#I CAN’T BELIEVE I DIDN’T THINK OF THIS BEFORE

[joemama-2]

it’s late at night. he’s already situated on the bed, seeing you come into the room with unkempt hair, you shirt has splotches of dried milk and your movements are slow. tired.

why wouldn’t you be?

an energetic three year old who’s just like his father is hard to maintain. though you wouldn’t trade it for the world. “come here, baby.” he pats his lap, grinning softly.

you look over from where you’re taking off your jewelry for the day, in attempt to get ready for your nightly shower. “hm? for what?”

his eyes follow your every movement, patting his lap once more. “you know exactly why. cmon, daddy needs some stress relief.”

the laugh you let out causes his face to soften, admiring you in a way that’s reserved solely for his wife, for the mother of his son. “i thought we agreed you couldn’t call yourself that anymore.”

he adjusts himself when he sees you come over, crawling on the bed to situate yourself in a straddling position over his hips. his hands fall into place on the curve of your waist, thumbs rubbing small circles on the small patch of skin that shows when your shirt lifts up. “you did. i didn’t.”

“it’s cringey.”

“so?”

you huff, eyes rolling. he dips his head forward into the crook of your neck, planting a trail of warm kisses. “satoru, are you sure?”

“are you sure?” he asks, voice muffled by your skin. “i just want to pamper my wife after a long day, can’t i do that?”

“i feel hideous right now.”

he tips his head back, bright eyes staring back at you with an intensity you’ve come to associate with. the kind of intensity that lets you know whatever he says—he means it. “hideous? what did i say before, huh? i said don’t even think about saying stupid stuff like that again. and look at you now.”

your lips downturn. “don’t say that just to make me feel better.”

“i’m not,” he places a firm kiss to your lips. “you look beautiful every day, every second of the day. but you look especially gorgeous right now.”

you narrow your eyes at him, skeptical. “why right now?”

satoru’s lips quirk into a sly grin, his thumbs still tracing those comforting circles on your waist. "because right now, I see my whole world in front of me. the woman who gave me everything I could ever want—a family, a home, a reason to come back every single day.”

the weight of his words presses against the exhaustion hanging over you. it’s not just flattery. it’s raw and genuine, just like him, and it makes your chest ache in the best way. “you’re so cheesy, you know that?”

“and you’re so heavenly,” his grin widens, leaning in closer until your noses almost touch. “but you love my cheesiness, don’t you? admit it.”

your lips twitch, a small smile breaking through despite your best efforts to keep a straight face. “maybe I do.”

“there it is,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your lips, softer this time, as if he’s handling something fragile. “that smile’s all I need to get through anything.”

the words wrap around your tired soul like a warm blanket. and for a moment, the weight of the day fades, replaced by the solid, steady presence of him—your husband, your partner, the man who never fails to make you feel like the most important person in the world.

you sigh, resting your forehead against his. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Wrong.” his voice is firm, his hands steady as they pull you just a little closer, subtly rubbing you against his clothed cock. “I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”

and in that quiet, intimate moment, with the world outside fading into irrelevance, you believe him.

"now let me pamper you like I promised." he switches positions, hovering above you as you lay on your back. leaning down to raise the hem of your shirt, trailing sweet kisses and licks against your stomach—heading further south. your hips raise slightly as he discards your lounge pants, breath hitching in anticipation. hand running down through the streaks of his white hair, he smiles at the sight of your pussy hidden behind the grandma underwear you adorn.

hot breath tickling your core that leaves you almost jerking upwards for more. he kisses your clit through the loose fabric. “besides, mommy needs her fix too, doesn’t she?”

[snoopychris]

chatterbox

in which... nerd!matt gets drunk for the first time.

you so desperately wished you could have a drink right now. even just a single white claw. oh the downside of being the designated driver. the music around you is blasting louder than you anticipated, people keep bumping into you like you’re invisible, and you feel like your friends are all having more fun than you.  all negatives of being sober. oh well. at least you still had matt… well he was somewhere around here.

you’re mid conversation with somebody when nate grabs onto your shoulder, pulling you from every other thought. his eyes are full of fear and he’s shaking as if he’s scared of you. you swallow in fear, worried about his next words. “nathan…” you whisper, only being met with mumbles. you finally get him to speak up, groaning when he reveals his big secret. 

“i only did two shots with him i didn’t know he’d get like this! how was i supposed to know?” he questions, leading you towards matt in the kitchen. luckily, he’s not alone. chris is gripping onto his wrists making sure he’s able to stay upright. you giggle slightly at the sight, making your way over to your intoxicated boyfriend. his glasses are sitting in his pocket, a sight that’s rare to see. his eyes are wide and his face is red. he is completely out of it. 

“oh my god, sweetie hi.” he mumbles, gripping onto your hand and tugging you close. his breath doesn’t smell too much like alcohol, but you know the two shots he had must be more than he’s used to. you grab onto his shoulders in place of chris, groaning when he and nate sneak away back to the party. your boyfriend, your responsibility.

“hey nerd. y’feeling okay? what’d you have?” you whisper, helping him keep his standing position. matt shrugs as he looks around the counter, picking up a bottle of everclear and handing it to you. your face churns in disgust. there’s no way he willingly drank this stuff. you chuckle as you drag him away from the kitchen, making your way to your car. one of the only perks is that you can make an irish goodbye whenever. the parties at nate’s house anyway. chris can spend the night if he needs to. 

matt stumbles his way out with you, taking a seat in the passengers side. he lays his head backwards on the headrest, squeezing his eyes shut. he pouts his lip like a toddler being pulled out of a toy store. “where are we goin” he pouts, his lip still out. you shrug as you begin driving, making sure to roll the window down to help him sober up. 

“i dunno… can’t believe you’re drunk off two shots of everclear… well like i can but. jesus.” you smile, gripping onto his hand. he squeezes back gently, but he thinks he’s being really aggressive. he mumbles out an apology, earning a head shake from you. the only place you can manage to drive is the beach. his beach. the same beach he would always go when he felt alone. the same beach you went to before you were dating. his face brightens at the sight and he manages to make his way out of the car. 

it’s snowing out- just barely though. just enough for the snow to be visible to the naked eye but not enough to stick to the floor. you follow close after him, wrapping your leather jacket around your torso. he runs towards the sand, sitting down on a random spot. he winces when it’s colder than he expects, the temperature only enhanced by his drunken state. you stand in front of him, dropping to your knees. he almost gets excited but he knows you wouldn’t. instead, he just cups your face with one of his palms. 

“you’re so beautiful… hey do you ever think about how maybe my favorite pokémon is somebody’s least favorite? or how some pokémon don’t have like annnyyyy merchandise made for them because they’re just not profitable. it makes me so sad for those guys. like not everybody can be pikachu you know? and sweetie oh my god don’t even get me started on the merch that nintendo makes because… it’s crazy!” he begins to mumble on when it all sort of clicks for you. matthew sturniolo is a talkative drunk. not a quiet one like chris. not an impulsive one like nick. not a cuddly one like you. talkative. you nod at his words, almost as if you’re asking for more. against all odds, matt looks straight into your eyes and smiles. 

“well cause like… they market off everything cute right? they’re targeting cutie patooties like you with all the animal crossing stuff.” he states, touching your nose with his fingertip when he speaks. you scrunch your face at the feeling, snowflakes gathering on the top of your head. “you are so cute. like i can’t wait for you to move out to california with me.” he mumbles. your face drops slightly at his words but you shrug it off. it’s the alcohol talking. you purse your lips, waiting for more drunk babbles from your boyfriend. “oh my god right so the nintendo marketing scheme-”

a/n: welcome back, nerd!matt. im so scared of myself with this au sometimes chat. like i get to my computer and im like oooo todays the day and then i cant bring myself to do it.

tags: @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @yuppocarzy @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @ayesha-eroticaa @bluessturniolo @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @emely9274 @princessesgarden @marrykisskilled @cykss @oopsiedaisydeer @13hoax @jetaimevous @allylovescody @urfavvt4ylor

[sinofwriting]

Faking It - Max Verstappen

Words: 850 Summary: Max finds out his girlfriend faked an orgasm. Note(s): NSFW, Talks of Sex, Mention of Semi-Public Sex. Part of a kind series where drivers find out reader faked an orgasm.

Max pauses just before the entryway to the living room. “Have you ever y’know?” His brows furrow at the vague question from his girlfriend’s best friend.

“Have I ever what?”

“Faked it. Have you ever faked an orgasm?”

She scoffs, “Before Max, yes.”

His cheeks turn a bit pink at the conversation he was overhearing, but he also stands a bit taller.

He knew that their sex life was good, that she was getting orgasms, they had of course talked about it, but it was different hearing her talk to someone else about it with no idea he was there.

His brows furrowed in confusion when she speaks again, “well, I don’t really know if it counts as faking it.”

“What?”

“I mean, there’s been a few times when we’ve had sex where I didn’t orgasm.”

His mind starts screaming at him, because what? He always made sure she came, usually before he did.

“Not because it wasn’t good or because I didn’t want to. I just couldn’t.” He can practically see the shrug she gives. “The sex was still good though.”

“Y/N!” Her friend screeches and it breaks up a little through the phone.

The words replay in his head as he goes back to their bedroom, lying down on the bed. He tries to think of when she would have faked it but nothing comes to mind. He’s so wrapped up in his head he doesn’t hear her call his name or get onto the bed until she’s laying down on top of him, his arms instinctively wrapping themselves around her.

“What you thinking about?” She asks, pressing kisses to his jaw.

It normally relaxes the feeling of her lips pressed against his skin but not quite where he wants them, a lovely prelude to before she kisses him, but he can’t get past what he heard and he’s never been practically shy.

“When did you fake it? Having an orgasm with me?”

Her fingers pause where they had begun to lift his shirt to slide under. “Max, it’s not a big deal.”

His frown deepens and he’s pushing her upwards so they can look at each other. “Yes, it is. I always thought that I made you orgasm, usually first. And now I’ve found that isn’t true.”

She shakes her head. “You do! I promise you do.”

He doesn’t say anything and she sighs.

“It’s only happened twice.”

He doesn’t know if he’s relieved that it only happened twice or pissed that he failed twice. It should have never happened but twice was far too much.

“The first time was after the FIA gala last year.”

His eyebrows furrow, “But you talk about that night a lot.”

“It was a good night. I felt good, amazing. I loved everything we did, I just wasn’t able to orgasm. I didn’t feel unsatisfied or anything. Especially not with my wake-up call.”

He smirks at the reminder of the next morning. He had woken up just as the sun was rising and had ducked under the covers and ate her out until she was begging for him to stop. His jaw and tongue had ached for hours after, but it was worth it for the taste of her stayed just as long.

“The second time was in China. I just couldn’t stop thinking about what if someone walked in.”

“So, I didn’t fuck you good enough.”

She slaps his chest lightly, sending him a disbelieving look. “I was limping a little after. And you're lucky I was wearing those heels and everyone believed me when I said I twisted my ankle.”

“I’m sorry.” Max apologizes again, picking up her hand and kissing it. He still felt a little bad that their first foray into semi-public sex had been so rough. “Why didn’t you tell me though? That I didn’t make you come?”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal to me.” She tells him. “I love having sex with you, it always feels good regardless of me orgasming or not. And in those two instances I was just happy to be that close to you.”

He stares at her, looking deep into her eyes. He still feels like he’s failed but the way she’s looking at him, all gentle wide eyes filled with truth. “I’ll let it go.”

She snorts and he covers her mouth with his hand.

“But only if you tell me next time. Just so I can immediately make it up to you.” He says, removing his hand as he says the last word.

“Okay, I’ll tell you next time.”

“Thank you.” He murmurs, pressing their lips together.

She hums into the kiss, her one hand slipping out of his and returning to the hem of shirt, drawing it up so she can slip her hands underneath and his stomach flexes at the feeling of her fingertips and he’s rolling them over. Easily putting himself in between her legs.

“Feel like making a mess for me?”

She lets out a happy little sigh, teeth lightly sinking into her bottom lip as she nods. “Please?”

“Of course.”

[immortalmolloy]

Daniel was shocked and he froze for a moment. He could feel the way the boat rocked gently and hear the soft sound of waves lapping at the ship’s hull outside. The room was lit very dimly by a single lamp in the corner.

It was surprising to hear Mina say that he was a light in her life. Daniel had always seen himself as more of a black hole. Hearing Mina say how much he meant to her and how special she thought he was, it meant so much to Daniel. It made him want to be everything she needed. And it made him think maybe he didn’t always need to run to Armand when he was desperate to hear kind words and praises. Mina would assure him. He wanted to do the same for her.

He was usually good with words but this was a complicated subject that hurt him too. Daniel felt shame for things he had done too. He had been so sure back then that he knew who the monsters were. Now he doubted that. Violent memories haunted him in his sleep more often than he’d like to admit.

He was so grateful for Mina. He didn’t know how she was exactly before they had met, only knew what she had said and what he saw in her mind. He understood choices she had made. He couldn’t understand completely but he didn’t blame her for things she had done. She made hard choices. She was strong and brave. She survived and endured.

Daniel had changed a lot too since he met her. He owed her everything. She saved him again and again. He could never repay her for how she rescued him from the grave he was determined to crawl in. She had given him purpose and shown him true love that he had been searching for. She helped him to grow into the person he was meant to be.

“I can’t pretend to know it all,” Daniel said finally. “I do understand how it is to feel like the worst kind of monster, to have your past choices weighing on you suffocating you slowly, to be haunted by painful memories in your sleep. I see their faces. The monsters. The ones we hunted. Some of them deserved it-at least, I think they did. But others... I used to believe I was the hero in the story. I thought I knew who the monsters were. And now, I don't know anything. I’m always going to Lestat for reassurance. Lestat tells me all of the terrible things he’s done and that’s the only way I stop hating myself.”

