
“Tomato, potato, they were all ponies” Tara rolls her eyes, and smiles “I think i have another horror movie you’ll like. Well, it’s technically a trilogy”
“Absolutely not! I’d like to be able to close my eyes tonight and not hallucinate a monster leaning over me”
“There’s a scene where two girls kiss”
“…Fine.”
An hour in, the two main girls are making out in their bras, and you’re staring quite intensely at the scene. Something in the room shifts, and all of a sudden you start to feel hotter. Tara goes from rubbing your thigh to slowly dragging her hand to your crotch, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Your breath hitches when she starts to rub your clothed cock
“A-Are we about to do the thing?” You say unsure, but the brunette is already pulling you off the couch and leading you to her room
Before you know what’s happening, Tara is guiding you into her bedroom and pushing you up against a wall. Her kisses are hungry and fast, wanting to taste every part of you. When she starts to fiddle with your shorts, you let out a small laugh at how she huffs in frustration
“Take it off, already.”
“Someone’s needy” You tease
“I’ve been eye fucking you all night. I’m not waiting any longer. I had to drag you here myself”
“I didn’t know if i was reading your signals wrong…” You mumble, and Tara hates how adorable you look. God why were you cute and hot at the same time
“I was grinding on you the entirety of those two rounds at the party”
“You said you were adjusting! I thought my lap was uncomfortable!”
“I hate how the oblivious ones are always the hottest.” Tara finally manages to pull down your shorts through shaky hands, and she feels her mouth water when she sees the small tent in your underwear
“Spider-man boxers?” the shorter girl quirks an eyebrow at you
“I didn’t think i’d have sex tonight” You suck in a breath when Tara starts to rub your cock through your boxers
“Really? You didn’t think you’d get laid tonight looking like this” Tara motions to your entire body with her non-busy hand. “Maybe i should show you how pretty you are. Do you want that, baby?” The brunette squeezes your cock; and you nod, not trusting your voice to do anything but moan
As she gets on her knees, Tara pulls down your boxers just enough to reveal your hardened dick
“Jesus, you’re big…” The brunette says to herself, but you can feel your ego boost at her words. Tara starts to lick the veins on your shaft, and you can feel her massaging your balls. Your cock is drooling pre-cum when Tara kisses your tip, and you let out a breathy moan
“Please, Tara…”
“Tell me what you want, baby”
“Please let me fuck your mouth”
“Let me adjust to your size first. I’ll let you know when you can start, does that sound good?”
“A-Anything you want”
“You’re cute.” Tara kisses your tip again before taking it into her mouth, eliciting a moan from your throat. She swirls her tongue in a way that drives your crazy. Her hands make their way around your thighs, and Tara squeezes your ass as she takes half your cock into her mouth. The brunette squeezes your balls and you hear her gag as her nose meets your lower abdomen. The sight of Tara deepthroating your cock almost makes you cum
“Fuck.” You breathe out. You try backing away to give Tara a little room to breathe but she just ends up making you thrust into her mouth, making her gag. You pull her face away from your cock not wanting her to choke, and the shorter girl wipes a little drool off her chin
“Why’d you do that?” Tara asks, a little annoyed
“I didn’t want you to run out of breath. Your eyes were watering”
“It’s nice how much you care about me. I can assure you i can handle your cock, baby. It helps you taste good”
“If it ever gets too much or becomes uncomfortable, squeeze my hand” You tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and Tara’s heart flutters at how soft you’re being despite the situation
“I promise i’ll let you know if it starts to become too much, baby” The brunette kisses your tip once again and dives right back into sucking your dick. When you look down and she gives you a small nod, your hands tangle in her hair. You start off with small thrusts, slowly going faster as Tara gets used to your size
“F-Fuck you’re amazing” Your balls slap against her chin, and Tara almost cums at how dirty it feels having you fuck her throat like a fleshlight
“Shit, i’m gonna cum, Tara…” You moan, and the brunette gives you a pleading look. You can only assume it means ‘Please cum down my throat’, so that’s exactly what you do. You release your load in her mouth with a groan, and Tara happily swallows all of it down. When she pulls away from your cock, you use your thumb to wipe away the leftover cum on her chin. Tara takes your thumb in her mouth, and licks away the rest of your semen
She gets off her knees, and gets up to pull you into another searing kiss. You can taste yourself on her tongue, and you moan into her mouth at the flavor
“Jesus, you’re still hard?”
“I have the stamina of a stallion” You shrug, feigning a big ego
“Oh, yeah? How about i ride you and we’ll see if you can handle it”
“You have such a beautiful way with words”
“I’d be mad about the teasing of you weren’t cute. Hurry up and get naked, already”
“Yes ma’am” Barely a second passes before Tara’s lips are on yours. In a flurry of heat, both of your clothes end up strewn about her bedroom. Tara pushes you onto her bed. She straddles your lap and kisses you with a new wave of confidence and fervor. When the brunette urges you to lay back, you have to actively keep your jaw closed at the sight of Tara. Unfortunately for you, she notices your staring
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer”
“Can i really?”
“Mm… maybe next time”
Your face lights up. “Next time?”
