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#this was a big experiment for me and the colors look so different between my devices help
twstinginthewind · 3 months
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One more before I make myself go to bed.
I wanted to make something moody and romantic for the "rain" prompt, which very much suits the occasionally stormy relationship between my gal Joker and @twst-the-night-away's fellow Sparky.
I don't think they miss the umbrella, do you?
(and as always, twst friends and moots - just lemme know if my OCs can give yours a lil smoocharoo; I'd love to include your darlings as well!)
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brightsuzaku · 5 months
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i am attempting to switch to firefox in earnest from the chromium-based vivaldi and i am just
having a time of it
Vivaldi is EXTREMELY customizable with the ability to customize appearance, colors, the roundedness of tab edges, interface zoom, etc, etc, as well as natively having the ability to group tabs together
ON ONE HAND, Vivaldi is chromium and may eventually get screwed over by Google's bullshit, but on the other hand... I switched from Firefox to Vivaldi because of all of its features for fine-tuning my browsing experience and UI, and also because Firefox was getting kinda bloaty on my previous desktop build.
on the other hand, maybe with the power of extensions I can get back to some kind of similar functionality, I'm just going to miss having Nice Things out of the box without needing extensions.
I swapped out from Firefox for accessibility and customizability purposes, and now it keeps sounding like the Big G won't let me have Nice Things. I'll keep Vivaldi around just in case they do something with the browser to help combat that, but I'm loading my open tabs and versions of my extensions on Vivaldi over to Firefox as a safety net.
(I really don't want to switch from Vivaldi and I just feel so extremely gloomy when another one of those scary reblogs about Chrome come back up, because it's not Chrome per se, but Big G could just make everything worse.)
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fairyysoup · 3 months
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his hands
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pairing(s): hairdresser!eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: How do you make getting a haircut an erotic experience? You have Eddie Munson as your hairdresser, of course.
cw: explicit, smut, unprotected piv sex, mirror sex, workplace sex, hand kink, choking, dumbification, dom!eddie, touch-starved!reader, semi-sort-of subspace happenings, referring to genitals with gendered pronouns, slight body worship, getting weirdly horny over a head massage, sexual tension, negative self talk, hair cut/style mentioned but no description of hair color/type, the aftercare is the haircut lol, implied 90s au, eddie's like 30, reader's age unspecified, eddie is employee of the month in my heart, not proofread, no beta we die like men
a/n: this is weird. and came from an interesting experience i had at the hair salon. and yes that is corpse's hand in that pic i didn't want to spend all day looking for a header pic shut up shut up shut up
ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI
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Your hands twitch on the copy of Elle magazine in your lap. The familiar waiting area of your local salon has new furniture, which still smells a bit like the cellophane it came wrapped in, and hasn’t been worn out by patrons just yet. You’d asked for your usual stylist, Melissa. Except, you haven’t been here in so long, and apparently Melissa doesn’t work here anymore. 
“We have a new stylist in her place,” the greeter at the front desk told you kindly. “I could fit you in if you’d like that same station?” 
The station doesn’t matter to you; they all look the same and have the same tools. Obviously, when it comes to getting your hair cut, the stylist makes the difference. But, since you’re a couple months too late to catch up with Melissa, a new stylist is who you’ll be working with. 
The PA still plays some sort of weird pop-rock fusion that mixes Nat King Cole with Billy Idol, but you just try to focus on it to keep your leg from bouncing. You always get anxious like this when you come in for an appointment, even though you always tell yourself the same thing. It’s just hair. If you don’t like it, it’ll grow back. Or, if worst comes to worst, you could always shave it.
You hear your name being called, and you look up to the person who’d just approached the waiting area around the partition that blocks off the styling area. You blink, your mind going fuzzy as you try to make sense of what you see.
“Looks like I’ll be cutting your hair today,” the man standing at the end of the row of chairs says, with a grin that puts boyish dimples on his cheeks. “I’m Eddie.”
Eddie the Hairdresser is a bit more than you can handle right now. Between his long, curly hair, and the shirt he wears that gives you a view of the tattoos crawling up his arms, you think your knees might already be made out of jelly as you try to stand. But then he sticks out his hand for you to shake, and he’s wearing big, chunky rings that glint in the light, and you think you might swoon like a Victorian damsel.
“I’m, uh–” you begin intelligently, as you fit your hand into his big one. He squeezes just the tiniest bit and smirks at you. “I– I’m trying to, uh–”
“First time?” Eddie asks you with a tilt of his head. His brown eyes crease at the edges with mirth.
“Oh, um, no,” you mutter, looking everywhere but at his dimples. He has a tattoo on his neck of a dragon. You stare at it for a moment too long. “I used to come and see Melissa, forever ago.” 
“Oh! Yeah, Melissa was great. She trained me,” Eddie starts jabbering as he tilts his head and leads you around the partition. You’re met with the smell of hairspray and the sound of blow dryers getting louder. “She’s a hard act to follow, but I hope I can do well enough. Let’s get you started with a wash, hm?” 
You smile as he winks at you conspiratorially. You always feel a little bit awkward as you sit in the chair for the wash sinks, but Eddie ushers you into it with a little wave of his hand and gently– more gently than you can remember even Melissa being– lifts the ends of your hair and places a soft towel around your shoulders.
“What kept you away all this time?” Eddie asks pleasantly as he tests the water temperature. “Melissa’s been gone for a while.”
“Yeah, I, uh, I was working a lot,” you stumble into an explanation, your cheeks heating up a bit. It’s hard not to feel like you need to repent for not coming in to get a trim every month. “Last time I came in, I got my hair cut really short, so it wasn’t like I needed to come in for a trim for a long time, and by the time I really needed one it was long enough that I could do it myself… so, I just kept doing that.”
“So, what are we doing today?” Eddie inquires as his fingertips brush along your temples to tuck your hair back behind your ears and into the wash basin. With gentle prompting, he tilts your head back into the bin and begins to wet the ends of your hair.
“I figured it’s time I go short again,” you tell him, more confident than you really feel about it. It was a split second decision, one that you made because the reflection in the mirror was looking back at you with such a dead expression that you decided you needed a change in a bad way. For a lighter note, you supplement, “I’m tired of brushing tangles out of my hair every morning, and the other day I had a whole bird’s nest at the back of my neck, y’know.”
“Pssh, I know all about tangles. You saw my hair,” Eddie chuckles as the lukewarm water touches your scalp. Goosebumps rise on your arms while he rambles on, “I have to comb my hair wet or else I look like I got electrocuted. I never used to care about that sort of thing before I went to school for this, but once you start learning about proper treatment it’s kind of hard to ignore. I used to wash my hair with bar soap. Dry as hell, no conditioner. I’m surprised I got it long to begin with.” 
You find yourself smiling just thinking about it. “Bar soap? With those curls?”
“Don’t tell anyone, my reputation will be ruined,” Eddie leans down and whispers to you while he reaches for a bottle of shampoo. You hear a crack of a bottle cap, and then his hands are in your hair again, working the sweet smelling soap into your roots. “I’m trying to get employee of the month, but they’re never gonna give it to me if they know I used to sabotage my own hair with Irish Spring.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” you tell him sweetly, but you’re barely paying attention to his words anymore. His fingers are pressing into areas on your head that haven’t had a proper massage in forever, and months of tension headaches are being brought to the forefront of your mind. 
You never consider how oddly intimate having someone wash your hair is until you’re in the thick of it. Eddie’s thumbs massage circles into your occipitals with just a perfect amount of pressure, and the muscles down the back of your neck slowly melt and relax, moving with the swell of his fingertips. You suddenly feel very relaxed and very sleepy, and your eyelids drift closed as Eddie’s thumbs trace the line of your skull up to your hairline.
It even takes a moment for you to tune into the fact that he’s humming. Under his breath, he’s singing along to the notes of the song on the PA. He’s doing it in such a way that you’re sure he’s not even aware of it, himself, and you’d comment on it if you weren’t afraid that you’d embarrass him. His fingers are massaging circles around your temples now, and while you’re trying to focus on the sound of him harmonizing with the music, your mind is again trying to distract you with the feeling developing at the base of your spine. A ticklish, warm feeling spreads between your hips, disrupting the lull you find yourself in and forcing you to blink your eyes open. 
Oh, no. We’re not doing that right now.
You can’t say you’re surprised that this is your response. His hands are all over your head and you haven’t been touched by anyone in… well, a very long time, to say the least. You’re probably a little starved for it, all things considered. But this is really the wrong time and place to be getting turned on by a guy’s touch.
You shift in your seat, trying not to be too obvious about it when Eddie pulls his hands away and begins rinsing your hair again. Crossing your legs would be a dead giveaway, but the warm feeling is turning into a subtle throb between your legs, and Eddie’s hands are back on your head, now gently combing the conditioner through the length of your hair as though he’s petting you.
After a few torturous minutes of trying to ignore the blooming arousal deep in your gut, Eddie cuts the water and wraps your hair in the towel to secure it. 
“Now comes the hard part,” Eddie says, probably not meaning to make it sound so suggestive, but your mind seems to be taking its sweet time loitering in the gutter. 
You stare dazedly up at the ceiling. Now is the hard part?
Eddie leads you to what used to be Melissa’s station, and swings the swivel chair around for you with a flourish. “Step into my office, sweetheart. I’ll get you all dressed up in a sexy robe and everything.” 
You stifle a giggle as you slide into the seat. His “office” is one table in a row of other tables, and two feet away an older woman is getting her hair bleached by a girl with an undercut. As Eddie spins you around, the stylist shoots him a look. 
“He’s a shameless flirt,” she tells you, making eye contact with you in the mirror. Eddie lays a smock across your front and buttons it at the back of your neck.
“I’ll have you know, I’ve been minding my manners very well,” Eddie huffs with feigned indignation as he unwraps your hair and tosses the towel onto the table in front of you. He still winks at you in the mirror when he leans around you to pick up a comb. “So far.”
You can’t help the way that your jaw clenches. He’s really not going to make this easy on you. You wonder if he knows where your mind has been for the last ten minutes.
Eddie moves around to the back of your chair and presses on a lever to raise it up, but nothing happens. 
“Dammit,” Eddie curses under his breath, and turns to his coworker, who’s still loading tinfoil into the woman’s hair until she looks like something from Close Encounters. “I can’t believe you gave me the crap chair.”
“Early birds get the good chairs,” the stylist replies. 
Eddie sighs and turns back to you, and finds you looking at him curiously in the mirror. “This is the only broken chair in the whole salon, and everyone hates it, so it tends to move around. You never know if you’ll get the crap chair.”
“That’s sabotage,” you giggle.
“I know! So I have to bend down to style you, I’m sorry.”
“I think I can handle it.” You watch him give you a look in the mirror that makes you shift in your seat again. 
“So,” he begins, looking down at your head as he begins detangling your hair. “We’re going short?”
“That’s the plan,” you say with a puff of your chest. Please, god, don’t let it be horrible. 
“How short?” he prompts, eyeing you in the mirror. “Shoulder length? Close cropped?”
You reach up a slightly shaky hand and pinch the length that you want between two fingers. “Here’s good.”
Eddie nods, looking somewhat pleased. “Are we doing layers?”
“Yeah, I think layers would be good for the long term.” 
“Gives you more flexibility,” he agrees. He picks up a pair of scissors and begins measuring out the length that you want. “I’ll start with the length and then we’ll move to bangs, all right?” 
“That… sounds good.” You’re temporarily discombobulated by Eddie taking the sides of your head and tilting your head down just the slightest bit. 
“Stay just like that for me, okay?” he says quietly.
You blink down at the table in front of you, feeling your mouth go dry. “No problem.” Your hands nervously twitch beneath the cover of the smock across your body.
He goes back to humming along with the music on the PA, and you don’t have the heart to interrupt him. You’re trying to focus on anything but the nerves in your system and the way his touch keeps making you want to jump out of your seat.
After a moment, he stops humming and dusts a bit of hair off of your shoulder. “There we go. Good girl.” 
You blink up at Eddie in the mirror, and then see the transformation from long hair to short on your head. 
“How does it feel?” Eddie asks, leaning down to pinch the ends of the front and measure the evenness of the length. You stare at his fingers, and the tattoo of a bat just above his thumb on his left hand.
“Ten pounds lighter,” you joke. It feels like you’ve swallowed a lump of hot coal, but he doesn’t need to know that. Eddie grins, and his dimples make a glorious reappearance. 
“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmurs, and again positions your head where he wants it, staring directly forward. “Honestly, even if you wanted to stop here, it would suit you. I don’t think there’s a way to make you look bad, sweetheart.”
“You’ve never seen me with a hangover,” you scoff, trying to ignore how your heart skips a beat. 
Eddie smirks at you in the mirror while he starts working on giving your hair layers. “My guess is that you still look just as cute, but with a bit more of a grumpy look around here.” He gestures to your brow with one finger, and reaches over to set aside the texturizing scissors. 
“So, what I’m hearing is, you think I’m cute?” you say, still trying to play up the confidence that you don’t really have. Your hand squeezes your thigh under the smock you wear, your nails digging in for purchase.
“No, I think you’re gorgeous,” Eddie says swiftly, like it’s just a matter of fact. “But, I think you’d also be cute when you’re hungover. Plus, with this hair, you’d probably look all unkempt and I love the mental image that’s creating.”
His hands fluff the layers that he’s put into your hair, ruffling them gently and carding his fingers through them to measure their length. You’re sure that he’s not aware of the moon-eyed look you’re giving him in the mirror. 
Except, then he moves around you to start working on your bangs, and the smirk that comes across his face when he looks down at yours is enough to make you lose your composure. He knows everything that’s going on in your head, you’re sure of it. 
Cocky bastard.  
“I like your tattoos,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear over the music and the sounds of blow dryers all around you. He’s face to face with you, so close that you can count the freckles on his pale face.
Eddie’s eyes light up. “Yeah? What about ‘em?” 
“Well,” you lick your lips, your eyes flicking down to the one on his neck, and the one peeking out of his collar. “They’re colorful, and they look like you put a lot of thought into picking out each one. They’re pretty.”
“Hmm. You flatter me,” he remarks, trying to hide his grin and failing. If you look closely, there’s just the slightest pink tint to his cheeks that wasn’t there before. He finishes trimming your bangs, and just before he stands up, he chucks you lightly under the chin. “Keep it up and you might get a freebie.”
A free what? You’re imagining he means some sort of a free hair wash or something, but you can’t keep your mind from going to unprecedented places. 
“All right. Bear with me, I’m gonna blow dry you now.” He turns your chair away from the mirror to get you a bit closer to the blow dryer, and for a few minutes, there’s a lull in the conversation. 
Then, all at once, the blow dryer shuts off, and Eddie leans down towards you. “Ready, sweetheart?”
“Eddie, you’re gonna make me nervous.”
“Well, we don’t want that.” You just barely turn your head to look at him; just enough that your noses barely brush. You steal a breath that comes from his mouth, and then, Eddie turns you to the mirror. “Like I said,” he murmurs, “There’s not a way to make you look bad.”
“Holy shit,” you breathe. And holy shit is right– he’s done a complete number on you. Your hair is voluminous, framing your face in a way that you haven’t seen it before.  
“What do you think?” he asks, and for a moment, you think it’s a rhetorical question.
“I think you’re way better than Melissa,” you tell him, once you realize that it’s not rhetorical and he’s really asking you what you think. You’re sure that he’d make adjustments if you needed, but you don’t need him to. He’s read you like a book. He’s made you look better than you could ever have hoped for. 
“I’m gonna need that in writing,” he tells you, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen. “For employee of the month, and all.”
“Tell me where to sign.”
He jerks his head, and all at once the fog lifts. You follow him to the front desk like a lost puppy, feeling like you don’t actually want to leave. You want to sit in his chair while he cuts your hair until you have none left. You want to keep his attention on you and stare at his smile, his hair, his eyes, his tattoos, for the rest of time. 
“I look forward to next time, princess,” he tells you, but you’re hyperfocused on the touch of his hand to your lower back. 
You watch him telling something to the girl at the front desk, his hand wrapped around the edge of the table and distracting you for the umpteenth time. You watch his silver rings glint in the light, and you think about them weaving through your hair; you think about his fingers and how they’d feel on places besides your head.
“So, when did you want to schedule an appointment?” 
You blink a few times, and in a dazed glow you come back to where you are. At the front desk. Paying for your haircut. “Sorry, what?” 
“The… next appointment? For your trim?” The secretary tilts her head, smiling at you kindly. “When did you want to come in?”
“Oh,” you murmur, looking down at the keyboard that she’s typing on. Eddie has disappeared back around the partition with a sweet smile and a wave cast in your direction. You just want him to come back again. “What would you suggest? Y’know, for this kind of a cut?”
“Hmm,” the girl hums, and sizes you up. Not in a way that makes you doubt yourself, but in a way that tells you she’s taking your question seriously. “Probably about four weeks. See if the length is something you’re happy with?” 
“Great. Four weeks from now. With Eddie.” You peer down at the rack of business cards on the deck, and pick up the one farthest to the right. 
Eddie Munson, Stylist. Set an appointment today!
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By four weeks, your hair has already reached your shoulders, and the ease of maintenance is starting to wear off. When you get a call reminding you about your appointment with Eddie, your head reels with the knowledge that you’ll see him again.
You calmly assert to yourself that this time, there will be no mooning over him. He’s just your hairdresser. You figure he just has a job to do, tips to earn, and so on. You don’t know if he’s available, you don’t know if he’s single or if he even likes you the way that you like him. You don’t know anything about him, really.
False. You know that he used to wash his hair with bar soap.
You snicker to yourself as you sit in the waiting area yet again. The only available slot for him today was 6:30; pretty close to closing time, but for a Wednesday you figured it was best for you to come late, since you’d have time to get yourself together after work.
You’ve never been in the salon so late. It’s getting dark outside, and the overhead lights cast a semi-yellow glow around the waiting area. Business is dying down now. Not as many people love the idea of getting their hair cut so late, you suppose, but it was either this or wait another week to get an appointment with Eddie, and with the rate that your hair is growing, you’d probably be going insane by then.
“Hey, you,” Eddie says, popping his head around the partition with a grin that makes you nearly melt in your seat. His curly hair hangs in a curtain out in midair, and his long neck stretches out for you to take a gander at. “Just couldn’t stay away, huh?”
You smile at him. “Well, you’re the only person I trust with my head.”
What the fuck did you just say?
Eddie smirks, glowing pink around the ears. “I’ll keep that in mind, princess. Let me clean up my station real quick and I’ll getcha goin’, all right?”
You swallow back the lump in your throat. “Yeah, sure, no worries.”
When Eddie disappears again, you slide down in your seat and clap your hand across your eyes. You’re sort of glad that nobody was in the waiting room to see that ridiculous exchange, but you still have to sit with your embarrassment while Eddie cuts your hair. Again.
There will be no pining. There will be no getting weirdly turned on by him washing your hair. Nope, not happening this time.
This time, when Eddie ushers you back behind the partition, there’s only one two other stylists who are there cleaning their stations. The PA has been turned way down, so you can barely register what it’s playing at all.
“You actually came at a good time,” Eddie tells you as you trail after him toward the wash station. “You’re the last person for the night, so I can really take my time with you.”
“O-oh.. really?” You beat back your perverted thoughts with a stick. “To do what?”
“Oh, y’know,” Eddie shrugs as he lays a towel around your shoulders again, just as gentle as he was the last time. “We could do something totally crazy. Who knows what’ll happen?”
His voice is animated, pleasantly filling the empty space where your thoughts might become too much if you let them wander. 
Over the past month, after you’d recovered from your last meeting with Eddie, and as you were preparing for this one, you came up with a few things that you could ask him about– just to keep your mind from going to places you didn’t want them to. To save yourself the embarrassment and the ordeal of having to play whack-a-mole with your libido, and all. 
“Did you get employee of the month?” you begin with.
Eddie laughs, and then sighs. “No, our manicurist got it. I’ll get it this time, I just gotta stay on my A-game.” His blunt nails rake your hair away from your forehead and temples, and a lukewarm stream of water hits the crown of your skull.
You nearly want to jump out of your skin at the feeling. “Was it because they gave you the crap chair too many times?”
“Probably. But I got here early today, so the good news is you don’t have to sit in the crap chair this time.” 
