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jaylaxies · 7 months

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KINKTOBER DAY 29 — THREESOME

PAIRING: jake x fem!reader x jeno

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, facefucking, cunnilingus, breeding, threesome, usage of nicknames, jake and jeno are step brothers (not yours).

WC: 1.2k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! this is purely self indulgent atp, but i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

✎ kinktober masterlist

“Jake, stop! What if he hears us?”

You gasped, asking him to stop, but your fingers only pulled him closer to leave featherlight kisses all over your neck.

“He won’t, trust me,” Jake mumbled, too immersed in kissing down the expanse of your skin to worry about his step brother being home.

The arrangement was new for him. His father had recently remarried, which means his stepbrother had to leave his old life behind and shift (along with his mom) to the new mansion, to Jake’s place.

He didn’t interact with him a lot, the things were awkward and they were both well aware that it would take a while for them to come to terms with the new setting, so they tried to keep it decent by greeting each other whenever they crossed paths.

As for you, it had barely been a week since you and Jake got into the friends with benefits arrangement, having met through a mutual friend at a party last week, which led to a crazy night with him and hence, the new proposition, which finally brings you to Jake’s place.

He was sure that there wasn’t anyone else at home. His parents were out for their honeymoon trip, and his step brother was nowhere to be found when he last checked the place, which was before you arrived.

With his assurance, you let your moans get louder, moving your hips along his thigh, which was flexed to provide the perfect amount of friction to your bare cunt, your skirt ridden up to the waist.

“Feels good?” He asked, accent deep as he pulled you up, throwing you on the bed and getting in between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs to hold you tighter, pulling your ass cheeks apart.

Your mouth was open, eyes rolling back when he licked a big stripe of your cunt, groaning and mumbling about how sweet you tasted each time before prepping featherlight kisses all over your cunt, barely touching your clit to tease you.

When you whined again, he gave in, sucking your clit and running his tongue up and down your folds.

Unbeknownst to you both, there was someone standing right by the door, curious if there was something wrong with Jake, granted the noises coming from his room were muffled till he reached the door.

Jeno didn’t mean to breach his privacy by any means, but he was curious and one look wouldn’t hurt anyone—which was his thinking.

However, he did not expect to see his old fling in the bed with his new step brother, legs wide open as he ate you out.

He cursed. Jeno had missed you too much when you had to leave the city to shift somewhere else, granted that sex with you was literally the best he used to have, but he never thought he’d find you here, especially in his brother’s bed.

His body worked faster than his brain for once as he swung opened the door, grasping their attention.

“Jeno what the fuck?” Jake’s eyes were wide.

He paid Jake no attention, saying your name in a whisper as your expression mirrored Jake, but yours was more of a realization filled one rather than a horrified one.

“Jeno—” you breathed out, your body on display for him.

“You know each other?” Jake asked, glad he still had his clothes on for this interaction.

Jeno didn’t answer, only striding forward to where you were on Jake’s bed, pulling you as you yelped, wasting no time in kissing you. Jake only scoffed, pushing Jeno off you.

“She’s with me,” he said, possessiveness in his tone.

“She’s been with me for years—” Jeno was smirking, and you gasped.

“Guys, you don’t have to fight,” you said, looking at both of them before they turned to look at each other, clicking their tongues.

“Want us both, huh? Still a needy little girl I see,” Jeno mocked, getting rid of his clothes just like Jake.

“Want our cocks together, huh, princess?” Jake asked and you nodded, looking at them with shining eyes, whining to let them know how desperate you were.

“You go first,” Jake said to Jeno without looking at him, while he flipped you around so your head was on his lap, right near to his cock.

You gasped, “suck on it like a good girl,” Jake ordered, pushing his cock in your mouth, your eyes watering at how thick his cock was.

At the very same time, you could feel slender fingers teasing your entrance, thrusting inside your pussy which had you moaning around Jake’s cock, “so wet,” Jeno mumbled, stroking his cock to lubricate it with your juices.

“Fuck,” Jake groaned when you screamed at the stretch of Jeno’s cock, who had his hands wrapped around your waist as he pumped himself in and out of you.

You couldn’t remember if you ever felt this full in your life before, mouth and cunt full of thick cocks had you drooling and clenching uncontrollably, “I missed this tight cunt,” Jeno rasped, pistoning harder.

“You like that, baby?” Jake chuckled, his thumb collecting your tear and taking it to his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.

“Oh, yes she does,” Jeno smirked, spanking your ass, “she’s clenching like crazy, ever so desperate,” his deep voice only led you to your first orgasm, shaking harder when Jake let you breathe, pulling his cock out of your mouth.

“Fuck! She’s dripping,” Jake observed, and Jeno let him take over switching positions so you were laying on your back. He sat down next to you, tapping your cheek to open your lips, pushing his cock in you for you to taste yourself.

Jake didn’t wait either, the thickness making your back arch, brain clouded as deep grunts resonated the room, which felt misty with the scent of your activities.

“That’s it, princess,” Jake cooed, slamming his hips on to yours, faster by each second, your toes curling and eyes closing with overstimulation, even more so when the two boys started playing with your nipples, pinching and twisting them, Jake paying attention to your sensitive clit, rubbing slow circles with the pad of his thumb.

You felt as if you had reached the highest you could ever feel, being fucked dumb, their praises mixed with degradation only sent you to your edge, whiny curses leaving your lips in an incoherent manner.

“Fill her up, she likes it,” Jeno said, his cock twitching in you, and Jake groaned, his own orgasm approaching.

“Of course she likes it, look at her being a needy fucking mess for us,” Jake chuckled.

Both of them couldn’t hold back any longer, and neither could you as Jake emptied his balls deep in your cunt, Jeno doing the same in your mouth, his cum leaking out of your mouth.

You felt yourself blanking out, crying as you squirted all over Jake’s length before falling limp in their arms.

They worked in sync, Jake caressing your back gently as Jeno got you water, and you looked at them with stars in your eyes as you breathed out, directing your words to both of them.

“You own me now.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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notmyneighbor · 15 days

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Scarlet Milk - Doppelganger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Word Count - 5.2k

Rating - Explicit

CW - sexual content, blood drinking

Also available on AO3

fanart by kaworinx

Your eyes flick to the clock mounted on the wall. Your morning shift at the telephone exchange was almost over.

“What number, please?”

You scan the switchboard for the correct sequence, removing and plugging in the jack to connect the call seamlessly. The next number requested is for a different exchange and you transfer the call with barely a delay.

At last it’s time to set the headset down. Your work as a telephone operator is done for the day.

Business in the telephone exchange office had really picked up since the war, and had increased further still after the DDD began their operation to help identify and weed out the invading doppelgangers. It’s the perfect time to work, getting as many hours as you need and stowing away the extra funds for a rainy day.

You ride a bicycle to work since your employer isn’t far from home. A little rougher going in the winter months, but now it was spring, the weather warming up nicely, the budding trees and renewed verdant color in lawns further signs that the seasons were changing.

You’ve barely left the city behind and entered the suburbs before you run into trouble: a sharp object, perhaps a bit of glass or metal, has punctured one of your tires. You slip off the bike seat after coming to a bumpy halt, now forced to walk alongside the bike the rest of the way home. You think there’s a repair kit lurking somewhere in the house, you’re just not entirely sure where.

You spy a milk delivery sitting near the front door of one of the houses you pass, still remaining unclaimed at this late morning hour. A small blue and yellow bird perched on the rim of one of the bottles is startled by your presence and temporarily abandons its assault on the foil lid before it regains its confidence and returns, the beak breaching the barrier so that it can drink the rich cream that has risen to the top. Clever, naughty thing. You’d shoo him away but you know it or one of its brethren will just return anyway. You had to be careful nowadays, leaving something like that unprotected.

You had to be careful nowadays, period.

You spy the milkman’s truck further up the road, the driver near the tailgate, lifting his cap and dragging the back of a pale wrist against his perspiring forehead. The rear of the vehicle is empty, the goods inside all distributed for the day’s route.

Your pace slows as you draw closer, nodding a greeting to the man. You don’t recognize him. Maybe a new hire for the dairy company. The other driver had been getting older. Maybe he’d finally retired. At least, you hoped his sudden absence was for that pleasant reason and not something more sinister relating to the doppels. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” His voice is warm and friendly. You see his eyes focus on the deflated tire, then back up to your face. “Flat tire, huh? Need a lift?”

“Oh, no, I can manage, thank you. I’m nearly there.”

“I’m heading that way. There’s no reason to tax yourself.”

You shake your head. “Really, I’m fine.”

He shrugs. “Alright, then. Get home safe.” You watch as he seals the back doors and returns to the driver’s side, climbing up and settling behind the wheel. You suddenly feel foolish. The man was just trying to be kind, surely. He starts the engine and eases back onto the road slowly, decelerating to a meager crawl to keep pace with you, calling to you through the open window. “Last chance to change your mind.” He smiles. Handsome. He has such an honest face. Weary eyes. The early mornings no doubt leaving those inky shadows on ivory skin. He must be eager to be home now that his job was completed, yet he was still offering to help.

In spite of your earlier caution, you find yourself feeling it would be rude to decline again, and you accept the milkman’s offer. “Alright, thank you. I promise it’s not far and then you can be on your way. I’m sure you want to get home.”

The truck halts, the breaks squeaking slightly. Your bicycle is lifted effortlessly and stowed in the back. There’s no seat inside save for the driver, so you remain standing, bracing yourself against the rear of the cab awkwardly. At least you don’t have far to go.

“Anyone at home to help you with that flat tire?”

“No, I live alone,” you admit, then silently curse yourself. You shouldn’t be volunteering that kind of information, even if it was the truth. Your brother had left you with the inherited house after he’d moved in with his new wife last year, still disappointed that you hadn’t found someone yet, disapproving of your decision to choose to live independently in such strange, dangerous times. Now you’ve just revealed this vulnerable fact to a stranger. A male stranger.

“The birds have been at your deliveries again,” you say, searching for something to fill the sudden silence.

“So I’ve seen. They can’t resist the cream. Interesting story about that. It’s only one particular species, have you noticed?”

“I haven’t, actually.”

“They had no trouble before they started sealing the bottles, but even after the lids were implemented they persisted until they found a way to get inside. Taught the others how to do it, too. Adaptation and evolution are necessary for survival.”

“I suppose you’re right. This is my house here,” you point and the driver slows and stops, parking the truck along the curb and shutting off the engine.

“Let me give you a hand unloading the bicycle.”

“I appreciate it, thank you.”

“No problem.” The milkman stands. Suddenly the cab of the truck feels very small. He’s positioned so that he’s blocking the doorway, making no move to head to the back where your bike is being stored. The smile on your features slides off like melting ice cream on a summer day.

No. He couldn’t be.

Your heart begins to beat rapidly. The smile he offers doesn’t quiet touch his eyes this time.

“Actually, I’ll just um…I can get it. Thank you for the lift.” You try to ease past him, thinking to make your escape through the rear of the vehicle instead, but he slaps out an arm to bar your path, crowding you against the steel frame.

“We’re adapting, too. Evolving constantly. Getting better and better at blending in. Finding new ways to breach your homes and sate our hunger.”

“Please don’t kill me.” As if the doppelganger would have mercy. You feel tears pooling in your eyes. How foolish you had been, walking into his trap. Why hadn’t you trusted your instincts?

“I’m not going to kill you. Not yet, anyway. See, it’s occurred to me to take a page from those birds’ books, so to speak. Sample the sweetest, most nutritious part. And let the rest of the meal live on, thereby providing an endless supply, rather than gorging on one human in a single sitting, then being forced to find another. We’ve already seen what happens when we indulge too voraciously. It’s why we were forced to visit your planet, after all.”

“I don’t…I don’t understand.”

“Your blood. That is what I desire. A sample each time, and then you go about your daily life as usual. A fair deal, isn’t it? Certainly a better offer than most of my kin would give you.”

“You want to…to…” You can even bring yourself to utter it out loud.

“Drink your blood, yes.”

“Like a vampire,” you whisper in horror.

“Something like that.”

“What if I refuse?”

“Then I consume you right here and now.”

Two tears spill over your cheeks. The doppel clucks his tongue. “There’s no need for that. It’s really a very obvious choice. The sooner you agree, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair for the remainder of the day.”

“Is it…is it going to hurt?”

“Not as badly as me tearing you apart with my claws, I assure you.” His features soften, and that impression of how handsome the original man he’s copied must be strikes you again. “This doesnt need to be violent. It will go easier for you if you don’t resist.”

You swallow thickly, trying to summon courage. “How do you know I won’t just call the DDD?”

“Because that would be a very, very foolish thing to do. And I think you are smarter than that, aren’t you?” His nostrils flare slightly and he inhales deeply. “I’m getting hungry. Do you agree to my terms or not?”

“What guarantee do I have that you’re not just going to kill me anyway?”

“None, other than my word.”

You could almost laugh. An invader asking you to trust him. To allow yourself to be fed upon until…when would this conceivably end? “How long will I have to do this for?”

He shrugs. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“Many things. How many others will supplement my diet. How much I decide to take. This will end whenever I say it ends,” he adds in a growl, and you shudder.

You close your eyes. “Alright. Just get it over with.”

“Not here. Wouldn’t want the neighbors to see, now, would we? Hop on down and I’ll deliver your bicycle. Then we can go inside and…have a little snack.”

You wish your neighbors would see your plight, but there’s no one to help you. The elderly man across the street was probably well into his morning nap. The young couple next door both worked. The housewife who lived on the other side was undoubtedly busy with chores, the children at school.

The doppelganger leans your damaged bike against the fence, following you up to the door, waiting for you to unlock it.

So. You really were going to invite him inside after all.

Normally you’d be fixing lunch at this time. Maybe doing some housework yourself. Now you set your keys in the trivet dish by the door and tuck your shoes neatly beside the frame, watching the doppel shut the door behind him.

“Come here.”

You’d taken a couple of steps further into the hallway and his voice makes you jerk to a halt. You warily turn back.

That smile again. Your stomach flips nervously as you move to stand beside him.

He makes a little hum of sound, pleased you’re being obedient and cooperative. Your hair is already pinned up, your throat exposed. Assuming that was where he was going to bite you. The thought makes your breath hitch and you close your eyes again, willing the moment to be over.

You feel the heat of his breath as he leans closer to your neck, hear another deep inhale. His lips graze your skin in the barest whisper of a kiss. His tongue traces a line down the side of your neck and then there is pain, sharp and fast, your body reflexively trying to pull away but his arms fasten around you, clutching your body against his.

“Relax,” he urges you again, his mouth lifting just long enough to issue the command to you before it returns and you feel the suction, the wet heat, that terrible drag of your life force pulled from the vessel beneath the skin. A little moan accompanies that gesture, sending vibrations as the alien savors the taste of you. Your fingers curl in his work shirt as you’re pushed back against the door. If there had been anyone there to see, it would have looked as if you were a young couple in the throes of passion. But there is no one witnessing this act. It is just you and the doppelganger.

“Enough,” he murmurs, his face revealed once more, no longer supping from your throat. You reach for the wound, surprised to find your hands coming away clean. No blood. Just scabbed puncture marks you can palpate with the pads of your fingers.

He’s breathing heavily. It had been hard to stop, maybe, fighting that natural instinct to kill and ravage. The dark eyes are bloodshot, a pair of fangs visible before they’re retracted again, the red haze gradually clearing as he continues staring at you. His appearance returns to that of the milkman he’s impersonating and he finally steps back.

“Tomorrow,” he says, a promise, a threat, before he exits, leaving you trembling, your fingers still cradling your neck. You hear the truck’s engine rumble to life.

Tomorrow.

***

He visits again the following evening.

You don’t know why you’d expected the doppelganger to be at your door at any particular time. Your anxiety has been peaking in anticipation. Dreading the next feeding. Still wondering what’s to stop him from just killing you anyway.

The marks he’d left had been surprisingly tidy. Easy enough to conceal. You’d struggled at work that day, your normally nimble hands and sharp eyes faltering more than once, your performance lacking. Your supervisor certainly noticed. You’d been spoken to. A warning.

Maybe you should take the next day off. Maybe you should…

A knock at the door interrupts your musings and you look up from the novel you’ve been attempting to distract yourself with.

He was here.

The temptation to phone the DDD is there again. But it would take them time to get here. You’d certainly be destroyed for your breach of contract long before the disposal team arrived.

You open the door.

He’s still wearing the milkman’s uniform, although this time he’s shed the cap, revealing the thick wavy brown hair that had been hiding beneath. Wordlessly you step back to make room for him to enter. Your eyes are on the floor now, suddenly shy. You hear the door being closed.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes lift and you gaze at the doppel through your lashes. Surely he could hear how elevated your pulse is. Did that entice him, that rapid flow of crimson liquid?

The mimic moves behind you, one arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you back against him. Fingers guide your head to dip to one side, a gentle nudge before his lips are at your neck again. The same side as before. They press more firmly this time. The stripe he licks reaches all the way to your ear lobe. A whimper escapes you. It feels good, even though it shouldn’t.

The sharp pair of the monster’s cuspids pierce your throat. Another choked sound escapes you, this one a blurred mixture of pain and pleasure. The fingers resting against your abdomen dig in. His other hand is braced against your chin, manipulating your head, keeping you in position while he takes what he desires.

You clutch at the hand on your stomach. You think you’d faint if you didn’t have him at your back. There is something hard pressing against you there, another need digging into the cleft of your buttocks. Arousal. Your cheeks feel hot. There are no longer teeth sunk into your neck but his mouth is still there, laving and caressing the injured flesh. Soft, wet kisses planted. “So sweet,” he breathes against your ear. “Your scarlet milk is the sweetest I’ve ever tasted.”

He departs minutes later and you stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror as you get ready for bed, wondering why you’re not more afraid.