“After you take me on a date first. We can talk about the specifics later” Tara softly kisses the bridge of your nose, making you close your eyes and blush
“Right now, i want you in me.” The brunette on top of you lines up your tip with her pussy, slowly sinking down your shaft
“Fuck,” Tara takes the rest of your cock in her, and you massage her hips when you can feel her squeezing around you “You feel so good, baby”
Noticing how you moan at her praise, Tara takes note of this. She starts to move up and down, and the feeling of her around you earns a whimper from your throat. Moans are exchanged as Tara starts to ride you faster, constantly increasing her pace
“I’m close, Tar” You breathe out, letting her nickname slip through your lips
“Fuck i am too, baby. You’re so big” Her words are reinforced as she starts to tighten around your cock, and you have to use all your strength to pull out. You ejaculate your cum all over your stomach, and so does Tara. When you both come down from your high, the brunette notices how you’re still somehow hard
“Round two?”
—
A/n pt.2: cookie if you can guess the second movie they watch
#jenna ortega x reader#tara carpenter x reader#jenna ortega#tara carpenter#chad meeks martin#mindy meeks martin#sam carpenter#scream#anika kayoko#scream 6#amber freeman#quinn bailey#ethan landry
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something about hyperfeminine reader x rick.... another anon said he'd adore pink nail polish & i so totally agree. maybe cause he's so rough and sharp edged? and it's the very opposite of him? so the pretty pink skirts & sweet perfume you always wear would make his brain fuzzy in the best way !! 🤧
using this as an excuse to write something extremely self indulgent 🤍 obsessed with this sweet, girly, almost bimbo reader that Rick can’t help but be a little extra soft with… <3
When he steps out of the shower and onto the bathmat, he can’t help but smile at the sight of you sitting on the sink, one foot up and crouched over, focused intently on the toenail you’re currently painting. And he can’t help but notice how cute it is that your tongue is poking out the side of your mouth.
Rick rubs a towel on his hair and then wraps it around his waist, walking over to the dresser in the bedroom and grabbing some boxers. You’re a little too immersed in perfecting the pale pink pedicure to notice that he even finished his shower.
“Need some help?” He asks, coming up to the sink and reaching into a drawer. Grabbing some shaving cream and a safety razor.
You look up at the sound of his husky voice. Taking in the sight of his wet hair. Curls forming and dripping onto his shoulders. His torso, glistening with little beads of water that are racing to meet the waist band of his plaid boxer shorts.
“Hm?” You say. The sight of him went straight between your legs, making you almost immediately forget his question.
“D’you need some help there, sweetie?” He nods towards the hand gripping at Essie’s ballet slippers.
“Oh. No, I just finished. Thank you though,” you smile up at him sweetly, screwing the cap back on the bottle and turning to let your legs dangle off the marble countertop.
He positions himself in between your legs and against the vanity, while you lean back on your hands. Watching his brows draw together in focus as he rubs shaving cream along his jaw, his chin and the bottom half of his face. Grabbing the razor, he starts to make long, languid strokes down his face and neck. The blade moving with ever curve of his jaw, so smooth and intentional. But he can feel you staring. Glancing from the mirror to your gaze and then back. Trying to fight the smirk from forming on his face.
“Is it hard?” You ask, oblivious to the teasing grin on his face.
“Shaving?”
“Yeah. Aren’t you scared you’re gonna cut yourself, or somethin’?” You ask, doe eyes wide and curious. And the sight makes him think about you on your knees, having looked up at him in nearly the exact same way, all sweet and eager and so fucking perfect.
Rick shakes his head, at both the intrusive thought and your question, “Not really. Don’t you shave your legs? It’s the same thing, sweetheart.”
“But this is on your face. And you’ve seen how many times I end up nicking myself.”
He smiles, knowing that it’s true. Watching you sit on the side of the tub, silky robe leaving very little to the imagination as you glide a razor up your legs, trying to go nice and slow and get every little hair. Turning sharply to look at him with wide eyes and a hand on your mouth when you both notice a crimson droplet, trickling all the way down to your ankle.
“Yeah. You aren’t so good at that are you?” He chuckles, pressing a quick peck to your mouth which you immediately wipe off because now there’s shaving cream on your nose.
It takes everything in his power not to kiss you again.
“So how do you always get it so good?” Your honeyed voice brings him back.
“Practice I guess. You wanna try?”
“And leave you with any more scars? No thank you.” You joke.
“C’mon. Give it a try.”
“You sure?”
He nods, urging the razor into your hand and leaning in for you, “Mhm. I trust you.”
You gulp at that comment. Hoping he can still keep that trust in a few minutes when you’re all done.
You try to copy what he was doing, going extra slow over the ridge of his jaw and the bump of his adam’s apple. He hums in approval and you take it as some kind of praise. Sitting up straight and a little more confident now that his hands have moved to your hips, pulling you to the edge of the counter. Panties now flush with his groin.
“I did it.” You say triumphantly, handing him back the razor and letting your hands slide around his waist, fingers interlocking on top of his tailbone. Cheek pressed to his chest as he leans forward to rinse the razor under the faucet beside you. Tapping the metal on the counter twice. The sound echoing through the room, before he places it on a folded towel on the other side of the sink.
He leans back up to look at you. Pretty eyes and pouty lips. Hair all soft and natural, and tucked behind the dainty gold jewelry dangling from your ears.
“Y’look so pretty.” You marvel, one hand coming up to his jaw. Freshly shaved, so smooth and warm. With just the tiniest strip of leftover shaving cream that needed to be washed off.