“Aww, I kind of liked the crap chair. Kept me grounded.” You hear him huff a laugh as he starts lathering shampoo through your hair. Trying to keep your mind running so you don’t focus too hard on how good his rings feel scraping against your scalp, you ask, “How’d you get into this line of work?”
“Honestly, it’s kind of a weird story,” Eddie starts, beginning to massage his fingertips into your skull in a way that makes your toes curl in your shoes. You tighten your hands on the arms of your chair and take a deep breath. “So, it took me three tries to graduate high school, right? I was terrible at it. And, y’know, I figured I’d only end up working in a garage or something for the rest of my life. But I was cutting my mane all on my own, and eventually I started cutting my friends’ hair too, because they were all in college and it’s cheaper than going to a salon. I mean–” he chuckles, and begins rinsing your hair– “believe me. I know all about it. And it just came to me really easily, ‘cause I used to be great at drawing and crafting and stuff. And it’s kind of the same thing– once you learn the medium, it’s smooth sailing from there.”
The salon has gone eerily quiet, and by the time Eddie wraps your head and sits you up, you realize that the other stylists have gone, and you and Eddie are the last people in the building. You’d be a little nervous about it, but you got Eddie on a roll, and honestly, he makes it so easy to listen to him.
“Anyways, one day my friend Robin says to me, ‘You should totally get your credential for this,’ and I said, ‘You have to go to school for this shit?’” You blow a raspberry of a laugh, no longer feeling anxious as he sits you down on his not-crap styling chair. He drapes a smock over you, and cracks a grin at you in the mirror. “I know! So, I’ve never been great at school, and I can’t afford to pay for beauty school tuition on the pay I was making at the time, so my friends… they pooled together some money to at least pay for my first semester. And then– get this– I got on the fucking Dean’s list.”
“No way.”
“I did! Yours truly!” He does a little bow, and while you’re still giggling, he begins detangling your hair. “So, I got grants. And I finished top of my class, because as it turns out, when you don’t hate what you’re studying it’s really easy to do well. I got my certification framed and everything. Show that to my damn high school principal.” He shakes his head, but the smile is still on his face when he says, “But now I just have to get that fucking employee of the month.” 
“Anything I can do to help?” you offer, admiring his face in the mirror again without even realizing you’re doing it. You love seeing him grin, showing off his dimples and the smile lines around his eyes.
“Oh, you know,” he shrugs with a cute scrunch of his nose. “Just make sure you write my boss a letter saying how fantastic and amazing I am and how there’s no other hair stylist like me and how you’ll never find anyone as cool and sexy anywhere else. Something subtle like that oughta do it.” 
“Shouldn’t be difficult,” you tell him smoothly. “I already had that one drafted.”
He chuckles, his eyes sparkling when he reaches for his scissors, but you still notice the faint blush on his cheeks that he tries to hide behind his curtain of hair. “Flattery. You know what that gets you with me.”
A freebie. You hear his voice echoing in your head, and you swallow past the dryness in your throat. “Like… what? A mohawk?”
“Would you want a mohawk?” he asks you, pausing his movements to peer at you. “Because that’d be metal as hell, I’d be so down.” 
You laugh. “I appreciate it, but I think… probably not today.”
Eddie hums, and returns to smoothing your hair back away from your face. “So we’re just doing the same as last time?” 
“Yeah, not too flashy.” 
“Gotcha. It’s a shame, though. I’m always up for a challenge.” 
“Well, I think that short hair is just easier to maintain,” you tell him, at a loss for what else to say. He glances up at you in the mirror, and locks eyes with you. “And it doesn’t make my neck look as stumpy as it is.”
Eddie tilts his head with a confused pout, and then he reaches down and wraps his hands loosely around your throat. Your breath stalls in your chest, your eyes focused on the sight of his hands on you, his thumbs gently stroking the nape of your neck and his ring clad fingers pressed just below your chin. His fingers link and hold you, creating a necklace that you’ll never be able to find anywhere else.
Oh, shit. Oh, fucking hell. Everything below your waist draws up tight and hard, your thighs clamping together like that’s going to somehow will away the hold that Eddie has on you.
You lift your eyes and find his in the mirror, dark and focused in on you. You hold each others’ gaze for a prolonged moment, not saying anything, you barely even daring to breathe. You can’t imagine what the expression on your face looks like. You’re too busy staring at the one on his– like there are a million thoughts running through his head, and you’re desperate to know every single one of them.
“Nah, I think you’re perfect.” And just like that, Eddie moves on like nothing happened, picking up his scissors again. Like he didn’t just fry your brain. Like you’re not halfway to cardiac arrest.
You’re dumbstruck as he starts trimming the ends of your hair. You told yourself there would be no mooning over him. No pining. But here, you are, turned on beyond belief, and having to deal with the heartbeat pulsing between your legs, and not shift around, because you don’t want to fuck him up. 
When he pinches the ends of the front to see if they’re level, you’re staring directly at him in the mirror. Not even trying to hide it, either. If you did try, you’d most certainly fail. Eddie frowns in concentration, a bit of a crease to his brow as he peers at his hands.
Eddie tuts. “I’m trying to figure out– is it–?” He grabs the back of your chair, and suddenly you’re being swiveled around to face him. “Sometimes these mirrors don’t even help a guy out at the worst goddamn times…”
Your breathing is way heavier than it needs to be. Is it hot in here? Did they crank up the heat in this place specifically to spite you? Eddie’s face is so close to yours, and you’re not sure if the fact that you aren’t in the crap chair is helping. You’re higher up now, and he doesn’t have to bend down as far to get level with you, and his eyes are the color of dark chocolate, and you–
Eddie’s hand comes up and snips the tip off the right side. “There we go. One side was all fucked.”
“Well, we don’t want anything getting fucked, do we?” you mutter under your breath. What’s left of it.
Eddie pauses and his eyes flick up to yours. His eyelashes are long and flutter as he holds your gaze again, while you try hard not to look away. There’s that unreadable expression on his face from earlier, morphing slowly into something like amusement, but that could also just be your mind playing tricks on you. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his li–
“Screw it.” Eddie tosses his scissors to the ground and his hands come up to grip your face, smoothing your hair back tenderly before he kisses you. 
You open your mouth and Eddie is in it, searching, feeling. His hands hold your head firm and you feel the metal of his rings digging into your cheeks, and you’re splitting apart at the seams from the way he’s completely invading your senses. He smells like warm, spicy cologne and hairspray. He tastes like cigarettes and cherry coke. He moans into you, and the sound is like heaven. 
You lift your legs and wrap them around his waist, and he grunts before he pulls away just the tiniest bit to give you breathing room. 
“This is highly unprofessional, Mr. Munson,” you whisper to him, as if you don’t have him caged in with your thighs.
“I don’t… actually fucking care,” Eddie admits, his nose just nudging against yours. “Got so fuckin’ hard the minute I saw you. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”
“Dunno,” you murmur against his mouth, “I’m waiting for you to tell me.” 
“C’mere.” He pulls you out of your seat, and you practically trip over the smock he clipped around your neck. 
“Get me out of this thing,” you giggle, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder. You inhale a deep breath of his cologne, feeling his chest shake with his laugh. 
“Aww, but you look so cute,” Eddie coos, but his hands come up to undo the button at the back of your neck. The fabric slides to the ground, and Eddie kicks it aside as he crowds you back against the table. Your ass hits the edge of it and your hand falls onto a comb when you try to steady yourself. He pulls you flush to his body, his hands caging you in. Eddie’s tongue dances over your bottom lip and you moan, lifting your hands to tangle in the fabric of his shirt.
He ducks his head to help you pull his shirt off before he tosses it somewhere to the side. You’re distracted by his tattoos, each one of them beautiful and detailed, standing out against his pale skin.
Then, you remember something that he told you earlier, and you connect some dots that you hadn’t even realized were there. “Did you draw these?” 
Eddie’s grin could blind the sun. He blushes pink down his neck and shoulders. “Yeah, I did.” 
“They’re gorgeous. I meant what I said before– I really like them.” 
He sucks in a deep breath, and then his lips are on you, everywhere they can manage. On your face, your neck, trying to get at your collarbone but your shirt is in the way. He fists it in his hands, making a petulant noise in the back of his throat. “Help me out here, sweetheart.”
Your shirt lands somewhere near his. You don’t see exactly where, because he’s pulling the straps of your bra down your shoulders so that he can mouth kisses across your breasts, pulling down on the cups until he can graze his teeth over your nipple. It takes you so off guard that you bite back a squeal, tugging at his hair and rubbing your thighs together to stave off the incessant throbbing between them.
When you look down at him, his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black. Your heart thuds erratically in your chest, your breath not coming even though you gasp and pull at the air with everything you have. You can’t really fathom why he has you so worked up– just that it’s been so long since anyone touched you like this, and now that you have it it’s like every little point of contact is on fire.
Eddie grazes his teeth across your breast, and your knees nearly buckle out from under you. You grab his face, guiding him back up to you. 
“What were you thinking when you grabbed my throat?” you ask him, your voice hoarse in the back of your throat. 
His hands are on you now, grabbing at your waist and hips, squeezing like he’ll never let go. “I can show you, if you want,” Eddie answers, and he sounds just as wrecked as you. Maybe more. 
There’s absolutely no way you’re going to refuse that. Not with the way you’ve been lusting after him since meeting him. You nod. “Eddie, please–”
He kisses you hard again before mumbling against your lips, “Turn around and take off your pants.”
You do what he asks without a second’s hesitation. You watch him in the mirror as he follows your movements, undoing his own belt, and you kick your jeans and underwear off without thinking about why you’re here, without wondering about the repercussions. You figure you can probably do that later.
Right now, Eddie’s smoothing his hand up your spine, and the feeling of his fingers dancing along your skin sends shivers through your body. His fingers weave through the hair at the nape of your neck, and he pulls just slightly, until you bare your neck. 
Your breath hitches in your throat. Your heart hammers as you watch him, dark eyes and hair and rosy cheeks in the mirror, his carnation colored lips twisting into a wicked grin at you. He kisses your shoulder so gently it’s like the fluttering of a feather. 
“‘Stumpy neck,’” Eddie scoffs under his breath, and you tremble. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”
He bends you forward until you’re face to face with yourself in the mirror– but you’re looking at him, gazing into your eyes while he teases himself at your entrance.
“Oh my god,” you groan, dropping your head almost immediately at the feeling. Your head is spinning, your body rigid with anticipation and breaking out in a cool sweat already. 
“Mm-mm,” Eddie hums condescendingly, and a hand clamps around your throat, hoisting your head up again. A gasp tears from your lips. In the mirror, his eyes are blazing. “You look at me while I fuck you. That’s the only way this is gonna happen. Got it?”
You nod. You want to shrink away from the heat in his gaze, but you want him to fuck you way more than that. You shudder as he leans forward, pressing in until his chin nearly rests on your shoulder.
“I need to hear you say it, baby.” His thumb strokes lightly along your pulse point, and you make a soft noise in the back of your throat without thinking. “Tell me you understand.” 
“I understand,” you tell him, barely a whisper, but he hears it all the same. 
“Good girl.” 
Eddie grins, kisses the nape of your neck, and pulls back. When he does, you’re barely able to take a breath before he pushes his hard cock into you, and the noise you make is almost embarrassing in its volume. 
“Ohhh, you’re absolutely soaked, baby. She’s practically dripping– is this just for me?” Eddie murmurs in your ear, grinding his hips up against your ass for emphasis. The lewd noise that it makes has your toes curling and the tips of your ears burning.
“Fuck,” you moan, ginding back against him to push him deeper. He’s so thick and you’re so sensitive that your mind is completely blanking at the feeling. 
Eddie notices, and he chuckles as grabs your waist with one hand as he thrusts his hips forward. “I’ve barely gotten my cock in you, princess. Don’t go getting all dumb on me already.” His voice goes straight between your legs and your cunt pulses around him, making him hiss through his teeth. The hand on your throat tightens just slightly. “I asked you a question.”
You keen, your mind reeling as you search for words. You manage to nod, babbling out, “Yes, it’s– it’s all for you, Eddie, been wanting you so bad, s’all I can think about–”
Eddie coos, grabbing your chin to shut you up while a particularly hard thrust of his hips knocks the wind out of you. He turns his head and grazes his lips against your cheek, eyeing you in the mirror as he says, “I knew it.” 
Your eyes are on him, on his hand around your neck, on his rings pressed into your skin. All that your fucked-out mind can think is that it’s hot, and you like him and his strong hands and his pretty eyes and the way his cock is reaching places inside you that make thoughts really difficult to come by.
Eddie whispers something against your skin, and you miss it because you’re hooked on the way his eyelashes flutter for just a moment while his lips are pressed against your cheek. You lift your hand, until it rests over his against your throat, his fingers just barely laced with yours. 
“Again,” you say– it comes out like a command, but you mean it like a question. You don’t know what the fuck he just said. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he repeats, and his voice nearly cracks with the desperation in it. His sweat slick chest is pressed against your back, his thrusts rocking your hips into the table and jostling it into the wall, but his voice is so tender. “So perfect for me.” 
Your mouth falls open, your hand tightening on his. You pull, until he loosens his grip and his hand comes away with yours. You kiss his palm, then his fingertips, holding his gaze in the mirror as you slowly, gently swirl your tongue around his middle and forefinger. 
Eddie’s eyes narrow coyly at you, while his thrusts make you mewl and clutch at the table with your free hand. You suck his two fingers deep into your mouth, earning a pleased groan from him in your ear– a sound which you want to hear again and again, no matter what it takes. 
“Look at you, sweet little thing, gettin’ my fingers all wet like that,” he whispers to you, biting his lip as you grind back against him. “Wanna do something with ‘em?”
You moan, letting his fingers slide from your mouth with a wet pop. You guide his hand down your chest, down your stomach, until his fingers slide between your legs. 
“There you go,” Eddie coos, taking over from your guidance as his fingers start rubbing small circles against your clit. “Atta girl, showin’ me what you want. Just needed me to fuck you stupid first, hm?”
Your cunt pulses, and you cum with a loud moan that echoes off of the mirror in front of you and around the empty space. Eddie cries out, and you feel his warmth fill you as he cums. He slows until he stills inside you, and then he holds you, panting against your cheek, his arm wrapped around your middle and his hand on your throat.
You haven’t moved your hand away from his, you realize, after a few moments of bliss in the aftershocks. You drop your hand to the table with a thud, earning a soft, breathless chuckle from him. 
“Can I take you out to dinner?” Eddie asks you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
“I think you can do whatever you want with me,” you murmur dazedly, just barely shifting and making him hiss. He’s still inside you, trying to hold you steady while he calms himself down. 
“Good.” There’s a kiss to your cheek, and Eddie grunts as he slowly eases out of you. “I still need to finish your goddamn haircut.”
“Eddie, we’re naked.” 
“And?” His hands are moving quicker than your mind is, yanking a kleenex from the table so that he can bend down and wipe the insides of your thighs. You jump at the sudden touch, but he clamps a hand around your hip to hold you still. “The sooner I finish your hair, the sooner I close up, and the sooner we go get dinner. You like Italian?”
“I didn’t think your pillow talk would involve finishing my haircut,” you grumble, but there’s a smile worming it’s way onto your face even as you say it. 
“That’s the name of the game, sweetheart,” Eddie says, tossing the tissue into the trash. He picks up your underwear, and the smock from the floor. “Now, sit your cute ass down. I’m not gonna get employee of the month by dishing out orgasms and not bangs, y’know.”
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pairing: song mingi x reader (no pronouns mentioned, reader has female anatomy)
au/genre: college!au, tutor!reader, mingi does not give a shit about studying, smut
word count: 4816 words
warnings: voice kink (AHHHHH), oral and fingering (reader receiving), reader is a little mean, kitchen sex, anime references, cringe, a joke about adhd, dirty talk... um..., oh right Mingi has a big dick (wbk), everyone's a little silly, unprotected sex (boo ‼️👎🏻), premature ejaculation almost, creampie, cum eating... (not reader...), i think that's it. NOT PROOF READ YET!!
synopsis: mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice
or
mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves.
a/n: i was almost ready when i saw this tiktok and it completely blocked my mind because it's SO FUNNY, but at the same time, it's men being dudes, dudes being bros, and that kind of made it hard for me to continue. i apologize for the 24h delay 😞
taglist: @byuntrash101 @goquokka @ashwoodforest @choisansnotsolegalwife
Mingi is not one to sit there and look at books. Or papers. Or anything that doesn't move and feed his brain with bright colors and his ears with noises, really. He prefers to vibe, and studying is definitely not the vibe. Sadly, studying is a part of his life as a university student. Yes, he chose this path for himself and yes, he was aware that it would involve studying. Still, now that it's really happening and is not just an obstacle to overcome in the far, far future, Mingi kind of wishes he'd chosen something else to do with his life. It's just exhausting, why would he waste the precious time he has left on planet earth on something that doesn't get the serotonin floating? He's pretty sure he has some undiagnosed ADHD simmering up there, but who is he to judge that? He's certainly not studying to become a doctor or whatever.
Anyway, given the fact that Mingi doesn't like to study, he's not had much experience with it in the first place. He's barely gotten his way through school, but uni is a different level. Hence, he needs someone to 1) teach him how to study and 2) make him study, or rather: have a judging eye on him while he is supposed to study, so the fear of being called out on it may light a fire under his ass and force him to bury his nose between the stinky pages of an old library book (on that note: he also needed someone to show him how to check out books from the library).
And that's why you are here, every Thursday afternoon, sitting at the sad excuse of a kitchen counter slash dining table in Mingi's scandalously expensive apartment given its size, growling next to him every time you catch him analyzing the bumps on his wallpapers instead of the letters on the pages.
Mingi generally likes you, even though you are a bit scary, he has to admit, or maybe that's the appeal. You are polite, but you have a way of looking at him that makes him feel like he's getting mansplained by your eyes. Your taunting gaze on him makes him feel small, and he doesn't like that at all. It makes him feel like all these years of drinking milk to make him stand at the 1.84m he is at today were in vain. You always have that one expression on your face, and maybe that's just Mingi's subconsciousness telling him to STUDY HARD FOR GOD'S SAKE, but in the way your eyebrows would scrunch together just the tiniest bit, he reads: God, he is fucking stupid.
He doesn't know which (since he did not pay attention in biology class, nor is he even sure they teach that in biology class) chemical in his brain suffers an allergic reaction every time you look at him like that, but there has to be one. There is nothing that Mingi hates more than being called stupid. Well, except for studying, maybe.
Call him lazy, call him a scalawag, call him witty for being able to get through all of school without reading a single one of the set books if you must, but do not call him stupid.
The only problem is that you haven't, well, called him stupid per se. It's just how Mingi interprets your stares. Also, he desperately needs you because he doubts there will be many other contestants that are okay with getting paid as little as you are (which is all Mingi has left by the end of a month full of Pokémon trading cards). So Mingi just has to sit back and relax and simply take it because, apparently, that's what he gets for not studying his entire life.
A loud ringing wakes Mingi from his peaceful afternoon nap - one that he has really earned this time around, he managed to look through his study notes for a full 20 minutes during his lunch break!
Disoriented, Mingi raises his head to make out his location and what year he is in. It rings again. Slowly, Mingi recognizes the shrill sound as his door bell. He slowly gets up, a quick glance in the mirror tells him that his hair is an absolute mess (which is really a crowning achievement given his buzz cut length) and he has imprint marks from his blanket all over his right cheek, but his sleepy mind doesn't even take it in. Mingi furrows his brows and shakes his head. Who would dare to disturb his peaceful slumber at this ungodly hour (4pm)?
The answer, of course, stands right in front of his door. With your arms crossed and the tip of your shoe drumming a dent into Mingi's "come in if you're a silly baka"-door mat, you raise an unimpressed brow at the sleepy shell of Mingi that blinks one eye after the other.
A few seconds pass until Mingi finally realizes who you are, and his mouth forms an 'o'-shape. Immediately after, he furrows his brows once again, his body slumping forward a bit because: why on God's green earth are you here? Then, it hits him like a truck, the aftermath of the collision blowing the remaining sleep out of his eyes: it's Thursday afternoon!
"Sorry," he says and sheepishly scratches the back of his head, then steps aside to let you enter.
"It's fine, it's only freezing cold outside," you stare at him before stepping in, shudder as you kick your shoes off, slip into Mingi's guest slippers and hurry inside. Mingi's brain does not register the sarcasm drenching your words.