***

The milk delivery truck is parked outside your home when you arrive there the next afternoon.

You lean your mended bike against the picket fence. There are people outside. Someone is raking leaves from last autumn. Children are tossing a ball back and forth. The doppelganger has a bottle of milk in his hand, the tips of his fingers clutching it by the neck. He’s leaning against the outside of the truck.

“Come inside,” you hiss, not trusting him not to make a spectacle right there and then. He smirks at your invitation, following you inside.

There are sunspots in front of your eyes. It was so bright outdoors. The interior of your house is darker, cooler. “You should be more discreet,” you mutter, your hands rubbing together restlessly. Nervous. You’re so nervous.

“No one is paying any attention. They didn’t care when I took the truck. They hand the goods over willingly. It’s made finding other…donors…so simple. Your kind is so oblivious to what’s right in front of them.”

“How many other people are you…?” The idea of the imposter operating as a milkman making deliveries as a guise to shield his true purpose of seeking more sources of that sinister meal he craves twists your stomach in knots. Worried. You’re guilty over what’s happening to your neighbors. Not necessarily your fault, but you knew about it, and you allowed it, participated in it…

“Not many. Discretion is best, we agree on that much.” He tips his head to one side thoughtfully. “Are you jealous?”

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous?”

“Don’t worry. You’re still my favorite treat.”

“I’m not jealous,” you reply defensively, perhaps a little too much vehemence behind the words. Was there some of that mixed in your emotions as well?

“You should let me give you a ride home one of these days,” he murmurs.

You frown, your reverie dissolving. “Why?”

“Because,” he drawls. Not an answer. His upper eyelids drip languidly as he sets the bottle on the kitchen counter. The foil lid is soon demolished into a crumpled ball. He drives a middle finger into the cream gathered at the top of the bottle, scooping out a dollop of the thick substance. “Open your mouth.”

“What?”

“This is the best part, isn’t it? You humans seem to enjoy it. Open,” he commands again, and this time there is a bit of a threat there, the easygoing teasing suddenly disappearing. His eyes darken and your lips part obediently. The digit pierces those borders and drives straight back across your tongue, your eyelashes fluttering, surprised, the brisk invasive movement catching you off guard. Your mouth closes reflexively over the offering and the wedge of muscle presses his finger against the top of your soft palate, the pad brushing past the ridges to find the smoother flesh as he offers you a taste. Your stroke across the joint of his knuckle, then the nail bed as he slowly withdraws back through the tight ring of your mouth, finally emerging with a soft popping sound.

“Good?” The word is croaked out hoarsely. Your heart jackhammers as you nod. You watch as he repeats the gesture in his own mouth, brow furrowing over the taste as he considers the flavor of the cream. “I prefer you instead.”

The doppel’s lips touch your throat. You can’t stop the needy sound that escapes. “I won’t see you for a few days. Need to let your body rest and replenish. You’re of no use to me without the proper nutrition.” He nips your ear lobe. “So I’m going to stay a little longer today. Prolong things. I’m sure you don’t mind.” His hands have found the bottom of your skirt, lifting the hem. There are curtains on the windows but anyone standing close enough outside could look in and see what’s happening. Your cheeks burn with shame, that rush of heat further elevated because some part of you wants this. His fingers snake beneath the waistband of your panties and dip between your legs, swiping through the arousal leaking from you to collect a sample.

He licks them clean. An appreciative hum. “Now this, I really enjoy. Why don’t you hop up here.” You never get the chance because he lifts you first, setting you on the edge of the counter. Your skirt is flipped back impatiently again, your panties dragged roughly down. And you allow it. You allow the manhandling of your clothes, your body, manipulated into balancing precariously on the edge before he pulls a chair from under the kitchen table over and settles into it, his fingernails lightly scratching against your thighs before he parts them and buries his face into your sex.

Your head tips back and you bite your bottom lip as the doppel explores the sensitive pink flesh, enthusiastically swirling his tongue over the folds and your clit before pushing inside you. The hands curled around your thighs are changing, the nails digging in no longer the replicated human’s. The tongue violating your canal seems to lengthen, expanding. You’re afraid to see and yet you want to watch, your fingers burrowing into his hair. Bloodshot eyes, the doppel’s easing through, yellow tinged, pupils now sharp, narrow, a flash of teeth before his mouth shifts impossibly wide, more than a human jaw could ever accommodate, sucking at your clit while still fucking you with his tongue. A monster is ravaging your body and your only thought is MORE. The wedge of muscle curves inside you, tapping in staccato movements against the shallow secluded shelf of hidden pleasure and it sends you over the edge immediately, keening and shaking as he continues sucking and stabbing until you can’t stand it anymore, your legs trying to close, the hand that had been pulling him against your pussy now trying to push him away.

He finally surrenders, mouth parting reluctantly from your sex. You’re on fire, every nerve tingling in your extremities, at your center, where the pulse is strongest. A satisfied grin, a flash of sharp teeth aligned in a row, before the imposter milkman stands, kicking the chair back so hard it knocks over. His fingers sink into your hair and he jerks your head back, grabbing one of your hands and pressing it over the bump in his trousers. You fumble the fly open, dragging his needy erection through the flap of his briefs. It’s large and hot and your hands seem too small, too delicate to stroke that engorged organ properly.

“Milk it. Make me cum.” His lips hover before your own. You wonder why he hasn’t kissed you on the mouth yet. Would those razor slivers of bone slice you to ribbons? The morphed tongue strokes the angle of your jaw. Your hand is working in harsh, jerky movements. Clumsy. You’re panting with fear and desire. You can’t reach his mouth at this angle so your lips find his throat instead, the patch of skin just above the fastened work shirt and knotted bowtie. He growls and bellows as your fingers finally, finally seem to have adapated, smoothing a gush of precum over the sensitive crown. Large as it was, his prick still felt human enough, so perhaps it was the same, or perhaps he still had yet to reveal its true nature. A moan now hummed against your throat, this soft and pleading noise the polar opposite of the menancing sound he’d emitted moments before. Teeth scrape your neck. The veins in his cock bulge against your hand. He’s so swollen, so ready to erupt. Fangs begin to dig into your flesh. Only a pair. He’s shifted appearances again, protecting you somewhat. You wonder how much of a struggle it is to keep it in check, during the height of something like this. The teeth descend further and you feel the suction as he pulls your blood into his mouth just as a hot spill of seed bathes your hand. He leans forward and your free hand reaches back to brace yourself, sending the milk bottle onto its side, mirroring the white flood that now coats your skin. He sucks and it aches and it feels like a second orgasm building inside of you.

At last, at last he draws back, and it is a human’s face you see, with shadow smudged eyes and mussed hair and swollen lips. The urge to kiss him flares anew but he backs away. You’re suddenly aware of the dairy product that’s spread across the counter, sinking into your clothes, spilling over the edge and dripping onto the floor. The doppel rights the chair he’d tipped over earlier. Clothes are straightened into some semblance of order.

You’re normally relieved when he departs. Today you find yourself clutching his sleeve as he reaches for the doorknob. Something has happened between you two, besides the obvious. A new kind of intimacy blossoming, satisfying other, more primal needs. Adapting and evolving like the doppel had said, perhaps.

“I’ll see you soon.” Not tomorrow. He’s already told you that. An anemic blood supply will not satisfy him. You’re more lightheaded than you’re letting on. He’s taken so much already, but you still want to give him more. “Soon,” he repeats. Then he’s gone.

***

In the dream, you’re in your bed, trying to achieve a slumber that won’t come. You toss and turn restlessly. Get a glass of water. Use the restroom. Flip your pillow over to the cooler side. Shift the covers. It’s no use. You can’t sleep.

You’re thinking about the doppelganger.

About that smile, that warm breath and wicked mouth and wet tongue. His body pressing against yours. Tasting you. Cumming in your hand. The vampiric kisses. It should be terrifying, knowing he holds your life in his hands, your fate determined by the whim of an alien creature.

The replicant is back.

You sense him before he even taps on the glass of the French doors that lead from you bedroom into a private garden area in the back yard. You recognize that shape behind the gauzy curtains that shield the glass, flinging back the comforter and sliding out of bed. The cool air wafts over you as you open the door. You’re only wearing a thin nightgown. You shouldn’t be dressed like this in front of him. You shouldn’t be doing any of the things you’ve been doing with him.

His palm settles warm against the side of your neck. His mouth touches yours for the first time.

Heat pools in your sex. He tastes like metal, copper heavy on your tongue. There is the flavor of tart wine and something smokey as your body is pressed down onto the bed. Your fingers siphon through his hair. You can feel his erection again, demanding somewhere near your own groin. His hips cant slightly and you both moan softly.

The hem of your nightgown is slid up the length of your thigh. You can feel the sharp points of the claws that tear your panties from your body, a casual display that leaves you gasping. A faint jingle of a belt moving and the whine of the metal teeth of a zipper parting and then his cock is shoved into your slickened entrance.

The tongue that twines around yours feels foreign now, the doppel revealing more of his true form. Long and thick, like the prick that’s invading your pussy. Your brain in its dream state has no sense of shame. There is nothing but desire, hot and wet. The front of your nightgown is sliced through, the fabric easily parting beneath the sharp claws that have replaced human nails. Your breasts are kneaded as the sound of lewd slapping fills the air, wet noises from your joined mouths, from the cock pounding into your dripping cunt. Had he been hungry? You’d been starving, you realize. Craving this. Undeniably wrong but oh so right.

“Bite me.” In your waking state, you’d never issued such a request. Only in dreams could you be bold enough. Your fingers clutch the nape of his neck, encouraging him as your knees dig into his ribs. You gift him your blood and he gifts you a load of something thicker, creamier, milky shots of cum spurting deep inside of you. There are stars in front of your eyes, fireworks, bursting lights in the darkness. He kisses your mouth and the tang of your own lifeforce is strong there. His teeth are still sharp. He hasn’t changed back. You kiss him again anyway.

***

Your eyes open.

It’s raining. You can hear the soft patter of it against the roofing shingles above. Your heart is hammering wildly. Your entire body is drenched in sweat, your panties soaked with something more carnal. You fling back the sheet and blanket much as you had in the dream, padding barefoot into the adjoining bathroom. You need a shower. You feel soiled.

You wish the events of the dream had really happened.

It’s been five days since you’ve seen the doppelganger. The water of the shower spills over you, pelting you gently. You drag the bar of soap over your body. There is something thick and wet between your legs, the fluids of your arousal a different kind of wetness than the spray of water. Your clit is swollen. You wish for his fingers, his tongue. You circle the raised bundle until your body trembles, until you’re forced to lean against the shower wall for support.

You shut off the faucet and towel yourself dry before pulling on a clean nightgown. You burrow your face into your pillow and think of the mimic’s smile until sleep reclaims you once more.

***

A week has passed. Now you think something must be wrong. The doppelganger’s delayed absence can’t be intentional.

Perhaps the DDD had gotten to him. Someone had seen something, called. Maybe not all his ‘donors’ were quite as willing as yourself. A hot flame builds inside you. You are jealous, after all.

It’s raining on the night he finally returns. Later than he has ever been. The water has soaked his skin, his clothing. There is only the living room lamp on to illuminate your view of the alien creature, looking so pitiful standing there, a drenched figure with tired eyes and dark hair plastered flat against his head, the rainwater spilling over the sharp angles of his cheeks and nose, over the gentle curves of his lips.

He steps inside and closes the door. Your breathing is harsh, rapid. A match for his own. “Where have you been?”

“Did you miss me?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. His voice drags against you skin like velvet. “No.”

“Liar.”

You reach for each other at the same time. Your fingers knot into the saturated fabric of his work shirt while his close over your upper arm, crowding you back against the door. “Where have you been?” You repeat again, your voice gentler this time. “I thought the DDD had gotten to you, I…”

“You were worried about me.”

“Yes,” you admit reluctantly.

“You missed me.”

“Yes.”

His thumb briefly strokes one cheek. “I missed you, too.”

“Why don’t you ever kiss me?”

“I do. Quite a lot, in fact. In many places,” he adds, smirking a little, some of his customary teasing emerging.

“You know what I mean. On the mouth.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Because,” he says, and for a moment you think he won’t answer you properly again, dodging the question, but then he continues, “that means something very, very different.”

“Different how?”

“Do you want me to show you?”

“Yes.”

The doppel’s lips press against yours. Closed at first. Then they divide and your tongue darts between them, granting you your first taste of the invader. Nothing like the dream. No bitterness or metal or sour flavor. No smoke or ash. Just clean, pure, natural.

“Do you understand now?” His gaze traps yours. Human pupils dilating. You know what really lurks beneath. You like both.

“No. Show me again.”

A faint smirk. Then the doppelganger’s mouth captures yours once more.

#francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman x reader #milkman x you #francis mosses #milkman #thats not my neighbor #the milkman #that’s not my neighbor #doppelganger #doppel francis #tnmn smut #tnmn francis mosses #francis tnmn #tnmn milkman #tnmn fanfic

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pickingupmymercedes · 2 months

Text

She's here and she's ours - Lewis Hamilton

Pure fluff.

Sequel She's here and she's not only ours (+1k)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +1k

a/n: I'm 100% sure Lewis is gonna be a girl dad, like there's no other option in my mind. Also, I might make this a series of firsts with his kids, maybe 🙃

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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First-borns took longer to come, you’d been told that much, but 26 hours of active labor seemed like a bad joke.

The due date had been almost a week prior, which meant she had to be induced, but at the end of it all a perfectly healthy, and tad bit big, 20.7 inches and 7.3 pounds baby girl had made her arrival in the early hours of a cold, but sunny, Wednesday.

The three days stay at the hospital also meant all of your and his family had had more than enough time to get to Monaco still in time to chat, have lunch and joke around with you, contractions only ever getting really strong the night before your water finally broke. At a time your perfectly thought-out labor plan had already been torn to pieces.

She was meant to be born in the water, that’s how you and Lewis had dreamt of for months, but being as stubborn as both of you were she didn’t turn and a breach meant being ready for an emergency c-section, if needed. It also meant an epidural would be more than likely required, something you fought your hardest against but eventually agreed to after a couple hours with labor going quicker with the water broken. At the end you still managed to have her naturally, with a second degree tear nonetheless.

But the tiredness, your back killing you, the heartburn, the swollen feet and the pain, none of it took center stage in your mind as you watched your daughter, as weird as that word sounded, falling asleep in her father’s chest.

As soon as she had had her first feed in your breast the nurse asked if skin on skin with the father was something you both would like to happen. His eyes, who had been gleaming with pride since the second the doctor announce she was girl, watered as the nurse handed the infant to a shirtless Lewis, seated at your side in the sofa by the window.

She squirmed a bit as her small body tried to find comfort against his muscular chest, one of his hands almost big enough to hold her entire body while the other supported her neck and head. And as if in a movie, as soon as he spoke, her body relaxed and she contently sighted with the sound she had spent the last months hearing from inside you, a voice almost as constant as yours to her.

“She’s here, babe, and she’s all ours.” You couldn’t really tell if he was telling you or himself that, his eyes wouldn’t leave the infant in his arms and his movements were careful and kept to a minimal

“How you feeling dad?” Your voice breaking the spell he seemed to be under, his eyes shining with love for his family, the one he finally had.

“Amazed, hopeful, scared… in love” He almost whispered after thinking for a bit.

It was Lewis first year with Ferrari, all the excitement and buzz from the move were gone and real life had set in. Redbull were still dominating the grid, Ferrari a bit closer than the previous year, with both driver even managing to snatch a vitory each, but still the focus was now on the new regs for the 2026 car.

The mandatory summer shutdown was the perfect opportunity to destress for at least a week before the chaos started back again and Lewis made sure the ever-shorter time he had for a vacation would be perfectly spent with family and friends alike, somewhere in the sunny Mediterranean ocean.

It was on a hot and clear night that summer that your lives began to really change.

His step mom was talking about how hard it’d become to gain a few pounds of lean mass after menopause had hit, a curiously shy Willow asking her mom what menopause was and getting the period talk on the side while you mentally panicked that your period had been due for at least about 2 weeks, something you completely put to the back of your mind with the craziness of summer shutdown preparations.

You were on birth control, but still it could happen, you both knew that and had agreed on no condoms. Later that night, while Lewis got a late workout in and everyone else went to bed, you franticly looked for the package at the bottom of your suitcase, hoping the damn thing was still there.

Almost twenty minutes later Lewis found you on the bed staring at the night sea, lost in thoughts, shaking and so in over your head it took him at least 10 minutes to comprehend your rumbles about the test, still untouched at the adjoining suite sink, the line that read “pregnant 5-6 weeks” screaming back at you both.

To say the pregnancy took sometime getting used to was a light hearted way to say you went through hell mentally and physically. But still, the moment that tiny creature first kicked you after hearing her father’s voice melted any sign of a doubt left.

You were not only gifting Lewis his most treasured wish, you were gifting yourself a perfect symbol of the respect, companionship and love you two shared. A tiny human you and him got to raise and protect until she went out into the world and left her mark.

As everyone else came into the room to finally meet the newest Hamilton, Lewis’ moment with his newborn was interrupted by his mom getting to hold her newest grandkid, followed closely by his sisters, brother, niece and nephew crowding the sofa he sat just a few moments before.

“Thank you, babe, truly. I don’t even know how to tell you how grateful I am.” His lips kissing your hair from the top of your bed, eyes attentively watching as your girl got passed around.

“We’ll have at least 18 more years with her, you’ll have time.” You looked up at him to get his toothy smile just as your family walked into the room to complete the party.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk

If you'd like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #formula 1 #f1 imagine

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usedtobecooler · 1 year

Note

Virgin Eddie prompt: giving him head and sucking his balls for the first time, no one has ever done it before and he’s just shocked pikachu meme and nearly blows his fuckin load immediately

no thoughts head empty just this prompt

Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), blowjobs, ball worship, ball sucking, deepthroating, gagging, gentle bullying, goth!reader, tongue piercings.