You are so much prettier, sweet girl, he thinks to himself. Unable to form a verbal answer now that you’re touching his face. His heart doing somersaults like it was the first time. It isn’t. But he loves feeling like it is.
Being with you in this moment makes him forget what was stressing him out before his shower. Completely unbothered by the tedious week he’d had helping the Tobin with the walls.
Now, all he can even think about is you. Your face. Your voice. Your long legs and the holy temple in between them.
He closes his eyes at your touch, soft and delicately tracing your way down his jaw. The attention sending a tingly, serene feeling up his neck and down his spine.
He can’t even help what he does next. Not that he really needed to. And definitely not that he wanted to. He pulls you in, tangling his fingers into the locks at the nape of your neck. Kissing your soft, plush lips and tracing a tongue over your bottom one.
You taste like candy. And you smell like a vanilla cupcake. And the combination of the two makes him want nothing more than to take a damn bite.
Gosh, you couldn’t be more different from him. So pure and soft and sweet. So fucking kind and perfect. And though he may be a bit biased given your relationship and all, he’s positive that not a soul in Alexandria would disagree.
Your breath hitches in your throat as he pulls your legs around his waist, and he can’t help but smile against your lips and think to himself how fucking lucky he is that he found someone who can be his escape. Who can make his brain feel all fuzzy and his heart feel way too full. Who effortlessly distracts him from everything that’s wrong with in the world, just by being your beautiful self.
#rick grimes smut#rick grimes x y/n#Rick fluff#Rick grimes fluff#Rick grimes suggestive#rick grimes fanfiction#twd fanfiction#rick grimes#rick grimes x female reader#rick grimes imagine#Rick grimes x reader#rick grimes x you#Rick daydream#t’s daydreams <3#hyperfeminine reader#hyperfeminine reader x Rick
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━━ [ LYNEY! ] OBSESSED & FIXATED.
[ gender neutral! reader / they them pronouns used! for everybody! ] ━━ genre: fluff & small suggestive themes.
content warning ━━ light suggestive themes, swearing, lyney having cringy pick up lines but it’s okay because it’s lyney. shit writing since i haven’t written in a long time :( [ authors note: i love lyney so much, him and nikolai made me realize i love magicians & i might make a bsd masterlist soon cuz i also fixated on that. i remember watching season 1 of bsd in 2020 but got bored so i stopped but i started watching a month ago so. ]
lyney and lynette’s magic show always makes your day, it was one of your favourite parts of your day. watching them pull magic tricks on the audience and you, despite you knowing how they work were still entertaining.
what made your heart accelerate was when lyney’s eyes would laid on you, with that flamboyant smirk and tipping his hat towards you could make anyone swoon, and it wasn’t a coincidence that you’ve fallen in love with him.
it was coincidence that you had bumped into him despite you trying to avoid him, it was like something drawn you in to have met him in person, and embarrassing enough, he had caught you by the waist even though you weren’t going to fall on the ground.
“hello there, my dearest lotus bloom.” he teased, pulling you up and planting a kiss on your gloved hands, flustering you. “lyney! i— um.. sorry for bumping into you.” you apologized, covering half of your flustered face with the back of your other hand.
he chuckled with closed eyes, his hand still holding onto yours, “don’t worry, my lotus bloom. i wanted you to bump into me.” his words confused you but it wasn’t as if he didn’t spoke in riddles or won’t elaborate why.
bump into you? he noticed your confusion as he chuckled again, pulling a rose behind your ear and handing it to you, flustering you even more. he was such a cliché it was adorable, and watching you get flustered just because of being around him made him feel pride swell deep inside him
he knew your flustered looks when his eyes landed on you and he knew his effects on you as well, it was quite obvious as lynette picked up on her twin brother being more extra then usual.
“are you trying to impress them?” lynette sighed into her tea cup, blowing some steam away as freminet had question on who she was talking about, “hmph! they just caught my eye, dear sister!” lyney huffed and crossed his arms, freminet and lynette looking at eachother, not believing his words.
“is it [name] you’re talking about it?” lyney instantly snapped his head towards his little brother, “[name], you say?” freminet nodded at lyney as he questioned on who freminet knows them, “[name]’s a painter, younger kids ask them if they could make a certain piece of art and they finish it within seconds.” freminet explained, and that was lyney’s final straw to make you his.
“i must say, my dear lotus bloom, you sure have caught my eye.” he smiled at you, the same smile that would swipe people of their feet as he flashed it at you, “caught your eye? but lyney, i’m just a regular guest in your audience.”
you raised an eyebrow, twirling the rose in your hand, looking down at it. lyney placed a finger under your chin and made you look at him, “you, [name], are a special guest in my audience.” he whispered, eyes flickering to your eyes and your lips.
you blinked at his words before red reached your cheeks quickly when your brain had process his words and his actions, his gloved thumb glided against your shaky bottom lip, “a very special one..” his voice went down a nouch, getting closer to your lips.
“lyney..” you whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder as he placed a hand on your waist to pull you closer.
you must be dreaming, right? wrong. everything you’re experiencing is real, every shape he traced into your skin was real and his lips on yours was real as well. nothing you are experiencing is fake.
you threw your arms around his neck to draw him closer, never wanting to be separated from him again since you two felt like puzzles pieces that fit with eachother.
who knew being obsessed and fixated would’ve helped you to get that boy.