Daniel sighed. “We can’t forget these things we’ve done. You don’t have to carry it alone, though. We have each other always and forever. I may not have known you so long ago but I do know you now. I know your heart and mind and soul. We were meant to find each other. You are my soulmate for all eternity. You're one of the bravest, strongest people l've ever known. You made hard choices because you thought it was the right thing to do and maybe you didn't always get it right. Maybe neither of us did. But you still deserve the world, Mina. You are amazing and you deserve love and to heal from this stuff. I’m here for you. I’ll help you.”

He kissed her forehead and held her close. "I don't know where I'd be without you. I don't even know who I'd be. You gave me purpose, Mina. A reason to fight, even when I wanted to give up. You’ve shown me love. I could never thank you enough for how you rescued me and saved me. If I’m a light in your life then you’re the whole damn sun in mine.”

“So, you want to interview vampires, so you?”

[boybandbaby]

Alienated (Aaron Hotchner x Pregnant!Non-BAU!Reader)

word count: 1215

warnings: fem!reader, pregnant!reader, jealous!aaron, fluff, angst? not really

note: just a silly 🤪 little idea that popped into my head - also i’ve been in the writing mood so plz send requests (please see pinned masterlist for who I write for)

Aaron had been gone for two weeks. TWO WHOLE WEEKS. 14 days. 336 hours and counting.

You had been gifted a body pillow by JJ in your first trimester. She swore by it. You didn’t need it much as Aaron was home more often now that you were pregnant.

Aaron promised to not go on any long trips when he found out you were pregnant but the last case was urgent and needed all hands on deck.

It’s Aaron’s first night back and as he adjusted his pajamas pants from under his feet, kicking his feet through the ends, he watched you fluff your pillow.

“You’re gonna sleep with that thing? It’s bigger than Jack.”

“Yeah, it’s so comfy.” You slap the sides and slam your head onto it, throwing a leg over it and sighing once comfortable.

Early on in your pregnancy, you could go without the pillow as he was around more often. But this time around you couldn’t sleep without it.

That first night back you hugged the pillow in between you on the bed. The fuzzy fabric tickled Aaron’s elbow too many times tonight. He figured he could suffer through the night with the pillow wedged into his side for a few more days. Days turned into one week. He then had to take a short trip to Minnesota for a case.

When he came back, his grudge against the pillow had grown. He would ask you to sleep without the pillow but each night he would wake to the cushion lodged in his back. He just couldn’t do it anymore.

He’d like to say it was the lack of sleep but deep down it was the lack of cuddles. Aaron would never admit out loud to being a man who loves cuddling. The team, especially Morgan would never let him live it down.

“Honey, you think we could do without the pillow for tonight? It’s far too big for our bed.”

“Handsome, I need it to sleep throughout the night. The baby likes it.”

He knew as soon as yoy said that, he would never be able to deny you the pillow. “Okay. I can’t deny my girls anything.”

“It’s a boy. I keep telling you I can feel it.” You debate. “You’re a profiler not a psychic.”

“I know that.” He deadpans as he slips under the covers and turns his lamp off. You watch as he pulls the covers over his stomach. He just looks so comfy and cute you toss your pillow to the side and snuggle up to him.

Aaron smirks triumphantly as your hand travels up his shirt and rubs his chest softly.

You focus on his deep breaths as he quickly succumbs to his sleep unlike you.

You toss and turn all night, huffing and puffing as Aaron clings to you. His arm is under your head as your belly rests against his ribcage. Aaron runs hot at nights and you need your blanket but right now you feel suffocated. You throw the blanket away from your body.

“Aaron. I can’t do this. I need to sleep with my pillow.” You groan and shift to sit up. Aaron groggily pushes at your lower back to help you up.

“I’m going to burn that pillow.” He mumbles under his breath. He believes he said it too low for you to hear but you do anyway.

“What? Why?” You gasp, pulling the pillow up from the floor.

“I haven’t gotten a proper nights sleep with that thing.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “And,” he emphasizes, “you don’t cuddle me at night anymore.”

It’s rude and you know it but you laugh. A genuine, from the belly, laugh. When you thought he couldn’t look more grumpy and stoic, he surprises you. It only makes you giggle louder and longer.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m sleeping with Jack.” He throws the comforter off his lap and moves his legs over the side of the bed.

“No! No, I’m sorry.” You struggle to rise to your knees, crawling towards him and reaching out. You pull at his t-shirt before he can get off the bed. “I don’t mean to laugh but… are you jealous of my pillow?”

“I’m not jealous.” He huffs and lets you pull him back onto the bed. His back hits the mattress and you dangle over him, hands on his shoulders. He’s upside down and even then you can see how annoyed he is.

“I’m sorry I’ve neglected you, handsome.” You cup his face, fingertips tickling under his chin and thumbs rubbing his lower lip and chin. Aaron crosses his arms over his chest. There’s a barely there pout on his lips.

You lean down as best as you can with your belly in the way. You kiss his lips somehow soft even with a slight chap to them. He melts almost immediately. You sit up to look at him, hands now on your belly.

“You know sometimes, when you’re away, I wrap one of your polos or sweaters around the pillow. They smell like you and it helps me sleep.” You brush hair from his forehead. “And if I’m feeling nasty, I even put a button up and tie.”

He snorts out a laugh. “Alright, no need for that.” He shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Fine, because that was really sweet and kind of funny, you can keep the pillow but it has to stay at the edge of the bed. Can’t be in between us.”

“No! I like facing you.” You pout. “I’m pregnant, you have to be nice to me.”

“I am very nice to you.” He states, sitting up. “We’re going to have to get a bigger bed.”

“That’s dramatic, Aaron but listen, I’ll compromise and sleep facing the other way as long as you spoon me.”

Aaron thinks for a moment, “deal.”

You stick out you hand for him and he immediately grabs it, shaking it.

You shake your head with a laugh before dropping back down onto the bed. You get comfortable as you snuggle against the pillow. Aaron watches and waits and when you’re settled, he shuts the light off and scoots his front flush to your back. His right hand snakes under his pillow and his left scoops under your belly.

“Just think, only a few more weeks of this and you won’t have to suffer.” You remind him, you’re reaching the end of your pregnancy.

He pulls you closer to him, head buried in the back of your neck. You feel him nod. He’s quiet and you gently twist in his arms to look at him. “You okay?”

“As much as I hate your pillow, I’m going to miss you being pregnant. I love seeing you with a bump.”

“Just think, we’ll finally have our baby. A little brother for Jack.”

“Or sister.” He whispers.

“Or sister.” You roll your eyes playfully. After a few moments of silence, you know he’s still awake, just savoring the moment with you. “Hey, do you think I can tell JJ about you being jealous of the pillow?”

“You tell JJ and she’s fired.” He jokes, “she’s my least favorite employee now.”

“I’ll be sure to tell her that when I see her.” You laugh.

[cinnamanz]

# ONLY ON CAMERA — chapter fifty-one!

when katseye's main dancer daniela avanzini accidentally throws shade at chart-topping singer y/n l/n on an interview, the internet erupts in chaos. with y/n already in hot waters with the press over her latest scandal, both their pr teams scramble for damage control. the solution? a 'picture-perfect' fake relationship to turn the headlines in their favor.

wc: 720 (its the last written chapter bro dont be lazy nd read it😔)

SHE

THE KNOCK AT THE DOOR WAS FAINT AT FIRST, almost swallowed by the roar of the rain. y/n glanced up from her phone, a furrow forming on her brow. another knock—firmer this time, more urgent. she sighed, setting her phone down and making her way to the door, her pulse quickening despite herself.

when she opened it, she froze.

there stood daniela, soaked to the skin, rainwater streaming from her hair and dripping off the hem of her jacket. she looked as messy as the storm outside—eyes rimmed red, lips trembling, her breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts.

y/n’s voice caught in her throat. “what are you doing he—”

“i’m sorry.” the words tumbled out of daniela’s mouth before y/n could finish, her voice breaking. “i’m so sorry. “just let me talk. let me—let me explain.”

y/n stepped back slightly, her hand tightening on the doorknob. “you shouldn’t be here,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

“i know,” daniela said, her voice breaking. “but i couldn’t stay away. i can’t—” she paused, dragging a hand through her wet hair, her shoulders trembling. “i can’t keep running from this. from you.”

y/n didn’t move, her hand gripping the door frame as she tried to steel herself. “why now?” she asked, her voice quieter than she’d meant it to be, the hurt bleeding through despite her effort to hold it back.

daniela blinked, tears slipping free and mixing with the rain still streaking down her face. “because i’ve been a coward,” she said, her voice raw. “because i’ve spent every second since i left you trying to convince myself i was better off alone, that i didn’t need this—didn’t need you. but i do. i need you, y/n.”

“i know i hurt you. i know i pushed you away, lied to myself, lied to you. i told myself it was better that way. that it was safer. but all i’ve done is destroy the one good thing i’ve ever had. you don’t deserve this,” daniela continued, her voice trembling, raw and unguarded. “you don’t deserve to be someone’s second choice or their escape. you deserve to be loved the way you love—completely, without hesitation. and i was too much of a coward to give that to you.”

y/n closed her eyes. “you think an apology fixes this? that just saying you’re sorry makes it all okay?”

“no,” daniela said, her voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t expect it to. but i had to try. because i love you. and if there’s even the smallest chance that you’ll let me prove it to you, then i’ll take it. even if it means standing here all night in the rain.”

y/n’s eyes opened, locking on daniela’s, and for the first time in weeks, she saw something in her gaze that felt genuine—raw and unguarded in a way daniela had never allowed herself to be.

she stepped back, the door swinging wider. “you’re an idiot. come in,” y/n said softly, the words catching in her throat.

daniela hesitated for a moment, as if she couldn’t believe it, before stepping through the threshold. y/n didn’t speak as she shut the door behind her, didn’t look at her, but when daniela turned, y/n’s arms were already around her, pulling her into an embrace that was as much a lifeline as it was a question.

“you’re a huge idiot.” daniela let out a sound at y/n’s words—a mix of a sob and a laugh—as y/n pulled her into a hug, the warmth of her embrace cutting through the chill. the rain from daniela’s skin and clothes attached themselves to y/n’s own clothes, fabric darkening as daniela pulled her closer, hug tightening.

“i love you.” the words fell from daniela’s lips, soft and certain, like they’d been waiting their whole life to find their way to y/n. they settled in the air between them, filling the space with something tender and warm, spreading through y/n’s chest like sunlight breaking through the clouds.

y/n’s cheeks flushed as a slow, uncontainable smile spread across her face. she hid her face in daniela’s neck, her voice barely above a whisper but full of passion that seeped through the seams. “i love you more.”

masterlist 🎸⋆⭒˚.⋆ next

is that... FLUFF??????

taglist : @meganskiendielsbtc @rosiehrs @artrizzler19 @goofymickeyr @sunshinez4 @urmom2314 @meizinisnumberone @yeetaberry127 @xochitlisbest @ssamlovr @saysirhc @nyssalvr @ninguitar @kristalag @1luvkarina @idleyuri @kathleenmikaelson @sed7ction @hazel-tanthamore22 @yazzyminny @vrtualstar @meiphobic @cassiespoiler @yjiminswallet @gtfoiydlyj @taikabui @cceanvvaves @c-yerim @waitsobs @firstclassjaylee @bowforgodjihyo @thepurin @chaepu @bandaidss320 @manonsmartini @haerinkisser @esccecvp @blushmimi TAGLIST CLOSED!

[strawchocoberry]

RISKY

‘Cause you’re wearing nothing but your perfume… It’s one hell of a view…

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ featuring. blade x fem reader

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ content warnings. smut, meanperv!blade, potential dubcon, car sex, outdoor sex, jerking off, degradation kink, praise kink, rough sex, nipple play, choking, slight manhandling, breeding kink

౨ৎ˚⋆˖ synopsis. you call him out for being a perv — word count. 2.1k

Blade is quiet as usual while driving his sleek red sports car. You’re sitting on the passenger seat, occasionally stealing glances of him. You can’t help it—and I’m not blaming you. Bladie looks so attractive all focused on the road ahead as he shifts gears and accelerates the car. You’ve grown used to having a sleep-deprived, suicidal driver. And though your heart continues to beat like crazy, now it’s for entirely other reasons—impure reasons. 

The two of you have just finished a successful infiltration mission given to you by Elio. Everything went according to the ‘script,’ so all’s well that ends well. You barely remember what the mission was about, too focused on the man driving next to you. Suits look good on him, you think as your eyes roam over his body, clad in that perfectly tailored dark suit. Your own dress is just as perfect, a little gift from Kafka; a fitted long black dress of silk with a split leg on the right side. No wonder you and Blade stole the show back there. 

“You’re staring,” Blade says, not missing a beat, his eyes still focused on the road ahead. They flicker to you for a brief second, the hint of a smirk ghosting over his lips, before he turns his attention back to the peaceful night street. 

“I’m not,” you retort, folding your arms to your chest. Your defensive tone betrays you, earning a chuckle from him. 

“Mhm,” is all he responds, the sound laced in sarcasm. He doesn’t believe you one bit. 

“As if you weren’t staring at me back there,” you mumble begrudgingly. You prop your elbow on the door and lean against your palm, your eyes taking in the blurred images of your surroundings as the car pierces through the night, the air caressing your skin, your hair dancing behind you. You’re determined to ignore him, though you can’t help but murmur, “Perv.” 

Blade bursts out laughing, the sound rich and filling the entire car, lingering in your eyes long after he’s calmed down, somewhat. His shoulders are still shaking with small laughs. You narrow your eyes at him, clearly annoyed by his laughter, though he doesn’t look at you once, keeping his eyes straight ahead. 

“So funny, yes,” you say, sarcasm dripping all over your words. “I called you a ‘perv’ and you’re laughing. My, I didn’t know you’d find that so funny, Bladie.” 

“Were you hoping for another reaction?” he asks, his tone suggestive, hinting at what you were indeed expecting. 