"Let's get to it, shall we?" You ask as Mingi finally manages to follow you into the kitchen. You sit, take out a few sheets of paper from your backpack, then look over questioningly as Mingi has not even moved a millimeter, but instead started yawning like his life depends on it. Your eyes drift down his body. "Or maybe after you've put on some pants?"
Mingi freezes, looks down to confirm that, indeed, he's not wearing pants, but Naruto boxer shorts, then covers his crotch with his hands and buzzes off into his room.
Minutes later, Mingi reenters the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips that, yes, he checked twice if he's wearing them the right way around. As mentioned, he is generally unable to properly focus on his studies, but today, it's exceptionally bad. Of course, you'd notice.
"Mingi, are you okay?" There's worry in your eyes – a sight Mingi has not seen. Ever.
"I'm fine, just tired," he mumbles, eyes unfocusing as he stares ahead.
"Yeah, you are? Why?" Mingi's tired mind cannot question why you suddenly seem so interested in his well-being. He also doesn't put any meaning into why you're scooting closer to him, your forearm accidentally touching his.
"I studied during my lunch break," Mingi informs you, a little, proud smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something tingles inside his chest as you carefully place your hand on his arm. As he looks over at you, you smile at him, and he notices your gaze flickering down to his lips for a second.
Hold on. Mingi's mind suddenly snaps out of its hazy state and works on overdrive. He might be the type to vibe, the type to just let things play out, but he'd be damned if he didn't notice when someone likes him like that. He suddenly notices the way you started creating skin-on-skin contact with him, the way you want to be closer to him, eyeing him even more than you ever did before. Just... why? Is it because you saw him in his Anime panties?
A few moments pass, and you sit back, then pat your pencil against the book to remind him of the reason why you're actually here. Mingi groans, admittedly a little dramatically and unreasonably erotic, brushing a hand through his hair to flex his biceps right in front of your face. You seem unimpressed.
"Well, fuck me," he chuckles deeply, the rasp in his voice more evident than usual due to his nap. It's then when you tense, he notices from the corner of his eye. Oh. Okay. So it's the voice?
"I'm really glad you're tutoring me, you know?" He purrs, throwing in a little praise to get you extra bothered, and you simply breathe out nervously.
"Heh, no worries," you brush him off. Mingi decides that, for now, he's made you suffer enough and keeps quiet. Instead, he focusses on his studies, although he's already planning his next step to terrorize you with the sultry rasp his vocal cords are gifted with.
"Mingi, focus-"
"No, I get what I have to do, the contents just won't stay in my head." Mingi reasons, his voice unusually, but not by chance, high pitched, eyebrows scrunched as to why the hell he has to do this before doing that only to do whatever next when it wasn't like this for the other exercise he had to do minutes prior. He is not stupid (!), he does understand how this works. It's just that it doesn't make sense, and that is surely not his fault.
"Are you stup-" you start, but shut your mouth before you're even able to call him the dumbest fucker you've ever crossed paths with. Mingi inhales sharply. Oh, oh, you're lucky he is patient, and you're lucky he knows that as soon as he growled a few dirty words into your ear, you'd slam your upper body on the counter without regards of caution, pushing your panties down under your skirt and begging him to take you right there - or at least, that's what he imagines.
Yes, Mingi is super patient, that's just what comes with the entire vibe-personality package, so he does not dump your cute sorry ass on his baka-door mat, but simply closes his pen, lays it on the table and looks at you. A fabulous idea plops into his mind.
"God," he groans as deeply as he can, stretching his arms over his head, "I guess I'm just a little" - he throws in a little moany sigh - "a little distracted today."
"A-are you?" You nod, biting your lip subconsciously. Mingi looks at you without moving his head. "Why?"
"Well, just stuff, you know?" Mingi enjoys how the rumble in his voice makes his throat and - obviously - you feel. "There's just a lot, going on. Like big... big stuff. Stuff that just keeps coming and coming, in and out, just like that. Ugh, I wish I could just let all this frustration out you know, all this pent up stuff." He watches for your reaction.
Unmistakably, your hand holding your own pen in a relaxed manner mere seconds ago now desperately grasps the poor objects until your knuckles turn white, your breathing is uneven and loud as if you'd just ran the entire way from Mingi's place to the next convenience store (seriously, why the fuck is he paying so much for this godforsaken apartment?). And - Mingi's favorite reaction to him ever: you're pressing your thighs together.
Oh, how Mingi loves himself a good reaction like this.
"Big stuff, huh?" Your voice trembles as your nervous eyes search for his. "H-how big?"
"Oh, really big. Just really fucking big," Mingi confirms with a slight smirk. He loves how you just fold easily like that. One second, you're over there feeling superior on your little throne of knowledge that Mingi lacks, and the next, you're making a little mess in your panties just because Mingi so much as spoke. Absolutely incredible. People should start calling him "the rizzler".
"I think-" you clear your throat, "I think I should head home then?"
Mingi smiles to himself as soon as you turn away to pack your stuff into your backpack. His hands automatically reach out to play with his pen, his long, slender fingers toying with the object, inevitably drawing your attention to the movements. "Already?"
"Mhm." You stare a second too long, gulp, then hastily stuff your belongings into the big compartment of the backpack, Mingi listens to the sweet melody of stressed breathing and papers crunching.
As amused as he is, he decides that it is time for the big reveal.
"Keep it in your pants, baby" he looks over, his eyebrow halfway raised, and stops rocking back and forth and fiddling with the pencil as you freeze in your tracks and stop packing. "What?"
Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. "So you know?" You manage to squeak.
Mingi smugly pushes his tongue into his cheek. He loves how you're basically vibrating out of nervousness. "Oh, I know."
You sigh, hands finally letting go of your stuff and motioning defeat. He wonders what's going on in your mind right now. Are you afraid he's going to call you out? That he's going to make fun of you? That he's going to call you a needy slut and send you home? Or are you wondering if he's going to give you what you want? Mingi loves this game.
That's why he decides to make your situation a little more miserable.
"I also know that you think I'm stupid," he explains calmly, trying his best to no longer show any excitement, smugness, or any emotion whatsoever on his sharp facial features to really confuse you. Well, that's what you're getting for (almost) calling The Song Mingi stupid. Just a little payback, is all. He's not going to go so far and make you cry. No, no, Mingi can't handle when people cry, much less so if it's because of him.
Nevertheless, your breath hitches. Oh, you're fully aware that he didn't like you calling him that at all. Oh, how the gears are turning behind your forehead as you're trying to figure out what's going on, and what's going to go on in the next minutes.
"Thought so," Mingi deadpans. Yeah, that's right. Look how smart he is now! Super smart! He's got you all figured out. He knows exactly what to say and how to act to make you feel - and, fuck, does this feel like redemption - stupid.
"I'm sorry-" you start, back facing Mingi's form, but Mingi is not here for it. Mingi has gotten what Mingi wants. Mingi feels as powerful as he imagines a lion to feel, like, every day.
"Dumb fucks good," he simply states, just putting it out there, throwing it into the room for you to do with that statement whatever you like. Mingi's mind is already satisfied, his ego stroked because he's just proven that he isn't dumb. Although... he wouldn't mind a little diddling because, if he's being honest, you're hot as fuck and seeing you react to him in this way- well, he's also just a man!
"What?" You probably think you must've terribly misheard him as you whip your head around to face the confident Mingi smugly leaned back in his chair. Your eyes meet his, and he is sure that you now realize that, no, you definitely did not mishear him. That was exactly what he said.
In the blink of an eye, Mingi feels your presence on his lap, a last final look into his eyes before he feels your lips against his, desperately chewing away the remaining air separating his spit from yours. It's messy, lips colliding, too much teeth and tongue, but it's all raw and desperate. Mingi gets the vibes that you may have had some pent up want for him, but that's honestly the last clear thought he can muster before you grind your hips against his.
A deep groan escapes Mingi's lips, inevitably echoing against your own quiet gasps that just turn louder with every movement of your hips, your hands frantically trying to touch him everywhere at once to the point where he has to grab your arms and pull you back. Your eyes, wide. And confused, but somehow lidded and hazy at the same time struggle to take in Mingi in front of you. Yes, Mingi is aware of the effect of his siren eyes.
For another moment, he simply enjoys seeing how destroyed you look already, but honestly, there is just one thing on his mind.
"I'm gonna eat you out," he informs, waiting for you to nod frantically, whine and scramble off his lap for him to keep his promise. And you do, allowing Mingi to grab your waist with his large hands and lift you onto the counter. Of course, he can't resist getting another taste of your lips, almost losing himself in the soft pillows that frame your pretty mouth, but the hardness creating a tent in his sweatpants reminds him that he should possible attend a little lower.
Hence, he kisses his way over your cheek towards your jaw, then over your neck and down your collarbones. Mingi is not sure what your opinions on love bites are, so he just hopes you can remember him being right here and here and here even without visual proof, he can save that for next time.
Okay, Mingi admittedly was not able to hold himself back completely, his teeth only gently nipping at your skin on his way down. He simply hopes for the best, but your sounds seem to imply that you do not mind him one bit. Instead, you sound as if you wouldn't mind him taking a few bites more.
Impatient as you are, you assist Mingi in pushing your shirt out of the way, the straps of your bra automatically falling down your shoulders to reveal more of you to his hungry eyes.
And as much as Mingi would like to spend hours playing with your chest, he keeps it down to a minimum, kissing the soft flesh while gently pushing the remaining material out of the way for better access. His lips wrap around a nipple, his hands meanwhile busy with massaging the other and carefully holding your waist. God, Mingi loves boobs. But he might love the way your fingers comb through his hair and gently pull on it a bit more even.
Finally, the time has come, and Mingi kneels down on the floor. Pushing your skirt up, hands caressing your thighs, he creates eye contact with your eyes glazed over by lust and want. It doesn't even faze him that he hasn't cleaned these floors in weeks, honestly, he is in so deep he probably wouldn't even realize if the stove was on, lighting his study notes on fire.
He wants to tease you more, make you wait, maybe make you beg even, but he just feels too hungry to keep waiting. His fingers hook into the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs as quickly as possible before spreading your legs and groaning in anticipation.
Throwing your thighs over his shoulders, he pulls you forward a little further, chuckling as you almost lose balance and smile at him. Okay, maybe Mingi feels a little tingle, and maybe that is not a horny tingle, but that's something to worry about later, if ever. Right now, he has a mission: dive in.
So that's what he does, obviously, planting a careful kiss right on your clit to wait for your reaction. And you do not disappoint, gasping slightly at the first sensation before getting louder and bolder the more Mingi tastes you.
His tongue gently parts your folds, getting a first taste of your juices. You basically cry out as his tongue prods at your hole, carefully easing its way inside to caress your walls.
Automatically, your hands fly to his hair, gently pulling at the roots to find a way to ground yourself, the feeling assumingely overwhelming, Mingi thinks, not to brag, but-
Mingi's eyes roll back at a particularly hard tug at his hair, paired with the way your hips grind closer until you're basically riding his face. Fuck, how are you so hot? Mingi's fingers grab hard at your thighs, loving the way the soft flesh feels in his hands.
To experiment a little more and, first and foremost, to get more rewarding reactions out of you, Mingi lets his mouth wander back up to your clit, gently sucking the nub between his lips, his tongue carefully flicking as not to overwhelm you. At the same time, a fingers sneaks its way over to circle your entrance.
Your throat coughs out a broken moan at this, your eyes switching between looking at Mingi's eyes and his mouth, and closing completely. Mingi loves taking in the pleasure written all over your face. He might not admit it, but he loves this kind of praise much more than verbal praise because your body really can't lie. He can literally taste how good he is at this.
He finally pushes his finger inside, loving how the wetness and muscle contractions are basically pulling him deeper and deeper until past his second knuckle. He feels around a little, trying to find the spots that seem to appeal to you the most, watching carefully how you react to each and every flick of his wrist.
Although, he feels that one finger is not enough to prepare you for the rest of him, so he adds another, massaging them into the spot that seems to be making you see stars with the way you grip his hair even tighter and mutter something he interprets as a warning that you're about to cum.
Keeping his pace, he successfully sends you over the edge, letting you ride out your high on his tongue before removing his lips, only getting his fingers massage the last clenches out of you.
Looking up he realizes you look, respectfully, wrecked, with your chest heaving, your hair a little messy and your eyes hazy and glossy, parted lips asking for his. And who is he to deny them, as he leans in to allow you to taste yourself. You seem to like it.
Pulling back after a while, he looks at you. You look so happy and relaxed like he's never seen before. For some reason, it reminds him of the weight in his pants that he suddenly feels the need to inform you about.
"You make me so hard," Mingi says lowly, carefully taking your hand to prove it to you, "feel." It's more your hand guiding his with how fast you reach down to feel him, eager to touch the outline of him through the sweatpants. And as if you're getting paid to stroke Mingi's ego even more, you gasp at his size.
Mingi can't help but smirk, of course, who wouldn't?
"Big stuff, huh?" You repeat your words from earlier, but this time no longer nervous, but cheeky as you bite your lip playfully. Oh, how Mingi would love to make you choke on his dick right now, just a little, and in a loving matter, but he's honestly waited long enough and he really just needs to be in you right now. And besides, Mingi is more in his giving > receiving era.
Instead, he grins. And he feels like there is something more.
Impatiently, you tug at his pants, successfully moving them a millimeter. Mingi helps you push his pants further down until it pools around his ankles. You giggle.
Damnit, Mingi. Why couldn't you've changed your underwear? Mingi mentally scolds himself, a good amount of his previously earned smugness flying out the window. Instead, he gives you kind of a sheepish look.
"I don't mind," you assure, tugging at his anime boxers next, "it's actually relieving to be reminded that you're still the cute, dorky Mingi and are not possessed by a sex demon."
"Incubus," Mingi points out.
"I don't fucking care. Just get this hideous thing off and have sex with me!"
Mingi does not need to be told twice, although he makes a mental note to scold you later for calling the one and only Naruto printed on a piece of fabric shielding his balls from the outside world hideous.
"God, fuck," you let out, and Mingi chuckles at your reaction to his naked lower half, "come here. Please."
You pull him closer, wrap your legs around him and beg him with your eyes. Mingi wastes not another second, aligning himself with your hole and slowly pushing forwards. Your eyes roll back as he enters you, causing you to hold onto him for dear life as he inches inside, filling you completely.
God, must your walls hug him so perfectly? Must you be so unbelievably wet just for him? Must you make these sounds? Mingi feels like he doesn't want to be inside anyone else ever again.
"I feel like I don't want to inside anything else ever again."
How did that get out there?
You chuckle, and have the nerve to pinch his cheek, as if he wasn't balls deep buried inside you right now. "You're so cute."
Cute?!
Mingi will show you cute. He grabs your jaw, admittedly still gently, and makes you look at him as he pulls almost all the way out until his tip catches at your entrance. "Cute?" And he pushes in all the way all at once. You moan, the feeling too much, too intense for you to still keep your eyes open. Helplessly, you cling to Mingi's body as he repeats the action 4 more times before setting a steady rhythm, angling his hips in a way that should stimulate the spot you liked so much earlier.
With your mouth hanging open and your eyebrows scrunched, you look like the prettiest thing Mingi's ever seen. He wants to see you drool, watch you completely lose your mind over nothing else but his cock. At the same time, he is surprised how good it feels. Well, not surprised that it feels good, but that it feels abnormally good, like he's about to nut in the next minute or so. Hopefully, he's able to coax another high out of you before that.
"What was it that riled you up so much earlier? My voice?" He growls, and you as much as whimper in return. "Yeah, like it that my voice is so deep?" You nod pathetically. "Cute."
"Mingi- 's so good."
"Yeah, am I fucking you good?" Mingi grins and you nod weakly, struggling to keep your eyes open. Mingi really shouldn't be the one talking big because honestly, he feels like if u moan one more time, if ur walls clench around him one more time, he is going to lose it. Something about this entire situation is just super surreal to him, or maybe it's simply you that is the reason for his premature high that is coming for him with fast steps.
"Fuck, baby," he groans, kissing your cheek before whispering, "can I please cum inside?"
"Shit, y-yes," you confirm, nodding quickly as you fight your hardest battle to keep your eyes open, focused and on the man that's currently grinding his tip into your sweet spot. Mingi feels like he loves you.
Mingi also feels like he's loosing his grip on reality, which is why he grabs your hips harder than before, using his strength to really slam his hips into yours with force, drowning his thoughts with the sounds of your moans. There is nothing on his mind except for you, you, you, and the primal need to make you his.
"Please," he groans, not quite sure what he's begging for, but it doesn't really matter in the end, does it? All that matters is that Mingi's ears catch the way you're begging him to cum for you, to fill you up, to please, please finish inside. He is not going to deny you that wish.
His hips stutter, his mind goes numb as he feels his muscles tighten and contract, releasing deep inside you. The feeling spreads in his body, feeling high and happy with such a forceful orgasm like this one.
Everything after is just a blur in his mind, he just remembers realizing that you didn't cum a second time, and he wouldn't be Mingi if he kept it that way. That's why he found himself back on his knees seconds after pulling out, sucking your clit back into his mouth, tasting his own release that's threatening to drip out if it wasn't for his fast fingers pumping in and out of you to push you over the edge.
It doesn't take long until you do, orgasm fueled by the lewd action of Mingi eating his own cum out of you, he assumes. Somehow, you two end up in his bed after, mostly because Mingi is a cuddler, partly because Mingi is not able to let you go yet. Or ever. Who knows.
© 2023 YUTASBELLYBUTTONPIERCING all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works.
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yndrgrl · 3 months
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yandere! bakugo, the no. one hero in japan, is your boss, & you're his personal assistant
soft! yandere. fem! reader. pro hero! au. willing! reader. long ass fic. ooc! bakugo.
warnings: nsfw, power dynamic, implied age gap (not too big tho lmao), p-in-v, obsessive behavior, stalking, toys, slight coercion
a/n: guys... what's the "read more" feature 💀
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you are a phenomenon, at least in the world of working under big-league heroes you are. traditionally, employees that have five years of experience under the company will most likely get the position of secretary, then after years of being a secretary, they have an opportunity to be promoted to personal assistant. so when you, a random, nobody college student with only dead end job experiences on your resume, got hired as his secretary -after applying as a joke- the office was buzzing with rumors & critiques. you knew that they all harshly judged you by the way they glared at you when you left after your second interview with big boss man himself. you were self-conscious, especially after you got that fateful call from dynamight's personal phone that you've gotten the job. insecure, that's what you felt.
dynamight, on the other hand, didn't feel the need to explain himself to anyone. he honestly couldn't care less about the chatter circulating his office.
from an outsider's (& anyone else's to be honest) perspective, it seemed like a terrible choice to hire you. however, dynamight knew what he was doing; he knew you.
he saved you once upon a time, when he first debuted as a pro hero. you could never forget the ruby color of his eyes, the scars & soot that he was covered in. you could never forget the serious expression he wore as he carried you to safety.
at first, you were just another damn civilian caught in the crossfire between him & a gang of wannabe mastermind villains, then he looked into your eyes-- your captivating, watery, (color) eyes. his breath hitched as his gaze pierced through yours. he blamed it on a quirk you might have. fall-in-love-with-a-single-gaze quirk? yeah, that must be it, he thought.
your first encounter left you both in a confusing state of emotions, but you soon considered it a distant memory of tragedy then hope. it sparked a -seemingly- unachievable dream to, one day, work under dynamight. you remember him all to well, & sometimes, when you think about it too much, you tear up that such an influential figure in your life will never remember you in the same light.
or so you thought.
unaware, you thought he forgot all about you, but no. he thought of you everyday. he cursed himself for never saying anything more than, "are you alright?" then guiding you to the paramedics. he never got your name, & he hated himself for it. for years, he would look for your face in the crowd. his heart would flutter when he thought he saw your doe-like expression-- until he gave them a closer look, & it wasn't you.
& so, when you walked into his office building just as he was leaving through a different exit, he caught a glimpse of you. he did a double-take, slowed his pace, & his ruby eyes grew wide. it was you going into the interview room. "mr. bakugo, this way, please," a stranger guided him, yet he couldn't rip his gaze from the room. you were right there, & he can't even talk to you. he was being rushed off into a black suv to go to some random conference.
as soon as he got back to the office, he racked through all the resumes, quizzing the interviewer that day about every applicant. his temples ached as she kept talking, but he couldn't get too mad at her. after all, he told her to tell him about every single person she interviewed today. "-then before my lunch, the cutest, little lady came in. it was clearly her first time interviewing for such a position," the older woman chuckled. dynamight's ears perked up. could it be?