#kaz. 💫#genshin lyney#genshin impact lyney#lyney x reader#lyney x gender neutral reader#lyney x male reader#lyney x female reader#lyney and lynette#lynette#lynette genshin#genshin#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#fontaine#lynette genshin impact#freminet#freminet genshin#freminet genshin impact#fluff
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Saccharine - E.M
Warnings ® smut! Fluff, soft bf Eddie<3, first time sex as a couple! Nasty IN LOVE smut bc this bitch is a hopeless romantic! Eddie is super sensitive, Established relationship, you stroke his dick, Eddie almost cums in his pants, lil bit of dry humping, this is incredibly self indulgent but u didn't hear that from me, overly descriptive bc why not
You shouldn't be nervous, really. It's just Eddie, who is your boyfriend of three months and twenty-six days. Who is sitting across from you on his creaky mattress criss-cross style, your knees touching. Your Eddie, who has two big hands flailing in the air as he goes on about the recent campaign, broad mouth etched into a whimsical smile, big eyes wondrous and full of excitement for the tale.
The bed bounces with his enthusiasm, and you draw closer to him with each syllable.
Your Eddie, who is doing nothing out of the ordinary, and who is as beautiful as ever in loose fitting plaid pyjama bottoms and a tattered black tee that exposes half of his collarbone and smudges of black ink - he doesn't even have to try, and perhaps these simple mundane realizations are what cause the flutter of wings in the pit of your stomach.
"And then Mike - hey, you okay?"
If it weren't for his vast change in expression, you truly wouldn't have realized what a trance you're in. Between the furrow of his unkempt brows and the amused but curious tilt at the corner of his mouth, you come back to earth. The weight of gravity settles in your bone marrow, as his calloused thumb quickly strokes your chin as if to remind you he is still here.
"I - yeah yeah, sorry I just," you grab his hand by the heaviness of his wrist, dragging it into your lap so you can stroke the back of his rough knuckles. "got distracted s'all."
Your eyes divert to where your fingers are joined and the sound of his airy, through-the-nose chuckle has more heat blossoming behind your ribcage, nudging at your organs.
"I'll stop with the D&D talk, know you hear enough about it from the kids. There's only so much dorkiness you should be subjected to, y'know?"
It's lighthearted, he's smirking and looking down at you with enough palpable fondness the apples of your cheeks feel like they're being stroked by a flame. Still, the implication that he may be bothering you in any way has an urgency filling your eyes. You shake your head.
"No, no that never bothers me Eds, don't be silly." The nickname makes his mouth dry, still, after three months and twenty-six days. You finally meet his glance. "You're just handsome, really handsome especially when you're talking about something you're passionate about and I just...yeah."
It's word vomit, messy and you feel like it makes no sense but then he squeezes your hand and you know that he reads between the nervous mumbo jumbo - you have no clue how you make him feel, do you?
"You're fucking cute." He breathes out earnestly, smoothing his grip upwards to your forearms and pulling you forward with minimal effort - right onto the stirdiness of his lap.
Your giddiness is the perfect portrait, your arms finding a resting place atop his broad shoulders. Curls tickle the tops of your arms and your wrists, and your thighs brace your frame by the slim of his taut waist. He can't help it, the giggles escaping his throat. The proximity is intoxicating for no reason at all.
"Can't believe this is our first time spending the night together, I'm so used to falling asleep on the phone with you that it really doesn't feel all that different." He smooths your hair out of your eyes, tucks it behind your left ear.
I get to touch her like this, he thinks to himself. His chest jostles underneath the muscle and bone.
"Yeah, except I get to fall asleep with you'n my arms, wake up with you in em' too. I'm one lucky son of a bitch, hmm?"
He's practically thinking out loud, but he's too far gone to feel shame. When you nuzzle your face against the warm nook of his neck, wet lips smiling against the flesh, his encapsulating arms squeeze you impossibly tighter. He buries his nose against the top of your head, inhaling the fresh scent of your shampoo. Your cheek grazes the side of his jaw as you meet him face to face, nose to nose.
He sees you trying to formulate words, a sentence, even a sound but none of it seems like a totally accurate way to express the adoration threatening to consume you from the inside out. You graze his cheek with your mouth, slowly, tentatively, and he hangs on with half an air full of lungs.
You suckle his bottom lip and he sighs into your mouth, the relief making him lightheaded. He kicks into gear and pushes back with an overlap of his mouth - hands wandering over the small of your back, to your soft lovehandles and upwards until his fingrtips have passed your jugular and he's holding your face as tenderly as you're holding his.
It's now, when you feel it - the growing firmness beneath he thin material of his bottoms. He tries to keep it at bay but it's damn near impossible, and the whimper, the fucking whimper you let out when his soft tongue touches yours from the warm cavern of your mouth - he couldn't stop it from twitching even if he wanted to. He's only a man.
And you're a menace. As new as this is, your body reacts to the prod in between your legs, underneath your crotch. You press yourself tighter to his frame, hips scooching against his hard-on in the process and he stiffens.
"Mmm, baby baby..." your pout is immediate when he breaks from your mouth, brows furrowed and lips a kiss bitten fuschia. For a moment, you think you've taken it too far too fast - he's stopped you from moving completely. Your whole body burns with a tingly sensation somewhere between shame and the aftershocks of arousal.