“Hmph!” You turn your head towards the other side. “In your dreams.” 

The car comes to a stop at a red light, which confuses you, since you’re the only car around. Plus, you’re Stellaron Hunters, wanted posters of you are hung around all over the cosmos. A minor offence like crossing a red light is nothing compared to all the other stuff you’ve done. 

“Since when do you care for—” 

The sound of his seat belt unbuckling barely registers, as Blade interrupts you by capturing your lips. For a moment, you’re just looking at him, eyes widened, staring into his own, feeling his smirk against your lips. He wraps a delicate hand around your neck, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp, giving him the perfect change to slide his tongue through your parted lips. Your hands come up to his chest, meaning to push him away, but they ultimately just remain there, palms planted over the hard muscles of his chest, as you lose yourself in him. 

When Blade finally breaks the kiss, your ragged breaths echo in the deafening silence, though that infuriating smirk on his lips is louder than the thrumming of your heart. He looks so maddeningly smug as he buckles up again, you want to smack that smirk off his face. You raise your hand to hit him, only for Blade to catch it midair, interlacing your fingers, as your entwined hands rest now on his thigh as he drives away. 

“Fucking perv,” you curse under your breath, though you can feel the heat increasing in your cheeks. 

Blade casually handles the car with one hand, while raising your hands to his lips. “Right, I’m a ‘perv,’” he murmurs, his lips brushing over your skin. He doesn’t break eye-contact with the road ahead as he kisses your hand, sneakily biting you, before resting your hands back on his thigh. You try to slip your hand from his, but he only tightens his grip. And eventually, you give up. 

After a while, when the car comes to a halt and Blade cuts the engine, you look around at the secluded spot he’s stopped. No cars, barely any lights, only a vast and open space by the side of the highway. This time, you hear it, loud and clear, the sound of his seat belt as he takes it off. Blade leans closer to you, his eyes roaming over you like a predator sizing up its prey, his fingers threading through the silky locks of your hair. 

“Why did you stop here?” you ask, your voice thankfully coming out steady. “We need to head back and report to Elio.” 

“Elio can wait,” Blade responds, clicking your seat belt open and leaning even closer, practically caging you between himself, the seat and the door. “But a ‘perv’ like me can’t.” 

“Y-You mean…” You gulp down hard, your eyes nervously looking around at your surroundings as if expecting someone to show up. “Right here?” 

“What?” Blade says, feigning ignorance, though his smirk betrays him. “Isn’t this what you wanted, princess? I thought all that staring and you calling me a ‘perv’ was because you wanted me to pull up to the side of the highway and pay attention to you.” His hand slips underneath your dress through the opening, climbing higher to your core. His fingers briefly rub over your panties, the damp fabric making his smirk more vexing than it already is. “Or was I wrong?” he taunts, as if the answer isn’t obvious. 

His hands cup your ass, lifting you off the seat, as he kisses your body over the fabric of your dress. One hand keeps your hips up, whilst the other fists the dress, pulling it up to your waist. You watch with a bated breath as Blade takes the waistband of your panties between his teeth and slides it down, lifting your legs up to take it off. When he slides it off your ankles, he brings it to his nose, inhaling the scent of your arousal, your cheeks catching fire at the sight. 

“You—! What are you—!” 

“Isn’t this what a ‘perv’ does?” Blade asks, stuffing your panties into the breast pocket of his suit jacket. His fingers grab the zipper of your dress, easily unzipping it and taking it off over your head, throwing it down on your legs. He cannot help but let out a low growl, the sound reverberating through his chest at the sight of your naked body. 

“S-Someone might see us,” you protest, although you lean your head back to give him better access to your neck, as he kisses you, sucking and leaving hickeys. 

Blade smirks as he looks up at you, his hands moving to your waist. “Nobody will see us,” he reassures. Before you have the time to complain once more, he shuts you up by kissing you again. One arm wraps around your waist, while the other slides up, gripping the back of your neck, as he pulls you closer to him. He keeps you hostage as he devours you, pressing your naked body against his suit-clad one, your breasts flattening against the hard muscles of his chest, your nipples erecting into little buds at the friction. 

When he pulls back, he lets you slump on the passenger seat as Blade leans against his own seat. Your eyes never leave him, watching him effortlessly unbuckle his belt and unzip his trousers, shoving them down along with his underwear just enough to free his aching cock. You watch as he angles himself better to look at you, his calloused hand wrapping around his dick and stroking the shaft, as his eyes roam over you, focusing on the marks he’s already left on your neck. 

“Your gaze tells me you want to ride my dick,” Blade coos, his hand still stroking his cock, his eyes now locked on yours. 

“I-I don’t!” Your cheeks burn and you hate how your high-pitched tone betrays you, even though all you want is to refute his words. But even if you managed to sound more unbothered, he can see it in your eyes and all over your body that you’re burning up with desire, just like him. 

Blade reaches out to you and helps you climb on his lap, your back to him. You feel him align himself with your entrance and your hands reach up to grab onto the windscreen. He grabs your waist and roughly slams your body down against him, groaning at the familiar sensation of your sweet cunt wrapped around his girth. 

“Fuck… I missed this,” Blade breathes out. His hands hold your waist as he sets a relatively slow tempo at first, giving you some time to adjust to him. Soft moans and mewls leave your lips, the sounds all the reassurance he needs to pick up the pace. He thrusts up inside you in rhythm with him slamming you down on him, hitting that spot deep inside you that has your eyes gazing at the back of your skull. 

“B-Blade, s-so big…” you shamelessly moan into the night. “Slow down…” 

Blade slaps your ass harshly, making you clench around him, as he caresses the already reddening spot. “I thought you were scared we’d get caught,” he coos. He leans closer, leaving a kiss to your shoulder blade. “What happened? Is this perv’s cock so good, you forgot all about your shyness now? Hmm, princess?” 

His hands move up to cup your breasts, feeling their weight and how they fill his palms. He toys with your nipples, pinching and twisting them to draw out more of your sweet little whimpers he adores. All the while you’re now riding his cock all on your own; just like he had said you would. Your knuckles have turned white from how hard you’re gripping the windscreen, but you couldn’t care less right now, your mind only filled with Blade. 

He kisses your back, biting at your sides and inhaling your signature perfume, getting intoxicated in the aroma and that scent that’s uniquely you. He can feel you getting close to your orgasm and can’t help teasing you. “Look at you, princess,” he taunts. “Such a good cock sleeve for a perv like me. Will you let me cum inside you too? Hmm? Will you let me fill this pretty pussy?”

“Yes! Oh Aeons— Yes, please!” you moan, completely out of your mind. The only thought ruling over you is your impending orgasm. “Please, Blade!” 

“My my,” he coos, his hands returning to grab your waist. Wasting no time, Blade grips your waist bruisingly tight, as he starts fucking you even rougher than before, driving both of you to the edge of pleasure and ecstasy. 

You’re babbling all kinds of incoherent words along with his name, when Blade slams you down on him one last time, burying himself to your depths as he cums thick ropes of cum inside you. Your pussy flutters and convulses around his shaft, milking every last drop of his seed, as he pulls your trembling body to rest against him. 

“Such a perfect cum slut,” Blade whispers in your ear, eliciting a whiny moan from your lips. He tilts your head to the side and kisses your lips, consuming all of your whimpers and complaints along with the rest of you. 

When the kiss breaks, you’re slightly dazed, the remnants of your orgasm still gleaming in your beautiful eyes, letting your body rest against his. Blade doesn’t move for a few moments, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion. 

But then, he starts thrusting up inside you, a white ring forming around his cock from your mixed essences. 

“Blade!” you scold. “We need to get back! Elio will be furious if we take any longer!” You try to escape, but his hold on your body is as solid as steel. “And… I’m somewhat sore…” 

Blade laughs, the sound reverberating on your back. He sucks on your neck and leaves another hickey to an empty spot, all the while still pounding into you. “Elio can wait,” he finally responds to your concerns. “As for being sore already…” he trails off as his eyes lock with yours. 

There’s a fire in his red orbs that threatens to burn you alive. And despite your mind’s warnings, you find yourself wanting to eternally burn in this man’s fire. 

“I can only promise you’ll be sore for a long time after I’m done with you, princess.”

© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work

[scoupsakakitty]

Hiii can i request something like this mingyu's story, so basically a oneshot maybe longer oneshot 🛐🛐🛐 so yeah they meet again maybe mingyu recognize her but she doesn't recognized him until mingyu told her so yeah and the story continues HAHAHAHA

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS6QD4gYn/

Childhood Love | idol!Mingyu x Reader | fluff

The sound of chatter and laughter filled the café as Y/N walked in, her fingers brushing against the strap of her bag. It had been a long day, and she needed a moment to relax. She ordered her usual latte and scanned the room for an empty table.

At the corner of the café, Kim Mingyu froze mid-sip of his Americano. His eyes widened as he watched her. It had been over a decade, but he would recognize her anywhere. The confident posture, the thoughtful way she glanced around it was all the same.

“Y/N…” he whispered to himself, a nostalgic smile creeping onto his lips.

He thought he’d forgotten about her. Life had moved on, and so had he debuting with Seventeen, countless schedules, and fame that had taken him far from the quiet town where they’d first met. But there she was, the girl who had stolen his nine-year-old heart without even knowing it.

Mingyu hadn’t planned to approach her at first. Maybe it wasn’t the right time. Maybe she wouldn’t remember him. But as fate would have it, Y/N ended up taking a seat just a table away from his.

“Mingyu, don’t overthink it,” he muttered under his breath, taking another sip of his coffee for courage.

He finally stood up and walked over, clearing his throat softly. “Excuse me, but… is your name Y/N?”

Y/N looked up, slightly startled. Her eyes met his, and she tilted her head, studying his face. “Yes, that’s me. Have we met before?”

Mingyu chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not surprised you don’t recognize me. It’s been a long time. I’m Mingyu. Kim Mingyu. We were in the same class in elementary school.”

Her brows furrowed in concentration as she tried to place him. “Kim Mingyu… Wait, were you the tall kid who always forgot his homework?”

He laughed, a deep, familiar sound that tugged at something in her memory. “Guilty. And you were the class president who always reminded me to turn it in.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in realization, her lips parting in surprise. “Oh my God, Mingyu! I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it,” he said with a grin, taking a seat across from her without asking. “It’s really been that long, hasn’t it?”

She nodded, still processing the sudden reunion. “It has. I think the last time I saw you was… when I transferred schools? I was, what, nine?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu said softly. “You just disappeared one day. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

The atmosphere shifted slightly, a wave of nostalgia settling between them. Y/N smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry about that. It all happened so quickly. My parents decided to move, and before I knew it, I was in a new school.”

“I figured as much,” Mingyu said. “But I always wondered how you were doing.”

Over the next hour, they caught up, sharing stories of what had happened since those childhood days. Y/N talked about her career, her hobbies, and how much she missed the simpler days of childhood. Mingyu, on the other hand, hesitated to bring up his fame.

“So, what do you do now?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Mingyu shifted in his seat, a sheepish smile on his face. “Well… I’m in a group. A K-pop group, actually. Seventeen.”

Her jaw dropped slightly. “Wait, the Seventeen? You’re kidding.”

He laughed. “Nope. That’s me. I guess I grew up a bit from the kid who couldn’t even remember his homework.”

Y/N shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you right away. I’ve seen your posters everywhere.”

“You didn’t recognize me because I don’t look like the nine-year-old kid you used to boss around,” Mingyu teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

She laughed, and the sound sent a rush of warmth through him. He had missed this missed her.

As the conversation continued, Mingyu found himself unable to hold back any longer. There was something he had to say, something he had carried with him for years.

“Y/N,” he began, his tone more serious now. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” she said, leaning in slightly.

“When we were kids… I had the biggest crush on you.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and a soft blush crept up her cheeks. “You did?”

He nodded, his smile turning a bit shy. “Yeah. You were always so smart and confident. You didn’t even notice me half the time, but I thought you were amazing.”

Y/N blinked, a mix of emotions flashing across her face. “I had no idea.”

“I figured,” Mingyu said with a laugh. “You were focused on being the perfect class president. And then you left, and I never got the chance to tell you. But now that you’re here… I couldn’t keep it to myself.”

Y/N smiled warmly, her gaze softening. “Mingyu, that’s really sweet. I’m sorry I was too busy being bossy to notice back then.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It was a long time ago,” he said, though his heart raced as he looked at her. “But maybe… we could make up for lost time now?”

Her smile widened, and she nodded. “I’d like that.”

As they left the café together, Mingyu couldn’t help but feel like fate had given him a second chance. The childhood crush he thought he’d lost forever was now walking beside him, and this time, he wasn’t going to let her slip away.

————————————————————————————-

[megumismyhusband]

It was wrong, you knew it was. yet you can’t help but think of him that way. Michael Kaiser was gonna be your downfall.

He was here again—just like always, comfortable in your home as if it were his own. Your brother had gone to the gym, leaving you alone with the man who had unknowingly stolen your heart years ago.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Kaiser said, breaking the silence. His voice was smooth, tinged with curiosity as his sharp blue eyes flicked up to meet yours. “What’s on your mind?”

You shrugged, hoping to seem nonchalant. “Nothing important.”

“Liar,” he teased, leaning his elbows on the counter, closer now. “I can see the wheels turning in your head.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away, busying yourself with a non-existent speck on the counter. How could he be so casual, so effortlessly charming, while you were practically bursting at the seams?

“I just didn’t sleep well,” you mumbled. It wasn’t a complete lie; you hadn’t slept well—because of him.

He tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your heart race. “Hmm. You sure that’s all?”

“Why do you care?” you shot back, a little sharper than you intended.

His lips quirked into a grin, the kind that made your stomach flip. “Because I do. Is that so hard to believe?”

You froze, the air suddenly thick between you. It wasn’t what he said—it was the way he said it. Like he meant it.