"tell me more," the blonde inquired.
"oh, you know. it's just her resume wasn't the most impressive compared to everyone else's."
he wanted to ask what she looked like, but that would he too out of character for him. however, he knew that if he let her keep talking, she would describe her in more detail.
"is that so?"
"oh yes, but she was so sweet that i wanted to offer her an intern position instead. she seemed so eager, you know? she honestly looks like a girl i once taught. did i ever tell you that i was a teacher, bakugo?" she questioned, having a tendency to go on tangents
"i do remember you telling me about that," he told her. he's grown into a gentleman through out the years... or he's just a little less of an asshole, it's hard to tell. he's grown more respectful for his elders (as in the senior citizens who love reminiscing of their youth, not the "elders" who are snakey businessmen). "how were they alike?"
"oh, man, you're really testing my memory," she laughed, "they both had the most beautiful, (color) hair, but the girl i interviewed was definitely not my old student, i think. (y/n), the young woman i interviewed, had such a fun style too! i think her eyes were... actually i don't remember," the woman paused for a second, before her eyes lit up. "wait! she took a picture for our system! you have to see her, bakugo, she's really just the cutest. i think she would make a great intern, & maybe one day, a great secretary!" with a few clicks of her mouse & words typed on her keyboard, she pulled up a picture of a woman, a picture of you. she turned her screen towards the pro hero. it was you.
~
"so, (y/n), is it?" your boss, the dynamight, sat across from you, a desk in between the two of you. he acted like he had no idea who you were, even though he spends the majority of the day in office watching your through surveillance cameras. he just loved the way you walked with such subconscious confidence.
"y-yes, sir," you cleared your throat. what kind of impression are you making by stuttering?
you were warned by all your coworkers that dynamight does take shit, that he is a tyrant, & that he can smell fear. naturally, you were sweating bullets. "please, call me katsuki," he requested. he watched your brows furrow in confusion before snapping back to a relaxed expression. "you've been working here for a little over a month, is that right?"
you were bewildered. you felt like your coworkers lied to you about him being so rude & uncooperative. he seemed nice, stern, yes, but nice nonetheless.
the shocking, yet welcomed, kindness eased your nerves. your lips broke into a small smile, saying, "yes, it has been."
"how has it been? working here?" he questioned, leaning back into his chair. your eyes darted from his bulky form to the window to the cup of pens on his desk. you were in a mental quarrel. for the most part, your coworkers have been alright to your face. they'll let a snarky comment come out then mask it as a joke. but you knew the rumors swimming around the office, you knew how they all thought you were under qualified. of course you were, so speculations of how you had rich parents or you're just a really good temptress started to blossom.
you could lie to save all of their sorry asses, build rapport with them, or you could tell the truth, get a more favorable outcome for yourself but be labeled a tattle-tell & a bitch.
"(y/n)? is everything alright?" katsuki's uncharacteristically softened voice called out. "you know you can tell me anything that's going on. i only have your best interests in mind, you're mine," he paused, "you're my employee."
you must've misheard him, so you shrugged it off. "can i be honest with you?"
"of course."
you took a deep breath. you're already committed. "i don't mean to already cause problems or be, you know, that girl, but there have been some things said about me by my coworkers that i just don't really like. i mean, i don't think they meant it in a rude way, but i also don't want to have the reputation that they're trying to paint for me... does that make sense?"
this is was a surprise to katsuki. he's usually in touch with all the gossip in his agency. he would be an idiot if he thought that people wouldn't be offended that he hired you over them for such a position, but he knew your charms could get you far. how can your charms get you far if no one gave you the time of day, though?
you realized your disadvantages in this job. you had no degree yet, you were probably the youngest in the office, & you have no real experiences outside of customer service. however, you didn't know that the older, more experienced workers would be so hostile to you.
"what have they been saying?" katsuki asked, leaning forward.
"they've just been saying how i must have rich parents who got me this position or like, i must be doing... favors for someone on the hiring team."
katsuki gritted his teeth, his composure slipping. it made him absolutely sick thinking about you with someone else.
you continued, "& some of the jokes they tell me feel inappropriate? but that could be just because that's their humor."
you're so cute, trying to protect them, katsuki cooed in his head.
"i'm sorry to hear your experience has been pleasant so far. i can assure you that i'll have that taken care of. who's been saying those kinds of things to you?"
"oh... um... it's hard to say. i think it's best just to send out an email to everyone because i don't really know who says those kinds of things." it's a lie, but you didn't want a big confrontation & write an official complaint so soon into your first corporate job.
"(y/n)," katsuki said in a nearly-demanding tone. "tell me the truth." he was intimidating in the blink of an eye.
"i-i promise i am," you replied, nervously scratching your knuckle. "i just... uh, don't really know who's talking about me behind my back?"
it was silent for only a moment. katsuki's eyes were glued on your smaller form. you gulped.
"i want to schedule another meeting next week to ensure that the harassment was put to a stop."
~
a week came & went, & the meeting you had with katsuki was brief. in short, he asked, "have you heard anything more?"
you replied truthfully, just as last time. "yes. it could be in my head, but it's worse now."
the company-wide email didn't work, & it enraged katsuki that his employees, the ones that work under him, are defying him with such misplaced confidence.
how dare they insult him by disobeying him, & how dare they make you feel unwelcome.
because of their antics, he has been floating around your workspace. his mere presence causes all the bothersome whispers into quiet typing. looming over your cubical, katsuki, with a ghost of a smirk, would observe your work-- how you would mess up twice as much under his gaze. "it looks good, (y/n)," he praised before looking at all of the peering coworkers. he would shoot them a glare.
he was such a good boss to you.
the more you worked at his agency, the more you saw of him. & the more you got comfortable with him. he may be your boss, but he was slowly becoming you friend, you felt. the more you saw him, the more you realized he was your work crush. what a cliche.
you sat in his office, this time with your lunch on his desk as the two of you chatted. it was the new norm to eat lunch with each other. you don't know when it happened but it was also the norm for him to order whatever you wanted. you insisted on paying him back every time, however he never let you.
"this is so good, i haven't had this in forever," you raved as you took another bite of your food. "thank you so much! i really owe you one."
"shut up," katsuki said back with a slight smirk. god, he loved spoiling you.
"no, but i do though," you said, whining. the banter between the you two sprung up after he, for the fifth time that day, stopped by your cubicle a few days ago. his humor was crude & could be consider bullying... but he's so hot-
"(y/n), you don't owe me anything. it's just a thank you for doing such good work, so don't be a dumbass & try & pay me back or something," katsuki practically yawned. he was swimming in money, so much that he didn't know what to do with it, so what better way to spend it than on you? "besides, i was your age once. you need to save."
"you're not that much older than me, just a few years," you rolled your eyes. "also, i do have a quick question."
"what is it?"
you fished two pieces of paper out of your bag. "i think there was some sort of mistake? when i got my paycheck, i got two checks?"
"yeah?"
"well, it's just... i'm one person?"
katsuki laughed out loud. he loved toying with you; he knew what you were trying to ask, but hearing you dance around the question was just too cute.
"yeah, i know that, (y/n)."
"katsuki, i'm serious!" you half-joked, half-said. "why did you send me two checks?"
"one is your payroll check," he told you; you nodded. "the other is your bonus." you had to stop yourself from dropping your jaw
"wait, what? i still don't get it," you replied. "my paycheck is too much. i don't usually get this much."
"i gave you a raise," he said in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone. "didn't you read my email i sent?"
"o-oh... yes, of course-"
he shot you a look that said, "don't bullshit me."
"okay, i didn't... but still! i didn't even do anything to get a raise."
"whatever, just eat you food."
the next day, his heart swelled (more than usual) when you walked through the door. you were practically glowing in a new, clearly expensive outfit, your hair done, nails painted, & a gorgeous smile gracing your lips.
"someone's happy," he commented as he followed you to your cubicle. "what's the big deal?"
"i don't know, i just had a lot more money saved up than i thought so i decided to treat myself out," you admitted, gitty.
you dolled yourself up with the money he gave you. it only made him want to spoil you more, shower you with gifts & give you whatever you want.
"i'm glad you're enjoying your raise," he chuckled, a smirk on his face because, in his peripheral, he could see your coworkers' jaws drop in disbelief. he leaned close, brushed your silky hair away from your neck, behind your ear. katsuki whispered, "you've been so good, you deserve it." your face exploded into a shade of bright pink as you stuttered out a thank you.
you couldn't get that moment out of your head. the thought burned itself into your memory. it made your core throb. he was so close to your face, you could smell his expensive cologne. it was intoxicating. he made you just so desperate.
after a long work day, you got back to your cozy, one-bedroom apartment, and a package awaited your doorstep. katsuki, from a security camera he secretly installed, watched you bring it into your house. you went straight into your bedroom & placed it on your desk.
you spent so much already, what more could you have gotten? it's not like he's complaining. he's happy to provide for you. you're just so cute; you act like you've never seen money in your life. he wants to show you how good life can be with him.
you slid the blade of a pair of scissors across the tape of the box. eager, you unboxed the product, rubbing your thighs together.
"what are you up to, hm?" he whispered to himself. he chewed his lip, cock already semi-hard because of your after-work attire-- which was compression shorts & an oversized, white tee without a bra.
you ran to the bathroom, all he could hear was the water running. you were too quick for the camera to render. one minute you were your room, then the bathroom, then back into your room. there was a sneaky grin on your face as you hummed in approval.
your body was blocking what you bought until you walked away to grab something else from your bed stand drawer. katsuki's eyes widened. standing straight up (with a slight left curve) was a silicone dildo colored a fleshy pink. next to it was a ripped-open box that it came out of; "pro hero dynamight replica dildo! life-like! bring your dynamight dreams to life!" the box read.
he twitched, it was comical, could be considered creepy to some. but to him, it riled him up. this meant you wanted him, needed him, just as he needed you.
you swiftly came back to the toy with a bottle in hand. you laid a towel on your seat before sitting down. logging onto your computer, you couldn't help but feel utterly ashamed, embarrassed, but it's not like anyone is watching you, so no one would know. there was a knot pent up in your stomach, begging to be massaged out. you pulled up a video of your boss, the dynamight, where it was showcase of -what fans called- daddy/sexy/hot moments of his. you were so embarrassed, but he was the only one who could satisfy your craving.
god, i'm such a creep, you scolded yourself as you took off your shorts & panties. just an awful, horny weirdo, you thought. the toy you bought was big & girthy, & it was clearly artificial because there's no world where man can actually get that big, right? you prepped yourself by circling your clit with your middle finger, then dove into your wet hole with three fingers. you let out a sigh of ecstasy.
you poured lube onto your toy, then you began stroking it to coat every inch & "vein". katsuki already had his cock in his hand, matching the tempo of your strokes, beads of precum leaking out of his tip. "fuck, (y/n)," he muttered with his eyes glued to the screen. you're katsuki's little camgirl.
you took the dildo, closed your eyes, & began mentally preparing yourself for the toy. you've never taken anything this big. slowly, you pushed the dick into your wet pussy with your breath held. once it was half way inside, you let out a shaky groan, trying to adjust to the size. "ngh~ ah~ k-kats-suki," you whimpered, the video still playing clips of him.
"(y/n)," katsuki moaned back, wishing you could hear him. "put it all the way in."
you must've been put on this earth to obey him because, after he said that, you sunk the dildo into pussy. you let out a squeal; your eyes shot open only to roll in the back of you head. "so big," you whined. you waited for yourself to adjust. with your feet on the rests of the chair & one hand on your clit & the other one pumping the dildo in & out of your hole, katsuki started to screen record everything.
"harder, baby," he demanded, "go fuckin' harder."
you were in your own world, acting as though he were there with you. "p-please katsuki." you started to thrust the toy in all the way, taking it nearly out, then shoving it back in. you did it as fast as you could, but it still wasn't enough. you bucked your hips into the dildo. "uh~ mmm~ fuuuck."
while still in your pussy, you set your legs down & placed the base of the dildo on the chair. you started to ride the toy, its artificial veins wracking against your nerves, sending electric shocks up your spine. your ass & thighs jiggled every time you lifted your hips & shot them back down; katsuki was mesmerized.
his hand tightly jerked his hard cock, more precum leaking out. there was nothing else that mattered except you; his phone buzzed from notifications sent by his friends & colleagues. he couldn't tear his eyes from your sexy figure, bouncing up & down the dildo.
"k-katsuki! 'm cumming!" you moaned out. you threw your head back, mouth agape, your riding becoming erratic.
it was music to his ears-- you yelling his name. "baby, cum~" he replied, as if it were the real deal. as if you were actually there with him, as if you were the one squeezing his throbbing dick. he watched as your back arched & your body spasmed around the dildo. you kept calling out for katsuki until your high ran out. you cleaned up, hid the toy in your bottom drawer, did your nightly routine as if nothing happened, then went to sleep.
katsuki, still hard even after cumming, needed more.
the next day, you woke up with sore thighs & a distinct throb in between your legs. even after fucking yourself silly with the dynamight toy, it didn't satiate your hunger. you were embarrassed that you thought of your boss that way. you couldn't help but feel ashamed; it felt so good. it felt so good thinking, fantasizing, about katsuki's muscular physique, his thick, hard cock pumping in & out of you. it almost felt right to think of him that way.
while your head was still clouded with lust, you put on a black, lace thong under your pencil skirt that was just barely long enough to be considered work-appropriate. you wore translucent, black tights underneath & a cute pair of mary janes. your shirt was tight fitting. it eventuated every curve of your body in the most flattering way, &, feeling confident, you unbuttoned the first two to show a bit of your collarbone, nothing more. finally, you did your hair & makeup & cooked yourself a quick breakfast, then you were off to work.
at work, you just had an aura about you-- satisfied, calm, & joyful. you must've gotten a good night's rest, thought you coworkers.
katsuki knew better though.
as you strutted to his office, you had a pep -& a slight limp- to your step. you held a binder close to your chest. you felt like a stereotypical secretary in one of those cheesy, horny 2000's movies. you gently knocked on katsuki's office door, & heard a faint, "come in."
"good morning," you smiled as you sauntered closer to his mahogany desk. you plopped yourself down in the same seat you always do & set your binder down on his desk; he never minded.
he had his eyes trained on you, darker than usual, & greeted back, "good morning, (y/n). how are you?"
"i'm doing good, how are you?" you responded, an innocent smile flashed towards him.
you were anything but innocent, katsuki thought. "i'm actually having a tough morning." this shocked you because katsuki really didn't seem like the type to open up, especially to some random employee he hired.
"i'm sorry to hear that," you said, "can i ask why?"
"i've just been so... pent up," he told you, his jaw clenching for a second before he swallowed.
he didn't take his eyes off of you for a second, & you noticed. you squirmed under his serious gaze. "you are the number one hero right now. it's a lot of pressure," you tried to rationalize.
he stood up from his chair slowly, so you figured you must've overstepped. "i-i'm sorry, katsuki, i didn't mean it in a rude way," you defended, & he still hasn't responded.
he stalked closer to your chair until he was directly in front of you. you gulped, looking up at him. you didn't know whether it was appropriate to sit or stand, so you stayed still, sitting.
another awkward moment of silence passed, & you were about to look away when katsuki started, "the only other time i've been pent up like this was years ago."
"what made you stress so bad?"
"a saved a girl. she was beautiful, & i was dumb. i never got her name, i barely even talked to her. our encounter was brief, yet i couldn't take my mind off of her. for weeks, i was just so frustrated, i didn't know why. years passed & i thought i was finally over it, finally i came to terms that i would never again see her," he ranted, & you lowered gaze, breaking the eye contact. "i had searched everywhere for her. in every city i've ever visited, in every crowd that would form, in every building. i never found her. all my efforts, to waste."
you were sensitive, maybe too sensitive. your doe eyes teared up as you looked down at your lap. "i... i don't know why you're telling me this."
a warm hand cupped your chin; it guided your face upward, & there you were again, locking eyes with your boss. this time, your eyelashes stuck together with tears that have yet to fall. "i never found her, (y/n), & it hurt because i knew that i am the best for her. i gave up," he took a short pause, drinking in your defeated expression that you tried to mask, "until one day, she walked into my agency for an interview, a position she wasn't -at all- qualified for."
you swallowed the lump in your throat. "what are you saying?"
"(y/n), i've been so pent up lately," he restated, his hand still cupping your face while the other adjusted his pants. your eyes followed his other hand, widening. was he hard.. for you? "& i know you've been so stressed lately. it's such a big position, y'know. being my secretary, & all. i can understand why you're frustrated."
"i-i'm not frustrated, katsuki," you softly claimed.
he quirked a brow, his lips upturning into a smirk. "oh? is that so?" you nodded your head. "then i'm gonna need some help so i'm not as frustrated, do you think you can help me with that, hm?" he was taunting you, joking with you. he must've somehow found out about your secret crush on him, & now he's using this as a lesson then he's going to fire you.
still, foolishly, you replied, "i c-can help you with whatever you need, sir." his gentle grip turned harsh as soon as you shut your mouth. he forced you to look up, & he had an unreadable expression.
"now it's sir? what happened? you were so cute when you said my name," he growled, licking his lips. you were speechless, at a lost for words. "go on, tell me."
"i just don't want you to be mad at me," you said, cheeks flushed red. he was so close, he was making a fool of you, & he wouldn't stop staring at you. you succumbed to the mental pressure he was putting on you. you ripped your face from his vice grip as you started to ramble, turning your face away from him, "i-i don't know who told you i had a-a crush on you or whatever, b-but i was never gonna act on it, i swear! i-"
you were cut off by a sudden sting from your scalp; katsuki's fingers found themselves entangled in your silky hair. you let out a yelp in pain, & you instinctively yelled, "hey! what's your prob-" your tone lowered into a mumble, "-lem?"
your heart was beating out of you chest, just a few centimeters away from your parted lips was katsuki. in all of his glory. you had your eyes glued on him, scared to look down slightly. it was already in your sight of view. in one hand was your head, in the other was his hard, throbbing cock. "(y/n), you said you were gonna help me, didn't you?"
"uh huh," you said mindlessly as you held your breath. wide-eyed, your gaze flashed towards it then it went back up to him. he had a shit-eating smirk as he rested his heavy member in the middle of your face.
he commanded, "lick it." his cock was the length of your red hot face. he twitched when you looked at him, rubbing your thighs together.
"wh-wha?"
"i said, lick it, (y/n)."
you hesitated; you didn't even know where to begin. his length was tantalizing, girthy. his tip was leaking beads of precum. his balls were swollen & heavy. was this still a joke?
suddenly, katsuki yanked your head back. with your mouth wide open -due to the shocking pain of your hair getting pulled- he slammed his dick down your throat. his hands were on both sides of your head, & he was in complete control. "i don't like repeating myself," he harshly said, forcing you to spit all over his length. your hands shot up to his hips, & you tried to push him away, though you didn't want to.
you weren't used to such a big man; he's the biggest you've ever been with. you gagged on him, & he let out a sigh of pleasure. your eyes crossed with tears streaming down your face, your mascara ruined. your lungs started to burn & you tried to beg for air, but it only came out as muffled moans. katsuki, feeling merciful, pulled his cock out of your throat, leaving his tip on your tongue.
you inhaled deep, only deep throat him again. he repeated that action -pulling himself then shoving himself back into your warm mouth- every time going more rough. he fucked your mouth, strings of precum & spit leaking onto your lap. you didn't even realize that katsuki released his grip on you until your shirt was torn off your body.
you let out a squeal that was muted by him. "fuck, (y/n)~" your boss moaned out, unbuttoning his own shirt. "you're such a good girl f' me." through your teary eyes, you saw katsuki throw his head back.