Word Count | 1.1k

A/N | i am so sorry this has sat half completed in my drafts for weeks because i'm trash!! i hope you enjoy it and it was worth the wait <3!!!

If somebody were to ask Eddie Munson how he spent his usually mundane Tuesday evening, the last thing they'd expect him to reply with would be "Getting blown by the sexy goth chick from the local corner store in the back of my van." And yet, that's exactly what was happening.

You had thought he was cute for a while, ever since you'd first set eyes on him when he moseyed into the store one day with a gaggle of fifteen year olds looking to buy a pack of Marlboros.

"And you're sure that you're not gonna leave this store in two seconds and sell each of these for a dollar to these kids?" You'd asked, dangling the pack between your fingers, clicking your tongue and tsking at him.

Eddie had balked, stuttering over his words as he watched the glint of the silver ball peeking as you rolled your tongue in your mouth, cock kicking up at the sight of you smirking at him, "N-no, ma'am. They're - they're good kids."

He'd walked off flustered, and you'd given yourself a pat on the back well done. What you didn't expect was to see him at least every second day for the following two weeks, until you finally plucked up the nerve to corner him after closing and force your way into his van with him.

"Sh-shit," Eddie's whining, hands grasping for purchase in the material of his threadbare blanket that was laid out underneath you both as you suck him down into your throat wetly.

You weren't cocky by any means, but you knew how to suck a dick.

Your throat widens to allow Eddie's cock to breach, a slight gag trying to make its way up but you shove it down, adamant you're going to blow this silly boy's mind and show him just how good you could be. His cock is big, you'll give him that - thick and girthy, unlike any other you'd seen before, never mind willingly put in your mouth.

The cool silver of your tongue bar glides along the underside of Eddie's cock as you bob your head up and down, catching and dragging on a vein as you suck and lap at the flushed, salty skin, relishing in the choked off, wet sobs you're eliciting from Eddie's pretty mouth in return. Your lips meet your fist wrapped around his base, jerking him into your mouth until a dribble of precum slides down your throat.

"Jesus Christ, oh god," Eddie's crying out, he can hardly look at you other than to flit a glance down every so often then throw his head back again, unable to watch as your eyes water and your mouth widens around him. You chance at taking your other hand away from his thigh, ghosting your fingertips along his balls, and he bucks up into your throat, gagging you in the process.

Your throat closes, tightening around the head of Eddie's cock and he does it again, fucking his hips up into your face until you're unravelling your hand from the base and shoving his hips down, his cock sliding out of your mouth as you gasp for air, "Naughty boy," you tsk, meeting his apologetic gaze.

Eddie is clearly inexperienced, you question if he'd ever even had his dick touched by anything other than his own right hand or a pillow, and suddenly the urge to want this to truly blow his mind overcomes your entire body.

You slide down further, until your mouth is level with his balls, hands heavy on his inner thighs and spreading them a bit wider. You don't think you'd ever called genitals pretty before, but the soft hang of Eddie's balls, his thick, pink cock slapping heavily on his belly, genuinely is a pretty sight. You can't help yourself, tongue snaking out to lick at the seam of his sack.

“Oh fuck, oh shit,” Eddie’s hips buck up off of the floor, hand running through your hair as you nuzzle into his heavy sack, tongue licking a flat stripe before you’re sucking one into your mouth, the cool ball of your piercing sending him reeling, moans echoing into the room, “your mouth is fu-fucking sinful, goddamn.”

You hum with your mouth full of his balls, hand wrapping around his cock and jacking it hard and fast - twisting at the head, swiping a thumb over the slit as you suck and spit on his sack. Eddie's legs begin to shake, a telltale sign this is about to come to an end, and you find yourself grinning against him.

Eddie hazards a glance down at you, his flushed, leaking cock sliding in and out of the grasp of your wet fist, your plump lips swollen around his balls, your tits jiggling and spilling out of the neck of your shirt and he's gone;

"I'm gonna - shitshitshit," Eddie fists a hand in your hair and you moan, vibration bouncing off of his skin, balls drawing up in your mouth as he comes, hot and hard all down your fist, some of it shooting so far it lands in thick ropes on his shirt.

You jack him through it slowly, his spent ballsack slipping from your mouth until he's jerking away from you because of overstimulation, whining and pushing you by the shoulder gently.

You gaze up at him from between his thighs, aware that your eyeliner is probably smeared down your face from the tears, red lipstick staining your chin, drool pooling down your neck and between the crevice of your tits, "Was that okay, pretty boy?"

Eddie splutters, unable to look at you properly for fear his cock would kick up in interest yet again, giving away just how ridiculously inexperienced he was, "Yeah, yeah. It was good - great, even!" He's hasty with his words, trying not to upset you with a lackluster reply.

"Not too bad for your first time, right?" You smirk as you pull yourself up onto your knees, patting his bare thigh. Eddie's eyes widen, finally looking at you properly and he looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up - you were right, had hit the nail on the head with your assumption, "It's okay, Eddie. I like the inexperience, means I can show you a few things. Same time tomorrow?"

Eddie's cheeks flush dark when you wink at him, making to stand up and unlock the door of the van. You jump out gracefully, slamming the door shut loud enough that it echoes into the cool night air.

And when Eddie appears at dead on closing time the next night, you can't say you're surprised to see him, a cheeky smile gracing your features as you lock eyes.

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #my fanfic #mine #smut

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florasvenus · 5 months

Text

My Sweet Little Demon

Pairing : So’Lek x Na’vi (Avatar) Female!Reader

Warnings : Smut, Sexual/ Explicit Contents, Slight Fluff, Posessive attitude, So’lek and reader in Love, p in v Slight agressive behaviour, swearing and that should be it.

A/ N : Hello Everyone! I hope you’ll like this story. I originally come from AO3. Mostly surfing on there, but I decided to take a look here and found the vibe pretty nice. I decided to write this So’lek fic because I obviously got obsessed with him and I guess not having the game contributed to it even more for some reason? Plus I am very obsessed with Neteyam too as I just watched the movie again, so it all restarted lol. I hope I'll be forming a nice community here. For now this will be it. Smooch 💕💙

Index : Tawtute = Human/ SkyPerson | Nga yawne lu oer = I love you

Nga yawne lu oer...

Nga yawne lu oer~

You pronounce together, looking profoundly in eachothers irises. Each of them a pure yellow color. Dark pupils dancing in the golden sky. So’lek kisses with lust the slight swell of your stomach, slowling traiking up to suck on one of your hardened nipples. He quits it with a small pop, the humid glaze of left on it making them more enticing than they already were. He sits up on his heels, after your long make out session. As he leans back, his erected cock bobs and twitches in anticipation. Without any shame you glide the flat of your hand over his torso, down his abs until you grab his throbbing dick showing a delightful bead of pre-cum. You slowly caress him and he lets his head fall back, locks danfling down, waving down at his round ass contracting in need. With a swallow he recovers and adjust himself, ready to enter your beautiful flower.

So’lek pierces the breach of your dripping entrance with a low growl. Gritting his teeth to the point of grinding, he lets out a jerky breath at the sight of his pretty tawtute spread out for him beneath his thick, masculine frame. He tightens his grip around your thighs, whitening his knuckles even more, and spreads your legs with surprising grace, considering everything about him radiates strength, endurance and certainly not softness. He looks at you with hooded eyes and a snarl is blown to your nose, contrasting the care he's been laying on you since you both started to make out in the lushious Pandoran greens.

You’d been such a brat. Such a fucking bitch, with your human lips, pouring endless words of nonsense. Such a tawtute manner, he thinks bitterly, though he couldn’t contain how much he loved this about you. And this was one of the reasons he fell in love with you. Your vivid mind never ceased to impress himself, as he always believed humans had a weak and poor thinking brain. But this was not true for you. You were able of so much introspection and impressive deductions that you couldn't stop yourself from talking during the whole day, yet with wisdom. You had this way of speaking every thought. As beautiful as it was, it could seriously piss him off after a long day amongst the clan warriors. And today was one of these, were the strenght of his nerves weren't enough to mirror your sense of verbal connection, but just enough to pound the attitude out of you.

Sky Demon oh so delicate and gracious, that it was able to break the stiff wall of his long lasting beliefs. Sky Demon, oh so pure hearted, made him fucking feel what love was and felt the ground crumble under his feet since the day he met you. Sky Demon, oh so sincere and kind, able to knock the most harsh feelings he always felt towards any of your kind out of his lungs. And Sky Demon, so unbelievably true to herself, made him drool at the curious idea of how such a being could ressemble to one of his kind. You truly were the person proving him wrong on the fact that it wasn't your source, your race nor your home that should make you an enemy. But it was the hearts of those rejecting Eywas truth that had to be feared and chased.

As you were learning him to see the world through a different way and less darkened eyes without changing his aspects. He himself, showed you how much you deserved to be loved, even how far down you fell and how unalive you used to feel. Originally from earth, you arrived on Pandora by the mission to seek out new ways of life. Finding a way to save humanity without any harm. You then were attributed to your own avatar. Everything was fine until, the higher people, controlling the plan, lost their mind and you decided to flee into the forest and then you met So’lek. Luckily you had found a way to transfer your soul for good in your blue grand form and said goodbye to your human form without any regret, as you never felt any glimmer living this life of human roots. This amplified by the days you had the chance to live amongst them, as the tsahik saw something true and pure in your soul.

Back on earth, the world is destroyed and getting the chance to leave for Pandora, was like the four petal clove found in the endless pain field. A gift from the universe you never awaited and in distress needed. You smile everyday at this chaotic story and at how it somehow worked and shaped into the most beautiful story to share, with quite the amusing anecdotes. Like you loved to and it was utmost crazy to see that maybe yes. The universe always had a plan for you, by the way such uncompatible puzzle pieces still locked into place together. Or by the way two completely different souls managed to pull together easely. In the end, the only language is still love. And it will be the hymn of the universe forever.

His warm calloused and soothing palms craddle the little fat of your legs, calming your racing heart as he tries to penetrate deeper and deeper into your intimate warmth. Your labias spread evenly as his dick slides in you with difficulty. You two weren't having intercourses for long so it was only normal as you in addition were very tight to begin with. You're so damn tight, he thinks. But he regrets his thoughts, feeling how good your walls kiss the skin of his member. So tight, that he could even feel the rythmic beat of his heart down there. Deep pulse gaining speed with each second passed and as the most carnal needs grow. He sighs erotically, stopping his way inside for a second and taking his time admiring you. Everything in you radiates light and Love and he now couldn't even dare to imagine living without you. When he first met you, he had this irrepressible urge to cut of off your devil hands. Five fingers, the art of destruction, but today as knowing who you were inside, he only wants them to be feeled on evey inch of his skin.

Reaching down to hold one of your hands up, he put your small finger into his hot mouth, sucking on it hard while humming unintelligible sounds. Praising this part of you today was something important. Maybe was it out of guilt, but it wasn't something to ignore at how it just fueled desire powerfully by just a small actions as simple as this. The way it delivered trust and love around the air, was a drunk dizzying feeling. But you both loved to feel succumbed under such circumstances.

You look up in awe, squirming at his bold chest glistening with sweat and at the way his pecs contract with each fast inhale. As you move you can feel the resistance in your core, jolting at the way it sends electricity to your heart and you mewl at the way his warm tongue swirls around your slender petite finger. The rough surface of his tongue momentarely stops as you clench down on him, only to fully decontract yourself and finally letting his way easely in. Exactly how he planned to. You were so putty under his touch and he loved this. Loved to feel so masculine and viril in such a tender and yet feminine moment.

You moan, body wriggling at the size of his member resuming his ascencion down your belly, slowly forming a bulge without struggle. Given his posture, it's never been strange that he'd come away with such a large, long size and length. But as always, theory surpasses reality. And right now, it's the practitioner who's got the upper hand. An expert in the art, So’lek revels in your face as it contracts in innocent pleasure, and despite your pain, the oh so delectable stretch of his greatness evokes a sensation of intense well-being.

His voice breaks the silence only punctuated by heavy breaths. Pronounced accent and long vocal chords, and so on low growl, expressing their intention.

Look at you.... My beautiful Tawtute~ So ready and wet for me... He breathes in emotion with a smile while whispering just below your ear, his hot breath fanning over your sweet spot, before lapping at it like a starving man. You shiver, cold spikes travelling down your spine in an addicting way. Mouth long release of its favorite finger, he still caresses it with his own and pins it down just over your head, vanishing into the dark chocolate hair of yours splayed into the humid ground into a captivating canvas.

He enters slowly, letting your body adjust bit by bit. The vein of his dick slides through the membrane of your throbbing hole until it is stopped by the bump of your cervix. You moan in unison, ragged breaths escaping your luscious lips, coated with a thin film of saliva. Your eyes roll back into your skull, your mouth falling open as he maintains a steady rhythm. So'lek slides out of you, then gently in, testing the waters again and again. But as soon as your walls get wetter and the desired slick accumulates at the base of his stiffness, he begins a merciless rhythm that frees never heard harsh sounds from your mouth, vibrating on your tongue rarely, with each thrusts.

He lifts your hips, embracing the bulge of your bottom, and the new angle forces a long, desperate whimper out of him. The whole scene would have been obscene, between the dry tumults of his pubic bone slapping the soft down of your pussy and the grumbles escaping So’leks throat, it’s more than a mystery. Only you can bring him to do that. Be so free of his emotional restrains and that's what makes this moment so profound. And this is exactly what makes him angry too. Fortunately, you're hidden in a rocky alcove near a river that blocks out any auditory vibrations. And the headwaters of the waterfall muffle the voluminous muses of your companion, lost in an almost animal trance.

Your arms are now limp, framing your lulling face, enamoured with an expression of aggressively delicious pleasure. Your cheeks blaze with a new colour, a bright red, growing in intensity as the knot in the pit of your stomach becomes more and more oh so fucking good tensed. Noxiously more.

So’lek rises to his knees, lifting his bottom up, this new position much more within reach of an intoxicating act. Sinking deeper into the sweet warmth that has become a necessity at this stage of your shared passions, you can feel your body bounce with each stroke. Only your bobbing shoulder blades are connected to the sacred humid soil. Only witness next to the curious lifting leaves.

This goes on for minutes until the familiar sensation of orgasm approaches. Your face contorts in shock, letting out a melodious gasp as it arrives, and in a desperate gesture you reach out your arms, searching in vain for something to cling on, your eyes closed. Your upper limbs fall back onto the sumptuous floral carpet with a flat thud, convulsing with pleasure as the overstimulated nerves finally relax with a well-placed dip. Your first orgasm is like a firework exploding on your erect bud. Your second cuts you off from all air, arriving like an uncontrolled tsunami, and the last. Oh, the last one. You see it coming, but as it shoots its first gusts into the centre, it develops into a veritable firestorm. Burns your being up to the depths of your core, embrace you to the tips of your toes.

You see white as the last exhilarating breeze fades and you whine at the overstimulation. So’lek is still chasing his climax, frustrating shouts echoing off the stone walls that clatter in the suffocating atmosphere. All his muscles tense, his cock throbs and his balls contract unbelievably close to his crotch. He gives it all until the pulsation of his member points its knowing pump and in one last stroke he glues your two pelvises flush together and empties his seed directly into your womb, staying there.

You both semi-giggle in a transe, lost in your sensations. You feel his warm seed fill you to the brim, finally able to take a complete breath, whilst he lets his head fall down, groaning at the amazing way to claim you, that his to fuck you dumb until his cum paints your leaking walls.

Missions accomplished. You are exhausted, eyes fluttering in a way to try and keep them open. Long lashes shadowing the little of sight you are able to get. Wanting to watch the beauty of this man after he'd use you and worshipped you whole. Soul to Mind, to Body, to Spirit, to every inch of Life living inside of you. This always leads him in a charming sweet way to be and there is no way you'd miss it. To bad, turns out he fucked you too good. Now you can't even open your eyes the way you should...

You awake the second he pulls out though and exhale an annnoyed complain. He chuckles as he heavily lays down next to you, wrapping his big arms around your sweating body, trailing them along your curves and enjoying the after care time. So’lek loves to relish in the smell and sensitive skin of yours. Damp and buttery from the effort, your scent is stronger making the world around him satisfyingly disappear even more.

You sigh, happy to have him near you for once. It isn't often you get the time to succumb to your wants and it feels good when you can. You nuzzle your cheek against his, shiny orbs waiting for his owns to connect with. And when they do, your heart swells with love. So’lek can be seemed as a brute and careless man for the simple by walkers, as he is very dominant looking. But in truth he's the teddiest of all Teddy Bears. He smiles, showing off his sharp fangs, and cups your jaw with attention.

He prepars to lean in and kiss you, but the movement of your lips stop him. Look at you... My beautiful Na’vi~ You reflect his previous words with playfulness, ears flicking and fluttering. So ready and wet for me... You joke by reusing his words, looking down at his blue and oh so tempting lips. With a groan, he looks up unimpressed. You just can't stop youself and talk nonsense, do you, he thinks. He smiles at the thought, though he would never admit, that it is you, with you never ending blabber, that got him out of solitude.

You let him lean in and as he devours your mouth again, holding your neck, he lingers there until both of you are out of air for a second time.

Now. If you want to be this bratty again... He pauses and grins. What if I show the consequences of it? Again~

You cup his growing naked bulge and smirk. He gasps, amazed at how you caught his words and the implying behind them so rapidly.