“Michael…” His name felt heavy on your tongue, weighted with years of unspoken feelings.

He set his mug down and moved around the counter, closing the space between you. “You’ve been avoiding me lately,” he said softly, his voice dipping low enough to make your pulse quicken. “Why?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” you lied.

“Liar,” he repeated, his grin softening into something gentler.

You swallowed hard as he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming but intoxicating. The scent of his cologne wrapped around you, and you cursed yourself for being so weak.

“This is dangerous,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Why?” His hand brushed yours, the brief contact sending sparks up your arm. “Because of your brother?”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep the words from tumbling out.

He let out a soft chuckle, his other hand coming up to gently tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Your brother doesn’t get to decide how I feel about you. Or how you feel about me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you stared at him, searching his eyes for any sign of insincerity. But there was none—just raw, unfiltered emotion that matched your own.

“And how do you feel about me?” you asked, barely recognizing your own voice.

He smiled, the kind of smile that made the world feel like it was standing still. “I feel like you’ve been driving me crazy for months. And I feel like I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

Before you could process his words, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft and slow and everything you’d ever dreamed it would be.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “So, what do you think?” he murmured, a hint of mischief returning to his voice.

“I think you’re going to be my downfall,” you replied, a shaky laugh escaping your lips.

He grinned, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Then let me fall with you.”

[dulcescorderitas]

03

parings: married!deanwinchester x married!reader

synopsis: hunting w your husband and his brother

warnings: no smut

the smell of melted butter and sugar hung heavy in the air, the oven kicking out waves of heat that made the kitchen toasty in the early morning chill. you stood at the counter, hair messy and still slightly damp from your shower, rolling dough between your hands into perfect little spheres. chocolate chips poked out here and there, their glossy, dark surfaces promising a burst of sweetness when they finally hit the road.

behind you, the sound of boots scuffing against hardwood meant sam was up, his towering shadow cutting across the warm light spilling from the kitchen window.

“you’re baking… cookies?” sam asked, his voice tinged with that distinct tone of incredulous disbelief he always got when you and dean did something domestic. “at six in the morning? before a hunt?”

you didn’t even turn around, biting back a grin as you placed another dough ball on the baking sheet. “good morning to you too, sam.”

dean’s voice cut through before sam could respond, a low, gravelly drawl that somehow managed to sound teasing even when he was half-asleep. “yeah, sammy. cookies. you got a problem with cookies?”

dean strolled into the kitchen behind his brother, barefoot and shirtless, his jeans slung low on his hips and his hair sticking up in every direction. he scratched lazily at his chest as he made his way toward you, leaning down to press a kiss to the curve of your neck. the warm scrape of his stubble sent a little shiver dancing down your spine, and you couldn’t help the way your lips twitched into a smile.

“morning, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin.

“morning,” you replied softly, nudging him with your elbow as he reached for the raw dough on the baking sheet. “don’t even think about it.”

dean groaned dramatically, his hand retreating but not before he snagged a stray chocolate chip from the counter and popped it into his mouth. “what? you’re gonna bake cookies and not let me taste test?”

“you can taste test when they’re done,” you said firmly, wagging the wooden spoon in your hand at him like a teacher scolding a naughty student. “now go get dressed. we’ve got a long drive ahead.”

dean didn’t move, though. instead, he leaned against the counter beside you, arms crossed over his bare chest, and gave you a look—a look that said he had no intention of going anywhere anytime soon. his green eyes sparkled with that signature winchester mischief, his smirk cocky and playful as he nodded toward the cookies.

“you’re making cookies for the hunt?” he asked, clearly amused but not the least bit judgmental.

“and packing lunch,” you added, tilting your head toward the cooler on the floor by the fridge. “peanut butter sandwiches, chips, apples, the works.”

sam’s eyebrows shot up, his gaze bouncing between you and the cooler like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “you’re… packing lunch? for a hunt? like we’re going on a field trip or something?”

dean’s laugh was a low rumble in his chest, and he clapped a hand on sam’s shoulder. “that’s my wife,” he said, his voice full of pride as he gave you a wink. “she keeps us fed so we don’t have to live off gas station burritos and crappy diner coffee.”

sam rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath about how he was perfectly fine with diner coffee, but he didn’t argue further. he knew better than to question your methods when it came to taking care of dean—and by extension, him.

the impala hummed beneath you as dean drove, one hand on the wheel and the other casually resting on your thigh. the cooler sat snugly in the backseat beside sam, who had already polished off one of the peanut butter sandwiches you’d packed despite his earlier skepticism.

“i still can’t believe you brought cookies,” sam muttered, his mouth full of crumbs as he reached for another one.

“yeah, and look who’s eating them,” you shot back, twisting in your seat to give him a pointed look. “you’re welcome, by the way.”

dean chuckled, squeezing your thigh gently as he glanced over at you. “see, this is why i married you. cookies and sandwiches. you’re a damn saint, sweetheart.”

“is that the only reason?” you teased, arching a brow at him.

“oh, there’s plenty of reasons,” he said, flashing you that cocky grin that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. “but the cookies definitely sealed the deal.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you said, laughing as you leaned into his shoulder, the familiar scent of leather and aftershave wrapping around you like a second skin.

“you love me,” he replied without missing a beat, his thumb tracing lazy circles against your leg.

and he was right. you did.

the hunt itself was nothing special—a small town, a restless spirit, a salt-and-burn. but the memory of that morning, of dean stealing cookie dough when he thought you weren’t looking and sam begrudgingly admitting that the sandwiches were “actually pretty good,” stayed with you long after the ghost was gone.

because for all the danger, all the chaos, and all the nights spent wondering if you’d make it back in one piece, it was mornings like that—messy, loud, and full of warmth—that made it all worth it. it was about the little moments, the stolen smiles, the way dean’s hand never left yours when the job was done.

and yeah, maybe it was also about the cookies.

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis

[stcrgazings]

so american 𓇼 ⋆.˚ op81

note… im sorry i know that this song is about all those london boys but my man oscar deserves some appreciation, and i think it turned out really fun, i wrote this in like a day so it’s not proofread, but i hope all my Oscar girlies enjoy. <3

warnings… mentions of alcohol if you like squint very very hard, and implications of smut.

summary… you’re all about those chick-fil-a and parties in the usa, but also all about a driver named oscar piastri who shows you that maybe australian food is better than all the taco bells in the world, you’re so very american but also so very in love.

word count… 1.5k (shortie but goodie)

—

You’re standing in the middle of a stage in some shady karaoke somewhere in Japan, he’s sitting right in front of you, smiling, completely mesmerized like he always seems to be when it comes to you.

“Driving on the right side road…”

—

“Please be careful, please.” He begs as he covers one eye, you’re obviously smiling completely amused by his freak out behavior as you pull out to the road.

You’re a new team ambassador, and have been for a few months now, the team completely thrilled to have one of the most famous singers in the world and the newest it girl of the generation wanting to spent so much time at their paddock and shooting content for them.

But of course you’ll do it if it means you get to be with Oscar.

“Will you calm down? I’ve driven before you know.” You joke, while he paces himself, you’re in some deserted roads near the McLaren headquarters, and he looks completely miserable.

“Yeah I know, but I can’t help but freak out when you’re driving on the wrong side of the road in my two hundred and forty thousand euros car.” He says, his hand grabbing the steering wheel slightly, pulling the car in to the right side of the road.

“Oh shoot, I forgot, it’s not my fault everything here is backwards Osc.” He laughs, rolling his eyes, while you bite your lip, completely ashamed and blushed too.

“Jesus, you’re so American.”

—

“Chick-fil-A is better than any Australian restaurant.” You say matter of factly, Oscar staring at you like you just murdered his entire family.

“No it’s not, take it bac-“

“-Is that Oscar’s sweater?” Lando interrupts him as he stares at you, more specifically at the sweater you’re wearing, one that he is certain he has seen Oscar wear at least a hundred times.

You blush as you nod. “Yeah, Osc let me borrow it back at the airport.” You explain, bitting your tongue as you beg to god that Lando believes the blatant lie you just told.

Oscar, just smiles innocently, clearly entertained by the situation, like you didn’t have to borrow the sweater in the first place because last night he gifted you hickey in your collar bone the size of Europe.

“Doesn’t she look pretty?” He asks, Lando still pretty much confused and lost of words, while you cover your blushed face with your hands.

“I’m not really understandi-“

—

“You have the coldest hands, it’s not even funny” you joke, while you feel his smirk right against your neck, making you giggle softly.

You’re in a cramp up supplies closet in the McLaren garage, his hands sneaking under your shirt, the coldness of them making you shiver and laugh as they unbutton your Bra.

“Well, you certainly seemed to love them last night, and this morning too.” He teased, removing your shirt completely as you pushed him slightly, pulling him back almost immediately to kiss him.

“I hate you” you managed to say in between kisses, your mind completely reduced to pout as your head is thrown back while he nips your jaw and then your neck and then-

"-Where the hell is Oscar?! Practice starts in ten minutes” the voice of one of the McLaren engineers interrupts him, your eyes shoot open, pushing him away almost immediately, because you’re not about to be caught half naked and making out by one of his engineers.

“Aaaand we’re done here” you declare. Oscar groans in frustration, his head placed in your naked chest. “Kill me now”

You pressed your lips together, knowing you won’t be able to continue your little escapade, your hands leaving soft pets all over his hair.

“You need to go babe.” You whisper, lips against his head, leaving one soft kiss there, as he hands you your shirt and bra from the concrete floor.

“I hate it here” he complains, as you put your clothes back on and he guards the door so that no one walks in to watch you naked.

“Kiss” you say, puckering your lips at him.

He smirks. “No” he jokes with a killer smile on his face but he’s already leaning in to kiss you.

—

“You were supposed to take that exit!” He exclaims, pointing at the exit that you just passed.

“You told me in 1.2 miles! That wasn’t 1.2 miles!” You exclaims, clearly stressed as you tries to switch lanes while Oscar covers his face with his hands, laughing. “I said kilometers baby, not miles”

“You know that I don’t do kilometers!” You protest clearly frustrated because you hate driving in highways, while he smiles at you sweetly, his feet on the dashboard and his head pressed against his hands behind his neck.

You turn around to see him, just for a second, he’s smiling brightly, like he always is, UK’s sun shining into his face, making him even more dreamy than he already is. Oscar is someone you sometimes feel like he isn’t even real, like you just made him up, an old poem you’d wish you’d wrote.

“It’s okay baby, I’ll just be late to the meeting.” He smiles, as you take the next exit, so he can drive and you can admire him a little longer.

—

“I might just be in love guys” you tell you’re friends, who look at you completely astonished and completely lost of words, at you and your heart eyes face.

“I mean he’s cute, but in love? Girl, is he that good? Your best friend asks, and you nod, an amusement expression setting in her face.

“I’ve never seen you like this” your other friend says, and it’s true, because no one’s ever make you feel like Oscar does.

“I mean, he’s just so charming, and pretty, and nice and a gentleman in all senses of the word, he laughs at all my jokes, buys me flowers when there’s no special occasion and even sends deliveries to my apartment with just the food I like. I mean who could I not be in love?” You try to explain yourself, as they all mock you.

“Oh yes Oscar! I’ll go to fucking Azerbaijan with you!” One of them says in a high pitched voice, the whole table laughing, making you throw your French Fries at them.

Because yes, you did ditch them for a race weekend in Baku with him, because how could you not.

“Well guys, when you guys have a handsome f1 pilot of a boyfriend you’ll understand why I’ll go anywhere he goes.” You tell them, completely defeated against their teasing. “I’m sorry if I’m being a little too much just a little too soon”

You apologize, but you’re 100% not sorry.

“About that, because I too want an f1 pilot of a boyfriend. Can you do me solid with the Charles Leclerc guy? Because man he can get it”

“Oh my god!”

—

“I’m telling you guys! They are totally sleeping together.” Lando tells Carlos and Charles, as the three of them share lunch, the Ferrari pair not believing a word of what he’s saying.

“Man, there’s no way Oscar scored the hottest chick in the planet” Carlos says, taking a bite of his pastrami sandwich, Lando completely frustrated at the fact that absolutely no one believes him and his theory that you and Oscar are sleeping together.

“Yeah dude, forget it, even I wanna sleep with her.” Charles adds, and Lando groans in frustration pulling his hair out and also offended for Oscar.

“You’re telling me you don’t think my boy has game?” He accused the pair, the both of them nodding like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“To pull that?” Charles points with his head one of your advertisement with McLaren. “Definitely not.”

—

He’s just won in Hungary, and it makes you feel something that you’ve never even felt before as he blows a kiss at you from the podium, your stomach fluttering like a 16-year-old kid.

You feel your heart grow with pride and love, smiling at him from the pit, champagne splashing you everywhere.

You made your relationship public just a few hours ago, a very hard launch as he posted a picture of you eating breakfast in his hotel room.

Lando wins five hundred bucks, Carlos, Charles, Lewis and two McLaren engineers lost a hundred each.

You’re ecstatic, even with the media and the gossips talking about a possible pr relationship you’re pretty much happier than ever.

And you don’t know if what you now have is forever, but something in your gut tells you it is, because he’s the most real thing you’ve ever found, not even fair or close to what your past relationships had been.

That night, you celebrated between drunken kisses and twisted sheets, and for now it’s more that enough.

But you do promise yourself that one your so american ass, will marry him.

[mapleandgingeroatmeal]

Alright! Rosie got the last one. Now it’s my turn. 

First off, credit where credit's due, I actually agree with you on the origin comic for the most part. Adding that first traumatic return to the backstory really undercuts the catharsis of the moment Veth finally returns to Yeza in Xhorhas and he embraces her unconditionally after all the built up tension of not knowing if he was going to, imo. This is the last place we agree unfortunately.