"Are you...are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"
You sound so sweet, it makes his lower belly ache among other things. He stifles a laugh brcause he knows it will only make you feel worse. Something wrong. Something wrong.
"Fuck no, I-sorry I just uh...almost..." He can't bring himself to say it, you guys haven't even been kissing for five whole minutes and here he is about to blow his load. When you realize how close his dark lashes are from kissing his cheeks, how his pupils have almost turned the whole of his irises onyx, you connect the dots.
Woah, you did that to him? That moth in your belly threatens to take flight, and without much thought, your mouth is moving before you can stop it.
"I wanna see."
Those are the only words your brain allows you to spit out. His chest has gone still, and you feel that twitch against your center again. Your thighs have begun to tremble.
"You wanna see...? My cock?" He shouldn't sound so incredulous. You're his girlfriend for christ's sake, but you are important to him. More important than he ever thought anyone could be, and so he has kept his lust at a minimum of 48% when he's around you for the most part. Save for intense makeout sessions.
"Yeah, I wanna...well I wanna know how to make you feel good."
He's worried for a moment that he's having another wet dream, but he's sure this is real life because he feels how warm you are against him and you are so close he can see his own reflection in your eyes. You toy with the shell of his ear and a chill ascends his spine.
"Sweetheart if you touch me m'not gonna last long." His skin is pink and scarlet, and he's gotten at least ten degrees hotter judging by the heat billowing off of the back of his neck. His adams apple bobs when he swallows.
"That's okay, really it is. You have nothing to be embarrassed about....I like it. Like that I make you feel that way. " You rake your fingers through the front of his hair, pushing it away from his pretty face. He checks your eyes again, needing confirmation.
"Are you sure? You don't have to do anything you don't want to." He gnaws on the inside of his plush mouth, tries to calm the animal inside of him that wants to fuck your brains out right now. He almost feels guilty just thinking about it, until you lean over to peck the side of his stubbly chin, fingertips grazing his taut belly.
"Yes, really wanna."
There is a curious, nervous anticipation in the crinkle underneath your eyes.
"Kay' baby, explore all you want." The boyish smirk he gives is enough to have that knee buckling tingling sensation coming back full force as he presents himself to you like this. Does he seem as pulled together and totally not overly nervous as he thinks he does? Probably not.
His arms depart from your body, ribs expanding as he reclines on his palms. Tendons flex and stretch underneath the black bats and fuzzy layer of hair atop his forearm. You swallow, intimidated by the beauty of the boy.
You find the courage to finally move off of his lap so that you can take him all in, and the bulge of his cock swipes the underside of your thigh as you slide off.
You don't know where to touch first. That's a lie, your hands almost instinctively slip underneath the hem of his old shirt, where that dark thatch of hair trails under his belly button. He's soft, so soft it's unreal, he is velvet and delicious scarring and beauty marks. His tummy convulses underneath your hand.
He watches you with complete fixation. You have your bottom lip tucked between your teeth and you don't even realize it, all perched and pretty in front of him. He closes his eyes when you explore his sides, over the planes and arches and past the small stretch marks by his chest.
You can't ignore it anymore, the tent that has formed at his crotch and continues to throb with each passing touch.
The blunt of your nails rake down the soft plaid covering thick thighs, and he takes this sharp breath that has you glancing up at him with heavy eyes.
"So pretty...Eds you're so pretty." You say it ardently, your voice small and weak. An arm reaches down, strong but gentle as he strokes the back of your plush cheek with his ring covered knuckles.
"Can't fucking believe...can't believe you're mine, finally. Shit." He's almost murmuring to himself again, on the verge of cardiac arrest. Maybe he's losing his mind, maybe this is heaven.
Then your palm presses against the thick of his cock where it's bulging out, and his thighs spasm.
"Oh, oh." He's all curses and praises, giving you encouraging glances each time you look up at him to silently ask for guidance. You move your hand up and down what you assume is his shaft, and he keeps his hips from bucking into your touch. He feels thick, and the back of your mouth starts to water.
Without warning you're hooking your fingers into his waistband, and he lifts his hips in compliance so that you can pull them down to his mid thigh. He has no time for nerves anymore. Any fear he previously had about what his dick looks like, or what you'll think of it, is stripped along with his clothing. You're looking at him with too much love for him to be insecure - and that takes him by surprise the most.
At this point his checkered boxers are just in the way, and you take it upon yourself to pull those down too. A thud hits his belly.
And really, you should've known. He's big. Not because he's impossibly long, his size is above average but he's thick - the tip iridescent with precum, the same shade of plum as his lips underneath the slick sheen. He is slightly curved upwards, a prominent vein decorating the underside parallel to his frenulum. It's pretty, just like the rest of him. He's neatly trimmed, which is the most surprising part if you're honest - but nothing about Eddie could ever be displeasing to look at.
Your mouth is parted with this expression of surprise, and Eddie almost can't believe what this is doing for his ego.
"Woah." Is all you say, transfixed when you reach out to grasp the appendage. He hisses through his teeth when your small hand finally grasps it, so fucking warm and so gentle it's almost maddening. You both feel it, the invisible weight that has settled in his small, messy room.
The weight of being alone, together, all night and all of tomorrow afternoon while his uncle Wayne is away on a business trip that is probably more lucrative than what he leads on - but Wayne has never been one to boast or speak about things like that out loud. Says it'll jinx the whole thing.