"need you," he said. " baby, i need your pussy right fuckin' now." katsuki took himself out of your mouth, leaving you with tongue hanging out of your mouth like an animal.
he made you stand up, then he crashed his lips onto your swollen, lipstick-smeared ones. sloppily, his tongue left nowhere untouched, & all you could do was moan as he overwhelmed you. his hands caressed every part of you. he groped your tits through your bra, he squeezed the fat of your ass through your skirt, & he rubbed your clit through your stained thong. your hips started to grind on his slender fingers. "katsuki~" you said in between kisses.
that was enough to make him feral (as if it weren't already). he let out a low growl as he turned you around. katsuki, with one hand, bent you over his desk, ass up in the air. he bunched your skirt around your waist, exposing you. katsuki needed you right in that moment, so he ripped a hole in your stockings & moved your string -that's supposed to be your undergarments- out of the way. he rubbed his tip along your folds; katsuki could almost salivate. after all this years of fantasizing & frustrations, here you were, underneath his bulking size, wet & ready for him.
"please use me, sir," you cried out in a hushed, yet urgent, voice. you were begging for him. i have to be dreaming, he thought. the moment he penetrates you, he's going to wake up, he's sure of it. you had your back arched, & you looked back at him, eyes half-lidded & cheeks flushed. "take out your frustrations."
he wanted to resist, he didn't want to wake up from this ecstasy dream. but he was just a man, & pure instincts took over.
katsuki lined up his cock with your entrance & snapped his hips forward, plunging himself ball-deep into your pussy. hands clasped over your mouth, you let out a scream. he was splitting you apart, your walls stretched out to accommodate his length & girth. your dynamight toy undersold him.
katsuki, in pure bliss, stood still for a second. he drank in everything that was happening, how this wasn't a dream anymore. you were so tight & desperate, sucking him in deeper. your juices stained your ripped stockings as it dripped down your thighs. slowly & shallow, he rocked his hips against you, grinding.
soon his grinding became primal. anything that has ever stressed him was put into his thrusts, & all you could do was lay there & take it. he pistoned in & out of you, hitting your g-spot every single time. you creamed, & came, & creamed again as he abused your sensitive spot. slaps & squelches bounced off the office walls. katsuki fucked you harder into the desk, trying to make you spasm all over his cock for the fifth time when-
brring! brring!
"what the fuck," he groaned. katuski's office phone broke the sounds of years of frustration. his harsh thrusts turned half-assed as he took a glance at the phone. "DEKU," the contact name read.
"goddamn it," muttered katsuki, "god fucking damn it." that's what he gets for bullying him all those years, i guess.
"y-you should a-answer that," you said, breathless. "it m-might be important."
"yeah, yeah. i know," katsuki said before slapping your ass. on the last ring, katsuki finally picked up the phone. you thought that, out of curtsy for deku, he would've pulled out or something, but no. he was still stretching you out & he showed no intentions on pulling out.
you, by accident, squeezed his cock, your body was trying to milk him. katsuki shot you a dirty smirk while he was on the phone. "what do you want?" his gruff voice demanded.
control yourself, (y/n), you thought to yourself, you're gonna get caught if you make a sound.
katsuki, on the other hand, had one mission: make you lose composure. honestly, it's a win-win. deku hangs up the phone, & everyone will know that you're his. katsuki pressed the phone between his ear & shoulder by tilting his head while his hands gripped your hips. hand-print bruises would be left in their wake, but you didn't care.
katsuki was hitting your cervix, & that was all you could focus on. you bit your lip until it was raw, your hands clasped so tight around your mouth until it was hard to breath, & you still were letting out whimpers.
deku said, "are we still going to have that meeting this afternoon?"
katsuki kept thrusting in & out of you, just a slightly bit more gentle (but not by much). "what?" he replied. he noticed your pussy tighten, squeezing him.
"kaachan, our meeting? this afternoon? at 2:30?"
"yeah, fuckin' cancel that," he told him. katsuki, with one hand still in your hip, grabbed a fist full of your hair & pulled you up. you stood with your back arched, dick impaling you, & your hands draped to your side. your mouth was fully open with your tongue hanging out. you were so close to the phone, any sound you make would be heard.
"you can't just cancel our meeting," deku sighed. "what are you doing that is more important?"
god, deku really knew how to get under katsuki's skin. just the tone of his voice made him made, so, naturally, he took it out on your poor body. faster, he pumped his cock in & out of you, your tits spilled out of your bra & your tits jiggled with each thrust. "please," you mouthed. you were so close to cumming, & you couldn't keep it in any longer. you were starting to see white stars clouding your vision.
"i'm busy fucking, okay?" katsuki yelled into the phone, eyes trained on you like a hawk.
"wh-what?" deku sputtered out, "what did you say?" you clenched, you were so close to getting caught by the number two pro hero.
"i said, i'm fuckin' busy," &, with that, he slammed the phone down to end the call. "you. fuckin. slut." he pounded you, & you let him use your tight pussy. his fat cock slammed in & out of you relentlessly. "i bet you wanted to get caught, huh? you just want to get caught?"
"n-no! i-i don't wanna!" you told him through hiccups.
"then what we're you trying to pull?" katsuki sneered, giving a light tug to your hair. your scalp was already aching terribly good. his hand dove in between your legs. his fingers started to rub your clit while he was still balls deep inside of your hole.
"n-nothing!" you cried followed by a breath of moans. "'suki, please~ it's too much." you began to see little white stars cloud your vision. it couldn't have been more than forty-five minutes, but you can't even remember how many times you've came. you were passed the point of overstimulation, whatever that is. "i-i-" you couldn't even get another sentence out, just muttering words & trying not to scream out in overwhelming pleasure.
"you're- you're-" katsuki mocked, and he finally let go of your -now- knotted hair. you collapsed on the desk, but his hand was still toying with your clit. your small hands gripped onto his forearm. you tried to push his hand away from your sensitive spot in hopes of getting a break. instead, he kept his position while his other hand winded back & smack! a red handprint gracing your ass. "you said i could use you, remember? thought you could handle, babe," sneered katsuki into your ear. "not only are you my slut, but you're also a dirty liar."
the vice grip he had on your hip released, then his arm snaked around your neck. your chin rested where his arm bent. with every thrust, he would flex his arms, & your throat was caught in between his thick forearm & bicep. "no, i'm not," you squeaked out. your thoughts, your words, everything would get interrupted by his constant choking.
you were still such a brat, defying him. it made it more interesting, katsuki would admit. it also made him rationalize that you deserved all the overstimulation, pounding, & bruising you've received-- & have yet to receive. "oh, you're not?"
"n-no," you droned into another moan.
"so you've never thought about this? about us? about me?"
"n-"
he tightened his muscles, constricting your airway. "tell. the. fuckin'. truth," he commanded, god, he wanted to humiliate you.
&, as if on cue, you gave in. "i-i've thought 'bout y-you," you told him through whimpers. you could feel your juices leak out of you.
"good girl," katsuki purred, playing with your clit more rough. pleasure jolted up your spine, the white stars turning into tunnel vision. katsuki felt your head drop slightly, you were losing focus. your sight was blurry from the mascara & tears. "stay with me, (y/n)."
"uh huh," mindlessly, you nodded. you didn't know if you could orgasm anymore, yet you still felt that all-too-familiar knot in your stomach. your clit was swollen, your g-spot abused, throat hurting from his cock & the pressure around it. you didn't care, you've never felt more safe. "pl-please c-cum with me," you begged.
katsuki twitched inside of you. he chuckled, "if you beg like that, i don't think i can hold back, babe."
the pet names sounded like music to your ears, & a sudden rush of motivation coursed through your veins. "katsuki~" you whined, voice high-pitched.
"(y/n)," he growled lowly. was it a warning? perhaps. you didn't care, he could punish you if he ever so pleased.
"'need your cum."
"sh-" he stuttered, &, just like that, the tables were turned. "shut up.
katsuki's cool composure was slipping. giddy & still driven by pleasure & motivation, you said, "please~ i need you."
"fuck, baby."
"i-i need you to fill me up."
katsuki tensed, his arms choking you. his thrusts were erratic & shallow. every sensation -you squeezing his cock, you wetness seeping out of your pussy, all of it- was amplified. he drove his hips forward, his tip stuffed inside your cervix. "t-take it," he huffed out.
not even a second later, jets of hot cum exploded inside of you. his warmth filled you, just as you asked. he painted your pussy white, & you came all over him for a final time, your pussy pulsating, milking him for every drop. the two of you stayed in that position, relaxed. he held you in his embrace, heavy breaths on your skin. katsuki pressed butterfly kisses along nape of your neck lazily. "so good f' me," he praised into your ear as he grazed your side with his fingertips. "so beautiful."
you hummed in respond. "you're my girl, aren't you?"
"only if you take me out to dinner after this," you joked, this was just a hookup because there's no way he would think of you as anything more, you figured.
"of course, whatever you want," he responded to your surprised. he pulled out of pussy, cum leaking out of your hole. he didn't care; no, he was proud. he sat you on his lap, forehead pressed against yours. katsuki, with his thumb, stroked your cheek & sang you sweet nothings. "you took me so well. i didn't go too hard, did i? you're mine," he would say.
"katsuki?"
"yes, princess?"
"why are you still hard?"
568 notes · View notes
otterloreart · 7 days
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MLP-Takara generations: a design experiment
Takara MLPs are considered generation 1 My Little Pony; the original ponies look like little horses and the takaras are obviously very different.
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But the standard MLP toyline underwent a lot of changes throughout the years... so, if the takaras had been successful, what would their changes look like?
Generation 1 year 2+ takaras.
Year one MLP was only a few ponies with a single color of body + matching hair... just like the takaras. It was year 2 that they introduced unicorns. pegasus, and seaponies.
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You all know I've already been concepting these so it's not surprising at all. As MLP g1 went on, they ended up doing more and more gimmicks throughout the 80s which would also be kind of fun to see the takaras do... (hint hint if you want me to draw those lmk which gimmicks are your favorites)
I also think they should bring in markings like the normal ponies but that could be part of the gimmicks. Maybe on their cheeks, or on their bellies like care bears?
In the later years og MLP also had a lot of variations on the normal pony body type, so maybe you could also see the takaras with that kind of variant, so that might be cute:
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Moving on!
Generation 2
If you aren't big into early gen My Little Pony you might not know that generation 2 didn't do very well; it was a reboot of a beloved franchise, it was new, and different, and all that jazz:
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Main differences between them and g1: first, you can see they have a very late G1-type body, which is why I pointed out the thinner pony in g1. Their face is less detailed and rounder, but they have a little more expression, very smiley.
Their ears have a more horse-y curled in shape, they have fur around their hooves (in g1 only the boy ponies had hoof floof), and they have a gem in their eye.
Also they had a lot more moving-leg gimmicks where you could push one part of their body and another would move (eg push tail -> bobs head)
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So you may ask, how am I could to g2-ify the takaras? After all, they are already much rounder than the g1 ponies. Well, I'm not going to make them just *look like* the g2 ponies, although I'll borrow more elements.
Instead: I am going to take and exaggerate all of the differences that I listed above and see what we come up with.
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So! Here is my idea for g2 takara pony. I feel like its the exact balance of very cute and something that would upset collectors familiar with the original takaras, just as g2 upset the g1 fans.
First off, she's thinner, the iconic takara nose is removed in favor of a sculpt with a smiling mouth, the legs are more horse shaped with fluff and human fingers to match the additional foot detail. a lot of people find the g2s a little "uncanny" so I feel like this works.
The sparkley eye gem and ear shape are just straight off the original g2s, just to have extra gimmick to it (also the og takaras basically had the g1 ears)
g2 came out in the late 90s so I like to imagine the pony eyes would be extra shoujo too
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Finally, a ball jointed head for more flexibility. (yes the arm would be posed like that in the doll, because its a more dynamic pose, and we can also assume that the larger size allows the doll to have a joint with more flexibility)
g2 had pretty similar gimmicks to g1 but also had some light up ponies, so maybe the takaras could have some with that gimmick too
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fun fact, g2 MLP was sold for a longer time in Europe and performed better there.
Generation 3
Generation 3 ponies are a pretty clear return to g1 MLP style, kinda scrapping most of the changes g2 made, other than proportionally thinning out the ponies a bit.
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g3 ponies have very similar face sculpts with bigger eyes, nearly the same legs, and their heads just a bit bigger in proportion to their body
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They do remind me a lot of the g1 Petite ponies, which were 1 inch sculptures that also had those proportionally bigger eyes and chunkier legs.
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I have here included the g1 so you can see the slight changes better! I think the main difference would be the g3 takara would be a lot rounder, smoother, and cutesy-er. While the original has the hello-kitty simple cute look, the g3 version would definitely have like eyelashes and big eyes.
The only other thing to note about the body is some bigger ears, a generally rounder face, and round feet.
There weren't many gimmicks super /unique/ to g3 but one I wanted to highlight was the Breezies. G1 did have the flutter ponys, which were ponies with butterfly/dragonfly type wings, but the breezies are like their own little species AND they have antennae. While the flutter ponies were sort of graceful and thinner than the other ponies, the breezies are like little chibi-er ponies.
A little bit Littlest Pet Shop-core, since its the early 2000s too.
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SPEAKING OF
Generation 4 Generation 3.5
Before there was gen4 there was a subset of Gen3 ponies with a different and unique style. They were basically an exaggerated version of the Breezies with even bigger feet and tinier snouts. They are also VERY littlest-pet-shop-core.
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So, pretty straightforward changes
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Just an even more chibi, kid-ish style pony. I think the g3.5 ponies were even meant to be kids. So this is just an even more child-friendly, littlest pet shop type horsey.
Generation 4
So, obviously generation 4 ushered in a whole new era of My Little Pony with its unique and bright artstyle, which did need to transfer over to the ponies
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Personally, while I love g4 in a lot of ways im not a fan of the toys in the same way I am the other generations, their little noses have shrunk to specks, they're skinnier and more big-eyed than ever. Well, g3.5 was pretty big-eyed but at least those ones were like little kids.
This is such a drastic shift from g1/g3 and even g4, I would be unsure about the takaras.
So: eyes, bigger. Snout, so tiny and so smooth. Ears, bigger. Hooves are flatter and parts of the legs are just kinda featureless. a longer neck. They released a decent amount of ponies with plastic hair this gen, too.
I was struggling to come up with a doll for this one, but I finally realized I was doing it backwards. The thing that makes g4 stand out, I think, is the fact it was fundamentally designed opposite from g1. Lauren Faust, an animator, designed the ponies and the toys had to be designed around her art.
So the primary difference was considering what a tv show- a tv show concieved in the 2000s and airing in 2010s- and I did look into some kids properties from that time period as I was designing
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I think these Strawberry shortcake dolls are really close to the concept I'd want for a early 2010s mirror of MLP g4. So basically these toys but more anthro.
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I ended up making a 3D mockup so I'd be able to plan the different angles and keep them consistent.
The eyes are kind of far apart but I think thats true of the g4 pony toys as well. Again, because of the way the g4 show was stylized as animation, there was sort of cheating with the anatomy, especially on the face.
Generation 4.5
Gen 4.5 was a spinoff of gen4, just like gen3 had 3.5 where the ponies are more chibi. More big eyes with even bigger ears and a face like... a cats? instead of a horse. Hoof fluff again.
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I think this nailed the style without being as much of an outright copy. The bendy arms with fingers seem so silly but also I think that matches the vibe/artstyle.
G4.5 don't look like horses to me really at all though, they're like cats with hooves. Out of all of them we've seen so far they're suffering the most from "predator eyes" where they've gone so far as to make their eyes just face forward.
Generation 5
Generation 5 premiered with a CGI movie, so the toys that would be released are fairly on model with their movie selves except for the fact their heads are smack dab in the middle of their neck which i find extremely unsettling and dislike
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We've gone full "predator eyes" (no the predator eyes thing doesnt 100% biologically hold up but I find them freaky and I get to say it) AND full human eyebrows stenciled in like a makeup vlogger in the same color as the hair.
The ears are back to cup shaped (more horselike) but again the face is round with a little muzzle (more catlike). The hooves have really detailed feathering on the legs. Otherwise the body is mostly just structured like the g4 body (except a bit longer) just with more specific horse details.
These continued the trend of having a lot more articulated versions with moving legs as well. I think given that most dolls these days have articulated elbows and knees, it is reasonable to expect the takara g5 dolls would too.
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Again, I made a 3D model so I could keep it consistent from various angles.
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ta-daaaa heres my takara pony generations 1-5 lineup! Tell me which youuuuur favorite are. if you want.
173 notes · View notes
cupid-styles · 7 months
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touch me here (sugar daddy h)
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the final fall/halloween-themed blurb !!!! thank you so much to everyone who read, reblogged, liked etc etc etc any of the writing I put out this month. it was definitely a challenge to post twice a week but I'm so happy to be rounding it out with this reader's choice blurb :))))
in which mia and harry celebrate halloween at a sex club, things get spicy, and harry realizes something big
word count: 2.1k
content warnings: smut (exhibitionism, dirty talk, cum play, voyeurism, daddy kink, a tiny bit of degradation and impact play if you squint, description of facials/multiple partners in a mmf threesome)
masterlist | talk to me
fall/halloween blurb masterlist
. . .
"You wanna go where?"
In Harry's classic, slightly annoying way, he lets out a cackle before taking a sip of his wine. Mia's jaw is still slack, a look of confusion and shock clearly etched on her face. She's not sure why her boyfriend isn't more surprised that his suggestion elicited this type of reaction, but part of her assumes he's just messing with her for his own weird entertainment.
"A sex club," he shrugs nonchalantly, and Mia wishes he would spill his wine on the crisp button down he wore to work today, "I've gone a couple of times and I like it. They're throwing some sort of Halloween event, figured it could be fun."
"You've gone?" 
He nods, "Yeah, before we met, of course. There's no pressure, it's all anonymous. Since we don't have any plans for Halloween—"
"I told you Rena is throwing a party—"
"And I'm not going to a student-thrown party," he says through furrowed brows as Mia's shoulders deflate, "This could be something fun. Different."
She worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she attempts to conceptualize it, but she doesn't know the first thing about sex clubs, so it's difficult to even imagine what it would be like. Harry can tell her anxiety is quickly growing so he sets his glass down on the coffee table and places his hand on her thigh, giving it a small squeeze.
"We don't have to, baby. It was just an idea. No pressure."
"I just... what is it like?" she asks softly, and his eyes widen slightly at her piqued interest.
"It's intense, but also laidback if that makes sense," he says, his throat bobbing as he swallows, "You can watch or you can partake, or you can just sit and talk to people. You get a wristband if you're not interested in chatting with strangers or joining certain... situations. So, we would both wear them since we'd go together."
She nods, and he continues when she doesn't outwardly reject the idea.
"There's lockers when you come in so you can lock your phone up, so no one will ever be able to take pictures or videos or anything," he murmurs, moving his hand up to her hip, "It's... my experiences have all been very good."
Mia rolls her lips into her mouth, her core fluttering as she thinks about what Harry might have done at this mysterious club. She knows he would tell her if she asked, but she imagines him pressed between bodies, kisses sloppy with spit, him being the mean dominant she adores him to be — all as people watch on, wishing they could be lucky enough to touch him. It makes her skin pebble with goosebumps, a shudder traveling down her spine. 
"Yeah, okay," she says breathily, and Harry takes notice of the way she's squeezing her thighs together, "We can do that."
. . .
Mia thinks she may ask Harry to dress up as a greaser once a week.
She can't stop grazing over the sharpness of his jawline and his newly colored hair (courtesy of some messy temporary black dye that will surely take him weeks to rinse out of his shower). His biceps are bulging beneath the formfitting tank top he's wearing, forcing her to take another sip of her Halloween-themed drink so she didn't say something stupid about how hot he looks. 
Much to Mia's surprise, the sex club she and Harry went to tonight is actually... nice. She knew he would never attend, let alone take her somewhere, unsafe or gross, but in her mind, she built it up to be more akin to a strip club of some sorts. This is anything but — they signed in at the front, provided official identification to ensure they weren't minors or had criminal backgrounds, and even had to have STI testing done within the week to prove they were both clean. After that, they locked up their phones and any other technology they had on their persons; Mia swallowing nervously when she realized this was technically when she was supposed to take off her clothes to reveal the costume — or lack thereof, really — she wore tonight.
She didn't give Harry much an inkling prior to getting here, instead just telling him that she had everything figured out. In reality, once they decided on their Halloween plans, she took to Pinterest to find costumes she could wear a set of lingerie for, eventually settling on some sort of sexy bat. It was a poor excuse for Halloween, but Harry's jaw nearly dropped to the floor when she disrobed, revealing a velvet black bodysuit, a leather harness strapped over her torso, and a lacy collar around her neck to resemble bat ears.