However, I have to tell you that nobody was actually misunderstanding you before. They got what you were saying, they just disagreed with it. It is such a gross misreading of the text to say that there is something fundamentally similar about how the two of them left their respective children behind. Sure they both did, but beyond that surface-level detail every piece of context that comes after is nearly opposite. Liliana made her own independent  choice to leave a place of safety, love, and security to fulfill her own needs without her child. Veth was kidnapped and tortured and in a moment of extreme duress made the ultimate sacrifice to allow her child to escape without her.

The “Hag thing” (and GOD I can’t believe we’re re-litigating this again) does not actually prove anything about Veth accept that she’s human and experiences temptation. She didn’t take a violent action. She thought about it briefly and experienced extreme guilt immediately afterwards. If anything, that proves how deeply UNLIKE Liliana she is. When presented with a very similar choice to knowingly sacrifice potentially hundreds of lives for the sake of solving her immediate personal problem, Veth makes the opposite choice that Liliana does. She prioritizes the safety of the world. She does so a SECOND time with Halas in the happy fun ball in fact. Don’t you think Liliana would have made both of those deals in a heartbeat?  

The argument that Veth should have done more to be immediately at her husband and son’s side feels to me to be deeply rooted in this very misogynistic idea that to be the best mother possible a woman must be entirely present with her whole self for a child no matter what. What do you think would have happened, comics aside, if Veth had come home as a goblin to a town that hated the way she looked? Would You have just hid her in the basement for the rest of her life? And Luc was with the goblins too, you know. Would you want her to try and parent him using the face of the creatures who tortured and starved him? It would have done nothing but retraumatize both of them. There was never really any choice there. She made every effort she could to parent from a distance, anyway; remember the first act she makes once she has some real money in Zedash is to send it home to Luc. She also works her hardest, as you even said, to do everything in her power to get herself back as soon as possible. Would you rather her sitting meekly at home hiding in the basement, living a life of fear and secrecy, in a body she hates, hoping that some day her husband or someone else will wander by and save her?

I don’t even know what to say about the parenting stuff. Is she a dreadful parent because sometimes she goes and does other things? Because she’s not quiet and gentle and sweet with Luc? Because she’s occasionally honest about how difficult and exhausting parenting a traumatized teenager can be, especially if you have an indulgent streak out of guilt after missing years of his childhood to tragedy and circumstance? Because if you think those things make you a dreadful parent than I’m telling you now that more than half the moms in this world are going to deeply disappoint you. 

If the Good Moms of Critical Role ever learn about the shit Liliana's pulled it's on sight 😤

[pastlivesxpastlie]

𓍯𓂃Lovesick

mdni 18+

Summary: Vessel becomes fixated with you after you provide him some comfort at a party. Are you as gone for him, too? Pairing: Vessel x fem!reader wc: 4.7k head's up: vessel x you, smut with plot, friends to lovers, afab!reader, no y/n, oral sex (m receiving), pining + yearning, talk of male masturbation, texting, absolutely idiots in love, angst, bit of a slow burn (?), use of "good boy" and "good girl," tit play, couch sex, cowgirl, light choking, HEA, threats of waxing poetic about progressive metal

Taglist aka Situation Enjoyers™️: @lifemod17 @glitterghost @inv3ga @adenobabe @jeriiicho @milk--bones @myaudiocommentary @horsebiologist @intake-of-breath @fruitsandcheese @0hg00dgirl @goosepond69 @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul @lynzeequitlollygagging @thatxxjiyong-ssi @cloudy-soul @daddysaidbringthethunder @cheomain @evisnotok

“On your knees….please. Yes, like that. Mmmmph. Thank you.”

Vessel can’t help but still be polite. He can’t believe his eyes. Nor the feeling of the night air on his hard cock. He’s floating above himself and watching himself get jerked off outside at a house party. It’s not enough that he feels the spit on your palm. That could be his hand and this is just an elaborate fantasy. One of many.

But it would be the first about you. You were untouchable. You’re just a friend…just a friend…just a friend…only a friend. 

“Can I use my mouth?”

Holy fuck. This is real life.

In his fantasies, no one asks. Vessel doesn’t dream about giving consent. He dreams of being craved. Taken. Always willing. His breath catches. 

“Hey, it’s ok,” you whisper, “we don’t have to anyth-“

“Do anything to me. Please.”

His head falls back with a soft thud against the house. Getting head was always fun but this felt therapeutic. You had, of course, asked Ves why he seemed down. You always asked him those kinds of things. “Someone who cares asks those things,” he’d told himself, “but someone who loves you does something about it.” Now you’re on your knees in the dirt sucking him off. How did this even happen?

𓍯𓂃earlier...

Vessel slumped in the couch and mindlessly dragged his fingers on his thigh. He had made his rounds and said “hi” to the people he wanted to talk to and smiled awkwardly at the people he sought to avoid or didn’t know. He deserved a little sit down after that. The past few months had put him in a rut. There was always a post-tour slump but this one hit different. Vessel felt down. Down because he had writer’s block. Down because it had been gloomy this week and the week before and before that etc etc. Down because his bed was cold. Thinking back on the hook-ups during tour already got boring. The old encounters going stale. Does he hook up again with someone randomly against his better judgement or does he deal with it?

On more than one occasion, Vessel had been accused of being naive when it came to love, to which he responded, “I’m just being cautious.” Where some might be naive about love and affection and throw themselves at the first person who did the bare minimum, Vessel was naive in that he just figured people were being nice or he just got lucky. Otherwise, people didn’t really want to mess with being in a relationship with a musician. They’re broody. They’re too busy. They’re married to their work. They’re full of themselves. Vessel internalized those things. Sure he was broody to begin with, but that was his brand. But everything else, sure, he could be married to his work and keep himself busy. “Just earth sign things!” Easy as that. And maybe one day someone else’s indifference towards commitment would rub off on him. His rumination is interrupted when the couch sinks a bit beside him and he feels a soft punch on his arm. 

“What does it mean when I don’t get ‘hi’ or your awkward smile, hm?”

His heart warms up a bit. It’s you. You teeter somewhere between “friend” and “good friend.” It’s always nice to see you but you leave it at that. You see each other when you see each other. He shrugs and looks over at you. “Didn’t see you. Bet you were hiding or something.” 

“Tsk. Fine. Maybe I was. We know too much about each other’s awkward little quirks,” you sigh. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to see you, though. How you been?”

Vessel laughs to himself, thinking of the miserable spiral you interrupted. “Imagine how much more awkward this could get if I told you the truth.” But you don’t laugh at his little self-deprecation. That makes him nervous. His insides churn. You’re just watching him, waiting to hear what he has to say. Why do you do that? So many people ask “how are you” because it’s polite…why do you care so much? “Look.” Vessel finally speaks again and flattens his hair. “I’m not great.” 

You shift and exhale softly. “Yeah. Me neither.”

“Really?”

���Really.”

He can see it in your eyes. You’re not trying to have some misery-loves-company-circlejerk. You have that same “mask” on as him. “Hate to hear that.” For a second Vessel feels something stir within him. Your tone is unenthusiastic but he knows it has nothing to do with him. He’s just glad to bond with someone, even if it’s over something lame like depression or whatever is eating at you both. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh just…general bullshit.” You shrug but Vessel knows whatever it is, you can’t just shrug it off. “Like if I’m so stuck, maybe this is where I’m meant to be. Even if it hurts.”

He makes an “o” shape with his mouth and is lost in thought. He has certainly felt that way before, but hearing you say it about yourself is heretical. He hates that you think that way. “No.”

“Oh. Well…alright. Thanks Ves, you healed me.” You chuckle dryly. He rolls his eyes and pats your leg. “So what’s got you down? For real.”

Vessel’s smile fades. “I feel…stuck as well. Just…going through the motions.” He scratches the back of his neck. “All the excitement of the last couple of months just…ripped from me. Gets hard to keep up with my emotions when I’m…frankly…bored. Bored of feeling this way. My own company.”

“I get that. Like you have to have things changing or moving all the time.”

“Exactly. Like some kind of jump that isn’t a substance or…whatever.”

“Hah…yeah… sometimes I just feel like…” you begin but pause.

“Like what?” Why are you blushing like that, he wonders idly. And why is it suddenly the cutest thing he’s ever seen?

“Uhm. I feel like…I need to get laid. That would fix me, right? Huge load of emotions and hormones released with someone you like…what could be better?”

“Oh is it that simple?” Vessel laughs. A genuine, warm laugh. You’re so silly, he just loves talking to you. And he loves how you laugh with him. He was scared for a second that you might take it personally, but he’s glad to see that you too have a sick sense of humor when you’re feeling unwell. 

“Maybe it is. Guess…we won’t know until…” you trail off.

“Until we try…” Vessel’s throat goes dry. He tries to swallow hard before nonchalantly scoping out how many people were on the patio. 

𓍯𓂃

Vessel always had to make things happen, and he was fucking exhausted from it. Now you were happening to him. You clued in on what he wanted when he suggested you both get some fresh air. Hell, you were the one who found the perfect spot for this tryst. 

“Y-you like doing that?” he whimpers. He can’t make out much of your features but he feels you nod and smile and…fuck, take him deeper in your mouth. He’s holding his breath. He knows he shouldn’t but if he doesn’t exert some kind of control over himself he’ll lose it. But when you grab his waist and start literally fucking your face with his cock he has to let go. He grips your hair, willing himself to resist overpowering you and thrusting harder against your movements. “Ffffff-fffuck.” He whimpers softly and bites at his lip… wishing you had kissed him before you got started so he could imagine it again while you savored every inch of him. His entire body shivers when you moan against his cock, making him realize you like the sound of his whimpers. His pathetic little pleas and moans.

“‘That feel good, Ves?” You whisper, stroking his cock as you catch your breath? “Hmm?”

He nods and whines, trying to not be loud. Thank god it was dark, otherwise you would have seen the tears threatening to spill. The way he bit his hand to keep from moaning out loud. What if you two got caught? What if another friend heard what you pulled from him? “Fuck…you’re gonna make me cum…”

“That’s a good boy.” Vessel feels his stomach drop as you start sucking him off again but with more enthusiasm. Like you need him to cum. And he does. But you don’t move…you keep your mouth on him. And he  might be the one cumming down your throat but he’s not claiming you. No. 

You. 

Own. 

Him. 

Somehow, and much to his delight, Vessel does not lose sleep over the ordeal or his new-found, all-consuming feelings for you. In fact, he’s never slept better. Sleeping once meant loud, restless dreams; now it means a nestling in and wondering about you before dozing off…imagining he’s holding you. He keeps telling himself it’s infatuation. It’ll go away. He’s just starstruck from the way you took care of him. But then…the ruminating started…

Each morning, Vessel wondered about you. Maybe today you’ll share something on Instagram that he can make a little comment on. Send a react. Yes, sure, you’re friends, but you’re not “close.” When he looked into your soft, sweet eyes the other night he wondered how a darling little thing like you learned to give head like that. Suddenly your life story became his Roman Empire. Were you a natural? Did someone give you gentle pointers the first few times? Or did you have to do it a lot to get good? Did you have to go jumping from man to man to find the love you so desperately craved? This made Vessel’s blood run cold. The thought of sweet, wonderful you merely being an option to other men. A small voice told Vessel that perhaps he himself was just an option. Maybe you did stuff like this a lot. One among many. Vessel chided this voice. Locked it in a dark little room with no ventilation. You were good. You wouldn’t use anyone. In fact, you probably did learn this from practice because who wouldn’t love you?

Vessel knows he’s being stupid. You two like each other but he won’t reach out. Then again, you don’t reach out either. That’s ok. He had no coherent plan of moving things forward. He was also terrified the spark you two shared would be gone if you tried hanging out again. What if you couldn’t handle his schedule? Or didn’t find it endearing when his moods never let up? What if that stupid voice was right? Most of the time, he resigned himself back to “I’ll see her when I see her,” and a cheeky wank to take the edge off. But that always left him feeling guilty. Empty. 

This particular morning he had been deep in thought about what your favorite position might be and how many times he could make you cum just from fucking you at a torturous pace that way. Today’s position of choice was doggy, but bent over his desk, on top of his notes from recording and writing sessions. That was what you deserved. You drove him to absolutely hopeless distraction…you should be bent over while he stands behind you, fingers melting into your flesh, holding you in place. He swears this will be the last time he jerks off thinking about you…but because of that he can’t help but edge himself. Thinking about you is easy. Not because you yourself are easy…but because Vessel realizes how naturally desirable you are. Seeing the way you took control and took care of him opened his mind to this entirely new world of fantasies. The heat blooming from his groin to his tummy made him stop for the third time. Yes, in this fantasy you were bent over for him…but there was more to it. You were doing him a favor. Good boys got to take breaks. Good boys stuck in a rut need to empty their brains and fill up their girlfriends. FUCK he wanted you to be his girlfriend so bad. And that thought scared him…as does the sound of his phone buzzing a few times. His train of thought vanishes along with his hard-on. Cursing whoever who messaging him this early, he grabs his phone but then makes the most embarrassing noise known to man. 

You: hey isn’t this a band you like?

the second message is the link to an instagram post

You: they’re doing a last minute show next weekend 

And sure enough, one of his favorite niche prog metal bands was playing in place of someone else at a local venue on Saturday. And tickets were dead cheap. Another message. 

You: if I knew anything about metal I’d go with you. Not sure how much fun I’d be 

Sirens! Flashing lights! All the bells and whistles going off in Vessel’s brain are firing. His inner little voices of reason (and everything in between) begin a debate.

“She’s flirting!” “Obviously, she’s flirting she sucked your dick.” “Can’t be that deep mate, she’s just now talking to you after a month.” “Sure it is, it is has to be flirting! She’s practically begging for you to invite her!”

Vessel: lol I could send you a playlist :)

“Mate, come on, what are you doing?” “Invite her over to hear the playlist. That’ll will be cute” “and then fuck her. Fuck her like the sl—“

Vessel rolls over and screams in his pillow. He will not have a meltdown over this.