The feeling hits you first, as you find this foreign courage to lean over and dribble spit over the slit of his cock. He gasps, watching the glob of saliva drip down the front of his dick till it's soaking into the curls at his pubic mound.
"Is this okay?" You already know the answer but you ask anyways, taking more pride than you should at the expression on the pretty metalheads face. He nods his head fervently, unable to respond right away.
You twist your palm, spreading your spit further until his whole head is covered and you're able to stroke him with no resistance.
"Fuuuck, yes. Yeah, that's so good baby." He's panting as you begin to properly jerk the tip of him off, the sounds in the room too lewd for you to handle. A squelchy feeling has developed between your thighs, led by each filthy groan that leaves your boyfriend's throat.
Then you're looking at him through fluttery lashes and a gone expression, with your chest rising and falling almost as rapidly as his and thick fingers grasp your wrist quickly, rougher than anticipated.
"Sorry, just - close."
Seeing his hand blanket yours over his cock is doing something to you. You know his palms like your own, hold them more than you look at your own, and yet right now such a sweet thing has never been more provocative.
"Shh, no more apologizing," you lean over and he meets you in the middle. The kiss is sloppy this time, evidence of the maddening desire taking him over from the inside out.
"Not fair," his voice is strained through your mouths ministrations. "Got me all worked up and you're sitting there neglected." He smiles and his tongue strokes your bottom lip. You shudder as that heat comes in an overwhelming wave.
He's gripping the back of your neck now, properly hungry and your hand continues its ministrations between your bodies, that wet sound prompting a shared groan from the both of you - intensifying the feeling. His nose is scrunched against your cheek from the vigour of his kisses.
"You can undress me."
He doesn't waste time once you've granted him verbal permission, and with an exhale you're being tipped over onto your back, breathing in the weight of him as nimble and eager fingers pull his tee shirt over and off your body.
"Jesus," He whines, and you're captivated by the look on his face. It's impossible not to feel flustered.
"Can I-" you don't let him finish.
"Yes, please touch me." You're just as fucked as he is, arching your chest upwards and into the warm, all encompassing mass of his palm. He stifles a groan, cock bobbing up and down in the space between you two, dribbling with a bead of pre arousal. You feel like you're losing your mind.
Eddie short circuits for about five whole seconds flat, and he can't concentrate. He makes a bee - line to your chest, plush lips sucking your swollen nipples into his mouth. A gasp and a pulse of your poor clit later, and your fingers delve into his curls like they'll keep you here in this moment forever.
He's sloppy, moving between the valley of your breasts to the other one, leaving trails of spit across your flesh.
"Eddie, that - that feels so good, can't - mmph." You're a mess. How are you such a mess? He's a phantom, a head of hair across your sternum until he glances up at you with saliva soaked lips and red cheeks and a sweaty forehead.
"Sweet girl, oh god I can't believe..." All you taste is him, the words being uttered between the space when he forces himself to breathe. "can't believe you're all mine, wanna make you feel so fucking good. Give you anythin' you want."
He lies his full weight on you, and through the thin sleeping shorts you've got on, his cock beckons you with throbs and weeps. You feel drunk off of him, every sense surrounded by Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.
His shampoo from two days ago, the old spice lingering under his arms, the natural scent of his skin, the sweetness of his breath and the perspiration that's formed in little beads on his upper lip. He's all but devouring you, lust and admiration for the angel beneath him taking over any sense of importance regarding anything else.
Your heels dig into the back of his bum, knees pulling inward so that his hips come clashing into yours. Your fingernails claw on the material covering his back, taking it upon themselves to pull it over his head. He's beaming like a kid in a candy store at your eagerness, eyes all crinkly underneath.
"Want me to grab a rubber now?" He mumbles between the sloppy kisses, hoping you can't hear the hitch in his throat at the prospect of this finally happening.
"Mhmm, yes." It feels just as surreal for you.
He whines as he departs, reaching over across your head to pull open his bedside drawer and ungracefully tear open the new box of condoms. His eyebrows are furrowed, arms flexing with intensity from his excitement. He groans out of frustration, and you giggle, grasping his thick forearm.
"Let me help baby." You reach in the drawer for him and pull the box out, finishing the rip he'd made and pulling out a metallic row of squares. You tear one at the perforation and hand it to him, grinning at the entire situation. He huffs and rests his forehead between the valley of your breasts.
"What would I do without you?" He mutters, matching your expression when he lifts his head back up and pushes forward to kiss you on the tip of your nose.
"Not have sex, I suppose." You bite back with no hint of malice, only an insurmountable level of love and he sees it shimmering everywhere around you. His girl. His.
"You're somethin' else, sweetheart." He mouths the side of your face, across your jaw and underneath your ear.
You feel like you're in a psychological limbo, in a world between consciousness as he sits back on his haunches and lifts his shirt off of his body from the back of his collar. That may be a dramatic sentiment to many, but it's fitting.
He does it so casually, throws his shirt to the side with the rest of discarded clothing and stray items that live on his bedroom floor. You feel weak in the knees when he tears the condom package and pulls out the slippery rubber, unraveling it before bringing it down to his cock.
You watch his face the way his pink tongue darts out and nips the tip of his tongue, brows furrowed in concentration and arousal as he fits the condom down his thick shaft. You watch his biceps twist, his taut abdomen clench, the black ink coming alive with the ministrations of his muscles underneath.