"You're going to fucking kill me," he muttered, pushing her up against the cool lockers, his thumbs digging into her hipbones, "Or you just want me to kill every person who looks at you in there."
She'd just smirked cheekily and slipped out of his grasp. 
Which, all of that being said, is how they ended up here. 
They both wore red bracelets around their wrists, signifying that they're not open to anyone else joining. They hadn't really discussed what their plans were for the night, instead just agreeing that they'd do whatever made them most comfortable, even if that meant just renting a room upstairs to be in private. However, Mia didn't expect to sit on the sidelines next to Harry, his hand wrapped protectively over her stocking-clad thigh, as they watch a beautiful blonde girl deep throat two guys.
"Are you doing alright?" Harry asks, his voice barely above a whisper, "I know it's intense. We can leave at any time."
Instead, she just nods, her bottom lip tucked under her teeth. "No, I... I like it. I'm okay."
He smirks, his fingers dancing along the inside of her thigh. "Is this turning you on, sweetheart?"
Again, she nods, her eyes glued to the slight bulge in the girl's throat from sucking one of the men off.
"Do you want to go upstairs so I can touch this pretty pussy?"
Mia swallows and tears her gaze away from the show in front of them. She wraps her hand around his wrist and gently pushes it closer to her core, panting slightly as she watches the cogs turn in his brain.
"You want me to touch you here?" he asks through raised eyebrows, "Are y'sure baby? There's no pressure just because other people are doing that."
He's right, there's a few other couplings and trios on the side also watching, touching themselves or the people they're with. Realistically, though, it's the only reason why she feels comfortable enough to request this from him, knowing that she likely won't be the object of anyone's affection.
"If you want to," she breathes out, "We can go upstairs if you'd prefer— I'm fine with whatever."
Harry chuckles. "I'm perfectly okay with showing off daddy's sweet pussy knowing that no one else can get a taste."
She shudders at that, her eyes fluttering closed as he uses featherlight strokes to brush over the covered clit. 
"But you know the safe word, hm?" he asks, pressing a kiss to her temple, "Any time, we're done."
"Yes, daddy."
He lets out a groan and gently pulls her into his lap, spreading her thighs over his own. He makes quick work to push her bodysuit out of the way, revealing her glistening lips to the room, her hole already pulsating just at the thought of being so open. She can feel his erection pressing into her back, wanting nothing more to twist her body around so she can bounce on his cock, but the thought is too nerve-wracking for her to take action.
She sighs out in relief when he begins to run his fingertips over her clit, lulling her head back against his shoulder. He smiles gently and kisses her hair, his chest vibrating as he speaks lowly into her ear. 
"Do you like watching them?" 
She nods, biting her lip. "She's pretty."
"Yeah?" he smirks, "Do you like being watched?"
"'s fun. Like knowing people can see." she murmurs. He winds his other arm around her waist and tugs at the harness around her chest, a gasp leaving her mouth. 
"I like this. Did you wear it for them or for me?"
"You, daddy."
Harry hums and moves his hand up to her mouth, plucking at her bottom lip. She gets the hint immediately and unhinges her jaw, allowing him to sink his thumb inside. She sucks greedily and he pushes a finger into her pulsating hole, the sound of her moan muffled. 
"There you go, baby," he grunts as she grinds her hips lightly, the friction going straight to his plumping length. "Just take it like the good girl you are, hm?"
Her walls clench around his finger, the praise going straight to her pussy. With a smirk, he begins to thumb at her clit, rubbing small circles into the bundle of nerves. 
"Fuck," she whimpers. He's pumping steadily and she swears she can feel her arousal dripping down to Harry's pants as she watches one of the men finish on the blonde girl's face. With her eyes flutter back open, streaks of cum dripping over the apples of her cheeks and down to her mouth, Mia gasps. Harry realizes it at the same time, her hips stalling — the main event of the show, the girl in the middle of the room, is staring straight at them.
He knows being directly under the gaze of someone may make her uncomfortable so he pauses, giving her the opportunity to murmur out her safe word. He's half expecting her to, but instead, she grinds down against his cock, hand wrapped around his wrist to tug at her harness again. 
"Keep going."
The girl's eyes are still on Mia as she takes to working on the other man's length, cum still dripping down her features. He glances down to look at her, and he smirks devilishly when he sees that she's gazing right back at her. 
"You like her watching you?" Harry asks, dipping down to take her earlobe between his teeth. She nods eagerly and he pushes a second finger inside, her eyes rolling back slightly.
"Naughty fuckin' girl," he mutters, "She's staring at your pretty little pussy, baby. Watching it gush around my fingers."
"Oh my god."
Her limbs are jelly under his touch, the dirty phrases he's whispering into her ear just pushing her further and further to the end of her rope. It's all so much, but she loves it — loves the way he knows how to wind her body up perfectly, two fingers knuckle deep with his thumb pressing circles into her sensitive clit, murmuring reminders to keep looking at the girl so she watches her come.
When the second man explodes into her mouth, drips of cum from both loads drooling out the sides of her mouth, it's what finally sends Mia over the edge. Her legs shake and her walls throb as Harry works her through her orgasm, a look of pride painted over his features as he watches her.
"There's my pretty girl," he purrs, the squelching between her legs making Mia tremble, "Came all over daddy's fingers like the little slut you are, hm? Open up, want you to taste yourself."
Through hazy eyes, she does as she's told, dropping her mouth open so he can shove his fingers inside. She sucks eagerly despite her tired demeanor, licking off every drop of her arousal. Harry smirks and kisses her temple, using his other hand to brush her hair behind her back. 
"Good girl. Did so good for me."
She smiles lazily up at him and his smirk morphs to a grin as she presses a soft kiss to his lips. 
"That was fun." she mumbles against him. He nods, running his fingertips down her spine comfortingly. "Can I do you now?"
He chuckles lightly at her enthusiasm, "Think we've given people enough of a show tonight, sweetheart. Kinda wanna just take you home and soak in the bath."
Her eyes light up at that and it makes Harry's heart squeeze inside his chest. 
"Really?"
"Course," he answers easily, "Even bought us a Halloween-themed bath bomb. Figured it would be fun to try."
"You're perfect." Mia murmurs between kisses to each of his cheeks, a laugh reverberating from his chest.
"I just made you cum in a sex club and that's what makes me perfect?"
"Mhm," she nods, fixing her bodysuit so her bottom half is covered back up. She carefully gets off of Harry's lap and steps in front of him, reaching out for his hands. "C'mon, I miss the heated floors in your bathroom."
Harry cackles loudly at that and follows her into the locker room, where they grab their phones and Mia puts her dress back on, covering the lingerie she'd worn for the night.
He won't tell her tonight, not wanting to fog the existing intimacy of the evening, but he knows for a fact as they wait for an Uber outside the club, bundled up together while she babbles on about how much she loves his heated floors: He's undoubtedly in love with the girl wrapped up in his arms.
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mangekyuou · 1 month
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★ the new intern portgas d. ace, my beloved.
cw: nsfw. f!reader. afab!reader. ace is from the south idk. takes place in the states for some reason again idk. i was just writing lmaoo. reader wears a skirt. not proofread. hear me out. MINORS DNI.
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── intern!ace who has recently started his internship at your company you have only been at for almost a year. mentoring him is somehow pushed onto you despite any of your colleagues being here longer than you and having much more experience in mentoring. you’ve never done this before. you try your absolute damnedest to get out of it but no one seems interested in relieving you of the responsibility. so best of luck to you
── intern!ace who is unlike anything you’ve seen before. why would a rowdy man start an internship at an office where he’d just be behind his desk or in meetings all day?
── intern!ace who never went anywhere without that distractingly bright orange hat.
── intern!ace who has a southern drawl about him, you aren’t surprised to learn he comes from somewhere down south. he has a special way of speaking that you, born and raised up north, struggled with understanding his creative idioms.
── intern!ace who you could always hear before you could see whether it was his loud mouth or the loud clicking of those ostrich skin square toe boots he was so proud of covered by his long trousers. they were louder than your heels.
── intern!ace who has a load of questions and is at your office door every five minutes. you’ve even started to recognize him by his knock. he always greeted you with a wooden toothpick between his plump lips.
── intern!ace who is a very respectful man who cares a lot about honorifics. that’s how he was raised. you are his mentor, his senior. he can’t just call you by your name. what kind of man would he be? you have become, miss.
── intern!ace who is very friendly, very touchy, but sweet as candy. you chalked it up to southern hospitality that you have yet to experience. when you’re explaining something, he stands extra close, he’s almost touching you. when you’re coming in, he jogs in front of you to hold open the door. when you fix the problem he has, he compliments you. he always looks so amazed when in just a few clicks everything is fixed. you’re like his superhero.
── intern!ace who has made it a habit to eat with you. or wait to take his lunch until you’re done. you’re like his only friend in the office and he likes eating with you.
── intern!ace who gets onto you about forgetting your lunch and eating fast food all the time. a woman like you deserves a homecooked meal he’s made it a habit to bring you an extra lunch. he does it so much, he’s even got you your own lunchbox that’s your favorite color.
── intern!ace who doesn’t leave the office until you leave. he could be done for hours but he still wants to walk you to your car to make sure you get there safely. plus what if you get lonely being the only one in the office?
── intern!ace who worries that you overwork yourself only to never be recognized. he’s only been here a month and a half and he’s already noticed it. he is always ready to remind you that you’re too good for this job and that they don’t deserve you or your time.
── intern!ace who looks a little different. dressed in a tight white button-down that looked like he was going to pop out of any second. were his arms always that big? was his chest always that broad? what did he look like without the shirt on? was he hiding more freckles under there?
── intern!ace who isn’t a fool. he may have been born at night but it damn sure wasn’t last night. he sees how you’re eyeballing him, undressing him with your eyes. he’s flattered. he’s always thought you were a beauty too, pretty as a peach, hotter than a fire in july.
── intern!ace who once again doesn’t leave with everyone else, he stays to keep you company. though this time he is bold enough to stay with you in your office until you’re ready to go. he’s distracting you with his presence alone. how are you supposed to finish when he’s sitting there with the top buttons of his shirt undone because it’s a little warm in here? he sprawled out on the chair, his legs open and his hat resting over his face because he wanted to 'rest his eyes'. you never noticed how built he was…how nice and lonely his lap looked. maybe it was kinda warm in here.
── intern!ace who hears you shuffle in your seat and hears you call out to him. he sits back up, taking his hat off of your face. you ask for his help, something you’ve never done before. he’s honored. he steps behind your desk to see the problem, to see exactly what you’re stuck on. it’s something simple, something you’ve helped him with before. why were you struggling now? maybe you wanted to test his knowledge, maybe you wanted to have him closer.
── intern!ace who stands behind your chair, reaching over the side of you to grab the mouse while his other strong hand rests on the back of your chair. you take on his warm, heavenly scent. it was intoxicating, you could hardly focus, and you hadn't heard a word he uttered.
── intern!ace who must come even closer, to actually finish your report so he can use the keyboard. he is particularly towering over you as he types so slowly. the tension in the room was so high. you cross your legs making your skirt ride up your thighs a little. with your eyes stuck on your monitor, you fail to watch him bite down on his lip.
── intern!ace who steps back to let you send your report to the boss before spinning your chair around to face him. there is one more work-related question he needs to ask you before you go home for the night.
── intern!ace who is a liar. it’s not work-related at all. he just wanted to be dramatic.
── “can i kiss you? i’ve been wanting to for a while now. it’s been killing me not to”
── intern!ace who barely lets the word yes fade into the air before he’s captured your lips on his in a passionate kiss. he kissed you like a desperate man, like a man who has waited god knows how long.
── intern!ace whose hands fiddle with your top, unbuttoning it just enough to reveal your bra and remove the tie you wore to work today.
── “i love me a businesswoman in a tie. you’re the boss here tonight, miss”
── intern!ace who wants you to take the reins, to take charge, to take what you want from him tonight. anything you wanted you could have.
── intern!ace who followed your every command with “yes ma’am” that sent shivers down your spine.
── intern!ace who finds his face place to be is in between your legs, with your tie tied tightly around his wrists behind his back. your fingers locked into his hair as you pushed him as far as he could go into your sopping wet cunt that has already drenched the lower half of his face.
── “like this, miss?”
── intern!ace with a praise kink. he loves hearing you tell him how good he’s treating you. looking up at you through hooded eyes as he waits for your praise. it sends chills down his spine and makes his cock twitch and leak in his pants.
── intern!ace who doesn’t know how you got even hotter with his hat on top of your head, your face contorted in pleasure, your shirt unbuttoned and your little skirt pulled up to your waist. it was a picture that was never going to leave his mind. from now on, you had to wear his hat more often.
── intern!ace who has an oral fixation. he’s attached his plump lips to your throbbing bundle of nerves yet again like a starved man with his eyes closed in delight. he moaned and hummed against you. he loved how your body trembled underneath his tongue as you came for him yet again. he lapped up all of your juices without fail like you were his favorite meal.
── intern!ace who whines when you pull him off your cunt.
── intern!ace who loves it when you take ownership over him. he’s your intern. he's your boy. he’s your baby, only yours and he’ll do whatever it takes to please you. he wants to hear you say it. he needs to hear you say it when he’s got you over your desk, balls deep into your pussy, fucking you like he’s in heat as you hold onto your tie that’s wrapped around his neck. say he’s your baby when he’s fucking this rough, this deep. say you own all of him, as his balls slap against your tight, creamy cunt.
── intern!ace who only cums after you because your pleasure is first. he only cums when you tell him to. he needs to kiss you when he does, emptying his load deep into your pussy, something he wasn’t supposed to do. he lets you pull on the tie one more time for good measure since he couldn’t behave.
── intern!ace whose oral fixation comes back to bite you in the ass when he’s already back on his knees to lap up all of his cum out of your sensitive cunt.
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MANGEKYOU 2024 ── do not copy, repost, or translate my works onto this platform or any other !
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pahtoosh · 4 months
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mind reader
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[image ID: a distraught Sebastian Stan looking at a sheet of paper. the paper has three sections. the first has three boxes labeled "yes", "no", and the last one with ellipses. the second one has three boxes labeled "please", "hugs", and "kisses". the last section has scribbles. the first section is in black and white and uses a mature font, while the second section is colorful and uses a playful font. /.end ID]
masterlist
18+
wc: ~1000 words
warnings: crowded mall. reader goes nonverbal. fluff
a/n: this was requested by @valetim09 ! thank you so much for your patience <3 I also want to add that everyone has a different experience with going nonverbal. this story is a reflection of my own. if anyone has a different experience and would like to share, I'd love to listen so I can write something different next time!
pairing: mafia!daddy!bucky x gn!little!reader
summary: Bucky takes you to the mall and you go nonverbal.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾
“Just one more store okay? You’re doing so good for me, bubba.” Bucky praised. 
You took a deep breath, a difficult feat while your Daddy had you speed walking across the mall. He led you to a store full of bath and shower products. The storefront was brightly decorated for the holiday season, twinkle lights dangled behind animal statues posing with bottles of soap. This display would normally have you tugging on Bucky’s sleeve, begging to take a look, but today it was just another addition to your overstimulation. 
“Okay we just need to grab washcloths, lotion, and the bubble bath set for your little friend.” He squinted at the list.
“Sweetheart, which scent did you want to get for them? We’ve got bubblegum and blueberry written down but they’re also crossed out.”
He looked to you for a response but figured you might be distracted by the display shelf in front of you. 
“It’s okay, we’ll just get both. Let’s keep moving.” He darted back and forth between aisles, trying to gather everything as quickly as possible. Your daddy was so distracted, he didn’t notice how overwhelmed you were getting. All the different, potent scents in the store were no help. For the moment, the only thing you could do was hold onto Bucky’s sleeve with one hand and use your other to cover your nose. 
It took Bucky a while to find the items. By the time you finished checking out and walked back into the mall, it had gotten significantly more crowded. Ever the strategist, your daddy held all the shopping bags in his vibranium arm so he could wrap his other arm around you and move both of your bodies as one to a faster exit. 
He let out a relieved exhale once entering the parking lot. “Oh man, that crowd was crazy, wasn’t it?” Bucky loosened his grip so he could look at you. You were clearly listening, but didn’t respond. 
He looked at you curiously. “What happened to my little chatterbug?”
You simply tugged his shirt and pointed to the car. 
“Okay, we’ll go home, baby. I know that’s what you’ve been wanting.” Bucky looked both ways before stepping off the sidewalk and walking to the car with you. 
He helped you buckle into your seat and placed the shopping bags in the trunk before sitting in the driver’s seat. Some days Bucky would have a chauffeur so that he could sit in the backseat with you, but today was not one of those days. 
After making sure it was safe to go, he wasted no time before pulling out of the lot and driving home. Bucky wanted to ask you if something was wrong, but he knew you’d be more comfortable discussing it at home. He settled for softly playing your favorite music and glancing at you in the rear view mirror once in a while. 
When you reached the house, one of Bucky’s employees put away the shopping bags as he led you upstairs. 
“You doin’ okay, baby?” He asked, holding your hand as you two walked towards your room. 
You shook your head. 
“Can you use your big kid words and tell Daddy what’s going on?”
You shook your head again. He helped you sit on your bed while he stood in front of you. 
“Okay then,” Bucky said, placing a hand on his chin. He looked at you carefully, as if he could tell what you were thinking if he just looked hard enough.
“Are you feeling extra tiny today?”
You shrugged, still looking up at Bucky unblinkingly. 
“Did something happen at the mall?”
You shrugged again. 
“Let’s try something new, sweetheart.” He went to your desk and picked up a crayon and a sheet of paper. “Can Daddy use these?”
You nodded. 
Bucky crouched down at your desk while he wrote on the paper. As with everything he did, he looked completely focused. His concentration face was a familiar sight when paired with the large oak desk in his office, but it looked a little silly and out of place with your bright, plastic table. The only seats available were a few floor cushions. He settled for sitting on the floor as to not mess up your cushions with his “outside pants”. You craned your neck trying to see what your daddy was up to. You could just barely make out a few letters before he was finished. He drew a few more lines, then handed you the sheet of paper with a hard book underneath and a new crayon. 
“Daddy made some ‘buttons’ for you, okay. You press this one to say yes, this one for no, and this one for I’m not sure. This spot is for you to make your own buttons. And this spot is if you want to write more. Does this help?”
You pointed at the “yes” button. 
His eyes lit up, then he complimented you for being such a fast learner. 
“Can you tell Daddy why you aren’t speaking right now?”
“Mall. Too much,” you wrote. 
“You got overwhelmed at the mall, bubba? And now talking is too much?”
“Yes.”
He let the crease in his brow deepen before taking a breath and relaxing his features. “I know we were supposed to have dinner with Natty and your little friends today, but how about we push those plans to another day? We’ll have a quiet night with just us. See if we can calm this baby down.”
You gave him a small smile. “Yes.” Then you created a new button. “Please.”
Bucky chuckled. “Even when you’re not speaking you’re still the smartest, most polite baby in the entire world. Can I give you some kisses?”
“Yes.”
He peppered your face with kisses until you were giggling and smiling so hard it hurt. You took things easy for the rest of the night, just watching tv, eating the dinner Bucky made, and listening to him read a book. You kept the button sheet that Bucky made in a special folder in case something like this happened again. After you added two new buttons labeled “cuddles” and “kisses” of course.
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twelvemonkeyswere · 9 months
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I re-read Good Omens via audiobook and I just collected my favorite details
"Crowley rather liked people" is a quote I still love so much. Even though he is a demon with the job of making people upset each other, he likes humans. The contrast between what they make him do and how he experiences Earth.