Vessel: or we could throw you in feet first? Come with me? 

… … … 

Those infernal fucking “typing” bubbles are killing him. 3 minutes of that. Then no response. Vessel isn’t sure what he did wrong or if he did do anything wrong. He tries to go about his day but there’s still that nagging suspicion that he did too much. But when he least expects it…

You: sorry this is so last minute. are you busy tonight? 

Vessel: no, I’m not. Why?

He bites his lip as he waits to see what you’re planning. He wonders if you want to talk about what happened…or maybe do it again…or maybe act like nothing happened. 

You: I just don’t want to be alone tonight.  Vessel: I don’t want to be either.

It’s set then. He’ll go to your place…maybe have some drinks…maybe get a chance to thank you for the fun. He wanted to taste you. To make you cum like he did for you. Too many nights he spent wondering what you’re into. He had cast you in his mind as a soft domme, probably just because that’s what tickled his fancy at the time. But you had this caring…almost nurturing sense about you that night. You touched him like he was precious…like he would break if you didn’t take your time. He wanted to show you he was tougher than that. He could take it. The mere thought of even getting a chance to kiss you and make you feel even a fraction of the pleasure you gave him made his cock twitch. The time between now and when he was reunited with you would be torture.

But when he gets to your place, he doesn’t feel confident enough to act smooth or even touch you. If anything, he wanted to touch your hair. Literally just brush back the strands you missed when you tucked it behind your ear. Finally he musters the courage to stand beside you as you’re getting him some water. You’ve sucked his dick, the least he can do is move your hair. He moves in for the kill…but perhaps a bit too fast, because just as his hand reaches your personal space, you turn your head to look up at him and... receive a cheek full of Vessel knuckles. 

He moves quickly to cup your face, desperate to show you he didn’t mean to whack you, but he’s greeted with a surprised chuckle and your smile. Not that one you put on for friends or staged photos…your real smile. He could die happy right now. Just absolutely melt. If he ever wanted to write true, honest to god love ballads he would think back to this moment. This gooey, gushy feeling. He feels confident, the same confidence the mask gives him, and presses a soft kiss where he accidentally got you.

“Ves…” 

You still smile but he sees something behind your eyes. Vessel keeps his hands on your face…his heart breaking and stomach dropping. He had noticed you weren’t posting regularly on your socials and even then you seemed a bit less animated. He’s learned your tells. There’s smudges from yesterday’s eyeliner that somehow looks effortless but still betrays the fact that you didn’t wash your face last night. In his mind, Vessel likened you to a shrinking violet. The kindest, most gorgeous girl who ever graced him with her presence trying to hide herself away. This wouldn’t do. Even though he didn’t feel like he had the emotional energy for himself…he desperately wanted to be here for you. After the past four weeks of falling down a rabbit hole imagining you as a soft, caring, dominant partner, he suddenly felt needed. He wanted to provide so bad it hurt. 

“What’s the matter, love?”

“I…” your voice cracks and you shake your head. He backs off a bit, letting you have some space. “It’s been a rough few weeks. I’ve…missed you and felt like…a fucking idiot the whole time.”

Vessel nods and takes a drink of his water. “Yeah. Getting laid didn’t fix us, did it?”

You laugh ruefully and cross your arms. “It’s made me worse. How about you?”

“You first.”

You roll your eyes and stretch your neck. Vessel nearly loses his mind at how you bite your lip as you look him up and down. This is what he wants. To be under your gaze. Please. Keep him there. His breath catches. You could tell him to leave right now and he would. But instead, you keep talking. 

“To be completely honest with you, I didn’t think there was anything between us other than like…being friends. So I don’t know what came over me when I just…literally threw myself at you. I shouldn’t have done that. That’s…stupid reckless behavior.” You wring your hands a little and look down. “How can I expect to be taken seriously if I just—“

Vessel puts his hand up. “Stop that.”

“But I’m serious, Vess-“

“I said…’stop that.’ I take you seriously. I’ve always taken you seriously.” Vessel considers you for a moment. While he’d love to take you to bed, he’s desperate to lift you up. To reassure you. “Love, if you think you shouldn’t be taken seriously, imagine how I feel. You could have written me off as a jerk for letting you—“ but Vessel stops himself before he waxes poetic about your blowjob skills and ruins the moment. “I didn’t even follow you after we were done. Call you. Message you directly. After everything…I shouldn’t even have the chance to be with you.”

You shake your head and look down. “I know you’re not after one thing…I know it. But…why can’t I believe it? It’s nothing personal, I swear I just-“

Something deep within propels Vessel to pull you in for a gentle kiss…and to his utter delight you melt right into his touch. You fit so ridiculously perfect in his arms and mesh so well against his lips. He lets out a soft moan right as you break the kiss. Vessel had already been taken with you, but now he was enchanted. “Give me a month. I’ll show you how serious I am about you. It’s not just the sex…I promise.”

Your breath is ragged…you’re overcome with emotion and desire. You nod up at him. “All the time you need…”

“Good girl…” Vessel cocks his head, amused that he just called you that. He meant it in an encouraging way but…if the shoe fits. “Would you like that? To be my good girl?”

Your eyes get a bit dark, but not out of anything malicious. Your chin raises. “Ves…I would be anything you asked me to be. I don’t think you understand what you’ve done to me…” You pause but Vessel can’t even begin to formulate a thought. Were you as borderline obsessive as him? “You shouldn’t be on my mind the way you are. I mean…what are you doing to me? You’ve shown me so much kindness and your own vulnerability…that shouldn’t turn me on. It’s endearing and admirable, sure, but why do I…I just want to take care of you. I’m sorry I just…I feel guilty for…for falling for you because see me and you let me suck you off…I mean…how old are we?”

He’s taken aback a little. Something in your mind is tricking you. “Sweetheart,” he cups your cheek, “if it makes you feel any better, I feel the same. When I saw how down you looked a bit ago…” he shakes his head and sighs, “took everything in me to not start confessing everything just to see you smile. I want you. I want…everything that makes you ‘you.’ And I get the feeling you want the same…right?”

For a long second, you don’t say anything. You stare up at him, glassy eyed. He doesn’t need verbal confirmation. He’s passed that. He’s no longer timid about you. His lips meet yours in an agonizingly slow, tender kiss. Vessel’s hips press you against your kitchen counter, letting you feel his excitement. It wasn’t pure arousal. It was the excitement of being open and honest with each other. The emotional push and pull of comforting you but also receiving your reassurance did things to him. Oh fuck. Oh no. This was love, wasn’t it? Your hands pull at his hips, bringing one of his legs between yours. You moan softly, and he pulls from the kiss.

“Do you think about me at all?” He whispers breathlessly? You moan as his lips ghost your ear. The feeling of your thighs tightening around him makes his cock twitch. He wishes your thighs were around his hips…or even his face. You bite your lip and whine a little as your hips buck involuntarily.

“I think about fucking you on my couch everyday.”

Obviously the next stop is the couch. Vessel sits down and pulls you to straddle him. His kisses become more ravenous. Finally…the girl of his dreams is on him. He’d do anything for you right now, but he wants you a little vulnerable. You, of course, had been pining, too. What’s the harm in being pathetic together? He pulls off your shirt and nearly looses his mind when your soft flesh comes into view. Your precious tummy. Your squishy tits. Fuck. It was all his. “Get your pants off.”

You hop off his lap and do as your told. Vessel just watches and unzips his pants, adjusting them and his boxers to let his cock out. He bites his lip and strokes himself teasingly as he watches you pull off your leggings and panties. Drooling at the sight of your nude legs…the hint of your pussy. He beckons you forward seductively, a little taste of what’s to come once you’re in reach. 

“How wet are you, love?” He asks, letting his fingers dip between your legs. You moan softly as his fingers trail up and down your slit, enjoying the wetness he’s caused. “I don’t even need to help you, do I? Excitable girl. Aren’t you?” All this gets from you is a nod. You’re so gone. He leans back on the couch and pulls you toward him. He’s still completely dressed in his henley and jeans, but you don’t seem to mind. He positions you on his cock and lets you set the pace. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since you’ve been fucked, but he knows to be kind and let you adjust to his size. His eyes roll back and his head thumps against the couch. Something about how your body takes his cock makes his insides melt. You run your fingers through your hair and arch your back as you lower yourself completely on him. “Don’t move…don’t move, love.” He adjusts slightly to bring your chest to his mouth. His soft kisses and kitten licks pepper your breasts, causing your pussy to clench. It feels amazing. He’s being so gentle, but on the inside he wants to ravage you. Even after getting off everyday for a month thinking about you, you still excite Vessel into a frenzy. 

“Oh…oh Ves…” you gasp as he takes your nipple between his lips. You both moan as his cock twitches against your sensitive walls, but he keeps you still, cockwarming as he teases and makes out with your nipples. He shamelessly buries his face in your chest and moans, squeezing your ass to pull you close. Vessel can hardly believe it. You’re finally in his arms, his cock is stuffed inside you, and you want his love just as badly as he wants yours. He pulls his face away from your body to look up at you and whisper.

“You’re my girl now. You know that?” He puts his finger that had touched your pussy in his mouth and sucks, making sure you how see gone he is for you. “Gonna make you so happy…”

Vessel can hardly believe what’s coming out of his mouth, but pussy from someone who accepts you unconditionally will do that to you. He thought he was only built for fleeting infatuations and hooks up. But here he was…making promises he’d sooner die than break. After playfully torturing you with how his cock twitched inside you every time you kissed him or made a little sound, he starts to move your hips.  You look positively angelic on his lap completely naked taking his cock. His eyes roll back and he realizes that whatever half baked fantasy he had about fucking you didn’t prepare him for how good you felt. How warm and safe he’d feel under the weight of your body. It’s almost too much. Not that he’d cum yet. No. He just wants to say stupid things like “I love you;” and “we should move in together;” and “please call me a good boy.” That little submissive voice was still in him. He knew you were responding well to him taking control but he wanted that gentle control from you again. 

“Am…am I good for you?” He rasps out as you steadily grind against him.

“Mhm…so good…you…you like being good?”

Vessel’s eyes roll back and he nods pathetically. “Just for you.” 

You bury your face in the nape of his neck and suck little pink love marks up and down it. He moans with each one, clenching your body impossibly close. “I can’t move when you hold me like that…” you say backing up a little. You take his wrists gently and pin them against the back of the couch. He licks his lips and smiles dreamily. “Oh you’re pathetic, aren’t you?” Your fingers intertwine and he lets out a contented sigh.

“So pathetic…”

“You like being good but you like getting in trouble, too, huh?”

Vessel’s brain is mush. He knows you’re lightly degrading him and he fucking loves it but he has no concept of what’s happening other than “yippee perfect girl is being perfect.” He just nods and lets you fuck him for all he’s worth, cumming when you wrap your dainty hand around his neck. 

Later at what can only be described as a debrief at the pub, you share a large basket of fries. Vessel takes a deep breath as he attempts to act normal after having his mind blown and emotions pulled in all kinds of different directions. “This is good, yeah?”

“The fries?”

“For Christ’s sake…”

“Oh sorry, you mean…us…yeah. This is good. Really good. Are you scared?”

Vessel looks at the table and then at you. Honesty is his only option. “Terrified.”

“Same.”

He ponders for a moment and puts his hand palm up on the table. “Do it scared?”

You plop your hand down on his, “and together.”

“Now about this gig next week. I need to start your lectures on progressive metal-“

“Oh god.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Try, Try, Try 1

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics including adultery and trying to conceive. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: husband!Andy Barber, friend!Thor

masterlist - to be added

Summary: your husband puts high expectations on you but you don't think you'll ever be enough for him.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A single line. Negative. You cringe as you hold the plastic stick over the bin in disappointment. There’s a knock at the door. 

“Well,” Andy’s voice rumbles through. 

You drop the test into the garbage and exhale softly, “not this time.” 

You crank on the faucet and rinse off your hands. The door opens from the other side and Andy meets your eye in the mirror. You can see the same disappointment in him. He even looks angry. 

“You been taking your vitamins?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod to the pillow box, each day a separate compartment, filled with the multicolor tablets. “I’m off coffee finally. No drinking. I gave Lisa a bunch of wine.” 

Your husband sighs, “you were ovulating. You said so.” 

“Andy,” you shrug. “It just takes time.” 

“Three years,” he says. “Yeah, a long time.” 

You wince at his disapproval. You shut off the tap and dry your hands. “I know. I’m trying.” 

“We’re both trying,” he insists. “Even on the days I’m tired, from working, when all I wanna do is nothing, I try. All according to your calendar. Are you sure you’re doing it right?” 

“What?” You face him. “Yeah, it’s an app and the tests--” 

“I don’t know. Maybe you aren’t trying as hard as me. Or maybe you’re hiding something.” 

His accusation is like a slap in the face. You blink furiously and shake your head, “what are you saying?” 

“You went to the OBGYN last week. How do I know you didn’t get pills? Or an insert?” 

“Huh?” You grimace. You got your IUD out the month before the wedding; because he asked. It wasn’t fun or easy. “Why--” 

“Cold feet? I mean, you leave dishes in the sink, maybe you’re not ready for a kid.” 

Your lashes flutter as your eyes burn. You leave a glass or two in the sink but the place isn’t a sty. You heave and swallow down the hurt. He’s frustrated. That’s it. 

“I’m ready. I’ve been just as ready as you,” you croak. 

“Hm, well, maybe you should book another appointment. Get a referral and figure out what’s wrong with you.” 

“What’s wrong--” 

“There are options. In vitro. Surrogate,” he crosses his arms and leans on the door frame, “I’m not getting any younger. Neither are you.” 

You want to say that it could be him. That you’re not necessarily the problem but you can’t be entirely sure of that. You sniffle, “Andy, I want it just as bad. I understand that it’s hard but you don’t have to be mean.” 

“Cecilia and Mark started trying last year and she’s about to pop,” he retorts. “And Timothy, he’s older than I am and he’s got twins.” 