When he meets your eyes again, you look completely overtaken with desire, eyelids heavy and breath bated. Your pebbled nipples stand at full attention, mimicking his dick and Eddie hooks his fingers underneath those infuriatingly sexy shorts of yours so that he can get rid of them.
You're not wearing underwear. Of course you aren't. Your entire existence is specifically designed to test the bounds of his composure, of his strength. The gold room lighting from his lamp illuminates your body and your shy thighs only part when he's placing his palms between them, slowly encouraging them to allow him a peek or two.
You reach out to stroke his arms as he separates your legs, his jaw hanging ever so slack, cock twitching just a few centimeters away from your opening.
"Fucking hell...you're so goddamn pretty." He strains, swallowing hard as he touches you with hesitant hands, as if he's scared to break you. Your hips lift, just enough to make contact with the tip of his dick and you whine. It's a sound so sweet he almost whimpers himself.
"Please, Eds. I want you inside of me. Please."
His stomach tightens and he crawls over you once again, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
He maintains eye contact, breath fanning your mouth as he slips an arm between your bodies and grips his shaft, lining it up with your entrance. Your thighs lift towards your chest, ankles stationed at his waist, and you feel the welcome intrusion of his tip as it passes your slick labia.
You both take a breath in, your fingers needing a vice and moving to the back of his neck as he pivots his hips forward and slips himself into the tightness of your cunt. The stretch causes you to hiss, both in pleasure and pain.
"You okay? Let me know if I need to stop." He grunts, kissing your chin.
"M'okay, don't you dare stop."
His eyelids flutter in tandem with yours, a choked moan leaving his throat as he continues to push himself in, till he's nudging against the soft roundness of your cervix and his balls are resting against your ass.
It feels right. Having him this deep, this close.
You shudder nuzzling your face against the bicep that holds him up. You kiss the skin there and he groans, dragging himself back out and then back in. Your whole body jostles with the movement.
"Jesus Christ, how do you feel s'fucking good? I don't - I can't, fuck." He's a slur of words, beginning to form a steady rhythm. Your moans are more like squeaks the faster he goes, increasing the lewd, sticky sounds between your legs that squelch with each drag and pull of his cock.
"Eddie...E-eddie." Your words are hiccuped from the impact, his hair dangling in your face, tickling your cheeks. His belly is pressed right against yours, the curls at the mound of his pelvis pressed against yours. He lets out this pained sound and goes to bury his face in the crook of your neck.
"My name, fuck say it again. Say it again." It's muffled but you can hear it right underneath your ear, his lips a soft vibration against your flesh. You feel so full, it's hard to speak at all. To say anything other than his name. So you recite it like it's the only words you know.
"Eddie Eddie Eddie Eddie." They're all punctuated with a whimper that starts from your diaphragm and crawls it's way out of your throat, pistoned by his hips and their grueling ministrations. Skin against skin can be heard from down the park, you're convinced, with how he's fucking you.
Eddie is fucking you. Your boyfriend, Eddie, is fucking you.
"Ohhhh, god, please." You cry out, heels digging into his back, hands splayed across the broad expanse of his shoulder blades. Every breath that passes his lips is followed by a grunt, a groan, a sound that is so close to agony and even closer to toe curling pleasure.
Each stroke of his cock inside of you feels like a pull into his being, and you get frustrated with the fact that you can't see his face, tugging at the back of his neck.
When you look up at the boy above you, reality, for once, feels like the most beautiful thing you've ever endured.
He's flushed, all sweat and shades of pink and red. His eyes are glassy, mirroring yours in the way that it almost looks like he could shed a tear. You move his sticky bangs from his forehead and Eddie is sucker punched in the gut with a wave of adoration.
"Oh, sweetheart," he leans down, slowing his thrusts so that he can kiss you steadily, purposefully. Somehow he feels deeper this way impossibly so, and he nips your bottom lip when you flutter around him. "didn't mean to...to not show you attention m'sorry, just...you feel so good. S'like heaven."
He's half sober half drunk on your pussy and it's so fucking endearing. Neither of you can make out a coherent sentence.
"Keep - keep going, just like that, ohhh." You glance down between your bodies and somewhere behind your organs a warmth, teetering unbearable, flutters throughout your limbs. His arms shake with the fight to hold himself up, until he doesn't anymore, and slips his hands underneath you till they're sandwiched between the mattress and your back. Snug, safe, he engulfs you.
His thrusts are deep and slow now, meaningful instead of mindless bunny fucking. Which, he's not opposed to, but you're you. He wants to fuck you like he might not ever get the chance to again.
"I love you, I love you." He whimpers against the crook of your shoulder. You hold him with the same ferocity that he's holding you, staring up at the ceiling and the stars that blanket your vision instead of the fan above.
"I love you too, fuck, Eddie."
He makes this noise, it's almost pathetic. Petulant. That coil holding you tight, snaps and all at once you're gasping, thighs a deadly grip around his waist.
"Cu-Cumming, I'm cumming." Your walls flex and spasm around his length and Eddie thinks he might pass out. You're still twitching and whining his name with his balls are emptying, when he's spurting into the condom, nudging your cervix.
"Fuck, fuck just like tha- ohhh fuck." He thrusts like he's fucking his cum into you, like he's filling your womb up and making you his forever. He made you cum. He's never felt this high before, and he's a fucking drug dealer.