That scene with the ducks where Crowley almost drowns a duck and Aziraphale is like "I say, my dear" and Crowley is like "Oh yes I forgot myself" and allows the duck to return to the surface. Crowley is usually very polite about the most unhinged things which I just find endearing
All the times Aziraphale calls Crowley "dear boy"
The fact Aziraphale has "exquisitely manicured" hands lmao. I like to think he does go to the manicurist, same as he has a proper barber in the show
Aziraphale blushes sometimes and often gives mean looks to customers to push them out of shop
I like the on-going theme in the Good Omens universe of wanting to build a better world for loved ones, but how that drive, when taken to an extreme, is self destructive. Adam says he'll make the earth good for the Them, and will make sure the Them will be protected and happy in it. But the Them don't want it, they understand Adam is acting out and is not thinking things through. There is no point in trying to possess something and bend it to will forcefully. It wouldn't be good. It wouldn't be of free will. It would make them just another of his whims and no one, either the Them or Adam, actually want that
Aziraphale thinks Crowley is a creature of God when you "get right down to it", which is a thought both meaner and kinder than he realizes
Crowley is described to have "a voice so laid-back you could lay a carpet on it"and it's my most favorite thing ever lmaooo
"You're seducing women here!" /"I think perhaps you got the wrong shop" is always a brilliant line
Even though everything in the Bently turns into Queen's Greatest Hits, I love that Crowley actually loves music, and keeps his collection of records highly organized
Also love the fact that Crowley keeps his apartment orderly, though that's probably in big part because he doesn't really live there
I do appreciate that Crowley sleeps because he wants to, not because he needs to. Truly a relatable guy.
There's a big HOLY SHIT moment in the audiobook - the speech the American evangelist gives about the apocalypse. It's fucking incredible. The actor is amazing, delivering fire and brimstone and absolute hatred and certainty until Aziraphale pops inside of him.
Death really is Azrael, literally the angel of death
Aziraphale comes up with the solution at the end but ONLY because of Crowley, who challenged Aziraphale about the difference between the great plan and ineffable plan at the very beginning of the book
There are many moments where both Crowley and Aziraphale are thought to be a gay couple, but it really made me laugh that they are at the end of the world, telling each other it's been a pleasure to know each other all this time, and then Shadwell interrupts to call them "Nancy Boys"
Everyone in the Good Omens fandom is right, I do love that in the book, the wings of demons and angels are the same color
Crowley thinks the biggest battle will be heaven and hell vs humanity. This has got me thinking a lot. I figure this is because at some point humanity will rebel against any divine intervention, once we figure out that heaven and hell have been playing dice with us. But we'll see.
It does warm my heart that the story begins and ends with a garden and with the eating of the apple - Adam doesn't know why the old man hates people touching his apples so much, but the world would be a lot less interesting if he didn't. It's a fitting end for a fitting beginning.
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itostea · 9 months
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about you (rin x reader)
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warnings: grumpy x sunshine!!! childhood friends to lovers, reader is delulu, image from our secret alliance
a/n: i had to title the fic about you since it was playing in the bg 😭😭
Being a teenage girl meant a few things. Consuming random content about silly romances and squealing over pixels; experimenting with make-up at 3 a.m; screaming at the top of your lungs to songs about heartbreak.
It also meant going delusional over your crush. In your situation, crush means your childhood friend, Rin Itoshi. Though he wasn’t yours. Not yet at least.
“Rinnie!” you greet him, not noticing the looks of bewilderment from his team. He’s calm, unlike his teammates or who he commonly refers to as npcs in his messages with you.
You already told him over the phone that you were going to visit him for a while. And to your surprise, he offered his place for you to stay at—telling you that it wasn’t a big deal since the house was too big for one person.
You think you must’ve saved a kingdom in your past life from how fortunate you’ve been lately. Like how even now, you were to manage to land early enough to visit him at practice. You’re so ecstatic that his team thinks you might be glowing.
“I found some sandwiches on my way here! You want some? Here let me go to you!” You chirp, running freely so freely that you don’t even notice the ball beneath your feet. Your ears pick up a few warnings and the sound of multiple footsteps. Yet your body picks up the feeling of a pair of strong arms and the familiar scent you’ve grown to love.
Disbelief washes over his team as they see how Rin quickly moved to catch you and their mouths are left open when they see him actually being gentle. You laugh awkwardly as you peer up at Rin who just sighs. “Idiot.”
“Hello to you too Rinnie,” you chuckle, letting him take your bag from you.
He frowns, seeing how the bags were piled with sandwiches. “Don’t call me that here. And why’d you buy so much?”
“For your team of course!”
“Why the hell would you spend your money on these shitheads—“
“Now c’mon Rinrin,” a deep voice snickers and you’re startled at the pair of pink hues that stare down at you. Your lips part, eying his tanned skin and hair of shades of blonde with pink streaks. “If a pretty lady’s offering to feed ya, you gotta say thank you right?”
“I didn’t ask you, antennaed freak. And stop calling me that.”
“Lighten up,” he grins, shifting his attention to you.
Your eyes widened in recognition, hands reaching to grab Rin’s arm—moving it so you could pull a wrapped sandwich out. “You must be Shidou right? I’m—“
“(Name) right? Heard all about you from this guy.” He takes the sandwich from, his hands purposely lingering on your palm.
Rin’s fast to shove Shidou’s hand off of yours. “Hands off.”
“What? You gonna make me?”
“You picking a fight—?“
“Rinnie talks about me?” You beam, ignoring the tension in the air. His teal-colored eyes widened, as if suddenly caught. You don’t let him stop you, instead making your way in between them to beam at Shidou. “What does he say?”
Shidou blinks, lips falling into a wide grin. “I might tell you if you let me take you ou—“
“Cut it out,” Rin’s voice interrupts, his eyes twitching in irritation.
“Are they good things?” You question, ignoring Rin’s look of exasperation.
“You bet. He talks about how pretty your eyes are and how he wants to kiss—“
“No I don’t,” your friend retorted sternly, sighing as he saw the hearts that were forming in your eyes. His hues take a moment to scan your appearance, noticing how you spent some time touching up. “You look different.”
“He means you look cute. Right Rinrin?” Shidou provokes.
“Really? That’s great because I’m trying to impress Rinnie right now!”
Both men watch in silence. You’re sure the whole field just heard that but Rin thinks you’re too oblivious to notice—sighing when you blink as a couple of his teammates give you a thumbs up as motivation.
Rin feels himself growing warm, red dusting his cheeks. He glances at you—how you smile so brightly at him. Only him. For a second, he forgets about the people around him, merely focusing on the way you grin at him. He would’ve enjoyed this moment longer if not for a shit-eating grin appearing next to him.
“Oh? Are you blushing Rin—?”
“Shut up antennaed freak,” he huffs, pulling on your arm. Rin’s eyes flit to you and how you eagerly anticipate his next move. He sighs. “We’re leaving.”
“We are? W-Wait the sandwiches!” You yelp, setting the basket on the ground as he drags you away from his team—his grip surprisingly gentle despite its firmness. You gesture at the basket, waving at his team who seem to be more bewildered at the sight of Rin pulling you away.
You smile as he opens his car door, ushering you in with a grunt. “Did you take a taxi here?”
“That’s right! Why? Did you want to pick me up instead?” you chirp.
He enters the driver’s seat, ignoring your question in his usual manner. He’s already reaching forthe seatbelt besides you, buckling you in—his scent filling your senses. Oddly enough, Rin doesn’t hear any playful remarks leaving your lips. Instead, he’s face-to-face with pursed lips and an expression that’s unmistakably embarrassment.
Oh shit, he thinks. Not again. That feeling swelling in his stomach returns, suffocating the car with tension. You’re not given much time to dwell on the pink that dusts his cheeks momentarily as he’s already reaching for his phone. “Here.”
The tension’s forgotten and it’s hard to slow your rapid heartbeat. You blink rapidly, your lips falling into a big grin once you realize his intentions. “I thought you hated my ‘lukewarm love songs.’”
“I never said that.”
“Oh? So you do like them!”
“I never said that either. Just take my phone already or else I’ll get mad. My arm’s hurting, idiot.”
“Liar. I know you like me too much to get mad,” you muse, taking his phone to open Spotify. You’re already humming to the first song that plays.
He knows you’re teasing but it’s hard to brush off the comment. Rin’s lips twitch, finding it amusing that some parts of you stayed the same since you two were children. You were always clinging onto him—making him listen to your random delusions or listen to you sob about some silly romance novel.
He knows you like stupid tropes about enemies to lovers and your strange obsession with sharing a bed. He knows that you have strange tastes and he’s never pass on making fun of you for that. He knows you like those cringey couple nicknames because they make you laugh. He also knows he doesn’t have a single romantic bone in him but for once, he doesn’t mind doing what the poets do.
You’re still humming, oblivious to what kind of thoughts linger in his brain. He hums. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“Right about what?” You ask, bemused at his sudden comment. He’s quiet, a ghost of a smirk on his face. You’re not sure if it’s the fact that About You by The 1975 is playing but the atmosphere makes you catch on far too quickly.
“Oh my god,” you say too quickly. “Rinnie do you like me? Rinnie? Stop the car! Rinnie tell me!”
Your constant pleading does little to dissuade him as he laughs silently to himself—the sight rare even for you. “You do! You do! You like me!”
“Shut up or else I’m taking the phone away.”
“That’s mean! Wait a minute, that means we’re dating now right? Does that mean I can call you pookie wookiee—?”
“No.”
“Oh you didn’t say no to us dating! You can’t take it back!”
He sighs again, smiling softly. Feelings are weird, Rin thinks. They’re even weirder when confronted but he doesn’t mind doing that when it’s for you. He sighs for the nth time.
“Idiot. Why would I take that back? You said it yourself. I like you too much.”
The car’s silent and About You is still playing. It’s silent and Rin can’t resist glancing over at you, his eyes widening slightly. He suddenly understands why you go so crazy for those books and shows of yours—the ones about love. Since seeing you wear such an expression is enough to make him realize that love isn’t so bad after all.
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marlynnofmany · 3 days
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Paws in a Circle
There’s a poster I saw once, back on Earth, that had a silhouette of a bear with deer antlers, and it was labeled “Beer.” I had forgotten about it completely until I met our newest client, who by that logic was definitely a beer.
I’d already done my part of the interaction by carrying out one of the heavier boxes, so while the captain went over the delivery fees with her, I was free to stare politely and decide which other Earth animals she resembled. (Fur coloring more like a red fox, and semi-upright posture that was less bear and more extinct giant ground sloth.)
I was so focused on watching the client handle the datapad with her giant paws that I completely missed it when the hovercar behind her sprung a fuel leak.
Paint saw it, though. “Oh! Your car!” she yelped, pointing. “I’ll get Mimi!” She was off in a flash of orange scales, back into the ship in search of our mechanic.
The client growled a swear word that didn’t translate, shoved the datapad back at Captain Sunlight, then galloped over to her car. While I expected her to throw open the hood in search of the part that was leaking, she instead made a beeline for the back seat.
When she threw open that door, I saw why.
“Kids! Out of the car! It’s not safe!”
A half dozen bundles of spotted yellow fur tumbled out, making distressed noises that didn’t need translating. They had tiny little antler buds and very big eyes.
Captain Sunlight was busy talking to someone through her communicator, probably Mimi. I stood there uselessly by the packages. What did I know about fuel leaks? Nothing helpful. I knew the puddle was growing by the second, and was probably flammable, but that was about it. And this backwater spaceport barely had an information booth, much less a local response team.
The client ushered her cubs over to where we stood just as Mimi and Paint returned. Blip and Blop followed with a big toolbox carried between them. Mimi was already taking charge and waving tentacles about, talking to the captain about the lack of reliable repair shops this far in the boonies, telling Blip and Blop how best to use their muscles in opening up the engine, and reassuring the customer that this was fine, actually, that model hovercar had a known issue with the fuel lines.
When the client dithered over minding her cubs and being present for the repairs, Captain Sunlight pointed a scaly yellow hand at me. “Our human can keep your little ones entertained. Bring them over here.”
“Uh,” I said.
Captain Sunlight looked up at me, still talking to the client. “She has extensive experience in tending to small furry creatures.”
I wanted to say that veterinarian training and childcare were two very different things, but I wasn’t about to make the captain look bad. And knowing Mimi, this would be quick.
The client said, “Thank you. Kids, you need to stay over here, okay? Next to these boxes, but don’t touch. Listen to the tall one. I’ll be right there helping fix the car.”
The tiny-voiced replies were recognizable words in the most common trade language, though their pronunciation made me clock them at around three or four years old in human years. They were very cute.
And they were suddenly my responsibility, all looking up at me like spotted teddy bears while the rest of the adults fretted about the car.
The questions were immediate.
“What are you?”
“Where’s your fur?”
“Did you lose it because you ate the wrong thing? Mommy says we have to eat our vi’mins so our fur doesn’t fall out.”
“Is this instead of fur?”
I freed the tiny paws tugging at my pants. “I’m not supposed to have fur. I’m a human. And yes, I wear clothes to keep me warm instead.”
“It looks funny.”
“Do you have to brush it?”
“Do you know any games?”
I brightened at that. “Games! Sure, I know some games.” I wracked my brain for something that would keep them entertained without causing new problems. “What kind of games do you like to play?”
They all answered at once in an avalanche of words, bouncing around in excitement, with a couple grabbing each other’s fur to keep from falling over. I couldn’t make out a thing they were saying. But I had the beginning of an idea.
“Do you like dancing in a circle?” I asked.
They had no idea what I was talking about, and possibly no understanding of basic shapes yet. Three of them spun in place while the others waved their arms.
“First you stand in a circle, like this,” I said, sketching out the shape in midair. “Here. You stand here, then you there…” With some gentle nudging — they were so soft — I soon had them arranged in something like a circle. “Now hold hands with the person next to you.”
I was a little concerned that their paws weren’t suited to this, since they had long blunt claws already and didn’t look very dexterous, but they managed. With lots of giggling and hopping in place.
“Now everybody step to the side, in this direction.” I ushered them into a clockwise rotation, nice and slow (and giggling), with no risk of any little fluffy heads bonking onto the spaceship landing pad. It took them a second, then they got the rhythm without tripping over their own feet.
Then they unanimously spun faster, hopping and laughing with squeals and barks that were probably making more than one adult turn to stare. I don’t know; I kept my eyes on the littles. My arms were out and ready in case somebody stumbled and brought the whole circle crashing down.
But no one did. The half dozen youngsters wheeled and spun, bouncing with glee and showing no sign of stopping.
“That’s new,” rumbled a voice behind me. I tried not to flinch when I looked up at the mama bear. Beer. Whatever. She asked, “Is that an activity from your planet?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Pretty basic, and it seemed good for kids.”
The antlered head nodded. “Looks like valuable practice at coordination, as well as teamwork. There are a few adults I know who could benefit from that.”
Images flashed through my head of huge antlered bear aliens doing ring-around-the-rosie as a corporate teambuilding exercise. And professional athletes trying to improve their footwork. “Yeah, they probably could. And it’s a fun bit of community bonding time.”
Mama Bear nodded. “Okay children, the car is fixed,” she announced. “Time to go home.”
The cubs made the exact same disappointed noises as human kids. Even when their mother waded in and picked them up one by one to urge them towards the car, they didn’t want to stop playing. They grabbed hands in pairs and spun off that way, even faster than before. I did have to catch one fuzzy little teddy toddler, who just laughed about it and hopped around some more.
Peripheral vision told me the rest of the crew was helping move the packages into the hovercar’s storage space and mop up the last of the fuel. Overheard conversation told me that the good captain had tactfully gotten us a bonus payment for the mechanical assistance. I couldn’t tell if childcare was part of that, and I didn’t ask. I just focused on herding the excitable youngsters back to their car, where thankfully they all knew how to get into the safety harnesses without help.
Mama Bear closed the door. “Thank you for everything,” she said, directing that at me as well as Captain Sunlight. “I will recommend your services highly to anyone who asks. And we will probably need more deliveries soon, once we get the new house set up, so perhaps we will see you again!”
Captain Sunlight nodded. “Perhaps so. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
I waved goodbye to the kids, who had found the button to open the window and were just as excitable as ever. “See you later! Maybe next time I can teach you the Hokey Pokey. That’s big on my planet.”
~~~
These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.
Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.
The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).
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whmp · 7 months
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hey, it's me! i'm still alive, somehow, though just barely. this semester has been pretty tough so far and will probably remain that way until spring. despite this, i managed to add some fun new features. : ) ALSO i promise 100000% that if you sent me an ask i WILL answer it. i will. anyway, look at all those cool things! -> a system for cuts, bruises, tattoos, wounds and other decorations your whumpee's skin is an empty canvas. whether you fill it with scars and wounds or cutesy band aids is up to you!
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the way this is set up is kind of like a bunch of stickers. so for example, if you decide to hurt the lil' guy with something sharp, he'll get a "stab wound" sticker in the spot you decided to target. over time, that sticker will change over to a "stab scar" one. it's a very flexible way to do things, but it still needs some work and a couple big changes, since it's very unfriendly to low-end computers. in terms of visuals though, it should look exactly the same as the decal-based "decorations" for your whumpee that you see above!
- a better way of getting that dude on camera the camera system is now a lot more immersive and will fit the story. the awkward developer cam that could clip into walls is no more.
you can drag around the view and zoom in and out by scrolling. as you progress, you'll get access to even more ways to invade your whumpee's privacy. : )
-> new ways to get horny in the last devlog post (around 1000 years ago) i said that you won't see any "horny accessories" in the upcoming updates. that was a complete lie, sorry! here's a preview of some cool new horns you can give to your whumpee.
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the neat part is that the horns are customizable - other than just choosing the shape, you can modify their size and color gradient. -> other stuff + story i've made plenty of changes and additions to the back end. most of it is not flashy or super significant - most of the time and energy i could dedicate to the project went right into fueling the violent, bloody conflict between me and custom shader code. i've also made some updates to how time is simulated and fixed a bunch of bugs. there is now a sound system too! i'll look for some copyright-free sfx and music before the next update. oh, and there's some lore too!