“Andy,” you plead. “You’re acting like this is some conspiracy.” 

He looks away as if to suggest that’s possible. You stagger with hurt. His mom always accused you of being a gold digger. Does he believe you? He’s the one who told you to quit your job and stay home. 

He clears his throat and his eyes flick over sharply, “almost forgot. Found a cooking course for you. Down at the Elmwood.” 

“A cooking... what?” 

“Mom suggested it. Said it could help with everything. Make it more manageable if you know what you’re doing.” He drops his hands to his hips. 

“But... you like my cooking.” 

“Honey, you cook out of cans and the freezer. It’s something but if we’re going to have a little one, you need to start making more organic meals. Processed foods are awful, especially if you’re going to be breastfeeding,” he girds. 

Your heart sinks even further. You just can’t do anything right. Not since he put that ring on your finger. You’ve let him down in so many ways. You can’t give him a baby, you can’t cook what he likes, and last night he said you were too dry. Not your fault when he doesn’t offer any foreplay. 

“It will be fun too,” he offers. “I’m sure you’ll make some friends. Maybe some who can give you good advice... moms.” 

You restrain the flinch and nod. “Sure, probably will be. I guess... learning new things is good.” 

“Sure it will be, honey,” he shoves away from the wall and comes closer. “Look, it’s not that bad, alright?” He brushes his hand over your hip and along your lower back. He turns you to face him, “we can try again. Before work?” 

He pulls you against him and you have to resist tearing away. You’re not mad. You’re hurt. Why can’t he ever tell you what you do right? 

“Sure,” you run your hands up his white tee shirt. 

“Mm, when’s the last time we were spontaneous?” He purrs as his attitude shifts entirely. “Come on, get on the counter. Just like old times.” 

Your cheeks sear at the memory. When you were his law clerk, it was so exciting. Your little rendezvous, the under the desk fun. Now it’s so much pressure. Now he really feels like your boss. 

He backs you up and you brace the counter. He helps you up and pushes between your knees. You gasp as he steps between them and pulls down the straps of your nightie. A shiver speckles goosebumps across your chest as he bends to bury his face. 

You clasp the back of his head as he fondles one tit in his hand and latches onto the other. He groans as he teethes at you and sucks as he pulls back, stretching your nipple until it pops free. He looks up at you and purrs. 

“You know, when you’re expecting, those are gonna be bigger,” he stands and you hide your disappointment. No foreplay. Again. “I can’t wait.” 

He spreads your knees and pulls you so your pelvis is curled. He pushes down the elastic of his boxers as he slides you closer to the edge. He grabs your shoulder, pushing you back against the mirror as he guides himself along your cunt. 

He growls as he pushes inside of you, rocking until he finds his way in. He grunts and snaps his hips as you whine. It scrapes dryly as you’re unprepared for his suddenness. You brace his forearm and grit down on the pain. 

“You’re dry again,” he snarls and thrusts. 

You rasp, “sorry, I’m trying.” 

You reach down to your clit and he swats your hand away. He snags your wrists and brings them above your head. He pins them to the mirror and rams in harder. You whimper and curl your legs around him. 

“Ah, Andy--” 

“Yeah, you like it, don’t you? Like how big I am?” He pounds into you without patient. “Want me to fill you up, don’t you?” 

You gulp and gasp around his raw intrusion. He squeezes your wrists until your fingers throb and you notice how he watches himself in the mirror, almost entirely unconcerned with your presence. You turn your head down and bite your lip as he uses you. You just need him to get off and then you can go cook him a breakfast he won’t he even like. 

[schlatt-love-bot]

I NEED more Schlatt smut😫 you write it so good. Ive seen hc's that Schlatt would call reader Momma or Ma, both in a sexual and non sexual way. Think we can do somthing with that?👀

Absolutely I think we can do something with that! Just thinking about Schlatt grumbling out “momma” in bed….PHEW! I apologize, anon, for how long this took me to get out there, I honestly wanted it perfect before posting…here goes nothing! 

IF YOU ARE A MINOR, DO NOT CONTINUE READING! NSFW CONTENT!

“Old black water, keep on shinin’..” You hummed to yourself, dancing around the kitchen as you cleaned. The holidays had just passed, and you needed to do a deep clean of your and your boyfriend, Schlatt’s, shared kitchen, as it had seen so much action in the past few days—hosting dinners, cookie baking, pie making..the list goes on. That, plus, you were tired of seeing your holiday decorations up, it was almost February and all they were to you was a solemn reminder that the holidays had come and gone, and now you had to wait a whole year to enjoy the warm, fuzzy feelings they brought you once more. Schlatt had asked you to wait for him, knowing you would climb up on countertops you definitely shouldn’t in order to get things off the tops of the cabinets, but you didn’t listen to him. You wanted to surprise him with a nice, clean kitchen when he was done work for the day, and so there you stood on one of the countertops, winding up string lights and taking down pine garlands off the top of the cabinets, singing along to Black Water at a quiet level, as to not disturb Schlatt at work.

Little did you know, Schlatt had stood in the doorway to the kitchen for a good 5 or so minutes now, just watching you. Watching as you stood on the countertop, completely entranced by the music you were playing, dancing in your little pajama shorts and sleep shirt. He knew he should be pissed off at you for both not listening to him when he asked you to wait for him, as well as for not listening to him when he specifically asked you not to go climbing on countertops, but he couldn’t help himself from standing and enjoying the show you were putting on. Every so often, you would scoot-shuffle yourself in a way that made your shorts peek just enough that he began to develop a taste for what was now on view for him. 

“I’d like to hear some funky Dixieland, pretty mama come and take me by the hand!” You sang ever so slightly louder, standing on your tiptoes to reach a very tucked-back deer ornament you needed to grab to properly dust the tops of the cabinets before hoping off. As you reached, your socks betrayed you, causing you to slip, losing your balance and falling off the counter, heading to the tile below. You braced yourself for the impact…that never came. 

“Alright, pretty momma, you gotta start watchin’ yourself…what did I tell ya earlier?” Your cheeks flushed as you opened your eyes, realizing that you were not on the ground, but in fact in Schlatt’s arms, as he called you “momma.” A chill went down your spine, as Schlatt raised an eyebrow at your flushed expression. 

“What’s wrong, toots? Cat got your tongue?” He teased, shaking his head at your flustered state before he gently lowered your feet to the ground, his hands finding their familiar place on your hips. 

“Nothin’, baby…my bad.” You managed to say, shaking your head as you tried to clear your mind once your feet were firmly planted on the ground below. He let out a laugh, rubbing his thumbs against your hips before retorting. 

“Nothin’, really? I can tell something’s brewin’ in that pretty little head of yours. Spill…”

“Nothing, really, baby…just like the new nickname is all.” You admitted, cheeks burning a brighter shade of pink as his eyebrow cockily peaked on his face. 

“Liked bein’ called, momma, huh? I think I can use it more often for ya if ya’d like…” He said, teasingly, as he pulled your body closer to his. “Can’t believe you…not listenin’ to me, wagging your little ass up there on the counters…specifically what I told you not to, huh?” 

“Someone had to get it done around here…you’ve been too busy working to help me take down all the Christmas decorations, y’know.” You groaned, taking a step back to put the ornament still in your hands into the box, turning to face him again. “Too busy working to help with other needs too.” 

He hummed, cocking his head slightly before looking you up and down. 

“What typa needs are we talkin’, baby?” 

“Oh, pretty boy…you know exactly what type of needs.” You purred, slowly stepping closer to wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you, so you’d be at the perfect spot to whisper in his ear. 

“I’ve been so needy for you, Jay…and you’ve been nowhere to be seen…doesn’t sound fun, does it?” Your warm breath on his ears sent a chill up and down his spine. Unable to speak, he shook his head, knowing exactly where you were going with all this. 

“Think it’s about time pretty boy gets punished, don’t you?” Your fingers lightly traced his jaw, before gently bringing his face to look at yours. 

“Yes, ma…” He said, his voice no louder than a whisper, as you smiled. 

“Good boy…now…take us to the bedroom, hmm?” Almost immediately, Schlatt stood tall, wrapping your legs swiftly around his waist, not wasting any time by practically sprinting to the bedroom while keeping your legs locked around him. You let out a giggle, clearly you weren’t the only one who was feeling a bit hungry and eager.

Once inside your bedroom, he instinctively plopped you down on the bed, hungrily connecting your lips, needing to feel your tongue against his with a groan. You laughed, slowly disconnecting his head from yours with a tug of his hair, looking at how swollen and desperate his lips looked from not even a full minute of making out. 

“Pretty boy…I think you’ve forgotten who’s in control tonight, huh?” His eyes widened, a blush spreading across his cheeks. 

“Sorry, (Y/N)…not used to all this…” You chuckled, ruffling his hair slightly before guiding him to sit down on the bed, hands slowly traveling down his chest to the hem of his shirt, playing with it in your fingertips slightly before returning your gaze to his hungry eyes. 

“It’s okay, baby..I know. Not used to seeing this side of me…but you’ve gotta pay for just how neglected you’ve left me lately..” You slowly began to peel his shirt off, admiring the body you loved oh so much before beginning to plant a trail of kisses against his collarbones. He hummed at the sensation, not used to being on the receiving end of all this affection…but he couldn’t deny that it definitely felt good. He brought his hands down to his pants, beginning to unbutton them as you grabbed them, forcing him to stop with a groan. 

“Nope…at my pace, baby. Not yours… keep your hands to yourself, and this will be a better experience for both of us.” You said, returning to his collarbones, leaving a trail of wet, sloppy kisses and a mixture of scattered hickeys, some in not so noticeable areas, others…were definitely going to be seen. He groaned watching you, knowing you were really going to drag this one out. You giggled against his skin, your hands trailing up and down his sides as your mouth left his collarbones, trailing down his chest, meeting the start of his happy trail. His breath hitched, as you lifted your face up, looking up at him. 

“What do you say, pretty boy?” 

“Fuck…please…” 

“Please, what, baby? Use your words…” 

“Fuck…momma please…need your mouth on my cock, like…now.” He said, the words sheepishly leaving his mouth…he wasn’t so used to being wrapped around your fingertips like this. You hummed against his skin, pressing a kiss to the top of his happy trail once more, looking back up at him. 

“Say it like you mean it, big guy. What do you want me to do?” He hissed, watching your mouth reconnect with the sensitive skin of his lower belly, nipping at it to leave a little mark of love for only he and you to remember later. 

“Momma, please…need you to suck me off, bad!” His head went back into the pillows, eliciting a giggle from you as you swiftly licked your tongue from the top of his happy trail down to where his jeans sat, already unbuttoned due to his prior impatience. He squirmed under your touch, a string of profanities leaving his lips. 

“Good boy…sounds like you really need me, hmm?” You purred, pulling his jeans down to see his member already rock hard, tucked in a way that the head of his member was practically sticking out of the leg hole of his boxers, glistening already with precum. 

“Mmm…looks like somebody was excited…just as needy as I am, aren’t you, pretty boy?” You said, making a quick lick at his tip before palming him through his boxers, earning yourself a throaty moan from the man lying under you. 

“Fuck, please…need you..” His voice weakly trailed off, his senses becoming easily overwhelmed by just how badly he needed to feel your warm mouth engulfing his length. You laughed at how much he was squirming under your light touch, nodding your head in understanding as you finally peeled his boxers off his body, his cock quick to spring up, slapping him in the tummy as he left a bit of his leaking precum there. You hummed, standing on the edge of the bed as you licked your lips, watching as his cock twitched, waiting for any sort of sensation to come from you. 

“Such a pretty sight…my pretty, handsome boy. Don’t get to see you like this under me that often, huh?” He groaned, picking his head up slightly to look at you. 

“Please…need to feel you…” You hummed, crossing your arms slightly as you gave him a knowing look. 

“Please, please, ma…need your pretty lips around my cock…” You smiled, hearing those words sent a chill up your own spine as you slowly went to action, leaning yourself above him, lightly breathing on his hardened member, watching it twitch under your breath as he groaned above you. 

“Such a fuckin’ tease…” he whispered, praying you hadn’t heard. You smirked, rubbing your finger against his red tip, looking up towards him. 

“What did you say, pretty boy?” His eyes widened, feeling as your fingers stopped rubbing and began just holding steady pressure against his throbbing member, causing him to groan. 

“Nothing…nothing, please..!” He squirmed, needing to feel more than the steady pressure you were teasing him with, causing you to giggle. You shook your head, applying more pressure down on his throbbing tip, causing him to hiss. 

“Don’t be a brat, pretty boy…won’t take care of you if you keep actin’ up…” You muttered, staring him in his half-hooded eyes, to see whether or not he understood what you were asking of him. 

“Sorry…sorry, momma…won’t do it again, promise.” He whispered, his eyes pleading for you to do something, anything to give him some pleasure. You hummed, satisfied by his begging, nodding your head as you brought your hand back down to his hardened member, slowly beginning to stroke him from the base of his cock all the way to his tip. He hissed at the touch, lightly bucking his hips up, causing you to laugh at his needy state. 

“Pretty boy…watch yourself…I’ll stop right now if you don’t stop fuckin’ my hand…” He groaned, rolling his eyes as his head went back to the pillows under him, needless to say, he wasn’t used to the dominance currently dripping from you. A blush began to spread from his ears to his cheeks, making you bite your lip, quickening your strokes. 

“Look at you…such a mess in my hand…only my mess, yeah? You look so hot when you’re this submissive, baby…” You hummed, your eyes hooding over with your own lust…you began to feel your own needs growing bigger and bigger. He moaned at the combination of the dirty words leaving your lips and your quickened movements, his mind going numb. You smiled down at him, by how much his cock was twitching in your hand, you could tell he was close. Swiftly, you took your hand off his member, leaving him unsatisfied. 