It's a mixture of panting and the thud of your shared heartbeat for what feels like eternity and one split second. You feel his lips peppering soft, gentle kisses along your jugular, and your fingers trace lines up and down his warm back as his cock softens inside of you.
He rubs his cheek against you, and your fingers pull his hair away from his pretty face. He's looking at you with so much love you could burst again.
"I love you so much." He speaks tenderly, softly, for once. It's scary and breathtaking all at once. The tip of his nose rubs yours, your smiles a reflection of the other.
"I love you too, Munson."
And you do. You really fucking do.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#joseph quinn#stranger things#stranger things x reader#joseph quinn x reader#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson has my heart
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──★ ˙🍆 ̟ !! casual conversation between friends. 18+!
☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴀsᴋɪɴɢ ʙʟʟᴋ ʙᴏʏs ғᴏʀ ɴᴜᴅᴇs ᴘᴛ. 𝟷
✿ ─ characters: isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, chigiri hyoma, reo mikage
✿ ─ cw: smau!, extremely suggestive/borderline smut, aged-up!characters, college!AU, gn!reader, no pronouns, unestablished relationships/mutual pining, use of foul language, descriptions of genitalia, suggestive themes, you and chigiri are talking about npc college drama, proofread???
✿ ─ notes: honestly the smau aspect was so hard cuz im a perfectionist and wanted read reciets and everything. all the apps for them suck. i managed :))) and i rlly hope you guys like it :)) feedback appreciated. i put chigiri's at the end cuz its so long.
part 2 is here!!!!
ISAGI YOICHI...
your fingers fly across the keyboard to tell him that yes, you were very serious. isagi literally jumps out of bed to go shower and everything. he has been crushing on you since forever and god knows he’s not blowing this chance you’ve given him by sending a shitty picture. you get an image attachment 20 minutes later, yoichi standing in front of his foggy bathroom mirror, the phone in his hand covering half of his face. he’s barely out of the shower, hair dripping wet and towel hanging extremely loose around his hips. his other hand sits at the base of his dick, acting as both a size comparison and a way to draw your attention to it. it’s obviously of decent length as far as you could tell, but the girth. you cant even pretend your mouth doesn’t start watering at the sight.
ITOSHI RIN...
you don’t have time to feel all that bummed about it though, because within a few minutes you’re shocked to get a picture from rin, the camera facing downwards towards his legs. nothing would be all that out of the ordinary if it weren’t the obvious tent in his shorts. the fabric around his crotch looks stretched by his hard dick fighting against the confines of his soccer uniform. it’s not exactly what you asked for, but you can’t find it in you to complain, because it’s way more than you actually expected to get. your mind starts racing. he’s hard from just a few suggestive texts? that means one of two things. either he really is a virgin like you thought he’d be, and the littlest of acts gets him riled up. or he’s just that into you. both of those possibilities sounded like fun. and the idea of those possibilities made you greedy. enough to push your luck.
MIKAGE REO...
two pictures come in quickly and you laugh at the idea of him rushing to take these for you. he sends the first one, taken standing in front of the full length mirror in his boxers, dragging down the waist band of them so you can see the first few inches of his shaft, phone in front of his face. he’s perfectly clean shaven, zooming in closer, maybe he waxes it? you can’t help but be impressed by his attention to detail. it’s so reo that it makes you smile. second one is sitting down in some fancy looking suede armchair, underwear gone, cock in one hand while the other splays over the bottom half of his face, poorly covering the wide self-satisfied smirk. you assumed he set up his phone with a timer considering he wasn’t holding it. as you stare at it, the initial evaluating that everyone does when they receive a dick pic fades away, and you feel heat creep up your face. reo was really hot, and just this once you figured it wouldn’t hurt to tell him you thought so.
CHIGIRI HYOMA...
you get through the stressful minutes waiting for his response by chewing on your nails. maybe you really just fucked it all up. but then, to your surprise, a photo loads in. its hyoma sitting on his bed in front of his mirror, his fingers buried in his hair to push it out of his face in possibly the sexiest way you’ve ever seen. his other hand holds his phone, his pretty face in full view with his gaze locked on the screen. your eyes can’t help but travel down to the only part of your crush you haven’t seen. and boy was it worth the wait. his dick curves up towards his abs and its a lot bigger than you expected. long and a perfectly pink tip. you bite your lip at the thought of it stretching you out, and then feel slightly guilty for thinking of him that way, as if you haven’t done it plenty of times during your so-called dry spell. if the whole soccer thing doesn’t work out, you’re sure he could be a pin up model. or maybe a greek god.
hyoma's got long again ;-; mb,,, but can you blame me??? i want to do a part two with at least nagi and bachira, but idk who else i want to include. open to suggestions ♡
© 2023 hyomaslut. please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content onto any other sites.
#divider credit to @cafekitsune#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#bllk smut#bllk scenarios#bllk imagines#blue lock#mikage reo x y/n#mikage reo x reader#reo mikage#suggestive#isagi yoichi x reader#isagi x reader#isagi x you#rin itoshi x reader#rin itoshi x you#rin itoshi x y/n#rin itoshi smut#smau#texts#chigiri hyoma x reader#chigiri x reader#chigiri x you#blue lock chigiri#miwa sins
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