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i've been experimenting with different ways of delivering the main storyline. heavily stylized cutscene-like sequences were very fun to do! not sure if i'll stick with this style though. either way, i have the general outline of something that resembles a plot. >: ) that's it for now! again, sorry for the irregular update schedule. i've been following the "no progress for a long time, then one night you have all the energy and inspiration in the world and you zone the fuck out for an unhealthy amount of time just working on your thing then until realize that you're going to be asleep within the next 40 seconds" development strategy - hopefully, my brain will kindly allow me to switch to a more comfortable workflow. :' ) taglist below: (let me know if you want to be added OR LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT TO ADD YOU IM SO SORRY) @whumpinthepot @andithewhumper @pigeonwhumps @monarchthefirst @scp-1296 @whumpedydump @screenys-whump-corner @whumpshaped @bloodsweatandpotato @burning-and-remembering @thealmightyconeoftruth @whimpity-whumpity @catnykit @vietbluecoeur @rainythealias @cardboardarsonist @snakebites-and-ink @lthrboy @woo-lu-woo @wingsofadragonsstuff @wecoffphm @bayvel @pics-and-fanfics @dokidokisadness @generic-whumperz @lambetjenasus @aarika-merrill @hayaneakabane @moons-cozy-corner @brittaunfiltered09 @rule-masochism @reverie1234 @oddsconvert @wh-wh-whumpified @currentlyinthesprial @cupcakes-and-pain @heavenlyden @whumpsday @likeadeadbattery @stay-on-topic1 @cyborg0109 @kawhump @astrowhump
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gingerjolover · 2 months
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been in my naomi vibes as of late, would luv to see a smut of naomi for v-day 🎀 possibly involving a lingerie fashion show as you’ve discussed on your page before. luv ur writing 🫶
oh haiiii
so i had this as a whole fic and it.. got deleted
so i shall summarize
RPF smut under da cut, minors gtfo<3 (im so srs)
okay so a long time ago i mentioned that (canonically) naomi calls soft!gf "babydoll" bc of their obsession with buying soft!gf lingerie
and we shall divulge in this however it should be known that naomi did not start buying you lingerie right out the gate okay?
it all started when you and naomi started dating, you didn't uhaul honestly, i feel like naomi is really into their space and environment and it takes a lot of effort for nomi to either move or allow big changes in their space
it starts because naomi bought you a bunch of pajama sets for their apartment
and this just became a thing like naomi would see a cute set online or even on the road and just get it and mail it home for you or whatever
and eventually after a little bit you find out naomi's love for you in lingerie (im thinking it was a lace top and jeans situation that naomi just could not keep it in their pants) and thats when the babydoll thing starts
not the naomi starts off conservatively, but it's really the act of taking it off of you that excites them
but eventually they realize that you find some confidence when they worship you in it so they start to put more effort into what the color is, the type of material, the fit of the set, how easy is it to put on and take off, can the top be worn with jeans in public, and so on and so forth
and this isn't a weekly or even monthly thing, it really is only for special occasions or when naomi wants to spice things up
it's pretty much expected on either of your birthdays, valentines day, and your anniversary to find a big black box with a ribbon tied around it on your bed waiting for you
and maybe because muna has been so busy, naomi hasn't bought any in a while so there's like three or four boxes the night before valentines day
and naomi has the cockiest shit-eating grin on their face, probably in a pair of loose cargos or joggers, a grey crewneck on as they lounge on the bed, hands behind their head
"go on babydoll, show me what ya got," comes out of their mouth, and if you didn't love them sm you'd roll your eyes
and naomi carefully curated the lingerie for valentines this year, like there's a style you really like, a color that compliments your skin, one that is unique and you haven't tried before, and maybe a risky one that naomi didn't know if you'd be interested in
"need help?" naomi would call, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, manspreading with their hands clasped
"no, give me a sec," you'd reply, slipping on the first one
and one by one you'd come out of the bathroom, naomi letting out a low whistle or pretending to faint or fanning themselves, trying to hype you up
they always hold a hand above you, spinning you gently before kissing your hand, rough hands running up and down your sides
naomi is rubbing your hips, groaning softly, "look at you baby doll, goddamn," before pulling you between their legs kissing you softly
naomi ushers you back to the bathroom with a sweet tap on your ass, pushing you softly
but the last one, it's probably a babydoll style but has a bunch of cut outs or is like completely see through
and it's less about the lingerie like i said before, there is something so intimate about this experience for the two of you, both getting some type of boost from it
but this one is like... intensely horny, like you gasp pulling it out of the box bc its almost unholy
and it's probably in a soft pink or dark red or white, one that would compliment your skin tone well (but there's not a ton of fabric to begin with like its mostly frills and sheer)
and you walk out of the bathroom, a tiny bit insecure because it's just SO different than the usual ones
and naomi's reaction is new, its a full jaw drop, absolute shock to the system as naomi literally stutters
there's no witty comment, no annoying whistle or anything, they just stare at you jaw slack
"oh- no, no, don't cover up, get your cute ass over here... holy shit," naomi says, still shocked but noticing your nervousness. and you walk over gently, and even for the room thats literally vibrating in sexual tension and insanely horny energy, naomi just brushes some hair out of your face and cups your cheek, "you look so pretty babydoll," and it's so tender and affectionate you could sob
and honestly, kinda a blur but it takes naomi approximately .5 seconds to rip it off of you before they are buried between your legs
like never ate a meal before/drinking from the fountain of youth shit naomi is literally devouring you
and by the second orgasm (from their tongue alone) naomi's sweating bro, ripping off their crewneck and then laying on the bed, pulling down their pants just enough bc of fucking course they were packing all day in preparation
and look if naomi is using a strap, you're bouncing okay? they call you bunny for a reason
but it's almost frenzied, like you both know what you need to do
small glances and shy smiles are exchanged, both speaking with your eyes to make sure that everything is still good between you both and everything is consensual and chill and feeling good
one of naomi's hands grips your hip as they help guide you down onto the strap, the other rubbing your ass softly
"good job bunny, that's my girl," they whisper, a proud cocky smirk on their face as yours contorts
and naomi is so calm the whole time, letting you move around how you need to so you can get off
right as your about to cum again, naomi has a hand in your hair, bringing your face to theirs
"good job bunny, what do you have to say? hm?" naomi asks, breathy and whispery as your legs shake
"thank you for- the clothes," you mumble, your nose rubbing against theirs sweetly, but your panting as their fingers tug a little harder at the root of your hair
"good job bunny, let go," naomi whispers, letting you release, your face in their neck as they rub your back gently
also naomi is the king of aftercare i said it once i'll say it again
and yes they tore that last set to pieces! what did you expect! you're hot!
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dearest-painter · 10 months
Text
No she’s MY daughter PT.2
Summary: Y/N Drew is the adopted daughter of Jessica drew as a 6 soccer year old girl. What she doesn’t know is that she looks a bit to familiar to her mom’s boss, in his eyes she’s the reincarnation of his dead daughter. When Y/N and her friends have to help an anomaly stay alive it reveals that more people want her as family.
TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,abusive behavior,abusive relationship,Reader is basically Gabriella O’Hara aka Miguel’s dead daughter but you can change your looks just some things will look like Gabriella,Reader is a soccer player which is based off of my experience,Reader is 6 years old so no romance bc duh,very out of character characters,this is a series,Her mama brought her to a chase,Reader is BFFS with Pavitr,people might be out of character,tell me if I need to add more
PT.1 PT.3
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You’ve been waiting for your mama for so long that coloring became so boring! “Miss Lyla, if your an AI can you tell me where my mama is please?” “I can try kid!” You smiled as she began looking for your mama, you’ve seen Miguel every so often asking if your hungry or thirsty..he’s sorta scary in your eyes as the dark room doesn’t help with his skull spider logo. He’s the same height as your dad so that made you less scared of him…sorta. “Okay kid, your mom is coming with some other people”
You nodded your head then started move your ankles in a circle motion at different times as your shoes were getting annoying so you then decided to just untie them to loosen them up. “Much better!..what to do is the question…” you made a ‘tch’ sound multiple times as you thought, steal from Miguel since in Hobie’s words ‘Big man don’t need it, he already got to much power’ or something like that, take a nap, or fix the little gizmo in your pocket…fixing the gizmo it is! You took the gizmo out and your double sided screwdriver (basically it can come out of the holder and it has a different screwdriver head on the other side). The gizmo is just a little robot fella named Gizmo.
Lyla watched as she secretly recorded it as she liked to see you happy. “There’s my girl!” “Mama!” You stopped and ran to hug your mama’s legs which you did! You then hugged Hobie which he hugged back then Gwen but you stopped at the new guy. “What’s your name? I like your outfit!” “Thanks! I’m Miles Morales!” You smiled and held your hand out to be nice. “Y/N Drew!” Miles shook your hand then looked at your mother then at you as he didn’t know what to say next. You looked around to see Pavitr as you missed your best friend.
“Where’s Pavy?” “Pavitr is busy but don’t worry, you two will see each other soon” “Yay!” You jumped a bit not paying attention to the conversation that’s currently happening between Miles and Miguel. “Don’t blame him! He had a bad teacher!” “Peter!” “Hey!” “You have a baby!” “I have a baby!” You smiled as you held Mayday as you two giggled, she then wanted to go to the wall so you walked to the wall and she started crawling on it. Miguel was say something in Spanish but you didn’t understand as you giggled seeing Mayday run or crawl away from her dad.
Jessica smiled as she knew you’ll be a great big sister with the way you take care of Mayday, your baby sibling will be so glad to have you as a big sister. Her and her husband always loved the way you ramble about how your going to protect and annoy your baby sibling as it seemed so adorable. Miguel looked over a bit to see you and Mayday playing together and laughing in joy.
He smiled a bit as it was a cute sight to see his daughter playing with a toddler. He knew Lyla was recording with the way she was squealing silently in joy so that no one payed attention to her. He wish he could take you home right now so you’ll be safe and far away from all these annoying assholes as you don’t need to be around all of these people as they’ll rot your brain.
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f1crecs · 2 months
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Fic Rec List - Sex Worker AUs
if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and we will remove it immediately, no questions asked. we have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop us a message🤍
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don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments!
Lando/Oscar
nsfw: dancing on quicksand by @tearstrung | E | 3.3k Lando is outrageous, and Oscar struggles to understand what's a joke and what isn't - until he sees a link on Twitter. This fic is red hot, very funny, and perfectly characterised! Oscar's special brand of bamboozlement is especially wonderful here, as he comes to terms with Lando's job on the side. The ending is like a beautiful punch to the gut. Love it!
'Though, the guy’s skin is similar in color to Lando’s—olivey, the natural tan Lando wears year-round, even if he’s barely been in the sun with his shirt off. The same big hands, which don’t really match up with his small stature, rippled with lithe muscle; followed by a wide ribcage that slips down into a tiny, tapered waist. Nipples, shades darker and always hard from what Oscar can see from a long scroll. At the tips of the guy’s fingers, Oscar notices leftover chew marks, the skin pulled back, nails bitten short into nubs.'
Carlos/Lando
nsfw: when the time comes by @venerat | E | 7.6k Lando asks his friend Carlos, an escort, to arrange an appointment with another male escort for him. Lando has never been with a man and wants to have the experience. When Pierre falls ill and has to cancel, Carlos decides to go in his stead. Only one problem, though - Carlos is in love with Lando. Will he be able to keep his emotions in check? This situation could have been awkward but Lando is nothing but sweet and kind with Carlos. The encounter results in a lot of revelations for them both, and although they seem to start the next phase of their relationship a bit backwards, they clearly have a future together.
Time doesn’t seem to be very real. Carlos thinks. He thought it would be different than this, that’s all. Different from the way it’s—happening. Because the way it’s happening feels like sex. Real sex. It doesn’t feel like work. It doesn’t feel like a transaction. It feels like—trite; cliche, of course, but—it feels like passion.
Charles/Pierre
nsfw: pièce de résistance by @capsize (copenhagenborn) | E | 14.5k Pierre, a sex worker, is approached one night by the assistant of someone calling himself Marc. Marc, it turns out, is really Prince Charles of Monaco and is looking for an arrangement. This is quite low-angst for a royalty AU (don't get me wrong, I love my angst) but this fic just has them slot together so easily. Pierre is rather happy as a sex worker, which is actually a nice change when it comes to sex work fic. The relationship side of things is slow burn and even the inevitable miscommunication part of the story is done so well I enjoyed it.
'Pierre does spend the night. He sends Charles a picture of his gateau marcel and soaks in the tub as he finishes the bottle of wine they were supposed to share. The house is predictably a mess when he gets home: George is crying on the couch with his eyes glued to the television, a small Union Jack pulled from somewhere and now proudly displayed in front of him. Alex is sitting by his feet, badly hiding his laughter as he scrolls through what Pierre can only imagine being memes. Lando is passed out in the corner, a bottle of vodka close to his hand, while Oscar stares at him with an oddly closed-off look in his eyes. Pierre isn’t quite up to date on the current geopolitical relationship between Australia and the rest of the commonwealth. Pierre sits down next to Max at the dining table, sips his water and goes, “What does it mean if someone has to be summoned after the death of dear old Lizzy?”'
nsfw: cause baby, I'd be satisfied forever by @wolfiemcwolferson | E | 88.5k Pierre, retired from racing after a career-ending injury, is closer to 40 than 30 now and has reinvented himself as a designer. He's also venturing out of the closet. He is put in touch with Charles, who gets by as a sugar baby, and decides this is a perfect way to get some experience dating another man. Pierre finds himself developing feelings for Charles. I'm at a point now with @wolfiemcwolferson fic where I just gesture wildly at whatever they've written and make vague noises but in the interests of trying to sound like the sane person I pretend to be, this fic is a perfect distillation of the Pierre/Charles relationship. What if they didn't meet until later in life? What if Charles never went beyond karting? What if the age gap was larger? All of these, and yet, it's still them. There is a "soulmates in ever universe" theme in the Piarles fandom and this story absolutely embodies it.
'He’s beautiful and he smells like cologne and something fresh and he’s still not let go of Pierre’s hand - the cool leather underneath Pierre’s hand seems so…foreign. So flipped. Pierre considers all the time he touched other people’s hands while wearing leather gloves. “I hope I am not late,” Charles smiles at him still. “I missed my train and I -” “Charles,” Pierre says, realizing that Charles seems a bit nervous - a bit ruffled. “I only just arrived. “Come and let’s go inside. We can get warm.” His smile makes his perfect face less so - a mere mortal instead of the god he is and Pierre gets it immediately.'
Charles/Sebastian
nsfw: Be Snoozing That Lust In The Morning by @sebchalex & @meova101 | E | 14.5k When Formula 1 decides to clean up their sponsors, teams are left scrambling to find money. Ferrari finds an unconventional way to get more budget – Charles starts an OnlyFans. The initial premise of Charles having to get an OnlyFans to help Ferrari is just unhinged enough that it could be real – but this fic has a lot more to offer than just comedy. The way it follows Charles personal growth from not believing he could actually make money of OF, being embarrassed when Seb subscribes, to them working together to produce record breaking content and falling for eachother in between – its like a modern day fairytale, if Cinderella had to sell nudes to help the evil stepmom with money.
"This was the only way," Charles says. "I know this could tarnish the Ferrari legacy and everything, but I want to help my team. I will do anything to make them stay on top." Once he finishes his sentence, he looks straight at Sebastian. It's already disgraceful enough that he had to do this in the first place, but this type of rejection coming from Sebastian is making him feel worse. Finally, Sebastian raises his hands in a yielding gesture. "Fine," he says, sending a breath of relief through Charles. "I still have a problem with it." "Seb, I know. I wish there was another way as well, but—" "It's not about that," Sebastian says, looking even more pissed. "Have you realised that your pictures are terrible?" Well. Charles certainly hadn’t expected that. "What?" "Charles, if you are charging that much in the first place, then you should at least put in a little bit more effort," Sebastian explains, extending his hands out. "Your lighting was horrible, and it was blurry. Why did no one offer help?"
nsfw: With you I'm in real danger by @jean----ralphio | E | 55.5k Charles, a well-known porn actor, shelters from a mob of fans by hiding in a rare books shop. The bookseller recognises him but is too considerate to say anything about it. Charles notices and they strike up a friendship, and more. Charles and Seb are from such very different worlds. Charles is accustomed to sometimes being judged for his line of work but Seb treats him with utmost respect at all times, which should be a low bar but isn't. Things get a bit rocky for them in true romance story fashion, but all is well by the end.
Sebastian feels himself go bright red, as Charles’ mischievous smile turns gleeful. “I can tell the instant I meet someone whether they know who I am or not,” he explains. “So I knew right away that you know of me.” “Ah. Sorry.” Sebastian feels foolish, guilt settling over him for not having been honest about it from the beginning.
Pierre/Yuki
nsfw: your mouth makes me reconsider where my heart lies by @yukierres | E | 10.4k Pierre, still an F1 driver, discovers a streamer who plays video games while using sex toys and is immediately fascinated (and hugely turned on). He lavishes gifts and money on the man on his screen, and finds himself falling in love with someone he hasn't even met. The guys are so well characterised. Yuki is unashamed, he loves what he does, is brilliant at it and gets well paid for it too. You can see why Pierre couldn't resist. Pierre is confused and ashamed as hell to begin with (that darned Catholic guilt again) but can't stay away. The author grows the relationship to a point where it seems inevitable that Yuki will one day feel comfortable enough meeting Pierre in real life.
"That was -" Pierre says around breaths, a laugh in his voice, disbelief in what has just happened. Yuki himself has flopped back on the bed, laptop now beside him as he lies against the pillows. His eyes are wet and pink looking, a content sheen in them. "That was something else." A pleased cat-like expression forms on his mouth. "You enjoyed that Pierre?" He says with a blissed-out face, attempting to bat his eyes temptingly at the camera before yawning tiredly, the whole face scrunching up. It is more cute than seductive in the end, but it doesn’t matter because Pierre is head over heels either way.
Daniel/Max
nsfw: chemical highs and clear blue skies by @yekoc | E | 43.5k Daniel is a porn actor, which is where he meets newbie Max. Max, along with his cats, crash on Daniel’s couch whilst they continue to shoot various scenes together. They get to know each other and get to miscommunicate on the way to comfort. The pacing of the plot was really pleasant to read, as was the dialogue. Max is flippant but also careful and cautious at the same time. Daniel is self assured and kind and perhaps a little too trusting. Both of them keep their cards close and all of it makes for a very gratifying read.
'Max laughs, just a little bit, something that in someone else you might call a giggle. Daniel hasn’t seen him laugh before. He’s seen him come—in person, and then over and over again on video that one night, which he should probably forget about really quickly. Max laughing is oddly similar; it breaks something hard about him all to pieces.'
nsfw: Fly Fast (With Broken Wings) by @mysticalbreadcollective | E | 44.2k (ongoing) Max is an escort who turned to sex work due to lack of options. Daniel is an F1 driver, and Max's first ever customer. Daniel quickly becomes obsessed with Max - but the Max that Daniel first knows is a construct - the real Max guards his feelings out of necessity and can't afford to go all in with Daniel. Daniel doesn't understand the precariousness of Max's situation, or why Max would choose to keep working and earning his own money - keeping his independence - rather than agree to become Daniel's kept man. This fic digs deeply into the power imbalance and dubious consent issues of sex work, the necessary artifice of it and the need for emotional armour and distance on the part of the worker. Daniel, sadly, proves Max right with some of his behaviour - he can be selfish and spoiled, and sometimes outright cruel. There is love on both sides, but this relationship is a minefield they each misstep in more than once.
'“You think you are saving me, but it will be someone else. And maybe they will not be so nice.” Emilian says, and oh fuck, his voice is cracking a little at the end and Daniel can’t stand it. Because Daniel knows. He knows the types of clients, can imagine them, the ones that would pay extortionate amounts of money for Emilian. He feels sick hearing Emilian’s voice shake a little, wonders how nervous Emilian has been for this. What he was expecting, who he was expecting. When the agency told him that he was meeting someone who’d pay extra for him. If Emilian had built it all up in his head what he’d be asked to do. And then to say he’d been hopeful that it had been Daniel. Shit.'
Daniel/Lando
nsfw: asunder, asunder by @ladyeggplant | E | 53.3k Lando is very socially awkward, highly intelligent and cashed up. He decides the best way to lose his virginity is to hire an escort. The progression of the relationship here from transactional to something more is not smooth. Lando really doesn’t have much of an understanding about how a relationship should work and makes a few big missteps, especially later in the story as the emotional stakes get higher. Daniel is professional and gentle as he gradually figures out exactly what Lando needs. Lando is physically inexperienced and emotionally awkward and nothing about it is easy.
Silence settles over steeping tea and half-eaten fruit, and he wishes he’d left the music on, because at least it would make this awkwardness bearable. He’s had super wealthy clients before, but none of them this young, and none of them this achingly insecure where it was practically bleeding out of them. Everyone who has ever booked him as wanted him there, obviously—it feels like Lando would rather eat glass than sit in the same room as him. Daniel clears his throat. “So, first time, huh?” Lando chokes mid sip.
Carlos/Charles
In for a penny, in for a pound by @f1-stuff | M | 7k (ongoing) Charles, smarting after being unceremoniously dumped by his girlfriend, hires an escort to take as his plus one to Arthur's wedding. A dashingly handsome man turns up to the rendezvous, and they figure out Charles checked the wrong box when he was making the appointment. He's spent the money, Carlos is easy company, so he decides to roll with it. This fic is amusing and sweet. Carlos is wonderful at his job - perceptive and empathetic and kind, and is probably way ahead in understanding of Charles's sexuality than Charles is himself.
“Charles...listen,” he says, shifting slightly in his chair. He looks self-assured and confident with one leg crossed over the other, hands loosely clasped over his knee. Charles is annoyed and jealous of him all at once. “I probably shouldn’t say this, considering why you hired me. But you are trying to prove to your ex that you aren’t sad and lonely by hiring someone to pretend to be in love with you...” The man raises his brows at him. “You do see the irony, no?” Charles scoffs, shaking his head down at his lap. But he can’t deny that this guy sort of, possibly, has a point. Great, even the escort he’s paying to not make him feel so pitiful is calling him out.
Mark/Seb
nsfw: pleaser by @alltimecharlo | E | 34.6k Seb is a student struggling to make rent, and Mark is a very successful lawyer. They enter a mutually beneficial agreement. This story is fantastic - the author characterises them both beautifully, and they are the perfect balance of sweet and hot and funny. I particularly loved Sebastian's first trip to Mark's house... A gorgeous story, with lots to love.
Mark’s sitting right there. Like, directly in front of the changing room in one of the extremely comfy-looking armchairs, his eyes latching directly onto his form once it’s revealed and lingering there so heavily that Sebastian almost feels the need to hide his entirely clothed body. The older’s green eyes flick up and down his lithe frame so intensely that Seb can feel his stomach doing flips and a burning heat instilling under his skin. It only worsens when he watches Mark’s tongue dart outwards to wet at his lips.
In order to keep this list organised we have chosen to categorise it as 'Sex Worker AUs'– note that we understand that some tropes here are not always sexual in nature nor are they always categorised as sex work. We respect any and all sex workers and non sex workers alike!
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