“What…? What the fuck!” He whined, picking his head up off the pillows slightly, looking straight at you. You giggled, slowly climbing back up his body, your face hovering a few inches above his, a smirk adorning your face.

“What, thought I’d let you cum that quickly, baby boy? You need a taste of your own medicine…how long do you think I’ve been waiting for this myself?” You whispered into his ear, nibbling at his earlobe when you were finished. He groaned, rolling his eyes at you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, ma….please..! I promise I’ll…I’ll do better…fulfill your needs…I…I..just..” He droned on, panting slightly as his mind couldn’t work hard enough to complete a single sentence. 

“You just, what?” 

“Fuck…need to cum, momma…please!” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips, deepening it slightly to taste him, gauge just how badly he needed you. He eagerly deepened the kiss with his tongue…giving you just a slight idea of how badly he needed you, your touch, your taste…you groaned into his mouth. Pulling away from him, you continued your trail of teasing kisses and nips all the way down his neck, across his collarbones, down his chest, back down to his happy trail, making eye contact with him once again. He groaned, knowing exactly what you were going to do, his cock twitching in anticipation. 

You licked from the bottom of his belly button down to the base of his cock, breathing heavily on it. He groaned at you once more, resisting his inner urge to lace his fingers in your hair and pull you down onto his cock. 

“Hmmm…I don’t know if you need me…what do you think, Jay?” 

“Fuck…I need your…your mouth on my cock..so bad, so bad ma…” He muttered out, eyes watching you full of a mix of anticipation and lust that drove you wild. You smiled, pleased with his answer.

“Good boy…now you’re gettin’ it.” You praised, quickly and swiftly taking his cock into your mouth, hearing his moans like music to your ears as you continued to take as much of his length in your mouth as you could. Slowly, you were reaching your choking point, causing you to wrap your hand around the rest of his length that wouldn’t fit. 

Keeping your eyes on him, you began to slowly bob your head up and down, using your tongue to add friction to the underside of his cock. He let out a low growl, instinctively bucking his hips up slightly.

“Fuck…s-sorry, momma…can’t help it. You…you feel so good..!” He grumbled, his eyes unable to open from the pleasure he was experiencing. You were enjoying just how much of a mess he was becoming underneath your touch, quickening your pace as you hummed against his hardened member. After bobbing for only a few moments, you felt him begin to twitch in your mouth…all the pent up frustration from your early ended handjob were shining through, he was close to release. You gave him a look, patting his thigh, a signal that whenever he was ready, he could cum. He damn near lost his mind at that moment, a string of profanities mixed with moans. 

“Fuck, momma! Gonna…gonna…!” He couldn’t get his last warning out before he began to paint the inside of your mouth and cheeks white with his seed, cursing out in a moan as he felt his release. Your cheeks were pleasantly full as you felt some of his seed slowly trickle down your throat, continuing your motions on his cock to make sure you got every last drop of his juices out from him. Overstimulated, he muttered nonsense to himself as his head dropped to his pillow one last time, panting hard at how intense his orgasm truly was. 

You popped your mouth off his cock with an audible “pop,” looking him in the eye as you swallowed every last drop of his seed in your cheeks. He smiled, eyes glazed over as he watched you join him on the pillows, still caught up in the high feeling he had gotten from his release. 

“Damn…maybe I need to call you ma more often…that was so fuckin’ hot, babe.” He panted, lazily looking over at you as you laid with a smirk on your face. 

“It was pretty damn hot, but…momma has some needs that need to be fulfilled, hmm?” 

With that sentence alone, his hunger was reignited in his eyes, as he sprung back to life, eager and more than willing to show his momma just how badly he appreciated her, and just how badly he needed to taste her, care for her.

[cthulhus-curse]

Guiding Light

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 2,128

Warnings: Milf!Stepmom!Wanda, Wanda’s Stepdaughter!Natasha, Neighbor!Reader (called Master), Strap-Ons, Cockwarming, Punishments, Dildos, Praise, Dacryphilia, Degradation, Exhibitionism, D/S Dynamics, Mommy Kink, Infidelity | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: When Wanda fails to discipline the pet, it’s up to you to show Natasha the importance of good behavior.

“Will you forgive her if she misbehaves?”

You chuckled at the absurdity of the question, shaking your head without daring to say a word as you believed it to be in jest. Upon turning around, realizing her expression was serious with eyes darting out the window, you frowned. “Of course not. She wanted to be mine and if she can’t handle the consequences of her actions, then maybe she doesn’t deserve to be owned.”

Wanda knew it was fair. She had enough training under your hand for years to understand the severity of misbehavior, but as she watched out the kitchen window into the backyard, seeing her stepdaughter getting rather close with one of her friend’s daughters, she couldn’t help but shudder. The punishments that their master gave out weren’t kind. If you were in a good mood then at the very least she’d be given the benefit of being looked at by you, but the pain which you could elicit over Natasha was tedious, one which even Wanda knew firsthand.

“She’s so small,” Wanda commented, shifting to the side as you joined her by the window. As the guests danced and socialized in her backyard, her husband, Natasha’s father, being one of the few who sat back playing cards, the two id you remained inside. She was to finish dishes for the dinner service, a trusty housewife who adored her place, while you were the kind neighbor who didn’t hesitate to offer help. “Basically a puppy, Y/N. It’s her first time doing something like this. I think she’s trying to make you jealous but I…”

“But?” You raised your eyebrows. A hand drifted down Wanda’s back, teasing her skin hidden behind the walk that was her sunflower dress, before landing on the swell of her ass. You cupped one of her cheeks, squeezing tight as her breath hitched. “Use your words, mommy.”

“She doesn’t know any better. Do you have to punish her?” Wanda questioned with pleading eyes that you adored seeing stricken with tears. She allowed you to grope her, to stand from behind while kneading her ass and your free hand forcefully grabbing one of her full breasts that stood perky for you. “Please, master. I promise I’ll teach her. She won’t ever do that again.”

The desperate way in which she desired to protect her stepdaughter made you chuckle. “Yeah? Oh you’re adorable, baby. Look at you trying to keep the puppy from being hurt. You have to remember that she’s a big girl, okay?” Your voice was soft as you blew it by Wanda’s ear, your front brushing against her back. “Someone needs to teach the mutt some manners. Tomorrow we’ll teach her. I know you’ll be my good girl Wanda, you always are. You’ll listen to what master says, right? You’ll help me break the pup?”

Drowning in your presence, hypnotized by the way you assaulted her body, Wanda nodded dumbly. “Yes, master. Anything for you.”

“There’s my good girl, such a pretty mommy for her puppy and master. Now come here,” you pulled her back, making Wanda giggle as she was dragged off. “You know master always wants to reward a well-behaved pet.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

After a little over a year of seeing Wanda, you had begun adding her stepdaughter to the mix. It was never planned, but after having caught her multiple times peeking through the door of the bedroom her stepmother and father shared, hand shoved down her messy panties, you were sure to do something about it. She had cutely threatened to tell her dad once as a means to be accepted under your embrace. Although it brought a chill down Wanda’s back, you simply laughed in Natasha’s face — the poor girl that shook her head and pouted before giving in, forcing herself on her knees to receive the same treatment as her stepmom.

Alexei was a beacon of the little community in Westview — a wonderful father, a great husband, and a man who unknowingly lost both his wife and daughter to the next door neighbor who only had to so much as move a finger for the women to drop to their knees.

Always one to keep your promises, you waited until he was out of town the following day. At first it had hurt to see him kiss Wanda goodbye before hugging his daughter and going on his merry way, but as time went on you found yourself amused by it. Many times Wanda came running to you, practically begging you to get his smell off of her, to kiss her until all she could remember was that she was owned by you, her face nuzzled against your chest as she ignored the wedding ring on her hand when you slipped inside her.

Wanda had hastily dragged Natasha out of the house and to yours. You had heard them on the previous night, the older woman anxiously reminding her stepdaughter, who carried feigned confidence, of the rules which she ignored and would receive a punishment for. As much as Wanda tried to warn her, the redhead wouldn’t listen.

“You need to do as master says,” Wanda reminded her stepdaughter, pulling her into your bedroom. She hesitated for a second, eyeing you with desire as you sat back by the edge of the bed, carefully stroking a bulbous blue dildo attached to your hips. It was meant for her, she knew that much – the pride that swelled in her chest knowing she had been good, that master was pleased with her behavior, made the woman shudder with joy. “On your knees, Natalia. Don’t speak unless spoken to and don’t you dare try to fight it, okay? I know you’re a good girl, baby. Show master that.”

“Yes, mommy,” came Natasha’s voice. The tone was shaky, her eyes never meeting your own as she tugged off her clothes, knowing already to settle on the floor hovering over a dildo with a suction cup supporting it in place. It was much bigger than what you previously gave her, but the young college student knew not to question it. “I’ll be good for you, master.” She stared at you intently. “I’m really sorry for misbehaving, but I promise it won’t happen again. ‘M a good puppy.”

“Fucking pathetic,” you shook your head at that. It amazed you to see how easily your two pets sprung into action, pulling off their clothes and throwing them on a pile, Natasha knowing to take her place as a mutt on her knees for you while Wanda stood waiting, beginning to jerk off your lube-coated cock. “You’re nothing but a stupid slut. Do you really think that you can whore yourself out like that? Someone needs to be reminded who she belongs to.”

“But master-”

“Natalia,” Wanda warned, giving her stepdaughter a snide look. “I’m sorry, master. My little one just doesn’t know any better.”

Opting to show mercy was not something you typically did. If anything you were sure to use every ounce of fury you had within you. During the early days of Wanda’s training it would end with her backside entirely sore, her skin carrying nasty bruises that she proudly took as a response for her misbehavior. Although you desperately wished to do the same to Natasha, the redhead’s adorable pleas for forgiveness tugged at your heartstrings.

Taking in Wanda’s body always fueled your pride for her. At times you wondered how her husband dared despise it, how he stared down at rolls across her stomach, stretch marks running down breasts and thighs, and saw disgust. She had told you all about it, how he didn’t dare so much as look at her without grimacing. Such a wondrous pet deserved all the love and affection, which is exactly what you’d forever offer her.

“It’s so big,” Wanda commented as she straddled your hips, your hands guiding her over your cock. There was always uncertainty within her. With slow moments she attempted to catch her breath, to remind herself this is where she belonged. She didn’t see herself with the beauty that resided in your eyes upon gawking at the woman. With her cunt rubbing against the tip of your dick, she licked her lips. “Can I have it, master?”

“Yes, mommy. Anything for my best girl,” you told her. Carefully you carried her heart with a tenderness only shown to those who behaved. Natasha cried out for you, slapping the floor with hands turned to fists as she rubbed herself against the dildo. “And I don’t want to see you move, little whore. You’ll be a good mutt and warm the little toy, alright? Or are you too dumb to understand what I’m saying?”

Natasha shook her head at that. While you took the time to ease into Wanda, your cock bulging against her cunt, your mindless animal bawled her eyes out. Each little tear carried great responsibility – always so much more than what she could carry. Plump lips flushed with embarrassment, a humiliation she held onto against her chest while slowly sinking down over the dildo.

A green eyed monster struck Natasha’s soul. As much as she adored and worshiped the ground her stepmother waltzed through, she held dismay against her. Seeing her being thrusted into by you forced every drop of bile to rise up her throat. She wished to be good, to be treated as though she was a princess only meant to please her master. Her brattiness always dissuaded her. With the push in the right direction perhaps she could someday find herself back in your good graces.

“Look at how pretty she looks,” you pointed out Natasha’s sobs as she sank on the dildo which stuffed her to the brim. She wasn’t allowed to move a muscle, to speak unless previously being given permission. The torturous wave of arousal which overtook her being, her cunt throbbing each second that passed, urged more tears to slap themselves down her face. “Hmm such a pretty puppy when she’s crying for me.”

You took your time exploring Natasha’s weaknesses via the attention you gave her stepmother. The stench of sex piled in the room, your fingers digging into Wanda’s waist as you pumped her pussy full of your cock. She knew how to take it, how to follow your movements as though you were one, how to moan loudly against your ear while begging you to keep going until she was spent – and if you wished to use her after that, she could never fault you for it.

Wanda’s compliance swelled your heart. She gripped your shoulders and nuzzled her face against the crook of your neck – a home of sorts she claimed. “Fuck me harder, please,” she begged. The sounds of her own moans alongside the wet noises her pussy made when harshly fucked fueled your desire to keep going.

Natasha found it impossible to tear her eyes away from Wanda’s cunt, watching in awe while warming the dildo, remaining frozen in place, as you stretched out deliciously velvety walls. For a moment the sight piqued her curiosity. Her mommy must taste delicious, she mused. Perhaps the two of them could practice together as a means to prepare themselves for master behind closed doors.

“You’re such a good girl, Wanda. Always taking master’s cock like a well behaved kitten.” You slapped a hand over her ass, causing the woman to squeal with a mix of surprise and desire. “You’ll always be my pretty kitty. Master’s proudest possession.”

The benefit of release was never given to Natasha no matter how much her insistent groans silently begged for it. You spent countless hours throwing Wanda over the bed with forcefully pried apart legs, taking away every ounce of sanity she had left and making it your own. She kept begging for more, pleas which you gleefully complied with.

By the end of the night the two were spent, Wanda slumped over the bed attempting to thank you for so much as touching her, but her voice only coming as an incoherent mumble. You felt pity for Natasha as she remained kneeling on the floor with a bulge on her stomach. Dragging her onto the bed beside her stepmother was a risky move, although she was sure to profusely apologize even as you drew an orgasm from her dripping pussy with your hand.

“I’ll be good,” she promised with heavy eyelids, juices running down her slick thighs that you slapped. “I want to be your best puppy.”

You hummed at her exhausted enthusiasm, your cock dripping with Wanda’s essence pressed against her lower back. “You better,” came your low whisper against her ear. “Or else I’ll make sure you behave. It won’t be hard to break a stupid whore like you.”