Oh... I would love to. My beloved Teddy Bear~

©️ FlorasVenus

#avatar the way of water #avatar fics #avatar frontiers of pandora #avatar x reader #avatar smut #avatar #solek #so'lek #so'lek smut #avatar wow #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam sully smut #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam smut #so'lek x reader #so'lek x you #so'lek frontiers of pandora

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minnaci · 8 months

Text

🔮 LESSONS IN CONTROL

contents: ascended!astarion x gn!reader (tav), dubcon, hand-wavey mind control magic, heavy possessiveness, master/pet titles used, canon-typical objectification and condescension of tav/self-insert by ascended astarion, reader is needy and also smitten, fingering, penetrative sex (reader receiving in unspecified hole), praise kink, lovey dovey sex depending on ur interpretation of whether or not astarion genuinely loves tav/self-insert (if it helps, i wrote it with the mindset that he does love you)

a/n: wahoo!! second week let's go! please accept my first bg3 / astarion fic <3 he's so... so... i wanna kis his FACE!! as always, rbs & comments are appreciated!

you will never tire of the way that astarion looks at you, even now. there’s a covetous kind of adoration that shines in his eyes, a sort of smug, devoted possessiveness that makes your skin ache to be touched by him.

“there’s my little treat,” he purrs, welcoming you into his lap. his hands come up to rest on your hips, where they belong. “my sweet, darling pet… whatever is the matter?”

“i miss you.” you press up against him, petulant in the way you know he loves to indulge. “will you come to bed with me?”

“oh? surely, i have not been neglectful.” he doesn’t kiss you as much as he possesses you, licking into your mouth with a single-minded desire that makes your head spin. “after all, it was only last night that i took you until you could barely breathe from the pleasure.”

“but i could never have enough of you,” you say, punctuating your words with sweet kisses. “i’m addicted to you, master. i can’t help myself. whenever you’re not touching me, i ache for you.”

“needy,” he clicks his tongue. the taste of his condescension is sweet on your tongue. it drips over your skin, sticky and golden as honey. this is what you live for— this love, this obsession, this subjugation. “but far be it for me to deny you. where it is it that you ache, my dearest? is it… here?”

he dips his head, leaving a trail of warm, sloppy kisses down your neck, over your collarbones, down to your chest. the subtle point of a fang grazes against your nipple, and you gasp as his lips follow, suckling at your chest. neither of you have been warm-blooded or warm-bodied in centuries, but heat still shoots through your body at the way his mouth feels against your skin.

“l-lower, master— i need you, i—”

“lower?” his fingers trail down your stomach, slipping between your legs and rubbing at your leaking hole with well-practised grace. “here?”

“please, please stop teasing, master,” the words pour from you, a font of desperation. his presence is overwhelming in the best way. your chest heaves as you try to contain the abject desire that threatens to burst from your heart. “inside. i need you inside. please.”

his smile is a knife’s blade across his face— sharp, swift, satisfied. “how is it that you only grow more perfect for me with each and every day?”

if you were in your right mind, you might answer: of course you’re perfect for him. he’s molded you to fit his desires, rewarded you with pleasure beyond your wildest dreams in exchange for your submission. his love, his control— they’re one and the same.

love as subjugation. love so strong it rips you at the seams, remodels you in astarion’s image. this is what you crave. this is everything to you—

your mind goes blank as his finger breaches your hole. you’d prepared yourself for him— of course you had— and both you and your master reap the fruits of your labor. he makes a soft, pleased sound in the back of his throat, feeling how pliant you are, how warm you are, and even the barest hint of his approval makes your head spin with heady bliss.

his fingers stretch you out, stroking along your sensitive walls and easily finding your favorite spots. you let out a soft, shuddery sigh, melting into astarion's shoulder as he fingers you open. he coos and curls his fingers just so— a reward for your easy submission.

ever since his ascension, astarion has changed— this much is undeniably true. what hasn't changed, though, is his uncanny ability to play your body like the finest of instruments. if he hadn't trained your hole so well, perhaps you'd be satisfied to sit on his fingers forever, drooling your brains out on the fine fabric of his regalia. as it is, your body hungers for more.

a wordless whine escapes your lips.

“i know, my sweet. i’ve been so mean, haven’t i? i said i would stop teasing, yet here you are, so horribly teased.” he gives you a few more indulgent thrusts, taking his time to enjoy every shudder and shiver he pulls from your willing body. “and you’ve been so patient, too. so perfect.”

he pulls his fingers from your body, making a deep, satisfied noise at the way your walls cling to him, as if loathe to let him go. you mourn the loss, soul singing a requiem. every moment that he is not inside of you is suffering.

“shh, i know. i know,” he hushes you, soothes you, gently caressing your skin. “let me make it up to you, my love. what does your little heart desire? just speak the words, and i shall give it to you.”

a reward. your master is gracious, kind, and perfect. even being in his presence is reward enough. but, if he truly wants to reward you… there is only one thing you crave. there is only one thing you have ever craved, and you know he craves it, too.

“control me, master,” you plead. “compel me. please. i want you to.”

“however could i say no?” something sweet and distinctly desirous shines in his eyes, and he captures your lips in a deep, drugging kiss. his control envelops you, familiar and warm as the olympian hearth. when he pulls back, you remain connected to him by a thin, shimmering strand of saliva, and by the twin sparks of lust that burn in your bellies. "my treasure."

his will wraps around you, diffuses through your limbs, and your mind quiets. there's nothing quite like this— this bliss, this pleasure. it makes you feel so, so good, just to submit, just to obey.

you feel his commands nudging at your mind, puppeting your body. saccharine devotion rises up within you, and you shudder with delight. so this is the game tonight— he wants you needy, wants you adoring, wants you fawning over his every move.

you'd give it to him even if you weren't under his thrall. such is the unconditional nature of your love. if he became a twisted, soulless version of himself, you would twist yourself to match him, and you'd pour enough soul into him to sustain him too.

"love me," he murmurs against the shell of your ear. "give me everything of you, and love me."

“yes,” you breathe, desperate supplication to the only god you know. if your master’s control had been any less potent, you would believe that you were acting of your own accord. but… this is good, too. just because he’s drawn the words from your lips doesn’t make them any less genuine. “i love you, astarion.”

“there’s my perfect little pet,” he says. something flashes across his face— something you don’t recognize, something that hints at regret. the urge to kiss the sadness from his expression is familiar, and not completely contrived. “i love you, too.”

his hands find your hips, and he finally, finally sinks inside of you. your eyes flutter shut, intent on luxuriating in this pleasure to the fullest. there is no greater joy than when astarion is inside of you, filling you, making you his. there is no greater glory than serving your master.

“astarion,” your breath catches in your throat as he rolls his hips up. his cock drags deliciously against your sensitive walls. he stimulates you mercilessly, making sure to pay attention to all of the spots that make you go weak and dizzy and pliable. you cling to him, melting against his shoulder as he thrusts up again and again and again. “i— i’m— astarion!”

“i’m here, little love,” he purrs. “it feels good, doesn’t it?”

“so good,” you say. it comes out as a soft little sob. “i— you— wait, astarion, i— oh!”

he shifts your weight in his lap, and the slightest change in angle lets him slip just a bit deeper. the tip of his cock kisses a painfully sensitive spot deep inside, and your eyes widen, shock quickly giving way to pleasure. he’s so deep. you’re so full.

“there it is,” he coos. “that’s right. look at you, taking me nice and deep. i can practically taste it, you know. how good you’re feeling.”

your body is his. he owns it. he controls it. the barest hint of a command nudges at the corner of your mind, and you let go of the lingering pain. your gaze goes unfocused, and your jaw slackens. you have never believed in an eternal paradise, but if you did, you think it might feel something like this.

“that’s it. you’re really feeling it now, aren’t you? just keep feeling good for me, darling.”

you slip in and out of lucidity, after that. your body is a livewire of sensations, melting under astarion’s gentle, sensual caresses. nothing matters besides him. it doesn’t even matter if you cum, though you’re sure you do. astarion would never let you feel anything but pleasure. he would never let you go unsatisfied. you love him, after all. this tender dance of flesh and bliss is what lovers do.

re-emerging into reality is like breaking through the fog of a lovely dream. you come to with your cheek resting against his chest, body clean and dry and delightfully sated. though you know he hasn’t had a pulse for several hundred years, you swear you hear the gentle thud of his heart beating as he traces absentminded patterns over your skin.

“did i love you well?”

“you were perfect.” a soft smile pulls at his lips. warmth floods your chest, followed by a pang of… of something. something aching, something hurt. you brush it aside. there is no room for hurt in his arms. you have loved him well. you have pleased him.

“thank you,” you murmur, a tender prayer against his skin. the last of his influence drains from your limbs, and you’re once again in full control of your own mind. the loss of his familiar presence in your mind hits you like waves crashing upon the shore. “i miss you already, master.”

he considers you with an inscrutable expression, and he sighs, warm and playfully exaggerated. again, you catch a hint of that odd, misplaced resignation. it almost makes you pout. is he unhappy with you after all? is he dissatisfied?

the need to reassure, to be reassured, drives you forward, and you pepper chaste kisses over the elegant curve of his jaw, the hollow of his throat. your sloppy adoration draws a soft laugh from his lips, and satisfaction settles in your heart once more.

“you’re so needy, darling,” he says, nuzzling his nose against yours. “but i love you for it.”

the declaration soothes you— a healing balm for all of your little aches and pains. he always knows just what to say to keep you wrapped around his finger.

“i’d do anything for you,” you say, and you mean it. “i’d give anything for you. everything, all of me, for you.”

the words darken his gaze, snuffing out the spark of regret you’d sensed in his expression for good. your heart flutters. this is how your master should look— confident, powerful. satisfied. happy.

a smile curls, smoke from the ashes, on his lips. it’s sharp; it bleeds at the edges, dark and possessive. “i know, little love. all of you, for me. just as it should be.”

#writemin!#astarion x reader #astarion smut #bg3 x reader #bg3 smut #+astarion

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kiwioala · 5 months

Text

documents bagi found in the fed lab!

I feel so sick from seeing all these bodies... First our colleagues and now this?? I need to take some time boss, I'll be back later. Maybe...

2 pictures, both from etoiles fight:

diagram regarding mimicubes and mimic octopus:

The bouncing block of slime is capable of copying the equipment of its enemies, the different things they can copy are: weapons (not only applying on hit effects but also enchantments), shields (being able to block projectile weapons like bows and crossbows), and totems to prevent their own death. Their goo is also known to be able to be used to copy a piece of equipment to the last detail regardless of what material or enchantments it has. It's ability seems to be an evolved version of that of a mimic octopus, the mimic octopus would copy the behavior and looks of other animals for both hunting and self defense. But it seems the mimic cube can copy other materials to the very last details, including pieces of equipment.

diagram regarding lobsters:

These little creatures have incredible abilities, including but not limited to being able to smell and taste the water with their "nose" to hunt their prey, their claws are also a unique barb that allows them to hunt for fish.

IT IS IMPERATIVE THAT WE ESCALATE THIS MATTER TO UPPER MANAGEMENT -> They won't stop growing and won't stop molting throughout with their life, it is considered that they could live forever, if it wasn't bc of the energy needed to molt that they eventually (at 100 years,) won't have

They also can come in different colors, depending on amount and distribution of pigments, being able to be other colors, including: orange, blue, yellow, white, black, and some with special names, like the split halloween colored (black and red) red-blue split colored and cotton candy (pinkish white)

diagram regarding cosmaws:

A once believed extinct species, these flying creatures will attack any player that hits it, biting back with its protocesis, it also uses it to hunt its main pray, the cosmic cod, which can be used to tame them.

While they will not protect their owner in a fight, they serve a different purpose to exploration, whenever their owner is about to fall to the void, the cosmaw will run for it and try to catch it so it doesn't fall into said void.

"Cosmic Cod are fish that can be found in the void between end islands. [...] They float through the ether of The End in decently-sized schools. If one fish in the school is attacked; the entire school of fish will attempt to teleport away as soon as possible. [...] Cosmic Cod can also be caught in an empty bucket." -Animal Dictionary

diagram regarding code status and behavior:

book found in drawer:

more code writing:

010 010 00 0100 0101 01001100 1010 00 00 which translates to "HELP"

lab reports:

[REPORT] Given the recent events at the laboratory, including the intrusion, code breaches, injuries, fatalities among our workers, and the peculiar attack by unfamiliar individuals, we have made the decision to relocate. The place isn't the secured area it used to be, we have reasons to think that several factions with different goals have found its location, therefore we need to find a new place to pursue our researches We have to protect our informations and hide our goals, we cannot let anyone see our research. All the content of our research is now way less valuable since it has been seen and might also have been copied. The next laboratory needs to have a way more secured system, cameras, and lockdown system.

[REPORT] All entities have been transported or terminated, the documents should follow.

[REPORT] It seems like the one eyed creature has been correctly relocated.

misc. clipboards:

CLIPBOARD 1: 1: Heyy, are u having a good day?? 2: No. 1: Oh. sorry about that, what's going on?? 2: Work. 1: O.o

CLIPBOARD 2: • Terminate the subject.

CLIPBOARD 3: • Check for vitals • Check for updates • Check for infection • Check for development

CLIPBOARD 4: • No report has been conclusive yet.

CLIPBOARD 5: • Reports still have to be finalized. • Night shift has to be adjusted as the code changed it's rhythm yet again.

CLIPBOARD 6: • Has been calm over the last fourteen hours. • The current frequency can't be read, we need to order new equipment.

#qsmp #liveblogging #qsmp lore #lore library #qsmp bagi

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spdrvyn · 10 months

Text

second chance headcanons — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: miguel breaks up with you out of concern for your safety, he tries to reassure himself that he did the right thing but he can't help how he yearns for your presence, your warmth, you every single day. how does he deal with it? do you two get back together?

THIS FIC CONTAINS: angst. hurt/comfort. fluff. somewhat suggestive content. pathetic miguel (for my enjoyment and yours). spider-person reader. slightly possessive miguel.

NOTES: i have nothing to say. i was possessed while i wrote this. STREAM PROMISE BY LAUFEY IT POWERED ME THROUGH THIS POST FR!!! also this is kinda long lol

× there is one leading factor as to why i think miguel would break up with you. being that he's so scared of getting comfortable, he doesn't want to overwhelm you, and get overly-attached. × he's grateful for you, he always will be but how long would that last before you'd be snatched from his careful grasp? even if your fates aligned, he was scared of even being open. that the moment he let you know of his deepest insecurities, you'd go running. × keeping a distance was just a habit that was hard to let go off, he did show he loved you but not in the ways that you needed or craved. pure physical affection wasn't enough, the tiniest gestures weren't enough, it wasn't enough. he knew that.

× which lead to the demise of your relationship, it was so utterly painful to watch his words sink in and the tears starting to breach from your waterline. he couldn't bring himself to hug you because how could he be so kind after doing something like that? × he couldn't be vulnerable, he had to be strong. keeping his emotions in check even as you said that you understood and if this is what made him happy then you'd go through with it, that you respected his wishes like the kind soul that you were and soon left. leaving him with an air of regret and yearning. × work isn't easier for him either, and that's normally the first thing on his list of suppressing his emotions. how hard he tried to conceal his shame whenever you two just happened to pass by each other in the halls of the headquarters. × you could see it too, let it not be said that you were oblivious. you had picked up on when miguel was trying to tamp down his feelings during the time of your previous relationship, and it was clear he was still trying to do it now. × if you were being completely honest with yourself, you tried doing the same since miguel was so insistent on shutting himself out, you might as well give it a shot. right? well, not really. each and every time you thought about him and no matter how hard you tried, it would spill out through sobs and long rants to your friends (to their misfortune). × you've learned to be more non-chalant about the break up, acknowledging that you couldn't really do anything about it. however, it didn't stop your heart from beating at a hundred miles an hour whenever you were within an arm's length from miguel. being alone with him certainly didn't make it better.

His voice rung in your head like a chant. Meet me in my office later, meet me in my office later, meet me in my office later. It's like he was haunting you, the sound of your own footsteps not even making it to your ears as you trudged closer and closer to his chambers.

Were you scared? Yes. Absolutely fucking terrified. However, it's not because you feared he was going to scold or yell at you, but because you've haven't been alone with him for a while.

Yes, one-on-one office meetings did happen from time to time but it's been days since your last one with him, and you certainly weren't expecting it to come so soon.

It felt darker than usual when you walked in, the platform that he normally stands on now lowered to it's fullest. You were well familiarized with his lab and it's layout, a lot has changed.

The brewing stations that he was so stern about cleaning now scattered, some stray vials even shattered on the floor. There were papers everywhere, unreadable from the dimness of the room but even from your viewpoint you could see how illegible his handwriting was when he was scribbling down on them.

Before you could observe his workspace any further, he steps down from his platform. Your eyes immediately flickering up, it unsettled you so much. Everything about this was unsettling. His eyes, you knew how to study his expression, a talent you gained from being the only person that Miguel really tolerated, but now? He was completely unreadable, like you didn't recognize him anymore.

Your gaze trails down to his chest, where it rosed and fell a lot faster than it usually did. He seemed erratic almost, you remembered when he'd come home to you in that kind of state and most of the time it would normally end in the bedroom.

Since you don't want to be caught staring at his pecs, you clear your throat and fight to make eye contact with him. "Sorry, what did you need me here for?"

Miguel looks as if he's lost in a trance for a moment, boring his eyes into yours until he snaps out of it and turns his head away - breaking the very uncomfortable exchange of eye contact.

"You got hurt during your last operation." His voice sounded hoarse, more so than usual at least. You really wondered what the hell Miguel was doing before you got in here, you were aware that he took some sort of drug to stabilize his DNA, maybe he hasn't taken his shots yet? You're too scared to ask.

"A lot of people got hurt," You begun to explain, crossing your arms and digging your fingers into your arms as to prevent yourself from stuttering. "I got a gash on my arm, but I went to the infirmary and got it fixed up so it's fine. I'm fine."

There goes that silence. That grating unbearable silence that forces you to hear every pin drop, every whir of a machine, and every distant laugh of yet another obnoxious Spider-person. Everything went quiet which made every other noise so fucking deafening, it irked you.

You wanted him to say something, to do something, to even just breathe a little louder because you knew the moment that he'd make even just a single nose that he'd get your attention right away.

Seems like you prayed a little too hard. He puts a hand on your shoulder and it sends shocks straight to your palpitating heart, he leans in close. Not close enough to have alarms blaring in your head, but he was very close.

"But you got hurt too. That's—" Suddenly, his head drops down and he stares at the floor for a few moments. You get a good view of his messy, dark brown curls before he looks back up again, before letting go of your shoulder. "Nevermind. Get out."

There goes the moment, as per usual. You huff a sigh of relief? Disappointment? You weren't quite sure, processing the emotions you just felt was a job for later, you had more pressing matters to attend to right now.

"Right, I'm sorry." You had no idea what you were apologizing for either, but it felt like you should be sorry.

× little did you know that that wouldn't be the last time you'd say sorry to miguel. you didn't consider yourself to be the most apologetic person, but with most things, miguel seemed to have unlocked that part of you as well.

× sometimes it would be over the smallest, most obscure encounters. like brushing fingers whenever you two reach for the same item in the cafeteria, whenever he drops a pen and you both try to pick it up at the same time.

× it's not like it got any better than that. whenever miguel wanted to meet up with you, this time not about you getting injured during operations (although if you did, it would consume most of the conversation) but even about the most mundane things, the meeting would end with an overwhelming silence that you'd have to break with the same pathetic "i'm sorry".

× miguel didn't know either, he thought he did but lyla has reassured him that it's just the overthinking talking and that he was worrying over it too much. even then, he still felt like it was his fault that you constantly had to apologize to him for reasons unknown. it was so pitiful, he couldn't stand seeing you like that. he'd rather die.

× this bad habit of yours didn't help either of you. every time you apologized to him, every time you looked at him, every time you spoke to him, every time you breathed in his direction, that pit of want in his stomach only continued to grow and that impulsive thought at the back of his head that tells him to just relent and beg for you back continued to grow louder and louder.

× no matter where he went, he'd be reminded of you. you were like a sticker he couldn't peel off, a tattoo that would never fade. he'd find bits and pieces of you in his home, around the city. whether it would be him scrolling past the channels late at night and coming across your favorite show, standing in front of the television in a daze as the memories come back to him before turning it off.

× or your smell would count as well. when he'd be going patrolling through the citys in the day and come across a perfume shop, it's like he has to physically restrain himself from barging inside geared in his suit just because he could smell your scent from the inside. he simply couldn't take it anymore, it's like his senses were going haywire.

× he needed you. he was going to fix this.

Miguel had never looked in the mirror more times in his life than now.

"Come on, Miguel. I'm sure you look fine! See? Look at that cute face," Lyla cooed in mock affection as Miguel scowled at her through the reflection of the mirror. "Not so cute anymore."

He ignored her comments, running his hand through his thick hair in a poor attempt in trying to getit to fall down in a more 'attractive' way (according to Lyla's fashion articles) but it just didn't seem to work. That's the downside of having consistently styled hair, Miguel huffs and rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Do I have everything?" He looks back up as Lyla flickers over to his kitchen counter, scanning the items on it through her careful gaze and heart-shaped sunglasses. Once she's done, she gives him a small thumbs-up. "Donuts and flowers are still here like they were fifteen minutes ago, Miguel."

He hated the fact that he kept checking his presents were going to disappear if he looked away for too long or stopped paying attention, he wasn't going to let his gifts for you slip out of his fingers this time. Not on his watch. Not toda—

"These flowers will wilt if you don't hurry up."

"Fine, fine. Stop rushing me."

With a few clicks of his watch, that same blinding portal opened up in front of him as he hesitantly walked into it. He clutched the flowers and donuts in an iron grip, trying to make sure no flowers flew out of the bouquet and all twelve donuts were still contained in the box.

He stood in the dimly lit hallway of your apartment, doors lining up on each side. The nerves were starting to creep up on him, very clear from the way that the paper that wrapped the bouquet so nicely was now crumpled. He sighed, dejected.

"You're going to do fine, Miguel." Lyla interjected.

"You don't know that," He begins taking very, very small strides towards your apartment door which made Lyla's virtual eyeballs roll to the back of her head. "We both won't know for sure unless you try, besides I sense that I'll be going offline soon."

"You don't have intuition. You're an artificial intelligence."

"You're going to kiss your soon-to-be in five minutes lover with that mouth?" Miguel followed the routine of angrily swatting Lyla away even as he's about to show up to your door, about to pour his whole heart out to you, though it's inevitable. She'll find a way to be witty about something, he'll get mad and tell her to leave, before coming back to grovel. There's a bit of pattern in that, no?

All the anxiety that Miguel has been trying to push down to the dark crevices of his heart were all coming back to him as he raised a shaking finger to ring your doorbell, countless scenarios rushing through his head. What if this was the wrong door? What if you were sleeping and he rudely interrupted you? What if you weren't home? What if you were dead? Oh, he hated that thought.

The door to your apartment swung open to his surprise, and the fingers he had clasped around the flowers soon unclenched when he caught the sight of you.

You were wearing just a shirt, a really big shirt. Which only really meant that it belonged to him, he recalled letting you borrow his clothes if he ever accidentally tore through them in the 'heat' of the moment. Where you'd promise that you'd return it in a week or so, but it never made it's way back to him, and he has grown more than content with that prospect.

He could catch a whiff of your apartment. It reeked of instant ramen packets, and it seemed like you opened more than one. He could catch a peek at the rest of your space as well, it was dimly lit and the TV is paused. The bowl of ramen sat comfortably on the coffee table in front of the couch, there were also a lot of crumpled up tissues littered across the surface which made him assume you were literally just crying.

His suspicions were confirmed when he finally looked at your face. Eyes a little red, slighly puffy, and droplets of water hanging from your chin like you'd just washed your face. Your normally well-kept hair was a mess, and every detail of you in the moment made Miguel's heart drum loudly in his chest.

"Miguel," At last, you spoke. Voice raspier than he remembered it. "You— why are you here? If this is about work then my watch is in my bedroom, I'm sorry if I didn't answer your calls."

Yes, of course because him standing in your doorway with a wonderful bouquet of flowers and your favorite donuts definitely meant that he was here to talk about business. He shook his head, "No, I'm not here for work. Not at all."

He bestowed the gifts to you, and no matter how confused you are right now, you still gladly took them in your hands. The way that you looked up at him was an apology within itself, but you couldn't even manage to whisper the words out because what were you going to apologize for when he brought you all of this?

Oh, god. He was really going to do this, wasn't he?

"Mi sol," He got down on his knees. He got down on his knees, you wanted to gasp but it's like Miguel sucked the words straight out of your body. "I'm so sorry. I really am."

The hundreds of apologies that you dished out over the span of a few weeks could even compare how to raw Miguel's voice sounded right now. It felt so real, so true, and he's barely even said anything yet. You felt terrible that all you could really do in the moment was stare, eyes widened and expression dumbfounded.

"I broke your heart, I hurt you. You poured your heart out to me, talked about your feelings, put your trust in me, and I broke it. You don't have to believe me when I say this, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't, but I was scared, fucking terrified at the thought of you leaving. You were just so perfect, so amazing on the inside and out, and I didn't want to lose that, lose you."

Miguel had no idea what was even coming out of his mouth right now, no rhyme or reason behind his words, but he didn't care. He wanted to turn off his mind for the moment, letting his heart speak for itself like he should have done eons ago.

"But," Shakily, he reached his hand out for yours. You quickly shifted the box of confectionaries to your other hand, letting him hold onto you like you were his lifeline. Like you are his lifeline. "Those are just my reasons, take them as you will. Please trust me when I say that I want to be a better lover, a better person for you. It's all you deserved, and it's all I want to give to you."

He peppers a few small kisses to your knuckles before continuing to speak, "Lo siento, cariño. I know that this is all might sound so— so idiotic, I'm not good with words. I took you for granted and discarded you, and for my ignorance, you can be mad at me for the rest of my life, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing you didn't receive any closure. Even if you don't forgive me, I just wanted to let you know that I truly am sorry. All the logic, all the facts, I'll put them aside for you. You are all that matters to me now."

The whole world went silent as Miguel squeezed his eyes shut, not even his super-human senses could pick up any background noise. You hadn't pulled your hand back yet so he continued to brush his thumb over your knuckes and veins, but he couldn't tell if it's because you were shocked or you were stunned from utter joy.

He feels his heart drop when he hears you whimper.

His eyes fly open, and he looks back up at you. Shit, you were crying again. You were crying again, and it was his fault. Although who was to say that you weren't already crying before he got here?

The hand he wrapped around yours tightened gently in a soothing gesture, but it only seemed to make you sob harder which increased his guilt. Was his apology that bad?

"You are such a liar," Shit. Maybe he should have dignified that suggestion from Lyla telling him to write this down first. "You can't just— just say all of that shit and then tell me you're bad with words."

Wait, what? Clear confusion was well written on his face from the way that his brows knitted together.

Your hand broke free from his grasp to move up his arm, his shoulder, before smoothing over his hair, tucking back the stray strands that have fallen on his face so that you can lean forward, and kiss his forehead. Even if the kiss was so small, it felt so heavenly.

Your kisses moved down to the bridge of his nose, then finally landing on his lips, the lips that you've only dreamt of kissing and now the past month of desire felt like it was slowly being satiated. Your eyes flutter close as you can feel Miguel stand up, his strong arms move to wrap around your waist, nearly lifting you off of the floor as the kiss deepens.

His hands wandered the expanse of your back, like he was trying to revise every inch of you, but you didn't blame him. Both of you needed this so much and so badly too. Every rub and soft groan spoke a hundred utterances of I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.

He barely pulls back once the kiss ends, faces barely inches away from each other. You find yourself entranced in the delightful shade of red that his eyes are, you'd catch yourself bashfully staring at them before, but now? You were more than shameless about it.

"Let me inside," whispered Miguel, voice low and husky, only laced with want and need. You knew exactly what he needed. "Want to make it all up to you, please."

You couldn't do anything about it as you obliged, grabbing Miguel by the collar of his jacket, and tugging him inside your apartment. Not even a few steps in, he grabs the flowers and donuts from your grasp, sets them down on the coffee table, before pushing your body against the couch. You yelped a little, but he silenced it by capturing your lips in yet another searing kiss that you couldn't help but lean into.

All the physical affection that Miguel had given you last time didn't disappoint at all, but this just felt entirely different. His actions were saying just as much as his words, leaning his frame into yours and hungrily pressing you into the cushions.

You thought that he'd at least give you a second to breathe but he stole that from you once more as his lips travelled down, kissing along the outline of your jaw then moving down to your neck. His favorite spot, he remembered every single mark and bruise that he left on you, and he was going to make anew.

The familiar feeling of sharpness as his fangs nibbled at the flesh, you didn't even have to look down to see the marks forming and blooming in a lovely shade of red as he continued to bite.

It's not like you were any better than him though. Needy and pathetic whines that slipped out of your mouth, just a continuous string of please Miguel, need you, missed you so much, I want you so bad. It all only continued to spur him on, he murmured sweet nothings both in Spanish and English against your neck as his advances moved its way down your figure.

His rough, calloused hands had a firm grip on you, daring to slip under the hem of your shirt— no, his shirt. "Can't believe I let go of all of this," He rasped out. "Eres tan bueno conmigo, you're being so good. Letting me get a taste of you," He fed into his impulses, lifting your shirt up to expose most of your torso besides your chest.

Your nails dug into his back, free hand tangling in his locks as he continued to press more wet kisses onto your belly, then to your abdomen. As to tease you, he instead went to your thighs. His claws scraped against the plumpness of it before he took a big bite.

You keened, the hand that you had nuzzled in his hair tightened.

"Miguel, please—"

"I know, I know. Just wait a little longer, hm?"

With every peck, every coo, every single breath that he took, it all spoke the same meaning to you.

I want you.

I need you.

I love you.

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sbdskate · 8 months

Text

Laws Of Attraction (Part 7) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings (18+): fluff, language, slight angst, alcohol consumption, hangovers, sexual themes, self-pleasure, references to sexual activities, NSFW

Word Count: 5,209

A/N: Thank you for your patience while I took a bit of a break. Hopefully it won’t be as long while I finish up *the last part (*hopefully but no promises - iykyk). I hope you enjoy, please don’t be a ghost reader! Constructive criticism is always welcome <3

Daniel woke up the next morning feeling like an anvil dropped on his head. He cursed the alarm but was thankful he had the foresight to set one. It was a tall order trying to sort through the details of the night before. He had his phone, keys, and wallet, so that was a win at least. What time had he gotten back to the hotel? He recounted the most peculiar dream that you had been in his room at one point – he reminded himself to lay off the melatonin, it always made his subconscious mind run wild. It took every ounce of energy to push himself upright, swinging his legs to the side of the bed at a glacial pace. Fighting the throbbing in his head, he almost missed the pills and water on the nightstand and a trash bin next to him on the floor. Drunk Daniel had never been so thoughtful or organized. Maybe it wasn’t melatonin after all. Those familiar butterflies he felt every time he thought of you fluttered away.

On second thought, definitely not butterflies.

After unceremoniously emptying the contents of his stomach, he gladly consumed the gifts you had left for him. He took a much longer shower than usual, doing his best to wash away the anxiety brought on by his hangover. He was going into the last race weekend of the year (maybe two) feeling like absolute shit. The thought of you putting him to bed initially made him giddy but it was overshadowed by fear of the unknown. His memory of the night before was fuzzy at best and but for the physical evidence you left behind, he would have gone on believing the kiss in Brazil was the last time the two of you interacted. Fuck, he had made such a fool of himself. What else had he inadvertently said or done last night? If you had walls up before, you probably now also had a moat, barbed wire, and trained militia on guard. In his efforts to get closer to you, you ended up pushing him away. You were the sun and he was Icarus.

But clearly all was not lost if you had helped him in his hour of need. If he could trust his “dream,” you had called him your friend. You had worn his clothes. You insinuated there would be a world where the two of you would be alone in a bedroom again. If all true, the culmination of those things did not add up to a person who wanted to completely shut him out. Then again, maybe that was you simply being you – that is, a good person who would show the same compassion to anyone whether they were your lover, friend, or stranger on the street.

He hadn’t had this lack of confidence picking up girls since he was an awkward teenager. From the beginning you had been a puzzle. You did not immediately fawn over him and fall victim to his charms. He sensed you may have even disliked him upon your first meeting, though he couldn’t blame you – he had severely underestimated you. Thereafter, every one of your laughs was hard earned which made them all the more sweet. You were accomplished in your own right and impressing you was a tall order, but when he succeeded it felt as though he had won Monaco a million times over.

He thought back to Austin. So much had gone wrong, but so much had gone oh so right. There was an ease about you that weekend that he had only previously been privy to in staccato bursts. Whatever internal struggle you had been fighting seemingly slowed, allowing him to peel back all your layers. Even in that sad corridor, he could’ve sat next to you in silence for all of eternity and he would have been happy.

Then there was that pesky elephant in the room. In just a few days, he technically wouldn’t be your client anymore. He could get lost in all the tempting possibilities, but he had to stay focused. He’d cross that bridge later. Until then, all he had to do was stay in your good graces.

When the day came for your first client meeting in Abu Dhabi, you weren’t sure what version of Daniel you were going to get. You wouldn’t be surprised if he froze you out again like he did after Austin. It would be disappointing but understandable. You had explained yourself more than enough at this point though, and the position you found yourselves in wasn’t your fault. Nobody could have predicted that your client would fall for you when you were selected as counsel for the driver. You couldn’t control his response, and if you reasserting your boundaries made him that upset then so be it.

No, there were no nerves this time but there was still an underlying anxiety that caused your heart to race. The partner was waiting at the offsite dinner location when you arrived. It was an elegant restaurant, so you had selected a pretty but conservative wrap dress for the occasion.

“Y/n, so glad you could make it,” he said as he extended his arms for a small hug.

“Me? I’ve been at every race weekend, not sure where you’ve been,” you teased.

“I know, I know, it’s been busy. I appreciate all your hard work through this. I’ve told the managing partner about your efforts, we’re all very impressed.” You couldn’t help the growing smile on your face, but you did your best to hide the absolute giddiness swelling in you. That bonus was yours to lose at this point and if this trajectory continued, you could make partner by the time you were 35.

“Thank you for the recognition, but I’m just doing my job,” you feigned in modesty. You knew how many hours of sleep you’d lost over the course of the last few months between the work itself and the constant travel. You knew how much you missed your friends and family during this time, and the other countless sacrifices you’d made along the way. But you would do it all over again for the once in a lifetime opportunity. And you never would have met Daniel - that certainly counted for something. Maybe after last week your relationship wouldn’t be the same going forward, but his companionship until now had offered you an unexpected fulfillment that felt foreign.

Then, as if someone had read your mind:

“She’s being modest,” you heard behind you, a hand resting on your shoulder. You turned to see him in nice slacks, a crisp white t-shirt, and sport coat. For someone that was probably fighting for their life this morning and suffered through a long media day, he cleaned up very nicely. You did your best not to openly ogle, though he caught the quickened rise and fall of your chest. You couldn’t help but smile back when he gave you his signature grin.

“Daniel, great to see you,” Joe said as he extended his arm past you to shake his hand.

“Likewise, nice of you to finally show up.” His tone and features were so pleasant that he could pass off the genuine dig as jest. Either way, the partner was unphased.

“Well, that’s why I brought in my very best associate to help me out as back up.”

“I suppose I should consider myself lucky then,” he said, smiling back at you. “Though, I don’t think I would call her ‘back up’by any means.”

The familiar heat rose to your cheeks as you bit your lip to unsuccessfully suppress your bashful smile. You gently elbowed him to convey your thanks. Both for defending you but also for the normalcy of the interaction.

You anticipated a level of awkwardness after your nondescript rejection in Brazil, thinking he would try to distance himself as he had after Austin. You wouldn’t fault him if he sat next to Joe, but he plopped down right next to you as though nothing had happened. An unexpected wave of relief washed over you. It seemed clear that you were “good”, whatever that meant. Sure, it helped to have Joe there as a buffer, but the two of you would have probably been fine on your own. The thought gave you solace.

The uneventful meal concluded with a plan of action in place for the rest of the weekend. The three of you made your way out of the restaurant towards the valet.

“I hope the two of you will enjoy the weekend at least until we complete the signing on Monday? Consider it a thank you.” It wasn’t the first time you’d heard that line before, but it felt different this time.

“I’ll have to take some calls here and there, but sure, why not,” Joe responded, oblivious to the fact that the message was hardly meant for him.

“Good, I’ll make sure you guys have your paddock passes for the next few days.”

Of course as if on cue the partner’s phone went off as you exited the restaurant.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this. But hey, great dinner. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Yep, have a good night,” you trailed off as he walked away, smiling through gritted teeth. You watched as he got into the corporate car by himself already focused on something else entirely, even though you were all going back to the same place.

“Typical.” You turned to Daniel, surprised at his observation.

“Could you tell?”

“Seems like we both have bosses who abandon us.” You smiled.

“What an unfortunate bonding experience.”

It was a heavy conversation, but the air was light. You both giggled at your misfortunes. When it died down, he broke the silence.

“Uh, thanks for making sure I was… accounted for last night.”

“Oh,” your cheeks dusted pink. You had such high hopes he wouldn’t remember. Maybe there was still a chance, perhaps Lando had simply filled him in. “Sure, no biggie. It happens to the best of us.”

“I didn’t do or say anything embarrassing, right?” Daniel tested the waters, partially playing dumb. His memory may be fuzzy, but he knew enough. You pursed your lips together.

“Nothing more than usual,” you said with a smile, playing it off. He felt slightly disappointed. He wished you would admit to the kiss along with the hopes you’d bestowed upon him – but maybe it was just in his head after all. Either way, you didn’t seem entirely comfortable with the conversation and that was a clear enough message to him. He knew what he needed to do.

“Can I just say,” he paused. He might need to go back inside for another drink. “- that I’m sorry. For everything. You’re just here trying to do your job, and I’m not making it easier for you. You’ve said no, and I keep trying dumb shit. I should have stopped.”

Your chest tightened. The apology was somehow welcome, appreciated, and warranted. But you also found it endearing which made you like him even more. And it also probably meant that he had lost interest and that last part didn’t make you feel great either. You wanted to tell him everything but doing so would only complicate things. Instead you bit your tongue and gave a polite smile.

“Thank you. Apology accepted.”

“No, thank you. I’ve made an ass of myself over and over again and you put up with it.”

“Well. I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from my first celebrity client, but ‘ass’ was certainly in the realm of possibility,” you said cheekily. “Nothing I wasn’t prepared for.” The lie slipped easily through your teeth.

“So you assumed I was going to be an ass?” he asked with a laugh.

“What did Drive to Survive call you guys? ‘Talented, rich, and cocky’?” He crossed his arms over his chest defensively, but his face was still warm and welcoming.

“Don’t tell me you watch that garbage.”

“For research purposes, obviously,” you said sarcastically.

He watched your eyes twinkle and the sly grin that graced your features as the desert wind gently blew your hair around your face, framing it perfectly. You fixed the strand he so badly wanted to tuck behind your ear yourself. Your wrap dress fluttered just so, allowing him to catch a quick glimpse of your upper thigh, contrasting the otherwise modest outfit. He wondered what it would be like to tug at the delicate bow at the side of your waist that kept the whole ensemble together. He caught himself in the middle of his thoughts.

“Since your boss left you stranded, can I give you a ride back?” You looked around, a serious look on your face. You whispered in a low voice.

“Is that… appropriate? I know men and women aren’t supposed to be alone together here.” He wanted to laugh but didn’t want to make you feel bad. Of course the lawyer wanted to follow everything to a T. He knew from experience that the morality laws were loosely enforced at best, but he wasn’t sure how much of that was attributed to his own privilege.

“If it makes you feel any better, I could pretend to be your chauffeur.” The line earned him a laugh.

“An F1 driver as a chauffeur. That’s rich.” He smiled, satisfied with his efforts to put you at ease.

“So is that a yes?”

“Yeah, but the expectations are pretty high.”

“You’ll have to let me know if I have a backup career as a personal driver if this whole F1 thing doesn’t work out.”

The valet pulled around an unassuming black SUV with tinted windows. Without skipping a beat, he opened the back passenger’s seat door waiting for you with an extended hand dipping into an exaggerated bow.

“Your chariot, m’lady.”

“Oh my, what service,” you contrived dramatics with a hand over your heart. Your other hand graciously accepted his while getting into the car. The familiar pulsating electricity coursed through the touch and lingered as you watched him close the door.

“Home Jeffrey,” you said, donning the worst British accent you could muster when he settled in the drivers seat. He peered at you in the reflection of the rearview mirror. You looked relaxed and happy, and that was enough for him. Your eyes locked, and you caught a glimpse of those dimples that could melt polar ice caps.

It was a comfortable ride back to the hotel, a little small talk here and there. He tossed the keys to the valet and helped you out of the car, again trying to memorize the feeling of your palm in his before reluctantly letting go.

He pressed for his floor in the elevator. He looked at you when you didn’t follow suit, wondering for a moment whether he forgot his manners.

“Uh, what floor are you?” he asked politely, hovering over the buttons.

“Oh… I actually ended up down the hall from you.”

“Oh.” A loud silence fell. It was unclear whether the arrangement was fortuitous or simply torture for both parties, the other so close but just out of reach.

The doors opened and you tried to hide a sheepish look as you started walking in the same direction.

“Are you following me now?” he joked. “I don’t need help getting into bed this time, promise.”

You stammered a bit, trying to find the right words but decided to keep your mouth shut. You had begged the concierge to find you any other room but she insisted the hotel was fully booked and there were no other options. But you realized in that moment it would only be weird if you made it weird. Humor was always the best deflection so you decided to lean into it. Your ability to hide your growing smile began to falter. Looking like the cat that swallowed the canary, you didn’t say a word as you walked past him when he finally stopped in front of his door. Only looking back in his direction to wave when you stopped in front of yours which happened to be the room over. You both snorted before dissolving into laughter over the absurdity of it all.

“Don’t worry, I’ll try not to throw any ragers,” you said between fits of giggles.

“You mean I wouldn’t be invited?” he asked in faux disbelief.

“You know you’re always welcome, what’s a party without thee Daniel Ricciardo? I just wouldn’t want to disrupt your ‘high performance athlete’ routine before race day.” He cocked an eyebrow.

“If you threw a ‘rager’, everyone would be sitting in a circle doing face masks with Celine Dion playing in the background like some kind of selfcare séance. And it would be over by 10pm.” The laughter that had finally started to slow picked up again. His heart skipped a beat seeing your nose scrunch.

“Hey now, you forgot the scented candles. That open flame is a safety hazard.”

“You are just too wild and crazy.”

“You know me so well. I’ll do my best to keep it down, no promises though.” The laughter slowed again, but the wide grins remained.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow… neighbor.” You smiled, liking the way it sounded coming from him.

“I guess so, good night neighbor.”

You closed your respective doors, each acutely aware of the one wall that separated you.

Daniel rubbed the sleep out of his eyes the next morning, aimlessly palming his nightstand to turn off his alarm. He made his way to the bathroom, slowly shaking away his slumber. He was washing his hands when he realized there was more noise than what was coming from the faucet. He turned the water off and listened. He picked out the sound of running water. There may have been music playing from a phone, but it was drowned out by a muffled, unmistakable, offkey voice he could pick out anywhere.

Cuz when the night faaaaallls

My loneliness calls

Boo doo boo DOOP

Ohhhhh I wanna dance with somebody

I wanna feel the HEAT with somebody

yeaAHH I wanna dance with somebody

With somebody who loves me

He smiled to himself listening to you try to do lead, backup vocals, and instrumentals of the Whitney Houston classic, reminiscing back to your performance with Lando in Japan. The warmth that spread from his chest to his toes woke him up, suddenly feeling a renewed sense of optimism for the practice sessions ahead.

As he left to head to the paddock, he heard another door close. His timing was meticulous and he counted his blessings that he should be so fortunate to share more time with you. He couldn’t help the giant smile that grew on his face at the sight of you, immediately imagining you singing in the shower. You double checked for something in your bag before you looked up to meet his gaze. You looked behind you to make sure his dimples weren’t reserved for someone else.

“Hi?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Hi.” He knew he looked dumb, but he didn’t care. He was allowed to smile at you, right?

“You’re awfully happy to see me this morning.” The corners of your mouth turned upward, marked with a cautious skepticism.

“Yeah, h-” He stopped himself. How was your sold out stadium tour in the shower? But if this was a ritual of yours, he didn’t want to miss out on future performances – he did still have three more days with you. “I’m just excited for the practice session.”

Your smile relaxed somewhat. “I’m glad you’re feeling confident. Do you wanna walk over together?”

“Oh, you’re going there too?” He mentally smacked himself as soon as the words left his mouth. Where else would you be going?

“Well yeah. You invited Joe and I, remember?”

“Right. Wasn’t sure if you were off to do lawyer things.”

“I mean I am, but the track is a lot more fun than the hotel lobby. Y’know?”

He did. And the walk there was much nicer with your company. He enjoyed this new morning routine and would be sure to make it happen the rest of the weekend. On his own he may have felt the gravity of the situation more, may have simply gone through the motions to get it all over with, the weight on his shoulders too much to bear. But your presence invigorated him. Helped him believe that there were better things on the horizon. He just needed to clear this one last hurdle and he had the strength to do it. He was consistent in the Friday practice sessions, and your shower version of “Pocketful of Sunshine” the next morning helped him place P10 for qualifying.

You too found this morning pattern soothing. You were pleasantly surprise that you enjoyed your new neighbor more than you thought you would, and happy that what you thought would be a source of stress and awkwardness brought you peace and comfort. When race day rolled around, you had no reason to believe it would be any different than practice or qualifying, other than the fact it was a night race. So you caught up on work in the morning before you got yourself ready as usual. You decided it was a Celine Dion day, happily belting “It’s All Coming Back To Me Now,” unbeknownst to you that you had an audience. In another pleasant turn of events, Joe had given you the ok to leave the work at home, granting full permission to enjoy the race. You initially went for your yellow midi dress, but it triggered flashbacks to Austin. It was best to put it away, no need to risk the bad juju. You struggled to pick something else, changing no less than five times. Somehow you needed to be modest, but in something where you wouldn’t overheat, but it would cool down once the sun set, but it also had to be stylish because you were again going to be surrounded by A-listers across an array of disciplines who looked like they just walked off the runway in Milan. For once you wished you had the ease of just throwing on a suit and being done with the whole ordeal. But the thought got your creative juices flowing, and you settled on a sleek black blazer dress. You threw on the Louboutins you bought with your first Big Law pay check that only came out on special occasions, and topped off the outfit with some big gold hoops for good measure. You could always fake confidence with red bottoms, red lips, and gold hoops.

Even though you had no work with you this time, you had grown accustomed to arriving fashionably early to these events to coincide with Daniel. You gave a friendly knock on his door, expecting him to be ready at the same time as you as he had the last two days. But nothing could have prepared you for coming face to face with the Australian and his Adonis-like figure on full display. Of course he would have no shame answering the door in just a smile and a towel, though with a body like that it was amazing he wore clothes ever.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I. Uh. Um. I-” You continued to stutter as you tried to figure out where to look. You feebly tried to avert your gaze but his beautifully tan muscles demanded attention, from his shoulders, to his pecs, to his abs. You wanted to study and write a dissertation on the tattoos on his arms. You definitely wanted to memorize the line of the towel that hung just so on his hips. But you also didn’t want to make it obvious that you were staring. So your eyes darted from the ceiling, to his body, to the floor, then back to his body, in a chaotic loop.

“My eyes are up here.” His voice dripped with smugness. You definitely couldn’t look there. But you obliged, only to be met with the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen in your life. Your entire body was on fire, and the arrogant twinkle in his eye only stoked it. You knew he was hot. God knew he was hot. Everyone knew he was hot. And he knew it too. And he was having the best time seeing you flustered.

“When you’re done having a stroke, care to tell me why you’re here?”

“You have to be there in less than an hour, I thought you’d be ready to go and we could head down together!” Your tone came off as frustrated. And you were, for more reasons than one. He rolled his eyes.

“We aren’t that far and I don’t take that long to get ready. Give me a few minutes, I’ll be right out.”

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll be in my room,” you said curtly, and spared no time practically running back.

Daniel laughed to himself as he closed the door to continue getting ready. Seeing you lose any measure of control had become one of his favorite things, a stark contrast to your usual moda operendi. He paused though when an unfamiliar sound came from the wall you shared. He stood in front of it for a moment trying to decipher what it was. It sounded like an electric shaver, but why would you need one of those? His eyes widened and the blood rushed to his cheeks and crotch as it dawned on him.

Your hands were almost shaking as you got the door open. You rummaged through your bag to find your vibrator, practically ransacking your room in the process. You definitely had time to rub one out before he would be ready. The picture of his muscly tattooed thighs pressing on the back of yours flooded your brain, back bowed for him with his name falling off your tongue. Your body ached for it to be a reality, one that was so close yet so far. You fell on the bed and pressed the toy where you needed it, eyes squeezed shut, desperately wishing it was the appendage of your friendly neighbor.

Daniel had never gotten ready so fast in his entire life. No doubt, what he just witnessed was the epitome of sexual frustration. Knowing you, you would be quick and efficient about it – he could imagine you splayed on the bed with the hem of your dress bunched up. You probably didn’t even take off your underwear. An internal battle waged within him – whether to rub one out himself or rush to catch you in your immediate post orgasm bliss, the latter ultimately winning. He would have plenty of time later to take care of himself.

You were so close, when your phone went off.

DR: I’m outside your door.

The disturbance in your momentum should have thrown you off. But the idea that he was basically right there while you touched yourself pushed you right to the edge. Another fantasy intruded your thoughts, imagining what it might be like if he were to come inside and watch you. Your phone dinged again a second later.

DR: Come.

And you did.

You barely had time to come down from your orgasm as you smoothed out your skirt and grabbed your bag again.

“Hi sorry I’m ready,” you said breathlessly as you strode past him.

Daniel chewed the inside of his cheek. He didn’t miss the bright pink flush or the light sheen that graced your features. Your obvious glow matched the flyaways that now stuck out from your otherwise perfectly coiffed hair that made him want to drag you into his room and put that silly little imagination of yours to shame. Demand to know whether your dreams were as good as the real thing with a fistful of your hair in his hand as he buried himself deep inside you. Demand to know whether that stupid toy made you feel like half the woman he did. And that dress. That beautiful dress that hugged your body in all the right places, that showed off its peaks and valleys, that teased just the tip of your cleavage before sealing your tits away like a cruel riddle. He would ruin it. The stiffness in his pants pestered him, and he pushed the impossible thoughts away. He settled on tucking one of the out-of-place strands behind your ear, not missing the opportunity to tease you even if only a little.

“Everything ok? You’re all flushed.”

You bit back a whimper as the tip of your ear fired signals to your core and you suddenly wished your hair follicles had tactile sensors. You would’ve been blushing if your face wasn’t already red.

“Yeah… I, uh, realized I lost an earring. So I had to find it.”

“Did you?” The way his warm brown eyes bore into yours made your stomach do cartwheels.

“Yeah.” Why were you suddenly panting?

“Good. I’m glad you, uh… found your earring.” If you blinked you would’ve missed it, but you could’ve sworn you saw the flash of a smirk cross his face before it was gone. Were you still talking about earrings?

You continued to make your way to the paddock together, you stayed just a pace ahead still hesitant to make eye contact with the driver. You whipped around though when you heard a distinct *click* only to find him with his camera still aimed at you. Another *click*, the flash blinding you momentarily.

“Daniel!” The blush that had finally started to fade came back with a vengeance. He had tried to take pictures of you before, eager to practice his new hobby, and you had politely reminded him that it would pose a risk to your attorney-client privilege (it was mostly a lie, but he didn’t need to know that). But now he lowered the camera, revealing a ghost of a smirk.

“I figured it’s ok since you’re not working. Just want to remember everything from my last race day.”

“We’re in the hallway of a hotel,” you deadpanned.

“You’re right, I’ll take better pictures when we’re outside.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Natural lighting is so much better anyways.” You sighed, reluctantly granting your approval and he internally cheered. You didn’t need to know there was no way in the world he would delete the ones he already took though, that perfectly captured the curve of your backside and your beautiful, bambi eyes looking over your shoulder.

He could’ve gotten lost in his thoughts of you and he would do so happily, but he needed to get in the zone. He tried, but surprisingly the feeling never came. He found he wasn’t really nervous either. After basically processing the five stages of grief over the last few months over his career, there was nothing left for him to prove or fight for. That thought once brought him deep shame, but now it was freeing. Maybe the weight of everything would hit him later, but for now he simply wanted to be in the moment wherever the day led him. At this particular moment, that meant walking to the paddock with you at his side.

Tags: @ravenqueen27 @leslizzle @zendayabelova @eitak-t @chiliwhore @wewoo1233 @thatchickwiththecamera

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llamagoddessofficial · 1 year

Note

Hey Llama, since we saw what a good aquarium is like, how about zoo siren au if the aquarium was actually competent and good? :D

aka-indulgence more like aka-ingulGENIUS

Sans: This AU would probably make the biggest difference to dearly beloved orca boy. Our cute monochromatic sociopath has a dizzyingly large pool with plenty of room to move and depth to dive into, plenty of natural lighting from big windows and fresh air pumped from outside, a constantly rotated array of complex toys to pull apart. But most importantly, humans don't closely interact with him. The aquarium can tell he's angry, and doesn't want anyone near him- so for both their safety and his peace of mind staff interact with him exclusively through sheets of thick glass or from high walkways far out of his reach.

This has left them with a siren who still launches attacks when he can (like breaching to try and hit the walkway), but has never successfully killed anyone. And the biggest difference is he's only attacking out of momentary flashes of frustration. He's not planning murders far in advance, like his abused counterpart- he's just losing his temper. He's generally quite content.

Even more so when he meets his darling keeper.

Red: We have a very happy shark on our hands!

A big tank, full of swarms of little fish and actual live coral instead of just fake fibreglass, he's got one of those winding shark tunnels beneath his enclosure that kids love to run through. He delights in the excited expressions on their faces when he glides over their heads, and he likes being 'chased' around the tank... lots of cute viral videos of him blowing bubbles at children, or sneaking up behind an unsuspecting adult and scaring the shit out of them.

The aquarium tried to wean him off his affinity for people. It didn't work. Unfortunately, that means he can't really ever be released, in case he approaches swimmers and gets himself hunted- so now they indulge his fixation on humans for enrichment purposes.

The main difference for this Red is how he bites. He still bites keepers, But they're warnings for getting too close, nothing with malicious intent... he hasn't removed any fingers, he's still very popular with staff for his big personality. You can't help but love him.

Skull: Since Sans is happy pulling apart his toys instead of staff, Skull is arguably the most dangerous siren in this AU. Not much changes about him, really, despite the far better environment; he's got a lovely deep dark tank and a much bigger den to hide in, but he's still known for tucking away rather than approaching the crowds.

... And he's still a killer.

He's the only siren who's successfully killed someone in this AU. Ironically, the fact that it's only one death makes him seem even scarier, and his repeated attempts all the more jarring. If it weren't for the strict safety protocols that were enforced after the first death he likely would've killed again. Unlike their 'bad au' counterpart, this aquarium isn't nearly as willing to throw Mc into his tank to pacify him- in fact, they're not willing at all. Putting Mc within tentacle's reach of this behemoth seems to be the last thing they want to do.

... But if it keeps him calm, and stops him attacking...

#llamagines #lets call this one.........#good zoo siren au #back from holiday #so sansposting will soon resume #aquarium: we are NOT willing to put you in a tank with a crazy giant octopus siren #mc: when i talk to him he doesnt try to kill people #aquarium:#aquarium: we are considering putting you in a tank with a crazy giant octopus siren

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suzukiblu · 2 months

Text

WIP WEDNESDAY GAME

Slimmed-down post/rules, but originally taken from @kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday! This week's theme is "incredibly intentional and deliberate baby acquisition" (aka, "gIVE ME BABY"). With perhaps a slightly loose definition of "baby", hahaha.

( I had so, so many options that fit this theme to pick between, lol. )

Here’s how it works:

I will post the filenames of five WIPs, and will also post a snippet of new content from one of them to get the ball rolling.

Send me an ask with the name of one of the listed WIPs and I will write you a minimum of three sentences in that WIP in response!

Multiple requests are fine, but I’d prefer if you sent them in separate asks. Just a little easier for me to fill them that way.

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

WIP names:

Clark wakes up alive

congratulations, it's a metaweapon!

the Last Son of Krypton meets Hypertime Kon

YJ accidental baby acquisition

Clark panic-adopts his teenage clones

snippet from “Clark wakes up alive”:

The pod is empty, Clark can already see through the walls. But he can hear a familiar heartbeat, though it sounds a little . . . different, now.

It’s been so, so long since he’s heard it, but even if he didn’t have the eidetic memory, he never could’ve forgotten it. That's Conner's heartbeat.

His brother's heartbeat.

But it's different, too.

And the empty pod isn't the only thing he can see through the walls.

“What’s the damn alarm about?” Desmond says irritably, not looking up from his work. Dubbilex doesn’t respond; Guardian shakes his head.

“Security systems are reporting a breach, sir,” he says. “Multiple doors are broken, but no one’s been spotted on the cameras. And the readings say they all broke within . . . point five seconds of each other?”

Conner doesn’t say anything either. He just sits very, very still between them, his heartbeat thrumming with a quiet, restless anxiety.

“Then lock the place down already!” Desmond snaps as he picks up a thin metal instrument with a sharp tip. Conner's heartbeat picks up.

“That will not be necessary,” Dubbilex informs them both, bland and neutral. “Superman has already let himself in.”

“What?” Guardian says, sounding startled.

“What?!” Desmond demands.

Conner’s heartbeat stutters, and Clark can’t be anywhere but in that room.

So he is, before Conner’s stuttered heartbeat has even settled, and then he’s looking at Desmond and far too many needles and medical instruments and Guardian who’s half-turning and Dubbilex who’s already facing his way and a few scattered G-nomes and G-trolls in assorted places here and there around the room and . . . Conner.

But not Conner as Clark’s used to seeing him.

Was used to seeing him, anyway.

Desmond curses, and Guardian jerks in shock. Dubbilex looks unaffected.

And the child sitting on the exam table in the center of the room stares up at Clark the exact same way a teenager once did: like he’s seeing the moon and sun and everything he thinks he’s supposed to be for the first time. Like he’s seeing something he’s waited and wanted to be.

Hoped to be, maybe.

And Clark . . .

Clark handles it differently this time, just like he’s always wished he could've.

“Hello,” he says kindly as he steps forward and ignores everyone else in the room to drop down into a crouch in front of the exam table and smile at Conner, who keeps staring at him mutely. “It’s nice to meet you."

#wip wednesday #meme #wip: clark wakes up alive #long post

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tiyoin · 1 year

Text

✧ : *🦢 you’re joking,right? pt 2 ･ﾟ:*

synopsis ───◌ in which the blue lock guys come crawling back years later,

characters ┈┈◌ nagi seishiro /reo mikage ♡ isagi yoichi

cw ──♡⃝ cursing, implied potential reo/nagi/reader, reo being magi’s bitch wingman, Reo is my bisexual queen, isagi the number rizzler, isagi is lowkey manipulative -> take that how you want. isagi has a gvn ⁉️⁉️

𝐍𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 + 𝐫𝐞𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐠𝐞??

“For the last time no Reo. Please stop calling me, I have no interest in meeting with you or Nagi, bye”

You sighed, hanging up and immediately blocking the new number. Again.

This was the third time this week the duo had tried to get in touch with you, yet every time you’d give them the same practiced speech, throwing in a few new comments or curses until you hung up and blocked them.

It was becoming routine at this point. Wake up to whatever social media they breached this time, block them, get a text, block them, get a few calls, actually answer one, then block again.

Unfortunately, they went a little off script today and instead of the usual empty words and well wishes, Reo had asked you to meet them today, at the old cafe you and Nagi would frequent. (Reo included because they were a package deal, up to the point you thought you had two boyfriends instead of one).

You rolled over in bed burying your face into one of your cheap pillows. Letting out a sigh of contentment, you nuzzled into it. Until the familiar buzz of your phone snapped you up and out of your bed.

‘2:30. Please show!’

You didn’t know whether you should dress up or dress down. On one hand, you were meeting with very famous football players in a very public setting. On the other hand, you were meeting with Seishro Nagi and Reo Mikage. Your ex-boyfriend and his goonie.

So there you were, sitting at an outside table, drumming your fingers aimlessly. They’re late per usual. By 5 minutes, but with Nagi those five minutes turn to 10, then to 15 until he finally arrives 30 minutes later with a practiced apology

Cocking your head back, you spotted the two men dressed in street clothes. Nagi was tall back then, but somehow his shadow seemed to take up much more space as it loomed over you. And whatever space he couldn't take up, Reo filled becoming a brick wall.

“Sorry, we’re late! We got caught up by some fans”

Likely to prove a point, Reo tilted his sunglasses while Nagi pulled down his hat.

You waved them off, forcing yourself back into your comfortable position as the two sat down in front of you. You were about to speak, but Reo beat you to it. “You have no idea how thankful we- Nagi is to have you show up. Truly”

You hummed, nodding slowly as you eyed the white-haired giant tapping away on his phone. “Ha. I bet he is.” Reo looked to Nagi and sighed.

Pushing out of your chair, you looked down at Reo and the gamer. “This is a waste of time. He hasn't even greeted me, let alone paid attention. Good day”

You mentally patted yourself on the back for getting out before it even began. This had to be some kind of world record right? You bet it wasn't even a minute!

Hearing Reo stutter out excuses for Nagi wasn’t uncommon, but you ignored them this time and were about to walk away from the two leeches when a grip on your wrist stopped you. The grip was like a snake; a boa constrictor as it wrapped around your wrist and stayed there, waiting for your next move. But there would be no next move. Since as much as it’s tight it was big, the hand enveloping your entire wrist with ease, readying itself to gobble you up.

A foolish part of you thought- hoped it was Reo who stopped you. But a peek at the white, creamy hand revealed the truth as you heard a distant ‘GAME OVER!’ It was silent besides the muted electronic music. No one moved, and no one spoke. It was a stalemate.

“It’s rude it ignore people” You popped a vein as Nagi’s bored voice broke the silence. “We aren’t done here” tugging you lightly, you sat back down in your chair, and only then were you released from his iron-clad grip. His shimmering winter eyes held a dangerous glint to them, almost like they were warning you to try that again.

“Hypocrite.” You sneered

Nagi shrugged “I had to finish that match”

Scoffing you crossed your arms “Still second to your fucking games huh?”

“Not at all! I told him he could finish his level in the car- took longer than usual so that’s my fault, sorry y/n!” Reo smiled, rubbing his neck as your eyes narrowed.

Right, and your skin turned to white paint and your eye bags turned to red triangles as your nose became a big red ball, making you boo boo the fool.

“This conversation is important to me. I didn’t want to have any distractions”

“Whatever, fine, I don’t care- why did you ask for me?” You snipped. You wanted to get this over and done with as soon as possible, and these two boozoos seemed completely oblivious to your shaking leg and drumming hands. Too engaged in a silent conversation. They both looked back at you, finally letting you in on their secrets.

“No”

“You don’t even know what we were going to say”

“Your disposition said it all and as flattered as I am that you’re crawling back years after you broke up with me” You pointed to Nagi “And you ghosted me” You pointed to Reo. “I’ve come to terms with my best friend and boyfriend dumping me off the side of a highway. And I’ve healed from it- found new people to call my own” You looked around, unable to keep contact with their hardening stares. “So I'll save you the trouble and cut this thing short”

“You have another boyfriend,” Nagi asked, it coming out more as a statement than a question.

You mentally smacked yourself. Forgetting how he was the silently jealous type.

“That’s not the point Nagi, the point is-“

“Do you have another boyfriend.”

“Ughh no Nagi I don't, there happy?”

“Yes” And you could tell that he was too. If you were animated you bet your face would become red and steam would blow out of your ears.

“Perfect. I want to get back together with you.”

“No”

“But I can finally provide for you. You don’t have to work a day in your life now, just like you wanted”

…Huh

You stared at him, mouth hung open as you stayed silent.

Reo took advantage of that “It was all for you ya’ know, all the long training, over-seas games, press meetings- were all to create a stable image of himself so you both wouldn’t have to work 9-to-5s, so you don’t have to worry about rent, groceries, utility bills, and all the sorts. So you could be spoiled with life's greatest luxuries like we think you should!"

'We?' You'll have to ask about... that later.

“Yet here I am” You paused “Plus he called me a boring burden when he broke up with me so I think it's more for him than me”

They both stayed quiet. Reo’s jaw clenched ever so slightly as he glared at Nagi. Though Nagi was too preoccupied with staring through your very soul.

“Because I know how much you love me, and you would’ve smothered me with it, not letting me focus on my soccer. So I had to break up with you,

for the greater good.”

“For the greater good?”

You chuckled. “I would’ve given you space if you had just told me. Instead, I got a boot to the ass and a ‘bon voyage bitch!’. And besides, if it was just that Reo would have told me to back off, and you know I’m right”

“Well, in your absence he- we realized how much we missed you, your presence, your aura. So we’re here to ask forgiveness and-“

“Cut the shit Reo” You rolled your eyes “How do I know you won’t slap me with the ‘boring’ comment again? That you won’t somehow keep me in your debt til the day I die”

They looked at each other, both finally taking off their hats and glasses before they looked at you again.

“You have our full promise that that will never happen again”

“Good”

You shifted in your sit, eyeing the growing smiles and relaxed brows. You saw a glimpse of hope cross their features like the sun peeking out through cumulonimbus clouds. You got up out of your chair, with an equally light smile.

Ripping them out of their fantasies, their eyes stuck to you as the chair screeched bloody murder.

“Then prove it”

And with that, you walked away.

⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨ bonus ୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹

Reo sighed in frustration. Furrowing his head in his hands as he stared at nagi. “You really had to call them a ‘boring burden.’ Really Nagi?”

Nagi shrugged “They were though, also smother’n me ‘n shit.”

“Yet you turned out to be the real burden when you started mopping about them months after the split.” Reo laughed “How ironic”

Nagi shrugged “I guess I missed them”

“A lot” Reo chimed in, Nagi’s ears started turning red as a signature ‘x’ came across his face.

“If you wanna get them back you’re gonna have to be vulnerable, you're lucky they even agreed (if you could call it that) to give you a slight chance. Better not blow it for the both of us.”

Nagi ignored the rest of Reo’s plan.

Flowers? Chocolates? Big gestures? Blocked out. It was like tunnel vision, bringing him back to the day he broke up with you. Your retreating figure was the only thing he could focus on as a swell of frustration bubbled up in his gut. It was a familiar bubbling feeling he didn’t like.

“Nagi?”

At that moment he vowed to never feel that way again.

𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐘𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢

Well, this was awkward.

What were the odds that you would see your ex-boyfriend and number-one striker in the world, at a company Christmas party. Your, company Christmas party.

It was especially awkward because he doesn’t work here, let alone live in Japan.

He was standing right in front of you, a wobbly smile on his face and a hand rubbing the nape of his neck.

Spinning around to giggled whispers, you were met with your friends staring at you two. Meeting your gaze they dispersed like pigeons.

“Y/n, you alright?”

You turned back to Isagi with a strained smile. “Never better”

You knew he could feel the eyes and hear the whispers around that surrounded you both. The loudest ones were your own: ‘what is Isagi Yoichi doing at the Christmas party? ‘Isn’t he supposed to be in Germany?’ And most important;y- “why”

“Let’s talk outside, yeah?” He whispered, you nodded hesitantly, narrowing your eyes as he smiled. “If you’re thinking I have a knife in my back pocket, I don’t” Your nerves eased a bit.

“I have a gun”

“Isagi!” You heard him chuckle as he put his hand on the small of your waist. Flinching out of his grip, you whipped your head to face him, he was thinking, concentrating. From the scrunch of his nose to the light mumbles that tumbled out of his mouth-

“You better not be trying to meta read me Isagi”

His head snapped up towards yours. His face said it all, you swore the word ‘GUILTY’ was stamped in big bold letters on his forehead.

The walk outside wasn’t as painful as it was quiet. Every time Isagi would try to walk by your side you would slow down, once he slowed down you would speed up. There were sometimes when he would match your abrupt stop perfectly- who were you kidding? After the first 4 times, he kept perfect pace with you.

It had turned into a game. You didn’t even think about how childish this looks, two grown adults playing a game of red light green light, with beaming smiles and choked-out giggles

You were too involved with the game to feel Isagai’s gaze. And he was too focused on your laugh to notice your wondering eyes. Again, you didn’t know who you were kidding as you knew he knew you thought he looked good in that suit. Muscles expand and contract with each step.

Woo wee.

You swore he started flexing on purpose- the smirk he gave you once you caught his gaze made it all too prevalent. the cheeky bastard.

Clearing your throat as Isagi opened the door for you, you thanked him quietly as you felt a gust of cold air hit your face. You gasped at the feeling of Jack Frost’s mischief.

Or more like allegiance “Here, take my coat” “No thanks, it probably costs more than my rent and I wouldn’t want to ruin it” You both knew you were right.

“Please, you're shivering”

“Isagi it’s okay, really"

You didn’t know why you thought that was going to work, as being in a past relationship with Mr.World Wide you should have been more familiar with how stubborn Isagi could be. Once he had a goal in mind, he would do anything in his power to achieve said goal.

Your smile faltered, and you took the coat. Isagi smiled at your defeat.

You were outside the hotel your company rented, it was a Victorian with a modern spin on it. It was beautifully illuminated by fairy lights and decorated with expensive shrubs ‘that's where my bonus went’ you huffed. Ignoring this, you went back to the reason you weren’t inside.

“Why are you here Isagi” You could see his mood dampen, his shoulders slouched and his smile sadden. His eyes met yours, and yet there was a spark in them. You weren’t sure if it was from the determination or the dangling lights.

“I missed you”

You felt a switch flip in you.

“Isagi”

“I know I know, why would you give me another chance after what happened? I know that you’re angry and hurt and I’m sorry… For what happened.”

He looked around the barren street. The muted bass of the party upstairs does little to help the atmosphere.

“I was wrong” He breathed out, and you swore you could see his chest deflate like a balloon.

“Everything I said that night was wrong. Everything I said that night was unacceptable and I wish every day- for the past 2 years that I’d never done it. That I’d just talked with you about how I was feeling, about what was going on in my head.”

He looked up, and like a cue, you felt something on the tip of your nose. It was cold for a moment until it disappeared.

‘Oh you have to be kidding me’, you thought. All December it was cold yet barren. But tonight, this night just happened to conveniently be the first snowfall. And you knew he planned this shit.

“Isagi” Your voice wavered “It means a lot to me that you’re apologizing, believe me,” You fixed the jacket over yourself “But it’s been 2 years… Sod why now? Why disrupt my life now? Why not a year ago? Why now” Your throat felt hoarse like you had just screamed hours ago and were finally trying to talk. It came out scratchy and painfully, giving away all your secrets.

“I want to be honest with you y/n… Because you deserve that much”

Yours cleared your throat “Damn right I do”

“I thought I could do it without you.” Ouch. “I thought I’d be okay without you, that I just needed soccer and my own ego…” He laughed bitterly, looking up at the snow-infested sky. “But I was wrong”

You huffed, patting the snow off your hair. “Let me guess, you want me back?” He nodded meekly.

You nodded thoughtfully, hand rubbing your chin as he kept looking at the night sky until he finally met your eyes.

“You want someone to warm your bed, right? Well, if that’s the case my friend upstairs really likes y-“

“Wait wait wait- no! I don’t want a bed warmer- I want you back!” Either from the lack of a jacket or from the implications of what that meant, Isagi’s face was scarlet as he animatedly denied the statement.

He was too cute for his own good.

“Awfully vain of you Mr.World Wide”

“I- Didn’t I tell you to stop calling me that?”

You shrugged “Didn’t I tell you not to contact me again? Guess we both can’t listen”

It felt nice to share a laugh with Isagi again because god you've missed the way his eyes and nose crinkled, how he threw his head back and let out a boisterous, yet melodic laugh. Though this laugh was more mellow than the ones you remember, this would do….

“Can I ask you something?” He hummed in acknowledgment.

“Why now”

“I already answered that”

“Not exactly… You told me how you were wrong, how you were sorry, how you regretted what you did… but judging from how you worded it, you’ve had these thoughts, these regrets for a while. So why now, today of all days during my companies Christmas part would you show up asking for forgiveness?”

You love him. You’ll always love him. No matter how many days s or years go by you'll love him. But… you can’t, won't. Not again. You won't let him charm you with his fancy jacket, sweet words, or charming smile. You already did once, but you won’t let it happen again.

You can’t.

He stepped closer.

You won’t.

His hand reached out towards you, eyes flickering between you and him. You nodded hesitantly.

“Because I was afraid”

“Bullshit”

“Maybe, maybe not” His hand caressed your cheek. “But all I know this; that I can do better, be better. I've evolved, and grown up all without you so I can treat you like a god, I'll build Olympus with my bare hands if you'd let me.”

He popped your bubble. He cracked the glass house you build. He was trying to replace the ghost he left.

It took everything in you to gently grab his hand and bring it back to his side. Staring up into those big beautiful eyes, it took you all your power to smile instead of swoon. “Only if you prove it to me” As quick as lighting, you stood up on your tippy toes and planted a warm, soft kiss on his cheek, before retreating inside to rejoin the party.

Chuckling softly, he traced the lingering warmth on his cheek. His phone exploded in a series of buzzes in his pocket. And upon checking it he saw his numerous friends sending him either thumbs-ups or some kind of celebratory text/ emoji.

He looked back towards the door with a smirk “Just wait y/n, I’ll show you how much you mean to me. And I’ll never let you go.”

woah isagi… chill😬

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justinspoliticalcorner · 1 month

Text

Mary L. Trump at The Good in Us Substack:

Normally, my issue with the corporate media is their failure to shine a light on stories that matter. But in this case, it seems some segments of the corporate media, primarily Fox, is hellbent on helping Donald interfere with his trial through jury intimidation. It’s a disturbing reality that we must confront. Last night, Donald Trump posted the following on social media: “They are catching undercover liberal activists lying to the judge,” Jesse Watters.

Lawyers and legal analysts like Ryan Goodman and Andrew Weissman made it clear that this was a serious breach, the most serious to date, of Judge Merchan’s gag order – one that should be dressed immediately. The fact that Donald was quoting somebody else is irrelevant. This seemed to be a blatant case of jury tampering, especially since, at the time of this was posted, five jurors and all six alternates remained to be chosen. I fully expected today’s proceedings to begin with the judge announcing that the so-called Sandoval hearing, which he originally scheduled, would be held today before any other court business. This seemed to be a reasonable assumption considering the purpose of that hearing was so the judge can rule on the prosecution’s contention that Donald should be held in contempt and sanctioned accordingly.

Juror Number 2 dismissed

It’s not uncommon for a juror to be chosen and subsequently let go during the selection process. That was the case with Juror Four after the prosecution discovered the man may have been untruthful in some of his answers. Juror Two’s circumstances were different. She was excused after telling the court that she’d become concerned that her identity might be discovered after her family and friends questioned her about her possible involvement in the trial following media coverage. The fact that the judge felt the need to keep the identities of jurors anonymous is a damning indictment of the criminal defendant. And clearly the jurors understand the inherent danger of being seated on this jury.

To put this in perspective, my friend and former U.S. Attorney, Joyce White Vance explained, “Typically, you would only see that happen in a case involving violent organized crime.” Following the juror’s feedback, Judge Merchan reprimanded the press for reporting far too much information about the jurors. [Out of an abundance of caution, I deleted the section about the jurors from last night’s post.]

[...] In a disturbing display of media influence, Fox host Jesse Watters went through the list of jurors, with identifying characteristics like employment, gender, place of residence, and commented on each one.

Watters then singled out any jurors who didn’t align with his idea of what a juror should be (pro-Donald) and cast doubt on their ability to be fair and impartial. This is not just unethical, it’s dangerous. Fox, on Donald’s behalf, is actively helping Donald create an atmosphere of fear among the jurors. In a just world, Watters would be fired for his irresponsible behavior, but Fox has no interest in justice. Consider what Josh Kovensky of Talking Points Memo, pointed out: “Instead of operating within the process of jury selection, which assumes that people are capable of setting aside whatever political beliefs or biases they may have in order to render a good faith judgment on the evidence, it casts the assumptions underlying that process as Trump’s enemy to be defeated, implying that the jurors themselves are incapable of both being impartial in their judgment of him and participating in a political system in which he is a main actor.”

[...]

Donald amplifies Fox, scares a juror, and breaks his gag order

So far, here’s the pattern: A Fox personality attacks the judge or jury, and then Donald shares it on Truth Social as a way to give himself plausible deniability: He can distance himself from the quote by saying it doesn’t represent what he actually believes. This is exactly what he did last night when he quoted Jesse Watters. Regardless of Donald’s attempts to pretend otherwise, this is a clear violation of his gag order and shows a blatant disregard for the legal process. He needs to be punished or this will spiral out of control quickly. We’re already seeing that his disrespectful behavior in the courtroom and flouting of norms — like refusing to stand when the prospective jurors enter the room or using his phone when nobody else is —has already gone too far. The gag order was imposed to prevent Donald from publicly speaking about witnesses, jurors, court staff and their families outside of the courtroom. Donald has run out of chances and his downfall will be of his own making.

[...]

Judge Merchan must lay the smackdown on Donald

Prosecutors have accused Donald of violating the court-imposed gag order SEVEN times since the commencement of the trial. And they will have a chance to make the case for Donald to be held accountable during a hearing next week. They have pointed to public statements and social media posts made by Donald over the past few days as evidence of these violations. They have described the situation as “ridiculous” and have called for it to stop, expressing frustration over Donald’s repeated breaches of the order. Former federal prosecutor Shannon Wu has now called on Merchan to strengthen the gag order to any communication about the trial beyond Donald saying he’s innocent and plans to defend himself. At the very least, Judge Merchan needs to be unequivocal in telling Donald and defense counsel that enough is enough. The repeated violations of the gag order and Donald’s attempts to interfere with the trial warrant serious repercussions. He cannot keep getting away with it.

Mary L. Trump writes in her Substack on how right-wing media outlets (esp. Fox's Jesse Watters) and Donald Trump are conducting witness tampering on the jury for the Trump falsification of business records trial. Trump Trial

#Jury Tampering #Witness Tampering #Donald Trump #Jesse Watters #People of New York v. Trump #Donald Trump Trial #Juan Manuel Merchan #Mary L. Trump #Mary Trump

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buckets-and-trees · 1 year

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On this fine Sunday morning, enjoy the thot of Bucky and Ari waking you up too early, but in a way that you can't complain about (you literally can't complain since something's in your mouth....)

To wake up to this ask? Have you no compassion on this the Lord’s day of rest?

No rest for the wicked on Sinday though…

So how about just a little drabble in the sheets?

Word Count: 500

Content/Warnings: mmf threesome, implied Somnophilia, fingering (mouth, vaginal, anal), light cumplay

You moan, stirring from sleep, but then you’re jolted from sleep and your eyes fly open, slight panic rising when you register your mouth is filled with two fingers, and you feel like you can’t breathe.

“Shh, doll,” Bucky’s deep voice the first thing for your brain to process, “close those lips and breathe through your nose.”

“And don’t let your pretty little head start to think,” Ari murmurs in your ear, his body pressed up against your back. “We finally broke you last night. Didn’t think we’d wait to play with our pretty girl again, did you?”

Ari brings one of his hands up to hold and caress your throat while Bucky begins to stroke his fingers slowly over your tongue. You whimper and close your eyes again. It’s too early to see anything yet in the dimmest traces of dawn nudging into the room. But you don’t need to do anything other than give your body over to these two men who were relentless in getting you between them and proved to be insatiable once they’d conquered you.

And you had tried to evade them for too long. Unable to move between them now, part of you wondered why. But a small whisper in the back of your mind still prodded around the edges of the pleasure they were already plying to your body that it was because you were certain they would consume you between them.

Bucky’s thigh was already wedged between your legs, opening you up, and with how wet you were with Ari’s fingers delving between and along your slick folds, you had no idea how long they’d been manipulating your body this morning.

Removing his fingers from your tongue, Bucky presses closer, chest to naked chest, laps at the drool that’s spilled out of your mouth at his ministration, and covers your lips with his, kissing you with unsatisfied hunger. His wet fingers join Ari’s at your cunt, and you writhe in pleasure, basking in the bliss.

But it was only a moment. They had other plans.

Ari’s fingers draw long strokes through your slick from your clit down to your hole, up and down, working in tandem with Bucky, and then he draws them further back, splitting between your ass cheeks and nudging at your tight puckered hole.

You yelp in surprise, turning your head abruptly to escape Bucky’s lips. “No, I’ve never-“ you protest.

“You will,” Ari growls into your neck. He presses his finger slowly but determinedly into your anus, only just enough to breach.

You gasp at the feeling.

Bucky mouths hot, wet kisses along your jaw. “We will only stop if you say the safe word.”

“You remember your word, right, Baby?” Ari prompts. His finger coaxes gently but insistently right there inside the entrance of your tight virgin hole.

You whimper and nod.

He squeezes at your neck. “Gotta hear it for sure.”

“Crimson,” you keen, both of your hands gripping Bucky’s shoulders.

“Good girl.”

“Now we’ll wreck you,” Ari promises, and he presses his finger further in.

#aspen asks #eva/biteofcherry #aspen wrote something #have you no compassion for my poor nerves #ari levinson smut #Ari Levinson x reader x Bucky Barnes #female reader #Bucky Barnes x reader x Ari Levinson #ari levinson x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader

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hotchfiles · 4 months

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [GLASS TIES] ❞

request by lovely anon who loves isaac and pain. pairing: isaac lahey x reader. summary: isaac and you share the perfect summer fling. those ties don't last when summer ends. content warnings: mentions of sex and death. there's like a huge teen wolf spoiler but i mean the show is over for years now. word count: 1,4k+

working during summer wasn't your ideal way to enjoy the warm days and freedom from school work, unfortunately the city library needed help and you needed all the extra crap possible to make your resume look nice, full and interesting for colleges, so you'd spend three afternoons a week helping nerdy teens and old ladies find the books they wanted, register it as they borrowed it and more recently, read to a group of children once a week.

it wasn't the worst job, it could be quite fun... but it was mostly just silence, quietness and a bit of boredom, you enjoyed having access to that many books, but even you got tired of reading after a while, so when the most beautiful guy you've ever seen waited for you to notice him, you were busy laughing at your phone like an idiot.

and he could've faked a cough or anything of the sort to call you out, but instead he decided to simply lean down and insert his head in between your face and your phone, looking directly at you as he did so and making you screech from the scare. "oh my god, what're you doing?"

"getting your lazy ass back to work, apparently." he's nonchalant, his smirk makes him annoyingly handsome, and you'd remember those eyes and those curls anywhere.

isaac lahey, a year older than you, blue eyes, golden curly locks, greek god possibly. you blinked quickly and shook your head, so nervous you couldn't even think of a comeback to his sneaky comment. "so-sorry, do you need help?"

"need a book."

"good, we have some of those here, yes." you found your breach to tease him and you took it without even thinking, trying not to panic as the words left your mouth. isaac enjoyed it though, laughing and nodding along.

"sure, yeah, sorry. werewolves, uh, the less... fictional the better." you're about the laugh it off, yeah right. but he was completely serious, if only a bit concerned about having to ask for those.

you nodded and thought for a minute, putting up key words on the system to see if you could find anything. "we have some really old ones in our more special section, but they can't leave the building. also i wouldn't call them non fictional... i mean, werewolves right?" you shrug, chuckling lightly and he's oh, extremely amused, genuine laughing and you're not sure why. "but uh... they're quite old and kinda damaged, so we don't really know what the purpose of it was."

you take him to the back of the library and shows him the two books you mentioned, they are big, old and dusty and isaac has the time of his laughing laughing at how much you were sneezing back there. "glad you're having fun, but lower your voice, funny boy." you whisper shaking your head disapprovingly, but your smile was too difficult to hide.

you go back to the reception after telling him the library rules again, thinking that would probably be it; but it wasn't.

he took the books to where you were working, taking the closest table to you. he would spend minutes on end just reading, looking beautifully focused, but then he would glance at you and catch you staring at him, isaac would then smile, tell you to go back to work as you told him to keep his voice down.

it was the most fun you had since the summer started.

isaac went back to the library every day after that, shamelessly leaving if you weren't working until he memorized the days you would be there. he truly wasn't much of a library guy, but he enjoyed spending time with you there. it was quiet, much quieter than his mind and his life, but still, it wasn't boring, at least not for him.

after the first week the books didn't matter, not giving him much more information for what he was going through, making you blush though, that mattered a lot and he noticed he was quite good at it.

he was getting used to having girls looking at him more, but something in you stood out. he figured out soon it was simply the fact you've been secretly glancing at him even before he changed. turned.

you would make comments as he walked you home after your shift ended, and he knew you didn't even notice how endearing it was or how much of a tell it was, so not a bike guy anymore? or you gained some weight, right? like, not in a bad way, not that gaining weight is bad, you're just... stronger now.

isaac felt connected to you somehow because of that, you had no idea of what he was, or how bad his life was before, but still, you liked him even then, even when he was broken and you didn't even know him. knowing someone paid some attention to him back then gives him conflicted feelings, but most of them are good. warm. tender.

you make him feel soft. and normal. and wanted. and he knows he could've made his move on you much sooner, but oh, he enjoyed the pining, the blushing, the way you bit your lower lip and tucked your hair behind your ear whenever he complimented you. he enjoyed the teasing too much.

after he kissed your lips for the first time though, he figured out what he enjoyed more than the teasing.

you.

being a werewolf in a freak city meant he didn't always have the amount of time he wished he had to spend with you. but that summer, all the time he had at his dispose was spent with you. calling you, texting you, working with you.

he would take you to late night movies, bowling and ice cream, so terribly charming even when he awkwardly ended up meeting your mom after sneaking in and cuddling with you all night, she adored him. gave him a pass to sleep over as long as he didn't sneak in and the door to your room was always open.

you both followed the rules strictly, but your mom wasn't a light sleeper, so what started with you guiding his hand down your pants ended up with him taking your virginity. slowly, quietly, tenderly. he locked eyes with you and didn't glance away for one second that night. told you words that were probably too soon to be said.

the three words left your lips like a secret, matching his.

things changed when summer ended, school coming at you in full speed.

and maybe it was your fault, with all ap classes, extracurricular, volunteer works you put yourself through, or maybe it was the naivety of not asking what you two were, of not labeling what you both shared before the outside world came into play.

or maybe it was isaac's fault, and the way his outspoken personality sometimes served as a shield to his secretive actions. whatever it really was, you would barely see each other at school, each with your own little friend group, different classes, you were lucky to catch him in the hallways, where he would smile at you and touch your hand lightly as if you two were a secret.

were you? not exactly, but isaac wanted to keep you away from the mess, away from the killing, the blood, the fear. he didn't want to taint what you both had, so the more you didn't have time, the more he got away from you, slipped from your fingers.

and before you could even fight it, try anything to keep him, there was allison.

laughing with him, touching his arms, knowing things about him you would never dream about, you could see it, even from afar, the eyes of two people who connected.

confidants.

it broke you. but you couldn't do anything about it, you felt like it was your fault, as if your oh so busy academic life pushed him away. you let him go, no more texts, no more looking for a glance and a soft touch pass the hallways.

for weeks it was almost like it never happened, like your life was ever the same, like it didn't change past summer. of course you would go through the texts you shared from time to time, shed a few tears and pretend to get over it. and it worked.

until he was at your door sobbing. bloody. completely lost.

allison was dead. and nothing would ever be the same again.

#isaac lahey imagines #isaac lahey scenario #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey x you #isaac lahey x y/n #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf scenario #isaac x reader #isaac x you #isaac x y/n #reqs!#i kinda hate it but #IT IS WHAT IT IS

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